Diapered Pet Pony


                                            >You are Blank Canvas, although that name might end up changed soon.

                                            >Someone had bought you, almost directly after you graduated your training class.

                                            >The details given were very scarce, but you seemed to be going into a neighborhood instead of some slave farm or company housing. That at least gave you some hope that swallowing your pride and being "exemplary" during training landed you as a domestic pony instead of the poor souls sent off for manual labor or other "unskilled" tasks.

                                            >You ponder what you might end up doing soon. A maid is the most likely, especially as the neighborhood seems a bit more affluent. A nanny is another possibility. That one might be a bit difficult. It seemed like ponies taking care of children was often a parent attempting to give the children a new toy that could also count as supervision.

                                            >After you pull into a driveway your handler grabs the leash on your harness and gives you a sharp look. As if you were really in a position to try anything, or could run off here. You know you'd never survive on your own here. Nopony really could, with no magic and this whole planet working like that everfree forest you had heard of back when you used to still live in Equestria.

                                            >A tug gets your attention and you scramble to get out of the car properly and follow behind. Leashes were always doubly uncomfortable. There was the obvious aspect of being controlled, but the less thought of one was that pony legs were tiny in comparison to a human! They always walked too fast and you had to run to keep pace if they were in even the slightest hurry.

                                            >Your handler knocking on the door brings the start of the next chapter of your life.


                                            >You are Anon and holy fuck your pony is finally here!

                                            >You sprint to the door and open it wide. Before you can meet your pony you have to sign for her though. The guy seems unpleasant, you hope he wasn't too mean to your little pony on the ride over. You guide her in once the leash has been handed over and take a knee so you can get a better look.

                                            >She's even more precious than the pictures in her file! She looks terribly anxious, as to be expected, but she has such a silky coat, nearly white with just a hint towards cream. Black mane and a little brush on her flank that looks like it's painting directly onto her. A bit tiny, even by pony standards. She's only a little bit bigger than some of the fillies you've seen.

                                            >Contain your spaghetti for just a little longer. No need to make a bad impression after all. She's waiting on you to address her and is probably getting a little freaked out at how long you're taking to acknowledge her.


                                            >You are Blank Canvas and this human seems very pleased with your arrival. Great, you can work with that.

                                            >First impressions are important! Especially when you have a return policy related to you.

                                            >It takes a moment for the human to address you, and you're certain to only speak when spoken to until told otherwise. Your expectations of a strict owner drop quite a bit when he regards you with such a friendly sounding voice.

                                            "Hi there little lady! You certainly are a cute thing, just like they said. I'm Anonymous. I don't mind being called Anon, although in public you should stick to "Master" for formality. Before I give you the tour around here though, I have something for you!"

                                            >He ushers you a bit further in and grabs something off of a table top. It looks like a collar, and a fairly nice one at that. As he undoes your harness and clips the collar onto your neck, you find yourself thanking the stars that it isn't leather. It's actually much more comfortable than any other you've been forced to wear. You manage a glimpse at the tag as it goes one and you're pretty sure it has your proper name on it, so at least he doesn't seem to plan on changing it.

                                            >"Thank you sir, it is a very kind gift." Far better to be potentially reprimanded for being overly formal than too casual about it.

                                            "Of course! I'll give you a tour around your new home now, can't have you getting lost."

                                            >During the course of the tour you notice that the doorknobs are not the pony-friendly kind which is going to inhibit your movement quite a bit if any of them are kept closed. The kitchen has a booster seat on one of the chairs, is he planning on allowing you to eat with him? That's a rather rare mark of status for a pony. What else is he planning on indulging you with?

                                            >"Sir, if I may ask, what are my expected duties while within your household?"

                                            "Duties? Oh, don't worry about that. I've been looking for more of a companion. Ever since ponies arrived I've always wanted to rescue one of you and take care of them. I finally had enough money saved up and when I saw you I just knew you would be the perfect one."

                                            >Ah, so you were a pet. That was quite possibly the best fate a pony could ask for. It wasn't very dignified, but it was supposed to be a comfortable and easy life.

                                            "Only some very minor chores, and even then I only really expect you to clean up any minor messes you make. Your room isn't quite ready yet, so unfortunately you'll have to sleep in the living room for the night. I want the finished room to be a surprise when it's done!"

                                            >"To be allowed my own room is a privilege itself, I appreciate it whenever it is ready."

                                            >This is far too good to be true, your own room and furniture? An owner that seems to want to actively spoil you as much as he can? There has to be a catch to this.

                                            >You enter the living room and find that it's quite a cozy space. A pet bed is present near the fireplace, it'll be a comfy place to nap compared to some of the places you've slept. You're certain you must be blushing up a storm though at the sight of the package of absorbent sheets though, with one resting on top of the bed. Why in the world would he put down puppy pads?!

                                            >You gesture at them for a moment, getting his attention.

