The Crimson Crown

As Clara helped me down from the table, I winced, rubbing my sore bottom through the thick diaper now taped snugly around my waist. My cheeks were still burning, both from the spanking and the sheer humiliation of the entire ordeal.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered again, glancing at Clara with wide, apologetic eyes. “I really am.”

Clara raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching in what looked suspiciously like a smirk. “You’ve got a long way to go before I’m ready to forgive you completely, little missy,” she said, her tone teasing but firm. “But that spanking? Let’s just say it helped.”

She pulled me to my feet, dusting off my shoulders in a mock maternal fashion before turning toward the wardrobe. Dorian, ever the opportunist, had already begun rummaging through it, pulling out an outfit that made my stomach drop.

“Ah, this will do nicely,” he said, holding up a pastel pink dress adorned with frilly lace and delicate bows. The matching bloomers he produced made my cheeks flush even deeper. “Perfect for our little Queen.”

“Dorian,” I groaned, eyeing the outfit with dismay. “Do I really have to?”

“Absolutely,” Clara interjected, snatching the dress from Dorian’s hands and turning back to me. “You’ve been a handful today, and I think it’s only fitting you’ve dressed the part.”

I sighed, too exhausted to argue, and allowed Clara to guide my arms into the puffy sleeves of the dress. As she buttoned up the back, she couldn’t resist adjusting the bows on my shoulders, humming softly to herself.

“Now,” she said, stepping back to admire her handiwork, “doesn’t that just suit you?”

Dorian crossed his arms, nodding appreciatively. “You’ve got quite the talent, Clara,” he said with a grin. “You handle Liliana like you’ve been dealing with naughty children your whole life.”

Clara chuckled, fluffing the hem of the dress before slipping the matching bloomers up my legs to cover my diaper fully. “Well,” she said, glancing at me with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, “I suppose I’ve had some practice. And I have to say, Your Grace, you’re shaping up to be quite the challenge.”

I crossed my arms, frowning as I shifted uncomfortably in the outfit. “I don’t know if I should feel complimented or insulted, and Clara, you don’t have to seem like you are enjoying this.”

Clara scoffed, grinning, “Oh, but I am; this is retribution for making me poop myself multiple times.” she said, leveling her gaze at me.

Dorian stepped closer, his hand brushing my cheek as he leaned in with a warm smile. “Take it as a compliment,” he said softly. “You’re doing wonderfully, Liliana. And with Clara’s help, I’m sure you’ll continue to impress.”

Despite the teasing and the embarrassment, his words brought a flicker of warmth to my chest. Clara may have enjoyed treating me like a child, and Dorian’s sense of humor wasn’t doing me any favors, but the bond we shared was undeniable. 

Dorian motioned toward a smaller door nestled into the corner of the room. “That leads to the attendant quarters,” he explained, his tone kind but firm. “It should be comfortable enough for you, Clara. There are probably fresh outfits in there as well.”

Clara glanced toward the door, hesitating for a moment before nodding. “Thank you,” she said softly, her fingers brushing the delicate lace of her towel. I’ll check it out,” she said, leaving through the door. You two have a good night,” she said with a smile, closing the door behind her.

Satisfied, Dorian turned his attention back to me, now dressed in nothing but a simple pair of underwear. I blushed as he moved toward the bed, reaching for something on the bedside table. When he turned back, I saw it—a pacifier, simple and unassuming but undeniably meant for me.

“Dorian,” I protested weakly as he climbed into bed, pulling me gently into his arms. “I don’t need that.”

“Maybe not,” he said with a sly smile, his voice low and soothing. “But it helps, doesn’t it? And after today, I think you deserve a little comfort.”

I frowned, my cheeks flushing as I stared at the pacifier in his hand. Exhaustion weighed heavy on me, my body aching from the day’s events. “I don’t know...” I murmured, my voice trailing off.

“Shh,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Just this once. For me.”

