Doing Business [Season 4] [Part 79 posted on 4/26/2024]

[quietlyhumiliated]

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One

We are delighted to have you as a member of our internship team! Many of our current employees, from a vast array of departments, got their start with internship programs just like the one you’re enrolled in now.

Are you ready to apply yourself to actual workplace problems that need to be solved? As important as your time spent in the classroom has been, the hands-on experience you’re about to get here may serve as your greatest learning aid yet.

We hope you’re ready, because this is going to be both fun and educational.

—

An intern wasn’t an employee. An intern barely qualified as a human being. An intern was just a body–a hollow husk–that was only acknowledged when a task had been found that absolutely nobody else on the payroll would want to do.

I imagined that the arrangement was good for both the company and my school. Both would consider me an example of their institutions aiding and growing students with “real world experience.” And being young and naive, I believed it to be a privilege. An honor.

Thus, I was spending my daylight hours wearing a shirt and tie, discarded in a small office that was likely a supply closet before interns were brought in. It was just Lyndie and I. Watching YouTube and complaining about how warm or how cold our office was on that particular day.

Lyndie was over it not long after we started. She was cynical to start with, but all it took was 10 minutes of being in an office building where men, older than her by 40+ years, stared at her chest to realize that she no longer wanted to be whatever it was she was studying for.

I, on the other hand, had an eagerness that couldn’t be as easily squashed. The company was just waiting for someone stupid like me to show up so that it could devour me whole.

It was a Friday afternoon in The Closet–the name we had given to our makeshift cupboard of an office–when the door opened and Anderson waltzed in. We didn’t know his real name–this was just what we called him.

“I’ve got some work for you,” he said. “A little project. You got some time?”

Lyndie and I looked at each other, stifling laughter. We had all the time in the world.

“I’m actually heading out for the weekend,” Lyndie said, grabbing her coat from off the back of her chair. I didn’t know a lot about her, but the move seemed like Classic Lyndie - complain about the lack of things to do, but bounce when a purpose arose.

“Of course,” I said, stepping up. “What can I do for you?”

“Walk with me.”

We walked. I had very little knowledge of the office’s layout. Lyndie and I know the path we took to The Closet and that was about it. We were quickly out of familiar territory, and the deeper we got into the abyss of cubicles and offices, the more concerned I was that I might never find my way back to the exit again. This is it for me. Tell my mother I love her.

“We were awarded the Richard Kahn Performance Award last month,” Anderson said. “Did you hear that?”

I have no clue what this award was. I have no idea who Richard Kahn is, nor what sort of performance his name is connected to. I’m not even sure where I am or who Anderson actually is. How did we come up with the name Anderson? Was that a Matrix reference?

“It’s very prestigious,” I said, hoping that this suffices as an answer to his question.

“Yeah it is. Damn right. We worked our asses off for that, you know? We got shafted last year, but we weren’t going to let that happen again.”

“Of course,” I said.

“Anyways, here we are.”

We were in a hallway; a fancier one, if such a thing is possible. He picked something off a table and stuck it into my hands.

“Oh...is this…”

“That’s the award,” he said.

It didn’t look as prestigious as his excitement had painted it just moments ago. It looked like the sort of thing I would’ve been given at the end of a season of little league. It might as well have said: “Most Improved Player.”

Still, I wasn’t sure why he was giving it to me, or why he brought me all the way to this hallway.

“So you want me to...file this?”

“What? Kid, look at the wall. I need you to hang it up. With the others.”

I turned around, taking in the assortment of plaques, awards and other framed certificates that had almost completely covered it.

My heart sank a little. My first task and it was doing the same thing that I imagined the office maintenance man was for. I tried to imagine what I’d tell Lyndie about this on Monday. There was no doubt that she’d get a kick out of this.

“Do you have, like, a hammer or some nails?” I asked. Mind you, I wouldn’t have known what to do with either.

Anderson shrugged. “Look, I’m not the maintenance guy.”

Neither am I.

I foolishly believed that he was walking away so that he could help me find the tools I’d need. But when he didn’t come back after five minutes, I took that as a sign that he wouldn’t be coming back at all. Left to my own devices, I had to improvise. I considered ramming a bent paperclip into the wall with a stapler–both of which were tools within my range of vision–but the last thing I wanted was for someone to ask who put the plaque up when it fell down and clobbered someone on the head. Anderson would rat me out too, I just knew it.

My solution to this problem was to scan the awards on the wall, find the one that looked the least important, replace it with the new award, and then hide the old one. This plan was going pretty well until I had an old award in hand and I was looking for a place to stash it.

“Are you the one making all the racket out here?” Her voice was firm and commanding, but there was a melody to it. I spun around to see who it belonged to.

She was gorgeous. I’d never seen her before, nor had I even seen anyone quite like her. She was tall. Sturdy. Her dark hair cascaded over shoulders and her strong arms were folded in front of her.

“Oh...was I being loud? I didn’t mean to…”

“What is that? In your hands?”

I nervously held up the old award I had planned to find a dark hiding place for. I suddenly felt like a little boy holding some shameful mistake up to my mother for inspection.

“The Carmichael Award from 1998?”

“I was...putting up a new award,” I said, pointing to the plaque I had put up in its place.

She shrugged. As it turned out, she probably didn’t know what a Carmichael Award or a Richard Kahn Award was either, and she most certainly did not care.

“Are you new here?”

“I’m an intern.”

“We have those?”

“Apparently.”

She looked me over very carefully. She was judging me. Scanning me for flaws. Picking me apart with her eyes.

“Do you have any other obligations for today?” she asked.

“I...well, I guess that’s all I have for today. Just got to find a place for this award here and…”

“May I see that?”

I handed her the plaque, and without any hesitation at all, she dropped it into a nearby trash can.

“There. You’re caught up. Join me in my office, won’t you?”

For the first time, I was looking at the name placards on the wall for the offices in this hallway. Richard Donovan; CCO. Emily Sutch-Wilson; VP of Marketing. Darren Yang; CFO. I had been in the executive hallway this whole time. I was now nervous to see who this woman was.

I followed her into her office as she had asked me to, glancing at her placard: Gabrielle Heller; CEO.

She closed the door behind me and took a seat at her desk. It was a large office, understandably so, though it felt so alien after seeing the endless ocean of cramped workstations the rest of the company endured. There was a fridge, a fireplace. An additional table with chairs. An exercise bike. A door to what I suspected was a personal restroom.

“What did you say your name was?”

I wasn’t sure that I had told her. “Clark. Clark Ashburn?” I wasn’t sure why I phrased it like a question. Surely I knew that better than she did.

“What are your aspirations here, Mr. Ashburn?”

“Aspirations… Well, uhm, jeez. I hadn’t really thought of it like that, you know? My program at school requires so many hours of internship and your company brought me on, so…”

“And what is the end to these means? School. Internships. When it's said and done, what are you looking to do with yourself?”

I hated this question, but mostly because I never had an especially good answer for it. “Business?”

“Was that a question, Mr. Ashburn?”

“I’m hoping that my experience with your company helps to guide me towards the best career choices and…”

She was laughing and shaking her head. “Oh, come now, you don’t believe that, do you? I was an intern once. It was a requirement to meet and nothing more. How long have you been interning here?”

“Two weeks?”

“And what have you accomplished here so far?”

“I...put up that award a few minutes ago.”

“Mr. Clark Ashburn, you’re in an interesting position right now.”

“A-am I?”

“You’re an intern with a company that clearly has little idea of what to do with an intern. You’re bored, yes?”

“Maybe…” Should I be admitting such things to someone like her?

She bit her lip for a moment and then smiled. “Care to make things interesting?”

“I...I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

“I’m going to make you a proposition. You can think it over and get back to me, if you’d like. It’s going to sound like...a lot. But I have confidence that you’ll keep this conversation to yourself, regardless of what you choose. Do you know why?”

I shook my head.

“Because nobody would believe you if you tried to tell them.”

My heart was racing. What the hell was she about to spring on me?

“I had an assistant a few years ago. Her name was Hillary. The sweetest little thing you’ve ever seen. She waited on me hand and foot. I felt a little guilty about testing her limits at first, but...that was her position, and I’ve got enough power and clout that I can do things like that. So I’d try pushing her a little. I’d ask her to pull her pants down for me so that I could inspect her panties. I’d make her crawl around my office for me on her hands and knees. I’d make her do...well...lots of things.”

My heart was beating even faster. My mouth was dry. Palms sweaty. Where was this going?

“Don’t worry,” she added. “She absolutely adored it. She’d eventually start begging me for it.”

“Where is she now?” I asked.

“Engaged,” she answered, rolling her eyes. “Happens to the best of us, I guess. Some dingus with a boat gave her a ring and they moved to Connecticut. Seriously? f***ing Conneticut?”

I offered the slightest of shrugs.

“My current assistant, Daniel. He’s fine. Nice enough, I suppose. But not really plaything material, if you know what I mean.”

“Plaything?”

“Plaything,” she said with a nod. “One that I can play with.”

“Oh…”

“Look, you’re not doing anything here anyways. You’re young and horny, right? Wouldn’t you like to have some powerful woman knock you around a little bit? There’s something about you. It’s hard to put my finger on what that something is, but I know it when I see it and I see it in you. Curiosity. A desire to please. You do want to please me, yes?”

There was a flutter in my stomach. I wondered if this was a talent that powerful people had - the ability to just look at someone and know how they’d be able to use them. I wouldn’t lie, this was almost, verbatim, out of my own fantasies.

It was the logistics that made me hesitant. My internship and my education would be on the line. My potential career path. My own reputation and dignity.

But...I suspected a woman like her didn’t get to be where she was if she hadn’t been careful.

“I’d like to think about it,” I said.

“So that’s not just an outright ‘no?’ Interesting.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “There’s a lot of unknowns. Can you...elaborate on what you’d be asking me to do?”

She laughed again. “Do you have any limits, Mr. Ashburn?”

“Limits?”

“Limits. Things–and it can be anything–that you just wouldn’t do. Regardless of the time, place, or company.”

“I mean...I don’t know… Like…”

“Would you crawl on the ground for me?”

“Yes.” I said the word before I had even thought about it. For as hesitant and careful as I wanted to be, she had been deadly accurate with her pinpointing of my still-blossoming horniness.

“Would you allow me to touch you?”

“Yes.” I winced immediately after, unsure if I’d regret this later. Was I committing to something?

“If I asked you to wear something for me, would you? Only you and I would know that you were wearing it, but it would be potentially humiliating for you.”

“Yes.” I was very, very, curious now. “I think.”

“Take the weekend and think it over,” she said. “Come back to me on Monday with an answer. I want you to think about limits, Mr. Ashburn. Make a list of the things you wouldn’t do, and come back to me with that. I’m a very imaginative woman, so I want you to think very hard about it.”

“Yes. Of course, Ms. Heller.”

I left her office, absolutely abuzz with confusion and disbelief. I looked at her name placard again, wondering if I had misread it. I imagined that I was in an episode of the Twilight Zone and closer examination would reveal that I had actually stumbled into a broom closet and had been talking to an old mop.

No. She was who I believed her to be.

It took me 25 minutes to find my way back to The Closet.

Details of our conversation fluttered about in my mind. These sorts of things–these conversations–didn’t actually happen in real life; and they absolutely did not happen to me. This was a joke. An extremely elaborate form of hazing, maybe.

I suspected that I’d arrive in her office on Monday with an answer, regardless of what it was, only to find a completely different woman in the office. Then, I’d learn that the woman I met was just an actress. Part of a cruel prank from someone like Anderson.

Could I at least have the actress’s phone number?

It didn’t take an entire weekend to figure out what I wanted to do about this. I was pretty sure by the end of my train ride that Friday afternoon that I would go back to her on Monday with a cautious acceptance of her offer. I would spend the weekend trying only to justify this answer to myself.

It was her position that would ultimately be the factor that I clung to most tightly. What high-powered and visible company executive would jeopardize their career over such strange games? Unless they were sure that they could get away with it. And she had, right? Hillary. But then there was Daniel, who was apparently not cut from the same cloth.

I wondered what it was she saw in me that she didn’t see in Daniel.

As if there had been any doubt about what potential my mind saw in this arrangement, I had a similar dream three nights in a row - growing in detail each time.

Sunday night’s found me in that executive hallway again, crawling down it on my hands and knees. “There you are,” she said, stepping out from her office–clad in leather and holding a wooden paddle. “We’ve got a lot of work to take care of today. Be a good boy, won’t you, and join me in my office? You’ll be spending the afternoon over my lap.”

It had been a while since I made a wet spot in the bed like that.

Monday morning, back in The Closet, a sleepy Lyndie inquired about Friday afternoon’s task: “Did they, like, ask you to file some papers or something? Take out the trash?”

“I just had to hang up an award.” I chose to leave out the part about being poached for a strange power game.

“What a waste of time,” she muttered. “At least I have a place to do schoolwork. It’s a shame we don’t get paid for this.”

I wanted to tell her more. I wanted to tell her everything. We were hardly friends, and I didn’t know her well enough to trust her, but if anyone could appreciate the absurdity lurking under the surface of the corporate world, it was my fellow bitter intern.

“Do you know Gabrielle Heller?” I asked her.

“Should I?”

“She’s the CEO here.”

She offered an apathetic shrug. “Good for her. What about her now?”

“Just curious if you had ever met her before.”

“I’ve met, like, two people from this company. So, no, I have not met the CEO. Have...you?”

“Nah. Just wondering what she’s like.”

“My advice, Clark? Don’t think about people who are never going to think about you.”

Later in the day, I tried to recreate the path that Anderson had taken me down previously. It was hard, considering I hadn’t been paying attention at the time. Clearly I didn’t predict a strange encounter with management. Ten minutes later, I was approached by a young man - he looked to be a little older than me, but not by much.

“Can I help you? You look lost.”

“Oh...I was just heading over to…” my voice trailed off as I realized how ridiculous I was about to sound. “...Ms. Heller’s office?”

“Ms. Heller? Do you have an appointment?”

“I’m an employee.” That was kind of true.

His skeptical eyes seemed to imply that I would’ve had more luck if I was a visitor and not an employee. “If you don’t have an appointment, I’m not sure that you’ll be able to see her this afternoon.”

Ah yes, this must’ve been Daniel.

