Fluffy Alicorn Breeder, Part 1

Fluffy Breeder, Part 1

>Be a Registered Fluffy Breeder. Cost quite a bit to get set up, but as ‘home business’ goes, it’s quite the money-maker.
>Ordered high-quality gene-stock from the labs that churned out the little fuzz-buckets, got yourself some primo stock.
>Alicorns. Awwww yeah. Four Males, Sixteen Females. Foals sell for $50 a pop, $120 if the customers want them pre-trained.
>Smarter, more durable, slightly more intelligent. Alicorns are a niche market, but their popularity keeps growing, even as Fluffy Ponies keep getting abandoned.
>One snag, normal Fluffies hate Alicorns with a ferocity that’s almost unnatural. Whether it’s because the Alicorns are larger and have both horns and wings, or it’s an instinctive reaction to ‘competition’, a Fluffy will try its damndest to murder an Alicorn first chance they get.
>No Feral Alicorns because most of them get slaughtered by the enraged Ferals within a few days of their ‘escape’.
>It’s Mating Day. One group of Mares are ready to be impregnated again. Due to Alicorn’s being highly complex creatures, pregnancy takes almost a month, and the Foals another month to be weaned off milk and be readied for sale.
>Keep yourself from getting attached to the Mares, never named them, don’t pet them anymore than you absolutely have to. They named themselves, however .... troublesome.

>The Mares are heart-broken when their Foals get taken away, even as you promise them they are going to homes where they will play and sleep and be loved.
>Learned the hard way it’s best to give them Hugs yourself, so they don’t associate you with their heart-ache. Fluffies, even Alicorns, who associate Humans with threats to their Foals can sometimes start to smother their babies rather than lose them to a ‘predator’.
>Have to reset their memories every time. Thus the Mares are kept in separate groups of 4, constantly getting pregnant, raising their Foals and then losing them, never knowing of the other groups of Mares. Thus, when they get the Zap and can be ‘programmed’ to forget their Foals, there’s no loud-mouth to remind them of it afterwards.
>Stallions you named, about as close as you allow yourself to get to the ‘stock’. Black, White, Golden and Scarlet.
>Okay, you suck at names, but the Fluffies understand.
>Mares are lying in their padded enclosure, babbling happily.
>They love Special Hugs. Alicorn Stallions are hung like rogue Bull Elephants.
>No you did not request this. It’s a genetic quirk.
>Had one large, German woman request a male foal. Insisted you not geld it.
>Worried about the competition, but since no other breeders have shown up, likely the little thing died.
>Vaguely remember seeing that woman somewhere on the web ....
>When one of the Mares, a pale powdered-blue colour, wanders past, you pick her up gently and tickle her hooves. She makes a surprised Yeep! sound when you pick her up, then giggles adorably when her hooves are tickled.
>No, no, no! No attachment to the ‘Stock’. God Dammit!
>”It’s Special Hugs time!” You say loudly, and the remaining Mares all start giggling and laughing and running around.
>”Me next, me next!” They cheer.
>Mare snuggles you as you walk over to the Breeding Pen.
>Blue Mare ... you’re going to breed her with Scarlet this time.
>Purple Alicorns, hopefully, although you’ve got equal chances of Red or Blue.
>’Princess Twilight’ Alicorns would sell like hotcakes.
>Breeding Pen is roomy, spacious and has several low, padded benches where the Alicorn Mare can lay across so the Alicorn Stud doesn’t have to put his weight entirely on her back and hips.
>Scarlet is running around, chasing a small soft-plastic ball.
>Introduce Powdered-Blue to Scarlet. They rush up to each other, nuzzle one another, then chase the ball.
>Let them play for a little while, get used to each other, then the magic happens.
>Also ....
>DING!
>Ah, the special ingredient.
>Walk away to get their ‘Special Hugs Day Lunch’.
>Spinach-filled Pasta-pillows, covered in white mushroom sauce.
>And liberally dosed with enough Bremelanotide to make a convent of Nuns randy.
>Walk back over, Powdered-Blue and Scarlet are rolling the ball to each other, talking loudly.
