Scootaloo shot awake, her body sweaty and numb. Instinctively she tried flail her limbs, but found she couldn't move. Everything appeared dark and blurry, her senses dull and mildly distorted... wavy lines distorting her periphery. Where ever she was she could tell the walls were pink.

Coughing, the filly took in some air through her nose. The room smelled like, of all things... foal powder?

It was silent.

Slowly she scanned the area. Was she in Pinkie's room? It was about the same size, but... empty. Devoid of anything, really. She saw a window pane just above her head. It was either morning or dusk; the golden sun peeked in, barely illuminating the room. She couldn't see much beyond this, so she looked down at herself and couldn't believe what she saw:

She was in some type of hard plastic chair on a table, tilted slightly backwards, her limbs all stretched out. It was in the shape of a basket, yet formed to fit her body, with had a handle jutting from either side. She was locked in place by heavy bands... some type of industrial strength rubber, restricting each of her hooves and joints. She felt one around her chest and mid-section as well, thicker and tighter, yet she could barely move to see the later. It was then that Scootaloo began to feel nausea building up... mobility was so important to her, and she could not move even if there was a fire. Adding to her disorientation, the filly noticed she was wearing clothes. A bright red shirt and, squinting her still focusing eyes...

Diapers?

The orange filly tried to move her hips, only to hear the soft crinkling of what she suspected they were. Scootaloo had been put in disposable diapers while unconscious and they were indeed thick and white. She would have been mortified and ripping them apart if not restrained, but because she couldn't move much more than her neck, she was terrified beyond all words. She then noticed something equally disturbing, if not more so:

Her tail was rainbow-colored, her coat apparently cyan. She was looking down at a body she didn't even recognize as her own, never mind that it was starting to look like her idol's...

Scootaloo began to struggle in the restraints, her agitation quickly building as she realized, despite her best efforts, she was locked into place. The filly didn't care about what she looked like anymore, she wanted out.

"Help!" she cried. "SOMEPONY PLEASE HELP ME!"

As if by magic, a light turned on behind her and somepony came right away. It sounded almost as if they came from up above, down a set of thickly carpeted stairs behind Scootaloo. The pace was energetic, yet heavy, almost shaking Scootaloo's confines. The pony came to the front of bound filly, revealing who she was. Scootaloo had never seen this pegasus before:

An older mare... old to Scootaloo, that is. She would have also called her fat... but then again, she would have called Mrs. Cake and Torch Song fat. Plump at best. This mare looked happy, and she reminded Scootaloo of Rarity, Applejack, and Ms. Harshwhinny all at the same time. Her eyes were like nothing the filly had ever seen... Scootaloo was rendered momentarily silent by their calm and accepting, yet piercing gaze.

"Hi Honey!" the mare exclaimed with a smile. Her voice was lyrical. "How are you?"

"Wh- ... where am I? What's going on?" Scootaloo asked, her vision beginning to blur up. "I-... uh..."

The pegasus filly began to weep, not knowing what to make of any of this... severely perturbed by the mare's blue, emotionless eyes.

"It's okay, it's okay!" the mare said soothing tone, sticking out a hoof to tenderly to wipe Scootaloo's cheek. "You must've had a pretty bad dream, huh? Let me wipe the tears away!"

"What're you talking about...?" Scootaloo asked, snot streaming from her nose. Her words were nasal. "What's this about?"

The mare beeped her nose.

"You're my foal, silly." She rubbed Scootaloo's tummy. "And I'm here to take care of you! I'll never let anything bad happen to you ever again. Mommy promises!"

"I- I'm not a foal. I'm almost ten!"

The mare continued to smile.

"Oh, you're such a sweetie. I don't know what you're talking about!"

The tears began to form again, this time more forcefully... panic growing quickly behind them.

"My name's Scootaloo!" she exclaimed. "I'm nine years old..."

"Oh?"

"Y-yes. I go to Ponyville Elementary. And my f-friends are Applebloom and Sweetie Belle."

"That sounds like such a wonderful dream, Honey!" Again, the mare beeped her nose. "You're not old enough to go to school yet. Why you're not even toilet-trained!"

Scootaloo scowled:

"That's not true!" she growled. "I'm nine years old and I am, too, toilet-trained!"

The mare smiled warmly.

"Can you prove that, Honey?"

Before Scootaloo could answer (not that she had a quick answer for that) the mare reached to the side of her confines and picked up something small. It rattled softly.

"Open up! You're really gunna like this!"

"I'm not doing anything you tell me t- HEY!"

