Sprout's Second Chance

Phyllis Cloverleaf was slowly roused from her peaceful slumber by the voice of her son coming through the baby monitor on her nightstand.

"Mommy... Pwease..." He whined, his voice slurred by the pacifier.

She tossed the comforter she was under aside, and got up, turning on her bedside light. She glanced at the clock, and saw that it was 1 am, still plenty of night to go.

If Sprout decided to wait until the middle of the night to complain because he assumed it would be too late for any severe spankings... Well, he was right, but she was certainly willing to wait until morning. She walked out of her bedroom and walked to the end of the hall, where her son's room was. She rotated the deadbolt, unlocking it, and entered the dim room, turning on the light.

There sat Sprout, squirming in his crib, and now shielding his eyes from the sudden increase in brightness.

"What is it, are you alright?" She asked him.

"Mommy, I haf ta go..." He whined, and she bit her lip in frustration. Apparently it still hadn't sunk in.

"Didn't I tell you what would happen if you got me up and it wasn't an emergency?" She sternly asked him.

"Pwease. It hurts..." Sprout whined, squirming some more.

Part of her wanted to shut off the light and go back to bed, and this time shut off the monitor, but then her more reasonable side started to get through.

Yes, she expected him to use his diapers for their intended purpose, but it was not fair of her to expect it to be an instant transition, and of course his body would object, sometimes painfully, until it learned that his diapers were a perfectly acceptable place to go.

With a tired sigh, she went over to the crib, and lowered the side bars.

"Get out, and come with me," she told him, stepping aside to give him room to get out of the crib. He hopped down onto the carpet. She walked out of the room, with him on her trail, waddling and diaper crinkling with each step. He followed her out into the hall, and to the first door on the left; the bathroom. As she turned the light on, he breathed a sigh of relief, figuring that this was going to be over before it began, but as he began to move for the toilet, she stopped him right in front of the sink.

"Stop right there, thank you. Spread your back legs, please," she told him. He did as he was told, starting to do a little dance. "Keep still, sugar cube. You're going to use those whether you want to or not, and I'm just going to give you a little help."

Phyllis turned on the sink faucet to barely a trickle, and as he heard it echo down in drain, his bladder sent even more alarm bells to his brain, as well as being in the bathroom. She noticed him starting to sweat.

"Hmm, perhaps a little something more is needed..." She said, reaching into the drawer and coming out with her mane brush. She turned it bristle side up, and ran it gently across the pits of his front legs, his worst ticklish spot when he was younger.

"Haaa, ha ha, pwease don't mommy..." He pleaded as he started to laugh pitifully.

"Now, the sooner your mind decides to let go, the sooner we can both get back to bed. Come on now, I'll do this for as long as it takes. Keep your legs spread or there will be consequences in the morning," Phyllis warned, continuing to tickle him.

The more he laughed, the more his breaths came into him in increasingly uncontrollable gasps, and then as the tears pooling up behind his eyelids spilled over, it was finally too much to bear, and he felt his bladder release.

"Ahh! Ah ha ha ha mommy stop! I'm going! I'm going!" He cried as he struggled to catch his breath.

She paused in her brush tickling, and indeed heard the faint hiss of urine coming from his diaper.

For Sprout, it was certainly a new sensation. He felt the warm wetness rapidly expand around his groin. But as soon as he was sure that it was going to overflow and dribble down his legs to the floor, it was wicked away into the absorbent layers of his diaper, which began to swell considerably. He sniffled as the stream continued unabated for twenty seconds, and when it finally died down, he let out a long exhale, forgetting that he had been holding his breath.

"Alright, just to be clear, you're not in trouble, sugar cube. You probably needed something like that for your first time. Good job," Phyllis praised as she shut off the bathroom sink. "We'll repeat this as needed until your body is used to using your diapers."

Figuring he didn't need to keep his legs spread any longer, he brought them back together, and couldn't bring them as close together as he could on the walk over here.

And he thought he was waddling a moment ago.

He turned to follow his mom as she ushered him out of the bathroom, and shut off the light, going back down to his room, where she took him back over to his crib.

"You're not going to change me first?" He asked through his pacifier, sniffling.

"I was going to wait until morning to cover more of the rules for you, but I suppose we can start that right now. Rule #1: You are not allowed to ask for diaper changes. Foals don't know when they need to be changed. I'll be checking you throughout the day, and sometimes night. You're soaked," Phyllis paused, poking his diaper and getting a squish in return. "And normally that would constitute a change, but you need to get used to staying in diapers for a bit after you use them. I'll change you first thing in the morning if you're well behaved. Now, back into bed."

With a soft groan of disappointment, Sprout climbed back into the crib, and his mom brought the bars up and clicked them shut.

"I know this is an adjustment, but you're making progress already. See you in the morning, sugar cube." She told him, returning to the door, shutting off the light, and closed it, returning the bedroom to the dim night-light illuminated state.

Wiping his eyes and sniffling again, Sprout got himself situated, and laid his head down on the pillow, eager to get the rest of the night over with as his stomach began rumbling again...