Crotch taped tight. White diaper strains over plump brown mound, yellowed fabric peeking at the edges where moisture seeps through. Legs kicked apart. Knees bent high, thighs dimpled and smooth under the weight of exposure, red-and-white bedspread rumpled beneath her ass. Fabric bunches. Soft skin presses against crinkly padding, a faint sheen of sweat glossing inner thighs as she holds the spread-eagle stance — vulnerable, unfiltered, the diapers grip unyielding on her curves. No rush. Just the heavy texture of containment, warmth building inside.