I hesitated, my pride warring with the undeniable pull of his tender insistence. Finally, with a sigh, I opened my mouth just enough for him to slip the pacifier in. The soft rubber pressed against my lips, and though I hated to admit it, the simple act was soothing.

“There’s my good girl,” he murmured, his arms tightening around me as he pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead.

The warmth of his embrace and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest lulled me into a sense of safety I hadn’t felt in what felt like ages. My eyes grew heavy, and I drifted off to sleep in his arms, the faintest trace of a smile playing at my lips despite myself. For now, at least, the world could wait.

The dream began in a haze; the edges of the world blurred and indistinct, but the sharp, cold floor beneath my bare feet was all too real. I looked down, confused to see myself in the plain servant’s dress I’d worn during those long days of scrubbing floors. My heart sank as I realized where I was—the castle’s servant halls, stretching endlessly ahead of me.

The sound of Mistress’s sharp voice echoed in the distance, and before I could even process the dread pooling in my stomach, two strong hands gripped my arms, tugging me forward. “You’ve been called,” a stern voice said behind me, faceless and unyielding. “No use delaying the inevitable.”

“No,” I whispered, panic rising in my chest as I stumbled forward, my steps faltering. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”

But the hands dragged me onward, their grip unrelenting as I was pulled toward Mistress’s office. The familiar door loomed larger than life, and the moment it creaked open, the air inside seemed to suffocate me with its heavy authority.

Mistress was there, seated at her desk, her eyes cold and calculating as they swept over me. “Ah, Liliana,” she said, her tone dripping with mock sympathy. “You’ve been causing trouble again, haven’t you?”

“I—I haven’t!” I stammered, struggling against the hands that shoved me forward. “I swear, Mistress, I didn’t mean to—”

“Quiet,” she snapped, cutting me off. Her gaze pinned me in place, and I felt my knees weaken as she stood, her imposing figure towering over me. “Disobedience, lack of discipline... it seems you’ve forgotten your place.”

My cheeks burned as the hands holding me down disappeared, leaving me trembling and vulnerable before her. She reached for the hem of my dress, lifting it with an air of calculated dominance. My diaper, thick and undeniably soaked, was exposed for her scrutiny.

“Tsk, tsk,” she said, shaking her head as she gave the front of my diaper a sharp pat. “Look at this. It seems you’re still nothing more than a helpless little girl.”

“No!” I cried, my voice breaking. “I’m not—please, Mistress!”

But she ignored me, her hands gripping my arm and pulling me toward the chair beside her desk. Before I could process what was happening, I was bent over her lap, my bare bottom exposed as my soaked diaper was peeled down. I squirmed helplessly, the sting of humiliation almost worse than the sharp smack that followed.

“Maybe this will teach you,” Mistress said, her voice calm and unyielding as she delivered each strike. “Maybe this will remind you who you truly are.”

Each smack echoed loudly in the small office, and my protests fell on deaf ears. I felt tears streaming down my face, the sharp sting on my skin matched only by the ache of shame in my chest.

When it was over, Mistress lifted me effortlessly, pulling my diaper back up with a deliberate, almost mocking tenderness. “There,” she said with a cruel smile. “All nice and secure. Now, get back to work.”

I opened my mouth to argue, to plead, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, I was dragged back out of the office, my legs trembling beneath me as the world around me dissolved into nothingness. The last thing I heard was Mistress’s laughter, echoing in my mind as I jolted awake, gasping for air in the safety of my chambers.

Dorian’s arm tightened around me, his warmth grounding me as I blinked away the lingering remnants of the dream. Even in the safety of the royal suite, the echoes of Mistress’s authority haunted me, a cruel reminder of how far I’d come—and how much further I had to go.

I must have stirred too much because Dorian shifted beside me, his warm arms tightening around my waist. His groggy voice broke the silence, soft and soothing. “Liliana? What’s wrong?”

