A Foalish Day Off
Fleetfoot yawned, as she opened her eyes. The rays of Celestia's sun were shining down on her face so brightly that she could no longer ignore them. As the Wonderbolt's eyes adjusted themselves to the brightness, she could swear something was not right. Everything in her room looked so much bigger than it had last night. And was it her imagination, or did her body feel "different" for lack of a better term?
Fleetfoot struggled to lift the heavy blanket off of her body, it was then that she took notice of the fact that her hooves were rather tiny. Wait, tiny?! Quick as a flash, Fleetfoot wiggled her way out of the giant blanket and managed to flutter her wings enough to lift herself up to her bedroom mirror. Being one of the few Wonderbolts to work directly alongside Captain Spitfire had its perks, chief among them for Fleetfoot was access to her own private sleeping quarters. And no bedroom would be complete with a mirror, so Fleetfoot could ensure she was stylized and ready for the day.
Upon looking into the mirror, Fleetfoot nearly gasped in surprise! Staring back at her was a blueish-green coated foal with small puffs of white for a mane and tail, not to mention big fuchsia eyes, to say nothing of her chubby stature (though she was relieved to see her cutie mark hadn't disappeared). "Is that me?" Fleetfoot asked herself, surprised to hear how squeaky and high pitched her voice sounded. She waved a hoof in front of the mirror, and even blinked and rubbed her eyes. But her reflection didn't change even the slightest. There was no denying it, Fleetfoot had somehow turned into a foal.
Fleetfoot could hardly believe it, no way could this be real! Somehow this all had to be a strange dream or something, and she was going to wake up at any moment in a cold sweat. But deep down, as much as the Wonderbolt didn't want to admit, she knew it was real. That just left one question: How in the wide world of Equestria had she turned into a foal in the first place?
"I can't worry about that right now," Fleetfoot thought to herself, as she turned away from the bedroom mirror. "Foal or not I'm still a Wonderbolt! And I'll be darned if I let Misty Fly take my place at Spitfire's side because of this! I've worked my way up the ranks, I've earned that spot as third in command! Something like this isn't going to change that." But a problem soon presented itself to the tiny foal, namely how was she gonna explain this to Captain Spitfire? Heck, how would she explain this to her fellow Wonderbolts, who would surely take notice of her shrunken size and tiny body?
Fleetfoot shook her head, those were problems to sort out at a later date. For right now, her best bet would be to get down to Spitfire's office and try to explain herself. With that goal in mind, Fleetfoot leaped from her nightstand. It didn't take long for her to realize that wasn't a very bright idea. She struggled to flap her tiny wings, accomplishing this task just seconds before she would've hit the ground. But it took every ounce of strength from the young Wonderbolt (she despised the term "Junior Member", that was for newbies and Fleetfoot was no newbie) just to stay in the air. Trying to move across the room proved to be impossible, the instant she attempted to do so, her wings gave out and she hit the ground with a light thud.
Fleetfoot tried to stand up and dust herself off, but her tiny legs wouldn't cooperate. They wiggled and wobbled like wet noodles, and gave out on her, causing her to stumble face first back into the floor. Then, despite the fact that she wasn't really hurt or even upset, Fleetfoot found that she couldn't stop herself from crying. And was it her imagination, or did her crying sound really loud? Loud enough to probably break glass.
Well, all that crying did accomplish one thing. There soon came a knock on Fleetfoot's door, and a familiar authoritative voice called out. "Fleetfoot, is everything okay in there?"
Fleetfoot recognized that voice at once, it was Captain Spitfire. She immediately wanted to call back and say everything was fine, but for some reason she couldn't get herself to stop crying. She really didn't know why, she didn't think she had any reason to cry so much. She may have the body of a foal, but she didn't consider herself an actual foal. She still had her adult mind.
Naturally, when there was no response from Fleetfoot, the doorknob turned. Into the room trotted Spitfire, already dressed in her academy outfit complete with sunglasses and whistle. Spitfire almost immediately looked down, and when her eyes made contact with the shrunken Fleetfoot, her jaw dropped wide open! The sunglasses started to slide from her face, and the whistle just hung there. "Fleetfoot?" Spitfire asked, lowering herself to the foal's level.
Fleetfoot barely managed to croak out in response, "Yeah, it's me." before she continued to cry.
"What happened to you? Why are you a foal?" Spitfire demanded. "Did somepony do this to you?"
"I don't know." Fleetfoot replied, still crying.
Spitfire seemed to be trying her hardest not to plug her ears at Fleetfoot's audible wails, as she then tried to ask in a gentle tone. "Why are you crying, Fleetfoot?"
"I'm not crying," Fleetfoot protested, despite her sobs. "I just can't stop my body from things like this, it's like it has a mind of its own."