“She’s expecting me, actually.”

His eyes narrowed further. “What is your name?”

“Clark Ashburn?”

“And you said you’re an employee here?” I didn’t like the implication in his tone, but I suspected he had already made up his mind about me.

I nodded.

“Let’s see if she’s available for you.

I followed him to his desk where he tapped away at a keyboard and consulted some unseen-to-me things. I could now see we were close to her office. Not far from where we stood, I could spot the award I hung the other day.

And there was the trash can where Ms. Heller had tossed the old award. It was empty now.

“Ms. Heller?” Daniel had called her from his desk. “Yes, I have a Clark...Fishburne here to see you?”

“Ashburn,” I said, correcting him.

He scoffed, visibly frustrated that he had to say my name at all. “Ashburn, I’m sorry.”

There was a short pause. I watched his eyes change from a smug annoyance to surprise.

He looked back to me, still speaking to her on the phone. “Y-yes. I’ll let him know.” He hung up the phone and expelled a short sigh. “Yes, she’ll see you now. Though, if I may ask, what is your position in the company?”

I wasn’t sure how to answer him. I was afraid if I told him the truth, it would arouse suspicion. Should an intern be meeting with the CEO? Still...who was I supposed to say that I was that wouldn’t look worse when he inevitably found out the truth? I’ve seen a sitcom or two before.

“An intern,” I said.

He didn’t say anything, instead offering only another skeptical nod.

I couldn’t have fled from his desk any faster.

I knocked on her door, only to find that it was opening before my knocks were completed.

“Ah, there you are,” she said, a wide smile on her face. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to reject my offer in person.”

“Oh, I wasn’t going to…”

“So you’re interested?”

“Well…” I wasn’t expecting to have to give an answer so soon. “Yes.”

“Excellent.”

She closed the door behind me, and closed the blinds in the window that looked into the hallway. The isolation and privacy felt intimidating - especially given the mysterious future ahead of us.

“I see no point in belaboring this,” she said. “Take your pants off for me.”

“Here? Now?”

“Shall I give you a minute or two to decide if I mean now or later? I have faith that you can figure out the right answer.”

I sighed and began unbuckling my belt. She was right–it had been kind of silly to even ask.

“What a good boy,” she said. “Look at who can follow directions.” Her voice was a mix of heavy condescension and sincere satisfaction. I was feeling a lot of things–not least of all humiliation–but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it.

I kicked off my shoes and shimmied my way out of my khakis, leaving them and my shoes in a small pile to the side. I was left in my button-down, boxer shorts and socks.

“Adorable,” she said, pacing around me, scanning me over yet again. “I see this from time to time. Little boys dressing up like their fathers. You’d like to be a big businessman?”

I offered only an insecure shrug.

“You look like a baby to me. Are you a baby?”

I shook my head.

“What if I want you to be a baby?”

I started to shake my head, but stopped myself. It was hard to explain–but there was something about her question that had piqued my interest.

I nodded. “Yes...if that’s what you want.”

“Oh, I do,” she said. “But babies must look and act the part. Just having an adorable looking baby-face isn’t enough.”

I trembled a little, feeling even more uncertain of where this was going. “What can I do for you?”

“Well, for one,” she said, as she walked to a filing cabinet which she unlocked and opened, “while you’re in my office with me, you can call me Mommy.”

I swallowed nervously.

“And,” she continued, “we’ll have to get you into one of these.”

She held up the folded object she had pulled from the cabinet. I knew what it was–a diaper–but that answered very few of my questions. If anything, it created more.

“You...want me to put that on?”

“No,” she said. “I’ll be putting it on you myself. You’re just going to lie down on the ground for me and let me do that. And we should hurry. I have a meeting in ten minutes, and I’d like to make sure you’re nice and snug before we part ways for a bit.”

[maly]

Oooh I like this, eager for more. lol

Maly.

[Kaleros]

44 minutes ago, maly said:

Oooh I like this, eager for more.

Same here.

[Bluebird67]

You cut straight to the chase with this one!

Given that this sort of (checklist filling, “work experience”) internship often takes place a year or two before finishing secondary school, you might like to have Ms Heller mention that she checked his age with HR.

[quietlyhumiliated]

Two

Memo to all employees: Award plaques, trophies, and certificates should never be discarded in the trash. If you’re unsure of where to place one, please bring it to Office Management on the 8th floor.

Thank you.

—

“Where the hell have you been?” asked Lyndie upon my return to The Closet.

I wish I knew the answer to that. Another reality? One that was stranger than anything Lyndie would be able to believe?

“Exploring,” I said. It was the best I could come up with. I was hesitant to say much more. Lyndie was already so bitter about her experience here that I was afraid she’d turn against me too if I mentioned that I was meeting with anyone - let alone the CEO.

“Find anything good?”

“A vending machine that sells Jolly Ranchers,” I said. This much was true.

“Strange,” she said. “These people don’t strike me as the types who enjoy flavor.”

I was overthinking every single one of my movements. The thick diaper had this loud crispy crinkle to it that seemed to overpower any other sound in my vicinity. Or...that was just the way I perceived it. I was now walking carefully. Rotating my torso carefully. Sitting down carefully.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, of course… Why do you ask?”

“You seem weird,” she said. “Weirder than usual.”

“Do I...normally seem weird to you?

She laughed. “You’re...I dunno. Boyish?”

“I am a boy.”

“Well sure. But you’re trying to be a man, right? You’ve got this goofy little childlike look about you. It’s those big eyes and the way you look at the world around you. It’s cute. It’s...naive.”

Childlike? I decided that she could absolutely not find out about this diaper.

“Maybe the world just hasn’t crushed my spirits yet.”

“Maybe you haven’t been living yet,” she retorted–a comment that felt as foreboding as it seemed likely.

I had been given very few instructions from Ms. Heller, and even the ones that she did give me were vague: “Use them. Come find me when you need to be changed.”

It had all happened so quickly that it seemed like a hazy dream now. One moment we were just talking in her office. The next, I was on the ground with my pants off and she was putting a diaper on me. I let her do that? Now, I was wondering if I was forgetting details. Was there more she had said that I was just forgetting?

Did she literally expect me to use the diaper?

The workday didn’t have much time left in it. 5:00 PM was on the horizon, and it seemed to be the division between those who were willing to drop everything–regardless of what they were doing–and those who were going to stay later until the work was done.

I didn’t know which side of that line Ms. Heller fell on, but I didn’t want to assume anything. Nor did I want to let her down. I carefully weighed my options and quickly came to a few decisions. I’d need to wet my diaper. And I’d need to find Ms. Heller. And I’d need to do both of those things by 5:00 PM.

It was 4:30.

My foot began tapping uncontrollably. I had never worn a diaper before. Not since I was an actual baby, anyways. And now I was going to...use it?

Who keeps diapers in their office anyways?

“You alright?” Lyndie asked, glancing down at my foot as it jackhammered its way into the ground.

“Oh...yeah. Thanks, I’m good.”

“You sound like you have ants in your pants.”

You have no idea what's in my pants right now. “Just...getting restless, you know? For the end of the day.”

She was mostly distracted by her phone, which seemed ideal for me. I didn’t dare walk past her again with my loud diaper, so I was just going to have to settle down and do it there. Right there. With her in the room.

There’s no way. There is absolutely no way that I can do this.

But...it suddenly felt way easier than it had moments earlier. I don’t know if it was the stress or the presence of the diapers or what–but I could suddenly feel my bladder begging for my attention.

Easy. This is easy. All I have to do is...pee.

Nothing. Nothing happened. Nothing came out of me. I had to pee, so why couldn’t I just pee? I tried again, making the most conscious, strenuous, effort to piss I’ve ever made in my life.

A tiny grunt escaped my mouth.

“Are you...sure that everything is okay with you?” Lyndie asked.

I feigned a cough, as if whatever she heard earlier was just...more of this? She either bought it, or never cared that much in the first place, because she was reading her phone again.

You can do it, you can do it, you can do it. It’s just...peeing. You do it all the time. You can do it anytime, anyplace. All you have to do is do it now. In...your pants. With Lyndie in the room.

I could feel it. I could just feel my bladder growing more desperate for release, no thanks to my efforts to provoke it. It felt close. Just a little more…

A little sigh of relief as I felt the hot spurt of my stream escape into my diaper. The warmth spread, and a wet heaviness enveloped all of the padding between my legs. It was weird. It was gross–or at least I was raised to believe such a feeling would be gross.

It was one of the most thrilling things I had ever done.

“It’s close enough to 5,” Lyndie said. “I’m outta here.”

“Yeah, go for it. Get out of here.”

She shot me a quizzical look. “Are you staying? Aren’t you leaving too?”

We had walked to the subway station together the last week or two. And...if I was going to stay, I’d need a good excuse as to why I was.

“You know what?” I said, shrugging dramatically. “I forgot that I have to print some shit out for school. I gotta take care of that for a few minutes. But I’ll see you tomorrow?”

She shrugged–the best form of acceptance she could offer. “Yeah, sure. Have a good night. Use up all the company’s ink.”

She was gone, the door was closed and it was just me and my diaper. I leaned back in my chair, plunging a hand down my pants to feel the saturated garment. The firm padding was so different compared to how it felt when dry.

I wanted to show her. I wanted to show Ms. Heller and make her proud of me.

What? Make her proud of me...peeing myself?

It was a complicated set of emotions. I had to focus. There’d be plenty of time to second-guess my strange life decisions later. Right now, I promised the head of my company that I’d use my diaper, and now I needed to show her that I had.

I gave Lyndie a few minutes head start before I ventured out of The Closet myself, but even with that buffer, I had never felt so self-conscious. It was as if a giant spotlight was shining on me. Any moment, someone, anyone, would spot me and would immediately be able to see not only what I was wearing under my clothes, but they would also know what I had done in them.

Realistically, logically, I knew this was unlikely. Still, this didn’t feel entirely implausible either. This diaper was thicker than any pair of boxers or briefs that any other man in this building wore, for one. I had also added what felt like a gallon of liquid to it. If the weighty sag of the bottom of my diaper wasn’t visible, then my forced waddle as a result of the wetting had to have been.

Down the maze-like corridors I went, yet again, dodging worker ants scrambling around to finish their end-of-day projects. Time may have been on my side after all.

“Mr. Ashworth,” a deadpan voice said from my side. “Here yet again?” Daniel seemed even less pleased to see me this time than he had earlier.

“Ashburn,” I corrected him, again. “I’m here to see…”

“Ms. Heller, yes?”

I nodded, though I wasn’t appreciating his tone.

He clucked his tongue - a cocky little passive aggressive gesture designed not to be challenged. He tapped a button on his phone. “Ms. Heller?”

A brief pause.

“The intern is back. Shall I take a message or… Right. Of course. One moment.”

With a sigh he hung up the phone. I wondered if it was going to be like this every time I came over here. I didn’t bother waiting for him to acknowledge her confirmation, I waved to him and walked to her office.

“Come in,” she said as my hand approached the door knob. “Close the door behind you,” she added as I stepped into her office.

“I didn’t catch you at a bad time or anything, did I?”

“There’s no such thing as a ‘bad time,’ my dear.” Her voice was seductive. She was a cartoon snake coiling around me and staring into my soul with her swirly hypnotic eyes.

I loved it.

“I...I did what you asked me to.”

She smiled, standing from behind her desk, her hungry hands rubbing together. “Is that so? And what, exactly, did you do?”

“I...well…”

“I can’t smell you from here, so I’m going to assume that you didn’t…”

“N-no,” I said, cutting her off. “I could never do that. Has...someone done that?”

She offered an innocent shrug and smiled. “A lot of things have happened in this building. I could tell you anything and you’d believe it. Let’s worry about you and what you actually have done in your pants.”

“How...do you want to do this?”

“You’ll stand right there, where you are.” She maneuvered around her desk and approached me. “I’m going to pull your pants down and have a look for myself.”

I nodded.

She hastily unbuckled my belt and unzipped my pants. “You’re very obedient. Compliant. Some people would say that’s a fault.”

“Do you feel that way?”

With a hand on either side of my pants, she tugged them down to my knees, exposing the plump swollen diaper that hung between my legs. She continued to speak as her hand gently cupped the bottom of the diaper, feeling how heavy and sodden it had become: “I am of the mind that there are two types of people–leaders and followers. And, contrary to popular belief, one is not more powerful than the other. Both need each other. Some may argue that there should be no leaders at all, but...inadvertently, there’s always a leader. There has to be. Myself? I’m a leader. You? You’re a follower. You need me. But I need you.”

“You need...me?”

“These diapers aren’t going to dirty themselves. And I’ve only just begun to play with my new toy.” She slowly slid the backs of her fingers up the front of the diaper. I felt myself stiffening inside of it. “Yes, I need you.”

I wasn’t sure what to say. Well, I knew what I wanted to say, but it didn’t seem relevant to anything she had just said: “Thank you.”

She laughed. “For what?”

“For letting me do this with you?” No, that didn’t sound right. I corrected myself: “For you.”

“You’re a good boy. I think we’re going to have fun.”

I nodded.

“Would you like for me to change your diaper?”

I had just assumed that this would be what happens next, and I would have been fine with that. Having agency over that decision was a pleasant surprise–though I realized that it might have just been the illusion of agency. “Yes.”

“Should I ask in the future?”

Betraying the thought I just had: “No.”

“I thought so. Let’s go, then. On the ground. On your back. We’ll get you into a clean and fresh diaper.”

“Oh, well...it’s the end of the day for me,” I said. “So I need to go home and…”

“I’m going to put you into another diaper. And I’m leaving it up to you what you do with it.”

She pulled some supplies from her closet. I couldn’t see what everything was, but I could see the bulky new diaper in her hand.

This wouldn’t stop feeling weird for a very long time, I suspected.

She knelt on the ground, shifting the hem of her short dress out from under her knees. Leaning forward and between my legs, she unfastened the tapes on both sides of the diapers. She eased back the front of the diaper through my legs, revealing my hardened cock.

She swirled a single finger in my moist pubic hair, giggling to herself.

“Do you have a girlfriend, Mr. Ashburn? A boyfriend?”

“No…” I said.

“So, nobody would miss your youthful coat of fur down here if I lopped it all off?”

“You...you’d do that?”

“I’d like to. How would you feel about that?”