                                            "Oh, the file on you had mentioned you used to have some problems with bed wetting at one point, so I thought it might be a good idea to be cautious for a few nights. New environment and all, you know?"

                                            >That was years ago when they first brought you across the portal! Granted, you were a young teen when they dragged you to Earth, but you were just a late bloomer! You were an adult mare now and had been dry for long enough for them to have updated the file. Your relatively good mood about your luck has soured a bit after this humiliation.

                                            >"I can assure you that I am completely housebroken!"

                                            >You really didn't mean to snap like that, but he doesn't even acknowledge it.

                                            "Well, humor me for now and we can get rid of them at some point, ok?"

                                            >"Understood, Sir."


                                            >The rest of the evening passed rather quickly as you got settled in. You were allowed a proper salad at dinner instead of the processed "pony food" that you've been stuck with for years. You almost cried at the taste of something fresh with actual taste to it, but you managed to hold yourself together. Anon still seemed quite pleased at how much you enjoyed the meal though.

                                            >Exploring the house in a bit more depth yielded little info, aside from being given permission to use the television and getting told that both a pony-friendly controller and keyboard were on their way for the game system and computer respectively. You didn't even know there were enough ponies allowed that sort of thing for there to even be a market for them!

                                            >Getting ready for bed felt awkward though, considering you knew what was waiting for you. The  plastic backed padded sheet brought back all the bad memories associated with it. Being stuck in a bad situation together hadn't made the other fillies and colts more empathetic to your situation, and close quarters meant you couldn't hide it.

                                            >The bullying was constant, even spreading as far as some telling prospective owners looking to "adopt" so that they would lose interest in you. The "dorms" were somewhere between a kennel and an orphanage, and given that younger ponies tended to endear themselves to the crowd searching for pets rather than slaves, were absolutely as cut-throat as orphans trying to be the one that goes to a home.

                                            >The bed was at least more comfortable than your old crate though. Being given the spacious freedom of an open room around you, it felt slightly off. You drifted off to the disconcerting thought that you somehow felt safer with barred walls around you.

                                            >You wake up some time in the middle of the night and you REALLY need to pee. Like, worse than you can ever remember. An involuntary whimper slips out as you manage to get up and you can practically feel the contents of your bladder sloshing. Hind legs squeezed as tight as you can manage, you hobble toward the bathroom.

                                            >You have a moment of panic when you realize that the bathroom door is closed and that stupid knob would require you to stand on your hind legs to try to open it. Even attempting to rear up only results in a leak you need to focus your full attention to stopping. There aren't any potted plants to water and you need to figure out a solution FAST if you're going to avoid leaving a puddle.

                                            >You remember the absorbent mat in the living room! It's a horrible option and humiliating, but mildly less so than needing to search for a mop. You've accepted that your thighs are damp and you'll need to scrub the smell of urine off yourself tomorrow morning, but it still takes a lot of effort to not leave a trail behind you. After miraculously holding on though, you scoot the pad a bit off of your bed and begin to let go as soon as you're positioned over it.

                                            >The mat is taking the soaking surprisingly well, you had been a bit worried it would simply spill over the sides at the rate you were going. You'd managed to get a fair bit more on your coat and tail than you had initially thought as well. You can't even count this as being resourceful in a bad situation at this point. It was fully an accident that you lucked out on limiting the damage of.

                                            >Explaining this in the morning is going to be hard and you need to decide now if you tell the truth of having wet yourself while awake, or lie and say your old bed wetting issues may have returned. You drift off to sleep trying to fight back tears.


                                            >You are Anon and today is another big day!

                                            >Yesterday was obviously important, but today was the day you would find out how receptive your little pony would be to your plan. It'd be an awful shame to have to rehome her for being uncooperative. She's such a cute thing and you're sure she'd warm up to the idea just fine if you get her to accept it long enough to get used to it.

                                            >Walking into the living room, you notice the smell of urine right away. Seems you might have actually been right about the whole thing instead of just trying to fluster her a bit.

                                            >You had been very surprised to find a "housebreaking impaired" pony in her age group that was medically fine. That was admittedly a major draw for you, as opposed to the difficulty they would normally encounter placing a pony like that.

                                            >She needed to wake up though, no matter how cute she was sleeping like that. You give her a gentle nudge.

                                            >"Wakey wakey, it's time to start the day. I think the first thing should be a bath though, don't you?"

                                            >She yawns cutely and then seems to realize what's going on, looking almost on the verge of tears.

                                            >"Shh, don't cry, it's ok. Accidents happen, I'm not mad. We just need to get you cleaned up before anything else, ok? Head over to the bathroom and I'll meet you there after I throw this thing out."

                                            >She looks like she's about to argue, though your aren't sure if it's about cleaning up herself, or the implication that you'll be bathing her. Either way, she gives a hesitant nod of understanding and walks off, tail between her legs.