Instinctively, Spitfire reached out her hooves, and scooped Fleetfoot into them. She then rocked the foalified Wonderbolt back and forth, while lightly cooing at her. "There, there, Fleetfoot. Wonderbolts don't cry. And you are a Wonderbolt, even if you're currently the smallest one on the team," She chuckled, as she then added. "Maybe we should make you the team mascot. We could dress you up all nice and cute, and show you off to all our fans."
"Spitfire, don't!" Fleetfoot pleaded, her cries slowly ceasing.
Spitfire chuckled a little more, before she said to Fleetfoot. "I'm just teasing you, we'd never do something like that. Though I have to admit, you are an adorable little foal."
"I am NOT a foal!" Fleetfoot protested, folding her hooves across her chest in a pouting motion. "Just because I've shrunken in size doesn't mean I'm incapable of taking care of myself."
But Spitfire only shook her head. "Like it or not, you're a foal, Fleetfoot. And I don't think we have kind of uniforms fit for a foal, to say nothing of the fact that we don't really do diapers."
Fleetfoot became horrified at the mentioning of those crinkly undergarments, there was absolutely NO way she was going to be caught dead wearing one. "I don't need diapers! I still know how to go to the bathroom like a normal pony." She protested, relieved that she wasn't yet hearing the call of nature.
"Oh yeah, and just how do you propose you're gonna do that in your present state?" Spitfire teased. "You look like you can barely walk or fly, to say nothing of how small you are."
"I'll.... I'll think of something. Besides, maybe I'll turn back to normal before that needs ever arises." Fleetfoot quickly replied, mentally hoping that such would be the case.
Spitfire sighed, as much as she wanted to believe Fleetfoot, she had no way of knowing how long this regression would last. "Well, we don't know how long you're gonna be stuck like this, Fleetfoot. But I'm not taking any chances," Sighing again she commented. "I'll have to talk to Rainbow Dash and tell her to send a message to Princess Twilight. Hopefully, she'll know how to undo whatever's been done to you that turned you into a foal. In the meantime though, I'm afraid I don't have the time or resources to care for a foal. Not even one like you," Then she smiled as she added. "But, I know somepony who does."
Fleetfoot gulped and swallowed hard. "You can't possibly mean..." She began.
"I'm afraid I do," Spitfire replied, as she held Fleetfoot close to her chest and trotted off. "But don't you worry, Honey Sugar will take good care of you."
"That's what I'm afraid of." Fleetfoot thought, but she didn't bother to say it outloud. Once Spitfire made up her mind about something, she rarely changed it.
Spitfire carried Fleetfoot through the halls of the academy, shielding Fleetfoot with her wings whenever another Wonderbolt passed by (not that it stopped the likes of Soarin or Rainbow Dash from having a peek anyway, Spitfire quickly made them swear to secrecy though). At last, turning a corner, Spitfire approached her destination. Just a short distance away from Spitfire's office, there stood a door with the words "Honey Sugar's Daycare and Nursery" printed in faded letters.
Without even a second's hesitation, Spitfire pushed open the door and went inside. The room was mostly empty, with only a few foals running around and playing with things like rattles and alphabet blocks. Standing at the desk was an old looking, grey coated pegasus. Her mane and tail contained hints of yellow, but for the most part seemed void of color. Her mane had been tied back into a bun, while her tail had been trimmed short. Her brown eyes seemed faded a bit (Fleetfoot remembered that Honey Sugar was slightly blind. Since an incident where she'd mistaken a filly for a foal, she wore magical contacts to help her see better), but her cutie mark depicting a smiling face and two rattles crossed into an x stood out. She had on a white nanny cap, and had a poofy light brown dress that only barely reached her legs and tail.
"Hello, welcome to Honey Sugar's Daycare and Nursery," Honey Sugar greeted warmly to Spitfire. "How can I help you today?" Spitfire quickly deposited Fleetfoot on the desktop, prompting Honey Sugar to daw and coo. "Is this little one yours?" She asked Spitfire.
Spitfire shook her head. "This is Fleetfoot. And before you ask, yes, this is the same Fleetfoot who often works directly alongside Soarin and I," She then explained. "I found her like this this morning, and I figured it would best to leave her in a proper foalcare place until she turns back to normal."
Fleetfoot just pouted and stuck out her tongue, as she was scooped into Honey Sugar's embrace. "Don't you worry your pretty little head, Captain Spitfire," Honey Sugar smiled. "Fleetfoot will be in good hooves here."
"Are you sure you're up for the challenge?" Spitfire asked Honey Sugar. "I know you've got lots of experience, but Fleetfoot's not gonna be your typical foal."