>”I wike pwayin’ wit’ yuu.” Scarlet says, pushing the ball back to the Mare with a big, happy, stupid grin on his face. “Yuu nice, yuu pwetty, wike yuu.”
>Regular damn Fluffy Cassanova, this one!
>”I wike yuu too! Yuu nice to Swap’phire! Wan pway aww day wit yuu!”
>Put the plate of aphrodisiac-loaded pasta down and tap the plate with your finger-nail.
>Fluffies look up, see the steaming pasta and rush over, leaving the ball behind.
>”Oh, oh! Wook, Swap’phire! Nummies! Sketties!” Scarlet cheers, jumping up and down at the side of the plate. “Sketties for Swap’phire an’ Scawet!”
>Much hugging. Then they start to scoff down the pasta.
>Scarlet, being a Stallion, has had more contact with you than the mare. A lot more training.
>Mare gets most of the Pasta, as per the training. He even offers her some of the little pasta-parcels, holding it for her in his mouth as she nibbles at the edges, then takes it away.
>Yes, you are a hopeless romantic.
>Also loved that scene from the Lady and the Tramp, but Fluffies and long pieces of spaghetti end in hilarity and ruin the mood.
>Well, at least you think so.
>Have a sinking suspicion that Golden might be into BDSM, he kept on ‘tying up’ the Mares with spaghetti then jumping them.
>Golden has all the patience of a randy sixteen year old with a fistful of money in a bordello. Still, he’s energetic enough that he’ll mate several times in one go, and you’ve yet to get a ‘dud’ mating from him.
>Eventually, the pasta is all devoured, Fluffies are licking the plate clean, standing right next to each other.
>Their little wings are sticking straight out, and every time their wing-tips touch, the two Alicorns giggle and shuffle apart slightly, before slowly drifting back together.
>Get to it, already!
>Finally, they’ve had enough, and wander away to play with the ball again, leaning on each other and whispering what probably amounts to sweet nothings amongst Fluffy Ponies.
>Pick up the plate and take it away to be washed later. Not that they left much more than a few scraps of sauce....
>Time to go introduce the other ‘happy couples’ to each other.
>Should take about 15 minutes for the powdered Bremelanotide to kick in anyways.


>Golden’s going at it like he’s getting paid, eyes rolling, tongue hanging out the side of his mouth, the Teal-coloured Mare under him clutching the sheet over her bench between her teeth and grunting loudly.
>............
>Lean down and check.
>Yes, right hole this time.
>He never seems to get that distinction.
>In the next Breeding Chamber, Black is working his magic.
>He can’t seem to ‘do the deed’ without Barry White crooning in the background.
>How that happened, you have no fucking idea.
>Whatever, it’s hilarious. He can damn near sing the entire ‘Greatest Hits’ album himself, so you just play the instrumental versions and let him sing himself into the mood.
>Mares throw themselves at him in a frenzy. Should have named him Swagger instead.
>”... Can’ get enuff o’ yuu wuv, baybeh ...” He croons to the starry-eyed Grey Mare lying on her side in front of him, her wings fluttering wildly.
>Yeah, that’s gonna take some more time. Time to check on the other two.
>White’s cuddling his mare, working himself into position, but the Emerald-Green Mare seems a little upset for some reason.
>”Scawed, no wike dis way.” She whines, skittering away from White. “Bawk huwts, no wike.”
>............what?
>Oh, right, this one.
>Tried to jump out of your arms, landed badly, ruptured some disks in her spine.
>Huh. Shit. Don’t want to put her down, but if she can’t breed....
>”White haf pwan!” The Stallion says eagerly, rushing over to the Mare and whispering in her ear, and she slowly starts to nod.
>............
>Okay, you’ll play along. Hell, what can they possibly ...
>White lies down, then rolls onto his back, pushing his legs out to the side.
>......Wut?
>Mare climbs on top ....
>Yehaaaw, cowboy!
>Okay, that was mildly disturbing. Didn’t know Alicorns could do that comfortably.