It felt...different. She wasn’t suggesting something permanent, though it was something that would...linger. She’d leave her mark on me, and until the hair was back–if it was allowed to come back at all–I’d know it was her doing every time I saw myself in the mirror. It somehow felt like a step beyond just wearing a diaper for her.

But, of course, I just nodded my head.

“Excellent,” she said. “And what of this?” She grasped my cock in her hand, slowly letting her fingers run up the shaft before sliding them back down. “This seems...cumbersome. It’s probably difficult enough to wear a diaper around the office. But a diaper with this happy little fellow bopping around? Maybe we should do something about that too.”

“Like...what?”

“I have some ideas. For now, what if I just…”

Her grip tightened on my cock and her hand continued gliding up and down on my shaft. There was very little lubrication, and what was there was just the lingering droplets of my own piss. And seeing this attractive and powerful woman between my legs, rubbing my own urine into my cock only made me harder. It only made me want release even more. It only made me want…

I came, sloppily, launching a glob of white onto my belly. For an all-to-brief moment, I found myself awash in bliss, only to quickly remember where I was. And who I was with. My cheeks flared. I felt like a twelve year old boy again, making a mess of myself while I tried to discover my body.

“Now isn’t that just adorable,” Ms. Heller cooed. “That barely took a minute.”

I didn’t actually mind, given the circumstances, but my ego couldn’t just stand idly by without trying to offer an explanation. “Ah...well, you see…”

She planted something in my mouth, the soft rubber-like bulb pressed between my lips could only be a...pacifier.

“Enough out of you. You just let me clean you up and we’ll get you into a new clean diaper. I do believe we’ll need to do something about this pointy little toy of yours, but I believe I have some answers for that as well.”

I should’ve been paying better attention, but between my post-climax haze and the newborn oral fixation with the pacifier, I was a million miles away. I bit at it. Sucked on it. Ran my tongue around it. It was so simple. I could see how such a simple object might soothe a toddler.

The more I played with the shape in my mouth, the easier I found it to slip into a natural suckling motion.

Things were happening near my bottom. The feeling of a damp cloth running across my butt. Another, swooping up between my legs, and another tightly wrapping itself around my now-flaccid shaft.

“Do you live alone?” she asked.

“No,” I said through the pacifier. “Roommate.”

“Shall I spare you the baby powder?”

I nodded. I already knew I was going to be self-conscious about wearing the diaper out of this building and back to my apartment. But to smell like an actual infant? That seemed like more than I could handle.

But eventually…

The new diaper was slid under me, and she quickly folded it around me, securing it in place with the tapes. I’d hesitate to say that she was an expert–because maybe the process was far more intuitive than I knew. But she certainly had a level of comfort with it that I wouldn’t question.

I plucked the pacifier from my mouth. “Do you have children?”

“I do not,” she said. “Not for lack of trying. I suppose any psychologist would have a field day if they heard me say that while I put you into a diaper.”

She snatched the pacifier from my hand and popped it back into my mouth.

“When I put a pacifier in your mouth, however, it stays until I remove it. Is that understood?”

I nodded, feeling my cheeks glow again.

“I trust you know how to put your own pants on?”

I nodded once more.

That’s when she pulled the pacifier out from my mouth. “Good. I’l hold on to this. Why don’t you go and get dressed? I’ll see you tomorrow morning?”

“Will we do this...every day?”

“Do you want to do this every day?”

I started to shrug, but I stopped. I nodded instead.

She smiled. “Come see me in the morning when you get here.”

“Your assistant. Daniel?”

She scoffed. “What about him?”

“He’s...nosey. I don’t want to say ‘suspicious,’ because I don’t know if I’m right or not, but…”

“Say no more. I’ll deal with that. You just be here tomorrow morning. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I don’t care for ‘ma’am,’” she said. “I asked you to call me Mommy, remember?”

“Yes…Mommy.”

[Quite-Tiff]

This is so good, can't wait to see where it goes.

[kirababy]

Love the power dyanamic, and look forward to seeing more of it.

[quietlyhumiliated]

Three

So, how is my new internship going? Well, funny you should ask. The CEO of my company has asked me to be her personal office plaything and has convinced me to wear–and use–diapers while calling her ‘Mommy.’ You know, it’s a really rewarding experience. One that will surely benefit my career aspirations.

While I hadn’t actually said that to my roommate when he asked how my internship was going, I had been trying to imagine how absurd it would’ve sounded if I said the truth. There didn’t seem to be a way to present it that didn’t look crazy, however.

“Want to go down to the cafeteria with me and grab some coffee?” Lyndie asked soon after I arrived at The Closet.

I felt my cheeks warm a little. It’d be hard to explain why I couldn’t, but…I couldn’t. I had other obligations.

“Maybe I’ll meet up with you in a little bit,” I said. “I’ve got to go see…HR.”

“Really? How come?” It didn’t come off as doubt, just curiosity. Which was probably the better of the two options, though I’d rather she just didn’t ask questions at all.

“Just a little snafu with the intern paperwork from the school, I think. Nothing serious.”

“Huh,” she said. “Do you think I should go too? Make sure all my stuff is in order?”

“N-no, I think you’re probably good,” I said. “Or…you know, they’d call you down if they needed you to.”

She shrugged. “Whatever. Alright, I guess I’ll see you later.”

While seeming like a pretty mundane situation, it had served as a reminder of the potential stakes of this strange new world I was entering with Ms. Heller. I’d need better excuses, and more of them.

It was the most confident trip I had made to Ms. Heller’s office yet, with barely any doubts about the path I was supposed to take.

“Good morning, Clark.”

It wasn’t the bitter-sounding tone of Daniel that I expected. It was Ms. Heller herself, waiting for me in the hallway, beckoning for me to follow her into the office.

“Good morning,” I said. Just talking to her made my cheeks flush with warm blood. It was astonishing how quickly she managed to have a hold on me.

No sooner than I had stepped into her office, I saw that a diaper was already waiting for me atop her desk. It just sat there in clear view, as if it was a pad of paper or her phone. I tried to imagine how she’d react if it was someone else walking into her office right now–would she have quickly hidden it? Or did it just stay out like that?

At her level, would anyone even dare question it if they thought they saw a large diaper on her desk?

“No Daniel today?” I asked.

“Starting today, Daniel will no longer be part of the company,” she said, closing the door to her office.

“Oh…”

“He won’t be giving you trouble any longer.”

“Did you…fire him?”

“Let him go,” she said. “It’s less harsh. And he got a severance too.”

“But…I’m just an intern,” I said. “He…he was a full time employee and…”

“I know when someone isn’t a good fit for my company,” she said. “If it makes you feel better, I can assure you that I already had my doubts about him. Besides, it’s not like I’ll be going without help for much longer.”

I opened my mouth, speaking like a true naive little boy: “Oh, are you hiring someone new to replace him?”

She smiled. “I have someone in mind, yes. But why don’t we talk about that later? For now, we ought to get you in today’s diaper.”

“Oh, well actually…”

“No chit-chat, Clark. On the ground now. On your back.”

I thought I had something else to contribute, a relevant tidbit as it were, but I wasn’t about to give her the impression that I was being defiant. I did as she asked, quickly flattening myself on the ground.

“That’s a good little boy,” she said. The pacifier was in her hand again, and she pressed it between my lips. Unlike the last time, I was ready for it. In fact, I welcomed it. “That’s a good baby. Suckle on that while Mommy takes care of you.”

She took my shoes off, setting them aside. I held my breath as she slid my pants down my legs. I knew what she was going to see–the very thing I was going to tell her of a moment ago, had I been allowed to talk.

“Well now,” she said. “This is a surprise. You’ve come to me pre-diapered today?”

I shook my head.

“Ah yes.” Her smile grew in size. “This is the same diaper you left my office in yesterday.”

I nodded.

“It’s…heavy.” She took a long slow drag of the air around my diaper through her nose. “A little stinky too. Old pee, hmm?”

I shrugged. I thought I would’ve defended myself. I would’ve explained why I was still wearing that diaper. But in the moment, suckling on the rubber bulb of the pacifier as she knelt between my legs, it didn’t seem all that important to. Surely, she could figure it out on her own.

She did. “I suspect someone would much rather have me change their diaper for them.”

My cheeks felt as if they were glowing. It had been a hard night. Not only did I need to hide my crinkling diaper from my roommate, but I had to limit the amount I ate and drank–as to ensure that I didn’t fill the diaper beyond a capacity where I couldn’t wear it to work the next day.

“This feels like a gift to me,” she said. “The little puppy rolling over and showing me his belly.”

I nodded. She could see right through me.

Her hand reached out and began to slowly rub my stomach. “You wet this diaper a bit, but… You went the whole night, and the whole morning, without taking the diaper off?”

“Mmhmm,” I moaned through the pacifier.

“My word. And you spent the whole day yesterday in a diaper, just wetting it once for me. Isn’t that right?”

I nodded once more.

“Well then you’re holding back on me. I bet you’re full of all kinds of things that you’re just holding onto, hmm?”

My bladder needed release again. My bowels too. It hadn’t been terrible until this morning, when the waves of cramping pains would start washing over me.

“That’s no good,” she said. “Quite unhealthy. You’re going to have to get it all out.”

I opened my mouth, letting the pacifier tumble out from my lips and onto the ground next to me. “N-no… I’m okay.”

“You realize that now that you’re expected to wear diapers, the restrooms are off limits to you, yes?”

“Well…”

“Clark. Baby. Let me spell it out for you: Your options are to either hold it in all day long, have an actual accident in your diapers while you work, or to take this opportunity here and now–in my office–to do your dirty business and then let me change you into a fresh diaper.”

The optimist in me thought that I might just be able to last another day. Then, tonight, I’d go home and spend an hour on the toilet. The realist in me knew I’d never make it. Given the choice of using the diaper in front of Ms. Heller, or at some unknown time–but probably while in the Closet–using the diaper in front of Lyndie, I knew what the better choice was.

“Just go,” she said. “Let it all out.”

“But…”

“Do I need to buy a strap to keep this in your mouth?” she asked, picking up the pacifier and popping it back into my mouth again. “I can assume you see the logic in not waiting an entire day to use a potty, yes?”

I sighed, nodding once more.

“Good. So it’s settled, then? You’ll stay here until you’ve done your business in the diaper. And then I’ll change you.” She stood up.

I knew I probably shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t just let this moment pass without saying something. I spit the pacifier out into my hand, propping my upper body up a little bit. “You want me to just stay in…here? All day? In your office? Until I…”

She crossed her arms in front of her as she looked down at me. “I thought it was all rather clear. But, maybe it’s harder to understand when you’re just a little baby. Let me see if I can say it in a way that you can understand it better.” She took on a sarcastic and condescending tone: “Wittle baby is gonna stay in Mommy’s office until he makes his poopies in his wittle pampers. Is that better?”

My mouth opened to respond–but, really, what was I going to say? Even if she hadn’t made her expectations clear–and she did–I wasn’t going to last another day.

“Am I to take this silence as compliance?” she asked.

I nodded.

“Very good. I don’t imagine you have much to do this morning, yes? I think you’ll be fine just waiting here until you’re able to do your, uh, business.” She chuckled to herself, seemingly delighted by the use of ‘business.’

She was right. Were I back in The Closet again, I’d be doing school work while listening to Lyndie complain about something. I gave her another affirmative nod.

“Well some of us are busy mommies who have work to do,” she said, returning to her desk. “I want you to stay right there on the floor, and I don’t want you to get up until you’ve gone and filled up that diaper. I don’t care how long it takes. And, after you’re done, I want you to tell me.”

And just like that, she moved on with her morning, leaving me on the floor. No pants, just a diaper. The room had fallen quiet, save for the quiet rustling of the wet diaper and the clacking of her typing at her computer.

It was yesterday all over again. All I had to do was use the diaper–something that should be no problem at all, given the pressure in my bowels–but there was this psychological block preventing me from just letting go. My body knew where I was supposed to do this, and it wasn’t a diaper.

But I had time. All day, if needed.

I wondered what Lyndie was doing by herself in The Closet. Was she thinking about me? Wondering where I was? Would she question my absence when I returned? What believable excuse could I possibly use?

I had to close my eyes and concentrate to do it, but I was at least able to wet myself again. It was such a relief to ease at least some of the tension in my body. The already-sopping diaper grew warm again, and I felt the wetness spread to new areas of the diaper as the liquid sought new padding to saturate. It would’ve been blissful if I hadn’t recognized another new feeling on my legs.

I took the pacifier out of my mouth. “Ms. Heller?”

“I won’t be answering to that name again while we’re in my office,” she said, without looking away from her computer.

“Uhm…Mommy?”

She smiled, now turning her face towards me. “Yes, sweetkins? Did baby do a boom boom in his diaper?”

“N-no.”

“Well then why are we talking?”

“Well…I’m, uhm, peeing. And I think the diaper is…leaking?”

“That’s fine,” she said. “You know what to do to get a fresh one.”

“But…it’s leaking onto your carpet and–”

“We have an exceptional cleaning staff, Baby. Why don’t you let Mommy worry about cleaning up after your puddles, okay? You just go back to working on that special little project I gave you.”

“Yes, okay.”

She tilted her head, as if expecting me to say something specific. I knew what she wanted to hear.

“Yes, Mommy.”

Another cramp rolled through my abdomen. Inside of me, it was war. I wanted to wait. But I also wanted release.

I wanted to fill my diaper while sitting in a puddle on the floor of my boss’s office.

The phone rang. “This is Gabby.”

I tried to listen intently, even if I was just getting half of the conversation. Listening to this company’s CEO talking business on the phone felt like a privilege and an honor. And while I never doubted her ability to lead, it was hearing her wield her power that further proved to me why she was running the company.

“I heard what you said you wanted to do,” Ms. Heller said to the person on the other end of the call. “But I want to know what you’re going to do.”

Her tone on the call wasn’t surprising to me–even if I had never heard this tone for myself before. She was, after all, CEO. Maybe there were exceptions, but I doubt that few made it to that level of the corporate ladder without having an edge to them.

I struggled to find the word to best describe how I felt. ’Comfort’ came closest, though it did feel like a strange word to use. Outside of this office, hundreds of people were starting their workdays. Coffee was being brewed, computers were being turned on, meeting invites were being sent out. And yet there I was, sitting on the CEO’s floor in a diaper, listening to her berate someone who I’d probably never have to interact with myself. It reminded me of being an actual child–sitting in my own little bubble, completely unaware of the real world moving around me.

