A shrill school bell rang overhead, shaking Mix-Up awake. A bead of drool on the tip of his muzzle dribbled onto the desk below as he pulled himself upright. A blurry scene of a classroom stung his drowsy eyes as he straightened up. He rubbed his eyes into focus and did his best not to stretch his hooves in the air out of instinct. He was never the biggest fan of mornings. Then again he was having trouble sleeping lately.

It didn’t help that Mrs. Hackney’s World History class was the first class of the day and was probably the most boring class any high school student could imagine. Her lectures were always long winded, she presented the material with a dry and monotone voice, and she gave out homework assignment after homework assignment with no end in sight. Staying awake enough to absorb any of the material she covered in such a class was a challenge all its own.

Still, he had to at least pretend to be interested. More importantly he had to look like he WASN'T fighting the urge to fall asleep. Mrs. Hackney loved to prey on students who weren’t paying attention. The moment it looked like you were distracted, she’d call you out and make you answer impossibly difficult questions in front of everyone else. The old bat seemed to revel in it.

Another yawn slipped out of his muzzle as he tried to shake the hazy fog that loomed over his head. He needed to focus! Another loud bell screamed in his ear, signaling to any student still in the hall that they were late for class. It was fortunate for him he had arrived early. Still he kind of wished he could have slept in this morning.

For a fleeting moment he wished for a lot of things. More sleep, no history class, maybe even a nice snack to tide over the morning. He wished he didn’t even have to worry about school and could just stay home. At least if he felt tired at home, he could just take a nap. Maybe even a nice bottle of milk to help him sleep. Mommy would always like to...

Like a light switch, an eye widening reality started to dawn on him. The fog on his mind immediately lifted like a memory ice bath. The dance lessons and the banquets, all those meals spent in a high chair and all those diaper changes. Nanny and mommy. All that wasn’t real. THIS was real!

Now everything was REALLY coming back to him. He wasn’t some heir to some richly estate. He had never been to a fancy banquet ball in his entire teenage life! He didn’t need to wear diapers. He was in high school! Yes, he was starting to remember it all now! The dream felt so real until he had finally woken up!

“Hey,” a sharp whisper pined for his attention, derailing his entire journey through self realization. To his left sat a familiar face, doing his best to stealthily grab the other pony’s attention. Good ol’...well he couldn’t quite remember his name right now, but the two of them were good friends! ”You still doing that haunted mansion thing Friday?”

“‘course,” Mix-Up whispered back without thinking. As he thought more about it, plans were conjured up in his mind about this upcoming Friday. He was so occupied with staying awake this morning that he hardly had time to think about such things, but once he started thinking about it more, there it was. His plan to...well he certainly had a plan to do something. That was for sure.

“Lotta the guys are saying you’re gonna chicken out and run off in the first hour.”

“I’m not chickening out,” Mix-Up replied, “you can tell them once I do it, they can look forward to-”

“Citrine!” the teacher called out from the front of the room.

Mix-Up snapped to attention and answered the shout with a panicked, “yes?!” Only seconds after responding, he struggled to understand why he even answered at all. His name wasn’t Citrine...right? It was...Mix-Up? Why didn’t that name sound right?

Mrs. Hackey stood at the head of the class with a snarling scowl, staring Mix-Up down from across the room. “Do we have a problem?” The old mare spoke with a sharp tone, raising her eyebrow at the unwelcomed interruption.

Now other students were starting to look back his way, looking forward to one of the teacher’s famous tongue lashings. Mix-Up felt like he was being singled out, marked as Mrs. Hackney's newest victim.

“N-no, ma’am,” Mix-Up stammered back.

“Then maybe you can tell the class who it was who invented the printing press.”

“O-of course!” Mix-Up replied, partially relieved. He was confident in knowing THAT. “A properly dressed gentlecolt!”

A loud silence fell over the room as the teacher paused. A few stifled laughs could be heard from distant corners of the classroom as her brow furrowed a puzzled furrow. “A...what?” she asked, caught rather off guard by such an unexpected answer.

Mix-Up felt the foundation of his confidence begin to shake as the teacher raised an eyebrow at her answer. He was sure that that answer was correct. He was so sure of it! He shrunk back a bit in his seat as he repeated his answer that he was so confident in seconds ago. “a...properly dressed gentlecolt...?”

Now the stifled laughs turned into giggles as the class was stirred by the exchange. Even Mrs. Hackney had to stifle a laugh as she cleared her throat and turned back toward him. “The printing press was invented by...a properly dressed gentlecolt?”