The mare had two hooves, Scootaloo had none. With her mouth forced open, Scootaloo had something round and rubbery placed inside...

"There, there..." The mare caressed her barrel, keeping the object securely in place. "Gently suck, Honey... It's good. You love your binky!"

Scootaloo's eyes went wide on the word binky. She knew what that meant from her time spent with Pinkie Pie helping babysit for the Cakes:

"There, there, Pumpkin! Pinkie's got your binky!"

Scootaloo was being forced to suck on a pacifier. She kept it where it was, unable to spit it out... but not sucking on it either.

"Listen carefully to mommy, sweetie," the mare almost whispered. "I'm Miss Buttercup Lightwood Gambroge... I'm your mommy. You're my precious little one-year old daughter, Honey. You have such an imagination! I know sometimes you think you're a big filly, but you're not. It's okay to play pretend... Mommy still loves you!"

Buttercup released the pacifier, which Scootaloo saw was on a string. It fell listlessly to the side as the filly stared helplessly up at her captor... shaking in the restraints:

"I'm Scootaloo...," she whimpered.

"No, you're Honey!" Buttercup replied, beeping her nose. "And you always will be my precious little foal."

"I'm Scootaloo!"

"You are so silly!" Buttercup's tone remained cheerful. "Okay... you think you're potty-trained, right?"

"I KNOW I AM!"

Buttercup let out a small giggle, covering her mouth as though she had hiccuped. When she removed her hoof, Scootaloo saw a thin smile on her lips. Her mouth moved in a mean way, as though she was angry, but her tone was still cheerful:

"Honey, if you're potty trained, then how come you need to be changed?"

Scootaloo stared silently up at the mare. Buttercup casually set one hoof on her chest, and.... with the simple flick of a switch, she released the bindings on Scootaloo's upper torso just slightly.

"See? Honey, look here!" She cranked Scootaloo's head just slightly so she could see the front of her diaper more clearly. "You're all wet!" Buttercup squished it in her hoof; Scootaloo felt the clammy sensation of cold urine, her pupils shrinking. "Woah! You must've had a lot to drink before nap time, huh?"

I... I uh..." Not knowing what to do or say, Scootaloo did what most any child would do under similar circumstances... powerless and humiliated. She broke down.

"Hey! Hey! It's okay! I'll get you a new diaper and everything will be fine."

Scootaloo continued to cry as Buttercup turned around. The filly's eyes were half-closed, dreading what she knew was coming next.

"There, there," Buttercup said, loosening the strap holding Scootaloo's midsection. "This'll be over with before you know it... nopony likes being in an icky wet diaper!"

Having had her restraints loosened, Scootaloo began to thrash about... she wanted out, and she was ready to fight for it if she had to. Again, Buttercup let out a small chuckle... it did no good. The bonds holding her hooves were still snugly in place -- the release was just so Buttercup could more easily lift her waist, something she would need to do to change her.

"I don't wear diapers!" Scootaloo protested.

"You're so silly!" In the blink of an eye, Buttercup picked up the pacifier and stuck firmly it in the filly's mouth. "You love your pacifier, and you're gunna stay in that icky, wet diaper until I feel you start sucking."

Scootaloo looked up at Buttercup, tears streaming down her face. There was nothing she could do. She couldn't move, she couldn't fight; she would have continued to bawl but she was too upset. She stared into Buttercup's seemingly compassionate gaze.

"It's okay," she said softly. "Relax, Honey... I've got you."

Scootaloo didn't even realize it yet, but she had started sucking on the rubber pacifier. She had nothing she could do, and at nine it was more instinctive than she would have ever wanted to admit. It was the only thing that could comfort her.

"That's my baby..." Buttercup smiled warmly. "You like your binky, huh? Makes you feel nice and happy! It's not so bad."

Scootaloo didn't answer. She was silent... withdrawn, suckling like a foal. Buttercup removed her hoof.

"There..." Buttercup placed a her hooves on Scootaloo's diaper and began untaping it.

Right away the pacifier fell from Scootaloo's mouth.

"No! No!" she cried, tears pouring down her cheeks. "Stop! Let me go!"

"Shhh...." Buttercup picked up the pacifier again, and tenderly placed it in Scootaloo's mouth... holding it there for a few solid minutes, until the tears stopped and she started sucking again. "There, there.... That's my baby." She giggled, releasing the next set of tapes. "Now raise your bottom please, pretty girl."

Scootaloo did as she was told, continuing to suck, as the wet diaper was pulled away. She didn't know what to do, and doing it made her feel less anxious.