I tuned in again, having spaced out for a moment: “...and I simply don’t find that acceptable,” she was saying. “Previously, you gave me your word that this situation was going to be taken care of. That was, what, two weeks ago? I wasn’t even thinking about it, because I sincerely believed that you were going to take care of it then. But this still hasn't been resolved?”

I wasn’t even sure if she was speaking to the same person anymore. Slowly, her voice faded into the background as I focused on my diaper once again. This swollen soggy lump between my legs. I was in need of a change–nobody could deny that. Ms. Heller knew that too, though she demanded one more thing. One more, tiny little insignificant thing.

I just had to poop my pants.

My mind flipped through the archives, trying to remember if I had any memory of ever having done such a dirty thing. But I was coming up empty. As best as I could recall, I had never faltered on my potty training.

On one hand, this would be quite the streak to be breaking now. On the other…this wouldn’t be an ‘accident.’ It’s not an accident if you do it on purpose–if that sort of thing actually mattered to me.

Did it?

“...and there are three different reports that came to the same conclusion about where those numbers are trending,” she was saying on the phone.

I didn’t want to poop my pants. Yet, I wasn’t sure what other way there was out of this situation. If I stood up, put my pants on, and walked out the door–what would she even do?

Cancel the internship? Did I even care about that? No, not especially.

Fuck. I knew the truth: I did want to poop my pants. I mean, no, that specific act didn’t sound fun in itself. But I wanted to make Ms. Heller happy. I wanted to play her game. If she made me dress up like a mouse and put me in a giant wheel to run in all day, I probably would’ve done that too. I wouldn’t have liked it. But I would’ve liked earning her approval.

So how do I do this now? How do I just…poop?

“...have to run it again. We can’t afford not to at this point. If we’re going to hit our expected growth then…”

It had taken me most of a workday to piss myself. I wondered how long I’d be sitting here on her floor. Two weeks?

I felt another pang of discomfort in my guts. No, I was pretty sure it wouldn’t take two weeks, and it wouldn’t take me all day either. I wasn’t sure what had changed, but I could feel something was different. All I had to do was give my body the command, and I knew I’d be able to empty myself into the diaper.

“...not happy about it, plain and simple. Do you understand…”

It was getting harder to focus on her voice. All I could think about now was the diaper between my legs and what I would be doing in it soon. Any minute now. Whenever I was ready.

It happened a few times: I’d psyche myself up, take a deep breath, close my eyes and begin to push. Then, as I’d start to feel my sphincter reacting to my demands, I’d shut it all down.

This is really going to happen. It could happen at any moment I want.

For as long as I held it, I felt like I was still Clark Ashburn. I was still in a strange spot, but a normal life still felt like it was within my grasp.

But once I let go…I felt like the world was going to change. I’d be hers, and I’d have declared to her that she could make me do anything she wanted. This would be the very tip of the iceberg.

“...and that’s what I’m saying,” she said into the phone. “You need to trust me and…”

Okay, fine. Here we go.

I released an embarrassingly long fart into the diaper–a low-end bass tone that seemed to reverberate in the sodden garment. It was too late to stop it now, and it seemed to play out in slow motion. I pushed everything out of my body, and I felt the mass creep out from me, slowly filling the limited space between my legs. And when that was filled, it seemed to seep into any other available space.

It was a relief to have finished. I almost didn’t care about the absurdity of it all. Did I just shit myself in a diaper on the floor of Gabrielle Heller’s office? It didn’t matter. For a moment, I just felt good. I…felt proud of myself; like I had accomplished something.

It was the smell of the diaper, whacking me in the face, that brought me back to reality.

Oh shit. It smelled foul. Of course it did–it was supposed to. Yet somehow I hadn’t thought about this part of it, and now I burned with humiliation. Sitting in my own stink. My own filth. Was I really any different than an actual baby?

“...have lots of things to consider. I think you and I need to set up a meeting and…” This time, it wasn’t my focus that was fading. It was her voice. I could see it on her face as she looked down at me–she smelled my diaper for the first time. “Actually,” she said into the phone. “I’m going to have to call you back. I have an entirely different kind of mess to take care of here.”

She hung up the phone and stared down at me without saying a word. It was probably just a few seconds, but it felt like hours. She She slowly stood, her hands on her hips. She was smiling.

“Has anyone ever told you that they’re proud of you for filling up a diaper?”

“No,” I said. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, today’s your lucky day.” She circled around her desk, walking closer to me. She took in a few more deep breaths through her nose. “I am very proud of you.”

I exhaled, realizing that I had been holding my breath. It felt official now–I was hers. This was just the beginning.

“Such a stinky, stinky, little boy. Do you have anything to say for yourself, baby?”

I thought about it for a moment. I wanted to say something, but I wanted it to count. I wanted to tell her that I was all in. I wanted her to know that she could have her way with me–whatever way that was.

But, surely, she already knew that.

So I opened my mouth and just said the first thing that came to mind: “I…need to be changed, Mommy.”

[maly]

oooh Clark is well and truly down the rabbit hole!

Maly.

[quietlyhumiliated]

Four

This week, the cafeteria will be rolling out some tasty new options for us, including grilled chicken sandwiches and macaroni and cheese–made fresh daily.

And, by special request, animal crackers and apple juice have been added to the shelves near checkout.

—

“I…need to be changed, Mommy.”

She didn’t respond. Or, at least, she didn’t say anything. But I watched her smile grow. She was absolutely delighted with everything happening in front of her. I could see it in her eyes–this was the best case scenario. I was turning out to be exactly the person she wanted me to be.

She spun around abruptly and walked away from me, back to the supply cabinet she kept the supplies for big babies such as myself.

“I’m afraid you don’t get a choice on whether or not I use baby powder this time,” she said, setting down the items she had pulled out of storage for this diaper change.

“But…”

She was ready for me, artfully plugging my mouth shut with the pacifier.

“Lie on your back, Baby. Let Mommy take care of your smelly bottom.”

I did so, slowly exhaling as my back reached the carpet. I wanted to spit out the pacifier and further protest the use of baby powder, but I found the pacifier’s presence in my mouth to be soothing and distracting. As intended.

“I know, I know,” she said, peeling back the tapes on either side of the diaper. “You’re afraid that you’re going to smell like a baby all day while you’re here in the office. But is that such a bad thing? Are you not just a baby?”

I wasn’t going to react. But if I was going to, I wasn’t sure if I would’ve nodded or shook my head.

“Besides,” she continued, “it’s probably better that you smell like a clean baby instead of the dirty little poopy-pants you smell like right now. Isn’t that right?”

I nodded that time. I wasn’t sure that I agreed with her or not, but it felt like the right answer.

“And everytime you catch a whiff of yourself today, I want you to think about how it’s because you’re a baby. And Mommy put all this lovely powder on you.”

I wished I could’ve reacted in a different way, but I was still learning how to cope with this surge of new and strange emotions that left me…very erect.

“Ah, would you look at who it is,” she said, playfully batting at my stiffness. “This little fella again. “Isn’t that interesting? Wearing an absolutely filthy diaper in the office of your boss, and yet you’re still hard as a rock.”

The temptation was strong to take out the pacifier and attempt to defend myself, but I wasn’t even sure what I’d say. Sorry for being turned on by being made to poop my pants.

Thankfully, she didn’t need me to respond. She grabbed my hand and led it to my cock. “You’ve given me enough to do with this little mess. I’ll let you take care of your silly little boy-needs yourself. But I’ll still watch.”

For a split second, I considered doing nothing. Despite the erection, I wasn’t sure that I wanted to further humiliate myself.

But I was wrong. By the time I realized that I was incredibly turned on by everything that was happening, I realized that my hand was already stroking my cock.

“That’s it,” she said. “Be a good little boy and make yet another little mess for Mommy to have to clean up.”

I stroked myself even harder, feeling the tense friction between my skin and the shaft.

“You like this?” she cooed. “Touching yourself while you lie in your smelly diaper? The one you pissed and shit in? Are you a dirty little baby?”

“Yes,” I moaned. “Y-yes…”

“Are you just a dirty little piggy? Mommy’s little piglet?”

“F-fuck… Yes! Yes, Mommy! Yes…”

“Say it,” she said. “Tell me what you are.”

“I…I’m a dirty little…piglet. Mommy’s stinky little diaper-pig. Mommy’s little…” But my mind went blank as I reached climax. The world around me went white and faded out of existence. It was just me, the thick mass between my legs, and the feeling of sticky goo running through my fingers and dripping down my shaft.

“I think you’re ready for a diaper change now,” she said, somewhere outside of the pocket dimension I was floating inside of.

When I fully came to again, I was standing up and fully dressed. I could feel the thickness of the new diaper in my pants, just as I could hear its crisp crinkles–unyet sullied by multiple wettings. The last few minutes had been obscured by fog. I was a little disappointed that I had been out-of-body as she actually changed the diaper, yet I suspected that I’d get plenty more opportunities to experience that later.

I took a sniff of the air. There were a lot of scents bombarding my nose at once. Baby powder. The lingering stench of my old diaper–now bundled up in a plastic bag on the floor. And sweat. My own, assumedly.

“Well now,” she said. “There you go. Changed and ready for another big day.”

With my hand on the doorknob, I realized that the pacifier was still in my mouth. I sheepishly let it drop from my lips and into my hand. It could’ve been just a silly oversight on my part, but I wondered if I’d see this exacerbate over time. It was a reminder that for as deep as I would fall into Ms. Heller’s wild world, I’d need to keep a foot in reality too.

I tried to hand the pacifier back to her, but she shook her head. “Why don’t you hold onto that. Just in case you get fussy later.”

I slipped the pacifier into my pocket with a sigh. I doubted that I’d ever get ‘fussy,’ but the idea of carrying around additional reminders of my new role was exciting.

“Before you go,” she said, with the slightest bit of hesitancy, “I have something else I’d like to ask you.”

“Oh?” My mind quickly raced, trying to guess what she’d throw at me now. Would I have to do some other ridiculous task for her? Eat a jar of baby food in front of Lyndie? Call my mother and tell her I’m wearing a diaper? The worst part of all that speculation was, of course, that I’d at least consider anything she said.

“There’s an open position now, with Daniel’s departure. It’d be a full-time job, of course. But with pay and benefits.”

“Are you asking if I’d want to be your assistant?”

She nodded. “Technically, human resources would want to be involved. There’d be this whole process of posting the job internally and interviewing candidates and whatnot. But, as you know, I wield a good amount of power around here. I can make it happen.”

“Wow, I…” It was a crossroads I didn’t expect to be in. This was an internship. I was in school. To take on a full time job now, I wasn’t even sure how I could make that work.

“You, obviously, don’t need to make that decision right now. But, I’d like it if you considered it.”

“I’m flattered,” I said. “But what makes you think I’m qualified for that position?”

“All you have to do is do what I tell you to. And you’ve done a very good job of that so far.”

I was blushing again. I opened my mouth to reply, but I didn’t know what to say.

“Go,” she said. “We can talk about it later. You’ll be coming back to me when you need a change, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Yes?” she asked.

Oh, right. “Yes, Mommy.”

“Good boy. I’ll see you later.”

It wasn’t my first walk back to The Closet with a new diaper on, but I had never felt more exposed. The gentle, but omnipresent, crinkling that came with every step was one thing. But I could smell the baby powder emanating from my bottom. It surrounded me like a cloud, and I just knew that it’d follow me around wherever I went.

I was tempted to just leave the office altogether. Besides Lyndie and Ms. Heller, would anyone even notice that I was gone? Maybe it’d be better to play hooky rather than cram myself into a small room with Lyndie.

No, I couldn’t do that. Ms. Heller would be expecting me to return for a diaper change and I wasn’t about to let her down.

Which meant that I’d have to return to The Closet and face Lyndie. I tried to keep an optimistic mindset about it. Maybe she wouldn’t notice. Maybe she’d have nothing to say. Maybe all my worrying was for nothing and it wasn’t actually that big of a deal.

“Where have you been, and why do you smell like a baby?” she asked immediately as I entered our small office.

My heart sank and I instantly felt queasy.

“Like…a baby?”

“I dunno,” she said with a shrug, half-looking up from her laptop. “It didn’t smell like that a minute ago. Now it smells like my baby niece’s nursery in here.”

Sighing, I sat down next to her, opening up my own laptop. I debated on what the move was going to be. Did I even bother attempting to play dumb? Or did I just tell her? Maybe I didn’t even need to tell her everything. Just a little bit.  But I had no idea what ‘a little bit’ would even be. That didn’t stop me from starting a conversation, with the hopes that I’d figure it out when I had to.

“Can I run a hypothetical by you?” I asked.

“I guess,” she said. “Sure.”

“Let’s say that a...celebrity walks up to you on the street. One that you know, but who clearly wouldn’t know who you are. They’re sexy and famous, and it feels like a huge honor for you to see them in person, let alone have the chance to talk to them.”

She shrugged, seemingly willing to play along. “I’m going to pretend it’s...Harry Styles. Okay?”

“Yes, that’s fine.”

“Yum.”

“So...Harry, right? He’s like: ‘Hey, I want to do this crazy sex thing with you.’ And you, obviously, want that opportunity, right?”

“Like, how crazy are we talking? Is he just showing me a paddle? Or does he want to cook me and eat me?”

I was trying to think of a good example, and I just riffed off the top of my head. “Let’s say he wants to give you an enema.”

“Not really my thing. But, if that’s what Harry wants…”

“Okay, but here’s the thing. He’s not going to tell a soul about this. It’s only going to be you and him who knows this ever happened. You could go and tell other people about this, but they’re not going to believe you when you say that Harry Styles gave you an enema.”

“I dunno,” she said. “That doesn’t seem so bad to me. Is that what this is about? Do you want Harry Styles to give you an enema?”

“Ok, wait. This analogy isn’t working…”

“Clark, is someone from the office trying to give you an enema?”

I winced. My attempts to craft a hypothetical situation had landed Lyndie much closer to the truth than I was comfortable with.