                                            >You are Blank Canvas and oh god that was one of the most embarrassing moments of your life.

                                            >It was bad enough you had to actually sleep on that gross thing to sell your story, but then he started talking to you like you were a foal!

                                            >Granted he was taking the whole thing well and was trying to be kind about it, but you want something to be mad about to distract you. He was in there cleaning up after you and you're pretty sure he just implied he would be bathing you as well. You hadn't really thought of that  when your status as a pet came up, but you would have assumed most pet owners would be happy to have something that could bathe itself without them. Then again, it seems so far he's adamant about you not lifting a hoof for anything.

                                            >Not being able to prove yourself useful is giving you some anxiety. So far you're actually coming up negative there, giving him more work to do. What if he thinks you're more trouble than you're worth and he sends you back because you never got a chance to do something right?

                                            >The door proves an issue yet again, even with being able to stand up enough to attempt to open it. Your hoof grip on earth felt so much weaker than when you had been in Equestria. Something to do with the lack of native magic to the universe, you're sure. You know most unicorns could barely cast, assuming they were proven brainwashed enough to not cause issues with it. Otherwise they all had those implants installed at the base of their horn to block it entirely. Pegasi with unclipped wings couldn't fly nearly as fast either, and while you were a bit frail by earth pony standards, you used to at least be stronger than the average unicorn. Now you couldn't even lift more than half your weight!

                                            "Oh, I hadn't thought of the doorknobs being a problem. I'll have to see about doing something about that. You can go potty if you've got anything left and then I'll come in and help you get washed up."

                                            >At least the door issue might get fixed enough to prevent anything like this happening again, but literally everything else he just said made you clam up and simply give an obedient nod. He really is treating you like you were a quarter of your age and it felt like this entire situation was continuing further to that end. You had to find some way to prove you weren't a foal! How exactly does a pet prove capable independence or maturity though?

                                            >He enters right after having heard the flush, startling you slightly. He sidesteps you and moves to run the tap for a moment and monitor the temperature.

                                            "Just need to wait a moment before starting, the heater can be a little finicky. Seems about right now though, actually"

                                            >He simply grabs you and hoists you up, making you flail for a moment before you can calm enough to stay still. Thankfully he managed to avoid getting kicked or dropping you, but what was he thinking!

                                            "Oops, sorry about that. Guess I should have warned you before I lifted you! Just thought I'd help you over the edge of the tub."

                                            >He places you down and grabs a wash cloth, pitcher, and some sort of shampoo. The drain is open so the water won't be rinsing back onto you, which is especially good given you really don't want to end up soaking in your pee, no matter how diluted it ends up.

                                            "Ok, close your eyes and just relax. You'll be freshened up in no time!"

                                            >After he sees you've obeyed you feel water being poured over you and the wash being scrubbed into your coat. Dread builds up as he works his way towards your tail end, but you manage to stop cringing after he proves that the thorough scrubbing being given isn't drifting towards anything but the necessary cleaning. It still feels very off to have someone cleaning such an intimate spot, but you can at least tolerate this.

                                            >Before long it's over and you hear the tap shut off.

                                            "I'm gonna start toweling you off a bit now, and then I'll help you out and we can get the rest, ok?"

                                            >You go to voice your approval but you already are being rubbed down as much as your position allows. You brace yourself to be lifted again and once set down you decide it's safe to open your eyes as your underside is being dried. Strangeness aside, it wasn't an awful experience. You could almost pretend you were some sort of noble, getting pampered by an attendant. Well, if you ignore the fact that the person doing the scrubbing was trying to fix the fact that you smelled like pee.

                                            >"T-thank you for the help...Anon."

                                            "Aww, I think that's the first time you've called me by name! I'm happy to help though."

                                            >His choice of brush seems acceptable, made specifically for ponies rather than just a repurposed pet brush or a human comb. He seems to genuinely enjoy lavishing you with attention like this. A life like this couldn't be too bad, right? All you have to do is lay back and let it happen. Someone else can take care of all the work and you can reap all the reward. Isn't that practically the opposite of being a slave?

                                            >You just have to figure out how to stop caring about dignity, although to be fair that wasn't exactly easy to hold onto in any situation you would be finding yourself in. The chances of you ever being free were so low anyhow, would it really be so bad to just... give up and relax?

                                            >You're snapped back to attention by his voice.

                                            "So, I have someone coming over to put a few finishing touches on your new room, but I want to keep it a surprise so you'll have to stay in a different part of the house for a bit. He'll be bringing his pony too, so you'll have some company while you wait."

                                            >You gave a nod and received a pat on the head in return.


                                            >You are currently stuffed full of pancakes, something you haven't had in years. You may or may not have gotten syrup on your face during your enthusiasm and ended up with Anon chuckling and wiping your face clean.

