A little seed in a pod.

Scootaloo had felt good when they had parted with her new Skyview friends. She liked those ponies. There are a lot of weird things in this world. Things that you can only take on together with friends. Good friends. Friends you trust. Scootaloo was glad she found herself trusting them. She was glad that she had been able to help them. Things were moving forward. There was no stagnation. Even though it didn’t look like much. Just a little get together. But when all was said and done, they ended up being different than before. They were ripe. Plum and juicy. Like an apple at Applebloom’s farm. A ripe apple. Ready to go forward, to move on, to fall from the tree. And carry on their little seeds. Little apple seeds. Yeah, that’s what Scootaloo was. A little seed in a pod.

Scootaloo must have dozed off at some point.

She couldn’t help it, the stroller’s ever so gentle tremble had lulled her in, as it rolled over cobble flattened by untold times’ worth of use, and Fluttershy was breathing onto the top of her head, rhythmically making the hair on Scootaloo’s neck stand on end. It was like a hot sauna after a cold day, the mollifying warmth of Fluttershy’s presence sapping Scootaloo of her strength, penetrating relaxation, and Scootaloo knew she couldn’t resist, instead relishing her pacifier’s soft rubber presence, and the secure comfort of her stroller seat/pod. And Scootaloo got comfortable, which wasn’t easy at first, because she had to adjust her posture in unexpected ways, and naturally spread her hind legs apart, so the damp, swollen presence of her diaper wouldn’t be such a nuisance. And then Scootaloo relaxed, and watched the moon whenever it showed its face between buildings.

She didn’t notice she had been snoozing, but suddenly, they were at the hotel. Oh, and the little bit of drool hanging off her chin was a good indication she had been sleeping, too.

Fluttershy tried to be quiet because it was in the middle of the night, but the hotel manager snapped awake anyway at the front desk, chipper as ever to receive his patrons, despite the fact that Fluttershy had taken the stroller inside.

“Good evening to the young mares,” he said, his grin like muscle reflex.

“Um,” Fluttershy said, “Hello. I hope you don’t mind us taking the stroller into our room. We’re just having, kind of, a small situation.”

“No bother, of course,” the manager echoed, “If it fits, it fits, I always say. There’s staff in the kitchen, I’m sure they’ll whip you something up if you just ask. Otherwise, you know where to find me.”

“Thanks,” Fluttershy said. Scootaloo thought she could hear his head thudding on his desk after they were around the corner.

Fluttershy walked them back to their room. The stroller just about fit through the door, and Fluttershy parked by the entrance. Then she briefly excused herself to the bathroom. An emergency.

It was unsurprising, Fluttershy smelled somewhat of alcohol, sugar and sweet gummies. She must have tasted her way through quite a few fancy drinks, though it was always hard to tell whether the easy elegance, with which Fluttershy weaved through the room, was a result of her particular choice of beverage, or merely part of her natural magnificence.

Scootaloo found herself rather intoxicated as well. Somepony had tidied up the hotel room and left fresh towels and linens. It reminded her of the first time they were here, yesterday evening, and what had happened underneath those sheets. Or, for that matter, what had happened earlier today. The kiss that had never quite stopped lingering on Scootaloo’s lips, the mere thought of which seemed to rekindle the heat on her cheeks. For even the alcohol was unable to mask that airy, delicious smell of Fluttershy’s breath.

Scootaloo found herself rather squirmy in her stroller seat.

“I’m sorry, Scoots,” Fluttershy said when she returned, “I’m sure you’re eager to get out of your mussy clothes. How about we take a quick shower together? Wash off all the grime and get us all nice and clean.”

“Yeah,” Scootaloo said, “I’d like that.”

“That’s good to hear,” Fluttershy said.

She closed in and bowed down to unstrap Scootaloo from the stroller. Her beautiful pink mane was like a glazed silken sea, infinitely deep and fresh, and Scootaloo was a parched wanderer in the desert. She wanted to help Fluttershy and tried to climb out of the stroller.

“No, no,” Fluttershy giggled, “let me handle that, silly. Little baby fillies don’t know how to get out of their strollers on their own, did you forget?”

“Thanks, mommy,” Scootaloo said. Of course Fluttershy would be on point in her thinking.

Scootaloo leaned back into the seat, and Fluttershy lifted her skirt to check underneath. But Fluttershy’s giggling didn’t cease, and, in fact, she soon couldn’t contain it, and had a small fit of laughter.

“Sorry, sorry,” Fluttershy said, “I’m so sorry, Scootaloo. I didn’t mean to laugh. I just don’t think I’ve ever seen such a full diaper before. This thing looks rather done for.”

It did look kind of silly. Fluttershy had lifted Scootaloo’s skirt just to make sure she wasn’t seeing things, but the sodden plastic bulk of Scootaloo’s diaper was sagging so severely, there was no hope of covering it up. It lay fat and soggy on the stroller’s seat, almost touching Scootaloo’s knees. And against the dark and yellow stained, bloated plastic backdrop, the cartoon rabbit was still overly excited, smiling back at them encouragingly. It looked absolutely ridiculous. Scootaloo couldn’t help giggling as well.

“Maybe we should have taken more diapers,” Fluttershy said, “I didn’t mean to let you sit in this thing all evening.”

“Don’t worry, Fluttershy,” Scootaloo grinned, “Little baby fillies don’t understand when they need a change, right?”

To prove her point, Scootaloo squeezed her hind legs together, squishing the crinkly mass a bit. A bit of liquid was pressed out and dripped down her skin, but Scootaloo didn’t mind, that’s just the way things are for a foal.

