The Crimson Crown

I woke to the sounds of camp breaking. I was alone in bed, tucked in snuggly, Dorian busying himself around the tent as my attendants packed. I yawned, sitting up, drawing the covers around my naked chest, “What’s going on?” I asked.

“We are leaving, my princess.” Dorian said with a smile, buttoning up his jacket, “Our work in this town is done; we are heading to the next.”

“The next? How many towns are there?” I asked.

“We are visiting two more; both should only take a few days, and then we will return home,” Dorian said, pulling back the covers and making me blush as he checked my diaper. 

My diaper was still dry, Dorian having changed me before we went to sleep. If he was disappointed with what he found, Dorian didn’t que me in on it. “You need to get ready; we will be leaving soon,” Dorian said as Moriss stepped up to me. 

“Your grace,” she said with a small dip of the head, her hands expertly checking my diaper as well as she helped me stand.

I blushed at the treatment, “I’m fine.” I whined, “I don’t need a change, geez.” 

Both girls smiled and began helping me dress. This outfit was similar to the traveling dress I had worn the day prior but was a pale yellow with white rrosesinstead of daisies. Once again, I was dressed in a cute outfit, much to my grumbles, as the camp around me slowly came down. Once I was dressed, Dorian led me from the tent and toward our carriage, sitting unhitched in the yard. An attendant swooped in as we left, holding an umbrella over us as we walked, the light fall of rain still cascading over the region. 

We climbed aboard, the rest of camp nearly packed and ready, horses saddled and bags stowed. Our tent came down in a flurry of cloth and was swiftly folded, wrapped, and tied into place in a wagon. From the moment the camp started packing to when we were rolling out, it was less than an hour. These men were clearly practiced, I would have never been able to achieve such punctuality myself, and thankfully, I didn’t need to.

Once again, Dorian and I were alone in the carriage, riding through the rain, the sound of the carriage, rain, and our escort a comforting rhythm as we traveled. I had grown hungry, having not eaten since breakfast, and channeling as much as we had, had taken it’s toll on me. Dorian ate himself cheese, crackers, and travel rations and then turned his attention to me with a fresh bottle. He had at least offered some of his snacks to me, although they were stale and bland, before forcing me to drink the bottle. I still hated the baby treatment, and I doubted I would ever grow accustomed to it.

That said, the feeling of being nestled in his arms, held as I was, his hand stroking my hair as I nursed, was comforting and relaxing. For all his oddities and unique interests, Dorian made certain I felt loved and cared for the entire time. Each time I was forced to endure more belittling treatment, Dorian was there to shower me with love and attention. It made for a unique experience. As much as I hated the treatment, I found myself looking forward to it at times because I knew Dorian would take care of me. Even when he wasn’t treating me like a baby, he loved me. I knew it, but there was something special about how he cared for me during those moments. 

As before, the bottle I was fed was large and filled with that thick, sweet, creamy liquid. It didn’t taste bad; in fact, I almost preferred the flavor over the travel rations I had tried, but the formula was beginning to have a profound impact on my digestion. Having been mostly on a liquid diet, each time I needed to poop, it became easier and easier. On one hand, I hated it. I hated having to poop my diapers; I hated the feeling and the disgusting smell that came along with it. Dorian was always quick to change me, but those brief moments I was stuck in them sucked. He did his best to quell my feelings, to make me feel good, but it was a tall order. 

On the other hand, as much as it sucked, I was thankful in a way. I knew as long as I was drinking that storming formula, I wouldn’t have to worry about getting another enema or a laxative. I shuttered at the memory; fear of whatever a laxative would entail kept me regular and not fighting to go. Dorian was understanding, thankfully, of my feelings. I would inform him each time I needed to go, and he would be ‘on standby’ for when it happened. The entire process seemed like an exercise in futility, but Dorian didn’t seem to mind. The other downside to the formula was the fact that I had already messed twice in a single day, whereas before, I would only once a day.

I had asked Dorian about that and hoped that I would be able to return to solid foods regularly soon; I hated being stuck on formula. He had shrugged and told me as long as I didn’t like being on bottles, Father would ensure I stayed on them. As much as I didn’t like them, he explained I would have to accept them as a part of my new identity. I had sighed, crestfallen at the explanation, but Dorian seemed to think there was more to it than that. Dorian had told me that bottles were only the beginning, although he declined to answer why that was or what it would lead to.

