Chapter One: Padded Princess

	The sun over the plains was harsh, and the journey ahead of the caravan was to be long and treacherous. At least, that was what Mother and Father told me to encourage me to leave before the sun was up, so that we could slowly adapt to the searing heat of day as opposed to throwing ourselves into the veritable oven right off the bat. As a result, I found myself dozing off in the back of our carriage, sprawled in the most unladylike fashion imaginable in the backseat as the ride carried on.
	"Lady Marigold? Are you well, or should I call for the physician?"
	I sat up, unwilling to stand half due to laziness and half due to the unreasonably thick dress I was required to wear for the journey. "I'm fine, I'm fine," I mumbled before flopping back down.
	My reply either went unheard or unneeded, as a head turned from the second row of seats to look back at me. Miss Glenshire was staring daggers at me, eyes focused not on my face but on my unmentionables that were half visible underneath my dress, the hem having ridden up considerably from my motions. Her look told me she expected me to fix it myself, and I knew the old bag would keep up that glare until I did.
	Old was probably a bit spiteful to call her, to be fair. She couldn't be much older than her late thirties, but it was that stern, schoolteacher sort of look that had drove early lines of age into her otherwise mildly attractive features. She reminded me of my mother, despite being a dozen or so years her junior, but that may have been because it was her job. She'd been my caretaker since youth, after all, the permanent nanny who attended to all the little things dear old Mom was far too busy to handle, what with being the queen and all.
	You'd think having my mother as the queen would allow me the treatment of a princess, but to think that you'd have to have not met this unyielding shrew of a woman. I pulled my dress down so that my underwear was no longer on display, but that annoying glare remained. We both maintained our positions for a few moments before she turned to one of the serving girls sitting beside her. "Attend to the young lady's dress, if you please."
	The young girl, maybe about two years younger than myself, nodded and stood, steadying herself for the bumping of the carriage ride. "Right away, Miss Glenshire," she said, managing a polite bow before she made her way to the back seat. I had no quarrel with her, of course, so I allowed her to smooth out my dress without incident. She stepped back, bowed politely once more, and returned to her station.
	In my defense, keeping my damn underwear in line was a pain in the ass. It was, by its very nature, of the highly visible variety. It was thick, padded, and meant for the purpose of absorbing any leaks and accidents that came its way. Some might call it a "diaper," though I loathed to use the term. It was a foreign, ugly, dirty word that I had to wring off of my tongue in shame, as bladder problems were not something most sixteen year olds were proud to admit.
	But, I had to admit, it did have its perks. The diaper was rather thick, creating a nice cushion that served just a touch better than the seat I was subjected to during our rough ride. The path we traveled along was passable, but I could feel my body bump up with every pothole our carriage passed over. I could only imagine how sore I'd be without my extra padding. Of course, it would quickly go from boon to anathema in the event of an accident. The same diaper protecting me from the jostling of the road would be squishing and squelching with whatever the hell my body decided to fill it with.
	As appealing as the prospect of stewing in my piss for the rest of the afternoon was, even worse was the thought of having to admit anything of that nature to my loving caretaker. Compared to that, the itch of urine running down my legs didn't seem so bad at all.
	"Honestly, Millia. You could stand to act in a manner more befitting of your status," said Miss Glenshire.
	I responded by pretending not to hear her little quip, which she unfortunately took as an invitation to continue.
	"Should you embarrass your country at the wedding, your parents will be most upset. They're hoping, bless their hearts, that some fine young man will catch your eye and sweep you off your feet."
	I waved my hand carelessly in her direction. "I'm only sixteen. I have forever to think about that."
	She rolled her eyes so hard I thought they were going to topple right out of their sockets. She turned back towards the front, apparently too ashamed to even look at me at this point, and let out a long sigh. "I thought like that too, once," she said. "When I was young and beautiful. And then I began working for the royal family, and I found my time dwindling down to just about nothing. Next thing I knew I was old and stale, like a solstice cake a month too late."
	"Sir Henry had his eye on you, you know," I said. "You should just make a move on him."
	"Sir Henry was eaten by a dragon a year ago, Millia."
	So he was. I'd forgotten that. "How about the elven ambassador's bodyguard? He's cute, and I've heard rumors about him."
	"I'd prefer to have my life not as the equivalent of an elven one night stand."
	"Sebastian? Father's attendant?"
	"Heavens, no! He's too old."
	I fell back down onto the blanket. "See? Your problem is you're too picky. 'Oh, he's too old. Oh, he's an elf. Oh, he's been through the intestines of a dragon.'"