Mix-Up shrunk back even deeper into his seat as his ears drooped. Now he wasn’t too sure about his answer. Did he get it wrong?

“Alright, Citrine, maybe that one was a little hard for you,” Mrs. Hackney sighed, “what were the first words transmitted by the telegraph?”

“Mommy, I need a diapee change?” Mix-Up mumbled from his seat. He was less confident about that answer.

The answer agitated the rest of the class into an uproar. Now they were outwardly LAUGHING at the pegasus. That just made Mix-Up scowl. He was confident his answer was right this time.

“But I DO need a diaper change!” Mix-Up shouted at the class, “I do!”

“You need a diaper for that!” his friend next to him said.

Hearing this, Mix-Up looked down and found himself wearing a pair of blue jeans which was...normal for him to wear, right? A warmth was suddenly starting to fill his crotch, not soaking into the denim, but instead inflating it like a balloon. The warmth continued to inflate his pants before a gush of water began spraying out the pants’ waistline. The water then rushed out across his lap, pooling on his chair before pouring over and splashing loudly against the linoleum floor.

The water continued to pour off the chair, seemingly unending as the students seemed to surround poor Mix-Up with their laughter. Soon the torrents of splashing mixed with the laughter as both sounds rose in strength and volume. More water rushed by as laughter turned into high hysterics. Before long the two sounds swirled around Mix-Up, overpowering every other sense.

The world around the pegasus grew dark as his vision was overwhelmed. Touch and smell became mute and all that could be parsed was the laughter and the water.

The sounds grew even stronger until there was nothing else left.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦ ✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

Citrine woke up with a start. Seconds after waking, the ridiculous high-school scene evaporated in his mind and he returned to reality. Wooden bars surrounded him as the soft crinkle of his diaper reminded him of his comfort. The only thing left from it all was a fast beating heart and worried sweat on his brow.

He sat up to catch his breath and regain his bearings. His head felt like it was swimming. He was still in his crib, he was still in his diapers. He hugged his soft sheep plushie against his chest and took in deep breaths. It was just a dream...But it felt so real.

Or was this the dream? He was still trying to wake up, but this thought managed to break through the fog. Was he supposed to be sleeping in a crib and wearing diapers? All of that certainly felt right to him. It all felt comforting at least. Laying there in the dimly lit room, what little he could remember of that high school felt so strange to him. It felt so alien and so ill fitting. He wasn’t sure if he liked it, whatever it was.

“Good morning, little one,” the beaming smile of Madame Jewel appeared over him like the morning sun.

“G’morning, mommy,” he reflexively replied as he rubbed his eyes. A smile grew on his muzzle as he stretched his waking limbs in a mess of directions. He felt happy to see his mommy and above all else, THAT felt real. This surely wasn’t the dream. All that school nonsense must have all been some strange nightmare. The more he thought about it, the less such a situation made sense. Why would he go to school when he already had lessons with his nanny? But at least his mommy was here. He never had nightmares when she was around.

He propped himself up with shaky hooves and took a look around. Past the bars of his crib stretched a nursery. His nursery. There was the changing table - his changing table - along with his toys and closet and dresser. Everything was where it should be. Even his sailor suit he wore to the party gathered in a neat and folded pile on a chair - minus the pants - seemed to be in its proper place.

Then he remembered with a gasp. “The party!”

“The party was last night, little one,” Madame Jewel replied, “you were so tired from all that dancing that I hardly got you changed before you fell asleep.”

Changed. Dancing. The words hung over Citrine’s head like storm clouds as the brittled excitement melted off his little feathered wings. “Oh...”

“There’s no need to feel so glum, my dear,” Madame Jewel cooed, “accidents happen.” She gave the colt a reassuring pat on the head. “Besides, I have some fun games we can play today that’ll take your mind completely off of last night’s mishaps.”

Madame Jewel helped Citrine out of his crib and then helped him out of his night time diaper. The heavy diaper hung off his waist like a weighted reminder as his waking mind pieced together last night. It was supposed to be his chance to prove to mommy that he was a grown up and not a baby. In his mind he hoped that maybe he had finally earned his big boy pants. Afterall, he had been pining for big boy pants for...weeks? Or was it months? Years? However long, he had been doing his best to act like a proper gentlecolt, but last night ended all those hopes and dreams.