                                            >You both are currently watching the news and you already are learning a lot more about Earth than you thought you ever would. Anything outside of practical skills for service weren't taught during pony education, given there isn't much demand for slaves with complex knowledge of the world around them. You could read and write, do reasonable amounts of math, but that was where anything "academic" ended. Etiquette, training for numerous job types, and how to market yourself for a chance at a better buyer all dominated the time that you would have needed for things like history, geography, or understanding the complexities of the world around you beyond doing what you're told.

                                            >No wonder Equestria lost the war. Even after only a short while you've heard about so many going on right now that you're sure humans have more practice than all the creatures on the other side of the portal, even combined!

                                            >The doorbell rings and Anon shuts off the television before the two of you make your way to the door.

                                            "Cog, good to see you! Thanks for coming over to help, I owe you one. This little lady is Blank Canvas. Canvas, this is Incognito."

                                            >"A Pleasure to meet you sir."

                                            "You picked one with good manners Anon, that's for sure. Remember when I first got Ruby and introduced you two?"

                                            >A groan sounds out from behind Incognito from a mare roughly your age, maybe a year or two older at most.

                                            "Please don't tell the story in front of the new filly, I'm begging you. Also, hello Mr.Anon."

                                            "Fine, we'll spare you the embarrassment, but only if you two play nice while we're busy. Canvas, this is Ruby Shine."

                                            >The mare is two tones of red and looks absolutely gorgeous. Pristine coat, silky and well brushed mane, great feathers preened perfectly into place. She clearly must be getting a similar lifestyle to you if she is able to clean up this much for a casual visit somewhere. She even has on clothes! It's a simple sundress, and maybe a bit childish to your tastes, but the fact that she can just wear something day to day is crazy to you. Even back in Equestria, any clothes you had were for special occasions.

                                            "Nice to meet you. Is it ok for us to go to the living room?"

                                            >Anon nods at her and she strolls toward the living room with seemingly no issue making herself at home. Anon gestures for you to follow her.

                                            "Go on, spend some time making a new friend. We'll let you know when you're allowed to come see, ok?"

                                            >You feel your face heat up as you enter the room and remember that the pads are simply laying out in the open. Ruby is already sitting when you get there, noticeably trying to avoid looking in that direction.

                                            "So, how have you been, getting settled here?"

                                            > "It's...weird, but a good weird, I guess? I've never had a proper master before, just the normal work they put you through until they can sell you."

                                            "It'll feel weird for a while, but eventually you get used to it. It took me a lot of time and a lot of me being a problem about everything before I realized just how comfortable life can be with this kind of set up. Even if sometimes there are a lot of things I'd still rather not do, it ends up worth tolerating because it's going to be better than taking a chance with somewhere else. I'm glad Incognito had enough patience to deal with me until I calmed down. Anon has always been nice enough, so how the next few days go is probably going to come down to you."

                                            >"You seem to know him pretty well, I'm guessing you and your master visit often?"

                                            "Not always here, sometimes they like to meet up at other places and I end up getting dragged along. Anon also is the designated "pet sitter" for whenever Incognito goes on a business trip that he can't bring me on."

                                            >"It's good to know I'll at least get to talk to another pony sometimes then."

                                            "Even if it's only me visiting here, you're not gonna go without friends. Anon has been looking forward to joining a group of owners that meets up regularly. He's going to want to show you off as much as he can, and everyone else brings their pony too.

                                            >"That actually sounds like it might be fun. I'm looking forward to it now!"

                                            "So anyways, how about I show you some good shows on the TV?"


                                            >You are Blank Canvas and have just said goodbye to a new friend.

                                            >She had been here a few hours but eventually it was time for her master to go home. Before she left she promised to see you again soon though, and oddly enough, wished you luck with your surprise? She wouldn't tell you anything about it during your time together, just telling you that she was sworn to secrecy and would get in trouble for telling you early.

                                            "Well, I'm certainly sore after putting together that furniture, but I think it turned out well. Are you ready to see your new room?"

                                            >"I AM quite curious, I have to admit."

                                            "I guess I should start explaining a little bit before I show you though, so you have a little context. You probably know that when people keep ponies as pets, there are different roles they expect to play out in their lives. Lots of folks want something more like an animal, a cute but exotic pet that can be trained easily. Some people want a companion to talk to, more like a room mate of sorts. A lot of people like to dress their ponies certain ways, or have them do certain activities with them."

                                            >"Oh, does this have to do with that group Ruby said you would be bringing me to? She wouldn't elaborate much on it, so I assume that's because it was part of the surprise?"

                                            "Exactly that! I just wanted you to understand the situation to give things a bit of context."

                                            >Pleasedon'tbeasexdungeonPleasedon'tbeasexdungeonPleasedon'tbeasexdungeon oh no please don't be a sex dungeon.

                                            >The door opens to what is very much NOT a sex dungeon. It isn't anything at all you had expected, and you open your mouth before your brain can catch up to you.