Honey Sugar just laughed. "You let me come back and open the nursery again once I got those contacts, I assure you everything will be under control," She smiled as she then mentioned. "Besides, today I've got a young pony to help me out. She's only been on the job for a few days, but she's proving to be a quick learner when it comes to foalcare. Between the two of us, Fleetfoot won't be trouble at all. Is that right?"
"No promises." Fleetfoot snorted, turning her head.
Spitfire tried her best not to giggle too much, as she just said to Honey. "Well, hopefully I'll be back by the end of the day with a cure. And don't worry about payment, I'll make sure to have the bits ready when I come to pick Fleetfoot up."
Honey only shook her head. "Nonsense, Captain Spitfire. This won't cost you a bit. Just taking care of this little one is payment enough."
"Suit yourself, but if you change your mind just let me know," Spitfire replied. Then to Fleetfoot she instructed in a motherly tone. "Now Fleetfoot, you behave yourself and be a good little foal for Honey Sugar and her assistant, okay?"
"Spitfire, please, not in front of other ponies!" Fleetfoot pleaded.
"Ah come on, Fleetfoot, they're just foals." Spitfire smiled in response, and left the daycare after winking at Fleetfoot.
Fleetfoot just sighed, she could not believe her terrible luck. "Is this karma coming to bite me on the plot for what I convinced Spitfire to do at Rainbow Falls?" She thought to herself. "It was just supposed to be a test of Rainbow Dash's loyalty, to see if she'd drop everything and come fly with us at the first chance she got. I never intended for Soarin to be replaced, I just got caught up in the moment and forgot to tell him about that."
Fleetfoot's thoughts were soon interrupted though, as she was picked up by Honey Sugar who cooed as she said to Fleetfoot. "Now then, we'd better get you diapered right away, little Fleetfoot. Don't need you having an accident on the nice clean floors now, do we?"
"You're not gonna take no for an answer, are you?" Fleetfoot commented, rolling her eyes.
Honey Sugar nodded. "All foals are to be diapered, no ifs, ands, or buts. What kind of caretaker would I be if I let you run around without protection?" She carried Fleetfoot towards the back of the nursery, setting her down delicately on a green changing mat, and fastening a strap over her before Fleetfoot could even think of trying to run away.
Fleetfoot kicked her tiny legs and flailed her tiny hooves about, in the vain hopes that she might be able to break free. Honey Sugar took no notice, she just popped a pink pacifier into Fleetfoot's mouth and tied it around her neck. "There we go, that should calm you down, you fussy little foal," She replied, then she trotted over to a nearby drawer and took out a pack of "Silly Filly" brand diapers, which she then set down next to Fleetfoot. Opening up the package, she took out of the one diapers, the crinkling noises filling Fleetfoot with dread. "Now, hold still please." Honey instructed.
But Fleetfoot refused to cooperate, she could see the thick, white, crinkly diaper, and there was no way she was gonna just let one be put on her! She started screaming and squirming, though her protests were muffled behind the pacifier that bobbed up and down in her mouth as she spoke. "I'm not wearing that and you can't make me!" She protested, continuing to scream and kick like there was no tomorrow. But her efforts seemed in vain, as Honey Sugar drew slowly closer and moved the diaper closer to Fleetfoot's hind quarters. "No, no, no!" Fleetfoot screamed in vain, as the crinkling became louder and louder, as the diaper was moved closer and closer to her rump! In desperation, she increased the frequency of her kicks, hoping that somehow she could stop the diapering process! Somehow, she managed to deliver a kick straight to the snout of Honey Sugar, who flinched slightly and dropped the diaper on the floor, the undergarment giving off a few more crinkles as a result.
"I can see you're going to be quite the stubborn little foal," Honey commented, looking Fleetfoot square in the eyes. "Well, lucky for you, I know just what to do to get fussy little ones like you to behave." She lifted her head and gave a whistle.
To Fleetfoot's surprise, an orange coated pegasus filly came rushing over. Her purplish-pink mane and tail and grayish-purple eyes made her instantly recognizable to Fleetfoot, despite the fact that she was wearing a white nanny's cap. "Scootawoo?!" She exclaimed, the pacifier giving her words a slight lisp.
Scootaloo nodded. "So, you're Fleetfoot huh?" She asked the foalish Wonderbolt. "I've heard about you from Rainbow Dash, but I thought you'd be much older. I didn't think they let two year olds be Wonderbolts." She giggled at her teasing remark.
"Shut up, ish not funny!" Fleetfoot complained, deeply resenting the fact that her cheeks were turning bright red in embarrassment due to the lisp. "Why awe you even hewe?!" She demanded of Scootaloo.
"Well, my mom told me that since I got my cutie mark, I needed to start earning my own allowance instead of always asking her or Dad for it all the time," Scootaloo explained. "I was hoping I could get a job maybe helping out at the compound, but all the job offerings were for somepony older. They all told me I was too little."
