Your name is Hank. You raise fluffy ponies as a hobby.
Last night, Snowflake gave birth. You opened the saferoom door to hear them chirping while Snowflake babbles to them softly.
“Wook daddeh, Snowfwake hab suu many babbehs!” She is rotating one of …seven (!) foals to one of her teats. The others chirp nearby. All but one of the tiny babies has white fur. The last is a pale shade of brown, but it too has a milk-slick snout. Over near the litterbox, however, is a pale blue unicorn foal. It isn’t moving. Snowflake sees you looking at this foal and speaks up.
“Snowfwake am sorry daddeh. Dat babbeh nu move, nu make noises. Snowfwake twy an gib wikkies an miwk, but babbeh aweddy hab fwoweba-sweepies.” A tear rolls down her cheek. You stroke her fur softly, reassuring her.
“It’s ok Snowflake. Daddy knows you’re a good fluffy. Let me take this baby away.” You carefully lift the lifeless foal from the pen.
“Sowwy babbeh, mummah wub yu sooo mush.” Snowflake mewls softly, hugging as many of her remaining foals as she can fit in her tiny arms. You take the dead foal out of her sight and put it in the trash can. Its too bad, but really not surprising. WIth so many foals growing inside her, a stillborn or two was inevitable. At least the rest of her foals seem healthy. You busy yourself feeding the other fluffies and filling their water bottles. Neon greets you quietly, but Midas can’t control himself.
“Daddeh! Snowfwake hab babbehs! Midas heaw Snowfwake hab Midas’ babbehs. Pwese daddeh, Midas wan be gud daddeh, see pwetty babbehs.” He prances around fitfully and reaches for you. Since leaving the sorry box and meeting Neon and the new foals, Midas has behaved himself quite well. He plays with the others, shares what were formerly ‘his’ toys with Neon, and babbled incessantly about Snowflakes upcoming babies. Now, he seems to be the proud papa.
“Midas wan see babbehs?” Snowflake asks from her pen. You lift Midas up to see his babies, and he coos to them and hugs each of them gently.
“Snowfwake hab suu many gud babbehs. Midas wub Snowfwake an babbehs!” Well, this is certainly an improvement over a few weeks ago. Piglet is not impressed, though, and scowls at him from the other corner, still plumped up with tummy babies. She dislikes Midas, probably because he thinks her scarred fluffy isn’t pretty. You only bred them together once, and while the foals where very vibrant, Piglets attitude about it made you decide not to repeat the experiment. Her current foals were put in her by one of the stallions you sold off, a bright blue pegasus you named Charlie. You were worried when he acted up a few weeks ago, but now he has settled down and been a good boy. He and Neon sleep happily in a pile each night, and play vigorously together in the play pen. Midas has even warmed up to Grape, playing with the almost-stallion and giving him hugs. All in all, your little family is getting along handily.
“UGGGGHHH!” Piglet groans loudly. “Daddeh, babbehs COMMIN’!” You drop what you’re doing and hurry over to Piglet, hoisting her up carefully and setting her down on the workbench, wrapped carefully in a towel. Her exposed bottom is slick with fluid, and the pink pegasus begins to strain. After a moment, a foal plops out, followed by another shortly after. You scoop them up, clearing the goop from their tiny mouths, and place them for Piglet to lick clean. She carefully cleans them with her tongue and smiles as they begin to peep quietly.
“Mo babbehs commin, Daddeh!” She grimaces and another foal slides out. You repeat the cleaning procedure with this purple unicorn, and it joins its siblings in a pile. Piglet is breathing heavily, and there is one more spasm as she pushes. A tiny white foal slides out, clearly smaller than the others. Oh boy. Piglet licks it carefully, but stops. Here it comes, you think.
“Daddeh, dis baby nu move. Pwease hewp babbeh?” You grab a hand towel and pick the baby up. Its mouth is clear of mucus, but it clearly isn’t breathing. Taking it in the towel, you begin to rub it vigorously. After a bit of rubbing, you give it a spritz of cold water in the face with a spray bottle. There is no response, but you continue rubbing. You try a second spritz as the other foals begin to feed at Piglets teats. Finally, the tiny creature twitches and emits a tiny peep. Piglet strains her hoofs to grab it, and you hand the tiny foal to its mother.