Still, it felt nice to be rid of that cold and clammy nighttime diaper. Once his mommy changed him out of it, the stale whiff of old urine was replaced by the fluffy scent of baby powder. He may not have graduated to gentlecolt status, but at least mommy was there to clean him up and get rid of that uncomfortable clinginess. He found comfort in that at the very least.

“I’ve already set the table for our first game,” Madame Jewel cooed as she helped him off the changing table, “we can play tea party!”

Off to the side of the room sat a squat round table with four stout chairs around it. The table was dressed in a bright pink table cloth that had a frilly fringe. Pearly white tea cups, plates, and placemats were set for four. In the center sat a round, pink hued tea pot accompanied with matching sugar bowl and creamer pitcher. To Citrine, it almost looked like an actual real tea party if it wasn’t for the plate of freshly baked cookies that sat next to the tea pot, which he honestly didn’t mind the addition. One of the seats was already occupied by a purple rabbit plushie that stared back at Citrine and Madame Jewel with glossy black eyes.

“Tea party?” Citrine repeated and mulled over the words. Did he like tea parties? Was that something he usually did? He wasn’t sure.

“And I’ve picked out just the most darling outfit for you to wear to our little party!” Madame Jewel chirped as she revealed the outfit.

It was a frilly dress with a low hemline, something that looked like a princess dress to Citrine. Primarily made up of pinks and whites, the well made dress had many layers of lightweight fabric making up its flowy bottom half while its upper half was form fitting with poofy sleeves. And it was just his size.

"B-but I usually don't..." Citrine's words trailed off as he momentarily lost track of what he was saying.

"Let's just pretend for today, sweetheart," Madame Jewel swooped in and said, "today we'll play princesses and tea parties! Just for a little bit, alright?" She smiled at the colt, a smile so lovely and glowing that after a while Citrine couldn’t help but reciprocate.

“Okay,” he replied with a bashful smile.

“Wonderful, then let’s get you ready!” his mommy replied, ushering him over to a nearby large mirror.

In the mirror stared back a beautiful mare dressed in a loose green day gown and a young colt in nothing but a diaper. Citrine blushed slightly at the sight of his reflection. Seeing himself in such an infantile state really drove home the fact that he wasn’t as grown up as he had hoped. Even his wings seemed small and frail these days, incapable of supporting his weight if he even knew how to fly. The more he looked at the weak feathered limbs, the more he hugged his sheep plushie to his chest for comfort. With a gentle squeeze of the soft toy, he felt less and less concerned with how not grown up he looked.

“What's your little friend’s name?” Madame Jewel asked as she eyed the stuffed animal that the colt had held idly against his chest this whole time.

Citrine looked down at the sheep plushie and only needed a second to answer. “Wooly,” he replied. For a moment he could have sworn he still needed to come up with a name for the toy, but now it all suddenly materialized in his mind as if it had always had a name.

Madame Jewel just smiled down at the colt. "Well then I’ll just put Wooly over here and he can join us when you’re all dressed, alright?" she gently pulled Wooly out of Citrine’s arms and carried it over to the tea table where he joined the purple rabbit.

“Mhmm,” was all Citrine replied with. That sounded nice. Wooly really liked tea parties.

Moments later he watched himself in the mirror as his mommy dressed him up. Piece by piece the outfit of pinks and whites were assembled around his body, cloaking his boyish frame with feminine fabrics and lace. His mommy took great strides ensuring everything was tied up neatly, every seam was straight, and every new part of the ensemble was delicately added.

“Absolutely adorable! You make such a good little girl,” Madame Jewel complimented, stepping forward to plant a kiss on the colt's forehead.

Guided by the hoof, Citrine was led back to the tea table where the plushies and plate of cookies waited. He carefully sat his poofy, princessly dressed behind at a vacant chair. His mommy, on the other hand, took her place opposite of him.

“Oh where are my manners,” Madame Jewel broke the silence with a chuckle, “allow me to introduce you to our guests! You’ve already met Sir Wooly, but this is Madame Bunbun Cottontail.” She gestured down to the little bunny plush, presenting the toy like she would any other noble. “Sir Wooly and Madame Bunbun Cottontail, this is Princess Citrine.”

Citrine blushed bashfully at this glowing introduction. He did feel rather proud to be introduced with such prestige. “H-hello, Madame Bunbun,” he shyly said, feeling kind of silly talking to a toy.

“She much prefers Madame Bunbun Cottontail,” Madame Jewel cooed.