"And that's when our paths crossed," Honey Sugar added. "I had just reopened this nursery and needed some help to keep with all the foals that come in here. Scootaloo was one of the first ponies to sign up, and I must say, she's been a wonderful assistant."
"I may not exactly like every aspect of foal care, especially the diaper changing part," Scootaloo commented, making a gag face. "But I figured 'If Diamond Tiara could foalsit the Cake Twins for a couple of weeks without any help, surely I can do the same with Honey Sugar.' And the rest is history," Then she asked Honey. "So, what do you need my help with? You need me to diaper Fleetfoot for you?"
Honey shook her head. "No, but I could use some help keeping Fleetfoot distracted. I have to get her diapered, but she's being ever so fussy."
"Say nomore, I'm on it!" Scootaloo eagerly vowed, and zipped away. She returned shortly with a rattle. "Hey Fleetfoot, do me a favor and look at the rattle, okay?" She instructed, and started shaking it.
"Does Scootaloo seriously think I'd be entertained by something like that?" Fleetfoot thought to herself, but for some reason she found that she was unable to resist looking at the shaking rattle anyway. Something about it mesmerized the tiny Wonderbolt, almost as if it were hypnotizing her. But rattles couldn't hypnotize ponies, right? Well, even if they didn't, this one was able to keep Fleetfoot distracted. And that gave Honey Sugar the opening she needed to slip the diaper onto Fleetfoot and tape it up nice and secure. Of course, Fleetfoot still felt (and heard) every minute of the process, but she was unable to bring herself to resist. The shaking rattle kept her completely content, even if she wanted nothing more than to flee.
Scootaloo finally stopped shaking the rattle, and Fleetfoot slowly returned to her senses as the strap on the changing mat was undone. Her eyes immediately drifted down to the rather thick diaper that now hugged her rump. It seemed like it was thicker than should be possible for a diaper, and Fleetfoot curiously reached a hoof out to poke it. The padding gave off a series of crinkles that seemed to be rather audible, at least to the foal. She tried to sit up, but the added weight of her diaper made that impossible.
Honey Sugar bent down and lifted Fleetfoot off the changing mat, patting the diaper a couple of times to make sure it was properly fastened. She then smiled, as Fleetfoot kicked about, struggling to adapt to her new padding. "It's a bit thicker than the usual foal brands," She said to Fleetfoot. "But that's because they have extra absorbency, they're practically guaranteed not to leak no matter how much they're used."
"Just great, as if I needed to be humiliated even more!" Fleetfoot thought to herself, mentally praying that this day would end soon and she would (hopefully) go back to being an adult. She'd had a good foalhood, had her fair share of foalish adventures, and been potty trained at a reasonable age. She was in no rush to revisit her foalhood, even just for a day.
Honey brought Fleetfoot back to the front of the nursery, and deposited her in a playpen. Patting the foal on the head she instructed. "You just play with some toys, okay sweetie? And if you need anything, just ask Scootaloo or I." She then went off to check on some other foals, leaving Fleetfoot alone in the playpen.
Fleetfoot eyed her surroundings, the playpen was too tall for her to jump up and escape from. And flying was out of the question. The diaper was too heavy, and in her diminished state she lacked the strength to overcome the extra weight. The playpen itself was full of your typical foal toys, including rattles, alphabet blocks, and squeaky toys that made noise when you banged them against something. Not to mention a wide assortment of plushies and stuffed animals.
"Go on, play with something." Scootaloo encouraged, appearing next to the playpen.
Fleetfoot looked up at Scootaloo. "Can I pwease be wet out of this pwaypen?" She pleaded. At least being able to walk (or more likely crawl due to how much the diaper pushed her legs apart) on her own power would give her some sense of independence. Plus, it might help when she would inevitably need to answer nature's call (she was already quite determined that she wasn't going to use her diaper, she would never survive the humiliation and embarrassment).
Scootaloo shook her head. "I'd love to, but I don't think Honey Sugar would approve. You could get lost, or hurt. I'm sorry, but you're gonna have to stay in that playpen, at least for right now. Maybe if you behave, I can talk to Honey Sugar about maybe letting you walk around a little later on." She then sat down in the nearby rocking chair, keeping one eye on Fleetfoot.
Fleetfoot just sat there, folding her hooves across her chest, as she mentally weighed her options. Spitfire probably wasn't coming back anytime soon, and Fleetfoot was feeling a little bit bored. But on the other hoof, stooping down to the level of playing with foal toys, even just for a little while, was sure to be a degrading and humiliating experience. For a few minutes, she was content to just stare at the clock mounted on the wall above the playpen, as if somehow that might will the hands to move faster. At last, Fleetfoot sighed, realizing that there was only one solution to her current problem. Reluctantly, she'd have to play with the toys provided. "Worst, day, ever." She thought to herself, as she slowly trotted over to some alphabet blocks and began to stack them into a tower.
