Dream Voyeurism

The kitchen was not as detailed or fleshed out as the nursery and, besides a few key features, the scene was left rather blurry and unfocused. The cozy wooden countertops, the clean metal sink, the round kitchen table in the center of the room, all these were left in a perpetual state of foggy haze like an out of focus photograph. What was developed and built up on, however, was the large, yellow high chair sitting by the kitchen table.

This high chair was clearly a detail Macintosh’s subconscious didn’t want to miss. It was a sturdy looking thing made out of a heavy painted wood with red apples carved into its back and legs. It was well cared for and polished to a lovely shine with no scratches or scrapes along its surface. With such a pristine condition, it almost looked brand new despite its old world charm and traditional motif.

Big Macintosh was effortlessly deposited into the highchair’s wooden seat. The wooden tray that sat in front of him somehow managed to pinned his hooves to his sides, preventing any mealtime diaper rubs. But judging by the stallion’s happy giggles and squirms, this was all by design.

With speed only seen in dreams, Applejack gathered a number of jars of baby food and a spoon to serve it to Macintosh. The flavors didn’t matter, as made apparent by the fogginess of the labels and ever changing color of the food inside. The stallion wiggled in his seat with excitement as one by one the jars of brightly colored mush were fed to him.

It appeared that the finer details of being fed baby food was not something obsessed as much by the imaginative stallion. From Luna’s perspective, the action of Applejack opening the jars of food, scooping out the food out, and feeding it to Macintosh was more or less sped right through.

However Big Macintosh did make it a habit of drooping globs of food down his bib, practically turning it into a game of seeing how messy he could make himself. If it wasn’t for his size, he almost resembled a real foal with the amount of drool and food that dribbled out of his mouth. Underneath the food covered tray his cock continued to throb inside his diaper, but no matter how hard he tried, his pinned hooves couldn’t touch it. Again, however, as evident of the long, drawn out feeding session, this was all according to his dreamed up plan.

Once he was fed his fill, Applejack untied Macintosh's messy bib and cleaned his face up. With but a single wipe, Applejack managed to clean his face of brightly colored splotches of food, leaving behind an otherworldly clean face.

With breakfast over, Macintosh was carried off into the next room which appeared to be the living room. But whether or not it was a faithful reconstruction of their living room back in the waking world was open for debate.

The living room, much like the kitchen, was mostly left unfocused and under detailed. Its long, six pony couch was left unrefined and blurry. The shelves of, what could only be assumed were, family photos were difficult to see and the picture frames were left mostly blank because of it. The single object in the room that was to be focused on was a large, square shaped playpen that sat in the middle of the room.

The playpen had just enough care and attention put into it as the nursery upstairs. A white mesh wall lined its perimeter. A foam pad lined its floor as discarded toys and stuffed animals littered the area from previous playtimes. It was a safe place for foals, big and small, to play in without fear of wandering off or hurting themselves.

“Ah’ll leave ya here for a lil’ bit,” Applejack said, depositing Big Macintosh into the playpen, “but remember, git those diapers nice n’ full and we’ll play, alright?”

The stallion eagerly nodded. He felt a little groggy from the big meal, but he was certainly excited for their playtime. All he had to do was fill his diapers and they’d play. It was this simple thought that kept the sexually charged stallion thoroughly interested in this dreamtime storyline. And now that he was well fed, that goal was even more obtainable.

This was around the time Luna decided to call it quits. Whether the dream got more exciting or more entertaining after this point, the princess decided to cut her losses and move on.

Only before she could say her farewells, Luna’s attempt at leaving the dream was met with some resistance. The outer edges of the dreamscape would not surrender to Luna’s advances and only shimmered and bounced against her touch. For reasons she could not explain, she was trapped.

“The dreamscape has taken a liking to me it seems,” Luna muttered to herself, frustrated with this revelation.

Even after countless decades of dreamwalking, Princess Luna had much to learn about the dreamworld. Typically she was able to float through the barriers between dreams without issue, but every now and then something anomalous would happen. Sometimes a dream’s outer barriers would solidify, making escape for intruding dreamwalkers much more difficult. Usually that meant the host had to wake up before she could leave.

A fool’s plan would be to just cut a hole through the dreamscape with a magical swipe of her horn and escape that way. But such dream altering magics were dangerous, even for an experienced dreamwalker such as Luna. At best the dream would collapse on itself and Macintosh would suddenly wake up feeling exhausted. At worst Luna could find herself trapped in the dreamworld, forever entangled in the world between dreams, never to return to the waking world. Dream manipulation was a powerful display of magical energy and so much could go ary in an instant.

Stories of unicorn mages trying to control their dreams through unnatural means served as a grim reminder of the dangers of dream manipulation. They were stories that led to ponies being driven to madness or trapped forever in the dreamworld. Even with her countless years of dream walking experience, the dangers of altering dreams was still a very real thing for Luna. She had to be careful.

She instead focused on alternatives. Perhaps if she worked the dream from the inside, she’d be able to manipulate it enough to let her free. Perhaps if she just coaxed Macintosh to wake up, she’d be free of this strange dream.

But she’d have to blend in.

With a wave of her horn, Luna transformed herself into a plush toy version of herself. Her body was shrunk down and her fur coat was turned into a soft plush fabric. Such a form would allow her to blend into the childish themes of the dream so that she would not appear too shocking to the stallion. When the quick transformation was complete, she floated down into the scene and deposited herself among the piles of plushies that dotted the playpen.