“You’re right, of course,” Fluttershy said, “and I’m glad you feel that way. I wasn’t sure whether or not you would feel bothered by something like this.”

“I never feel bothered when I’m with you,” Scootaloo bit her tongue, but the words had already slipped out.

Fluttershy just smiled. Her warm, forgiving smile. The smile that said, everything is okay. The smile that Scootaloo craved so much, especially after she’d just said something cheesy like a complete dork.

“That’s very nice of you to say, Scootaloo,” Fluttershy said. She hugged Scootaloo, and Scootaloo hugged back, much preferring Fluttershy’s amazingly soft fur to any clothes or linens, really

Fluttershy subtly took advantage of the situation, and moved a hoof down to undo the buttons on Scootaloo’s skirt. She then pulled away the skirt, and laid her hoof on the crinkly plastic underneath. A rip, and the tail tape was pulled open, the sodden material immediately sagging away and leaving Scootaloo’s hindquarters cold in the air. Scootaloo shuddered.

Fluttershy got Scootaloo undressed, but wouldn’t let her be any help in the process. Scootaloo had to lie back and busy herself with her pacifier as Fluttershy took off her boots.

“There we go,” Fluttershy said, “doesn’t it feel all nice and airy, to finally be out of those dank old boots?” She lightly kissed Scootaloo on the newly exposed hoof, and Scootaloo jolted, squealing at the sudden ticklish sensation.

“Huh?” Fluttershy grinned, “Do your little hoovsies like being in the air?”

“Yes, mommy!” Scootaloo laughed, “Hoovsies!”

“That’s right,” Fluttershy said, “and I’m sure your little tummy would like some fresh air as well.”

Fluttershy opened Scootaloo’s jacket and freed her of it, first one foreleg, and then the other. The jacket was lifted away. Scootaloo hadn’t used the wing sleeves, and it was great to air out her feathers a bit. Fluttershy was right, it did feel much better this way, much less clammy.

And that only left the hard part.

“Let’s get you out of this old diaper,” Fluttershy said, “we have to be careful not to make a mess, don’t we?”

She reached between Scootaloo’s hind legs, gathered most of the sodden pulp in her hoof, and gently but firmly pressed it against Scootaloo. Then she reached over with her free hoof, and pulled open the tapes around Scootaloo’s waist, the plastic underwear promptly falling slack as soon as the last tape came undone. The diaper’s weight now rested in Fluttershy’s hoof, and she carefully lowered the front, letting the soggy inside slide smoothly down Scootaloo’s skin, wary of whatever might lurk inside.

“Oh my,” Fluttershy commented.

The diaper fell open, and nothing lurked inside. It was only Scootaloo. But the diaper had obviously exceeded its capacity for absorbency, the surface of the absurdly swollen pulp was glistening with wetness, and there were little pockets of liquid standing against the leak guards. It was kind of icky, actually. Scootaloo’s fur was dripping with whatever the diaper hadn’t been able to absorb, and the sweet fragrance of baby powder wasn’t quite able to hide the smell of wet plastic and stale pee.

“This diaper looks like it’s been through quite something,” Fluttershy said.

“Um ...” Scootaloo said, “I guess ...” She fiddled with her hooves. The situation shouldn’t have bothered her so much, but the air on her clammy exposed skin, the soppy squishiness underneath, and the smell. It was all a bit much. “I just needed the bathroom so badly, back at the fair. And I didn’t think it through ... sorry. I should have paid attention to how much I drink.”

“No, you shouldn’t have, silly,” Fluttershy said, “have you ever seen a foal who pays attention to how much she drinks?”

“No,” Scootaloo said.

“I didn’t think so,” Fluttershy said, “I’d rather you just enjoy yourself, and let me take care of the complicated stuff. For example, how much you should drink.”

“You’re probably right,” Scootaloo said.

“Do you trust your mommy to take care of stuff?” Fluttershy cooed.

“Yes!” Scootaloo said, “I trust you. I’m glad you’re taking care of things. And letting me drink all I want.”

“That’s good to hear,” Fluttershy said. As a reward, she gave Scootaloo a little kissy on the nose. Scootaloo giggled and squirmed around happily. “And another one,” Fluttershy said, and a loving peck on the cheek followed.

Scootaloo relished the affectionate contacts, they made everything feel so alright. But she still couldn’t relax. In fact, the bubbling excitement in her stomach was beginning to take on an electric undercurrent. The incredibly soft fur on Fluttershy’s face, the silken touch of her breath when she got close, the infinite depths of her eyes when she beheld Scootaloo. It was all a bit much. But in a good way.

Fluttershy gathered Scootaloo’s tail, then she embraced Scootaloo and carefully lifted her out of the stroller. The diaper remained in the seat, completely bloated and soaked through from back to front. What had once been a regal hourglass shape was now the legacy of the valiant struggle the superabsorbent core had ultimately succumbed to.

Scootaloo stood aside and out of the way. Fluttershy didn’t know how to approach the thing. She first tried to roll it up as usual, but the diaper was too pliable and threatened to pour out of her hooves. Ultimately, she settled on grabbing the diaper by the four corners and lifting it up like a heavy plastic bag. She fluttered into the bathroom with the sagging bundle in her hooves - no way she was holding that by teeth - and dropped it into the little, freshly emptied, diaper bin by the changing table.

Fluttershy’s movements were efficient, yet subtly elegant and aesthetically very pleasing. Scootaloo had no chance to keep up with that, so she just plodded after her, hooves indiscreetly sounding on the tiles.

“Whew, now that that’s taken care of,” Fluttershy said, theatrically wiping her brow, “we’ll go about getting all nice and cleaned up.” A streak of dust remained on her forehead. “And good thing too, seems like we need it.”

