May Kathrine, a 35 year old school teacher, watched as her fluffy Snowball gave birth. She had purchased Snowball as a part of her school plan, from newborn to adolescents the fluffy had been groomed and prepared for her litters and their purpose. During the month of November, Snowball would be bred with a random stallion, and she would give birth along the last few days of winter break; Snowball would then be milked daily and her foals would be placed inside off brand Foal-In-Can containers. She rubs the nape of her fluffy, watching indifferently as Snowball whines and squirms, pushing each body through her birth canal.
“You’re doing very well,” She mumbles, checking through the bodies as they wriggle and chirp, five of them lay against the spotted maternity blanket. Snowball cries into her hooves as the placenta slides out, the health teacher reaching with a gloved hand to gently place it inside the fluffys food bowl.
“Nu! Nu Mummah, Snowbaww nu wan’ to num icky aftah babbeh nummies!” Whines the slowly deflating mare, not even really worried about the chirping babies, maternal instincts snuffed out after her first litter. Mrs. Kathrine rolled her eyes and got up, taking the foals with her.
“We’ve discussed this Snowball, eat at least half. If you do so without whining, I’ll give you a star,” She says, balancing the peeping wicker basket on her hip. “You’re only two good days away from some spaghetti,”
Snowball looks up at her with soft sniffles, before sighing and starting to eat the leftover
organ. The fluffy watched sadly as Mummah took away her babies once again, too timid to do much but what she said. “Huu huu huu, Snowbaww wan’ howd wittwe babbehs…” She mumbles, taking another bite of placenta, wincing at the taste. “Snowbaww hab heawt huwties,”
Mrs. Kathrine sets the foals aside as she prepares the box of containers, tweezers already nearby to aid in each placement. She hums quietly, making sure each newborn is healthy and has the same probability to succeed, no runts this time. Very very good, her students will be able to enjoy the joy of responsibility. Mrs. Kathrine taught highschool seniors, people who were only a year or two away from adulthood, and each year in her health class she would pair her students and give them each a fluffy. What had once been eggs, bags of flour or sugar, was now Biotoys that could tell of the way they were raised.
The project would last two months, the only way to get a passing grade would be to raise a foal to adulthood, and an A meant making sure the fluffy was reasonably intelligent. After the notes and fluffy was graded, the students could either keep or give away their projects, and Mrs. Kathrine would dispose of those given up by herself. So far only two, out of twenty foals, had been kept by her student; the rest had either never arrived to be graded or were culled by the health teacher.
Two unicorns, two earth ponies, and a single pegasus; a wonderful litter of healthy foals. Someone who got by solely on breeding Biotoys, would probably be happy with their soft calming colors and the two with interesting patterns; thankfully even the dull looking blue colt would get a chance at a loving home. Only ten of her students had gotten the signed permission sheet, so luckily Mrs. Kathrine wouldn’t have to provide any less certified foals, one for each pair.
She sets each foal carefully into a container, filled with fatty and nutritional mothers milk, and gently attaches the small metal tubes to their spec sized anus and urethra. She hums a bit louder when they peep in pain, distressed with the add ons, and gently squishes the milk latch in order to help them self soothe. Into the warm basket they return, and the wicker basket is placed atop the coffee table near the door. The woman walks back to the closet sized safe room and praises Snowball for eating the majority.
Mrs. Kathrine scoops up her fluffy, rubbing a careful hand into the mare’s rabbit-like belly fur. She feels along the mares breasts, making sure there was no mass or cyst formation.
“Mummah pwease nu touch miwkie pwace, miwkie pwace am sowe,” Snowball mumbles, cooing as she otherwise pet and held, giggling some when the woman tickles her belly instead.
“Just making sure you’re healthy Snowball, we wouldn’t want you to have to go bye bye, would we?” Mrs. Kathrine kisses the mare’s forehead, avoiding her slight point and ignoring how that makes her teaching toy tremble in fear. The mare whimpers and lets out soft fussy sounds, trying to hide in her shoulder, which the teacher allows. Soon, Snowball is set back down and Mrs. Katherine goes to refill her water, food, and painting stand.
Come night time the mare is curled in her bed, wrapped tight around a rather rotund rabbit plush, crying into the stuffie as she just slightly hears her foals chirping in their plastic prisons. She can’t save them, or else she would have to go bye-bye, just like her special friends did… Snowball sniffles into her stuffie, and for a moment has a single thought.
She wants to die.
.
.
Hello, I give to you another short series! This will follow Mrs. Kathrine’s senior health class and the foals fate with their respective handlers. If there’s any tags you’d like me to add, please just let me know, this story should have 5 chapters (not including this prologue) as well as an epilogue. I’ve designed the foals and will post them with each chapter, here they are all together, as well as a color pallet and gender