                                            > "A nursery? Waitwaitwait, you aren't going to try to breed me, right?"

                                            >Anon at least has the decency to look horrified at the idea.

                                            "Oh god no, nothing like that! It's for you, I plan on you being my precious little filly."

                                            >You find your morbid curiosity leading you in the room to examine things further and find that indeed, the furniture is large enough to comfortably fit a fully grown pony. Opposite of a crib is a floral themed mural (admittedly quite a pretty one). A colorful, round table that resembles the sort of thing a foal might use for arts and crafts or other kinds of play sits on a foam play mat made of interlocking puzzle shaped pieces. A high chair is near the door, but the haphazard placement suggests the position is temporary. A dresser is the most normal looking part of the room, and even it has rounded corners to foal-proof it. The thing that makes you cringe hardest though is the changing table, which is clearly very well stocked.

                                            >"You... You can't actually expect me to use this stuff, can you? I'm a grown mare, not a foal! I know I might not have many rights, but clearly anyone who sees any of this is going to know things aren't right. Where did you even get this furniture? Why not just get an actual foal if you want one this badly?!"

                                            "If you're done your little tantrum, I can explain it to you. It's not exactly common, but it's really not rare either. Most people even out in public won't look twice, I can tell you that much. As for why an adult pony? Foals grow up fast, and you ponies are still adorable little things even as adults, so why not just keep an adult pony as a foal for as long as we want? It comes with the bonus of being quite a bit easier than an actual foal too, since you have much better self-preservation and function well enough to not be helpless in the moments we can't be there right away."

                                            >"Why would someone enjoy this though? The entire point of doing all of this for a foal is just to get them to a point where you don't need to anymore. I've never once heard of someone enjoying having to do every little thing for someone else, especially to the point of, ugh, changing diapers. I'm really hoping those are just for appearances though, right?"

                                            >Anon sucks in air through his teeth and breaks eye contact.

                                            "Yeah, I knew this part would be the hardest to sell, but it's part of the package too. It really promotes dependence. A lot of people in the community agree that it's one of the best training tools you have to mold a pony back into a little filly."

                                            >You are attempting to process this new horrifying information when something from a moment ago hits you like a train.

                                            >"Wait, what did you mean by 'out in public'?!"

                                            "Well, maybe not for a few days at least. We'll take it day by day. Going by how much of a brat Ruby was for Cog, I want to wait and get you used to it enough to avoid any outbursts."

                                            >"Ruby was normal though! She wasn't some overgrown foal toddling around in diapers!"

                                            "She can still act normally if she needs to, you realize? She's still also a grown mare. The fact that she can be both is kind of the point. As for the diaper? You didn't see under her dress at any point, and she never excused herself to the restroom, did she?"

                                            >Great, now you have to deal with the knowledge that Ruby probably wet herself right in front of you at some point. How did she have any sort of confidence or self-esteem left?

                                            "This offer is the condition for staying here. You'll have everything you need and almost anything you could want. Love, care, and support. I can give you a lifestyle that involved you being more pampered than even many humans would imagine, but the catch is that I expect you to look and act cute, and let this all happen. You know, plenty of the mares end up liking it at least a little. I'd prefer you call me 'Daddy' but I'm not going to punish you for slip ups. I know all of this will be a big adjustment but I hope we won't have any major problems. You ARE going to cooperate, right? Or do I need to find a more obedient mare?"

                                            >Anon seems almost slightly nervous despite his authoritative tone. He's being very patient as you process all of this. He has to know what a big thing he's asking, but the fact that he is actually asking, rather than simply forcing you into it, is somehow making it that much worse.

                                            If you go through with this, you've let it happen. Sure, there's a lot of coercion, but the way he has phrased it, you're not entirely a prisoner here. You COULD roll the dice with whoever decides to buy you from him. He could even just send you back, given how soon it is. You'd have a mark on your record for that too though. This is horribly degrading, but there are still even worse options out there. You'd be safe, warm, well fed, and protected.

                                            >You already hate yourself for your decision and barely suppress a shudder.

                                            >"I'll be good...Daddy"

                                            "Such a good little filly, I'll make sure you don't regret it. Firstly, maybe this will help you relax a bit?"

                                            >A ribbon with a clip is secured to your collar. A colorful pacifier is attached to the other end. The nipple is quickly placed against your lips, so you suppose you're supposed to keep it in your mouth rather than it simply being an accessory. The feeling in your mouth is strange and you find yourself giving it a few sucks, purely to satisfy Anon of course. Absolutely no curiosity at the feeling at all, nope.

                                            >You almost lose the pacifier out of your mouth as you startle when picked up suddenly. You're brought over to the changing table and dread wells up in you. You know you can't fight this, but you certainly can't stand to look either. You cover your face with your hooves in a futile attempt to hide your shame from the universe. A whiff of a sweet scent wafts up to your nose, but the tickle it brings forces a small sneeze out of you. IT is brought between your hind legs, the bulk forcing them slightly apart. The snug grip around your sides seals your fate.