>Pegasus Fluffy Ponies throw an absolute fit if they are left on their backs for a long time. Doesn’t hurt them, they just don’t like their wings being pressed into the ground.
>Finally ... yup, Scarlet and Powdered-Blue are just finishing.
>”Eenf! Eenf! Eenf! I wuv-eenf-yuu, I wuv yuu!”
>”Wah! Wah-wah! Waaaaaaaaaaah!”
>Clean up in Aisle 1 .....
>Fluffy Alicorns fall over, still locked into position, panting heavily.
>Huh ... well, everything seems to be going fine here.
>Leave them for the next two or three hours to go at it some more and ensure every Mare gets pregnant.
>Now comes the part of the job you hate.
>Training the Foals.

>Next Shed. Like the others, it’s relatively small, about 10 meters long and 5 meters wide, divided into a Play Room, with plenty of nests for the Mares to keep their distance if they want and the ‘Teaching Grounds’ where you train the Foals to be house-trained and polite.
>When you go to breed the mares after selling off their foals, the Teaching Grounds gets turned into Breeding Chambers thanks to some handy snap-together dividing walls.
>The whole thing is sound-proofed and kept at a steady temperature all year long. Again, have to keep the Mares from knowing about each other to ensure the Foals don’t stop coming and the Mares don’t get stressed enough that they miscarry.
>Mares are cuddling their Foals. Just two weeks old, old enough for the more complex Alicorn brains to have finally matured enough for the training to stick.
>Mares cheer and wave at you. They know you as the Nice Man who Teach Foals. You’re grateful they don’t remember you as the Man Who Breaks Fluffy Hearts.
>Everyone gets some food before you start. Helps to bring the Fluffies into a more conductive state of mind if their bellies are full, you’ve found.
>Mares get some fresh sweet potato mash, which they absolutely adore. It’s a treat for being such good Mares and not hiding the Foals from you.
>Foals are encouraged to nurse in the meanwhile. A few of the older ones actually recognise you and wave a hoof at you.
>Most just giggle and run up to their mothers and suckle happily.
>Grab the necessary tools for the lesson. Shouldn’t take too long, the Alicorns are generally good at getting the hint after only a few days.
>Litter tray, plastic ‘Fluffy’, container of brown ‘goop’ from a novelty store.
>Fill the plastic ‘Fluffy’ with the ‘goop’, hide it behind your back and walk over to the Teaching Grounds.
>Eventually, Mares have finished eating and the Foals are done nursing. Mares herd their Foals over to the cold tiles, babbling about “Baybehs learn guud tings! Baybehs nu make not-pretties in beds nu moar!”
>Mares are Cream, Pale-Pink, Burnt-Orange and Dark-Red.
>Foals tend to have coats that are mostly similar to their mothers, although you can see a few white, black and gold coats amongst the crowd.
>Sit down next to the Litter Tray, so you’re closer to eye-level with the Fluffy Alicorns and can keep them focused, without them having to look at both your face up in the air and the Litter Tray down on the ground.
>”Fluffies are Good Fluffies. I am very proud.” You start off with, giving them all a big, happy smile.
>Fluffy Alicorns all cheer and give each other hugs.
>Makes your heart twinge, to know they’ll be broken up into ones and twos in two weeks time, but for now, they can be happy together as one big pastel-coloured family.
>”Fluffies will learn to use POOPIE BOX.” You say again, louder, tapping the litter tray with your hand. “Good Fluffies use the POOPIE BOX so they don’t leave not-pretties all over the floor.”
>”Baybehs wuse Poopie Box, no make beds wet.” A Mare whispered, poking a Foal with her horn, who makes an unhappy face.
>Ah, and that must be the bed-wetter.
>”Plastic Friend will show you how.” You say, revealing the Plastic Fluffy and ‘walking’ it over to the Litter Tray, then making it ‘walk’ around the tray before squeezing it and making the brown goop come out. “See? Plastic Friend has made not-pretties in the POOPIE BOX, and is a Very Good Fluffy.”
>’Pat’ the Plastic Fluffy and place it back behind you.