The whole experience left me nervous and uncertain of what the future would hold. What was this crazy family planning for me next? I was certain I wouldn’t like it, given their past, but I was clueless as to how to prevent it or stop it, whatever it may be. To that end, I would live day by day, taking things as they came. 

“Come on, even you have to admit that cleaning up messes suck.” I told Dorian, poking him in the side, “Get me some real food, please.”

Dorian chuckled, deflecting my next poke, “I don’t mind it that much; I had to practice with my Mother; that was odd. You, however, are beautiful and adorable.” 

I blushed, grinning and rolling my eyes, “You know what would make me more beautiful and adorable?” I asked, “Not having to shit myself.”

Dorian grinned a playful smile, “But I think it adds to the adorableness!” he said, kissing my cheek. “Besides, until we can take the throne, you are trapped doing so. Might as well make the most of it.”

“Make the most of it?” I asked, “Oh come on, Dorian, you can’t expect me to think this is a blessing in any way, shape or form.”

“Have you thought about how you would relieve yourself on this voyage?” Dorian asked, raising an eyebrow.

His comment gave me pause; I truly hadn’t. I had been so preoccupied with my concerns that I hadn’t thought about how using the bathroom would work.

“See now; the men can stand and take a piss or squat behind a tree to do their business; no one minds them. But you, my Princess, you can’t be allowed to wander off into the woods, and it would be utterly disgraceful for you to follow suit of the men in camp.” Dorian said, his finger playfully dancing upon my thigh.

I felt a fresh crimson glow warm my cheeks at the idea of having to squat behind a tree to do my business, guards awkwardly standing nearby to guard me. Storms, that would be awful! 

“What about you?” I asked, deflecting.

“Me? I’m a man and a soldier. The men know it, so no one pays me any mind. It’s expected and even shows me to be more manly, more as a soldier like them.” Dorian said with a shrug, “You? You’re a pretty princess. To them, you never need to go, you never need to shit, and you fart rainbows and lucky clovers.”

“You are painfully aware of the fact that I do neither of those things,” I said with an amused expression.

“Indeed.” Dorian smirked, “But to them, you do. To them, women, especially royals, are never seen as weak or vulnerable. Doing something as un-princess like as shitting behind a tree, well, that’s unthinkable.”

“Fine, I see your point.” I said, crossing my arms and sitting back, “That doesn’t excuse being forced into diapers full time. Surely there are other ways; what do the queens of other nations do?” I asked.

“They either don’t travel, or they have a private privy set up for them, or they use a chamber pot in their carriage to be taken care of by an attendant when they stop,” Dorian replied with a smirk.

“See?!” I exclaimed, sitting up, “So we could! So, let’s do that instead and get me out of these things.” I didn’t truly expect Dorian to respond positively, and he didn’t, but I had a moment of hope.

The back of Dorian’s hand went to his forehead as he wilted, “Oh, but alas, we forgot both back in the kingdom! Whatever shall we do!” he teased, a sparkle in his eye.

I glowered at him, but he chuckled and pulled me into his lap, “Not funny.” I said, shaking my head, “Surely a kingdom as well equipped as ours would have had the foresight to pack a chamber pot, at least.”

“Oh, I’m sure, but those are gross and icky and very non-princess-like.” Dorian teased.

“And these things are?!” I asked, gesturing to my crotch.

Dorian grinned, pulling my dress up, revealing the pink diaper I was wearing, a cartoon princess character printed on the front, “I mean, come on.” he said, gesturing toward the character, “It’s LITERALLY printed on your diaper!” 

I groaned, leaning back against the seat as he laughed, pulling me into his arms. “I’m sorry, my princess; I don’t mean to make fun of you, but you know as well as I that your undergarment choice is well and truly above either of us. Genuinely, if I could, I’d let you wear normal underwear.”

I sat up, “Really? You would? After all that talk about how much you liked me in these?”

He nodded, “Of course. I will not lie, my princess; I do love you in them; I think you are adorable, I think you are cute and hot; diapers take that all up a notch for me. That being said, your happiness is more important to me than my desires. If you truly wanted to wear something else, then I wouldn’t stand in your way.”