Fleetfoot spent the next hour and a half occupying herself with the foal toys, only stopping when she heard her stomach start to rumble. Scootaloo heard it too, if her walking over to Fleetfoot's playpen was any indication. She bent down and picked Fleetfoot up, but then she paused and seemed to scrunch her face up a little, which Fleetfoot found most odd. "What?" She asked Scootaloo.
"It's your diaper," Scootaloo bluntly commented. "Don't tell me you don't feel that."
"What awe you tawking about?" Fleetfoot complained, before it hit her! That cold, damp feeling. The familiar stench of urine. Looking down at her diaper, Fleetfoot could see a noticeable yellow patch. Now that she thought about it, she could've sworn she'd felt pressure in her bladder a while back, but she'd shrugged it off as her mind playing tricks on her. Fleetfoot felt ashamed, she'd just peed herself like a foal! She hadn't wet herself since she was five years old, a fact she'd been most proud of.
Scootaloo's face remained scrunched up, as she took Fleetfoot to the changing room in back. As luck would have it, Honey Sugar was already there, and Scootaloo quickly hoofed the soggy foal over to her as the filly commented. "She's hungry, and she needs a change."
Honey Sugar smiled. "Thank you, Scootaloo. I can manage from here," She then suggested. "Why don't you wash your hooves and then head to the kitchen to get things ready for Fleetfoot? I'll be along shortly," Scootaloo seemed to oblige and trotted off, which just left Fleetfoot alone with Honey Sugar. "I hope you're not going to put up a fight this time. Foals need to be promptly changed so they don't get a rash." She said, speaking in a tone that sounded so cute Fleetfoot was certain it was exaggerated just to humiliate her.
All the same, Fleetfoot was glad to be changed out of her wet diaper and wiped clean. Despite Honey Sugar's statement about how it was natural for foals to wet themselves, Fleetfoot was convinced this would be the ONLY diaper change she'd be getting for the duration of her time under Honey's care. But she was still less than thrilled to have a diaper equally as thick as her old one taped to her rump, in fact, Fleetfoot was convinced this one was somehow thicker. At the least the crinkles seemed to be a lot louder, and she dwelled on this thought until she felt her diaper being pulled back. "What awe you doing?!" She demanded of Honey, only realizing after the fact that the pacifier was still in her mouth.
"Sprinkling in the foal powder of course. I have to make sure you don't get a diaper rash, they are most uncomfortable." Honey explained, as she gave a few taps on a container, and puffs of foal powder worked their way into Fleetfoot's diaper. It wasn't really that much, but the overwhelming scent of it made Fleetfoot sneeze. Said sneeze only prompting giggles and coos from Honey, despite how much Fleetfoot found such stuff embarrassing.
After washing her hooves in a nearby sink, Honey Sugar scooped up Fleetfoot, and carried her to the kitchen. Fleetfoot was quickly deposited in a high chair, and the bar was latched shut before she could try to escape. She was glad to have the pacifier finally taken out of her mouth, but the happy feeling faded just a second later when a bib was tied around Fleetfoot's neck. It was a baby pink bib with cutely drawn hearts and bunnies adoring almost every inch of it. "Was it so much to hope for just a plain white bib?" Fleetfoot mentally complained to herself, before she realized what she was thinking. "Wait, hold on! Why would I any kind of bib at all?! I don't need some stupid bib! Soarin's the messy eater, not me!"
But as Fleetfoot opened her mouth to protest, her eyes made contact with one of the jars Scootaloo was bringing over to Honey Sugar. The color of the goop contained within said jar was enough to make Fleetfoot gag. "I don't care how hungry I am, I'm not eating that stuff!" She complained, sticking out her tongue and turning away.
"Oh come now, there's no need to be a picky eater," Honey Sugar said to Fleetfoot, setting several jars of foal food down on a nearby table. "I've got every flavor of foal food imaginable. Strawberry, banana, apple, peach, blueberry, you name it."
Fleetfoot refused to turn her head. "I'm not eating that stuff and you can't make me!" She protested. "I'd rather starve than eat that slop you call food!"
"What about applesauce?" Scootaloo suggested to Fleetfoot. "We have some in the fridge. Would you eat that?"
Fleetfoot nodded. "Finally, some actual food!" So when Honey Sugar retrieved a jar of the stuff and placed some on a plastic spoon, Fleetfoot managed to (very reluctantly mind you) swallow her pride and allow herself to be spoon fed. Spoonful after spoonful of delicious applesauce was offered to her, and each time she opened up her mouth and accepted it. At first with some hesitation, but this slowly stopped as the spoon feeding went on. At last, Honey Sugar screwed the lid back on the jar, and put it away in the fridge.
