The door to Caramel’s room opened slowly, without much desire or purpose in the action. The owner of said room walked inside with his head hung low and his eyes to the ground, mutterings of ‘stupid, stupid’ leaving his lips every few moments. The door was kicked closed, still without much vigor, and the downtrodden pony walked over to the side of his bed and stood there, letting the sunlight pour in from the window near his mattress until he couldn’t take the spirited joy anymore and closed the curtain.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid...” Caramel said again as he brought his hoof to his mock-necklace, feeling the rubbery bulb of the pacifier he wore. The memories replayed over and over again. Shutting his eyes tighter did nothing to halt the images that flowed through.
It wasn’t as though the snickering was anything new. It always happened after some failed attempt to show what a stallion he was. Never terribly mocking, as the ponies of Ponyville were nothing if not sincerely sweet. It bothered him that they could so casually say he wasn’t a stallion, but it was something he had gotten used to more or less. Just something he had to cope with until he could blossom into a strong adult.
Today, however, was a huge step back.
Some snickering he could brush away as an expense of trying to carry a barrel of cider on his own while Big Macintosh was easily tossing them as if they were bouncy balls. It was too much for him, as it always was, and was smooshed under the weight. Big Mac had to save him, as the mightier stallion always did when Caramel worked himself into a pickle, and his latest failure was spread around. The next day there was laughter, that day being today. It was more intense, though. Shocked, now that Caramel could look at the situation with hindsight.
The horror of his mistake was not made clear until he reported to his boss for whatever duty she would dictate him to do, to which he would try to claim a more difficult task to show he was a strong stallion. That wasn’t what happened this time. Instead of jumping into their usual arguing, Applejack’s eyes widened and she grimaced. She was one of the few ponies who understood his plight, if only on a conceptual level and tried her best not to laugh or call him cute (although it sometimes slipped out in one of her honesty binges). So when she was shocked, Caramel knew something was wrong.
Applejack had asked why he was wearing that. What was that, he asked, to which she pointed at his neck. His hoof raised, as it was raised now, and clutched at the pacifier he wore around his neck with a colorful lanyard. Everything seemed to freeze for poor Caramel as his heart practically exploded in his chest, his face flushing with all the shame a pony could display. What could he say? How could anypony explain something like this?
Again, hindsight showed him there was a number of things he could have done. Say that it was a dare from somepony, tell her his doctor had prescribed it for some arbitrary reason, anything. Instead Caramel ran away, too far flustered and scared to come up with a word in his defence. It took all he had to not plop the pacifier into his mouth for a small relief in the laughter that seemed to grow louder and louder. Doing so would have just proven to them all what a weakling he was.
Now Caramel was safely in his room where he could ignore all that, or at least try to. Now he could suckle on his soother and pretend none of the outside world existed and could tell himself he didn’t need to be a stallion. So he did. The space he owned filled with the relaxing sound of thuckles to replace the pounding in his ears. His muscles unclenched and his tail swayed in time with his rythmic suckling.
It was a truth Caramel hated about himself when he wasn’t acting on it. As he lowered to grab the plastic package of Silly Filly brand diapers, the stallion in his head chastised the foal in him for possessing such objects. Once his hoof ran over the conflictingly soft and crinkly plastic backing of one of the enormous diapers, the stallion became muffled as the foal took over his mind and allowed a particularly loud and excited thuck resound. Now he wasn’t trying to be a stallion at all. Now, Caramel was a foal.
How does a stallion get started on a private lifestyle such as this? To this day, Caramel still wasn’t sure where or when it had happened. It started small, Caramel reasoned when feeling philosophical about the whole thing. Probably the sight of a foal being tended to here or passing by a general goods store with a sale on diapers there. Little things that added up until, before Caramel knew it, he had found himself a steady supply of adult foal diapers and was special ordering pacifiers. The label of ‘foal’ was now something he referred to himself as no matter how hard he tried to push it away.