I decided to start over again: “There’s a woman here. She’s management. Like...real big important management. She’s kind of singled me out on account of being a new and naive little intern and she’s made it abundantly clear that she’d like for me to be her…” I couldn’t even finish the sentence. I wasn’t sure how to.

“To be her what? Plaything?”

“Something like that. She has power, you know? Power over me. I see something in her that I really like and respect and I...want to be the person she wants me to be.”

“So…this isn’t hypothetical? This is really happening?”

I sighed, debating on how I was going to answer that.

“Oh shit,” she said. “It is, isn’t it? Who? Who is making you into their little sex slave?”

“I’m…not a sex slave.”

“Then what are you?” she asked.

I shrugged, completely exasperated. “Plaything seemed more accurate.”

“So what’s the issue here?” she asked. “Like, I find it hard to believe anyone wanted you to be their little interoffice toy. But, assuming you’re telling the truth…isn’t this all a good thing? The best possible outcome for a stupid and boring internship?”

“I guess that’s what I’m trying to figure out. There’s a lot at stake...but that could go both ways. If we get caught, it might look just as bad for her as it does for me. She has potentially a far greater height to fall from. But I could lose my chance of ever climbing the ladder to begin with.”

“Which seems like a pretty good argument against pursuing it.”

“Except…” I said, slowly.

“Except you want what she’s offering. Pretty badly, I’m guessing?”

“Yeah.”

“I mean, you probably don’t need me to tell you it’s a bad idea. It’s selfish, irresponsible and could have long term ramifications for you.”

“I know.”

Lyndie sighed, adding: “But...fuck. I’m hella jealous right now. Do you have any idea how often I fantasize about my boss pulling my pants down and fucking my ass in the copy room?”

“So…?”

“I dunno. I mean, I’m not going to be the angel on your shoulder.”

Now that I’ve said it all aloud–and I had said far more than I had expected to–I wondered where we went from here.

“You only live once,” she said.

“So you think I should do this?”

“I would.”

I silently nodded as I pondered over what I’d do next.

“Are you going to tell me what Boss Lady wants out of you?”

I shifted in my chair, feeling my diaper crumple and crinkle beneath me. I had already wet it a little on the way back from Ms. Heller’s office–a little experiment to see if I could.

“Kinky stuff,” I said with a shrug. I thought I was revealing a lot, but given her blank stare, I realized I hadn’t said much at all.

“Clark, I bet everything is kinky to you. Do you think getting tied up is kinky? Getting paddled?”

“Yes?”

She rolled her eyes.

I wanted to get it off my chest; all of it. If I could trust anyone with it, maybe it was Lyndie. Not that I knew her especially well, but did I have much to lose in telling her? We didn’t know each other outside of the internship. No mutual friends. No other connections. Worst case scenario, if I quit and never came back, I’d never see her again.

“It’s...weird,” I said. “Embarrassing.”

“Okay. Well, look. I’m not gonna sit here and guess all day. But if you do wanna talk about it, just remember that I said that you can tell me and…”

I blurted it out: “She has me wearing diapers!” It was a relief to get it off my chest. But the uncomfortable silence that had followed made me second guess myself.

“Diapers?” she finally asked.

I nodded. “Yeah. Have you…ever heard of anything like that?”

“Age play,” she said. “Yeah. Never really got into it myself. But I kind of get the appeal. Control and mommy issues and all that.”

“I don’t have mommy issues.”

“Are you going to call her ‘mommy’?”

“I’m not going to answer that question.”

She laughed. “How do you feel about it? Interested? Adamantly opposed?”

“Oh...quite interested.”

“Really?” She sat back in her chair and laughed. I watched her scanning me with her eyes, maybe trying to imagine me in a diaper. “I would’ve never guessed that it’d be your thing. But, I dunno. I can kind of see it. You got that cute little boy thing going on.”

“I…I’m not a…”

“Wait,” she said, sliding forward on her chair. “Are you wearing a diaper right now?”

“Uhm…”

“Shit. Holy fucking shit. You’re wearing a diaper right now, aren’t you?”

I wanted to deny it, but I was sure that she already knew the answer. “Yeah.”

“I want to see.”

“What? No way! I can’t just…”

“Look around us, Clark. No windows. They stuck us in a closet. Nobody else is going to see.”

“I can’t just pull down my pants for you.”

“No? I’ll do it. Right now. Say the word and I’ll just pull down my pants.”

“Yeah, but…” I wanted to tell her that it wasn’t the same thing–she wasn’t, as far as I knew, wearing a diaper.

But she was already standing, and with one fluid motion, she had pushed her pants to her thighs, exposing her purple panties to me. I wished I had the ability to make this moment about that. Her tight panties on her cute body, right in front of my face–were this any other time, this would’ve been the highlight of my day. My week. My year. Now? It was a bizarre footnote in a day in which I shit myself on the floor of the CEO’s office and showed my diaper to my only peer. She quickly pulled her pants back up, forever letting that moment seem like a fever dream that I had only hallucinated.

“Fine,” I said. I stood up and did the same. For the second time that day, I pulled my pants down to show someone my diaper.

“Fuck,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief. “That’s a fucking diaper.”

“I know.”

“And who is making you do this?”

“Nobody is making me do anything,” I said.

“Okay, sure sure. Who are you, uh, trying to please?”

“Gabrielle Heller.”

“Oh, you mentioned her the other day. What does she do here again?”

“She’s the, uh, CEO…”

“Oh, wow. Clark. You…really got yourself into something, haven’t you?”

“That’s an understatement.”

An awkward silence hung in the air for a few moments.

“Alright, well, you can pull up your pants,” she finally said.

I hadn’t even realized my pants were still down, the diaper still on display. In my rush to pull them back up again, I heard something tumble onto the ground. Probably a pen or my keys or something like that.

“Here, you dropped something,” Lyndie said, bending down to pick up whatever had fallen.

“Thanks,” I said, reaching towards her, not even thinking about what it could be.

“Oh,” she said, a smile growing on her face. She held the item in front of her face–both to get a better look at it and to taunt me with it. It was the pacifier. “Well isn’t this interesting?”

“Can…I have that back?”

“Will you throw a temper tantrum if I don’t?” she teased.

I felt frustrated for a moment before remembering what Ms. Heller had said about me needing the pacifier in case I had become ‘fussy.’ This might have been ‘fussy.’

“N-no…I just–”

“I’ll give it back to you,” she said. “Open wide so I can put it right where it belongs.”

I didn’t even think about it–I just opened my mouth and let her slide the pacifier between my lips as I had when Ms. Heller had done so.

“Well isn’t that the cutest thing?” she cooed. “Maybe you should leave that in. I’m sure your new Mommy would like that.”

And just like that, my weird days had gotten even weirder.

[Babypants]

I'm curious as to how the boss sanitizes her office to keep the cleaning staff from catching on.  And Clark and Lyndie should be considering more possibilities ... will the boss want to take this from a 9 to 5 to a 24/7 relationship?  Does she already have an adult baby at home?  When something seems too good to be true, it generally isn't.  

[quietlyhumiliated]

Five

In the closed confines of The Closet, we stared at each other. The pacifier remained planted in my mouth, as it had been for the last ten minutes. Everytime I made a move to take it out, she’d stop me.

“I have questions,” Lyndie said.

I finally spit out the pacifier. She didn’t have a reaction to that this time. “I’m sure you do.”

“Can I get honest answers from you?”

“I don’t know.”

It wouldn’t be hard to guess what some of the questions would be, and none of the answers would be fun to say out loud to her. And while I didn’t really owe her any answers, I was probably making my work-life experience potentially worse by refusing to answer. Maybe I’d lie. Maybe I’d be honest. I needed to know the questions first.

“So has Gabrielle done this before?” she asked. It was strange hearing Lyndie refer to her as ‘Gabrielle.’ Maybe that’s how most people referred to her. Ms. Heller, herself, had answered the phone as ‘Gabby’ earlier. But that didn’t feel like the name I’d use. I felt obligated to show respect. Ms. Heller in my mind. ‘Mommy’ out loud.

“I think so. Maybe not exactly this? But…things like this.”

“And are those diapers functional?” she asked.

I inhaled sharply. She was asking one thing, but she was really asking something else. I answered the literal question, knowing there’d be a follow-up: “They are functional. You could use them. If you wanted to. They work.”

She nodded, likely noting my ability to dance around the implied questions.

“Okay,” she said. “But are you using them?”

I wasn’t sure what I was going to say before I said it. Yet I gave her the truth: “I…have to.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” she said.

“I agreed to.”

“And what do you get in return?”

I didn’t know the answer to that question–it wasn’t one that I had ever asked myself previously. But I didn’t take this to mean that there wasn’t an answer. It just meant that that answer had yet to be defined. The answer was a feeling in my body.

“I don’t know,” I said, chuckling a little to myself.

“Were I you,” she replied, “I think I’d want a better answer before I start pissing in diapers in the office.”

“I like it.” I didn’t so much say it as I did blurt it. “I like the way…she treats me.”

“Is it, like, the attention?”

I shrugged. “Maybe. Attention, combined with power. Combined with humiliation.”

She shook her head, laughing again. “Sounds like a dream come true, then.”

“You think?”

“There’s, what, hundreds of people in this office? All the interns and entry-level grunt workers they’ve had over the years? And you get chosen to be the kinky plaything of the most powerful woman in the company? Crazy.”

“I can pass your name along, if you want,” I said. “Maybe Ms. Heller has room for another baby in her life.”

“Not really my thing,” she said.

“I would’ve said the same thing if someone told me this last week.”

“But now look at you. You’re wearing a diaper.”

She was missing my point, but it didn’t feel important to try and convince her otherwise.

“So?” she said, seemingly circling back on a previous question. My mind was in so many places at once that I wasn’t even sure what she was referring to.

“So?”

“She’s making you use the diapers?”

“Yeah…”

“Fuck,” she said, once more shaking her head.

“Do you…like that? I can’t tell.”

“I don’t want to, like, be you,” she said with a smirk. “I don’t want to be told to piss my pants. But, goddamn, what a power move. Can you even imagine? Having such a commanding presence that you can ask some nobody to piss in a diaper, and they do?”

“Hey…”

“Oh come on,” she said, laughing. “I’m a nobody too.”

“Look, nobody can know about this,” I said. “You probably shouldn’t know anything at all, and I definitely can’t have this get back to Ms. Heller.”

“I don’t buy that,” she said.

“What do you mean?”

“Clark. She made you walk through this entire building while wearing a thick ass diaper filled with baby powder. She doesn’t give two shits if anyone finds out about you.”

“But…”

She shrugged. “It’s another power move, right? She knows you’ll keep her involvement secret, because you have to work twice as hard to hide the fact that you’re a giant toddler now. Incredible, really. I want her to, like, be my mentor.”

“It’s probably best that there’s only one of her in the world.”

“So when are you supposed to go see her again? Do you have to, like, check in with her every so often?”

“Well, I have to report to her when I, uhm, need a–”

“Diaper change?” she asked, eyes wide with excitement.

“Yeah.”

“Holy shit, that’s so incredible. So it’s not enough that you have to waddle around in the office, peeing your diaper, but you also have to get your diaper changed by her? Like a little baby?”

“I think you’ve got it all figured out,” I said, following with an exhausted sigh. There was more, and no doubt she knew that too. There was me messing myself in Ms. Heller’s office. Being made to pleasure myself in front of her before getting changed. The offer to work as her assistant. Details that were better off keeping to myself. Maybe for just today–maybe forever in some cases.

“Just when I thought this stupid soul-crushing shitstain of a company had nothing to offer me–you come through with all the entertainment I could’ve possibly wanted.”

“You can keep this between us?” I asked. “Right?”

“I want to tell everyone I know,” she said. “So badly. But…”

My heart pounded so fast that I wondered if she could hear it. “But?”

“But I won’t. It’s rare that you get to sit so close to the trainwreck that you can…” she took a long drag of the air through her nose, “...smell it.”

“Thanks,” I said, feeling entirely deflated. This had been an incredibly exhausting day already, and it wasn’t even lunch yet.

Time seemed to crawl forward after that. Lyndie, for her part, had busied herself with some school work and some light filing handed to her by Anderson. I expected a constant barrage of ribbing and jokes from her about the diapers–and there were a few, though less than expected.

I knew that I was expected to use the diaper, and I was okay with that inevitability. The challenge was timing. Did I just go whenever I had to? Did I wait until I couldn’t hold it anymore and then let it all go? How often did Ms. Heller think that I was going to come by for a diaper change?

I figured that it was safe to bet she’d be expecting me to come by her office at least one more time during the workday. Thus, I’d have to have at least one more diaper worth changing. I had a handful of small wettings throughout the day–little tests, really, to see that I could. But I could feel the call of my bladder, and I knew that a thorough soaking was in the cards.

Still, I was stuck there in The Closet with Lyndie. I debated getting up and leaving the room. I could waddle down a few random corridors until I found a quiet spot to piss myself. It seemed better than having to do it in front of her. I recalled, however, that I had already done that in front of her once. She didn’t know it, nor did she know about the diapers at the time. And now she knew everything. Or at least more than she did before. And maybe that made staying in The Closet a better choice–if there was even the slightest chance of being exposed to someone, maybe this would have to be my diaper-wetting sanctuary.

“Did you do it?” she asked, seemingly at random.

“Do what?” I asked, though I had a good idea of what she meant.

“Did you make a pee-pee in your diaper?”

I furrowed my brow, not really caring for that mocking tone she was taking. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I think you should tell me.”

“Why? What makes you think I owe you that?” I didn’t mean to sound a little snippy, but I was craving normalcy–the one thing the day had been missing.

“Well, given how much I already know about your little predicament…”

It sounded like blackmail. Not that I thought that she’d run out the door and start telling my secret to strangers. She didn’t want to talk to anyone in this building that she didn’t have to, and I felt confident that she especially didn’t want to talk to said strangers about my diapers. Still, there was power in her knowledge. Maybe she’d never use it, but she could if she wanted to.

She had power now. Power that felt worth respecting.

I gave her the honesty she wanted: “I’m a little damp. But I didn’t, like, full-on wet…” I paused. I wanted to use the word ‘myself,’ but the phrasing of ‘I didn’t full-on wet myself’ sounded as pathetic as it was.

“What are you waiting for?” she asked. It came off as a cloying tease, but I chose to take it as genuine curiosity.