I was beyond surprised to hear that admission. I had thought that even without the rule of the king, Dorian would enforce his desires upon me, taking after his father. I felt a pang of guilt at the thought of the days I had spent with the man; nothing about him told me he would force me to do anything. At the same time, he was the person who was forcing me to wear and use diapers, as well as drink from bottles and nurse pacifiers. I knew deep down it wasn’t truly him; it was the king, but it was hard to differentiate the two when the only person I saw was him. I glanced up at Dorian, who was looking away, seeming sad, almost forlorn at his admission.

I narrowed my eyes, “You’re trying to guilt trip me.” I chastised, and Dorian turned his gaze to mine, his lips pouting and his eyes glistening with tears, a puppy dog stare. 

“Me? Never.” Dorian sniffled.

I gave him a flat star, and he broke, grinning, “I can’t hide anything from you.” he chuckled, embracing me.

I couldn’t help but grin as well, shaking my head, “It helps when you are easy to read.” I chuckle, “You’ve spent too much time with your father.”

“Oh, absolutely.” Dorian said, “Far too much time with him. I promise to do better than him and to learn from my mistakes. I know I will not be perfect for you, my princess, but I will try.”

“Given who raised you,” I said, “I’ll give you a pass on some stuff. But, I swear, husband, if you start talking over me and belittling me or treating me like a second-class citizen, I will bring the wrath of the Four Winds down upon you.” I said sternly, wagging a finger.

“Please do, I would deserve it.” Dorian said, chuckling, “That said, please don’t hold it against me when I do those things for the sake of Father. I promise that isn’t how I feel, but we must keep up appearances for him. I will try to leave you behind while I deal with him.”

“Thanks.” I mumbled, “I’ll try not to hold it against you, but no promises. You’ll probably have to make it up to me on those days.”

“Make it up to you, huh?” He asked with a sly grin, “Making demands? Of your prince? I will think about that. I might be able to meet your demands.” 

“You better.” I replied with a grin, “My muscles could always use a massage.”

“Really now, they do?” Dorian asked, his hands going to my shoulders, his fingers working my muscles there. 

I moaned, relaxing into him. I sat on his lap, our chests together and my head resting on his shoulder as he massaged me. “Don’t you dare stop?” I moaned. 

Dorian chuckled, his fingers continuing for some time as we rolled down the packed earth road. We didn’t arrive at the next village until the sun had already set, the last remnants of sunlight cresting the horizon before it disappeared completely. Dorian had lit the lanterns in the carriage, their flickering orange glow comforting in the cool embrace of night. I pulled my cardigan in around my shoulders, and Dorian held me close as we arrived at our camping grounds for the night. 

The escort of horses and men around us held lanterns affixed to long poles, lighting our way as we broke for camp. As it had last night, the army’s efficiency had tents and fire set within minutes. Dorian helped me down from the carriage and led me inside our tent. Had it not been for the long ride, I would have sworn we hadn’t moved at all. The insides of the tent, while not in identical locations, were nearly the same and made for a more homey feel. 

Our attendants, having finished setting the tent, began busying themselves heating the water for our bath. I didn’t complain, even with Dorian’s massaging hands; my body was tense and sore from the long carriage ride, and that was in a padded carriage! I could only imagine how the soldiers felt hiking the whole way or riding horseback. Dorian had explained that horseback wasn’t as easy as it seemed, taking many core muscles to keep yourself upright, and it would leave you sore after along day. I couldn’t see it, though; how would riding a horse make you sore? The horse, after all, was the one doing all the walking!

I took Dorian’s word for it though, and as I was led to the bathing chamber, Dorian stripped me to the princess diaper himself. Dorian knelt before me, his hands feeling my diaper, and I blushed, especially as he kissed it, “I’m proud of you, my princess.” he said, his fingers undoing the tabs of my diaper and slowly letting it fall. “I know it hasn’t been easy for you, accepting your place here, but you have done so well.”

Before I realized what was happening, his head was between my legs; his lips pressed to my sex as his tongue pushed in. I gasped and felt my legs go weak, my fingers intertwining themselves in his hair as his hand reached up and grabbed my rear, squeezing my cheek. “You are a good girl, my princess. I’m proud of you, and I want you to know how special I think you are; I want to reward you,” he said. With that proclamation, I rode his face to orgasm.