Buttercup balled it up and came back with a baby wipe. Once Scootaloo saw it her eyes went wide... when she felt it, however, the pacifier fell again.

"Stop! Get away from me!"

"Shhh...." Again, Buttercup picked up the pacifier and placed it into Scootaloo's mouth. "I'm not hurting you! I'm a good mommy... I'd never touch my foal inappropriately." She started wiping Scootaloo clean again. She wiggled a bit, but with Buttercup holding the pacifier in her mouth there wasn't much she could do. She started to suck again, her eyes returning to relaxed little slits. "There... all clean!"

Scootaloo continued to suck while Buttercup got the new diaper out.

"Now raise your bottom, Honey."

Scootaloo laid there, whimpering. She was snapped back to reality as she saw the mare above tower her, warm eyes... holding open an opened youth-sized diaper, ready to wrap it around her nine year old backside.

"If I don't put this diaper on you, you'll get poo-poo and pee-pee in your seat! That's not going to feel very nice or be very clean."

"I'm potty-trained," Scootaloo mumbled through the pacifier.

"No, you're not."

"I'm potty-trained!" Scootaloo cried through the pacifier. "I don't need to wear diapers! Let me go!"

Again, Buttercup placed her hoof against the filly's mouth just in time for her to throw a fit. She cried and thrashed in the seat, saying bad words which Buttercup thankfully couldn't make out (if she had, Scootaloo would have likely been spanked until her orange rump turned red). Buttercup was a patient mare and after just five minutes, Scootaloo was red in the face and completely worn out... again, there was nothing she could do.

"Feel better?" Buttercup asked, with a cruel smile. "Now just raise your bottom, sweetie... we'll talk more once you've been changed."

Defeated, Scootaloo raised her backside. Buttercup slipped the new disposable diaper under her and fastened it up in a matter of seconds. Scootaloo was diapered.

"There... All done!"

Buttercup beeped the Scootaloo's nose, pulling the pacifier from her mouth with a pop. As promised, they were going to have a talk:

"Now, tell me Honey... what color is Scootaloo?"

"Orange," the filly replied. "With a purple mane."

"And what's your favorite color?"

Scootaloo hesitated.

"Um... orange?"

"And mine's purple!" She beeped Scootaloo's nose again. "This sounds like a wonderful dream! I bet Scootaloo had a really neat purple mane, too, huh?"

"Yes! Uh, no... uh, it wasn't a dream! My mane is purple and neat."

"Yes, it was a dream, Honey! Now, tell me... this is very important: who are Scootaloo's mommy and daddy?"

Scootaloo looked up at Buttercup with a blank expression. The mare repeated herself:

"Honey, please tell me... who exactly are Scootaloo's mommy and daddy?"

Tears began to pour as Scootaloo seemed almost to smile at the question.

"I- .... I... I don't have any!" she cried. "The t-town of Ponyville watches me!"

As Scootaloo let out a near silent cry, Buttercup had something to say:

"This is just adorable!" She stuck the pacifier back in Scootaloo's open mouth. "Ponyville's a bigger town than you realize, sweetie. I know it's scary to think you don't have a mommy... no pony there to take care for you, and love you no matter what. It sounds terrible! I can't imagine a life for you like that... that's why you have me. I'll be here always to keep you warm and safe and clean, and you'll never, ever have to worry about anything ever again as long as I'm around. You're safe now."

Scootaloo couldn't respond to that. She was, for lack of a better word, in a state of shock.

"I'm... I..."

"Shhh..." Buttercup held object in her mouth. "Just suck on your binky, Honey. You'll be happy here. Always."

The pacifier was released and Scootaloo kept a tight grip on it, sucking. Buttercup then reached for a book just out of Scootaloo's field of vision:

Daring Do and the Quest for the Sapphire Stone.

Scootaloo could read it... she could read the title! She wasn't some foal in a nursery, she was really what she was saying she was.

Buttercup anticipated this, however, and held the pacifier in place.

"I know you get excited when your favorite book comes out," she said. "But spitting and yelling is NEVER, EVER okay. Keep enjoying your binky and I'll read some to you."

It took a moment. Buttercup stared calmly at her captive filly until the fire died down in her eyes and the sucking resumed again... it was almost rhythmic.

"Good girl."

The mare began, clearing her throat:

"As Daring Do..."