>”Does anyone else need to make a not-pretty?” You ask.
>”Mumma does!” The Dark Red Mare pipes up, wending her way through the Fluffy Alicorn Foals. “Mumma be Vewy Guud Fwuffy, use Poopie Box!”
>Takes her a few moments to get past the Foals, who keep trying to hug her or play with her, but eventually she scrambles into the Litter Tray, squats in a corner and strains.
>Oh God, your eyes!
>Some things Man is just not meant to see.
>Applaud regardless.
>”See, Good Fluffy uses the POOPIE BOX.” You say, patting the Mare on the back.
>Her eyes light up, and she shuffles over and hugs your side.
>”Wuv yuu!” She cheers, bouncing up and down.
>Other Mares puff out their cheeks, eyes narrow, wings twitch.
>Foals cheer and charge, asking for Hugs. Tsunami of little Fluffy Bodies climbing all over your lap.
>Mares stalk over and wait for their pats. You make it your top priority, tell them they are all Good Fluffies as well.
>Fucking forgot the First Rule: No touching the Mares unless absolutely necessary.
>At least now that they all got a pat, the Mares aren’t so pissed at Dark Red.
>Jesus ... last thing you need is another Jealousy War...


>Remember back when you still kept the First Generation all together in a single big shed. You were just starting out, only had the one Stallion and three Mares.
>Times were rough, Fluffy Ponies were everywhere, nobody knew what an Alicorn was.
>Mares went into season randomly, hadn’t figured out how to get them to enter estruss together at that stage.
>Stallion was a half-pied queer, you were sure of it.
>Then you sold the first litter.
>Fucking jackpot.
>The Mare was sad, damn near suicidal without her Foals.
>Kept on staring and staring at the other two Mares, one pregnant, the other only just having given birth.
>Came in the next morning to chaos.
>Stallion was nowhere to be seen, the Pregnant Mare as in a frenzy, having wedged herself between her bed and the wall and unable to move, babbling about ‘Bad Huggies’ and ‘Meanie Fwuffies’.
>The Foal-less Mare had snuck over for cuddles, and the New Mother, suspecting nothing, had given her friend the comforting Hugs she needed.
>Then woke up in the middle of the night to find one of her Foals was missing.
>The Foal-less Mare had stolen one of the Foals and was trying to encourage it to nurse from her, but she’d long since stopped producing milk.
>Fluffy Alicorns went to war, kicking, biting, tearing out tufts of fluff, shrieking at each other about ‘baybehs’ and ‘bad fwiends’ and ‘mine’.
>Had to separate them by force. Damn near killed each other by the time you realised this just wasn’t some jealous spat.
>Stallion was found hiding behind a bag of food, whimpering.
>Tried to take the foal back off the mare in the middle of the night, you worked out from his frightened whimpers, but the Foal-less Mare had bitten his wing and scared him badly.
>They spent all day screaming at each other, shooting sparks that fell well short of the target.
>It continued on for about a week until you eventually gave up and just separated the Mares completely.
>All of them cried at this, but soon they got over it.
>Mares were allowed to get together a week later, but the Foal-less Mare was immediately set upon by the other three Alicorns.
>She had to be permanently separated from the others.
>Stallion mounted her only under duress.
>Straw broom to his ass if he tried to back away.
>She gave birth, raised the Foals well, but refused to let you come anywhere near them.
>Ended up taking her out the back and shooting her.
>First time you had to put a Fluffy down, Alicorn or otherwise, and it was one of the saddest things.
>”Daddy, wut dat long ting?” She had asked as you lined the rifle up to the point where her horn grew out of her skull.
>”It’s a ... magic toy that will make the Other Fluffies like you again.” You lied, trying to keep your voice level.
>”Oh! Oh! Wan! Pwease! I sowwy, onwy no wan be wonwey nu moar!” She begged.
>Bang.
>Hand-reared the Foals yourself. Told them that their Mother had gone away on a long trip to the Moon, and that she loved them very much when they asked if she was coming back.
