Diaper Dimension - Princess Troubles (Part 1) (Patreon)

Author's Note:

I've tried to write a story which actually has a conclusion and diaper content rather than only buildup, which is all I've had of late. Naturally I only just reached the good bits in several times as long as expected, but I do have a pretty good plan for this one which could make the remaining parts either a fun conclusion, or open-ended to keep adding to if people like it. This might be the last new story I start for awhile, until I wrap up some of the current ones.

I finally, finally, felt like I managed to draw 'Amazons' right, at least for their chests ;), which was bugging me in all my previous attempts. The original author, Princess Pottypants, described them in a very particular way, which I always wanted to capture.

The main character's design was influenced by this real life princess, since I had the story idea but no way of visualizing a princess in the modern world.

As always, the pictures can be downloaded from the attachments list at the end to see them properly, and on desktops at least, can sometimes be made larger by clicking the title of the story to view it individually.

---

“Do you think I’m being selfish?” Silke asked.

Jermaine lowered her magazine, which featured a photo of herself on the cover, and gave Silke a quizzical look.

“What do you mean?”

“Well… By turning down that foreign prince last week. Staying a princess and not giving the country a queen, yet again.”

Jermaine leaned back in her beanbag, looking out over the skyscraper view of their vacation apartment.

“Oh I don’t think anybody really cares. It’s not like royalty really has to do anything in our country. What else could you even do as queen? You’re more of a figurehead.”

“Well, I could still secure a stronger relationship with another nation. Perhaps even bring in more trade.”

“Hrm,” Jermaine said, looking thoughtful as she reached for her martini, like it was the first time she’d ever considered such notions.

Oh Jermaine was entirely the wrong person to ask. She was the heiress of a powder company, and was somewhat like a spoiled princess herself. She didn’t know anything except how to shop.

“Well,” Jermaine finally said, seeming to have forgotten what they were talking about, “Do you want to come to that new ski resort next month? I’ve always wanted to try it. You could use your princess pull to bring attention to their opening, and help secure some jobs.”

Silke leaned back and frowned.

“I can’t, sorry.”

“Who says a princess can’t do something? Is this about the money again?”

Silke flinched. It was true that the royal funds weren’t looking so amazing. She could live a very comfortable lifestyle, but she couldn’t be as wildly extravagant as some imagined. In a way, heiresses like Jermaine seemed freer.

“I doubt a getaway for such a small segment of society really needs advertising. Or that they would count for many jobs.”

Jermaine shrugged. “Well the rest of us are going. The offer is open.”

Silke nodded, and fetched her own drink. She’d consider it.

Of course, she should really be considering marriage to a foreign prince. The world was getting smaller every year, in many ways. It could be one of the better services she could provide, for all she’d been given. Some of their neighbours were merging into some very large and powerful countries.

Yet she turned down the possibility of marriage every few months for years now. None of the options had seemed particularly… good. She was a princess, and could have high standards, she reminded herself. Especially since she wasn’t half bad looking herself. She sometimes felt that if she wasn’t a princess, she would be a model like Jermaine.

“I’m going to get some air,” Silke said.

She slipped into her public outfit, and notified the day’s driver assigned to her.

She’d not mentioned that she’d actually needed to make an appearance at the silk farms, for which she was named. The silk was their largest export, and was used in tailoring all over the world. It felt strange to have ‘work’ while her non-royal friends could do whatever they wanted. 

After the tour, well, maybe she could do a little shopping. Her spendable income might not be unlimited, but it was still enough that she could arrive back with a dozen designer bags on her arms. And if she was lucky, well, sometimes people gave her gifts, and who was she to say no...

----

Silke nodded graciously and followed the workers down another row of Mulberry trees.

“These are some of our best silkworms,” the man explained.

Silke inspected them. She’d been touring silk farms and posing for photos since she was a child. Her elegant dress and sash rustled, and were made of their most expensive silks themselves.

They rounded a corner, and a strange sight caught Silke’s eye.

“Who is that man?” she asked, almost whispering.

“Hrm?” the farm supervisor murmured, looking forward, and then up. “Oh. He is from the new country to the east. Whatever they’re calling themselves these days.”

Silke nodded. Their neighbours had merged and grown rapidly, and were one of the reasons she felt a little guilty about not doing more to help secure her own country’s footing.

“Is he here to buy silk?”