Fluttershy got undressed and got into the shower. She took the showerhead in her hooves and checked the water temperature, blossoming forth a plume of steam.

“Alright, Scootaloo,” Fluttershy said, “come into the shower, sweetie. But please sit down, we wouldn’t want you to slip on the wet ground.”

The little basin was barely big enough, and with the curtain pulled, Scootaloo found herself with a face full of dirty Fluttershy. Which wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

“Um, Fluttershy?” Scootaloo said. She pointed at her pacifier. “Shouldn’t I take this out?”

“Do you want to?” Fluttershy said.

“No,” Scootaloo said.

“Okay then,” Fluttershy giggled, “Button up! Here comes the water.”

Despite the warning, Fluttershy cupped the shower head with a hoof and gently drizzled the stream over Scootaloo’s face. How cool! The plastic pacifier was impermeable to the wetness. She only took it out briefly, rinsing all the day’s worth of drool out of the fur on her chin, before enjoying its rubbery comfort once more.

The water was so soothing. So warm. It crept down her scalp like a mollifying warm web, dripped down onto her shoulders, running over her chest and down her back, pearling on her feathers, weighing her down as it continuously soaked into her fur. Scootaloo just sat, and Fluttershy caressed her so gracefully, brushing the strands of wet mane out of her face, the basin darkening with dust and mud.

Then it stopped. Scootaloo opened her eyes. Fluttershy was holding the showerhead out for her. “Your turn,” she said.

Scootaloo took the shower head, and it promptly slipped out of her grasped and clattered to the ground, spraying water everywhere.

“Easy now,” Fluttershy giggled, very gently. Funny, Scootaloo usually wasn’t this clumsy.

Scootaloo tried again, and directed the shower onto Fluttershy, like Fluttershy had done before. The water poured over the large, slender mare, weighing her down, steam now everywhere, an uncharacteristic deep groan of contentment from her. Fluttershy’s mane was so long, it clung to her body, gentle pink outlines of her long and thin elegance, pooling in the water. Scootaloo reached out and also brushed a pink strand out of Fluttershy’s face. Fluttershy smiled, eyes closed.

Fluttershy lathered up with a piece of soap. She undertook the task of cleaning herself on her own, because clearly Scootaloo wasn’t in any condition to. Scootaloo, now basically reduced to a mount for the showerhead, couldn’t decide whether she should pay attention not to blast Fluttershy in the face with water, or whether she should look away, to keep the flawless beauty of the magnificent creature before her untarnished.

Fluttershy’s glistening body twisted as she scrubbed her armpits, curved perfection, the sight had Scootaloo breathing increasingly heavy, or maybe it was the steamy air. And then Fluttershy uncoiled her agile legs, Scootaloo marveled at their length, and just barely looked away before Fluttershy noticed.

“No need to be embarrassed, Scoots,” Fluttershy smiled. Everything was all right. “I don’t mind washing up in front of somepony else, and certainly not in front of you, my little filly.”

“I’m not embarrassed,” Scootaloo said, “I’m ... uh ...” Humbled. Awed. Impassioned.

“Silly,” Fluttershy giggled, “Well, I hope you’re ready, because it’s your turn now.”

Fluttershy took the showerhead, had Scootaloo stretch out her limbs, and the dance of the soap across Scootaloo’s skin began. For some reason it felt incredibly funny, she immediately started giggling when the round little thing raced down her forelegs, and Fluttershy giggled too, making a game out of poking and prodding Scootaloo’s sensitive spots on her chest and belly. She never failed her duty to thoroughness though, even carefully scrubbing out the insides of Scootaloo’s hooves as the little pony was on the floor from laughter, her sensitive hooves abuzz from the contact.

Scootaloo’s mane and tail were duly rinsed out, but when Fluttershy got to her back, Scootaloo had to hold her muzzle shut, as the soap probed around the delicate undersides of her wings. Scootaloo bit down on the pacifier and just about managed to keep her composure, but her efforts were ultimately fruitless, her trembling wings twitched involuntarily, and Fluttershy noticed.

“Sorry,” Scootaloo said.

“Don’t worry about it, Scootaloo,” Fluttershy said, “Some of our body parts can be very sensitive, it’s normal. Come here, it’ll be easier if you hold on to me. We’re almost done, I promise.”

Fluttershy embraced Scootaloo and held her close, and it was much easier that way indeed, in the comforting safety of Fluttershy’s dripping shoulders, while a careful hoof traced the edge of Scootaloo’s wing and brushed down her primary feathers. Fluttershy mercifully was finished soon, and then moved her hooves further down, below Scootaloo’s tail, but both of them were more familiar with that sensation, due to all the diaper changes, as Fluttershy caressed Scootaloo’s dripping wet buttocks with confidence. In fact, Scootaloo found herself enjoying the pampering of her hindquarters a lot, and a little squeak of pleasure escaped into Fluttershy’s mottled chest fur.

“That’s right, Scootaloo,” Fluttershy said, “let’s get all that yucky stuff out of there, shall we?” Fluttershy proceeded further down, and Scootaloo stood with her hind legs a bit more apart, so Fluttershy could easily reach every spot she needed to reach. Fluttershy’s work was bold and thorough, and Scootaloo was impressed, doing her best in turn not to let her shivers of pleasure become apparent.

The fresh towels were so wonderfully fluffy. Scootaloo’s world became quivering softness as Fluttershy rubbed her dry vigorously, pacifier handle clacking against the plastic shield, and Fluttershy also dried off Scootaloo’s mane and tail, which was done pretty quickly since they weren’t particularly long. Scootaloo, in turn, after watching for a while, was allowed to help Fluttershy dry off, and dutifully stood on her towel-wrapped tail to press out the water.

