Little Moon Princess

Chapter 3: A Tour to Remember

Celestia opened the nursery door with a gentle flare of magic. “Come,” she said, her tone warm but expectant. “It’s time we begin your tour of the castle.”

Luna didn’t respond. She stepped forward stiffly, her ears angled back in quiet resistance. The new diaper between her legs still felt alien, and every step reminded her of the indignity she had yet to come to terms with. Still, she followed.

The hallway outside was as opulent as she expected, tall arched ceilings, velvet carpets, and stained glass windows that filtered golden afternoon light onto polished marble floors. But Luna couldn’t enjoy the view. Her mind was awhirl with emotions, and every hoofstep felt too loud, too exposed.

At the next corridor, two guards waited. One was an older stallion with a silver coat and sharp, wise eyes. The other, a younger dark-grey unicorn, who fidgeted slightly at attention, as though unsure of the situation.

“These two will stallions will be your personal guard,” Celestia explained as they began walking. “Silver Streak, and his apprentice, Midnight Line. They’ve both been briefed and are under strict orders to treat you with the utmost respect and care.”

Luna glanced at them with irritation, her eyes narrowing. “Are they also under orders to treat me like a foal?”

“Yes,” Celestia replied with calm finality. “But they also understand that you are under my protection and guidance and will only be following the expectations I already spoke with you about, nothing more and nothing less.”

Midnight Line blinked at Luna uncertainly, clearly aware of the tension in the air, but Silver Streak gave a single respectful nod, offering nothing but quiet professionalism.

Luna nodded, then looked away, unable to meet their gaze. It was her only saving grace that the dress she wore seemed to cover her diaper.

When they resumed walking, Luna became aware of a subtle discomfort blooming in her abdomen. At first, it was nothing, just a slight shift of pressure, the kind one might expect after a long nap and an upsetting afternoon. But as the tour continued and Celestia’s voice echoed down the long, gilded hallways, the sensation began to sharpen.

Luna furrowed her brow. She was trying to focus, to listen to the names of diplomats and noble families whose portraits hung in reverent stillness along the castle walls. But her mind kept drifting, pulled back by the quiet, insistent gurgle in her gut.

She swallowed and straightened her posture, trying to will the sensation away. It was probably just stress. She had barely touched any food since her return, and her body had been through so much, this had to be another phantom complaint from a system in shock.

Yet with every step, it grew clearer: this wasn’t imagined. Her stomach clenched again, tighter this time, sending a ripple of tension through her flanks. The diaper around her waist, still dry but a constant humiliating presence, made the discomfort worse both physically and emotionally. It framed everything in a context she refused to accept.

She dared a glance at the guards that followed behind her. They were silent and professional, but she couldn’t shake the sensation of being judged, even if nopony said a word. Just their presence added weight to the pressure building in her belly.

Luna gritted her teeth and looked straight ahead.

She would not ask for help. She would not draw attention to herself. She was not a child. This would pass.

But the truth was beginning to settle in with slow, creeping dread. She had to use the bathroom. The pressure in her lower belly was unmistakable now, sharp and urgent, and it sent a ripple of panic through her chest. She clenched her jaw, trying to will it away, but the need was real and growing. She wasn’t going to make it through the rest of the tour like this. The thought alone made her stomach twist, humiliation rising like bile. Of all the things they could take from her, even this? Even control?

She stole a glance at her sister, who was walking calmly ahead, explaining the history of a set of old armor to the guards. Luna didn’t hear a word. Her heart was starting to pound again. She tried to maintain her regal composure, chin up, wings tucked, hoofsteps steady. But her insides were no longer playing along.

The pressure in her belly deepened, twisting into a sharp, urgent cramp that made her breath hitch. She swallowed thickly, blinking faster as she tried to pretend it wasn’t happening. The slight ache in her abdomen had evolved into a full, gnawing need, one that pulsed low and hot, reminding her with every step that her time was running out.

She cleared her throat softly, trying to keep her voice even as she whispered, “Tia…can we pause for a moment? I need to use the bathroom.” She didn’t dare meet Celestia’s eyes, didn’t dare hint at how badly she needed it. She expected a nod, a word of permission, anything but the calm, implacable response she got.