                                            >You feel yourself being scooped up yet again and placed back on your hooves. You have to adjust your stance slightly to accommodate for your new garment. A soft pat on your backside makes you jump slightly, as well as drop the pacifier.

                                            "Goodness girl, lighten up a little. You look like you've been sentenced to the gallows."

                                            >"Sorry, just getting used to it I suppose. It feels very different, to say the least. What now?"

                                            "We'll take it bit by bit, I think. I know this part is going to be one of the biggest adjustments, so bigger changes to everything can start up tomorrow. I'll get started with dinner. Don't fuss with your diaper either, I don't want you leaking because you tried to take it off to go potty or something."

                                            >You find yourself moving with an awkward waddle now. The diaper is reasonably thick when you compare it to the ones you remember from learning to care for human children, and seems to have similar style colorful designs.

                                            >You really aren't looking forward to finding out if they fade when wet.


                                            >You will NEVER admit that the diaper you're stuck in makes a somewhat comfortable cushion while sitting on this chair.

                                            >Dinner is macaroni and cheese, something you haven't had since back when you lived in Equestria. The only real complaint you had was the fact that your drink was in a sippy cup, but that was just another insult you were going to have to power through. Actually, does a sippy cup count as less dignified than a bowl, or better than one?

                                            >You find yourself having followed Anon into the living room and he pats the sofa, beckoning for you to hop onto it to sit.

                                            "So, I know a little bit about you from your file. That doesn't really tell me much of anything about you as a person though, just the marketable info. Why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself?"

                                            >"Well, what kind of things did you want to know?"

                                            "How about what your 'cutie mark' means? I know that's supposed to be a big deal for ponies, right?"

                                            >"Ah, given my assigned status I had assumed you would want to entirely skirt around anything related to a ponies maturity. My talent is related to art, you can probably tell. I prefer painting, although nearly any form of creating can be satisfying if you work at it. I got my mark the first time I finished a painting I was satisfied with. I was at about the same age as any other fillies that were getting their marks, maybe a little bit earlier? I'm sure I'm quite rusty though, I haven't gotten too many chances to practice anything in years, besides small doodles on spare paper."

                                            "Y'know, I could use some art to put up on these walls. How about this? If you're a good filly for me, I'll order you some proper supplies to work with. I promise it'll be better quality than the fin- well, hoof paints I guess, that I had been planning to get for you at some point."

                                            >"I would love that so much! Thank you Anon! I can't tell you how much it would mean to me to get to create again. I never thought I would get the chance to use my special talent ever again."

                                            >You catch yourself literally bouncing with excitement. Unfortunately the movement also bounces the contents of your bladder, bringing an unfortunate fact to mind. You're going to have to pee eventually. Soon, even. You can't help but squirm slightly and shuffle your back legs a bit to try to find a more comfortable position to sit.

                                            "It's going to happen eventually. If you just let go now, it'll save you a lot of discomfort."

                                            >You feel your face warm at the idea of intentionally wetting yourself.

                                            >"I'm trying to be good for you, but I don't think I can go that far. I just can't bring myself to do that."

                                            "Alright, but you have to learn how to let go on your own eventually. Holding it that long isn't good for you, and trying to stay potty trained is going to be more of a pain than it's worth."

                                            >"What do you mean by 'trying to stay potty trained'? I don't think that just..goes away? Even if I never get to see one again, I'll still know how it works and that I SHOULD be using one."

                                            "You'd be surprised. Some of the ponies in the group seem like they don't even think about the toilet anymore. If it's not an option, why bother worrying about it? They wear diapers long enough and they get tired of holding it for no reason. They let it become second nature. Get so used to it that the idea of not using diapers stops really coming to mind even if they still hate wearing them."

                                            >You are torn between horror and disbelief. The idea that you could eventually just forget about toilets unless you actively think about them is a scary prospect. That can't be real though, right? Anon has to be trying to spook you to break you down psychologically or something.


                                            >It's now half an hour later and Anon has started watching something on TV. You've been trying to watch it as well to distract yourself from your situation, but you just can't focus. Anon keeps looking over every time you shift or whimper. He's just sitting there waiting and making this a million times worse. Can't he just leave you to humiliate yourself in peace?

                                            >You should have left the room when you had the chance, but trying to get off the couch now would surely make you lose it right away in addition to drawing extra atten- Oh Sisters, you just let out a leak. It gets soaked up right away, but you know it happened. Another one, this time for a few seconds. It's really happening and there's nothing you can do about it. The pain in your bladder fades more and more as your body finally is done with waiting. You hate that the feeling of relief is so good right now. You don't WANT to feel good as this happens, it's disgusting! Warmth washes over your rear and the wetness fades quickly. The diaper is doing it's job at least, pulling in every drop until you can only barely feel some dampness.

