A funny story idea I had in mind after reading a community post. This’ll be first of a series about fluffies with weird family complexes and weirded out owners. Also, I’ll be making some references and shout-outs to other stories and authors, since some of them served as inspiration for some plot points.
Fred would say that he had a pretty decent and average life. Neither terribly awful nor particularly great, but something manageable and liveable. He did find it fitting, seeing as he was an average guy, after all.
There was, however, one thing that did stick out from his life’s average-ness. One brightly colored thing. One childish-speaking thing. One spaghetti obsessed thing.
Yes, a fluffy.
—
It had been a sort of spur-of-the-moment decision, getting a fluffy. His friend Georgie had suggested finding a new hobby, and then he suggested that said hobby should be fluffy breeding, and then and then he suggested getting one fluffy first just to get the ropes of caring for them.
After all, diving into it and getting or adopting multiple fluffies, let alone feral ones, while one was inexperienced just seemed to spell disaster. Sure, he had heard of some success stories.
There was that plucky old lady who happened upon a herd that decimated her garden, yet managed to get them to not only clean up the damage but also train them to help her with garden work. There was also that guy with the farm who started his fluffy breeding business from the feral herd that wandered onto his property and was able to bounce back, even after the tragedies that struck the farm. And there was even someone who adopted a feral single mother who had no indication whatsoever of having the infamous “hellgremlin” or “bitch mare” traits.
But these stories were the exception and not the rule. So to play it safe, Fred had gotten just one fluffy, one. He had even made it clear to the fluffmart employee that he was just starting out and that this fluffy would be a “practice fluffy ” of sorts.
Of course, when the fluffmart employee had raised an eyebrow at his wording, he had to backpedal and make it clear that by “practice,” he meant fluffy breeding practice. Ethical fluffy breeding practice.
The fluffmart store was, after all, careful to blacklist some concerning individuals who would damage the living “products” they sold. That, and the employees were careful to not just hand off the biotoys they had grown to genuinely care for to some lunatic who wanted to torture them for funsies.
And while the employee was still a bit skeptical, they directed him to get one of the females in stock.
According to them, she was in that phase in between having just grown out of foalhood and becoming a fully-mature mare. She was also, while still having the usual desires of a fluffy, agreeable for the most part so it would be relatively easy to reason with her.
So after picking her up from the tank, buying the needed essentials, giving her a name, and signing the needed paperwork for fluffy ownership, Fred was now officially the owner of “Jocasta,” a pegasus with a salmon-colored coat and copper-colored mane.
He didn’t know why, but that name just seemed to suit her.
—
Jocasta’s first week, which she was taught (but had to keep being reminded) was equal to seven bright-times, in her new daddeh’s house gave her lots of things to do and learn.
She had to learn to make poopies in the litterbox, since that would be good poopies and making poopies anywhere else would be bad poopies. When she asked daddeh why pooping wherever she wanted would be bad poopies, he said that it would make a not-pretty smell everywhere, and the not-pretty smell would give her the sickies. So she made sure to make good poopies in the litterbox.
She had to learn which rooms not to go in, since some of these rooms were “dangah-wus”, which meant she could get lots of hurties if she wandered in there. She couldn’t go in the “gawage”, which was where daddeh kept his metal munstah, because she might accidentally get big owwies from the metal munstah. She couldn’t go in the “keechen”, where daddeh made nummies, because she might fall into burny-water and get lots of owwies. She could stay in the “dining woom” though, and she could eat her nummies with daddeh in the very bright time and the darky time.
At first, it was hard to learn these things, Jocasta’s head would get lots of hurties trying to remember.
But daddeh was patient with her, even if sometimes she saw him push his face into the white huggy-thing and make lots of screes. He usually did that because she either forgot to make good poopies or nearly got turned into halfsies by his slicey stick in the “keechen.”
It took many forevers, but soon Jocasta would make good poopies in the litterbox without daddeh’s coaching, and she would stop herself from wandering into the “keechen” or “gawage” when she was all alone in the housie.
But perhaps the most important thing she learned was that if she wanted something, she had to ask daddeh for it first and listen to his answer.
It was sometimes good, sometimes bad.