“There will be no restroom breaks, Luna,” Celestia said gently but firmly. “You know what’s expected of you, I told you earlier. You’re protected now, and that includes your dignity, even if it doesn’t feel like it.”

Luna’s mouth went dry. Her ears pinned back as shame twisted through her chest like a blade, sharp and immediate. Celestia wasn’t joking, she truly meant for Luna to use her diaper, as if it were reasonable, as if it were normal. The realization struck hard, flooding her with a sick heat that crawled up her neck. She wanted to argue, to demand her dignity back, to tell Celestia this had gone too far…but the presence of the guards just behind them kept her quiet. So she swallowed the protest and forced her hooves forward, her silence burning worse than any outburst ever could.

Her tail flicked uncomfortably against the diaper’s crinkling bulk. It was still dry, for now, but she could feel the faintest tremble beginning in her muscles, the body’s subtle way of signaling that holding it much longer would soon stop being optional.

Luna’s ears stayed flattened as she walked, and she carefully slowed her pace just a little, hoping Celestia wouldn’t notice. She shifted her weight subtly from one hind leg to the other as they turned a corner into another long corridor lined with windows and tapestries of ancient battles.

“This hall was renovated after the Gryphon Conflict,” Celestia said, voice calm and even, as if she hadn’t noticed Luna’s unease. “The original structure collapsed during-”

Luna missed the rest of the sentence. Another cramp seized her lower belly, and she had to stop, pretending to admire a nearby painting while she clenched every muscle she could. Her wings twitched slightly at her sides.

No. No, she could hold it. She had to.

But the pressure was steady now, an overwhelming insistence in her bladder, and a fullness in her bowels that was quickly becoming unbearable. And worst of all, she was acutely aware of her own body’s betrayal: the smallest shift, the tiniest lapse in focus, and she knew it would be over.

She had never, in her entire adult life, lost control like this. And yet, the threat of it loomed closer with every hoofstep. Every instinct screamed at her to find a bathroom, but she knew the truth, there wouldn’t be one anywhere near them. Celestia had made it clear, both in word and deed: Luna was going to use her diaper.

Luna’s throat tightened. She thought of begging her sister to let her use the bathroom, that she could still “heal” even if she used the toilet, but the shame of asking, of confessing how badly she needed it, and revealing herself in front of other ponies was too overpowering. So she said nothing. She kept walking.

She would hold on. Somehow. But every step made her doubt herself.

Celestia led her sister down a marble stairwell that curved gently to the left, the light from tall, arched windows falling in zigzag patterns across the steps. They passed an intricately carved alcove where the statues of the first four Alicorn sovereigns stood in reverent stillness. Luna normally would have admired the detail, the way the sculptor had captured the tilt of Empress Mirage’s wings mid-spread, but she barely glanced at it.

Each step sent a ripple through her gut, and with it came a rising sense of panic. Her bladder was screaming for release, an urgent heat pressing low in her abdomen and her bowels weren’t far behind. Pressure deep and thick, twisting into cramps that grew sharper by the minute. She clenched again, hard, trying to will the sensation away.

Celestia paused near a mosaic that stretched across an entire wall, an abstract piece in deep violets and fiery oranges, depicting the founding of Equestria.

“This one was commissioned two hundred years ago, by Duchess Starpetal,” Celestia said. “She insisted it depict unity through magical expression. I never told her I thought it looked like a dragon sneezing into a windstorm.”

Luna gave a small grunt of forced laughter. She was beginning to sweat.

They passed through an open archway into the eastern wing, a quieter stretch of hall lined with antique mirrors and dark velvet curtains. This wing had once been the diplomatic receiving area. Now, with most relations managed in Canterlot proper, it was more a museum than anything.

Celestia pointed to a large portrait of a Zebra ambassador flanked by two smiling foals. “Here’s where we once brokered the peace accords after the Tashanni conflict. Those two little ones at his side grew up to become high chieftains.”

Luna’s vision blurred slightly as another wave of pressure hit her so hard she stumbled. She quickly caught herself and let out a shallow breath, her wings trembling with effort. She could feel her body giving out. Her bladder spasmed, and her muscles screamed in protest as she fought it back.

I will not wet myself in the middle of a hallway like a helpless filly.

Celestia glanced back. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Luna hissed through clenched teeth.