It wasn’t exactly a confidence builder. Often times Caramel thought the lifestyle was harming him. No longer could he relax unless a soother was in his mouth, a diaper hugged his haunches, and his toy bunny was close to his chest. Outside of his room, where he tried his best to be a stallion, he was miserable. Always trying to live up to the standards ponies like Big Macintosh had. Strong, reliable, able to be a beacon of calm for those around him. As the diaper was laid flat while he carefully slipped his tail through the tailhole as he sat down on the padding and covered himself with rash cream and sweet-smelling foal powder, Caramel felt like none of those things. Instead he felt like all the labels he had been given. Weak, fragile, and cute by some of the nicer ponies. And despite how much he loathed these names, here they made him feel safe. Somewhere he knew it was wrong, but right at this moment it didn’t matter.
Caramel smiled around his pacifier as he pulled the front of the diaper up, seeing the horseshoes that dotted the landing zone. They looked just like his cutie mark, the three that dotted each of his flanks. It almost seemed like fate that he had found them, tucked away behind another pack he’d only barely noticed. The tapes were brought up and Caramel pretended somepony else was sealing him within the protective garment. Putting him there because he needed to be there. But nopony would ever do that and Caramel would just have to pretend with all his might.
Safely locked in his diaper, Caramel allowed himself to giggle. Not laugh, giggle. His legs squeezed together just to feel how impossible it was to bring his back hooves together in his current state. It felt like an eternity since he had last done this when it had only been a few hours ago he gotten himself changed and cleaned up for the job he was currently skipping. If only he had remembered to take off his lanyard...
Well, that wasn’t important right now. Nothing really was to a foal, after all. Caramel rolled left and right until he could stand up and opened the nightstand drawer where up kept his favorite toy. The bunny let out a squeak as he hugged it tight before sitting it up straight on the bed. The best part of this playacting for Caramel was when he toddled around his room whilst in his diapers. The waddle he was forced into was strangely exciting for reasons he could not put into words. Just being forced into the foalish walk pleased him. He wished he had more space to walk in that the little circle his room allowed, but it was enough for Caramel.
Knock, knock, knock, came the sound of sompony’s hoof rapping on his door.
Caramel froze after he turned his head back to stare towards the noise as if holding still might send whoever it was away. One of the complaints that could be had about living in a side house your bosses owned was there was a lack of privacy, for they could come in whenever they wanted. Except the apples were always decent enough to give Caramel his space most of the time. Why would one of them just come into the house and knock on his door?
Knock, knock, knock, came the noise again, a little harder and a little faster.
“Wh-Wh-Who is it?” Caramel squeaked out, hoping his suckles were quiet enough to be muffled by the door.
“It’s me,” came the deep and powerful voice of the only Apple family stallion to live on Sweet Apple Acres.
Caramel let out a whine and chewed on his pacifier’s bulb. Of all ponies, why was Big Macintosh here? Big Mac never laughed at him. Then again, Big Mac hardly said a word to anypony, as far as Caramel knew. Just smile, nod, and help.
Oh. Help. No doubt Big Mac thought he was weak too, that Caramel needing saving... just like he always did. He’d heard poor little Caramel ran away crying and was coming to take care of him. The fact that Big Mac saw him as a responsibility made Caramel’s insides seized up harder than they already were.
“Can we talk?” Big Mac asked, stoic as ever.
The diapered pony whined again, trying his best to come up with something to say. His best was not good enough. Maybe again in hindsight he’d see something he could do, but it sure seemed pretty hopeless right now. Was the door even locked? Caramel couldn’t remember turning the latch.
The doorknob turned and creaked and the hinges made a similar noise as the door was pushed open. Much clearer now, Big Macintosh said, “Caramel, I think it’s high time we have a talk.”
Whoa, was Big Mac using sentences longer than three words? That alone was enough to give Caramel pause if he wasn’t shocked still already. As it was, Caramel did nothing other than stand in place, on two legs as he had stopped mid-step, with his oversized diaper pointed right at the intruder.
For a long, long minute they both just stood where they were, Big Macintosh sizing up the situation with the same look he had when counting apples and Caramel with a trembling frown, red-faced, and eyes sparkling.
