Leslie groaned and rolled over in her cot as the sound of the bars of her crib and her cell opened automatically in tandem. She grimaced at the wet squish of her diaper and chewed her rubber pacifier as she pined for the morning’s that didn’t start like this one. With a bit of oomph she hopped onto her own two feet and carefully steadied herself with a death grip on her bunk. She may not be able to zap herself across electrical lines nowadays but at least she could still walk…or well, waddle.
With a hand placed unladylike between her legs she confirmed her suspicions. Oh yeah, this diaper was soaked as all get out. If the crotch snaps hadn’t held the sag’d be slapping between her thighs right about now. Today, just like all the preceding days since they put her here, she wore a standard issue orange prison onesie with a joke of a miniskirt around the waistline that couldn’t hide the diaper bulge if you tried with a set of matching booties. Well, might as well get herself in a fresh diaper to start her day.
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