Celestia’s gaze lingered, but she said nothing and turned back to lead them onward. They passed the old council chamber, its grand oak doors etched with years of debate and history when Luna felt the first dam break.

A tiny spurt. A whisper of warmth in her diaper.

She froze in place.

No. No, no, no…..

She pressed her thighs together as tightly as she could, gritting her teeth so hard her jaw ached. But the spurt had come and gone, and she knew what that meant. Her control was breaking.

The castle walls closed in around her. The velvet curtains and finely polished marble didn’t feel like a palace, they felt like a stage. Any moment, she imagined staff turning the corner, witnessing her barely holding it together.

Celestia didn’t notice her pause, or if she had she pretended not to.

“Next is the Grand Solarium,” she said lightly, walking toward a tall sunlit corridor.

Luna followed slowly, her gait smaller, her breaths shallow. The feeling of dampness between her legs hadn’t lessened. The pressure in her bladder surged again and she clenched with every ounce of willpower she still had.

It wasn’t enough.

As she stepped into the grand Solarium its floors gleaming, its domed glass ceiling casting rainbows in every direction, her body surrendered.

A soft hiss of warmth spread into her diaper, an unstoppable flood, humiliating. Her tail stiffened behind her as her bladder emptied fully without her consent. Her back legs buckled just slightly, and she staggered to the side, barely catching herself on a column base.

And then, another cramp.

“No…” she whispered, barely audible.

The mess came before she could stop it. A thick, hot release, hot and squelching, as her bowels let go completely into the waiting diaper. Her face went white, then crimson. Her eyes stung with the threat of tears. She stayed still, not daring to move.

Celestia had stopped ahead, just outside the great doors of the Harmony Wing.

She turned and smiled. “Come along, Luna. This part is especially beautiful in the afternoon light.”

Luna didn’t move at first. Her legs felt rooted to the tile floor, her hooves heavy, her breath caught somewhere just beneath her ribs. The warmth spreading across her rear, the weight of it pressing down, clinging to her fur was unbearable. But worse still was the mortifying knowledge that it would only get worse. She had no way to clean herself. No way to hide it.

{i]Unless she asked.

Unless she told her sister what had happened and asked for a diaper change like an actual foal.

Her throat closed around the words before they could form.

Celestia, oblivious, turned back toward the doors and opened them wide. “This is the Harmony Wing,” she called out, her voice light and proud. “One of my favorite parts of the castle. The original stained glass installations are still intact.”

Luna swallowed hard. Her limbs moved on autopilot, trailing after Celestia like a ghost. Every step squished. The mess shifted with each movement, spreading further across her coat, thick and hot, and every brush of it against her sensitive skin made her want to scream. But she said nothing.

She would not give her sister that satisfaction.



The Harmony Wing was as lovely as Celestia promised, great vaulted ceilings, windows that reached three stories high, images etched in color and light from a thousand years of peace and struggle. The Elements of Harmony were depicted in shimmering crystal. A young pegasus saved a village from fire. A griffon ambassador offered a treaty over shattered armor.

It should have moved her, but instead, Luna felt like she could barely breathe.

Her legs ached from walking stiffly for the last few hours. Her thighs were rubbed raw from holding them apart to keep her mess from spreading. She could feel her heartbeat in the rash already blooming along the crease of her flanks. Her fur itched. Her skin burned. And the heat radiating from beneath her tail was only intensifying.

Celestia pointed to a window depicting Starswirl the Bearded. “This one was added a few decades after you were banished. Can you believe they insisted on making him taller than me? Even in glass, that stallion has an ego.”

Luna didn’t answer. Her teeth were clenched tightly enough to make her jaw ache. She lagged behind, slowly, subtly, until she was several paces off. Celestia noticed, pausing near a column with concern.

“You’re quiet,” she said gently. “Is everything alright?”

Luna nodded her head. She couldn’t trust her voice.

Celestia studied her for a moment longer, then nodded. “We’re almost done. One last hallway, and then we’ll head to dinner. I imagine you’re hungry.”

Not anymore, Luna thought bitterly. The nausea was creeping in now, curling low in her gut. Her legs quivered with every step.



The final hallway was lined with ancient armor and relics from battles long past. Celestia explained each in turn, her tone reverent, like a teacher proud of a museum she’d helped curate. But Luna wasn’t listening at all anymore.