“S-sorry...Hello...Madame Bunbun Cottontail,” Citrine replied.

“She would be honored if you had the first cookie, Princess Citrine,” his mommy went on.

Citrine happily obliged, eagerly snatching the first warm cookie from the pile and taking a big happy bite into its freshly baked deliciousness. In his haste he had almost forgotten something. “Th-thank you, Madame Bunbun Cottontail,” he nodded to the purple plushie who didn’t seem to mind that he spat a few crumbs her way.

“Very good,” Madame Jewel praised. As the colt enjoyed his treat, she turned to the tea pot and filled each cup with cold milk.

Obviously Citrine was expecting tea to be served at this tea party, but milk was a welcomed improvement and he oh so happily enjoyed gulping it down to wash the crumbs of his first cookie down. He munched down the first cookie in only a few bites and then - with his mommy’s permission of course - gleefully helped himself to another. It seemed that his mommy allowed him to have as many cookies and as much milk as he wanted so long as he engaged with the other guests at the tea party.

Despite his initial reservations, playing tea party with his mommy was an incredibly fun experience. He felt silly at first, having to pretend to sip milk like it was tea and talking to the seated stuffed animals like they were real, but as time went on that all seemed to evaporate. Not having the pressures of being a properly dressed gentlecolt had a relaxing effect on him. Conversation with the stuffed animals, no matter how one sided they might have been, was much more stimulating to the young colt.

He found that tea parties were easier when it came to etiquette and manners. Compared to last night's regal ball, the guests had less about them that you could get wrong. Stuffed animals didn’t seem to mind if he giggled too much or spilled milk on his dress. They didn’t give him any strange looks and he didn’t have to remember a seemingly endless list of procedures and rules of being a polite pony.

None of that mattered here. Just last night he had the pressures of being heir to the Jewel estate and had a whole family’s worth of expectations on his shoulders. Because of that he was rigorously trained to walk without slouching, taught how to dance to dozens of songs, and learned the difference between countless different types of silverware. All that knowledge and expectation took its toll on the young pony.

But none of that mattered around the tea table. All he had to do was enjoy himself.

Soon he found himself holding full fledged discussions with Sir Wooly and Madame Bunbun Cottontail and enthusiastically slurping the pretend tea like it was a fine vintage. He was starting to really enjoy himself. Good company, good cookies, plus mommy was playing with him. Things couldn’t’ve been better,

About half way through his fifth cookie, however, Citrine was suddenly overcome with a terrible cramp and his body suddenly focused on the strong urge to push out this building pressure that was starting to swell in his lower gut. It didn’t matter that he had the other tea party guests as a captivated audience, instinct had won the battle of wits. He hardly had time to even put down his cookie before hopping up to his feet and squatting.

It was over as quickly as it started. One moment he was refreshing Sir Wooly’s drink and the next he was soiling himself in front of the party guests. When he was finally able to pull himself up from the embarrassing squat of his, a heated weight now tickled his backside. A squishy, semi-firm lump that made him feel rather unprincessy.

He looked up to see his mommy staring back at him, their eyes locking for a moment as color drained from his face. This was bad! This was bad! Citrine knew that messy diapers were a very bad thing for him to do! He should have done something about it! He should have gone to the potty or told his mommy about it! ANYTHING but what he just did!

He was going to get punished for this. He just knew it. His nanny always told him colts his age shouldn’t mess themselves like he just did. Colts his age shouldn’t have accidents. Colts his age should use the potty. And he just knew his mommy was going to be just as strict. He just couldn’t predict what sort of punishment was deserving of such a terrible thing. No dessert for a week? Three hours in the corner? Five hundred spankings over the knee?! Terror slowly dawned on the pony as he started to dread what his mommy had to say.

“Oh dearie me,” Madame Jewel said to herself.

“I-I’m so sorry!” Citrine exclaimed, very nearly in tears. “I-it was an accident! I swear! I’m sorry!”

“Shh shh shh, calm down sweetie,” Madame Jewel consoled the colt, “it’s just a stinky diaper,”

Citrine was taken aback. ‘Just a stinky diaper’? Now that was certainly strange. He could recall a time when a stinky diaper was more than enough reason to get a spanking and sent to his room with no dessert. At the very least he was sure he was supposed to be scolded for such a thing.