Sometimes good because daddeh would say yes and she would get so many heart-happies and would even do a little dancy, which always made him smile. Of course, she’d remember to give daddeh lots of thanksies and huggies, that was something she easily remembered because of how happy it made him. And she loved making daddeh happy, because she loved daddeh because daddeh took care of her.
Sometimes bad because daddeh would say no, and she had to listen to him explain why she couldn’t have it. And sometimes (most of the time) listening to daddeh made her head hurties because he made lots of talkies. She also didn’t understand why he couldn’t just get the things that she wanted. Why did he have to get “moh-nee” before getting the things? Or why did he sometimes say no, but then say yes many forevers later? Couldn’t he have just given it to her now?
Daddeh was so nice though, and usually gave her what she wanted at the moment.
If Jocasta wanted a bit of his own bright time nummies, the crunchy ones he ate with milkies and from a bowl, then he’d chuckle and place some of it in her own bowl and she’d get to taste the nice nummies. If Jocasta wanted to watch teebee, he’d place her on the big soft chair and would turn it on so she could watch her favorite show of six magical fluffies and their purple and green scaly friend. If Jocasta wanted to play blockies, daddeh would get some for her and sometimes, he’d even help her make lots of things with them.
But there was one thing Jocasta wanted more than anything, and no, it wasn’t skettis (though that was a close second). She didn’t even know what she wanted until…the surprise.
—
When she first arrived in her new forever home, she didn’t think about it at first, she was still a little fluffy and not too long ago, was only a little babbeh.
But as she grew older, she noticed new things in both her body and her head, things that were much more noticeable after she spent maybe….thirty bright times (What was that called again? Munth?) with daddeh.
She was bigger now, first of all.
Before, Jocasta could be carried in just one of daddeh’s not-hooves, and he wouldn’t have any trouble. But now, it took both of daddeh’s not-hooves, and sometimes he’d even get tired carrying her around. She never really noticed that until daddeh pointed it out one day.
“Oof, you’re heavier now Jocasta! Either that, or daddy should work out more” daddeh had said that time while laughing a bit.
It only confused and worried her. This “wowk” thing daddeh did meant he’d be away, so she pleaded “Nu! Pwease nu wowk mowe daddeh! Joke-asta awwead wonewy fwom daddeh being at wowk! Joke-asta wiww stop getting hebee!”
Daddeh only laughed and reassured her saying it was a good thing she was getting big, it meant she was “hel-tee”, and being “hel-tee” was a good thing for fluffies and even not-fluffies. He had also said he meant a different “wowk” thing, one where he wouldn’t have to leave her alone in the house, and that calmed her down.
She also noticed that the two lumpy things near her belly were also starting to grow bigger.
When she asked daddeh about that, he seemed a bit awkward for some reason, pausing lots of times like he also didn’t know the answer at first.
“Those are…uh…your…milky places, Jocasta! No need to worry, since you’re a girl-fluffy, it means you’re growing into a mare! And all mares have milky places that will grow bigger while you also grow bigger!” was what he had said.
Which only confused her and made her ask “But why Joke-asta need miwky pwaces? Am not widdow babbeh anymo! Nu need miwk, Joke-asta can hab gwown-up nummies now! So why Joke-asta need miwky pwaces?”
Daddeh only sighed and pinched the spot in between the two lines of fluff on his thinky-places while he said “When you’re a little older, I’ll explain it to you Jocasta…”
And that was that, but the question was always somewhere on the back of her head.
Then she noticed even weirder things. Her no-no place, which was below her poopy place, would get a tingly feeling around other fluffies.
And not just that, she’d get it around boy fluffies.
Daddeh would bring her on walks sometimes, and he’d greet his “ney-bores” who also had their own fluffies. Many of daddeh’s “ney-bores” who walked their fluffies would walk their boy-fluffies.
Before, she could greet them just fine and even make huggies with them a bit before continuing to walk with daddeh. But now, whenever she saw them, her no-no place would get all tingly, especially when they made huggies.
Even daddeh seemed to notice that the way she was around her boy-fluffy friends changed a bit, especially on one of the days when they bumped into his friend Georgie. Georgie was a nice hoomin, like daddeh, who had a wingy-fluffy named Egg that he also took for walksies. Usually, she’d greet Egg whenever they bumped into each other, and then they’d have huggies and would continue walking.