The discomfort had transcended pain. Her skin burned. Her legs shook. The rash had bloomed fully now, raw and angry, especially where the mess had pressed for so long. She could feel every bump of the seam, every trapped fleck of heat. And yet, when her sister turned to her with warm, expectant eyes, Luna forced herself to nod along.

Celestia looked satisfied. “Let’s head to the dining hall, then. Supper should be ready.”

Luna forced herself to walk straighter.

Her legs protested with every step, and her flanks screamed against the rough padding as the rash rubbed raw against it. Still, she lifted her chin and marched alongside her sister like nothing was wrong. She would not stumble. She would not cry.

She had already lost so much dignity, she would not give Celestia the pleasure of watching her fall apart.

The hallway to the dining wing was long and arched, its stained glass windows casting dusky light across the polished marble floor. Celestia spoke about the room’s history, how diplomats once gathered here for feasts during treaty summits, but Luna only half heard her. All she could think about was the squelch between her legs. The way her tail clung to her back. The sickening heat still pulsing across her skin.

When they turned the final corner the dining hall stood before them, tall doors already open. A warm, savory scent floated through the air, basil and tomato and fresh-baked bread. Luna’s stomach twisted again as she walked inside, her gait a stiff, careful waddle.

And then she saw it. Next to Celestia’s place at the table was a large wooden high chair. It stood at the head of the long table like some gilded monument to her humiliation, an ornate, polished thing in deep brown and midnight blue, with a tray etched in tiny silver stars. She didn’t need to ask who it was for. Her cutie mark was carved into the backrest, delicately painted and shining beneath the crystal chandelier.

Her hooves stopped dead.

“No.”

Celestia blinked, mid-step, and turned back toward her. “What was that, Luna?”

Luna’s eyes widened, horror rising. Her ears flattened. “I said no! I will not sit in that ridiculous thing!”

“Luna,” Celestia said gently but firmly, “we’ve had a long day, you had to know this was coming. Come on now.”

Luna stomped a hoof, her legs trembling from pain and strain. “I am not a foal! You don’t get to put me in a high chair like some messy little idiot!”

Celestia’s eyes narrowed slightly, her voice low. “I’ll ask again. Please go to your seat.”

The burn in Luna’s skin, the humiliation, the ache of carrying her own filth all afternoon, all of it made her erupt into an emotional thunderstorm.

“I hate you!” Luna wailed, her voice cracking as it rose, raw and uneven. “You’re doing this on purpose! You want me to feel small and gross and awful, and it’s working! Are you happy now?!”

She stomped her hoof hard against the floor, a dull thud that echoed louder than it should have. Her wings flared clumsily, more for show than control, and her whole body shook with the force of it. Tears streamed freely down her face, mixing with the snot now running from her nose, her breaths hitching in wet, uneven gasps. “I won’t! I don’t care…I won’t do it! You can’t make me! You can’t, you can’t!”

“Enough,” Celestia said, her voice like steel.

Luna froze. She hadn’t heard that tone since… not since before the Nightmare.

“I warned you once. I will warn you once more,” Celestia said evenly. “Go. To. Your. Seat.”

Her magic pulsed softly around her horn, radiant but unfired. Luna trembled. Her mouth opened to speak, but nothing came out now only a hiccuping sob and the faint rustle of her diaper as she shifted in place.

She turned her head sharply, glaring down at the floor in defiance.

“I see,” Celestia said.

With calm precision, she lifted Luna in her magic firmly. Luna squirmed, legs flailing as her cheeks turned crimson.

“Put me down!” she shrieked, but Celestia didn’t respond.

She floated her sister over to her and lifting the hem of her dress, exposing her messy, sagging diaper.

A simple paddle appeared in the air beside Celestia.

Luna gasped. “Don’t you dare-”

“I warned you not to cause trouble” Celestia’s voice was clipped now, her gaze unreadable. “This time, it will only be three.”

The paddle struck. It was gentle, barely even a tap, but Luna wailed like she had been cut open.

The pain hit her like lightning, the swollen, rash-ridden skin amplifying the impact tenfold.

When the second swat landed, Luna’s whole body jerked in midair. Pain flared sharply across her skin, and a sob burst from her throat before she could even try to stop it.

She wailed, utterly undone. “P-please…Tia…no…don’t…!”

