F.T.R.

yippyskippy1909, November 8, 2015; 16:45 / FB 34438
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F.T.R.
By: yippyskippy1909

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Author's Note: This story is written to say “thank you” to FluffShep_47 since he was nice enough to give me Skyline as my own personal floof. His character “Arboria” is used here with his permission. Lyrics from “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” are copyright Gordon Lightfoot and Warner Music Group.
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“She's what now?” Stuart asked in disbelief.

“I said she's pregnant.” Michael confirmed as he pointed to the screen on the ultrasound machine.

Stuart shook his head. “No, no, no that's just not possible. They're all ~supposed~ to be sterile.”

“I thought so too.” the vet replied. “And yet, here we are. There's no doubt she has at least three foals in there.”

Arboria lay on the examining table. She didn't understand the mushy liquid on her tummy or the little warm thing the one human kept rubbing on her but she did understand the part about being a mother soon. She knew that a long time ago.

“So...what do I do now?” Stuart asked confused.

Michael leaned in closer. “That's up to you. If you let her come to term and the foals are born live, this could be the first instance of one breeding naturally outside of Hasbio's facilities. Do you have any idea who the father could be?”

Stuart thought for a second. “The only time she's not under my supervision is at day care...” he closed his eyes and tapped the side of his head. “Yes, there's a fancy black stallion I see her playing with every so often.” he shook his head and waved his hands, “No, the staff there are very reliable. They'd never allow two fluffies to...ahem...go at it.”

“And yet, somehow she has three buns in her oven.” Michael countered. “Look, if I were you, I'd keep this quiet. Keep her out of day care and away from public places so people don't see her getting bigger. Maybe try to contact the owner of the black stallion and send him to see me. I'd like to examine him as well.”

“How long do I have until she gives birth?” Stuart asked.

“That's hard to say since we don't have a precident.” Michael replied. “We also don't know how old they are when Hasbio ships them. If I had to guess, two...maybe three weeks?”

XXXX

Page ten of Hasbio's online catalog advertised their limited edition seasonal fluffies. Arboria was a “frost” model from the winter collection. She was highly exclusive because only 100 “frosts” would be produced for the entire American market and only for the 2013 model year. Buyers had no choice of sex or sub-species. Stuart remembered the tension of waiting for the confirmation email. When it finally arrived, he was awarded #74; a female Earth type.

Arboria was delivered on December 21st. Stuart remembered how he carefully lifted the sleeping foal out of the shipping box and nudged her awake. There was a warning card which said the product could emit sudden loud noises but Arboria never let out more than a soft whimper. In fact, she never cried at all. The only way Stuart could tell she was distressed was when she rolled on her back and tucked her tail between her legs.

The little foal found herself at center stage when Stuart took her along to his parent's house for Christmas. Everyone marveled at how warm she was or complimented the softness of her fur. There was a bit of competition come feeding time to hold her as she hungrily suckled on the bottle. During one feeding, she had an accident on Stuart's dad's hand. “Ah, don't worry about it!” he laughed “Besides, you used to do that too!”

On the night of Christmas Eve, Stuart found his mother alone in the living room cradling Arboria on her shoulder. She slowly rocked back and forth as she quietly sang a familiar song. The little foal cooed and purred in time to the rhythm.

“In a rustic old hall in Detroit they prayed,
In the maritime sailors' cathedral.
And the chruch bell chimed, 'til it rang 29 times
For each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald.

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call Gitche Gumee.
Superior, they said, never gives up her dead
When the gales of November come early.”

“You sang that to me whenever I couldn't sleep.” Stuart said when she finished.

His mother gingerly handed over the sleeping floof ball. “Unlike you, I only had to sing it to her once.” She leaned back in the chair. “But then again, maybe if I had some grandchildren, we could do a proper comparison.”

Stuart sighed and rolled his eyes as he turned to leave. “This again...”

XXXX

While her body matured, Arboria's personality remained quiet and reserved. She never asked for anything. Stuart had to learn to recognize a slight twitch of her ears as the indication of when she really wanted something. When her desires were fulfilled, she insisted on saying “thank you” with lots of hugging and face licking. Whenever she was sad or depressed, she needed to be held, rocked and sung to. If she was bad, she would huddle in her nesting box and cringe when Stuart entered the safe room; expecting a punishment that never came.

Upon arriving home from the vet, Arboria's ears twitched like they never had before. She was very excited at the prospect of being a mother. Stuart was excited too. He couldn't wait to tell his mom the wonderful…

“No,” he told himself. “Michael said not to tell anyone.” There was one person he did need to contact though. Stuart dialed the number for the Happy Fluffy Family Day Care. “Yes, hello. This is Stuart McAllister calling. I'm the owner of Arboria; the limited edition fro-... yes, that's correct. Hey, I was wondering if you could give me the contact information for the owner of the fancy black stallion she's always playing with. I just got back from my vet and he'd like to check him out. No, it's nothing serious. Yes, he is fluffy certified.”