The reading finally stopped. The only good thing to come out of Buttercup was how well she could act while reading, and it did help lull Scootaloo's tired mind. He voice was like a velvet blanket and Scootaloo was relaxed, slowly sucking on the binky... but part of her wanted to throw up. The book was put away. Buttercup had jostled her just slightly while reading and she could now barely see the large changing table that housed all the supplies.

Out came a bottle and a couple jars... baby food with a small plastic spoon.

"No...," Scootaloo said, weakly, the pacifier falling from her mouth. "I don't wanna eat that." The mare just stared at her. "I... I- I'm not hungry."

"Now I know you like applesauce," Buttercup said, warmly. "So if you're a good girl and eat all of your vegetables, I'll give you some for desert!"

Scootaloo stared as Buttercup opened a jar of what looked like mashed peas and got the spoon.

"Now open up! This is good food!"

Scootaloo didn't do as she was told.

"Open up, Honey," Buttercup said, with a mean smile. "Or I'll just have to pry your mouth again!"

Slowly, Scootaloo opened her mouth... her face contorted, dreading the taste of whatever was coming.

"That's my girl!" The spoon clicked and clacked in the jar as Buttercup stirred the contents, then made way for Scootaloo's mouth.

The filly tasted the mush. It turned her stomach even more sour than it already was.

"I hate spinach!" she exclaimed, trying to spit it out.

"Do that again, and you get no desert!" Buttercup replied coldly, preparing another spoonful.

Face-to-face with another helping of green mush, Scootaloo swallowed her pride... looking up into Buttercup's glass-like eyes, she slowly opened her mouth. Anything to keep the old mare from staring at her like that.

"That's my baby!" Buttercup shoveled another spoonful in. "Now swallow!"

Scootaloo swallowed, then opened up... only to repeat the same pattern over again.

After about twenty spoonfuls later, the green mush was gone, replaced by yellow, then orange mush.

"Gah! I hate sweet potato!" Scootaloo cried on the third jar.

She still ate it... slowly and deliberately, as Buttercup fed it to her with a cruel smile. Scootaloo's eyes were glazed over, too tired to cry anymore.

Finally, Buttercup opened a container of red mush, which wasn't bad (it was beets), and once that was gone... out came a tiny container of applesauce.

Your favorite, just like I promised!"

What really perplexed the filly was she really did like applesauce. It was pretty close to her favorite. How did Buttercup know this? Was it a lucky guess?

Again, Scootaloo opened her mouth. The spoonfuls seemed heftier, but she hardly tasted it... the apples were gone much too fast, leaving just the bottle... along with an unsatisfied, scared little filly.

The little pegasus shook her head once the she saw the rubber nipple coming her way -- too exhausted, too overloaded to carry on anymore:

"No..."

She clamped her lips tightly shut.

"It's either bottled formula," Buttercup began, with a slight smile, "or you can have some milk straight from Mommy. Your choice, sweetie."

Buttercup set down the bottle and began to turn around, still making eye contact with Scootaloo... the mare pressed against her stomach with a hoof. Out of the corner of her eye, Scootaloo could see that she had unusually large breasts and was in fact squeezing one of her teats... a small amount of white fluid dripping from it. Scootaloo opened right up:

"Please, no! Don't do that!" she cried. "I'll drink the bottle... I promise."

With a satisfied grin, Buttercup spun back around and picked up the bottle. She had won.

"Good girl."

Shutting her eyes and wincing, Scootaloo felt the rubber nipple being placed tenderly by her lips. She formed a tight seal around it and began to suck on the bottle... no instruction needed, she just wanted to get this over with. The formula hit her tongue only a few drops at a time and was room temperature... it reminded her of vanilla. She opened her eyes long enough to see Buttercup sitting on the table beside her.

Scootaloo's mind went far away... after tasting the vanilla, all she could think about was Sugarcube Corner. Smells, tastes, colors... Pinkie and the Cakes welcoming her in and occasionally giving her and her friends an extra free sample if they looked especially satisfied after a day of Crusading in the fields. It didn't seem she would ever see any of that again... Buttercup didn't care about it. Scootaloo realized Buttercup didn't care about her. Her mind was now a blank.

The filly cried softly, scowling as she emptied the bottle. It took a number of minutes, during which time Buttercup snuggled up to her, throwing a lightweight blanket over her front so all that could be seen was the tip of her prism-colored tail peeking out from the bottom (not that Scootaloo could see with her eyes closed). Scootaloo's eyes were growing moist again... Buttercup cleaned them tenderly, and then massaged her now prism-colored scalp.

"Mommy loves you, Honey."