Scootaloo couldn’t wait for the diaper change. She was glad it no longer terrified her, like yesterday when she had been on the changing table, because that meant she could pay more attention to all the pleasant little details. The changing table had the perfect height for bigger fillies to climb up, the sturdy polymer plastic mat crinkled ever so softly as it adapted to her weight, the pervasive scent of baby powder and sweet aromas of foal care products indulged her senses.

Fluttershy didn’t intervene, she was too amused. “My little fuzzy filly seems very eager to get on the changing table,” she said.

“Fuzzy? I’m not fuzzy,” Scootaloo said. She looked down at her chest. The towelling had left her fur standing in a hazy fluff. “Um. I guess I am.”

“You’re a little fuzzball, Scootaloo,” Fluttershy giggled, “would my little fuzzball like to have a nice fresh diaper for bed?”

Scootaloo wasn’t sure about the term fuzzball, but she nodded eagerly regardless. The magnificent sound of crinkling plastic made an enticing backdrop as Fluttershy squeaked a diaper out of the package, and fluffed out the flattened hourglass shape into its natural elastic curl.

“It’s a bird!” Scootaloo adeptly identified the cartoon animal on the diaper.

“Yes, it is,” Fluttershy said, “though it’s hard to tell what kind. It seems to have a tooth on its beak, but it looks kind of too small to be a bird of prey. I wonder if the cartoonist who drew this knew much about birds.”

“It looks kind of like Greif,” Scootaloo said.

“Hm,” Fluttershy said, “I suppose it does. If Greif were a parrot instead of a golden eagle.”

Fluttershy grabbed Scootaloo’s hind legs and lifted them up in a very smart motion, lifting her rear just enough for the soft diaper to be slipped in place against her tail, while simultaneously providing Fluttershy with access to the most sensitive parts of Scootaloo’s skin, a generous helping of foal cream finding its way onto Scootaloo’s rump.

“Greif is an impressive bird,” Fluttershy said.

“Yeah,” Scootaloo said, “but his owner is kind of a creep. She didn’t even say a word when we met her, remember? She could have at least come to the petting zoo, the whole thing was kinda dull with only the usual animals.”

“Well, Greif doesn’t exactly strike me as the type for being pet,” Fluttershy said, “although I trust you enjoyed the remainder of the festival.”

“It was amazing,” Scootaloo said earnestly, “It was great to meet Terry and Magnolia and Circuit again. They’re cool. We had a lot of fun together, and the show fight was amazing. I’m not sure they fought entirely for show, because it seemed fairly serious, but the two contestants are both so cool too. There were kind of a lot of ponies, I wish it hadn’t been so crowded, but it’s okay, because we stuck together. And ... yeah ...”

Fluttershy let Scootaloo relish the moment in silence. Since Scootaloo had used her diapers like a foal, Fluttershy had to be thorough with the skin cream, like with a foal, to make sure every part of her skin was duly protected. Scootaloo trembled a bit, and she had become pretty warm between her thighs, which kind of amused Fluttershy. But her duty came first and foremost, and she made sure to thoroughly coat Scootaloo’s lower belly and deep inside her folds with the protective layer of cream.

Enough was eventually enough, and Fluttershy grabbed the crinkling diaper front and pulled it up snug against Scootaloo, the amazingly soft thickness humbly taking place between her legs, shielding her sensitive skin with its bulwark of cloudy fluff. Fluttershy ripped open the sticky tapes and pulled them tight around Scootaloo’s hips, crinkling them stuck against the front of the diaper with a hoof. Then she embraced Scootaloo, pulled her upright, fastened the tail tape.

The diaper was snug, secure, infrangible. Scootaloo could be carefree, and whenever she needed her diaper, it would be ready. It was such a simple concept, yet so delightfully liberating, and it took somepony as genius as Fluttershy to truly understand. Scootaloo wanted to climb down and thank her.

“Not so fast, we’re not quite done yet,” Fluttershy said. She picked up Scootaloo and turned her around so she faced the wall.

“Huh?” Scootaloo said, “What are -- ohh ... “

A spark of a contact, and then an electric jolt. Fluttershy’s muzzle unabashedly wiggled its way into Scootaloo’s plumage, curiously brushing all feather and fuzz sideways until she came in contact with the edge of the wing, already extended so invitingly. And then Fluttershy expertly fell into the instinctual motions, slowly advancing across the entire length of the wing, while her lips cautiously tugged on every quill and pulled out every piece of down that came loose.

Fluttershy was preening Scootaloo.

“Oh my,” Fluttershy said, “there’s a whole lot of molt in here.”

“Sorry,” Scootaloo said, “I, um. I don’t know how to preen.” The words came unusually easily.

“Oh, I wouldn’t expect you to,” Fluttershy said, “your wings are too small for you to do it yourself.”

The words were not insulting, but simple, stated observation. And it was natural to hear them from Fluttershy, because Fluttershy merely intended to state the fact so she could do something about it. Still, some shame lingered. Years of reserve wouldn’t be undone so easily.

“Wanna hear a funny story?” Fluttershy said, “Did you know that Rainbow Dash didn’t know how to preen either when she was a filly?”

“Really?” Scootaloo said.

