Charnessa is awake but not really. She is sedated and fogged, lying face down in bed. She doesn't bother moving or even opening her eyes. She knows the lights in the room never turn off, at least she's never seen them off. Everything is on display under the hot white glare of these LED lights. She imagines that her full diaper is visible from all angles whether from above or on camera. This is her only chance to escape the humiliation of the spotlight. She keeps her eyes shut and doesn't move.

This is morning 6 of her imprisonment. It will go like the previous 5 mornings. Charnessa knows it's not a fun process. She saviors every quiet moment before her ritual begins. She wants to look at the clock to see how much time she has left but doesn't want anyone watching to know she's awake. Opening her eyes only provokes more reaction. She sucks hard on her paci and tries to drift off. Her attempts at further slumber fail. She is not able to go back to sleep.

Charnessa wants nothing more than to have her uncomfortable, poop filled, diaper removed from her body. The smell of the dirty diaper utterly repulses her. Removing the diaper herself is not a good ideal. She took off her diaper on her first morning here and also her second and third. The result was 10 hand raps and also a spanking from Daddy. She is consumed with rage at having to endure the shame of being changed in public. But the alternative is worse. She remains still.

Oh! The door is opening, it must be 6:30 already.

She hears Mommy's strange shuffling gait enter the room. It is an unnatural walking motion, slow, awkward, much closer to a frail human being than a robot. Mommy is laying out a beach towel and a fresh diaper next to her in bed. She hears the pail of water sloshing on the floor. The morning routine is about to begin.

From above there is tapping on the glass and muffled jeering. Charnessa grits her teeth hard as she keeps her eyes shut. It's better to let these people think she's asleep than give them the satisfaction of seeing her squirm uncomfortably under Mommy's gruff and indelicate handling.

Charnessa feels the edges of her diaper unfastening. It's being snatched from her queen sized body. She feels her butt cheeks wobble and shake as it's pulled off. A cheer from above erupts. That must mean her used diaper is being held up for onlookers.

Next she is swept by a sensation of warm dampness as Mommy vigorously wipes her stinky bottom with a damp washcloth. She hears the cloth being plunged in warm water and wrung by hand then slathered over her again. This time her butt crack receives special attention. The cloth is doused again and her legs are washed, then her back. It is a tedious process.

Charnessa hears the beeping of the livestream camera as she gets her morning bath. A vain part of her is curious to see the number of the viewing audience. The highest so far was 6,100 and something. That was yesterday. Did she top that number this morning? She refuses to 'wake up' and take a look at the camera. Mommy will perform her tasks in silent as long as she thinks her baby C is asleep.

"Just get through this and you can eat." She repeats to herself over and over again. "Don't let them see you squirm, or resist. Just get through this and you can eat."

The worst is yet to come.

Mommy flips her over so she can finish cleaning her naked body. The sudden jerking is so violent that Charnessa almost opens her eyes. Why does this so called Mommy always have to be so rough? Charnessa stays limp as Mommy holds her by the wrist and wipes her stubble filled armpit. The process is repeated with the other armpit. Her breasts are swiped from top to bottom as they are lifted up one by one. The reaction from the top is pandemonium. The big finish is coming. She hears the cloth being dipped an wrung out again before Mommy wipes in and around her hairy vagina.

The watching crowd erupts into a standing ovation. Charnessa knows they are standing from the previous 5 mornings. The greater the indignity, the more they enjoy the spectacle.

Now the washing is over. It is time to be put in a fresh diaper. This is where Mommy usually likes to have her baby C's active participation. Unlike the previous mornings, Charnessa has not visibly stirred yet. She is determined to resist passively and not participate.

Charnessa hears the washcloth being plunged and wrung out one last time. Then the room is silent.

"What the hell is going on?" Charnessa thinks. Her alarm bells are going crazy.

A wicked snap of the cloth stings her left check, jarring Charnessa's eyes open. Her pacifier is whipped out of her mouth. There is widespread laughter from above at seeing her snapped to life at last.

Charnessa glares at Mommy before remembering her place and lowering her eyes. She hopes her brash reaction has not caused her to lose food.

"There you are, baby C! So nice and alert for Mommy this morning! Mommy hated to wake you dear, you were sleeping so soundly, but she wants you up now so she can finish dressing you. Roll into your fresh new diaper, dear."

Charnessa hates seeing the sinister, grinning mask of Mommy. She hates her patronizing words. But she quickly does as she is told. She rolls herself forward on the new diaper. Mommy powders her clean bottom and fastens her edges. The sickening morning routine is almost over.

"Up now, baby C! Straddle Mommy, arms up!"

Charnessa holds her hands up as Mommy places a new t-shirt on her. Today's shirt is dark purple in color. It will offer at least some protection for her areola and nipple area. On her first three days she was given a completely see thru white T. Mommy explained that as her behavior improves she would be given a darker color t-shirt as a reward.

Mommy is pleased today.

"Very good, baby C! You've worked your way from white to pink to purple. You are indeed showing signs of progress."

Mommy's words make Charnessa feel better. She offers Mommy a lopsided smile. She has learned to accept praise from either Mommy or Daddy in silence. Any verbal response can be misinterpreted as sarcasm. Praise can turn quickly into a reprimand, so stay quiet.

Charnessa stays straddling Mommy. Only one more step to go. She lays her head on Mommy's shoulder and wraps her arms around her middle. The onlookers from above go"ahh". They never seem to catch on. This isn't affection. She's bracing for contact.

"Injection time, baby C. It does hurt some but don't flinch, baby C. Mommy's got you."

A long syringe comes out and the cap is removed. The needle is deployed deeply into Charnessa's ass cheek and ingredients dispensed.

Charnessa lets a grin sweep across her face. She instantly feels a thousand times better, awake, alert and at full attention.

"Up now baby C. Off of Mommy's lap. You were an obedient little child this morning. Breakfast will be served at 7. I will suggest to Daddy a second helping of baby food, dear."

Charnessa springs off the bed and does a little dance. Mommy giggles and rubs her wild, kinky hair. This is the type of reaction that is 100 percent approved of.

Mommy leaves.

Charnessa doesn't know what she is injected with. Right now she doesn't care. It feels good. She's as high as a kite. She'll take her little pleasures where she can. She keeps on dancing barefoot in her diaper to the amusement of all above her. She shows off moves that once made her a serious candidate for the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater. Time passes as she blows off steam.

Exhausted, she looks at the clock. 6:57 am. Food is coming. She quickly gets herself cross legged and in front of the food slot at the door.

Charnessa is still feeling her drug rush. She is very encouraged. She's going to be an obedient baby until she can out think her tormentors.

Charnessa Henshaw is going to play this game until she wins. She's going to find a way out of this place.