“I don’t know.”

“But you’re committed?” she asked.

“Committed?”

“You could just, like, go to the bathroom, right? Would she even know?”

I shrugged.

“Right,” she said, smiling. “You like this. You want to be her baby.”

I felt my cheeks burning as I tried to think of the right response. But I had nothing.

“It’s cute, I guess,” she said. “Weird. But cute.”

“Thanks.”

“So? Are you going to do it? Are you going to piss your diaper?” She actually seemed to sound excited by it.

“I guess, yeah. Eventually.”

She didn’t say anything, but there was a look on her face. Something was on the tip of her tongue.

“What?” I asked. “Go on, say whatever it is you want to say.”

“I just…” It was a rare look for her–or rare in my relatively short experience of knowing her. She looked a little hesitant; almost bashful.

“Yes?” I asked.

“I just wanted to see,” she said.

I could barely even process what she said, her words made so little sense to me. “What? You want to see…me…pee?”

She shrugged. “I dunno. Yeah, I guess so.”

“What, exactly, is it that you want to see?”

She thought about it for a moment. “Ideally? You’d pull your pants down, pee in your diaper, and I’d…watch?”

“Why would you even want to see that?” I asked.

“Are you kidding me? Look around us. Well, you know, open the door of our fucking closet first and then look around. Cubicles. Offices. Tightass robots wearing ironed shirts and silk ties. The most interesting thing going on in this entire building is happening in your pants. It’s kinda gross. But kind of amazing too. So…yeah. I want to see it.”

There were only two choices for an answer: Yes or no. But, really, what did it matter? She already knew. And what she couldn’t see, she would just imagine anyways.

It didn’t matter that it was diapers. Whatever was striking the right chords for me was fundamentally deeper. It was about control and humiliation, and diapers were just the vessel. And for the same reasons that Ms. Heller had been able to sell me on her desires, I found myself wanting to give in to Lyndie’s request. I wanted her to see me wet my diaper. I wanted that humiliation too.

“Okay,” I said.

Her eyes lit up with surprise. “Really?”

I shrugged. “If you really want to see it. I’ll show you.”

“Yes! Oh my god, this is so cool.”

“Cool?” I laughed. “We have very different ideas of what ‘cool’ is.”

“Years from now, I’m going to tell this story at some party. I’ll talk about the guy whose boss made him piss in a diaper. It’s going to be such a fucking hit.”

“Just…leave my name out of that story?”

“Oh please,” she said, “by that time you’ll have moved into Gabrielle’s house as her little baby-pet. She’ll feed you bottles and keep you chained up in the basement. And you’ll fucking love it.”

It seemed doubtful, but that didn’t sound like the worst fate to have.

“If I’m chained up in the basement at that point, feel free to use my name,” I said.

“Excellent. Now, are you going to show me?”

Neither of us really had any doubt as to what the answer was going to be, though it took me another moment or two to get the words out: “Okay, let’s go.”

She clapped her hands together excitedly. “Oh my gosh. This is so fucking crazy. I can’t believe this is actually happening.”

I looked over to the door of The Closet. Though it was closed, and there were no windows looking into our small room, I could just see Anderson or some other guy barging through the door just as I pulled my pants down. I pressed the button on the knob, hearing the satisfying click of the lock. Fingers crossed the lock actually worked.

“Look, this is weird enough as it is,” I said. “Let’s not make this any weirder, okay? I’ll just pull down my pants, do my thing, and then that’s it.”

“What else do you think is going to happen?” she asked. “I doubt I’m going to want to change your diaper or anything like that.”

I sighed and shrugged. “Here we go.”

It was the third time I had pulled my pants down for a woman at work that day, and the second time I had pulled them down for Lyndie. It was almost pathetic how normal this suddenly seemed. I had shown someone my diaper more times than I had done actual work.

“Okay,” she said, crouching down a little to get a better view of my diaper as I stood before her. “So…you’ll tell me when you go?”

“I think you’ll be able to tell,” I said.

I had been feeling more confident about my ability to wet a diaper. I had, after all, done much worse on Ms. Heller’s floor this morning. But standing before Lyndie was something else entirely. She was just as intimidating as Ms. Heller was, but in a completely different way. She wasn’t some powerful executive–she was another student, like me. She was cute. Even kind of charming in her bitter and sarcastic way. I wished we were getting coffee or cocktails together. I wished she was coming by my apartment so we could watch TV together. Instead, she was staring at my stupidly puffy diaper, waiting for me to piss in it.

I wasn’t ready for it to start happening–in fact, I was already prepared to have to concentrate for a few more minutes on getting my stubborn bladder to budge–but I suddenly felt a small trickle. That trickle grew a little heavier, and within seconds it was all just flowing out of me. It was happening, and it was happening right in front of Lyndie’s face. I was so caught up in the feeling of the diaper growing warm and heavy that I had forgotten to say anything to her about it. I couldn’t even remember–was I still supposed to?

“Oh shit,” she said, ensuring that I didn’t need to say anything. “I…I can see it. You’re doing it? You’re doing it! You’re pissing your diaper! Holy fuck.”

Her tone suggested that she was just getting started, but she broke down in hysterical laughter again as I continued to pump more warm liquid into the diaper.

She regained her composure, staring at the bulge between my legs. “Look at it swelling! Holy shit. I just can’t believe I’m watching this right now. A grown man willingly pissing himself? Shit.”

I never thought about humiliation as a turn-on for me before. It was just something I had never been exposed to in that context, so I didn’t know that I wanted it. But Ms. Heller had awoken something in me–and I was curious if it was coincidence or if she knew what she had done. I was only just beginning to understand what humiliation did for me, and…this was but another lesson.

I didn’t even realize what was happening until Lyndie pointed it out. “Clark, oh my god, are you…getting hard in your diaper?”

I had just finished wetting, and with that nominal vacancy in my attention, I shifted my focus to Lyndie’s taunting. ‘A grown man willingly pissing himself?’ was definitely hitting the spot.

“F-fuck,” I stammered, stumbling backwards with my hands over the front of my diaper.

“Jesus, you were, weren’t you? Wow.” She laughed again, shaking her head.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“Don’t apologize,” she said with a small shrug. “It’s funny, but it’s kind of, I dunno, cute?”

“Cute?” If I wasn’t blushing before, I was blushing now.

“Maybe not cute,” she said. “But it’s, like, if you’re going to be made to dress like a baby and pee your pants, you might as well like it.”

“I do,” I said softly.

“Yeah? And what turned on you just now, huh? Just the act of pissing a diaper? The excitement of getting changed later?” Her tone had changed. It was more genuine, but still condescending. I felt like I was a little boy, being asked questions by his teacher.

“I guess…all of that?” I said, pulling my pants back up over the wet diaper. “But…humiliation too.”

“Humiliation because I was here?”

“Yeah.”

“Watching you?”

“Yeah…”

“Teasing you about pissing your diapers like a little baby?”

I became completely flustered at that moment. So much so that the world suddenly seemed a little blurry around me. I quickly tucked my shirt back in and straightened my pants. “I…I have to go.”

“Where are you going, baby?” she cooed sarcastically.

“To get my diaper changed,” I blurted out. I immediately cursed myself for having done that, as this had sent Lyndie into another fit of giggles.

[maly]

I am enjoying this thanks for the new chapter.

Maly.

[Babypants]

Very well crafted chapter.  I'm wondering whether you know a Lyndie in real life, and have modeled your character upon her.  On this side of the pond, we would call her a "bad ass."

[Hottogurugan]

Im really loving this story! Can't wait to see how far down the rabbit hole our MC goes!

[quietlyhumiliated]

Six

Memo to all employees: By special request from our executive team, we are pleased to announce that new garbage cans have been installed in the common area of each floor. These garbage cans use state-of-the-art scent-sealing technology to ensure that even the worst smelling trash won’t permeate your work space.

—

Upon stumbling out of The Closet, I had to take a moment and collect my thoughts. I was feeling a combination of humiliated, aroused, disgusting, and pathetic–and I didn’t know what to do with any of it.

Behind me, back in our little room, Lyndie was laughing to herself about the show I had just put on for her.

Out of the pan and into the fire. In the distance was the executive hallway, and Ms. Heller’s office. I wondered if she was waiting for me. I wondered what she’d say to me. Should I tell her about Lyndie? How would she react to that?

I waddled forward, feeling the heavily squishing bulk shift between my legs with every step. Step. Squish. Step. Slosh. It was an agonizingly slow and embarrassing walk through the office. I watched the employees, busy at their desks or having adult conversations. And there I was, creeping by in a completely soaked diaper with a stiff cock.

I scrambled towards Ms. Heller’s office. I passed the desk where Daniel used to sit. That could be my seat. I hadn’t even begun to think about that proposition yet, and I certainly didn’t have the bandwidth to start thinking about it now.

With a long deep breath, I knocked on the door to her office. I noted that I couldn’t see inside the room from the hallway, which came as a relief to me.

The door opened, and there was Ms. Heller’s smiling face. Behind her, sitting in front of her desk, was another woman that I did not recognize.

“Ah, Mr. Ashburn, it's a pleasure to see you. Come in.”

I offered a bashful nod towards the stranger as I slipped inside. My diaper suddenly felt three times bigger than it had before–a swollen blob of saturated padding that would be visible from space.

“Neve, this is Clark Ashburn, a recent addition to the team.”

“I don’t think we’ve met,” said the woman. She stood up from the chair, revealing how tall and perfect she looked. With her dark skin and long straight hair, she looked like a goddess. And for as much as I’d never want to be ‘that guy,’ it took just about all my power not to stare at her sizable chest–which seemed barely contained within her blouse. As she approached to shake my hand, I had to actually look up to make eye-contact with her. Standing below her, in my sodden diaper, I had never felt so small before.

“A, uhm, pleasure to meet you,” I said, grasping her hand to shake it. Her grip was firm, and I wondered what she could glean about me from my own meager finger-strength.

“Neve Beaufort is VP of Product Development,” Ms. Heller said. “And a dear friend to me.”

I attempted to read Ms. Heller’s face, hoping that I could catch a signal about whether or not this woman knew anything about our arrangement. Or, if she would learn about it eventually. As always, I found her nearly impossible to read.

“And what do you do here, Clark?” asked Ms. Beaufort. What was that accent? French, I suspected. It was incredibly charming.

The truth felt so hilariously insignificant, but I said it anyway: “I’m just an intern.”

“Just?” said Ms. Heller. “No need to be modest. You may be an intern, but his hard work has already caught my attention. I already have him selected to work on some special projects for me.”

“Special projects, hmm?” asked Ms. Beaufort. I couldn’t get a good feel for whether or not that was a code between the two women. “That’s wonderful. I love to see the next generation of leadership taking root.”

“I…can go,” I said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“We were just chit-chatting. Girl talk,” Ms. Beaufort said, winking at me. “But I’ll leave you two to it.”

Ms. Heller shot me a naughty look. I couldn’t read her mind, but I could take an educated guess. “Should I ask her to stay?”

Instead: “It was good to see you, Neve. I still owe you a glass of wine, yes? Let’s make that happen soon.”

“That would be perfect,” Ms. Beaufort said. She turned, looking down at me again as she smiled. “And you, Clark, it was a pleasure to meet you. I hope to see big things from you soon.”

Big things like my big fat diaper?

She left the office, and it was once more just myself and Ms. Heller. For a moment, she had nothing to say. She just gazed upon me with a satisfied smirk.

Finally: “I was expecting you to be back sooner.”

“R-really?”

She shrugged. “Give it time, I suppose. Did I tell you about Hillary already?”

The name rang a bell, and with a little bit of quick digging in my recent memories I landed on her name. It had been the first time I met Ms. Heller. She was another assistant, or someone in a position similar to mine. Another plaything.

“Yes,” I said.

“In our prime together, she’d need multiple diaper changes a day–at least four. But now that I think back on it, it took us a while to get to that point. She, too, would hold onto her bladder–and her bowels–far longer than she should’ve. Maybe it’s something you’ll learn in time, Clark. But I implore you to use your diaper more often. As often as you need to. I’ll always be here, and I’ll always have a fresh diaper ready for you. There’s no reason to be uncomfortable.”

“I’ll work on that, I guess,” I said.

“But I suppose you came by because you need a diaper change now?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Wonderful,” she said, grinning. “And what sort of present did you bring Mommy this afternoon?”

“Uhm…well, I just wet myself.”

“Just,” she said. “You keep saying just. You are not just an intern. You didn’t just wet your diaper. What you’ve done is you’ve committed. You’ve further embraced the position I’ve given you. You’ve returned to me yet again, assuring me that you are as interested in taking on this role as I am in you having it to begin with. Say it again, and don’t let it sound like it has diminished importance.”

I took a deep breath as I thought about her words. I could understand why she was in the position she was, talking like that. “I wet my diaper again.” I realized I forgot an important detail, and I said it again: “I wet my diaper again, for you. Mommy.”

“What a good boy you are. Why don’t you lie down on the ground again. I’ll fetch a new diaper.”

I did as she asked, lowering myself down to her carpet once more. Sitting on the ground in my wet diaper was a new experience. I felt the soggy padding squish beneath me, forcing the wetness to spread into new places. I was sitting somewhere in the vicinity of where I had been that morning. The wet spot I had created on the floor–probably somewhere beneath where I sat at that moment–had probably dried not that long ago.

“If this is going to stick–if you’re committed to this,” she said, “I’d consider some upgrades to this arrangement. At the very least, a changing pad that I could roll out onto the floor. Though I wonder if I could get away with asking for a bigger office. Maybe convert part of it into a nursery?”

The thought of a ‘secret nursery’ in this vast industrial complex sounded as unlikely as it did overwhelmingly humiliating.

I began to open my mouth to respond, but she stopped me. “Where’s your pacifier?”

“In, uh, my pocket?”

“Put it where it belongs,” she said.

I fished it out of my pocket and slid it into my mouth. It was surreal to think that the last person who held this was Lyndie. I had no doubt that Ms. Heller would love that story.

She pulled off my shoes and tossed them aside before pulling my pants off entirely.

“Do you like these?” she asked, holding up my gray boxer-briefs. I felt my face turn crimson as I watched my undergarments dangle from her fingers above me.

I shrugged.