But if Fleetfoot had been hoping to be let out of the highchair, she soon learned that wasn't going to happen. Instead, Scootaloo approached her with a wet cloth and started wiping Fleetfoot's face, despite Fleetfoot's protests. "Come on, I have to clean you up! Stop making this harder for the both of us and hold still, please!" Scootaloo pleaded, steadily growing more and more frustrated. "Gosh, the regular foals that come here aren't as stubborn and uncooperative as you are, Fleetfoot!"
"That's because I'm not a foal!" Fleetfoot protested, pounding her hooves on the highchair bar.
Scootaloo groaned as she responded by saying. "Oh come on, don't tell me you're serious. Yes, you still have your adult mind. But you've already worn and used a diaper, played with foal toys, and been spoon fed. You're pretty much a foal, Fleetfoot. And considering you're also a Wonderbolt, you really should be trying to set a better example for the rest of the foals."
But Fleetfoot persisted in her statement of defiance. "I may look like a foal, walk like a foal, and sound like a foal, but I am NOT a foal!" She complained loudly. "I am still Fleetfoot, the fastest Wonderbolt there ever was! And that hasn't changed despite my current state. I can clean myself."
Surprisingly, it was Honey Sugar who looked at Fleetfoot and commented. "Well, that's too bad. I was going to give you a bottle before I set you down for your nap..."
"What?! Now you expect me to take a nap like a foal?!" Fleetfoot complained, interrupting Honey Sugar.
"Think of it as a power nap if it makes you feel better. It works for Rainbow Dash, and for me." Scootaloo suggested.
Fleetfoot just shook her head. "I don't care what you wanna call it, I don't need one!"
Honey Sugar then commented in the sweetest voice possible. "Well, Fleetfoot. If you had let me finish, you would've learned that I was going to give you a bottle. But if you're going to be stubborn and uncooperative, you'll leave me no choice but to set you down for your power nap without a bottle."
"Does she seriously expect me to be bribed with a bottle of milk?" Fleetfoot thought to herself, but surprisingly when she opened her mouth to protest, another part of her mind started to think. "Then again, I am kind of thirsty. And I could use something to help wash down the applesauce." So instead of insisting that she didn't need a bottle, Fleetfoot said to Honey Sugar. "Fine, I'll cooperate in exchange for the bottle. But I'm not really tired yet."
Honey Sugar just gave a knowing wink, as she watched Scootaloo continue to wipe Fleetfoot's face clean, then prepared a bottle of milk. When it had been heated up to the appropriate temperature, she offered it to Fleetfoot, who accepted said bottle with no hesitations. Indeed, Fleetfoot sucked down the bottle lightning fast, delighting in the milk's sweet taste. It was definitely better than the bitter tasting coffee she usually drank to wake herself up in the morning. And she was so absorbed in this fact, that she almost didn't notice when Honey Sugar picked her up and patted her back. Suddenly, Fleetfoot was shocked to find herself letting out a burp, and a rather loud one at that. "Uh... excuse me?" She blushed, surprised at how quickly that had happened.
"You're excused, sweetie," Honey Sugar cooed, and gave Fleetfoot back to Scootaloo. "Now, I have to go check on the other foals. Then I will get your crib ready. When I come back, it's nap time for you. Got it?"
"Yes, yes, I heard you the first time. And I'm still not tired by the way." Fleetfoot complained, as Scootaloo carried her back to the nursery and deposited her in the playpen.
Just a minute or two after she'd been brought back into the nursery, however, Fleetfoot suddenly felt a familiar urge hit her. Her bladder was already notifying her that it would need to be emptied soon. The milk had gone right through her, and was already clearly intending to leave via her diaper. But the thought of intentionally wetting herself was disgusting to Fleetfoot, no way she was going to intentionally do that. At least last time it truly felt like an accident.
Nervously, Fleetfoot put down the stuffed bear she'd been playing with, and crawled to the side of the playpen. She then frantically called out. "Scootaloo!"
Scootaloo was at the playpen's side in a moment, looking down at Fleetfoot. "What's wrong? You need something?" Scootaloo asked the foalified Wonderbolt.
Fleetfoot crossed her hind legs as she nodded. "I have to go potty. Just number one, but really badly."
"You're wearing your potty," Scootaloo replied, pointing at the diaper. "I can change you before your nap. I've done it once or twice since I started working here. I've more or less got the hang of it."
Fleetfoot wasn't convinced, and even if she was that wouldn't have changed her mind. "I'm not wetting my diaper!" She protested, even though her bladder was already begging for release. "I want to use the bathroom like a grown-up."