                                            >You just wet yourself for the second time in 24 hours, and this time it was in a diaper. With someone right next to you. Anon sees you trembling and gently begins stroking you with one hand while the other gives the diaper a slight squeeze.

                                            "This brand really does hold up well. This thing is barely wet at all after that! You were such a good filly, very silly to try to hold it forever though. Did you at least learn a lesson about that?"

                                            >The petting is actually quite soothing, and you feel so disappointed in yourself. You know rationally you shouldn't be upset over your 'accident' since you weren't given any other option, but actually feeling comforted by the same person who forced you into the situation just adds another dose of self-loathing into your already burdened mind.


                                            >You are Anon, and you currently have a sad pony on your hands. She sat there squirming for that long instead of letting go, even though she knew there was no point. You'll have to work on that behavior, she won't settle in until she accepts her role. This is a perfect moment to bond with her though. Comforting her like this obviously will help, but the hidden benefit is getting her to start associating her accidents with positive attention.

                                            >You really do want to spoil her rotten, take care of her and cherish her, and the whole thing is adorable. You have a far less pure motive mixed in though, even if it's comparatively tame to plenty of others. There's some sort of sick satisfaction you get from the idea that you are the reason your little pony just wet herself. Watching her break down and flood that diaper was as satisfying to you as if she had used it properly. Little squirms and whimpers, a bit of panic mixed in with the understanding that there was no way she would get to avoid such a humiliating event.

                                            >It's ok to enjoy things like that though, you're still giving her the world practically. Hell, maybe some of the other pets will see how comfortable she gets to live and get jealous. If you ever did find a mare for sale that actually asked for this, Canvas would probably have a new sister by the end of the hour. A little competition for attention might be an incentive...

                                            >Nope, you need to stop fantasizing and start infantilizing!

                                            >"Now, I normally wouldn't waste a diaper with a change this soon, but I doubt you want to stay wet. It's your first day of this, and I did tell you we would ease into things a little bit. Prepare yourself for next time though, you won't get cleaned up until your diaper is a little more used."

                                            >You scoop her up before she can say anything. She's squirming and flinching less when you grab or touch her thankfully, so maybe she's getting used to the loss of personal space.

                                            >You make sure to put her pacifier in before you make your way to the changing table, then set her down before you gather up your supplies. You know you can count on her not to roll off. One more benefit of a grown up foal you suppose.

                                            >This coat would be a lot more of a problem if you had to make do with just regular baby wipes, but they actually have ones specifically for foals. You aren't one hundred percent sure how they work as well as they do, but you know better than to question useful things.

                                            >It's getting pretty close to her bed time, so you decide to go with one of the night diapers for her. Thinking about bed time though, you really should get her some sort of plushie to snuggle. You'll have to take her out shopping soon anyhow, you just can't wait to show her off.

                                            >You notice she has actually kept her pacifier in this entire time, although you weren't exactly expecting much conversation out of her during this. She probably doesn't want to spit it out in front of you either. You wouldn't punish her for doing it, but getting her into a habit of keeping it in is better.

                                            >Now finished, you end the change with a hug and a kiss on her forehead before helping her off the table. Time to get this little filly ready for bed!


                                            >You are Blank Canvas, and you are mortified. That seems to be your default state lately, however. New humiliating milestones you hadn't considered apparently exist. Being put into a diaper was bad. Wetting it was obviously an issue too. Something hit just awful though about your first change that started and ended with you in a diaper. That shift into "routine" is close to breaking you. At least it's over though. You're pretty sure this one is thicker than the last one though?

                                            "Alright, time to get into your jammies. I'll help you into them."

                                            >You become certain of your theory about the new diaper being thicker. Trying to tag after Anon is much more difficult with the added padding forcing your legs out further, your gait turning into an even slower and more pronounced waddle.

                                            "These should fit you pretty well since I made sure to ask about your measurements when everything was being sorted out and I was still ordering things. If they're too snug though, let me know."

                                            >The clothing he's referring to is a set of hoofie pajamas, dark blue with little stars and moons on them. Actually, in comparison to everything else, they really aren't terrible. Anypony leaning towards a "cute" appearance could probably get away with wearing something like this. The pajamas look fairly comfortable even, made of something fleecy in a moderate thickness. Just enough to keep warm without overheating on more temperate nights.

                                            >You could manage to get this on by yourself of course, but Anon guiding your hooves and pulling them up for you makes it easier considering your restricted mobility because of your underwear. The zipper is on the back though, so actually securing it on yourself would be an issue. Once it's on though, you can't make any complaints. It's exactly as comfy as it looks, and if it weren't for the obvious diaper bulge you wouldn't be opposed to the look of it when you glance into a mirror.

