Crinklestuck

Day 6

I woke up with determination to finally fix all this. After once again drenching the towels while warming up my diaper, I got out of bed and woke Spike up. He was disgruntled for having to wake up so soon, and theatrically disgusted by my smell, but after explaining last night's discovery in as few words as possible and asking him to go get Discord for me, he was off to do so.
Too excited to think, I was just pacing in the main hall waiting for their return, which happened a mere fifteen minutes later. Upon seeing Discord, I became furious. I shouted at him for pulling such a mean and disgusting prank on me, and told him to fix it right away. He gave me an innocent look and told me it was not a prank, and that he could prove it. His proof was in his pocket: he pulled Pinkie Pie out from it, who confirmed it not being a prank. She in fact asked Discord to make diapers like this for her, and she gave me one of these because she thought I would want to have as much fun with it as she does.
Disregarding the rather... interesting fact that one of my closest friends apparently found this sort of thing fun, too, Pinkie's assumption that I would want to soil myself repeatedly seemed an unusually large leap of logic, even for her. Doing my best to restrain the curiosity I felt sure was in my voice, I asked her to explain further.
She said, and I quote; "Well, everypony in the know knows I know things about padding other ponies don't know because they don't want to know, and I figured you knew 'cause you said you needed one for personal reasons and nopony ever comes out and asks for a diaper like that unless they know. So I thought you knew I knew, and what else could I do but give you the best diaper I had? I just wanted you to have fun!"
I wanted to tell her that despite the rough start I had lots of fun, but I could not. Not with Discord hovering right there.
Pinkie proceeded to explain that my 'fun' could not be cut short by either of them, not even Discord - the only way a diaper like this would come off was a "maternal figure" changing me out of it. When I asked if it had to be my actual mom, they said "either that, or somepony you see as a mother," and Discord added "so like, Celestia maybe?" To my question of why did Pinkie not tell me about that particular detail, she said she had been so happy I was interested in diapers too that she had gone and completely forgotten to tell me and said she was sorry so many times I eventually had to ask her to stop apologizing. Again, I felt bad not telling the whole truth, but there would be plenty of time for that later in a more private setting.
When all that was settled, I sent them both home. I needed a moment to think about things.
I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. I had to either call my mom or Princess Celestia to help me out of this predicament. Neither seemed like a good choice, so I asked Spike what I should do. He explained that mom actually saw me in diapers looking probably worse than this when I was a foal, but she would ask all sorts of indiscreet questions about how I got into such a state in the first place. The Princess on the other hoof only saw me twice in nighttime pullups, but she would definitely be more understanding and less intrusive than mom. He had valid points, and just from these few pros and cons I would choose Princess Celestia. But what would she think of me? It was what worried me the most. Spike comforted me by saying that she would realize it was not really my choice, or fault, that I ended up like this, and that seemed to get me make up my mind.
Appendix #2: Letter to the Princess
"Dear Princess Celestia,
I am writing to you from a situation I have accidentally found myself in. According to my sources, you are the only pony who can help me. I will explain in person on your arrival, which I hope can come through sooner than later. Please tell as few ponies as possible.
Forever your faithful student,
Princess Twilight Sparkle
p.s. For your own sake, bring a gas mask or a nose clip. Spike"
I only learned about the post script after the message was sent and scolded Spike for adding it, but he defended himself saying we would not want to destroy the royal nostrils and I was inclined to agree. And so, we waited.
But not for long. Soon enough - an hour and six minutes later, during which I was forced to relieve myself again in the bathtub - she arrived, accompanied by two royal guards and nopony else. I was waiting in my room and saw them from the window, while Spike went to greet them. Anxiety rose and my heart was pounding loud enough that I could not even hear her hoofsteps on the corridor as she approached.
She knocked gently on the door and I waddled there to let her in. I did not dare look her in the eyes, but I could feel her gaze taking my image in: smelly, unwashed, wearing a diaper so soaked it hung down to my knees.
I felt miserable. I wanted to cry. I might have been crying, actually, right until she gently touched my chin and made me look up. She was smiling, and it was the most gentle, caring smile I have ever saw on her. I tried to say something, but my throat was throbbing. She needed no words. She rustled my already messy mane and told me everything was going to be fine. She was here now.
After instructing the guards to stay behind, she walked with me to the bathroom and eased me into the tub. Like she had done it a hundred times before, she pulled the tapes off with a short flick of golden magic, skillfully rolled the diaper up into a giant white ball, and put it in the trash.
I believe she cast a spell on the trash can, but I cannot be sure. All I know for sure is that as she did it, much of the rank smell in the bathroom lifted. I felt a cool breeze on my rashy skin for the first time in that terrible week.
I began thanking her, was on the verge of saying she could leave so I could give myself a proper shower - but she clucked her tongue at me and turned the water on herself. It came out warm, at the perfect temperature. She washed off the remnants still clinging to my fur, then shampooed the area once, then twice. The shampoo didn't sting my rashes. I tried to tell her this was too much, but she told me I had asked for her help, asked her to clean me up, and so that was exactly what she was doing. Then she asked me to turn around so she could wash the lather off.
I told myself I was going to be honest, so I will be honest. I enjoyed being washed, and the fact it was Celestia washing me made it all the better. Ever since I was little she has been my teacher, my mentor, and now looking back, I cannot help but see her as my second mother. Why did I never see her in this light before? This thought deserves further study.
As it is, by the time the bath came to an end, I found myself wondering just what made her so good at this sort of thing, washing other ponies. From the way she handled me, the gentleness, the practiced motions, I might as well have been a foal in her care. Perhaps this too deserves further study.
While drying my fur with a towel, she playfully asked if I needed a clean diaper and I could not help but blush. Despite how torturing the first half of my week felt, after all I went through, I almost said yes right there and then. Instead I managed to just laugh nervously. I hope I did not give myself away too easily.
She asked if there was anything else I needed, but I was so lost in thought I barely even registered the question. After my "no, thank you," she smiled and gave me a warm hug. Before she left, she made me promise to call her sooner if I end up in something like this again. Then off she went, leaving me with a lot of questions to ponder.
For the first time in many days, I went to sleep without towels in my bed and crinkling between my flanks. I could hardly believe this whole ordeal was finally over - but I also could not believe how much I was anticipating doing it again.