The silence was broken my Big Mac first as he smiled. “That diaper is huge. Hope it ain’t loaded.” His smile vanished as liquid began to build up on the corners of Caramel’s eyes and his breathing became ragged and choked. Humming in thought, Big Macintosh crossed the threshold into Caramel’s room and shut the door, demonstrating his wisdom by actually locking it behind him. Once that was done he trotted up to the trembling stallion’s bottom and gently rubbed the plastic outside. “Hey, now, no need to cry. Take some deep breaths and calm down, okay?”
Caramel was overwhelmed. Never had he thought what he would do if caught with his diaper up and pacifier in. It was the very reason today’s mishap had sent him spiraling, but this was a million times worse. The strongest stallion Caramel knew was seeing him in all his foalishness, touching the prominent padding just to see for himself that this weakness was a reality.
“Caramel,” Big Mac started, his voice dipping lower, gaining a jarring amount of emotion. “Suck on the soother. That’s what it’s for.”
Stunned into submission by the drastic change in Big Mac’s tone, Caramel did as he was told and suckled at his dummy so hard he was pressing the plastic ring into his lips enough to dig in. Big Mac wouldn’t have that, however, and stepped closer. The stallion was so, well, big that he could keep one hoof patting Caramel’s diaper and use the other hoof to nudge the pacifier to keep it from causing any harm. Carmel’s sobs slowed, the thuckle quieting as Caramel eased his jaw and Big Mac wiped the few tears away. As easily as picking up a newborn babe, the stallion lifted Caramel up and cradled him, pulling him close to his chest.
Caramel’s world spun, half from his jumbled thoughts and half from Big Mac carrying him to his bed and sitting them both down. Another hum escaped Big Mac as he pulled Caramel so his back pressed into the larger pony, the smaller one becoming almost encompassed by the other’s size as he rested his chin on Carmael’s head and patted the front of his diaper.
“Feeling better?” Big Mac asked, cleared his throat, and then asked, “Feeling a little better?”
Something about the addendum made Caramel’s heart slow down. Nodding, Caramel sniffled again. He felt a little better.
“Good.” The toy bunny was picked up and offered to Caramel. “And what’s this little guy’s name?”
“Mmm... nnmmm...” Caramel managed, shivering. What was going on?
Big Mac placed the toy in Caramel’s hooves, then wrapped that leg the smaller pony’s stomach. “It’d be kind of sad if I couldn’t refer to your friend by name. Can you please tell me?”
With a deep breath, Caramel said, “Snuffles,” except that his pacifier muffled his speech and what came out was, “Thuckle Shnuffwles...” His eyes shut tight and he flinched at the foalish babble.
“Snuffles. That’s a sweet name for a rabbit,” Big Mac said, squeezing Caramel tighter. “I bet he helps you calm down when you’re having a bad day.”
Caramel let out a tiny whine, hugging Snuffles tight as well.
Big Mac patted Caramel’s diaper before moving his hoof up to rub his stomach, playing with the waist of the garment. “And I bet your diapers make you feel safe, huh?”
“H-Huh? Thuckle.” Was this really happening?
“Caramel, are you calmed down now? Can you talk to me?”
The reply was a shake of Caramel’s head and another shiver. This did nothing to deter Big Mac, who just wrapped his hind legs around Caramel’s tush until he was sitting in Big Mac’s lap.
“That’s okay. You take all the time you need. I’ll stay right here until you’re ready.” A nuzzle was given to the top of Carmel’s head.
For a long time they simply stayed there with Caramel held in Big Mac’s strong hug, made to feel smaller than he normally felt. It did not feel bad, though. No... it felt wonderful. Warmth the likes of which Caramel never remembered feeling swelled in his chest as he smelled fresh apple pie, the scent of Big Macintosh. Everything felt correct. There was no better way to put it. And as Big Mac continued to sooth Caramel, rocking him, humming tuneless songs, it felt more and more correct.
“O-Otay...” Caramel said after a long, long while. His reward for speaking was another squeeze.
“Can you talk to me now?”
Nodding, Caramel leaned back into Big Mac as much as he could. “I f-fink I can.”