Scootaloo shrugged, rubbing the back of her head. "Uh, I don't think Honey Sugar would be okay with that. You might fall into the toilet, or slip on the bathroom floor and hurt yourself. And then I'd get in trouble. Besides, how exactly are you gonna get up on the toilet seat? We don't have any step stools."
"Why do you think I'm asking you for help?" Fleetfoot groaned, all the while fighting back the urge to let go. "I promise I'll be careful and this will just stay between us. I just need your help getting onto the seat, flushing, and getting off, I can manage the rest just fine. We'd already probably be done with the whole ordeal if I wasn't sitting here, talking to you. Now come on, I can't hold it in much longer!"
Scootaloo was still uncertain about whether or not she should help Fleetfoot with her crazy idea. But upon seeing the distressed look on Fleetfoot's face, Scootaloo couldn't help but feel guilty. She wouldn't have liked being denied bathroom access if she knew she had to go. But there was still the size issue to work around. It was then that the filly got an idea. "Maybe there's an alternative," She thought. "I think we have something in case of emergencies. Maybe that could work." Deciding it was worth a try, she carefully picked up Fleetfoot and said to her. "Alright, I guess if we're quick about this, Honey Sugar doesn't have to know. But if we get into trouble, I'm telling her it was your idea."
"Whatever, let's just go!" Fleetfoot urged. And then she concentrated as hard as she could on holding back the floodgates, surprised at how hard that seemed to be.
Scootaloo trotted across the nursery as quickly as she could, though taking care not to go so fast that she made Fleetfoot slip from her grasp or lose control. She pushed open the bathroom door and went inside, quickly setting Fleetfoot down on the ground. "Okay, just give me a second." She encouraged the foal.
Fleetfoot immediately eyed the toilet, surprised at just how much bigger it looked to her in her current state, as opposed to how she was used to looking at it. But she was surprised when she didn't see Scootaloo move towards it and lift up the seat like she'd been expecting. She was even more surprised when she heard what sounded like plastic thumping down onto the floor. Before she could turn around to look, Fleetfoot felt herself being lifted up, and her diaper carefully removed, before she plopped down onto a brightly pink colored bowl. She recognized at once what it was, a training potty. "Hey, I thought you were gonna sit me on the toilet! This wasn't part of the deal!" Fleetfoot complained.
"I couldn't risk you falling in," Scootaloo explained. "Be lucky I'm even letting you use the training potty. It's only supposed to be used if a foal takes off their diaper at any point. Now go ahead and do what you have to do, I promise I won't look." And she instinctively turned her head to give Fleetfoot some privacy.
Fleetfoot was more than a little furious at Scootaloo not keeping her word (though Fleetfoot realized Scootaloo hadn't actually said anything about the toilet), but before she could even think of trying to move to the toilet, her bladder decided it was done holding back. "This is embarrassing, it's like I'm two years old again." She thought to herself, as she waited for her bladder to empty itself. Once Fleetfoot was certain she was finished, she lightly commented. "You can turn around now, Scootaloo."
Scootaloo obeyed, and Fleetfoot was certain the filly was going to make some overly embarrassing comment about how Fleetfoot was a good little foal for making pee-pees in the toddler potty. But Scootaloo said nothing, she just retrieved some wet wipes from the nearby bathroom cabinet, and used them to wipe Fleetfoot clean. Then she slowly re taped the diaper to Fleetfoot's rump, patting it a few times to make sure it was on properly. It was then that she picked up the training potty and poured its contents into the toilet, which she proceeded to flush. After closing the lid of the toilet, Scootaloo put the training potty back in its storage space, then washed her hooves before helping Fleetfoot do the same.
Fleetfoot was set back into the playpen, just as Honey Sugar came back in to inform Fleetfoot it was time for her "power nap". Surprisingly, Fleetfoot found herself unable to keep from yawning. "I guess not all of the milk left me," She thought, recalling how as a foal a warm bottle of milk would often knock her out in a matter of minutes. She could barely keep her eyes open, as the same pink pacifier from earlier was popped into her mouth again. By now Fleetfoot was actually starting to not mind it so much, not that she would ever admit such a thing. "Am I actually starting to like being a foal?" She thought, before she drifted off into a deep sleep.
For how long Fleetfoot was asleep for, she couldn't tell. All she knew was that she was woken up from her slumber by a hoof lightly poking her, and a familiar voice calling. "Fleetfoot?"
Fleetfoot almost didn't want to wake up, but she forced herself to do so anyway. And as she opened her eyes, she saw none other than Spitfire standing near her crib with a massive grin on her face. "Wakey wakey, sleepyhead," Spitfire teasingly cooed. "Did you have a nice nap?"