But Madame Jewel didn’t seem all that upset with him. In fact, after the initial shock, she all but ignored his messy diaper and returned to sipping her little tea glass of milk like everything was all copacetic with the world. When he managed to overcome his dread and worry, Citrine did his best returning to the party as well.

It felt strange sitting back down and rejoining the festivities after his accident. He returned to his place at the table even as a sticky muck oozed against his backside underneath his dress. He could swear Sir Wooly and Madame Bunbun Cottontail could smell his messy diaper from their seats, but they never said anything about it. They were either too polite or weren’t all that concerned about it. And after a while, Citrine felt less concerned about it as well. Afterall it was just a stinky diaper.

It was tough to say how long they played. After Citrine’s accident, the party went along much like it did early that morning...or was it the afternoon... Either way, Citrine was allowed more cookies and more milk just like before, even if now he asked for such things with an earthy stench wafting out from under his dress. The cookies were still fresh and soft and the milk tasted just as good. Maybe even better knowing that he was indulging in such a treat while wearing a stinky diaper.

After a while, the cookies started to run out and the milk was running low. As he finished his last cookie, Citrine let out a yawn and was suddenly very tired. Even in the daze of his delightful sugar crash, he found this rather strange. It felt like he had just woken up. It was only late morning...or early afternoon...or maybe late afternoon, but he suddenly felt like he was in dire need of a nap. He let out another yawn.

“I think some little princess needs a diaper change before their nap,” Madame Jewel finally said, gracefully setting down her tea cup.

Citrine couldn’t help but agree. “But...I just woke up?” he mumbled between sleepy yawns. Even he didn’t feel all that confident in such a claim.

“Frequent naps are important for a growing colt,” his mommy assured him, "we can play some other time.”

With that, they once again returned to the changing table. Citrine was then meticulously undressed, leaving him once again in only a diaper. Now the stench of his messy diaper was undeniable and even made his nose instinctively curl at such a strong smell. Yet his mommy didn’t bat an eye. She didn’t gag or plug her nose, she just helped him out of his cute princess dress and onto the changing table like it was all so routine for the two of them.

The diaper change was just as routine. Once the young colt was guided down onto the table, his diaper was whisked away and the area was cleaned up before a fresh one was taped on. One moment he was wallowing in a mucky, smelly, plastic shelled garment and the next he was wrapped in a soft, fresh one that smelled of baby powder. Clearly it was something his mommy did quite regularly.

“Weather’s getting a little cold outside so I have one more little surprise for you,” Madame Jewel smiled as she unfolded a footed sleeper, revealing it to the colt with showy flare.

The sleeper was made of a soft gray fabric with little drawings of sheep scattered all over it. A metal zipper ran across its back while little snapping buttons lined the backside and inner thighs of the legs. It was an adorably infantile cross between a sleeper and a costume and even had cute little lamb ears stitched into its attached hood.

“You’ll stay nice and warm all snuggled up in this!” his mommy went on, opening the outfit up.

She took the lead in dressing the young colt up in the new outfit. Citrine meanwhile obediently complied as his mommy threaded his hooves into the soft confines of the new sleeper. The ambient cold around them - which he somehow didn’t notice until now - was quickly chased away as he was dressed. With one final pull of the outfit’s zipper, he soon found himself wrapped in the ever so soft fabric

He was now all set to go to sleep. He felt sleepy. He felt relaxed. He felt...safe. He felt like he never wanted to take the sleeper off ever. Already he was yawning more than he had in the past hour. He hadn’t realized just how tired he was apparently.

Taking his mother’s lead, the mare helped him off the table and back into the crib that felt just as warm and inviting as it was when he crawled out of it earlier that morning...or was it yesterday.

“Have sweet dreams, little one,” Madame Jewel cooed as she kissed the colt’s forehead and pulled the crib’s gate up into place.

“G’night,” Citrine tried his best to say, but was constantly caught off guard by groggy yawns and a sluggish mind. He wanted to say more than that. Maybe even play a little, but as he snuggled into the many layers of blankets that filled his crib, he felt more and more sleepy.

Tomorrow...or later today even...was a brand new day for the young colt. He would just have to try again tomorrow.

Author's Note

Betchya thought I forgot about this story, huh? For some reason I just had trouble getting this chapter finished and finalized. My muse just wouldn’t cooperate and I had to really force myself to get this chapter finished. After mulling over the notes I had for it and trying to add to it more and more every time I looked at it, I'm just happy to finally be done with it.

Look forward to maybe another chapter or two before I can call this story complete!