“Macintosh, can you hear me?” Luna spoke up. Big Macintosh immediately raised his head at the voice, curiously looking around the room for the source. “Here!” Luna called out as she hopped out of the pile of toys, stumbling a bit as her plush feet took some getting use to.

“Woona!” Macintosh exclaimed with a happy clap, his voice muffled a bit by his pacifier.

“So you still recognize me. This is good,” Luna answered with a nod, “there’s no easy way to say this, but I appear to be trapped inside your dream. The easiest way to fix this is for you to wake up.”

“Wake up?” the stallion parroted with a confused tone. Had he been dreaming this whole time?

“Yes, this is all a dream,” the Luna plush answered back, “come now, you can’t really believe that your sister willingly diapers you and treats you like...” Her words began to trailed off when she realized her logic was falling on deaf ears. About midway through her explanation, the stallion started to space out and stare elsewhere. She decided to alter her approach, “look, you need to understand that I can’t leave until you wake up! Do you understand that?”

Only her words didn’t seem to have an effect on the stallion. Despite anything she said, Big Macintosh would just blankly into space, unfocused and with a haze in his eyes. In reality the stallion had long since tuned the toy alicorn out. He instead focused on a growing pressure deep in his belly. It was a pressure that he didn’t like one bit and wanted to get rid of it as soon as possible.

Acquiring a dopey and distant look in his eyes and with no regard of Princess Luna standing not two feet away from him, Big Macintosh began to squat. He hunched over the pony toy and bore down on his aching bowels. Luna watched in horror as a Macintosh’s diaper drooped heavily in the back, weighing down the garment not five inches away from her plushie face. The stallion grunted, more than willing to fill the diaper. The diaper crinkled and moved to accommodate a rather hefty load that was easily emptied into it.

Luna knew it was all a dream, but the magic of the dreamscape allowed the stench to manifest itself into an awful smell that hung over the room like a dense invisible haze. Whether it was real or not, the odor of Macintosh’s messy diaper could be smelt. She could feel her plushie nose stinging at the foul stink.

Once he was finished, Macintosh plopped to the ground. A very audible squish could be heard from his diaper as he so shamelessly squished it against the floor. “Woona!” He once again exclaimed, this time reaching over and grabbing the Luna plushie into a big, burly hug.

Although she had no lungs to be squeezed in such a tight vice of a hug, Luna could still somehow smell the terrible stench of Macintosh’s diaper. She felt herself turning green at the intoxicating and overpowering smell. The stallion’s grip was so tight and so strong she worried that the hug would last forever.

Thankfully the hug did not last forever and Macintosh eventually set her down before turning his attention to some fun looking toys nearby. Luna let out a sigh of relief as she watched him, and the lingering stench of his diaper, crawl away.

It was strange to see Macintosh from this perspective. Luna’s shrunk down size made the already husky stallion appear even bigger with an equally large diaper sagging between his legs. He seemed so comfortable to make a baby of himself, crawling from toy to toy and playing around with it to his heart's content. He babbled idly as he played, letting out random sounds that his happy body just felt like making. Clearly he was enjoying himself immensely.

Macintosh suddenly stopped among his playtime and turned his attention to his throbbing member which he remembered existed. Toys were tossed aside as he now focused on his penis that bulged out his rather used diaper. He prodded at the tenting bulge and then gave it a few rubs for good measure. The rubs and prods felt good, but he needed more.

With new found desire, Macintosh scanned the room for something to rub against. The Luna plush, thankfully, was too small for Macintosh’s needs and was easily looked over as he scoured the playpen for a suitable target. His eyes eventually landed on a pink pillow propped up against one of the playpen’s walls. Eyes locked onto the plush looking thing, he waddled straight for it and took hold of his prize.

He wedged the pillow between his legs and began grinding against it. His diaper squelched under his weight, shifting and crinkling between humps. The heavy filth that covered his backside squished around inside the diaper as he played, thoroughly making a mess of things.

“Macintosh!” Applejack’s voice rang over the naughty stallion, causing him to immediately freeze in his compromising position, “what did ah tell you!?” The mare stomped over to a wall of the playpen, scowling down at the diapered stallion as if he was a child cheating on his dinner.

Big Macintosh lowered his ears as he shamefully pulled away from the pillow he so feverishly rubbed against. With his diaper covered cock still aching, he guiltily waddled over to the mare, immediately ashamed of his inability to wait.

After a few minutes of just glaring at the stallion, Applejack’s angry expression softened as she sighed. “Oh well, ah guess it was mean of me ta keep you so pent up fer so long,” she ended up saying, “why don’t we play down here instead. It’ll be fun ta not have ta hide away in that stuffy nursery all day.” Macintosh nodded wildly, bouncing in his seat with excitement. He was certainly all for this idea and grew even more eager with each happy bounce. Applejack smiled at this willingness and smiled, “then ah’ll be right back.”

Applejack trotted upstairs, leaving Macintosh alone once more. In the meantime Macintosh behaved himself and waited for her to return. One scolding was enough to keep the stallion from touching his hard-on again. At least for a little while. He would have likely gone right back to the pillow if he had to wait too long.

Thankfully though he didn’t have to wait long thanks for the time skipping powers of dreams. In a matter of seconds, Applejack returned, slinking into the room wearing nothing but a purple strapon secured around her waist.

“Now who’s ready for some fun!” Applejack exclaimed, soliciting a series of happily bounces from the diapered stallion. Further enticed by the stallion’s eagerness, Applejack climbed into the playpen walls, her strap-on dangling off her body.