"I am not wearing diapers and that is final." You say with your arms crossed.
"You have no say in the matter." she says. "You will wear diapers."
"Yeah?:" you ask. "How are you going to make me?"
She answers your question by pressing a button on the wall.
Moments later a stewardess arrives. "Do you require assistance?"
"Princess Susan is refusing to cooperate." She explains. "I think I will need some help getting her into her diapers."
"Yes ma'am." She stewardess leaves you and the Queen to stare at each other in silence until she returns, with three other stewardesses.
They begin undressing you, despite your struggles, and soon have you naked.
"You can't do this to me." You shout, covering your crotch and chest with your hands.
The women ignore your complaints as they hold you still.
Queen Charlotte goes to the drawer and removes what looks like a large white towel. It becomes obvious as she starts folding it that it is, in fact, a cloth diaper. "I was going to put you in a disposable." she explains. "But this is how we deal to children who think they are too big for diapers."
The stewardesses lay you down on the bed, on top of the diaper. Queen Charlotte then generously coats your bottom and crotch with baby powder before bringing the front and sides of the diaper up tight around you. She fastens them with a pair of large safety pins and then goes back to the drawer.
She returns with a pair of light-blue plastic panties. They have a satin outer cover and rows of ruffles across the bottom.
She slides the plastic panties up your legs and over your thickly padded bottom. Once they are in place you hear a click.
"All done." She informs the stewardesses. "Thank you for your assistance."
The women release you and leave the room. You immediately start to struggle with the plastic pants, to try to remove them and the diaper.
"You wont be getting out of those panties without this." Queen Charlotte holds up a small box. "They have a magnetically activated lock which can only be removed with this."
Defeated, you allow her to put you in a matching bra and pull the dress on over your head. At least it covers the diaper. "Sit down." She directs you, retrieving a pair of shiny black flat shoes from the wardrobe. She slides your feet into them, then fastens the buckle.
"I'll send the stylist in soon to fix your hair." she informs you, leaving.
You examine your reflection in the full-length mirror. You look rather immature. The dress is a very childish design and the shoes are exactly like a little girl would wear. You guess it makes sense. The thick padding around your bottom reminds you that Calonia isn't big on growing up fast.
You try to get comfortable on the bed to watch TV but the diaper forces your legs apart. "How is a princess supposed to sit ladylike in this?" You ask yourself.
Soon the stylist comes in. She has you sit at the dressing table and begins brushing your hair.
She fusses with your hair for ages, trying different looks. It's fun but you feel the increasing need to use the toilet. Actually, you correct yourself, use your diaper. If the Queen gets her way you won't be using a toilet for the next few years.
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