	Miss Glenshire went red in the face and began a response, but her attention was diverted by the fact that the carriage was no longer moving. "I will worry about my personal life. You, Millia, should worry about remaining dry for the remainder of our journey." She stood, smoothed out her skirt, and climbed out the door to check on what had impeded our progress, leaving me and my pair of servants to wait.
	Really, Miss Glenshire's prodigious lack of marriage prospects was doubtlessly due to her personality, if only because it certainly couldn't be her body. She had a motherly, mature figure that fit the ideal almost perfectly. Her legs were slender that expanded into wide hips, that again curved around to a tiny middle, and once again inflated into a pair of enormous breasts. She was shaped like you could affix a corset on her perfectly without even touching her skin, and I knew for a fact both men and women were either craving or coveting that form of hers.
	By contrast, I felt as if I utterly lacked every one of those features. From my anvil of a chest right down to my barely-existent hips, my body saw fit to follow the lead of my gods-damned underwear. Was it fate? As I had the pleasure of watching every other noble girl grow lovely mounds of breasts, sumptuous posteriors you could balance a mug on, and curved hips that a man knew would bear strong, healthy children to carry on their family names, the only thing I could count on to grow was my dependency on absorbent underwear.
	At the very least I had my nobility and personality to fall back upon. As for Miss Glenshire, she was simply too stern, too strict, and utterly focused on performing her duties to pay any mind to petty concerns such as finding a suitable husband. It was entirely her damn fault, of course, but that didn't stop her from complaining about it at any opportunity she got.
	On the subject of that hourglass of a woman, I realized she'd been gone for a while, now. I looked at the serving girls, still sitting quietly, though occasionally fidgeting uncomfortably.
	"So, if she stepped outside and keeled over, which of you gets to be in charge?" I asked, if only to break the tension. It occurred to me that one of them was probably on backup diaper changing duty, although I was more than capable of doing it myself. It was one of those little things that Miss Glenshire insisted should be done for me, which only resulted in more and more people learning of my secret. I doubt there was a single person in the castle who didn't know that the princess had a padded rear, all said and done, between the serving girls who attended to my diaper, to the kitchen workers instructed not to allow me to drink before bed, and even those in the laundry who had to deal with my occasionally wet sheets.
	The two girls both chuckled along with my little joke, but I could tell that they were only doing so to be polite. Something hung in the air that set them on edge, and despite being in the dark I began to feel it as well. We had been stopped far too long for it to be something simple, and as possibly detrimental as it might be to my life I found myself curious about just what that was.
	I stood up, garnering glances from the two girls, and made for the door.
	"We should stay put," one said. It was the one who had attended to me earlier, the cute blonde who couldn't be much older than fourteen or fifteen years. I struggled to remember her name, though I wasn't even sure if I had ever been told what it was.
	I shook my head. "I'm just going to stick my head out and see what's going on."
	Neither seemed particularly bent on stopping me, so I pushed open the door and hopped onto the dirt.
	Our caravan consisted of my carriage and four carts, each pulled by a pair of horses. In the rear there was a lookout, scanning the area behind us. Then there was our luggage, which was numerous enough to warrant two vehicles worth of clothing, items, and gifts for the wedding. Our carriage came next, just before the lead lookout charged with ensuring the path ahead was clear. What I noticed, however, was that none of the guards were at their positions alongside the caravan or inside the lookouts- they were grouped in the front, gathered about for some reason or another.
	That reason was painfully obvious when I paid more attention to what I was looking at. There was something very large in front of them; large to the tune of one colossal head- taller than an entire human- and a body of the size to suit that head. I say head and body, but I suppose I should say a woman- what looked like a human, except blown up to epic proportions. She was laying on the ground, making conversation with both Miss Glenshire and the guards.
	I'd never seen a giantess before, but from what I understood such encounters rarely ended well. This one seemed content enough, at least, to make casual conversation with our little caravan, rather than just stepping on us for fun. I put my hand on the carriage wheel and pushed myself up a bit onto the tips of my toes, wanting to get a little better of a look at our visitor. I couldn't get much of a view, however. I steeled myself with a sharp breath and began to climb onto the carriage side, getting handholds where I could until I pulled myself up to a more reasonable level.
	Such acrobatics were a little bit hampered from my lack of leg mobility, on account of my diaper keeping me from even closing my legs. The incessant crinkling, too, made my little climb not only difficult, but loud as well. Thankfully, Miss Glenshire and the guards seemed too engrossed in conversation with our guest to worry about a renegade princess. Eventually, though, I managed to reach a good enough vantage point.
