@Goomy wanted to see the process on how a forever foal is made in my headcanon. It’s not as detailed as it could be but I think this will give you a good idea
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The process of creating a Forever Foal is a somewhat long task requiring that exact parameters are followed. The end-result product is expensive, however you must know that it takes a trained professional to get it ‘just right’. Lets follow the journey of a Forever Foal getting ready for his forever home.
The chirpy was a little ball of yellow fur that peeped and cheeped uselessly. There’s not much to say about his life: All he knows is suckling warm milkies from a rubber nipple as a comforting song plays over and over. It’s not the mummah song that all of them seemed programmed to recognize. It was a recording that soothingly said:
‘Babbeh need mummah.’
It was repeated over and over again in different pitches and tones. The chirpy didn’t know much more than this, milkies, and the warm heating pad he uselessly shit on as days dragged by.
Eventually his eyes would open and the first sight had was not of a fluffy mummah but of a human woman. She had scooped him up and stroked a few fingers through the mane which was beginning to develop, a shocking neon blue.
“Mummah loves her baby. And baby needs his mummah.” A bottle was placed at the mouth of the foal who hungrily supped while staring up in wide-eyed fascination at the woman. Mummah. His mummah! He cooed against the bottle and fell asleep while being gently rocked.
This carried on for awhile. Eventually he would begin to walk about, and his teeth had quickly formed. Also, he had a name. Polo! His mummah began to spend more time with him and he’d been given a specialized collar. If he got too far away from his caretaker, an electric zap would send him back into place.
“Teehee…Powo wub expowin…” The foal said while trying to sneak out of the room one day. As soon as he got a few meters away from his mummah, the collar buzzed and gave him enough of a shock to force a squeal of pain and send tears streaming down his cheeks. “Bad munstah cowwa! Nu gud! Huuu…” As soon as Polo got close to her, the caretaker scooped him up and began coddling him. He really did need mummah.
Forever Foals are often fed a slop of soft wet food which is laced with pills. These pills prevent the growth of sexual functions and cause the genitalia to stay small. The fluffy does not realize it, and likely never will until introduced to regular specimens.
Diapers are an important part of the process. The natural inclination of fluffies is to stay clean, however when they are reduced to dependency on their caretaker to be clean it instills a great amount of power over the creature.
“Powo haechu, stinkeh dipey.” The foal was being rebellious, and who would blame him? Even without other fluffies around to tease him for it who would want to walk around covered in their own excrement? Rubbing up against a doorframe he’d snag the diaper off and proceed to shit on the floor. He should have known better though.
It is extremely important that the caretaker ‘mummah’ figure never be attributed to negative actions. The use of a ‘munstah man’ is ideal while a Forever Foal is in training. These are people dressed in all black stagehand clothing who do everything from give injections to mete out punishments. Mummah is a sense of security, the munstah man is everything but.
Polo was proudly playing with his blocks, stacking one on top of another over and over again. He didn’t have to wear dipeys anymore. Mummah couldn’t make him! The door opened.
There was the thing of his nightmares. Dressed in all black, face obscured. “N-nuuuu…munstah! Mummah!” He called out, though his mummah was nowhere in site. This was the munstah who gave him owwies, pinchies, tummy huwties. Polo tried to hide under a blanket, shit-covered ass plainly sticking out in the air.
The munstah man grabbed him by his tail and dragged him across the floor. Polo screamed and clicked his hooves against the floor. “Nuuu! Am omwy wittew babbeh! Nu munstah man!” He was brought to the shit pile, the man in black unceremoniously shoving the fluffy’s face into it. Coughing, hacking, the stupid creature was forced to eat all of it.
Eventually his mummah came back after the munstah had left. Polo ran to her, and she began to clean him up with sweet smelling wipes and teef-brushies. She cooed to him, the fluffy hugging up against her. This was a good feeling. He should listen to mummah always now. If he didn’t, bad things would happen. Bad things never ever happened with her.
So it would be that Polo lived his life. He was restricted from most content on FluffTV, anything involving mummahs or other grown-up fluffies in particular. The only content he was allowed to enjoy happened to be the stuff meant for only the dumbest little foals. Day by day any kind of bright spark (if you could attribute that to a fluffy) sapped away. He never wanted to go exploring. He never ever wanted to take his diaper off or disobey mummah. All he wanted to was be a babbeh, forever and ever.
