Little Whooves

Whooves sighed. It had been over four hours since his transformation into a foal and yet nothing could be done. All he could do was accept his fate and try to will his way through until Twilight was capable of coming up with the solution.

As of now, Derpy had made her way back to Ponyville and walked into the market to buy some…”needed essentials”. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to tell Whooves that he was going to have to wear diapers and drink from bottles, no matter how much he protested. She internally shuddered at the thought of the tantrums he might put up.

Twilight did say that the longer Whooves remained a foal, the quicker he would accept his condition. If he remained a foal for over a period of a month, he would gradually slip away from the real world and mentally regress to the state of a real foal. If Derpy wasn’t careful, Whooves would occasionally emotionally regress and even begin to act like a foal for the next few weeks. Twilight reassured her that he wouldn’t be forever gone; it would only be temporary, unless his condition lasted for more than two months at the least.

Doctor Whooves sat inside the seat of the cart that Derpy pushed as she wheeled through the foal care section. Then she wheeled the cart further down the aisle and began filling the basket with baby food. Whooves groaned inwardly when he turned and saw the jars she had selected for him. Instead of getting the barely edible jars of chunky toddler-style food, she had elected to purchase food that was suitable for a toothless infant. Everything was of the "First Foods" variety, and had been pureed to a fine paste to make it easy for a pre-weaned infant to swallow.

She moved around the aisle and began putting other baby items in the cart: formula, baby wipes, shampoo, a large jar of nursery vaseline, foal powder, feeding spoons and bowls, wash cloths, waterproof lap pads, a teething ring, a rattle, a group of large plastic toy keys, and a pack of plastic feeding bottles.

“Derpy, honestly. Do we really need all of this stuff?” Doctor Whooves asked.

Derpy frowned, “Twilight said that—“

The former doctor interrupted her. “No offense to her Highness, but I don’t care what Twilight said! I am perfectly capable of making sure that I am competent enough to control my bladder and bowels, as well as eating regular food! We don’t need to waste bits on all of these items.” He grumbled.

“Aw come on Whooves. Foals can’t take care of themselves! I promise, I’ll take good care of you if you’ll let me!” Derpy pleaded, her wide crossed eyes sparkling.

Whooves saw her desperate expression and sighed, “Alright, if it means that much to you. Promise me you won’t go beyond the diapers and feedings, are we clear?”

Derpy heaved a sigh. “I promise.” Her ears drooped slightly. “It’s just that you’re so cute!”

“There will be no babying me and that’s final!” Said Whooves firmly.

“Okay…” Derpy whimpered. She then wheeled the cart to the cash register and paid with her bag full of bits. The mare at the register smiled when she saw the adorable brown pouting foal sitting in the baby seat, arms crossed defiantly over his chest.

“Oh, he’s so cute! What’s his name?” She crooned.

Derpy panicked. She hadn’t thought of this before. Grinning awkwardly, she put on a glib face and said in her smoothest voice possible, “Uh…his name is…B-Brownie! Yeah, Brownie!”

Whooves internally facehooved.

The mare chuckled as she rang up Derpy’s items, “Looks like little Brownie’s mommy wasn’t prepared for his arrival! She’s buying almost an entire nursery for him.”

Derpy giggled nervously, “Oh, uh, he’s not my son. He’s uh...my…my nephew! Yes, he’s my nephew. He’s staying with me for a while.”

The mare nodded understandingly, “Ohh, I see. Well, here you go!” She happily exclaimed, hoofing the groceries to Derpy. She smiled, “Oh, you might consider diapering Brownie. It’s not safe for foals to be without a diaper.”

“Don’t worry; I’ve got it all under control.” Derpy chuckled.

She placed the groceries into the cart and wheeled out of the market. Derpy then waved down a taxi and placed the groceries inside, settling Doctor Whooves on her lap. When the taxi began to move, Derpy laid Whooves on the seat next to her and pulled out the package of diapers. Whooves’ eyes widened in anticipation of what was to come and began to

squirm.