XXXX

Two weeks after the examination, Arboria's mobility was limited to eating and using her litter box. The normally quiet fluffy now whined and whimpered whenever she had to leave her nesting box. Stuart recognized that she must be getting close. He spoke to his boss about taking some holiday time. On the second night of his holidays, he was awoken by Arboria moaning for him.

When he opened the safe room door, he found her lying next to the litter box. “Daddeh, Awbowia nee make biggest poopies.” she cried. “Nu can get in wittah bowks.” As Stuart knelt down to help his fluffy into the litter box, something abnormal under her tail caught his eye. His eyes widened as he realized what it was. The head of a foal. She didn't need to use the litter box; she was giving birth!

Stuart grabbed the HB-X lounge pillow from the middle of the room. Gingerly, he rolled Arboria onto her back. He ran out of the room to quickly wash his hands. There was no time to call the vet. He'd have to deliver the foals himself.

When he returned to the safe room, the first foal was already out. It lay motionless on the pillow. Stuart carefully picked it up in a towel and cleared the amniotic fluid away from its mouth with a  Q-Tip. The little black unicorn's chest heaved as it drew its first breath. It let out a soft peep as it exhaled. The first naturally born foal outside of Hasbio's facilities was alive! Stuart laid the baby aside. The second one had already started to crown.

The next foal needed a little help coming into the world. Stuart had to use his fingers to work around its body. He had to be gentle as the foals seemed so fragile. Eventually, it did work free. The white pegasus let out its first peep. Two for two.

The last baby was a light blue Earth type. Unlike its litter mates, it wouldn't take its first breath. “Come on little one,” Stuart encouraged and he rubbed his finger on its back “we're all waiting for you.” He pressed his mouth to the foal and started humming. He had no idea why other than the vibration might stir it to life. Arboria looked up hopefully.

~peep~

Stuart gently placed all three foals on the pillow next to his fluffy. Arboria's ears twitched as she looked over her squirming, peeping brood. This was something she'd really, really wanted. She licked her foals one by one and gathered them into her bountiful chest fluff. “Daddeh wet Awbowia keep babbehs pwease?” she begged.

“Of course dear.” Stuart reassured her. “Of course you can.”

XXXX

Stuart stared at his guests on the door step. Michael, he recognized, but the other man in the expensive suit was a stranger. Behind them stood two uniformed police officers. “What's going on here?” he asked his vet.

The man in the suit adjusted his glasses. “My name is Vincent Graham.” he started coldly. “I represent Hasbio Incorporated and their subsidiary, HB-X Industries. It has come to our attention that you are in possession of a defective product of ours.” the man pulled a piece of folded paper from his vest and handed it to Stuart. “I am here today to initiate a product recall.”

“A recall?” Stuart asked “But why? Arboria's not broken.”

“Yes, she is.” Michael interjected. “You called me about it this morning, remember?”

Stuart recalled his excited conversation with his vet that morning. How he told him the birth was a success and that Arboria had three live foals. “Wait, you mean...”

Michael nodded. “That's right. I work for Hasbio. ~ALL~ fluffy certified vets do.” He let out a slight laugh. “What? Did you honestly think they'd just let anyone tinker with a product like these?”

One of the police officers stepped forward. “Sir, it's my duty to serve you this warrant.” he said as he handed Stuart a search warrant. The section describing what property was to be searched for and seized if found listed “Hasbio/HB-X bio-toy, frost limited edition, female, Earth type, serial # 121074 and any non-genuine copies of Hasbio/HB-X products.” They were going to take Arboria and her foals!

“I wish to delay this search until my lawyer is present.” Stuart told Vincent in an attempt to stall.

“Sorry, but you can't do that.” Vincent replied. He pulled multiple pieces of paper from his briefcase and waived them in Stuart's face. “These are signed copies of our license agreement. The license agreement YOU signed, Mr. McAllister but evidently you never bothered to read.”

A feeling of dread crept over Stuart's head. He never did read the license agreements each time he was presented with one to sign.

“You see,” Vincent continued. “you were granted a license to care for and maintain the product. At no point did you ever have legal custody or ownership of it. Hasbio retains the right to carry out a product recall without the need for your consent at any time. We also have evidence and testimony showing that you have willfully violated our license agreement and that you have used our product to make unauthorized copi-”

“SHE GAVE BIRTH FOR FUCK SAKE!!” Stuart yelled. “IT'S SOMETHING ALL ANIMALS DO!!”

Vincent removed his glasses. “Animals, yes.” he replied calmly. “Bio-toys, no. Your product is defective, Mr. McAllister. We simply want to repair it.”

“And if I don't let you?” Stuart asked threateningly.

“An obstruction of justice charge for failure to comply with the search warrant. After that, I'm afraid we'll have to take further legal action.” Vincent said as he replaced his glasses. “You could be fined $25,000 for every day you're found in non-compliance and then there's the $250,000 fine per violation for counterfeiting our products. If I'm not mistaken, that would be three counts in your case. We could delete our records of your frost mare as well if you'd like to make it a nice even million.”