	When I looked back in their direction, the view still wasn't much better. What I could see, though, was a head of meticulously-groomed hair that fell to her shoulders, the occasional strand brought loose by the breeze and dangling in front of her face before she brushed it back into place. I couldn't be sure of her age, but she certainly looked on the younger side, perhaps a few years older than myself. She didn't look annoyed or angry, thankfully, but her eyes were somewhat round with curiosity, perhaps catching the shining polish of the guards' armor. Also-
	... She was looking at me.
	I fell off my perch with all the grace of a maimed cat and landed on my butt. I was momentarily thankful for the cushioning my condition provided for me, though my dress was now thoroughly soiled by a splattering of mud. Miss Glenshire was definitely going to be pissed when she saw it, which happened as soon as my falling cry was heard from the group.
	"Millia Marigold!" she shrieked with the intensity rivaling a banshee. "I told you to remain inside the carriage!"
	"Yeah, well, I got bor- Hey!"
	She had already walked around to my backside and lifted up the back of my dress, placing a hand on my bottom to check for wetness. There was a loud squish as she pressed against the fabric, and a familiar shiver traveled up my spine. "You've gone and soaked yourself, Millia!"
	The moment she said it the damp feeling began to dominate my lower body, the urine refusing to stay where it belonged and leaking against my thighs. The warmth of my bodily fluids quickly gave way to an irritating sensation as it cooled off, feeling like a thousand needles prickling my groin. I stiffened up, trying to maintain my dignity despite the situation, but my body had a different idea. My surprised half-pee hadn't sated my bladder's lust to be emptied, and so it began dumping out what remained of its burden into my already wet diaper. At the very least, the fresh warmth beat the rapid cooling of my first burst, but even that small comfort began to fade as quickly as it came.
	"Have Caeda take care of your little... issue," said Miss Glenshire. She turned me around and gave me a gentle push back towards the open carriage door. Wanting out of the wet diaper more than anyone, I complied without complaint- but not before stealing another glance back at the retinue gathered near the caravan's front. The guards were murmuring to themselves, but that giantess seemed to be stifling a giggle at my little scene.
	"Fucker," I mouthed, only to be slapped by Miss Glenshire as she helped me back inside.
	"Watch your tongue!" she snapped, before returning back to whatever business our merry little band had with the gigantic stranger who deigned to pay us a visit.
	I shot a crude gesture to her back before closing the carriage door , leaving two staring serving girls to witness my disheveled state. "What?" I growled, sidling past them and sprawling myself out on the leather cushion.
	"Pardon us, Lady Marigold," said the blonde one. She might be Caeda, as the name seemed to ring a bell after Miss Glenshire had mentioned it. "We were told to administer punishment in the event that you use any obscene gestures."
	"Bullshit!" I swore, then immediately covered my mouth.
	"... Or foul language, as well."
	The two of them stood up, Caeda approaching me first while her companion remained to block the exit. I sat up, still not completely cognizant of what punishment they were supposed to perform. After all, the girl now standing over me was two years my junior. Surely she couldn't-
	She grabbed me, eliciting an undignified squeak, and rolled me over onto her knee. "What in the name of the gods are you doing?!" I demanded, trying to roll myself back onto my seat. Her grip was surprisingly tight, however, and I found myself stuck with my poor tummy facing downward and my eyes forward with a view of the lower half of the window.
	She pulled up the skirts of my dress, exposing my wet diaper to their prying eyes, and pulled back her hand, palm open.
	All at once I realize what was about to occur, just before the first swat landed against my backside. SMACK. I might as well have had my bare bottom exposed, for all the good my padding did me. The smack sent a flash of pain through my body, though the sound was simply a squish as she hit the urine-filled sack. I yelped, though immediately tried to compose myself before the second swing came. SMACK. It did, and I couldn't keep from crying out once more. Was this maid really managing to hurt me? She was just a little girl, and she was- SMACK - spanking me more painfully than Miss Glenshire could ever have managed! SMACK.
	"I AM THE PRINCESS!" I shouted, forgoing what little dignity I had left. SMACK. "Y-you can't spank me like I'm some sort of INFANT!"
	SMACK. SMACK. SMACK. And two more, for good measure. By the end, my eyes were red and tears freely rolled down my cheeks. I whimpered, defeated, as Caeda -curse her name- placed me back on my seat.
	Left with my stinging, wet bottom and the prospect of a bumpy half a day left before we reached out destination, I had to admit: Being a princess really isn't all it's cracked up to be.