“He’s actually here to see you. I told him to wait.”

Silke blinked. “Oh.”

They all craned to look up as the man approached. He must have been two foot taller than anybody there.

He bowed, and yet still towered over them while doing so.

“Princess Silke Silva-Cortez?”

Silke blinked, then performed her slight curtsy as extensive training took over.

“Welcome to our farms. I trust you’re enjoying your visit.”

The man nodded.

“The silkworms are very impressive. If it pleases you, I bring a message from the new royal house of my home country.”

Silke tensed. A marriage proposal. It had to be.

The man produced a message canister, and she nodded and accepted it. Goodness, it was big. She’d struggle to carry it while shopping, and would need to find somebody to take it to her vacation apartment.

“And who might you be?” she asked.

She dared not hope that he was a prince. He was a fair measure better looking than the options she’d had in the past, though he was probably a bit big for her anyway.

“Just a messenger,” he said, bowing again.

Goodness, the new country that they were building next door must really be something to be able to spare a man such as he for simple messaging work.

“Well I thank you,” she said, not letting her surprise or disappointment show, “And I will read the message with immediate haste.”

For this handsome man, she actually did as she said, and took the message canister back to her limo where she immediately opened it. Perhaps that was why they sent him.

She was invited to meet at a resort on the borders of their lands. How very diplomatic. They could have easily requested that she go right to their capital, with their relative trading power and might.

Of course, if their prince wasn’t handsome, she’d still be having none of it. That messenger might have been sent to lower her guard on such matters.

She began drafting a note for her people to accept the invitation.

---

The resort was enormous.

Silke had travelled outside the country on a few occasions, though rarely went beyond her string of planned meetings. She’d not much cared to in truth.

Now she had only a team of minor assistants as she walked into the enormous lobby, staring up at the ceiling above her.

Looking up, she was reminded that every person she’d brought was taller than herself. She’d somehow felt it was right to project equal height while coming into this culture of more varied sizes. They had normal-sized people of course - at about three to five foot tall - given that they shared a border, but they also had some who were much larger, perhaps even giants. Silke had already seen one nine foot woman outside, seeming to tower up into the sky. The amalgamations had resulted in strange melting pots of former royal principalities. Not that royalty mattered much now except for ceremonial roles. If there was a chance for Silke to strengthen her position here with another royal family, she really should take it.

Of course, if the prince wasn’t handsome enough-

“The Queen will see you now.”

Silke blinked. The queen? Well that didn't bode well for the quality of the offer if she was to see the mother first.

She waved her people off and entered the elevator with the manservant. Her nation knew she was there, her hosts wouldn’t try anything.

Goodness, the operator was once again enormous though, not to mention also handsome. Silke kept her hopes in check, given that she hadn’t heard of any handsome princes in this land, though it was hard to keep up with the changing world in recent times. The Queen obviously liked beautiful things, at least, so was maybe trying to find a suitable match to the prince.

“In there, highness,” the man said, gesturing ahead as he pulled back the elevator cage.

Silke nodded, and strode onto the upper floor.

It would have been nice to have been able to meet as a queen herself, since she almost was in effect. It was a dumb archaic law that she needed to be married to a prince before she could take the real crown.

Her march carried her to an open door. It was all so large.

She rapped her fingers on the frame, and tried to get a peek inside.

“Enter,” a deep woman’s voice called.

Silke paused, then strode forward.

Two large, plush chairs awaited, facing toward a fire and away from the door. A large feminine arm rested at the edge of one of the seats, and Silke eyed it warily as she made for the other chair.

A wooden step awaited, and she ascended to her seat with practiced elegance. It wasn’t the first time she’d had to deal with larger furniture. Though a chair in her own size might have just been easier. At least the big seat made her equal, she supposed.

She turned to face the woman, the mother of the mysterious prince, and-

And she was a rather young woman.

Not to mention enormous.

The queen watched her intently with sharp eyes.

For a moment Silke found her mouth ajar and her voice failing her. It wasn’t what she expected.

“Welcome, Princess Silke.”

Her voice was deep and powerful unlike anything Silke had heard. She might have had a hint of youth about her, yet she also had a towering maturity which Silke couldn’t quite pinpoint. The enormous assets on her chest probably helped, Silke noticed with a blush.

“Thank you, Queen…?”

The Queen raised an eyebrow.