“No! Derpy, no! Don’t touch me! T-the diapers are not necessary! Please Derpy, don’t do this!” Whooves exclaimed, trying to crawl to the other side of the seat.

Derpy sighed. She was much bigger than him and she was perfectly capable of overpowering him. That being said, she picked him up by his tummy and pressed her free hoof onto his diminutive chest and easily forced him backwards to lie supine. The Pegasus quickly ripped open the package of diapers and removed one of the soft, crinkly, appalling pieces of cottony fabric from the packaging.

When Whooves locked eyes with the white, fluffy, thick garment, he whimpered in dread at the thought of those dreadful garments that would soon hug his abdomen. He sighed in utter defeat and lie helplessly on his back as Derpy took his ankles in one hand and lifted his legs to slip the plastic covered padding beneath his bottom.

Once the diaper was positioned, she let his legs down and effortlessly brushed away the tiny brown hoof which Doctor Whooves was still using to maintain the last shred of his adult dignity. Derpy pulled the diaper up between his legs with a tug so she could tape the sides, ignoring the protests of the infant who lay before her.

The diaper's strong fragrance of baby powder overwhelmed Whooves' hyperactive baby senses and threatened to make him swoon from sensory overload. His mind reeled from the powder's pleasant perfume that permeated his brain as she finished taping him securely into his diaper. Nothing else could have persuaded him of his transformation into infancy quite as convincingly as the sickeningly sweet miasma that arose from the disposable diaper to surrounded him with the odor of purity and innocence.

It seemed like an endless eternity until Derpy finally ended the process and encased the diaper, making sure the adhesive tabs were firmly in place. She looked into Whooves’ eyes and saw deep sadness and depression. To lighten his mood, she used the tip of her hoof to lightly brush against his protuberant tummy. Whooves wasn’t amused and looked on in disgust. A soft frown etched across his face as his bottom lip jutted out and he began to whimper.

Finally Whooves could take no more. His emotions had overloaded due to the stress of his sudden transformation into a foal and it was just too much for the poor colt to handle. When the storm of feelings reached its peak, the dam that had been building in Whooves’ eyes erupted and tears began to leak out of the borders of his eyes. Slowly but surely, the crystalline pity tears streamed down his cheeks in a relay race. Whooves’ whimpers escalated and he began to cry softly in anguish.

Derpy immediately noticed his distress and lifted the weeping foal into her hooves, gently patting his back to soothe him. The cross-eyed Pegasus never had much experience with foals before, so this was very foreign to her. But seeing her friend crying only made her generous heart sink and made her feel guilty for what she had done to him.

The former doctor buried his young head into the hollow of Derpy’s neck and he shivered as his weeping becoming increasingly louder. Despair filled him as his mind retreated to its darkest cave. Somewhere in the distance, Whooves could hear a baby bawling.

The rational part of his mind analyzed the sound and decided that the baby was frightened and angry. Whooves felt a wave of sympathetic pity for the baby who was crying its heart out. The baby's angry bawls had changed into a pitiful helpless wail that tugged at his heart strings. He wished that someone would help the little baby who was crying so desperately for attention to his needs.

Doctor Whooves froze when he heard Derpy’s voice say, “It’s okay, Doctor. Don’t be sad. I wish I had a muffin to make you feel better, because they always make me feel a lot better. But we don’t have any. I guess when we get home I can make you some nice warm milk that will make you feel alll better, okay?”

Whooves opened his eyes in shock and realized that he had been the source of the crying foal he had been hearing. He gasped to catch his breath and then began wailing again, this time in hopeless acknowledgement that he had returned to babyhood.

After a few minutes of wailing his frustration and sadness, Whooves’ breathing slowed and became abdominal rather than thoracic. His muscles relaxed and his eyes began to feel rather twitchy. Darkness consumed his vision and his breathing steadily became more passive, indicating a true state of sleep for a foal.