“Good. I guess we can see why you were wearing that pacifier earlier.” There was a tone Caramel did not recognize at all in Big Mac’s voice. It was close to somepony saying ‘of course’.
“Mmmm... thuckle.”
“No need to get all pouty,” Big Mac teased, tickling Caramel’s sides and getting a giggle for his trouble. “Now there’s a laugh I can believe. I should’ve known all along.”
“Aww awong?”
Big Mac’s leg wrapped completely around Caramel’s chest, once again simultaneously baffling and comforting Caramel with his size. “Should’ve known you were trying to hide. You’re always tryin’ too hard. Tryin’ to be like me. You were tryin’ to not be a foal.”
Caramel winced and kicked as a nervous bout of energy coursed through his body while he hugged Snuffles into his cheek. “I... I’m...”
“A foal.” Big Mac’s voice came out like a sigh, trying to egg a similar release of tension from Caramel. “You’ve got a soother like a foal, a diaper like a foal, and a toy like a foal. Go on, say it.”
“N... B-But... Big Macintosh...” Caramel’s breathing quickened again, but Big Mac hushed him before he could break into sobs.
“Stop pretending with me. You’re safe here.” Caramel’s diaper poofed sweet smelling powder when Big Mac gave it an extra powerful pat.
“I... thuckle... thuckle... I’m a foal...” A tension Caramel didn’t even realize he was holding released in his shoulders and he blinked a few times. “I’mma f-foal...”
Big Mac smiled into Caramel’s mane and nuzzled him with his whole body. “I bet that felt good, huh? My Pa always taught me how powerful words were, and ya gotta use ‘em carefully. When you speak, make sure it’s important.” Another tight hug, which Caramel was starting to realize was loving. “Right now, everything you say is important to me. You’re important.”
Gulping down his fear, Caramel turned his head to better snuggle with Big Mac. How was he supposed to take this? Was Big Mac okay with this? Did Big Mac... like Caramel like this? “H-How can you be otay wiff dis?”
“Because its you. Caramel, I know I don’t talk much. Guess it’s my fault you haven’t picked up on me liking you.” Big Macintosh closed his eyes and rubbed Caramel’s stomach in circles. “I can feel it in your muscles. You don’t need to be scared, I love you.”
Love. It was such a powerful word. A scary one. This was not a word Caramel had ever expected a pony like Big Macintosh to utter, let alone towards the weakling of a stallion. “I don’t undershtand. I’m... I’m notta stawwion...”
A hearty laugh escaped Big Mac, Caramel blushing and suckling harder. Although the rumble of Big Mac’s body was equally rhythmically comforting. “So that’s what it is. You’ve been trying to be a stallion.”
Caramel nodded, accidentally cuddling into the big red pony’s coat. Not that either seemed to mind.
“Take a good look at yourself, Carmel. You ain’t a stallion. You’re a foal.”
“Mmmm... thuckle,” Caramel whined. “B-But I...”
“No buts. Except yours when its padded up, snug and warm.” To emphasize his point, Big Mac patted Caramel’s diaper again, crinkles and rustles resounding from the action. “It feels nice to be a foal. You’re safe and loved.”
There was that word again. It seemed too good to be true. Nopony could love a giant foal like him... and here was the best stallion Carmel knew, proving him wrong. “I wanna be a shtawwion!” Caramel whined around his pacifier, sounding all-too-much like a foal who wasn’t getting dessert before dinner. “We’re shupposhed to be stwong and tough and somepony to wook up to!” He yipped as Big Macintosh pulled him back so Caramel was laying on the bigger pony’s belly, again feeling small as he realized it would be easy to use Big Mac as a bed.
“I’m glad that’s what you see when you look at me.” The new position allowed Big Macintosh to surround Caramel completely with his legs, the smell of foal powder mixing with Apple pie as puffs of powder blew out of the diaper’s leggings. “But that ain’t you. You’re a foal, not a stallion. And besides that, you aren’t supposed to be anything but you. Don’t go using words you don’t know how to use.”