                                            "Does it feel okay?"

                                            >You go to speak, only to realize you still have the pacifier in your mouth. You spit it out as quickly as you can.

                                            >"It pains me to admit it, but they're quite nice actually."

                                            "Glad to hear it. Let's get your teeth brushed and we can finish getting you ready for bedtime. I doubt you're in the mood for a nighttime bottle tonight, so we can skip that for now."

                                            >One trip into the bathroom later, with the toilet's presence mocking you the entire time, and you're now being set inside the crib. The mattress is high quality, though any enjoyment you would get from that is spoiled by the plastic cover to protect it.

                                            >Anon raises the bars into place and locks them into place. Despite the "theme" being different, being locked in to sleep wasn't exactly a new concept to you. Honestly, it was more familiar than having open space and free reign to wander at night.

                                            "Sleep well, I'll see you in the morning. If you need anything, there's a baby monitor in the room for you."

                                            >He turns the lights off as he leaves. Little star stickers you hadn't noticed before light up the ceiling and a nightlight switches on. The room is peaceful, and despite the days events you manage to fall asleep.


                                            >You awaken some time during the night due to pressure in your bladder. Nothing near as urgent as last time, but even in your groggy state you realize this is going to cause complications. You were so committed to being defiant and holding it until you literally couldn't anymore to avoid feeling like you were just submitting to this fate entirely. If you want any meaningful amount of sleep though, that's not an option this time. With as often as dignity and practicality have been warring in your head though, you know which one is going to win in the end. You'll just have to take a deep breath and pretend it isn't happening.

                                            >It's surprisingly hard to wet yourself on purpose. As useless as your toilet training has felt the last 24 or so hours, it seems to be holding on strong right now. You try to relax, pretend you're on the toilet. Picture running water. Eventually a dribble makes its way out. The feeling of wrongness in your mind shocks you out of it though and forces you to start all over again. This time, you manage to keep going. A weak stream only lasts for a moment, but right after you manage to start releasing fully. Steady warmth grows around your rear, but the diaper sucks out any moisture right away. By the time you've finished, you're barely even damp. You just intentionally peed while in the middle of the bed, fully clothed. At least you feel like you can get back to sleep now.


                                            "Wakey Wakey! It's time to start the day little one!"

                                            >You're currently comfortable enough that you almost ignore Anon and roll over to go back to sleep, but even in your groggy state you know you can't get away with it.

                                            >You can hear the crib bars being lowered and before you realize it you're already being helped down to the ground.

                                            "Well, looks like your jammies are still dry, but let's check that diaper of yours."

                                            >The reminder of last night is not a welcome one. Anon removes your pajamas first, then gives a gentle squeeze to the diaper. The sudden feeling of being at least mildly violated wakes you up in a hurry, but before you can give any sort of indignant protest he is already done.

                                            "Just a tiny bit damp. It'd be a waste to change you now. I'll sort you out later when you need it done."

                                            >"Wait, you're just going to leave me in this!?"

                                            "Don't be dramatic, I doubt your coat is even wet right now with as well as these are supposed to wick up moisture. Come on, breakfast isn't going to eat itself."

                                            >You sigh. He's right, you can't feel even the slightest bit of wetness. The only notable difference is some swelling, and the knowledge that your undergarment is currently carrying around a bladder's worth of urine.

                                            >You toddle over to the kitchen and Anon follows after. He's bringing the high chair out into the kitchen finally it seems. How in the world did he even afford all of these specialty items? It looks like today's breakfast is going to be oatmeal.

                                            "There we go, now we can get you fed. Can't forget the bib though, don't want you making a mess out of your coat."

                                            >The feeding itself is slow and annoying. Anon alternates between eating some of his own breakfast and giving you spoonfuls of yours. You're fairly certain that he is missing some of them on purpose though to make you seem like a messy eater. Your attention is elsewhere though. Your abused bladder has skipped any normal urgency and gone directly to painful protesting. It must be strained and exhausted after so many accidents lately. Your pride just isn't worth enduring the pain any more at this point and you make the decision before your body makes it for you. You try to be as discreet as you can about it and Anon either doesn't notice or is being polite enough not to say anything right now. The warmth you've started to associate with the feeling of relief soaks across your diaper and leaves a slight squishy feeling to it but no liquid seems to be left behind. Just how much can these things hold?

                                            >You instinctively squirm away a bit as Anon starts to clean your face, but as soon as you realize what is happening you start cooperating. Probably to his slight disappointment, since he seems to want you to behave like a foal so much. Before letting you up he goes over to the fridge and removes a bottle full of what you can only assume is milk. Because of course he's going to make you drink from a bottle.

                                            "Alright little lady, let's get you over to somewhere I can hold you more comfortably and I'll give you your bottle."

                                            >After being helped down from the chair you are left with little choice but to follow after him until he sits on the couch and pats his lap expectantly.