In response, tears ran down Scootaloo's cheeks.

After the bottle was finished, Buttercup snuggled Scootaloo for a few more minutes. She was content to have found the perfect foal... a bit larger, granted, but she'd have no trouble overpowering this one if she got loose. The filly had the nipple replaced with her binky, then Buttercup gave her a kiss on the forehead before finally getting up.

"Where are you going?" Scootaloo blurted out, surprising even herself.

"Mommy has to go do grown-up things, sweetie," Buttercup replied. "I have a big business to run! It's really boring, but it makes it so I can keep you safe and sound. I'll be back soon to check-up on you and make sure you're happy and clean!"

The pacifier fell to the side, making a clicking sound.

"Hey, don't leave me!" Scootaloo cried. "I don't like it here."

"I'm sorry, sweetie. It's just for right now. I'll be back for you... I promise." Buttercup picked up the pacifier and stuck it right in Scootaloo's mouth. "I'm not going to be here to pick this up again... you love your binky, and I don't want to have it fall or you'll be sad."

"But I-"

"Shh.... I'll send Mister Ironhoof down before I come back just to make sure you're okay. He may look mean, but he's very gentle... he's always been so nice to me, and he's going to be just as nice to you. I promise!"

Scootaloo looked sad. She didn't cry this time... just looked sad.

"I'll leave the lights on so you don't get scared." Buttercup slowly got up and walked out of Scootaloo's field of vision. "It's almost night time, sweetie... I'll be back before bedtime."

She then quickly trotted back up the stairs, shutting the door at the top.

Once alone, Scootaloo froze.... she couldn't even begin to process any of this, and that's what scared her the most. She had literally been regressed, one of her biggest fears was having everything taken away from her, since she was already missing out by being unable to fly. She could talk now, yes, but it didn't seem to do her any good. She couldn't move. The filly began to sweat underneath the lightweight blanket. The pacifier remained mid-suck for about half a minute, before she finally let it drop. It was then she began to weep, staring at her prism-colored tail. A million thoughts raced through her mind:

All the while she struggled vainly in the restraints.

Scootaloo gave up struggling after a while. Physically she was not uncomfortable just sitting there, allowing this to happen... but fighting it? That actually hurt. The rubber was hard, disturbingly inflexible. It was not comforting at all to squirm for more than a few minutes.

She had no reference for time. That wouldn't normally have bothered her, but laying there.... all alone for what felt like hours, she needed something to gauge... something to watch over. Passing time could have been equal to minutes, it could have been hours. Her mind raced as did her heart... her breathing picked up again. Sickness boiled in her gut. It was uncomfortable to not find comfort in anything other than stillness. She needed to move! It seemed the only way to stop this was to listen to Buttercup, let her touch her... or at least not be afraid when she came close. That seemed... almost not uncomforting. Realizing she was thinking like this made Scootaloo feel even sicker.

Nature started calling after hour two crawled by... not that Scootaloo would have known the time. Being a pegasus, they're known for needing to use the bathroom more than other ponies... flight takes more energy, afterall. Her bladder and bowels were primed for release. She knew holding it was futile, but still she tried.. holding on as along as she could. After about forty-five minutes of really having to go, in this awkward yet comforting position, Scootaloo openly acknowledged her efforts were in vain:

"I can't hold it anymore," she said quietly, her voice the only thing breaking the silence.

Biting her lip, the filly turned crimson... allowing her bladder and bowels to release. Even Rainbow dash had once admitted when her wing was pinned under that bolder when she was culling out a pet... she'd peed under herself before Tank finally picked her up.

"It happens," Dash said.

Scootaloo really didn't have a choice in the matter. Everything seemed very scary... this was one way to make her surroundings seem less intense. It felt natural and right, one less thing to think about. Shuttering, she felt the warm presence spread around and the more solid one slide up and fill the back of her diaper. It didn't take long for the filly to begin smelling like an outhouse... an outhouse seasoned with foal powder. She cried quietly, utterly humiliated despite having nopony around to witness her shame.

After that, she sat there. After a short amount of time passed the smell didn't bother her as much, and the wet sensation had been entirely absorbed. She ended up sitting there for half an hour, literally stewing in her own juices, before she heard the upstairs door open.

A pony with light hooves crept slowly down the stairs. She could tell, from the faint breathing, it was a stallion.