But on that day, which was when daddeh also started to take notice, something was just…different with Egg.
Looking at him, with his pure white fluff and pretty purple eyes, he was a handsome stallion, no doubt. Even some hoomins would say so.
Jocasta herself didn’t think much of it before, until her nono-place would get all tingly when she looked at him.
When he gave her his usual huggies, she hugged him back, but this time, it was different. When they exchanged huggies, she could feel his nono-stick brush against her, which wasn’t a big deal before but now…she liked feeling it against her…she liked feeling it rub up against her fluff…she wanted to see if it would feel any better in her nono-place…
“Joke-asta fwiend, yu gibbing Egg too much huggies! Egg and daddeh stiww need wawksies!”
Her friend had snapped her out of that trance, and she felt ashamed over it, saying “Oh, am sowwy Egg fwiend…Joke-asta jus…just weawwy weawwy wik huggies.”
Daddeh had looked worried then, and it looked like Georgie was worried too, making quiet talksies into daddeh’s hear-places. She didn’t know why they needed to make really quiet talksies, it made her scared. Did she do anything to upset daddeh?
It was something she kept wondering about for the rest of the day…
—
”Dude, you’ve had Jocasta for like what…a month now? She would be getting into her adult stage by now, if I’m doing the math right, and with how she’s looking at Egg, I have a feeling I am. Do you want her to be your first breeding dam or not? You gotta make the choice, dude, and make it now.”
Georgie’s words had glued themselves to Fred’s brain, especially when he saw for himself the way Jocasta was acting with Egg. The “now” part, in particular, was echoing in his head, as if it was literally bouncing and reverberating off of his skull.
Fuck! He wasn’t ready yet! He wasn’t sure if Jocasta was ready yet!
He had just started getting used to his new routine with her, and that had taken quite some time. What would the inclusion of a foal or rather, knowing fluffy reproduction rates, foals mean?
He hadn’t had his pay day yet, and he doubt he could afford all the expenses and care a pregnant mare would need, much less for a litter.
Not only that, but he wasn’t sure how he would go about Jocasta going through the fluffy equivalent of puberty in a way that wouldn’t lead to lots of hurt for them both.
Because dammit, Jocasta wasn’t just his fluffy, she was his daughter (no matter how many times his overbearing mother would insist that it didn’t count).
He couldn’t bear to think of what would happen when she would eventually ask for babies and he’d have to say no. He couldn’t even fault her for it. It was Hasbio’s damn genetic programming that was riddled with more bugs than Cum-Chalice-Dev’s spaghetti code (okay, he should probably spend less free time watching video essays).
There was the option of getting her spayed, but by the looks of it, Jocasta was now at that stage where there would be risk of her getting depressed from it. That, and a part of him did consider it would be good business to have Jocasta as a breeding dam, her coat did have a sheen to it that was apparently high valued among collectors.
But then…would she be ready to be a mother?
Looking over to his phone’s baby monitor app, a safety measure so he could check on Jocasta even at work, he watched her humming to herself as she was stacking blocks.
She looked so innocent and so sweet, and no doubt, was naive to how raising babies would be difficult not just for him but also for her.
He had read lots of stories of unprepared fluffy mamas on various forums, fluffy mamas who were woefully unequipped for motherhood.
The best case scenario? Jocasta would get bitch mare syndrome and treat her foals unfairly. But the worst case scenario? Jocasta and all her babies dying horribly and he wouldn’t be able to see it coming.
There had been one story that stuck out to him in particular, one from a registered fluffy vet named Dr. Hopkins. Dr. Hopkins had identified that the feral foals one of his regulars had taken in were sired by said regular’s old fluffy who had ran away to get knocked up. The runaway would only end up becoming a terrible mother.
Those poor foals had been traumatized and while they were doing a lot better now as full-grown fluffies (he had even heard that one of them had become a special-friend to a high-grade purple fluffy), their happy ending was only one drop in a sea of tragedy-stricken stories.
What could he do to make sure Jocasta’s life wouldn’t be one of those tragic stories?