Stuart looked at the search warrant in his hand. Vincent was listed among the officers of the court allowed to conduct the search and seizure. He hated the very idea of this corporate scuzzbag coming into his house nevermind the fact that he was going to take Arboria and her foals away. Grudgingly, he stepped aside. What chance did the little guy have against the power of a multi-billion dollar corporation?

The two police officers followed Vincent into the house. Stuart gave Michael his best death glare. “YOU did this you asshole.” Stuart threatened in a low voice. He wasn't normally a violent man but the next statement came tumbling out anyway. “If they hurt Arboria or her foals, I'll see the surprised look on your face before you hear the bang.”

“Oh, what are you so pissed off about?” Michael laughed casually. “They're just toys.”

Vincent and the police officers reappeared. Vincent carried a perforated cardboard box while one of the cops carried Arboria. The lawyer stopped after he crossed the threshold. “One more thing, Mr. McAllister.” He reached into his briefcase again and handed Stuart one last document. “The is a gag order. I suggest you read it carefully because the consequences for breaking it will be very expensive.”

The foals peeped and chirped softly inside the box as Vincent carried them back to his car. Tears soaked Arboria's furry face as she reached her hoof out over the police officer's shoulder in Stuart's direction. It was her last plea for help before she was handed over to Vincent and the car door closed.

XXXX

Stuart's lawyer told him that there would have been legal options had he been contacted when the incident happened but for now, he advised Stuart to abide by the gag order. This meant he couldn't even call Hasbio to find out any information about Arboria.

The one bright spot was a story on the news. Apparently, local veterinarian Michael Graves had been found brutally beaten with his throat slashed in a dumpster in the industrial area of the city. Stuart breathed a sigh of relief. At least now he didn't have to follow through on his threat. Someone else had done it for him.

XXXX

The front doorbell rang on Saturday morning. Outside stood a delivery guy. Stuart's heart jumped when he saw Hasbio's logo on the van at the curb. He quickly signed for the package and carried it inside.

Tearing open the box, he found Arboria sleeping on a foam pad. She had an adult size version of the anal plug she was shipped with as a foal. Speaking of foals, they weren't in the box. Packed along with her was a work order.

“Performed F.T.R. removal of non-standard parts - success. Performed update #36 – success. Performed product reset – success. HANDLE PRODUCT WITH EXTREME CARE FOR 3-5 DAYS UPON RECEIPT. WASTE PLUG MUST BE...”

Stuart threw the paper aside. He gently lifted Arboria out of the box. Her abdomen had been shaved and now sported a line of large sutures. They performed surgery on her; probably to take out her reproductive organs. What bothered him the most was the last line. What the heck was a “product reset”?

XXXX

Arboria backed herself into the rear wall of the cage. She and her babies had been taken away from their nice daddy and his nice house. She could hear her foals crying next to the cage. They needed her but she couldn't get to them.

“What are we doing with the foals?” a voice asked.

“Burn them.” another voice answered. “We can't have any evidence of them breeding outside of our facilities.”

“And the mare?” the first voice asked.

“Give it a factory thorough repair and take out any reproductive bits that shouldn't be in there. Install update #36 and do a double memory reset.” the second voice answered.

“A double reset?” the first voice questioned. “That could fry her brain. She's a limited edition and-”

“And what?” The second voice cut in. “The only reason we call them limited editions is as an excuse to jack up the price. Their numbers are limited because WE say they are. We could make thousands of these things if we wanted to.” The second voice called again; this time it sounded farther away. “Cut it and cook its brain before three o'clock. Got it?”

“Yes sir!” the first voice replied. The cage door opened and a hand reached inside.

XXXX

The frost mare opened her eyes. She was being held by a strange human. He seemed to be very deeply concerned about her. He kept calling her “Arboria” for some reason. He was crying and hugging her tightly. Her tummy already hurt but this was making it hurt more.

“Nice mistah?” she started. “Pwease wet fwuffy down. Tummy haf biggest owwies.”

The man froze. “Arboria, don't you remember me?” he asked. “Don't you remember your babies?”

“Fwuffy nu know nice mistah ow dis Awbowia fewwow. Fwuffy nu haf babbehs.” she told him. “Nice mistah be fwuffy nyu daddeh?”

The man carried her over to a chair and sat down while still holding her. “This must be what they mean by a reset. They took away your memory.” The man shifted the mare so her head could rest on his shoulder. “Try to remember, okay” He started gently tapping a beat on her shoulders with his hand.

“The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call Gitche Gumee
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
When the skies of November turn gloomy”

The song sounded familiar. The mare tried hard to remember. A foggy scene from her foalhood briefly flashed through her mind. Before she could make out the details, it was gone. The man continued singing but no more memories returned. The fact that he cared for her was obvious. The mare drifted off to sleep again, cradled in her new daddy's arms.

Arboria, huh? What a nice name.

THE END