The third stroke came, firmer than before, and that was all it took. Her voice cracked open like a shell and a torrent of harsh, broken cries poured out of her.

The rash, raw and stinging, turned each swat into something unbearable. Fire bloomed across her skin, and all she could do was cry.

Celestia’s expression faltered, shifting from confusion to deeply concerned. The paddle vanished with a flick of her magic, and she reached for Luna, cradling her in her forelegs.

“Shh, Lulu, breathe…what’s wrong, sweetheart? Talk to me,” she urged, voice low, still baffled at how such a light punishment had unraveled her sister completely.

Luna clung to her like a foal, pressing her face into her sister’s neck as the sobs tore out of her. Her body shook with every hiccup, every gasp for air.

She was humiliated and she felt completely and utterly exposed. Her body burned with pain, her pride in tatters.

A part of Luna screamed for her to pull away from her sister, to spit venom, to resist. She should hate her, Luna thought, after something this awful she should hate her sister more than her worst enemy. And yet…the warmth of Celestia’s embrace, the soft cooing in her ear, the gentle hoof tracing slow circles on her back made her feel so many other emotions. She was hurting, and Celestia was soft, and her body wanted to lean into that comfort even as her mind reeled from the shame of it.

She buried her face deeper into Celestia’s mane, hating the part of her that couldn’t pull away.

A mare in a wet and messy diaper, bawling into her sister’s chest, it should feel alienating, but for the first time in a thousand years, Luna didn’t feel alone, and that terrified her.

Celestia’s hooves wrapped around her, warm and sure, rocking her gently. Each shuddering breath dragged through her like broken glass. She couldn’t stop crying. She hated that she couldn’t stop crying. She wasn’t sobbing anymore though, even if her tears kept coming in quiet waves, hitching on gasps she couldn’t control.

“It’s alright,” Celestia murmured, brushing a strand of her mane back. “You’re alright. You’re safe.”

But Luna didn’t feel safe. She felt exposed and small. The worst part wasn’t the diaper, or the mess, or even the spanking, it was how easy it had been for her to melt against her sister like a foal. Her body betrayed her again and again, but this, this felt like betrayal of the self.

She didn’t want to be held. But she couldn’t bring herself to let go.

I’m not alright, she wanted to say. You can’t just rock me and expect everything to be okay. You can’t do this to me and then try and comfort me like nothing’s wrong, like you aren’t the reason for all of this. But the words soured in her mouth before she could form them. She flinched again when Celestia shifted her weight.

The movement was gentle, but it made Luna recoil, her muscles tensing like a snapped wire. The rash flared under her again, a prickling, angry heat. She winced, unable to hide it.

Celestia’s gentle magic surrounded her, lifting her slightly and she realized that her sister was checking her diaper. Luna didn’t fight it. She didn’t have the energy or the fight left.

She couldn’t bear to meet Celestia’s eyes.

“Oh, Lulu…”Her voice—still warm, but tinged with something else, alarm, worry, disappointment?

Self hatred and negative thoughts raced into Luna’s head. You’re disgusting. You couldn’t even hold it together for a single afternoon. This is what you’ve become, a weeping little thing in your sister’s hooves, soiled and silent like an foal. No wonder she treats you like one.

Celestia shifted course immediately, standing with her magic cradling Luna close and heading toward a quiet alcove tucked just off the main hall.

“It’s alright,” Celestia said, still gentle but now with a firmer undertone. “Let’s get you taken care of.”

The process was simple. Celestia lay Luna down on a thick changing pad and made quick, careful work of undoing the tapes, and then her eyes were on Luna’s rash.

It was bad.

Red, inflamed, puffy around the edges, sensitive enough that Luna gave a full-body flinch when the first cool wipe touched her.

“I know,” she whispered. “I’m going to be as gentle as I can, alright?”

Luna nodded once, just barely to show that she’d heard her sister, but she wouldn’t meet Celestia’s eyes.

Luna felt completely raw. Not just her skin, though that throbbed miserably with every breath, but inside too. Her pride was crushed. Her dignity, whatever was left of it, hung by a thread. And now she was lying back, legs spread, while her sister changed her like a foal.

Luna stared at the ceiling, teeth gritted, trying to breathe through the cold sting of the wipes. Each one was soft, careful, and slow, but it didn’t matter.