“Yeah,” Fluttershy said, “I used to do it all the time for her. She was just more interested in flying and sleeping than taking the time to look after herself, I guess. She used to get the most fierce cramps and aches in her wings whenever I wasn’t around, because they lost their lifting capacity and had irregular air patterns. Rainbow Dash got around eventually, I explained to her that good flying wasn’t just about being strong or fast, but also about paying attention to the details. Preening is important for getting the molt out of your feathers, and arranging the feathers neatly on top of each other again, so that your wings are balanced and tidy. You should have it done from time to time, even if you don’t fly.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Scootaloo said, “thanks for doing it for me.”

“I’m happy to,” Fluttershy said, “and we’re done.”

Scootaloo was lifted up and sat down on the floor. Her wings felt fresh, her whole body abuzz with the pleasant tingle of cleanliness. Fluttershy had done a tremendous job of cleaning her up. Scootaloo didn’t even feel like walking, so she kind of just observed and crawled after, her tail end crinkling all the way, as Fluttershy preened as well, disposed of the discarded yellow and orange feathers in the bin, and then went to make the bed.

Scootaloo couldn’t take her eyes off Fluttershy’s hypnotizing figure. The lighting in the room was dim, the shoddy crystals splintered and cracked along their edges, imbalancing the distribution of magic contained in their molecular structure into regular patterns of discontinuities, casting a crystalline mesh of light onto Fluttershy, which served to accentuate her form to an extreme degree. The rounded elongated shape of her midsection twisted all the way, and the flexing muscles on her legs carried her so fluently, it was like watching water flowing through a landscape, unstoppably nuanced, as Fluttershy walked out of the room.

Silence. Scootaloo would have lost control right then and there, but she was stunned.

When Fluttershy came back, she carried something white. The thing had a weird little cap. A ring of plastic with a rubber nipple on top?

“How about a little snack, Scootaloo?” Fluttershy said, “It’s a baby bottle. They had one standing in the kitchen.”

“A baby bottle?” Scootaloo said.

“Yeah,” Fluttershy said, “You know. The kind that little foals drink out of. I thought it’d be good to get something warm in you to help you sleep. Come on!”

Fluttershy climbed on the bed and laid down, curling sideways and creating an inviting little pocket between her forelegs and belly that practically had Scootaloo written all over. Scootaloo found herself unable to think as she was reeled in by the irresistible pull. She clambered onto the bed, much clumsier and crinklier than the larger pony had, and then she crawled over to Fluttershy, and Fluttershy grabbed her and gently pulled her close, laying her down in the comfortable little nest of warmth.

Scootaloo laid on her back, Fluttershy’s soft tummy on her one side, Fluttershy’s hind legs supporting Scootaloo’s rear, and Fluttershy’s grinning face right in front of her own. It was pure bliss. The baby bottle closed in, brushing across Scootaloo’s mouth, a soft rubber nipple teasing its way between her lips. Its shape was entirely different from the broad and utilitarian pacifier, tantalizingly soft and round.

“Open up,” Fluttershy said gently.

The rubber was thinner, and was graced by a cute little hole at the tip. Plus, it was also held in place by Fluttershy instead of sitting there on its own. Scootaloo regarded Fluttershy, and Fluttershy looked back expectantly.

“You gotta suckle, silly,” Fluttershy giggled.

“Oh right,” Scootaloo said. She sucked on the nipple, and a few warm drops came out. The milk was incredibly rich and fatty, and the stark sweet flavor had somewhat of a sharp texture to it. It was a luxurious taste, savory and comforting, and Scootaloo sucked out some more, chewing on the rubber and letting the fluid come out, until she had enough in her mouth to swallow.

“Does it taste good?” Fluttershy said.

“It’s yummy,” Scootaloo said. Oops. The nipple had slipped out of her mouth, but amazingly, it didn’t spill any of its contents. Fluttershy put it back in, and Scootaloo continued to suckle. “Though it tastes unusual. The milk has a bit of a tang to it.”

“Yes,” Fluttershy said, “I didn’t see any cows around, so I suppose it’s sheep milk, or something.”

With her free hoof, Fluttershy gently caressed Scootaloo’s tummy, increasingly suffused by the pleasant drink, warmed up and relaxing after the cold night out. The hoof moved a bit lower, brushing over the plastic of Scootaloo’s diaper and smoothing it down. The diaper was not only practical, saving Fluttershy from headaches she might have otherwise had, but it was also kind of cute, making Scootaloo’s wiggly hind legs stick apart and her rump bulge out adorably.

“So,” Fluttershy said, “I’ve been meaning to ask. What’s so great about diapers anyway?”

“Um,” Scootaloo said.

“I don’t mean to be nosy,” Fluttershy said, “Just curious. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want.”

“It’s okay,” Scootaloo said, “but ... I just, uh ... I don’t know.”

“I figured as much,” Fluttershy said, “It doesn’t strike me as something that is easily explained. But you do like them, right?”

“Uh ... y-yes,” Scootaloo said. She felt at a loss to say something to explain herself, even though she had toiled over the topic a million times. “They kind of, like, feel good. I like how they feel. Because they are soft, and ... uh, comfy.”

Fluttershy smiled warmly, and gave Scootaloo’s diaper a few crinkly pats. “I can see that,” she said, just squeezing a bit of the diaper ever so gently in her hoof, “I also think they are pretty soft, and very gentle to the touch. Kind of appropriate for the soft forms of little foals. Do you find the feeling of something soft against your skin pleasant?”

“Well, who wouldn’t?” Scootaloo said.

That made Fluttershy laugh. “I suppose you’re right,” she said, “But there are many things that are soft. Like some of the animals we saw today. But the way I see it, diapers are much more special to you. They’re kind of like super fluffy clothing, right? Do you like how fluffy they are?”

“Um ... I ...” Scootaloo fumbled with her words.

