>It's been over two weeks since Sunflower killed her white foal.
>Despite being mated with Willow each day, she has failed to conceive.
>It's like she's denying pregnancy through sheer force of will.
>The only words that come out of her mouth are “No wan' babehs.”
>Sarah is growing annoyed with her failure to get pregnant.
>You've been trying a different tactic the past few days.
>Since two of the fuck pillows died, you've moved Willow and Sunflower into their former cage.
>Now he gets to mate with her at will, a process you've encouraged with a small dose of pheromone spray.
>You hear a steady stream of 'eenf' from that part of the basement.
>You have to remind Willow to take it easy or he'll hurt himself.
>He, of course, doesn't listen.
>”Wuv giwlfwiend Sunfwowa, gif huggies aww time!” he'll say.
>He thinks they're a couple because you've put them together.
>Oh well, if it'll help ensure she gets boned constantly, so be it.
>Four days after you put them together, Sunflower looks very lethargic.
“What's wrong, Sunflower?  Are you sick?”
>She barely looks up at you.  “Sunfwowa get funny feew in tummy...”
>This is another part of the job that the fluffies themselves help with.
>Somehow, the mares know when they've conceived successfully.
>This is the 'funny feel'.  They never try to hide it from anyone.
>In fact, they usually tell everyone within earshot.  It makes record keeping very easy.
>”Sunfwowa haf mo' babehs?  No wan'!  Jus' gon' take babehs 'way!”
>Great, she's entered that transitional phase.
>The newer dams are all very happy to get foals, at first.
>After a few litters, though, they realize pregnancy just leads to loss.
>Some of the dams actually manage to accept this naturally.
>The dams that don't get hit with the stun gun.
>The resets don't always stick, but they're enough for some of the dams.
>As reset-resistant dams get impregnated and birth more foals that are taken away, they become increasingly bitter until they finally break.
>This is the fuck pillow path, and Sunflower is on it.  She's already had a failed reset.
>You mark down the date of her conception in her paperwork and remove Willow from the cage.
>”Wha?  Gif back to giwlfwiend!  Wiwwow wan' stay wif giwlfwiend!” he whines.
>He forgets her when you give him a cookie.
>Sunflower is left in her cage alone now.  You replace her yellow sticker with a red one.
>Now all you can do is wait.
>Because fluffy genetics are so heavily manipulated, development occurs fast.
>For the first seven days, Sunflower is regularly sized, but very sluggish.
>”Back weggies feew funny!” she complains constantly.
>Her teats are beginning to load up with milk, causing her to feel strange.
>By the eighth day, the rest of her abdomen is beginning to swell.
>”Sunfwowa feew funny!  Weggies no wowk wight!” she whines.
>At this point, you move her down to basement two for the duration of her pregnancy.
>Usually, by the end of the second week the dam is as big as she's going to get.
>The next week or so is spent preparing her body for fluffsplosion – a process defeated by ingestion of their sodium hydroxide-laden food.
>Dams with small litters have shorter gestation periods, because less time is spent developing their foals than preparing their bodies to explode.
>Sarah hasn't yet found a way to force early labor besides hurting or stressing the dams.
>That isn't very efficient, since it produces a large percentage of stillborn or injured foals.
>And even more dead dams.
>On day fourteen, you are surprised to hear Sunflower crying in her cage, wobbling around uselessly on her side.
>She hasn't gotten very big, just large enough to lose the use of her legs.
>”Feew big poopies!  Babehs?  No wan' babehs, babehs jus' go 'way!  No wan'!”
>If she's ready this fast, she either has a very small litter or a lot of stillborn foals.
>You send Steve up to get Sarah, since she wanted to witness the birth.
>She arrives just as you set Sunflower on the table.
>”About fucking time,” she grumbles, walking over to stand beside you.
“Don't get too excited, it's only been two weeks.”
>Sarah folds her arms and glares down at the shivering yellow dam.
>”I better not get dead foals, Sunflower.”
>”Sunfwowa no wan' babehs...”
>You begin assisting with the birth.
>Since Sunflower is unusually small, you gently feel her stomach to ensure there's actual pressure.
>Her skin isn't completely taut, but her belly pushes back against your fingers.
>”Big poopies!” she whines as you check.
“She's ready.  Don't know what we're going to get, but it's something.”
>”Whatever it is, it better be alive.”
>The labor starts.  Sunflower's legs run through the air as she cries.
>”Big poopies!  No wan'!  No wan'!”
>You squeeze her gently. A bloody foal plops out onto the table.
>It is quiet.
>”Oh, for fuck's sake,” Sarah grumbles.
>”B-babeh come out?  Whewe babeh?”
>You pick up the foal.  It's breathing.
“This one's not dead.  Sunflower, clean it off.”
>She complains again, but does as told, licking the blood and slime from its face.
>With a tiny gasp, it begins to chirp.
>”Babeh!  Mumma hewe!”
>As the blood is cleaned away, white fuzz becomes visible.
>Sarah just smiles.  You begin squeezing again.
>”Owwies, no huwt!”
“Sorry.”
>A second slimy red foal pops out onto the table.  This one begins squeaking immediately.
>”Heaw babeh!  Come to mumma, babeh!”
>Everything else that emerges is afterbirth.  She's done.
>”Uh, is this usually so bloody?”
>You shrug at Sarah while you give Sunflower her second foal.
“Depends on the dam.  She would tell me if she were really hurting.”
>Sunflower continues to lick her foals clean.  They are both white.
>She growls angrily when you pick them up to sex and type them.
>”Gif back!  Gif owwies to Mista if no gif back babehs!”
>Sarah thwacks her on the nose, stopping her protest in its tracks.
>”Shut up, Sunflower.  What have we got?”
“One female white pegasus and one male white earth fluffy.”
>”No take babehs, pwease no take, pwease wet haf babehs, wan' wuv...”
>”Are they healthy?”
“Yeah, she wouldn't have cleaned them if they were rejects.”
>Surprisingly, Sarah pets Sunflower on the head.
>”Well, you're out of the doghouse now.”
>”Wha?  No am doggy, am Sunfwowa...”
>She rolls her eyes.  You move to put the foals into their respective pens.
>The bitching begins anew.  “No take babehs!  Gif owwies to meanie Mista!”
>She looks like a smarty friend with her cheeks puffed and glaring eyes.
>”Wait a second.”
>You look up at Sarah.  She motions you back to the table and takes the squeaking pegasus from your hand.
>It tries to suckle on her black fingernails while she shows it to Sunflower.
>”Now we're even.”
>”Pwease no take babehs!”
>”I'm not.”
>You blink at Sarah as she takes the white earth foal away, and sets both of them next to Sunflower's stomach.
>”You take good care of these foals, Sunflower.”
>”Sunfwowa...Sunfwowa haf babehs?  Wet haf babehs?”
>She can't believe it, and neither can you.
>”Yep.  You gave me what I wanted, and now I'm going to give you what you wanted.”
>Sarah leans down until her face is close to Sunflower's.
>”But if you try to kill your foals again, I will break every bone in your fluffy little body, got it?”
>She panics a little.  ”No wan' huwt!  Sunfwowa good mumma!  Wuv aww babehs!  Wuv babehs!”
>”Good girl.”
>Sarah departs.  You take Sunflower and her foals to the empty cage in basement one, to avoid harassment by the more jealous dams below.
>Once you're done setting them up, you take your lunch break and go topside.
>You catch Sarah in the storage room, making notes about how much food is left.
“Hey, why'd you let her keep them?”
>She looks back at you with a grin.
>”I've heard white fluff is a recessive trait.  Once her kids get older, we're gonna find out.”