Celestia worked with quiet precision. Cool balm. Soothing cream. The softness of powder. Luna could feel her muscles gradually relax, her legs no longer trembled so fiercely.

A new diaper was lifted beside her, a nagging voice in her head told her she should be fighting this, kicking, snarling, saying ‘no’ with whatever voice she had left, but she didn’t move. She just lay there, breath shallow, letting her sister wrap the fresh padding around her.

Once everything was finished, Celestia gently turned Luna’s head to face hers. “Luna, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me when something’s wrong.” Celestia said. “I’m not a mind reader, I won’t always know unless you say something.”

She hated how soft Celestia’s voice was, how calm she sounded, how reasonable. Hated that part of her still wanted to stay locked in her sister’s arms.

Celestia helped Luna sit up. The movement made her wince, and then again at the soft cloth brushing against her cheeks as her sister wiped away her tears.

“You don’t have to be strong every second,” Celestia said gently. “But you do have to speak up when you’re hurt.”

Luna’s ears flicked back. She gave a jerky little nod. Her eyes stayed on the floor.

Celestia lifted her up again. Luna didn’t resist. She was spent, too sore, too worn out to fight. Her head pressed lightly against Celestia’s shoulder, and despite everything in her, she let it stay there for the short journey back to the dining hall.

Celestia didn’t say a word. She just carried Luna over and set her down gently into the high chair. The buckle clicked into place around her middle, followed by another at her shoulder. The tray slid in, sealing her in completely.

Celestia moved to her place at the table as if nothing were out of the ordinary, but Luna couldn’t look at her. She just sat there, feeling every bit as small as Celestia seemed to think she was.

Luna didn’t argue this time as dinner was brought in quietly by a staff pony who gave a short bow and left without a word. Luna was given a divided plate of soft foods, bite-sized sandwiches, steamed vegetables, and little apple slices arranged into a star. Celestia had a bowl of lentil soup and bread.

They ate in silence.



The dining room had grown darker, the golden sunlight faded to be replaced by candlelight casting long shadows across the vaulted ceiling.

Luna lay slumped in the high chair, chin resting against the tray. Her eyes were half-lidded, heavy with fatigue, and her mane was disheveled and sticking to the side of her face. She didn’t speak or didn’t fidget, just sat there in a muted haze, exhausted.

“Alright, little one,” Celestia said gently, brushing a few strands of mane from Luna’s brow. “It’s time for bed.”

Luna blinked, then nodded slowly, the motion small and limp, more surrender than agreement. Any flicker of rebellion she’d held onto earlier had flickered out, drowned beneath exhaustion, shame, and the sheer weight of the day.

Celestia’s magic carefully unbuckled her and lifted her from the chair. Her legs hung loosely beneath her, and her head drooped against Celestia’s shoulder, the position was beginning to feel more and more natural.

The walk back through the castle halls was hushed, empty. A night breeze drifted in through the stained-glass windows, and the faint hum of distant crickets could be heard. Luna’s eyes fluttered as she was carried, her ears twitching gently with each breath of wind.

When they reached her bedroom, Celestia paused outside the door and looked down. “Do you want me to carry you?” she asked softly.

Luna blinked slowly up at her, then shook her head, just barely. “No,” she whispered. Her voice was paper-thin. “Just… put me down.”

Celestia nodded and set Luna on her feet before they entered and the door shut quietly behind them with a click of gold magic. The room was still dark, but the soft glow of the mural lights greeted them with the illusion of twilight. The mobile above the crib turned lazily on its own, little crescent moons and thestral wings swaying in a soundless circle.

Celestia helped her sister into the crib gently, Luna winced, the rash on her skin still sensitive, but she didn’t complain. She let Celestia pull the blanket over her and adjust the pillow beneath her head.

“Alright,” she said. “Time to sleep.”

Luna closed her eyes. She didn’t thank her. But her breathing evened out a little, and her shoulders relaxed.

Celestia bent down and kissed her forehead. “Sweet dreams, Lulu.” She said before leaving the room for her own chambers.

The door clicked shut.

And in the soft quiet of her enchanted nursery, wrapped in a thick diaper and the ache of her raw skin, Luna finally drifted to sleep, her last waking thought a strange mix of resentment…and reluctant comfort.