“It’s alright, Scootaloo,” Fluttershy said, “I thought it would be nice for you to have a chance to talk about it. And I’m a bit curious too, because there are so many different things for a young mare to be interested in, you’d think. You can talk to me freely, if you want. You’ll still be my little fuzzball, okay?”

“Fuzzball?” Scootaloo said.

“Well, yeah,” Fluttershy said, gently patting Scootaloo’s belly, her hoof almost vanishing in the still fuzzy fur.

“Okay, fuzzball then,” Scootaloo giggled, “I mean, yeah, I always thought it was kind of neat, how they are so ...” She wiggled her hind legs a bit, but the mounds of fluff between them wouldn’t yield. “... so thick. It’s always so, present, the thickness, it’s always there. You can always feel it. And it’s so good because it’s so soft. It’s almost like wearing super thick underpants. Well, uh, except ... “ Rustling and crinkling with every movement. “ ... of plastic.”

“Plastic, huh?” Fluttershy said. Her eyes now twinkled with earnest curiosity, like a juicy secret being revealed, alcohol still lingering in the air. “Do you like the feel of plastic?”

“Not really,” Scootaloo said, “I mean, I never thought it was anything special.”

“But you like panties made of plastic?” Fluttershy prompted.

“I guess?” Scootaloo said, “They aren’t like, really panties.”

“No, of course not,” Fluttershy said, “panties are panties and diapers are diapers. There are many kinds of plastic, right? There’s thick plastic and clear plastic and sturdy plastic. And diapers are made of especially soft and thin plastic, because they’re supposed be comfortable to wear.”

“Right!” Scootaloo said, “and panties, they’re so silly to put on, because you have to pull them up all the way. And diapers have their sticky tapes, you can just go and tape them on super easy. I think that’s really neat.”

“Moreso when somepony else tapes them on for you, right?” Fluttershy said and winked.

“Yeah,” Scootaloo said. The words were spilling out at this point. “And they’re super elastic all over, it’s like they want to hold on to you. It just feels so good, when you can be sure the diaper will be there, and don’t have to worry. And I also like how it sounds. Like when you do anything, how you can always hear the rustling.”

Fluttershy had been playing with Scootaloo’s elastic waistband, tugging on it and making it crinkle. “The rustling’s pretty cute,” she said, “when you hear the sound, you just know there’s a cute foal around. You know the plastic rustles because it’s thick enough to be watertight, right?”

“Yes ...” Scootaloo said.

“And there’s the pretty leg ruffles,” Fluttershy said, “that make sure when the diaper is used, they catch the liquid, and all of it stays inside.”

“Yes,” Scootaloo said.

“Do you also like using your diaper?” Fluttershy said.

Under her fur, Scootaloo had already been blushing something fierce, but this question caught her tongue.

“I see,” Fluttershy giggled, “I mean, it’s not unheard of. Do you also like peeing in your regular clothes?”

“Yuck,” Scootaloo said, “No way. That’s just gross.”

“It is, huh?” Fluttershy said, “But you like peeing in your diaper.”

“But that’s different,” Scootaloo said, “Because I’m allowed to use it, right?”

“Of course you are,” Fluttershy said, “That’s what your diaper is made for. In fact, you’re supposed to use it, because that’s what foals do. So, you like going in your diaper because you’re allowed to?”

“And because it’s kinda neat,” Scootaloo said, “because, you know, how foals can just go whenever they want. It’s just so cool that you don’t have to think about it, and don’t have to bother looking for a toilet and stuff.”

“So a diaper is like a toilet for you?” Fluttershy said.

“A much better one,” Scootaloo said.

“A much better toilet, huh,” Fluttershy teased, “Because it’s kinda neat to use. Isn’t that something.”

Scootaloo had nothing more to say, the conversation had drained her of all resolve, and she couldn’t stop giggling as all her intimate secrets just spilled out like that. It was so liberating, but also paralyzingly exciting.

“So,” Fluttershy said, “did you enjoy when I made you poop in your diaper earlier today?”

Scootaloo buried her face in her hooves. “No way,” she gasped, “you did that on purpose?”

“Of course,” Fluttershy said, “I thought it was fun. Did you too?”

Scootaloo peeked out behind her hooves, and Fluttershy just smiled at her affectionately.

“I hope nopony noticed,” Scootaloo said.

“They did,” Fluttershy said, without letting Scootaloo get too alarmed, “but it was okay. Nopony thought anything of it. Just a little filly doing what little fillies sometimes do, right?”

“Right,” Scootaloo said, “That was ... also kinda neat.”

“Yeah,” Fluttershy said, “and then you were a bit of a saggypants, afterwards. Wasn’t that funny?”

“It felt funny for sure,” Scootaloo said.

“I bet it did,” Fluttershy said.

The baby bottle had run empty sometime earlier, but the lust for sensory pleasure still lingered on Scootaloo’s lips. She couldn’t help herself, she snuggled closer to Fluttershy just to be able to take in more of her intoxicating presence, her warmth, her scent.

“Thank you, Fluttershy,” Scootaloo said, “for all of this. I really enjoyed it a lot. For the first time, I didn’t have to feel bad about the things ... that I usually feel bad about. Like not being able to fly, or being too small, or not knowing how to preen. It’s weird, but it felt so normal. And that was so very special for me.”

“You’re welcome,” Fluttershy said, “but just so you know, I enjoyed it too. And I don’t think anypony would really fault you for it, not really. Because those things, they don’t define who you are, Scootaloo. You’re not your weak wings, and you’re not your small body. And to like being a foal and wearing diapers ... okay. So what? You’re you, Scootaloo. You’re so much more than these small details. And ...” She leaned closer and spoke softly. “I like you for who you are.”