“Hew, tiny babbeh, mummah wub you too. Dwink da miwkies, get aww big an stwong.” She coos to the tiny snowball, nestling it up against a teat where it begins to feed. The little fellow is clearly a runt, but Piglet is probably the most caring mare you’ve ever owned, so if anybody can nurse a runt to health, it is her. You lift her and her foals, wrapped carefully in a towel, back into her pen, where Snowflake congratulates her on her lovely new foals.
As you relax on your stool, you watch Grape play with Violet and Steel in the play pen. Less than a month ago, you had four fluffies. Four. Now you’re back with more than a dozen. It seems life is going to be busy again, much sooner than you expected.
—
You are Grape, a purple unicorn fluffy, and you are so happy! The mares in your herd have had so many pretty babies. You can’t play with them yet, but you vow to yourself that you will give them all the best hugs you can, and play with them when they are big enough. Meanwhile, you play with your other foal friends. Steel is a pale blue-gray pegasus, with a pretty purple mane which has filled in lately. His sister, Violet, also has a pretty purple mane, but her fur is pale purple in color. Violet is so pretty, and you like giving her hugs so much. Lately, when you give her hugs, you feel something. The warm, tingling sensation spreads from your lumps, up through your body, and it feels funny. Right now, you are wrestling with Steel, and you feel the sensation in your lumps. Suddenly, you notice your special thing is all big now. It feels good as it rubs against Steel’s soft fur, and your hips start to buck uncontrollably.
“Wuh Gwape doin?” Steel asks, unsure of your intentions.
“Enf. Enf. Enf” You ignore his questions as you continue humping his leg. Now he is trying to run away, but you are bigger than him and you don’t let go. Suddenly, there is an explosion of tingling pleasure inside you, like nothing you have ever felt before.
“Guuuud fewwwws!!” you groan, and slide off your friend, trailing a mess of sticky fluid. You lay on the floor, sticky and panting, while Steel complains about the mess you made on his pretty fur.
—
You are Hank, and you have just gotten Piglet and her new foals settled down. They are all so cute, even the tiny white runt, nestled carefully against Piglet’s tummy.
“Enf.Enf.Enf!”
The all too familiar cry of mating fluffies catches your ears, and you turn, expecting Midas has got up to something awful. But no, its Grape, busily humping away at Steel’s leg. God damnit, you think to yourself. The little guy has grown up so much in these last few weeks, and you are honestly surprised it hasn’t happened already. Steel is whining about the semen Grape has left on his haunches.
“Nuu huu huu! Why Gwape put sticky wawa on Steew?! Nu smeww pwetty!” The little gray foal sniffles.
“Es okay bwuddah, sissy gib huggies anyway, make bettah.” Violet goes and hugs her brother, smearing the spunk all over the both of them. Great, now you have to clean them both. Leaving Grape in the pen for the moment, you take the twins out to the washroom and scrub them off, ignoring their fear at the “scary water.” Once they are all dry, you place them in the pen and scoop up your little horndog, placing him on the workbench to have a chat.
“Daddeh, Gwape nu no wha happen! Gwape make sticky wawa from speciaw peace, feew gud.” He confides in you as you wipe the remaining dribbles from his equipment.
“Grape, you are a grown up fluffy now, and that means you are capable of having ‘Special Hugs.’ But you aren’t supposed to have special hugs with just anybody, and certainly not with Steel’s legs.” You fight to keep a straight face, but it is a losing battle.
“Sowwy daddeh, Gwape no nuu dat.” He looks crestfallen at having done something bad.
“Its okay little buddy. Pretty soon, you will have a special friend, and you can do special hugs with her. In the meantime, you can do special hugs with this,” you explain, reaching under the workbench and bringing out a stuffed mare toy. It is made of soft fluff (possibly from real fluffies) and it smells like a full-grown mare. There is an…opening…for the little guy to fit inside, and the whole thing is machine-washable.
“This is an enfie-toy. You can give it special hugs when your no-noes hurt, okay?” You really wish you were not having this conversation right now.
“Dis enfie toy smeww gud, wike mawe!” he chirps happily. Kinda the whole point, isn’t it? You really hope someone didn’t skin a mare to make this thing, but beggars can’t be choosers.
“Daddeh, when Viowet get big, can be speshuw fwend fo Gwape?” You knew this was coming.
“Well, in a few weeks when she is big enough, sure, you can be special friends.” You can’t believe you are having ‘the talk’ with a tiny pony, but it’s how things are. If the little humper ends up impregnating Violet now, she is likely to die in childbirth. So Grape gets the toy until she is big enough to satisfy those urges. You carry Grape and his new…friend…back to his cage.
Isn’t life wonderful?