Dammit, the stress of it all made him feel like gouging his eyes out. ButFred couldn’t think of any other solution and so, sighing, he resolved to look to the forums once again.
Maybe even continuing to read this Dr. Hopkins’ post would help, he did mention in his post that this regular had gotten another fluffy after his first had ran away. According to the post, this one was more well-behaved and had all the makings of a good mother.
Even moreso when she adopted and helped raised the feral foals her owner’s runaway had sired.
Wait a minute…
That’s it! It was the perfect compromise!
—
After the weird thing that happened with Egg, Jocasta noticed that daddeh was spending more time at “wowk.”
At first, she was worried that she did something bad and daddeh was upset with her and that was why he spent more time out and less time with her. So on one darky-time, she stayed up and waited for him and when he got home, she began immediately apologizing and giving his leg huggies.
“Joke-asta su sowwy daddeh! Nu nyu what Joke-asta du tu make daddeh be at wowk wongew but am su sowwy!” she had said while hugging his leg, looking up at him teary-eyed.
Daddeh only smiled and gave her huggies too, saying he wasn’t mad, that he just needed to “wowk” a bit longer. He even said something that gave her lots of heart happies.
“Daddy’s just working longer because he’s preparing a surprise for you! So just be a bit patient, Jocasta, and then I can spend more time with you and won’t be out super long”
Surprise!?
That usually meant skettis or new toysies!
So, mood lifted quite a lot, Jocasta promised her daddeh she’d be “pay-shent” and would wait for the surprise. Just saying “suwpwise” was too much, her fluff could barely contain her excitement. She couldn’t even think of asking why that meant he had to stay out longer, she was just that excited and happy!
Jocasta waited many forevers (actually a week) for the surprise, and she made sure to be an extra good fluffy while waiting.
She wouldn’t demand for things unless daddeh asked her if she wanted them. Right after eating nummies, she would go to her litterbox and would stay there until she made sure all her poopies were out. And of course, she didn’t even step a hoof into the “dangah-wus” rooms.
Then the surprise came, though it came when she least expected it.
It had been a darky time, so she was asleep and having good sleepy-pictures.
Her sleepy-pictures lately had been of her playing and singing to babbehs, she didn’t know why, but she liked those sleepy pictures.
But on that darky time, daddeh gently woke her up, his not-hoof rubbing her back as he said “Jocasta, wake up, daddy has the surprise now.”
“Suwpwise?” she had asked sleepily.
Of course, no amount of excitement could really get the sleepies out of her see-places, so Jocasta took some time really waking up. She yawned, rubbed her see-places with her hoof, then carefully went out of her basket-bed. Since she still wanted to be an extra-good fluffy, she made sure to not jump out of her basket-bed since it would make daddeh worry and instead, simply walked out of it.
Daddeh was smiling and sitting on the floor of her safe room, and he had a little box in his not-hooves.
“Now, Jocasta, I want you to be really careful and gentle, okay?” he had said, which confused her a bit, until he slowly removed the top of the box. When he said she could look inside, she did.
What she saw was definitely a surprise.
Inside the box was a babbeh who was sound asleep.
The babbeh was a bright red color, and was just the sweetest thing she saw. And it had wingies just like her!
When the foal woke up, it moved a bit and looked up at her, blinking its see-places.
“Nice hoomin? Am in safe pwace now?” the foal asked softly. Daddeh nodded and gently petted the foal with one of his thin not-hooves (fingies are what he called them), saying “Yes, we’re here now…and there’s someone I want you to meet, and well…you’re looking at her now” and chuckling a bit.
Then slowly, veeery slowly, daddeh would scoop the foal up into his not-hoof and place it in front of her.
Oh. It was adorable.
“Jocasta I want you to meet your new friend, he’ll be staying with us from now on. He’s still little, so you have to help me take care of him. Look after him when I’m at work, okay?” Daddeh said.
All that Jocasta could do was nod and say “Hewwo talky babbeh, am Joke-asta!”
To which the colt replied, “H-hewwo…am…Eddy”
—
Fred watched the exchange between the fluffies, and gave himself a mental pat on the back. Already, it was going well.
Maybe it was too early to tell, maybe he was being overtly optimistic, but Fred had a good feeling about this.
It looked like Jocasta would love Eddy