I blinked rapidly, trying to banish the lingering shadows of the dream. My cheeks were damp, and I hadn’t even realized I’d been crying. “It’s nothing,” I whispered, my voice shaky. “Just a bad dream.”

Dorian sat up slightly, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair from my face. “You’re safe,” he murmured, his tone steady and reassuring. He reached for the pacifier that had slipped from my lips during the night, holding it out to me. “Here,” he said softly. “It helps.”

I hesitated for only a moment before allowing him to press it back between my lips. The familiar comfort of the pacifier settled me somewhat, and I exhaled shakily as he pulled me closer.

“You’re safe,” he repeated, his hand stroking soothing circles along my back. “You’re here with me. Nothing can hurt you now.”

I buried my face against his chest, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat anchor me. His embrace was firm yet gentle, his warmth enveloping me like a shield against the remnants of the nightmare. I clung to him, my fingers curling into his shirt as I tried to push the memory of Mistress’s cold gaze and cruel laughter from my mind.

Dorian pressed a kiss to the top of my head, his voice low and comforting. “I’ve got you, Liliana. You’re safe. Just breathe.”

I let myself melt into his hold, the tension in my body easing with every stroke of his hand along my back. The pacifier bobbed slightly as I suckled it unconsciously, a faint reminder of the tender care he always provided. Slowly, the fear and shame from the dream gave way to the profound sense of security his presence offered.

Nestled against Dorian, his arms wrapped protectively around me, I allowed myself to relax truly. The weight of the day ahead loomed, but at this moment, I was safe.

The next time I stirred awake, it was to the soft rustling of fabric. Blinking against the early morning light filtering through the curtains, I turned my head to see Clara by the wardrobe, carefully pulling out an outfit. At first, my tired mind barely registered the faint ache in my stomach, but as I stretched, the cramping in my tummy made itself known with an unmistakable urgency.

Dorian was still sleeping soundly beside me, his arm loosely draped over my waist. Gently, I shifted out from under him, careful not to wake him, as I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. My feet touched the cool floor, and I stood, my movements slow and deliberate.

"Where do you think you're going?" Clara's voice cut through the silence, startling me. She turned toward me, an amused smirk tugging at her lips as she held up the dress she’d picked for me.

"I... need to use the bathroom," I said hesitantly, glancing over my shoulder at her.

Clara raised an eyebrow, setting the dress down and crossing her arms. “The bathroom? Really?” She tilted her head, her tone carrying a hint of playful mockery. “You didn’t seem to have an issue using your diaper when we were scrubbing floors, Your Majesty. Why should today be any different?”

I froze, a flush of embarrassment creeping up my neck. “Clara, that was different,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “We were pretending to be servants. I had no choice.”

“Oh, you had a choice,” she said, stepping closer, her smirk growing. “You just chose to make me do it too, remember? And now that we’re back in the castle, you think that suddenly changes?”

I opened my mouth to argue, but the insistent cramp in my stomach left me at a loss for words. Clara’s eyes gleamed with mischief as she folded her arms, watching me squirm. “Go on, Liliana,” she said, her tone almost sing-song. “You were so willing to do it before. Don’t let me stop you now.”

I felt my cheeks burn as I clenched my fists at my sides, the pressure in my tummy building. “Clara, this is ridiculous—”

“It’s fair,” she interrupted smoothly. “You made me do it, and now it’s your turn. Consider it a lesson in humility, Your Grace.”

My protest died on my lips as another cramp hit, leaving me gasping. Clara’s expression softened for just a moment, but her stance remained firm. “Go on,” she said, her voice gentler but no less insistent. “It’s not like I’m going to tell anyone. Dorian’s still asleep, and it’s just the two of us.”

I bit my lip, shame flooding me as I realized I couldn’t hold out any longer. My body trembled slightly as I gave in, the act completely out of my control. I felt the warmth spread through the seat of my diaper; the soft crinkling muffled as it expanded to accommodate the mess. The mortification was unbearable, my cheeks burning hotter than ever as Clara stood there, watching me.