“Thuckle,” went Caramel. “But ewewypony makesh fun of me...”
“I don’t think they do. I think you’re making fun of yourself.” Big Mac brushed his snout against Caramel’s ear. “And even if they did, so what? I like you when you’re you.”
The allure of foalhood called out to Caramel. Here he was being cuddled, coddled, hugged, soothed, and loved. Not just being told it was okay to be a foal, but that he was better as one. To always be relaxed and in this playful, innocent state... And to be cared for by Big Macintosh, somepony he’d always looked up to as a role model, seemed impossible. But here he was... was he saying he’d care for Caramel? His legs twitched with more that anticipation. The desire to wet himself was getting hard to ignore, diapers having that effect on him when he wore them. It made him feel safe, just as Big Mac was doing now.
“I dun wanna be weak...” Caramel mumbled, to which his bottom was given the weakest spank in existence, if it was meant to be a spank at all.
“Never said you were. You’re the strongest foal I’ve ever seen.”
“But I can’t ewn wift a shingle cider barrel...”
Big Mac chuckled, again rubbing the front of Caramel’s diaper. The diapered pony twitched and convulsed lightly, the action making the need to release stronger. “Pa taught me there’s all kinds of strong in the world. Strong fer helping others, strong fer doin’ the right thing. Remember that time ya helped Applebloom with her homework when nopony else could? Or how about that time you climbed a tree to get a ring some bird stole? I think yer plenty strong. You just don’t see it ‘cause you’re always comparing yourself to what you think a stallion is.”
Silence again ruled over the room with the only noises being some crinkles as Caramel squirmed and the suckles that refused to stop. Caramel still didn't quite believe it, but he was considering the idea that it didn't matter. “Y-You’re otay wiff me?”
Big Mac nodded against Caramel’s head. “I like you when you’re you. I love you when you’re all of you.”
“Will you... pway wiff me?”
“I’ll do better than that.” With a light kiss to the top of Caramel’s head, Big Mac again patted the massive diaper. “I know this is fast and we both like it slow. But I would do a lot more than play with you. I’ll do everything that a foal would need me to do. That you need me to do. I’ll feed you. I’ll change you. I’ll clean you. I’ll love you.”
Caramel’s heart rate quickened out of excited anticipation. “Dis can’t be real. Why would you do dis? Why would you wuv an adult foal?”
“Because I love you.” Another kiss was applied to the top of Caramel’s mane. “Ain’t any harder than that. Now are you gonna stop pretending to be a stallion and use your diaper? You’re acting pretty darn silly right now.”
Another whine escaped Caramel, face flushing from distress and embarrassment. But, backwards as it was, he liked this shame. It came with Big Macintosh telling him to let go and stop struggling. To stop pretending.
Every last bit of stress left Caramel’s body, save for the hug he still gave to Snuffles, as he allowed the silly notion of stallionhood leave his mind. His suckles became slow and steady while he melted into Big Macintosh’s grand hug. Big Mac smiled as Caramel let go.
“Such a good foal,” Big Mac said. “That’s what your diapers are for. Just let go.” Along with the light hiss that could be heard, a squish sounded as Big Mac once again patted Caramel’s diaper, which was becoming swollen, moist, and thicker still as the plastic seemed to tighten.
Caramel hummed around his soother and closed his eyes, a newfound tiredness washing over him. The stress of acting like a stallion had been more of a strain than he’d realized. “Mmmm... thuckle, fanks, Big Mac...” A yawn escaped him as he settled down into the warmth of his new caretaker’s body.
“You even yawn like a foal,” Big Mac said, settling down with Caramel. “Tonight the fireflies come out. Want to go see them? If you promise to be a good foal and keep your diapers on all night, Snuffles can come along too.”
“I’d wuv dat,” Caramel half mumbled as he drifted closer to sleep. “Nini, Big Mac...”
“Sleep tight, my Caramel Apple. Remember, you’re a foal. I love you for that.”
Caramel didn't forget, and never pretended to be a stallion again.
Author's Note
Just a bunch of silly, nonsensical fluff. Please enjoy this for the snuggles.