Fluttershy gave a soft little kiss on Scootaloo’s forehead. Scootaloo couldn’t help it, she promptly turned around to return the cutesy gesture, but Fluttershy had already moved away, and Scootaloo kissed the air.

“Oh, you wanted to give me a smooch?” Fluttershy giggled, “Here.”

She leaned back down, presenting her neck, and Scootaloo immediately latched on and planted little pecks up and down its length, from Fluttershy’s chin all the way down to her chest, which bounced with that pleasant laugh. Fluttershy also went to town on the top of Scootaloo’s head, and as she aimed to nuzzle down towards Scootaloo’s nose, and Scootaloo tried to reach Fluttershy’s ears, they twisted around each other, and it quickly became too uncomfortable, so they untangled, and just looked at each other.

Fluttershy’s cerulean eyes were so infinitely cool and deep, like a lake of fresh mountain water, gargantuan bedrock of a thousand year foundation, and a thousand more yet to come, the lure of infinite possibilities, just plunge in, dive into the cool, see where you wind up in the flow, you can never know.

But Fluttershy was so attached, so very grounded in the reality of the situation. She kept her cool, held back, smiling, everything is alright, her breath caressed the bridge of Scootaloo’s nose. She waited, let Scootaloo make the move, joyful companionship, let her decide, Fluttershy would be fine either way. So Scootaloo decided. They pressed muzzles together, first noses, and then lips, and then they kissed.

It was the kiss that simply was. No questions, no answers, nothing at all, except for that deep cool mountain lake. Both of them enjoyed the affectionate contact, and Scootaloo never broke her gaze, just staring into those mesmerizing eyes, but Fluttershy wasn’t good at being stared at, so she began grinning, and Scootaloo grinned too. They broke, and snuggled closer together, warmth building between their touching bellies.

“I like you,” Scootaloo said.

“I like you too,” Fluttershy said.

And then they kissed again, more voluptuously than ever before, lips parted and tongues adjoined, for Scootaloo was overcome by an insatiable hunger that she couldn’t seem to satisfy, a ravenous appetite had been unleashed in the back of her head, lusting and ever desiring for more, more of this, more of Fluttershy, her body, her warmth, her smell, her fur, her mane, her breath, her essence. And Fluttershy offered herself, chest heaving with heavy breaths, giving in to Scootaloo’s carnal advance, kissing and groping and testing every dimension of what the younger and more inexperienced pony had to give.

And so many things clicked into place at once, just suddenly made sense. Fluttershy liked to help, and she enjoyed being needed, and deep down, she sought to be desired, sought those disturbances in the stillness of the lake, mixing up the murk of the depths, the level surface of a thousand year history, breaking what had always been, molten explosions from below or else foreign impacts from above, or even just the light touch of a little fuzzball.

They kissed for a comfortable time more before they’ve had their fill, and then they embraced, lying with each other in still intimacy, Scootaloo examined the side of Fluttershy’s neck, and Fluttershy held on to Scootaloo in the pleasurable but breathtaking glow of companionship.

Scootaloo was half on top of Fluttershy at this point, and then something else struck her, the fascination was so terribly ingrained, even now there was no escape, and with all the dams broken on this evening, there was nothing to stop the newly struck spring from spilling out.

“Um, Fluttershy?” Scootaloo said, “May I ...”

“Yes?” Fluttershy said.

Scootaloo ached to turn away in shame, but she couldn’t, not while the fire in her belly roared. “May I touch your wings?” Scootaloo said.

“Sure,” Fluttershy said.

She rolled over onto her stomach and presented her immaculate plumage, right there for the taking, Scootaloo barely dared commit to the sacrilegious act, but found herself moving closer. She clambered further onto Fluttershy, cautiously and clumsily closing in on those wings, thick diaper crinkling under her tail, she was reduced to little more than a curious infant, in sight of such majestic beauty.

Fluttershy extended a wing, it was long and elegant, the primary, secondary and tertiary feathers stacked perfectly in the regular staccato of general purpose flight, and no matter how far it stretched, the wing remained the ideal image of pegasus anatomy, the culmination of an evolutionary leap, perfect balance, perfect weight, perfect lift. Such immaculacy in the form of a body part would have given anypony pause, yet Scootaloo couldn’t resist, touched perfection with a hoof, Fluttershy trembled underneath, curious contacts across soft downs and barbs that distributed essential fats and oils across the surface of every feather, rainbow sheen brilliant even without natural light.

And then Scootaloo leaned in, she was starving, she needed more, needed to experience it with all of her senses, the unfelt tickle on her hoof, the intoxicating smell of Fluttershy’s body, fur and feathers, Fluttershy whimpering into the pillow. Scootaloo got closer, placed her lips onto the edge of Fluttershy’s wing, down feathers so soft, and she nibbled down the length of the bone and muscle, Fluttershy breathing heavily and her wings twitching like mad, and her powerful flight muscles bulging around her ribcage. This was the pony who could fly from some backwater train station to Skyview in one go, soar the skies for an entire day without complaint, and now she was moaning into the pillow, hind legs kicking as she desperately tried finding purchase in the sheets, wings quivering and fully extended, as Scootaloo gave the other one the same treatment.

Scootaloo had been standing behind Fluttershy, and then she felt wetness on her hind leg. She turned to look lower, and there, from between Fluttershy’s athletic thighs, a long, clear strand of liquid drizzled onto the sheets and onto Scootaloo. The sight of Fluttershy’s elegant haunches, trembling with unfelt power, lured her in, expanded her reach untoward all the treasures yet untapped, a trail of kisses leading down Fluttershy’s trembling back and down to her rear end.