“I won’t pretend that I understand boy’s underpants. These, in particular, seem kind of silly to me. Tighty-whities, I suppose, have a boyish quality to them, so I can understand men wanting to get away from them. But are these that much different? Too cool for briefs, yet not cool enough for boxers?”

I didn’t really have a response to that, not that I should be talking while suckling the pacifier anyways. She was probably right–true boxer shorts always seemed strangely intimidating to me. All that…freedom. I wondered if this helped to build a stronger case for my demotion back to diapers.

I wanted to ask questions about Hillary. I wondered what that was like. I wondered where Hillary was now, and how she felt about it in hindsight. In just two days of diapers, I felt like I had experienced years worth of surreal adventures. What had she endured? What did that look like?

“There’s Little Clark again,” she said, playfully poking at my stiff member after having opened the diaper up. It hadn’t lost its firmness since growing in front of Lyndie’s face–a terrifying moment that I still didn’t know how to address once I returned to The Closet. “I’m not going to let you make your boyish little mess this time, however.”

I was simultaneously relieved and disappointed to hear that. It had been incredibly shameful to pleasure myself in front of her–or to have her pleasure me through the diaper. But it had also been weirdly thrilling in a way that nothing else in recent memory had been.

“I know I’ve hinted at it previously, Clark, but perhaps I should say aloud what I’m thinking, regarding your forever-stiff boyhood.”

I drew in a deep breath, bracing myself for what she’d reveal to me now. I tried to predict it, but I had no idea where to even start.

“They make these things,” she said. “Little cages? Chastity? I feel it would be perfect for you.”

I vaguely knew what she spoke of. It was one of those things that I’d unintentionally stumble across on the internet from time to time, usually while tumbling down some strange cyber rabbit hole. My only thought on the matter, previous to now, had been: Why would you do that to yourself? But I immediately got where she was going with this. As with all other things in her game thus far, it was about control. She had claimed control over my bodily functions with the diapers. And now, she proposed controlling my ability to just get off.

“What do you think?” she asked, as she ran damp wipes across my skin.

I let the pacifier roll out of my mouth. “H-how would that work? I get…locked up? And then I just don’t touch myself anymore?”

“There’d be a key, of course. I’d hold onto it. And I’m not a monster. I’d let you out when I felt you had earned it. And you’re a good boy. I’m sure it wouldn’t be hard to earn those opportunities.”

“Can I think about it?”

“Don’t you already have a lot to think about?”

It shouldn’t have been funny, but it was. I laughed as I stared up at the ceiling, taking in the ever-growing absurdity.

“I’m just giving you options. There’s lots of options, you know.”

At that moment, she guided the moist baby wipe through my ass cheeks, gently pressing on my hole with her finger. This sensation–entirely new to me–sent strange ripples through my body. I couldn’t quite place the feeling, but it seemed adjacent to pleasure.

“Lots of options,” she said again.

For the first time, the words seemed to roll from my mouth without any hesitation or additional thought: “Yes, Mommy.”

“Mmm,” she moaned. “You’re such a smart little boy. A quick learner.”

Her words, cooed to me in that pseudo-babytalk that I was becoming very fond of, made me giddy and I nodded back towards her.

“I have some time,” she said, glancing at her smartwatch. “I could give you something else to taste, besides your pacifier.”

Ever-naive and two steps behind, I foolishly asked: “Like what?”

She laughed. “Have you had pussy before? I’ve prepared some for you.”

My eyes widened and I felt my mouth drop open. “I…well, uhm…”

“Have you ever eaten someone out before, baby?”

“N-no…”

“It’s probably best that you learn now, then. I’ll require a lot of that. Be a good boy and stay there. I’ll come to you.”

She stood again, towering above me. I was still naked from the waist down, though that didn’t seem to matter to her. She slid her black slacks down her legs, exposing the black panties underneath. Twice today, I saw a woman’s panties. Twice today, I saw the panties of a woman I worked with–at work. She worked them down her legs next, revealing her radiating womanhood to me.

I wasn’t a virgin, though my sexual history was embarassingly brief and unexciting. But I had seen pictures. Videos. I had seen enough, I felt, to feel enough authority to know that she looked amazing.

“I’m wet,” she said, as she kneeled down over top of me. She slowly brought her pelvis towards my face. “I’ve been wet all day, really. Thinking about you. Thinking about you wetting your diaper for me. Making that dreadful little mess you pushed into it this morning. I’m in all these meetings and calls today, and I’ve just been wet through all of that–thinking about the next time I get to change your dirty diapers.”

I wanted to say something–acknowledge what she was admitting somehow. “I…”

She put a finger to my lips. “You don’t have to say anything. Eat me out,” she said. “Start learning.”

I’m not even given the opportunity to respond as she lowers herself on my face. Facesitting, I think–yet another thing I’ve seen, but never thought would be an experience of my own.

She wasn’t lying–she was wet. Soaked, actually, and her juices cascaded over my face. I hesitantly reached my tongue up from my mouth and into her. I wasn’t scared of the act, so much as I was afraid of letting her down. But I could hear her voice in my head: Start learning. And so I began to explore her.

The taste was unlike anything I had ever experienced, nor was it what I had expected. It’d be hard to put into words. Bold, perhaps. An overwhelmingly bold taste–a sensation that was every bit as powerful and demanding of attention as she was.

And, as it turned out, I had a lot less to do than I thought–she seemed perfectly fine with grinding herself against my face. I did what I could, searching with my tongue for the sweet spot that would add some extra volume to her moans.

“You’re…close,” she moaned down to me. “So close.”

Was I close? I had sincere doubts that I was doing the bulk of the heavy lifting.

“There,” she said. “There… Right there.”

The tenseness that she had in her body suddenly dissipated, and she seemed to melt over top of me. My face was soaked, while my cock throbbed somewhere out of sight.

We stayed in that position for a few minutes in silence. While I wanted to give her all the time she needed, I didn’t mind the position I was stuck in either–my face still lodged beneath her.

“Let’s get you into a new diaper,” she finally said.

She slid off from me and slowly brought herself to her feet again. She grabbed a baby wipe from the still-open package, guiding it between her own legs.

“In the future, I’d rather you do this for me,” she said. “But today has likely been exciting enough.”

I nodded. I would’ve done it if she had asked. I probably would’ve done anything if she had asked.

She took her time in collecting herself. She slowly stepped into her panties, before pulling them up her slender legs–seemingly positioning herself at the perfect angle to my eyes so I could take in the whole experience. She followed that up with her tight black pants, and finally, slipped her feet into her black heels again.

“Your turn,” she announced, as she picked up the pacifier and slipped it back into my mouth.

She was between my legs again, on her knees, slipping the unfolded fresh diaper beneath me. Out came the baby powder once more. I knew better than to protest. This was how this was going to be from now on. I was going to smell like a baby. I was going to be a baby.

“All done,” she said as she stretched the last of the diaper’s tapes into place. “You’re a free baby.”

As I climbed to my feet, I dropped the pacifier back into my hands. It seemed like there was only one thing to say: “Thank you.”

She smiled–the most genuine smile I had seen from her yet. There was no sinister intent nor condescending teasing to it. “Are you happy with how today went?”

It was a far more complicated question than she knew. The earlier encounter with Lyndie was just the start of something entirely different than what I started with Ms. Heller. Connected, but different.

“I think so,” I said. It was an honest answer. I had no true regrets, nor did I harbor any resentment. It all just was and I needed time and space to think about what it all actually meant to me.

“It’s close enough to the end of the day,” she said. “Why don’t you just leave?”

“Are you sure?”

She shrugged. “Who would even know?”

I laughed and nodded. “Thank you.” It might have sounded like I was thanking her for excusing me early, but it was just residual gratitude for the experiences I had in her office.

“Report to my office first thing tomorrow morning,” she said.

“Yes…Mommy.” I wanted it to sound natural, but the words still felt alien to me. I’d need to work on that.

“Don’t wear the same diaper into my office tomorrow morning,” she said. “That’s how you’re going to get a diaper rash.”

Just the very thought of having something called ‘diaper rash’ at my age felt debilitatingly embarrassing. “But…”

“Right, so you’ll need an extra diaper to take home with you, yes? Maybe a few.”

I wanted to ask her about just how many diapers she had stowed away in this office, but I bit my tongue. She knew what she was doing, and I trusted that she knew what she needed on hand far better than I did.

She returned to her cabinet of baby supplies, pulling out a small stack of diapers–it looked to be three or four. She walked back to me, pushing them into my hands.

“It doesn’t matter to me how quickly you go through these,” she said. “There’s plenty more where these came from. Once you leave this building, feel free to wear as few or as many as you see fit.”

“Yes, uh, Mommy.”

“Though if you do end up wearing them more at home, might I suggest getting yourself some other supplies? You’ll need wipes and baby powder. Maybe some rash cream, just in case.”

I nodded.

“Alright then, so I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Y-yes,” I said, tripping over my words. “But…”

“I want you to think about some of the things I’ve offered to you today,” she said, seemingly unaware of my efforts to get one last question in. “Chastity. The assistant position. Oh, and you should really think about just using your diaper more often. I shouldn’t have to make you sit on my floor every morning until you fill your diaper.”

“Okay, yes, but…”

“Yes?”

“I…I can’t just carry this stack of diapers through the office,” I said, glancing down at the pile of thick padding.

“Why not?” her lips curled into an amused smile.

“People will see…”

“Shouldn’t they? Shouldn't they know that you’re going to be the office baby from now on? I think you should march through these halls proudly with your diapers in front of you. The sooner you acclimate everyone to seeing you with diapers, the sooner people will understand why you’ll occasionally smell like you need a diaper change, don’t you think?”

My mouth dropped open, and I almost released the diapers from my grip. This felt so far beyond anything that we had talked about previously. “R-really? You think…I should…”

She began to laugh and she shook her head. “I’m teasing you, Baby. Oh, gosh, you should have seen the look on your face!”

My face felt like it was on fire and I had to catch my breath as my body began to function again.

“Oh,” I said. “Oh, thank god. I almost had a heart attack there.”

She laughed again, patting me on the back. “Let me get you a bag for those. It’s far too soon to expose you as a baby to the entire office.”

I looked at her, again, with a terrified expression painted on my face.

She winked playfully, and I had no idea what that meant.

[Babypants]

This has been a fun read, in no small part because your young, beta male is drawn so well.  Indeed, all of the lead characters have real depth.  But I don't recognize the setting.  In my experience, when a nobody like Clark goes into the office of a senior corporate officer, especially when said officer is an older member of the opposite sex, the rumor mill starts churning.  Long interludes behind closed doors and shuttered curtains guarantee that, the second time he walks out of the office, everyone in the building will be on the gossip train.  So, where are the smirks, the half smiles, the eye contact broken too quickly, that should greet Clark every time he walks down the corridor?  Why doesn't he carry a sheaf of papers into her office, to give his presence their at least some verisimilitude?  He has little to lose here, but the boss has a career and a reputation to protect, and he should be helping, especially in an age where every corporation fears not only litigation for sexual harassment, but the attendant bad publicity as well.

[Guilend]

I just started reading this. Now I’m hooked. I’m curious to see where this goes. 

[aldl4811]

I love the power dynamic and the ever expanding consent to go deeper

[quietlyhumiliated]

On 7/29/2022 at 6:17 PM, Babypants said:

This has been a fun read, in no small part because your young, beta male is drawn so well.  Indeed, all of the lead characters have real depth.  But I don't recognize the setting.  In my experience, when a nobody like Clark goes into the office of a senior corporate officer, especially when said officer is an older member of the opposite sex, the rumor mill starts churning.  Long interludes behind closed doors and shuttered curtains guarantee that, the second time he walks out of the office, everyone in the building will be on the gossip train.  So, where are the smirks, the half smiles, the eye contact broken too quickly, that should greet Clark every time he walks down the corridor?  Why doesn't he carry a sheaf of papers into her office, to give his presence their at least some verisimilitude?  He has little to lose here, but the boss has a career and a reputation to protect, and he should be helping, especially in an age where every corporation fears not only litigation for sexual harassment, but the attendant bad publicity as well.

I appreciate your comment! Honestly, it's probably the toughest part of writing a story like this: The want for more "real" characters vs. the absurdity of what this situation looks like in a real setting. Stories like this always have a little bit of built-in suspension of disbelief, but that only stretches so far. Toggling the balance between arousing and believable is a work in progress.

Future chapters do address some of your observations. But, regardless, you've given me some good food for thought. 

[Babypants]

17 minutes ago, quietlyhumiliated said:

I appreciate your comment! Honestly, it's probably the toughest part of writing a story like this: The want for more "real" characters vs. the absurdity of what this situation looks like in a real setting. Stories like this always have a little bit of built-in suspension of disbelief, but that only stretches so far. Toggling the balance between arousing and believable is a work in progress.

Future chapters do address some of your observations. But, regardless, you've given me some good food for thought. 

One of life's fundamental lessons that we all have to absorb is that we don't know what we don't know.  It's personal experience that equips us to write about something and make it seem authentic-- and this is certainly true of the soulless universe of the corporate cubicle.  You just have to keep plugging away, keep trying to fill the gaps.  Even one sentence or paragraph will often do the job.  Here, for example, is how you could have closed chapter 5: "Wait up," Lyndie chortled as she tried to stop giggling.  Clark, she mused, was just so cute when he blushed like that!  "Here," she said as she grabbed a stack of blank paper off the desk and hastily shoved it into a folder.  "You've gotta learn to play the game.  And one of the first rules when you're having an office fling with the boss is to have a reason for going into her office.  And for God's sake, Clark, when you leave . . . make sure that you have a fresh batch of papers in your clammy little hands!" 

[quietlyhumiliated]

Seven

From: Samantha Hayden <st.hayden12@xxxxxxxxx>

Date: Monday, March 21 at 5:45 PM

To: Clark Ashburn <cashburn@xxxxxxxxx>

Subject: Internship Check-In

Good afternoon Clark,

I wanted to check-in regarding your internship. Are you enjoying this experience? Do you have any questions. As your academic advisor on campus, it’s my job to make sure all your needs are being met. Please don’t hesitate to reach out to me for any reason.

I actually received an email today from Ms. Gabrielle Heller. She thanked us for matching you with her company and has stated that you’ve already proven yourself to be an asset to the team. I’m incredibly proud of you, and I thought you should know!