"Sure did," Fleetfoot replied, rubbing her eyes a bit. "I slept like a baby."
"I don't doubt that," Spitfire giggled a little, before she coughed into a hoof and added. "Anyway, you'll be happy to know that Princess Twilight just sent me the potion necessary to turn you back to normal. And before you ask: Yes, I made sure she had it properly tested to make sure it wasn't a dud."
Fleetfoot wanted to jump for joy at Spitfire's statement, but she didn't dare do so with the thick diaper pushing her legs apart. Even so, she eagerly asked. "Does that mean I can finally leave this stupid nursery?" Though she quickly turned to Honey Sugar and told her. "Uh, no offense."
"Oh it's fine, I know you didn't mean it," Honey smiled back. "Despite the circumstances of your stay here, I trust it was at least alright for you."
"I guess," Fleetfoot commented. "I mean, I could've done without the whole spoon feeding and hypnotic rattle stuff, but the rest wasn't actually as bad as I thought it would be. Though next time, could you please get some diapers that are less thick? I swear, not only do these things make it difficult to do anything but crawl, but they also make my butt look big." Spitfire and Honey Sugar both snickered at that comment.
Spitfire then bent down, as the bars on Fleetfoot's crib were removed, and Fleetfoot found herself in Spitfire's hooves once again. "Come on, let's get you back to being the fussy adult you were yesterday," Spitfire instructed, and then she asked Fleetfoot. "So what was it like being in diapers again?"
"Don't even ask, it's too humiliating!" Fleetfoot groaned. "And if I ever find who was responsible for turning me into a foal! I'm gonna make them wish they were never born! Now where's that potion?! I've been a foal for far too long today!"
Spitfire produced a vial containing a blue colored liquid. But when Fleetfoot reached out to grab it, Spitfire held it aloft and tsked. "Ah ah ah, Fleetfoot. What's the magic word?"
"Spitfire, please don't play this game with me!" Fleetfoot groaned again, but her words fell on deaf ears. Reluctantly, she said to her captain. "Please?"
Spitfire nodded. "Bingo!" And after unscrewing the lid of the vial, she carefully offered the tip of it to Fleetfoot. "Go ahead, drink up. Make sure to get every last drop, those were Princess Twilight's direct orders."
Fleetfoot did so, but had to struggle not to gag at the blue liquid's repulsive taste! Even the foal food she'd been offered probably wouldn't have tasted as yucky. Fortunately, in a matter of minutes, the vial was empty, and the last drops of its contents were safely inside Fleetfoot's mouth. Spitfire set Fleetfoot down on the ground, as the young Wonderbolt slowly returned to her normal adult body, her diaper ripping apart in the process.
"Well, that was an experience I hope I'll never have to experience again," Fleetfoot commented, as she readjusted to her adult body. Turning to Spitfire she said with a growl. "You'd better not tell anypony about this, or I swear to Celestia I will sneak into your bedroom at night and stick your hoof in warm water!"
"Relax, I won't tell anypony. Little Fleetfoot." Spitfire said with a wink, prompting a groan from Fleetfoot, who rushed out of the daycare without another word.
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Content
Really cute. Fleet foot is an adorable foal
I kind of wish she became the wonderbolts adorable mascot
Really Adorable!
It was good, I'm surprised Scootaloo didn't feel uncomfortable working with Honey Sugar. Also glad you gave her a cutie mark, that was something I never really thought of giving her when I wrote my fic.
8094222 Well, it's better than being on the receiving end of her treatment. Plus, beggers can't be choosers.
Yes Fleetfoot, this is Karma coming to bite you in the back. ...Well, I dare you to think up a reasonable explanation. And really SuperPink, that's the only problem I have here. You need to explain how or why Fleetfoot was foalified. Otherwise, not bad of a story and quite cute at some points.
8094006 She is kinda cute, even as an adult, isn't she? Then again, most ponies are. It's a requirement, just like cats.
Not bad. I don't think there's ever been a padded pony fic for Fleetfoot.
8094395
8094439
Agreed.
8094395 8097822 It was never my intent to ellaborate on how or why Fleetfoot became a foal, that was intentionally left open to interpretation.
8098705 Ah.
8094006
You and me both.
I wanted to see a sequel to this story where spitfire becomes a foal
From what I remember of being younger, Scootaloo should have rinsed out the bowl of the potty chair in the sink and then dried it out with paper towels (or something similar). Other than that she seemed to do it by the book (since the bowl was only wet).
I remember this as clearly as I do because I was small for my age, we didn’t have any step stools in the house when I was growing up, and I didn’t have the strength or coordination needed to climb yet. As as result, my parents only put away (and eventually threw out) my potty chair when I turned four years old. So chances are my memories of this are at least somewhat accurate.