"I'm here to check on you," the pony said, walking into view. He was gray and large, wearing formal attire. "I don't think I need to tell you, you smell strongly of horse apples." Scootaloo just stared at him. He approached slowly, taking hold of the pacifier and tenderly placing it back in her mouth. "There." He released it and she let it fall again. The stallion smirked. "This is the one night I'm going to answer your questions. I know who you are, but you don't know who I am. I'm Ironhoof."

"She told me," the filly answered, weakly.

"I see. Do you have any questions for me, Scootaloo? Perhaps 'why am I here' or 'why are you doing this to me?' I've heard it all before, you see, and I can answer those questions pretty easily."

Scootaloo just stared up at him. Ironhoof sighed.

"You're here, Scootaloo, because your idol Rainbow Dash stood up my mistress... you know her a 'mommy.'"

"Huh?"

"They were supposed to get together, do grown-up things, and now... she wants to hurt Rainbow Dash." Ironhoof smirked. "She had me take you away. You're her foal now. We thought about killing you and sending pictures to Rainbow Dash, but the mistress saw a possibility... so I colored you to look like her foal, like Miss Dash. Buttercup will take care of you now, and you will never, ever have to worry about the things that destroy young ponies. You'll always be one-year old here. In many ways your being here is a blessing to you. You'll never know anymore pain than you know tonight and the hurt you feel now with eventually fade away."

"I- I wanna go home, and be with Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie, and Sweetie Belle, and-"

"You are home, Scootaloo. You don't need them anymore. You have me and Buttercup to keep you company.. keep you clean and happy. I even have special medicine I'll give you every once and a while to make all your bad thoughts go away."

"Please let me go home."

Ironhoof remained unphased. The filly looked up at him, dark rings around her eyes. He had no mercy for her... he had suggested feeding her to the dogs, after all.

"Think about your life, Scootaloo... think about what you're leaving behind."

"I am!" the filly cried. "I don't want to leave it! Please let me go! I won't tell anypony about this."

"We won't let you go, Scootaloo." Ironhoof took a breath. "I noticed your wings, little one. They're infantile, underdeveloped -- hypoplasic-vestigial. Do your schoolmates make fun of you for that?"

"No! They like me just the way I am!"

"That's even better, for you see... when you get older, it will start. They will begin to look down on you. It will start with them seeing you as inferior, weak, defective... simply to make themselves look better. Life is about competition and if you can't keep up with others they will crush you. We've spared you the horrors of growing up in self-disappointment. Buttercup loves you no matter what. Your wings don't matter to her and they sure don't matter to me. Changing your color was ingenious also, if I dare say so... only I could get it looking so perfect. You are the first whose coat I've changed, and with luck the last. You are young -- let her love you, it will make you happy. She asks so little... and you have no choice; she will treat you well. Those garments you will continue wear and soil, the food in the jars you will eat, and from the nipple you will drink. I hope over time you'll drink willingly from her bosom. That's really all a pony ever needs for nourishment."

Fortunately the only context Scootaloo was familiar with for the word bosom, was "bosom-buddy." She stared up at him, confused. Everything he had said hurt, but she could tell he was a bad pony trying to damage her feelings... that's what kept her from taking it to heart. She scowled at him, and he saw the fight in her eye.

"That's all I have to say." Ironhoof smiled. "Don't you have anything to say? Questions?"

She thought for a moment... it was quiet again. When she finally spoke, her words a jumbled mish-mash making sense but not making sense at the same time... she was tired:

"Y-you just said it doesn't matter if I don't want to... but you told me I'm not some silly foal. I am Scootaloo!"

"Yes, but once I go back upstairs, I will refer to you as Honey and treat you like a foal. I'm giving you the dignity of not changing you right now, which the Mistress will be down shortly to do. Besides, that's your bonding time with her. You will get weekly baths, which you will need to be lightly sedated for, and bi-monthly touch ups for your coat color. None of that matters to you as you won't even know the date... and no pony will tell you. My goal is to make it so will you live moment-to-moment, forgetting everything. It'll be easier than you think, and may feel like a distant memory to you at first... welcome it. I know you have no mother or father, I know a lot about you... let us embrace you, as we will never leave you."

Ironhoof's hammering struck a nerve that, despite being in shock from all this, caused Scootaloo to cry again. The stallion turned his back to the blubbering filly.

"That's the only form of communication you'll need now. Good night, Scootaloo."

He slowly crept back up the stairs. The lights went out again as he reached the top, then he shut the door. Scootaloo was in darkness now, she knew it was night for sure... all she could smell was a mixture of her own feces and foal powder. She could feel the mess in her diaper now. When the lights would finally come back on, the filly would never be allowed to grow up. They would both see to that.