When it was over, I couldn’t bring myself to look at her. My eyes stayed glued to the floor, my hands fidgeting nervously at my sides. “Happy now?” I muttered, my voice barely audible.

Clara stepped forward, her hand gently resting on my shoulder. “A little,” she admitted with a chuckle. “But don’t worry, Liliana. I won’t hold it over you... for too long.”

Her teasing tone grated on my nerves, but when I finally dared to glance up at her, I saw a glimmer of understanding in her eyes. She gave my shoulder a small squeeze before stepping back toward the wardrobe, leaving me to stew in my embarrassment.

“Well,” Clara said over her shoulder, her tone suddenly brisk. “We’d better get you cleaned up before Dorian wakes up. I doubt he’d appreciate the smell.”

As Clara led me over to the changing table, her hands firmly but gently guiding me, she glanced down at my diaper with a faint smirk. “Well, Liliana,” she said, her tone half-teasing, half-serious, “do you need to pee as well? Might as well get it over with now, so we’re not doing this twice.”

I flushed, my cheeks burning as I avoided her gaze. The truth was, I did still need to go. The pressure was faint, but it was there, and Clara’s expectant expression left me with no room to deny it. Reluctantly, I let out a shaky breath and nodded, feeling the warmth spread through the front of my diaper as I gave in.

Clara shook her head in mock disbelief, her hands on her hips. “I still can’t believe they do this to their Queen,” she muttered, motioning for me to lie down on the changing table. “But I have to admit,” she added with a small chuckle, “this is... oddly satisfying.”

I climbed onto the padded surface, the crinkle of my diaper loud in the quiet room, and lay back as Clara began the familiar process of untapping it. Her movements were deft and efficient, but there was a mischievous glint in her eye as she worked. “Getting out some revenge for Mistress?” I asked, my voice soft but not unkind.

“Maybe,” Clara admitted with a sheepish smile, carefully wiping me clean. “But I think we both know you had this coming.” She paused, her expression softening. “Honestly, Liliana, I do genuinely enjoy spending time with you. This... this is just me venting a little frustration. I hope you don’t take it personally.”

I met her gaze, my embarrassment easing slightly at the sincerity in her voice. “I suppose I deserve it,” I murmured, managing a small smile. “But you don’t have to be my attendant, you know. If this is too much...”

Clara interrupted me with a soft laugh, shaking her head as she reached for a fresh diaper. “Oh, don’t even start. I meant what I said—I enjoy being with you. This is just part of the package, and honestly? I’ve handled worse.” She fastened the tapes securely, giving the front of the diaper a light pat before helping me sit up. “Apology accepted, though,” she added with a grin. “For now.”

It was then that I noticed Clara’s new dress, and my breath caught. It was different from the plain servant’s garb she’d worn before. This one was elegant yet practical, a soft cream color with delicate gold embroidery tracing along the hem and cuffs. The bodice was fitted, accentuating her figure without being ostentatious, and the flowing skirt ended just above her ankles, allowing for easy movement. A small crimson sash tied neatly at her waist completed the look, a subtle nod to the kingdom’s colors.

“You’re wearing... one of the attendants’ dresses,” I said, my voice filled with surprise.

Clara looked down at herself, smoothing the fabric with a hint of pride. “I guess I am,” she said with a smile. “Dorian mentioned it last night, and I found it in the wardrobe this morning. It’s a bit more flattering than the servant’s dress, don’t you think?”

I nodded, a genuine smile spreading across my face. “It suits you,” I said softly. “You look... regal.”

Clara laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Regal? Hardly. But thank you, Liliana. Now, let’s get you dressed before Dorian wakes up.”

I nodded; as much as I was humiliated by Clara’s newfound dedication to her role, I knew she did it in good spirits, mostly. If there was anyone I could trust with my secrets, it was certainly her. We had been through hell and back, and whatever lay before us, I knew I wanted her by my side.