Silke blushed. In truth, she had only tried to research which handsome princes the newly-merged country might have. In further truth, she had been a bit lazy, hoping that one would just land in her lap after all her previous disappointments, and had not done as much research as she perhaps should have.

“Queen Gloranna Firmhand, for which my family is known.”

Silke nodded. Strange.

“How was your trip Princess?”

Silke didn’t shrug, ignoring the urge for decorum’s sake.

“It was very pleasant, thank you.”

“Did you see our famous sunflowers on the way in?”

“I did, thank you.”

“Good. Now I suppose you know why we are here?”

Silke nodded. “Uniting our families. Possibly incorporating my country into your own growing nation.”

The Queen nodded, staring intently at the tiny princess.

Silke suddenly tensed, worrying that the queen herself was going to propose as some sort of lesbian marriage.

“That is right. We’re here to discuss adoption.”

Silke frowned, not quite sure what she’d just...

“Adoption..?”

“It seems the obvious path forward for our two countries, yes?”

“I, uh…”

“It seems clear that you do not wish to marry.”

Silke flinched. People had determined that about her? She’d never imagined others discussing her personal whims like that.

“And your country obviously cannot continue alone while such giants form around it.”

Silke nodded slowly.

“And finally, at your size, it seems the most acceptable form of uniting our families which will look right at any cursory glance.”

Oh. The Queen’s pragmatism was on point, though a little embarrassing. The world preferred normality, or even just the appearance of it, and if they glanced at the two side-by-side, they might just get the wrong impression about relative ages…

There was even the other thing, when somebody was particularly immature, and- well, Silke didn’t think about all that.

“So,” she began, trying to collect her thoughts, “In this model which you propose, I would still be a princess?”

The Queen smiled, as if it were a simple question.

“Of course. You would be a princess, as you would, by law, be the daughter of a queen.”

Silke nodded. What a strange notion.

She should push in any such negotiation.

“Perhaps we could have it so that I’m the one who adopted y-”

“Now now, I’ve thought all this through, and have made a very thoughtful offer for you. My country is by far the larger. And we wish to show normalcy through the advantages presented to us, don’t we?”

Silke squirmed and nodded. She should try harder, but the Queen’s great big heaving bosom were distracting her. Silke had to wonder how large her nipples were beneath the bra, which itself must have had cups half her size. Stupid. She could not think of a more banal topic than another woman’s breasts.

Oh dear, had she been staring at those two heaving mountains? The Queen at least kept herself calm and collected if she’d noticed.

“It’s all rather different than what I had planned.”

“Of course. Though I see a girl who knew to wait for something appropriate and comfortable. Try our hot cocoa Princess. It’s a special recipe we mix in our land.”

Silke blinked as a large attendant entered and silently served them. Hers was in a smaller cup, though it was still very large to her.

It was delicious.

“Thank you. Would I have much in the way of duties? I must warn you that I prefer not to be involved in governmental affairs.”

The Queen’s gaze hardened briefly.

“You would have almost no responsibilities. I would continue to rule. You would still be required to attend royal events, suitably presented as a princess and daughter of my kingdom however.”

No responsibilities? The Queen might have led with that.

“How large would my spending purse be?”

“I would provide all that you need, and I would see that you get the very best. My reputation sits upon you always being well taken care of as a credible princess.”

Silke lifted the mug to hide her frown at that. Goodness it was delicious. Was this the Queen’s way of saying that she would be a good hostess? Predicting that Silke would lift the cup every time she doubted it? Oh she was overthinking it. The Queen would forget about her as soon as they had a photo-op showing their misleading size-differences and the merger had been accepted. And then Silke would still be a princess, except with zero responsibilities besides a few public appearances. Oh, goodness.

Though, the embarrassing implication which the Queen wanted was perhaps too much.

“And my country would be incorporated into yours in this model which you propose? And so would not need to worry about all its larger neighbours ever again?”

“That is correct. Here is the long-form treaty which would discuss such matters.”

Silke blinke as the larger woman produced an enormous book.

Oh, goodness. She wasn’t reading all that. This was why she preferred not to deal with all the real heavy work.

She took another sip from her sweet drink. 

“I accept,” she said, casting another nervous glance at the enormous tome. Anything other than having to read all that.

Besides, it was time. She’d finally found a way around her responsibilities, while retaining her lifestyle of luxury as a princess.

(cont)