>Other Alicorns could smell the Mother on them, were always skittish around them, even after you assured them that the ‘Meanie Baybeh Stea’wer’ wasn’t coming back.
>Third Shed ... Foals are running around, playing and cheering as some customers walk around the Play-Pen, reaching down occasionally to pat or stroke a Foal.
>Mares watch from the back, happy to see their Foals getting played with.
>Your two employees, Jay and Bob, watch everything.
>Jay, a parapalegic, mans the till and fields questions. Good man, glad you gave him the job, it means the world to him to earn a wage, and he’s damn good at handling the paperwork, which saves you a hell of a lot of headaches.
>Bob, on the other hand, looks like somebody shaved a gorilla, made it lift small cars one-handed for years, covered it with tattoos and stuffed it into wal-mart clothing. Ex-con, didn’t have much in the way of credentials but fuck it, everyone deserves a second chance. Also the fact he’s willing to damn near murder people if they hurt the Alicorns is a plus.
>Have a sign out the front.
>Abusers will be fed to the Bob.
>After he put one of the freaks into a full body cast, the leering crown of ‘heroes’ quickly found other targets.
>”Take a break guys, I got this.” You say.
>Bob nods, walks over to Jay, and quietly wheels him away.
>Odd friendship. Bob can barely read, Jay can read and speak five languages.
>A couple comes over and inquires about purchasing an Alicorn.
>Explain that it’s best they take two, so the Alicorns have something to play with and also to keep them from getting bored.
>Explain they are as intelligent as a seven-year old, as opposed to the four-year old mentality of a regular Fluffy Pony.
>Also point out that you have to desex the Alicorns before they can leave the premises, to avoid a repeat of the Global Fluffy Food Shortages of 2020.
>The Couple are happy, they don’t want more Fluffies, just two well behaved ones.
>Point out a Peach-Pink and Cobalt-Blue pair they have been playing with.
>Ah. Child Replacements. Don’t say that out loud though.
>Tell them that’s fine, you’ll have the Fluffies ready to leave in a week. Ask if they want Trained or Untrained.
>Trained, please and thank you.
>Fucking yes. All Fluffies on your Breeding Farm are ‘trained’, simply because it’s annoying as all hell to train only a few at a time, just give the ‘untrained’ one a short hug with the Tazer and they’re ready to go.
>Ask them to pick up the foals, take a photo, print them out a copy with the date of purchase and the pickup date on the back.
>Wave them off, stare at the Foals and sigh.
>They are going to good homes, with plenty of good food and love waiting for them. Trained as they are, they’ll avoid irritating their owners and hopefully lead long and blissfully unaware lives.
>The Mares will be isolated with their remaining foals, given a small jolt to reset their ‘short term’ memories and told these are all the Foals they have.
>Foals will be isolated, told they are going to a Special Place and comforted as best they can be.
>Other Foals will probably, hopefully get bought soon as well.
>.........
>Otherwise they get put down. Horrible work, but it’s better than letting them build up and build up until the Breeding Farm is overrun with miserable, shit-covered Fluffies.
>If and when the Foals are all taken, and the ‘zapping’ starts to wear off, the Mares will start to panic and rush around, asking for their Foals, where did they go, when will they be coming back.
>That’s when the Tazer is put away and they get the full Zap process.
>Fluffy Mares get a full ten second of electrical current run through them.
>Takes them a week to recover in which time they recuperate while watching happy videos and being retaught how to use the Litter Tray and other things.
>Bob and Jay only manage the ‘store’.
>You manage the ‘grunt’ work.
>It’s your business, your work, to handle that heartbreaking task.
>Most of the time, the Foals all get bought, their gentle natures, cute forms and inquisitive minds endearing them to the customers.
>Only had to put down several foals in three years of operation. It’s heart-breaking work, but when you released them ....
>Look away from the Play Pen and out over the fence.
>See a Feral Herd standing on the other side of the electrified fence, glaring at the Alicorn Foals of the Fourth Shed playing in the Outdoors Pen, gnashing their teeth and making their horns sputter sparks.
>.............
>No animal should have to die like that.
>Not even a Fluffy Pony.