All this hidden grace, boundless complexities of beauty hidden in plain sight, now suddenly all within Scootaloo’s grasp. She felt so free, felt a freedom to surpass any sensation of flight, free like a little butterfly carried onward by unfathomable turmoils, a little butterfly taking on destiny itself, just seeing where it would wind up. A glistening imprint remained where Scootaloo had kissed Fluttershy’s cutie mark. And Scootaloo embraced Fluttershy’s hindquarters, the long pink tail flicked aside invitingly. For Fluttershy didn’t look back over her shoulders, because she didn’t want to, or else because she was unable to, but the language her body spoke was raw and instinctual, clearer than any word or gesture.

Scootaloo made her way underneath Fluttershy’s tail, and then she made Fluttershy stand with her hind legs further apart, drunk with sight and scent, even now as tantalizing as the very first time she had become aware of them. And the depths were deeper and more alluring than ever.

Fluttershy was spotless. Smooth. Pure. And that purity presented itself just for her, just for Scootaloo, dripping heavily with clear, thick juices, the insides of her thighs coated lavishly in the glistening liquid, intimately warm and smelling nothing short of breathtaking. It was pure Fluttershy through and through, in a fidelity Scootaloo hadn’t thought possible. She held her hoof under Fluttershy, gathered some of the viscous juice, brought it up to her muzzle, sniffed it curiously, touched it with her tongue. The taste, it was pure Fluttershy, the ravenous hunger closed in on the sensation with starving desperation, this was everything she hadn’t known to be longing for, and Scootaloo just gave in to the devouring craving.

Scootaloo pressed her face against Fluttershy and gave her mare parts a good lick. Fluttershy arched her back and squealed, but immediately clamped her mouth shut with her hooves, they were in a hotel and there were other ponies around, so she had to be quiet. But Scootaloo wasn’t done exerting her newfound power, far from it, and she closed in again and kissed Fluttershy’s nether lips in earnest, sending Fluttershy heaving and groaning mutedly into the pillows.

Scootaloo made out with Fluttershy’s magnificent folds, and she was voracious, for Scootaloo took everything she wanted and more, sucking, licking, kissing, slurping, satiating herself to her heart’s desire, no rubber nipple could compare to the softness of Fluttershy’s skin, and no honeyed milk could hold a candle to her sublime taste. Scootaloo just opened her mouth as wide as it went, and pressed her tongue against where the taste was the strongest, and drank every last drop that she could.

She could tell when Fluttershy’s instincts took over, and her body fell into the primal motions of nature, and Scootaloo wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, her face firmly in place between Fluttershy’s thighs and the juices gushing down her chin, as Fluttershy arched her back and began humping into Scootaloo with bestial ferocity, the sensuous flame driving her on to go faster and faster, and Scootaloo didn’t even have to do much, she just held in place, counterpoint to Fluttershy’s principal act, flesh and taste driven harder and harder into her senses, a maelstrom of pleasure racing toward its tumultuous climax.

Scootaloo could also tell when Fluttershy came, which was the moment the taste reached a sudden peak in intensity, salty, sour, sweet, tangy, bitter, savoury, all the flavours at once, and more, Fluttershy’s essence so indescribably pure, as Fluttershy slammed herself into Scootaloo and began tensing up and shaking, and Scootaloo sucked as hard as she could and caressed and rubbed Fluttershy’s soft, sweaty buttocks and thighs, pulling her over the precipice of a monumental orgasm that had her flailing on the sheets, the pillows just barely silencing the howls of ecstasy. The juices kept gushing, and Scootaloo kept drinking her fill, for she had descended into the mountain lake, and claimed her due reward, and she kept holding and embracing and soothing Fluttershy as the beautiful mare tumbled over the waves of pure bliss.

Bliss that Scootaloo had caused, all on her own, for the pony she adored so much. Scootaloo emerged from the depths, breathed deep, and Fluttershy promptly collapsed on the sheets, panting heavily. She was still reeling, blinking, trying to catch her breath, beads of sweat running down her brow.

Scootaloo had done this. Only a little fuzzball, and still, this was her power, the power to turn such beauty into exaltation. The power to create, to make something that hadn’t been there before and wouldn’t have been there without her. The power to shape the flow of reality to her will. This sensation was foreign, but new and exciting. Scootaloo sat back and remained in still consideration, regarding Fluttershy in this most intimate of moments.

Fluttershy recovered eventually.

She looked around, and locked eyes with Scootaloo. She smiled, tiredly, and Scootaloo smiled too, and then she grinned, and Scootaloo grinned too, and they broke out into laughter, and the birdie on Scootaloo’s diaper grinned as well, pure, unrestrained joy all around.

“You look ridiculous,” Fluttershy said.

“You look pretty,” Scootaloo said.

Fluttershy stood up and went to the bathroom to clean up. She returned soon, holding a bunch of foal wipes, and went to work wiping Scootaloo’s face, chin and chest clean. She held Scootaloo, and Scootaloo leaned into Fluttershy’s embrace, relishing the comforting closeness. Fluttershy caressed her for a bit, and then she grabbed Scootaloo’s crotch through the diaper, and squeezed invitingly.

“Do you want to, as well?” Fluttershy said.

“No,” Scootaloo said, “I’d rather just cuddle.”

“That’s fine by me,” Fluttershy said.

Fluttershy went and retrieved the pacifier, and plopped it back into Scootaloo’s mouth. Its soft rubbery presence was incredibly soothing, Scootaloo suckled on it with barely a break.

She stayed close to Fluttershy and helped her clean up the bed.