Keep in touch.

Samantha Hayden

Academic Advisor, Portsburg University

—

Shortly after stepping off the train in my neighborhood, I stopped at the grocery store on the way home. I walked straight to the baby aisle, looking over the possibilities. A young woman pushed an infant in a stroller nearby, grabbing some diapers and wipes from the shelves. She seemed to have no reaction to my presence, but seeing her–an actual parent of a baby–made me feel strange.

I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong, but I wondered what her reaction would’ve been if I had told her the truth. “Hi, I’m shopping for baby supplies–for me–because my boss is making me use diapers.” Then I’d follow it up by revealing that I was wearing a diaper as I spoke to her.

But I had a hard enough time approaching women in the first place, so there were no worries about me saying something so stupid to a stranger. Though if Ms. Heller was there, I could only imagine her encouraging further interaction.

I tried not to think too much about the extra diapers that Ms. Heller had given me. They were in my messenger bag, slung over my shoulder while in the store. But there was no getting around it, their presence remained on my mind.

I started grabbing the obvious things–the items she had suggested. A large package of baby wipes, thinking it’d probably be best to have a lot of those around. A container of baby powder. I held a tube of ointment for diaper rash in my hands, debating on whether or not I’d need something like this. I opted to add it to my basket–it seemed like the sort of thing that was better to have on hand than not.

I scanned the aisle, looking for anything else that looked essential. Or, at least, interesting or curious.

I spotted diaper pail liners, which seemed interesting. It implied the need for a diaper pail. Should I have a diaper pail? I hadn’t thought much about disposing of diapers at home, but I realized that I probably should. Used diapers, I had quickly learned, could smell. And I didn’t live alone. A good diaper disposal system was preferable to having to explain to my roommate that I was now wearing diapers. I made a mental note to look into a diaper pail later.

Baby shampoo? Thrillingly humiliating in concept, but I’d pass on that for now. Baby lotion? I didn’t really quite know what its purpose was, but I liked the idea of it. I added it to the basket. Baby bottles? I was curious, and added one to the basket. Another pacifier featuring a cartoonish plastic lion? Added it to the basket. Jars of baby food? Sounded disgusting but…maybe that was fun in itself? A few jars were added to the basket.

At the cashier, a feeling of shame washed over me as I placed the items on the conveyor belt. But I wasn’t doing anything wrong–I was just buying things. The cashier knew absolutely nothing about what I was doing with my life, nor did they care. I was the only one attaching any sort of terror to the moment. I’d need to get used to that.

I left the store without incident. I was mostly pleased at this, but a small part of me had hoped for a little more chaos. And while I wasn’t sure what I wanted from ‘chaos,’ I had spent the rest of my walk home considering what could’ve been. For example, the cashier looking down at my haul before looking back up at me. “Is this all for you? Are you the baby?” Highly unlikely, but exciting. Or, perhaps being called out by the young mother in the baby aisle. “Do you even have a baby, or are you going to be the one with diaper rash?”

The excitement of those thoughts troubled me a little bit. It felt indicative of what my future could be–a slave to the growing need for humiliation. How far would I end up going for Ms. Heller?

I tried to imagine the worst case scenario. What was the most humiliating thing that she could possibly do to me? I imagined being marched out in front of the entire company in just a diaper. A full diaper. She stood behind me, waving her hand in front of her face to signal to everyone that I had, in fact, done something dreadful.

Yes, that seemed good. And then she’d change my diaper right there. And tease me with the key to my cage, dangling it above my face. Maybe she’d toss them into the crowd, and I’d have to find out who now controlled access to my shrunken cock.

I felt myself growing hard in my pants. In my diaper. I was supposed to be frightening myself. I was supposed to be seeing the worst case scenario and convincing myself that I didn’t want to go down that path. Yet my throbbing manhood–boyhood, as it was referred to earlier–suggested that this was something I might actually strive for.

“You should’ve told me that you were going to the store,” said Evan as I entered our apartment. My roommate was perpetually home, on account of not only taking his remaining courses online, but having one of those work-from-home jobs that I used to wish I had. Back before I discovered the joy of humiliation in the workplace.

“Oh, uh, this?” I asked, looking down at the shopping bag hanging from my hands. “Shit, yeah. Sorry about that.”

He shrugged. “No worries. Did you get anything good?”

Yes, as a matter of fact. All sorts of baby supplies.

“Just a few…things for myself,” I said.

“I really ought to go to the store sometime,” he said, slowly turning his attention back to the TV.

That was an incredible understatement. He didn’t just need to go to the store, he needed to get outside, period. The man never left the apartment. Ever. Some days I assumed it was just a pervasive weirdness. Others I wondered if it was some form of agoraphobia that he should seek a therapist for.

It usually didn’t actually bother me–we were rarely lacking for our own personal space. But the sudden introduction of diapers in my life had me worried about the prospect of Evan’s constant presence. Even when he was in his bedroom, and I was in mine, there’d be crinkling. Smells. The last thing I wanted was him questioning why the whole apartment smelled like baby powder. Or worse.

“How’s the internship?” he asked, still looking forward at the television.

Yet another question I couldn’t give an actual answer to. “My boss wants to put me in chastity so that I can’t even get off when I piss my diaper for her.”

“Same old, same old,” I said instead. But his question did remind me of one of the many things I needed to think about–Ms. Heller’s job offer. “Actually, let me run something by you.”

“Yeah? Alright.”

“My, uh, boss has offered me a position. Like, an actual job–not an internship.”

“Oh yeah?” He nodded, seemingly impressed. “You must be doing something right, yeah?”

“Well…it’s not a glamorous position. I’d be my boss’s assistant.”

“Like a secretary?”

“Not like a receptionist, no. Well, maybe a little bit. More of an assistant.”

Diaper-wearing plaything.

“That doesn’t sound too bad.”

“It’s full-time.”

“Is that a bad thing?” he asked, shrugging.

“It’s a…commitment. I wouldn’t have the internship anymore.”

“Would you need it?”

It was a fair question. “I guess not. But I’d have to rearrange some of my classes and…”

“It’s a full time job with a big company like that?” he asked, shaking his head. “I think you have to. You want to get your foot in the door, you know?”

He was right. I had come to the same conclusions earlier myself, but it felt good to have it confirmed by someone else.

“Well, I’ve got some, uh, stuff to do,” I said, gesturing towards my room. “I’ll see you later.”

He did his patented Evan finger-guns towards me, his nonverbal way of communicating either ‘hello’ or goodbye.’

It was just me again. Me and my diaper. And my new baby supplies. I laid out all of my new purchases on the bed so that I could look them over. Then, I took the stack of diapers from my messenger bag and laid them out on the bed too. There it all was–my infantile armory.

I picked up the baby powder, turning the cap to open it. I took a big whiff of the faint white cloud that poofed out from the tiny openings. Heavenly. It reminded me of being in Ms. Heller’s office again, lying on my back as she coated me with it just before sealing me into a new diaper.

I missed her.

It was a weird thought. For a moment, it almost felt alien–as if someone else had planted that thought into my subconscious. My first reaction was to brush that feeling aside, finding it disingenuous. Yet, I could still feel that longing inside of me. As humiliating as her game was, and as easy as it was to say that she was just using me for her own means, she still managed to make me feel…noticed. Wanted.

Yeah, I missed her. I missed Mommy.

I held one of the jars of baby food in my hands. Organic sweet potato, apple, carrot, and cinnamon. That was all one flavor, in one jar. I couldn’t even imagine all those flavors together at once, and I found it hard to believe that an actual baby had ever craved such a combination. It sounded like the result of an accident at the baby food factory. But, sure, I’d try it.

First, of course, I’d need to get into Baby Mode. I took off all my clothes, piling them up on the end of the bed to deal with later. I was only in my diaper now. I had wet myself–a tiny little puddle, really–while walking between the store and the apartment. The diaper, so thick and with so much absorbent padding between my legs, showed barely any sign of having been used.

I can fix that. I stood still, and within a few moments, I was wetting the diaper. Once more, the garment grew heavier on me as it swelled and sagged between my legs. That felt so much better. That felt like the sort of thing a baby was supposed to do before eating his jarred baby food.

I sat down on the ground, feeling the soggy diaper crinkle and squish beneath me as I opened the jar with a satisfying POP. I realized that I didn’t bring any sort of spoon or utensil with me. But it was a complete non-issue. I was leaning on my more basic instincts–thinking like a baby, I told myself–and knew the solution was to simply dip my fingers into the jar.

The burnt sienna glop stuck to my fingers and I led them back to my mouth where I licked them clean. The food tasted vaguely of all the ingredients listed on the label, yet none of them seemed especially strong or overpowering. It just tasted kind of bland. Wet cardboard with a subtle sweetness. But this was likely for the best. I liked that it didn’t taste like anything I recognized, and I liked that it didn’t taste horrible. It was for babies, like me.

I felt that longing for Ms. Heller again. Mommy. I wished she could see this. I wish I could tell her what I was doing right now. I grabbed my phone and quickly snapped a few quick selfies. Reviewing them, I could see that my fingers were still stained orange. Traces of orange goo were splattered around the edges of my lips.

“I need a bib.”

The feeling of the diaper’s thickened padding under me was stimulating in all the right places. I rocked my body back and forth on the diaper. Looking towards the bed, I thought of the bottle of baby lotion. I wasn’t sure what the intended purpose of it was, but I knew what I could use it for. While I still could, that was. Someday soon, I might be under lock and key.

The lotion smelled much like the baby powder did. I found it euphoric. I tilted the bottle towards my palm, but quickly changed course. I had a better idea that I wanted to try. I pulled open the front of my diaper and squirted a stream of lotion directly into it instead. When I let the waistband return to its place, the cool lotion was trapped between my skin and the saturated padding, with my stiffening member stuck between them.

Despite not having ever done anything like this before, I had a good idea of what I wanted to do. I laid myself out flat on the ground before flipping over to my belly. And then, with my lotioned diaper pressed against the carpet, I began humping the ground. I was grinding against the diaper, slicked by the combination of the infantile lotion and my own wetness. That was it–that was the shameful feeling I wanted. Needed.

“Mommy,” I pleaded into the air with nobody to hear me. “Mommy, look at me… Look at what I’m doing. I wet my diaper! I’m humping my diaper! Am I a good boy?” The words stuck in my brain and I began to sound like a broken record, timing each word with another thrust into the slippery diaper. “Am. I. A. Good. Boy. Mommy? Please? Mommy?”

My stamina didn’t stand a chance, and I messily erupted into the already sticky diaper. I would stay like that for a few minutes–collapsed face down on the floor.

There was a light knock on the door. “Clark?”

I slowly rolled over and sat up. It was rare that Evan knocked on my door for any reason. “Y-yeah?”

“Hey…if it’s none of my business, just let me know. But... Are you okay in there?”

My heart pounded as I looked down at my diaper. Still plump and soaked. Remnants of white goop dripped down my belly, back into the diaper.

“Yeah, I’m…good.”

“Alright,” he said. “I just wasn’t sure what I was hearing and…well, nevermind. I’ll leave you be.”

I could hear his footsteps walking away from the door. I sighed and shook my head. What the hell had he just heard? The temptation was strong to just hurl myself out the window in embarrassment. I had even made a point to tell myself to be careful with Evan’s omnipresence in the apartment, yet I just had to go and get carried away while pleasuring myself in my diaper.

I didn’t have to confront him now, but I’d have to eventually. Maybe I could stay in my room for a few more years first. Maybe he’d forget by the time I emerged.

Fuck.

It was like a curse. Or, perhaps, I was really bad at being discreet and subtle about these things. First Lyndie and now Evan? Was my mother going to be next? Was she going to call in a minute and complain that I didn’t think of her first if I needed a diaper change?

I took a deep breath. And then another. Maybe this wasn’t as bad as I thought it was. Maybe he only thought he heard something. I’d just walk out of the room and be ready to say that anything he thought he heard was actually something else. As far as I knew–he knew nothing and it was only going to stay that way.

I almost pulled my pants on over the diaper, but quickly thought better of it. There was no way that I could waddle out in this destroyed thing without him knowing. While standing, I tore away the tapes and let it fall to the ground with a heavy SPLAT–a humiliating sound in itself.

“Hey,” I said, finally emerging from my room–fully dressed.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bug you before,” he said, twisting to face me from the living room couch. “I just…was worried about you for a moment and wanted to be sure you were okay.”

“Totally fine,” I said, forcing a fake laugh as I attempted to play it off like everything was fine.

“Okay,” he said, shrugging. He seemed a little apprehensive–the look of someone who had questions but was too afraid to ask them.

I should’ve let it go. There was absolutely no reason to continue the conversation. And yet, my curiosity had overpowered my logic.

“What do you think you heard?”

“Oh. It…it doesn’t matter.”

Leave it alone. Don’t keep poking.

“I’m just curious,” I said, digging deeper.

“Well…you were, uhm, shouting about…Mommy? Something about, uh, a diaper?”

I had poked way too much, and as expected, it had disastrous results.

“Shouting? I was…shouting?”

He grimaced and shrugged again. “Well, you weren’t quiet about it.”

“Shit,” I muttered to myself.

“It’s none of my business,” he said, “but is that something you’re, like, into?”

Did he really expect me to answer that question? Or maybe the real question was whether or not I was going to allow myself to answer that. Because so far, I seemed to be my own worst enemy.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have been so loud.”

Evan sniffed at the air. I knew what he was smelling, because it was the same scent in my nose. The baby lotion–and the quantity of it that I had squirted into the diaper earlier–had given me a very strong infantile scent.

“Sorry,” I said again. “That scent is, uh, strong.”

He shrugged. “I don’t hate it? But I suppose I’m wondering if I should be, like, expecting to smell that more often?”

I sighed, weighing all options of how I could respond. I could offer a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ I could run away and avoid answering. Or, maybe, I could tell him everything. Or just enough. Maybe that’d be liberating for me. I could tell him what to expect. Baby powder. Diapers. Dirty diapers. Did I owe him that truth? Would I want to know if he had a similar weird shift in his lifestyle?

“Y-yeah,” I said. “Probably.” I hoped that answer was sufficient.

He chuckled softly to himself before shrugging. “Alright.”

I wished he had said more. He certainly wasn’t obligated to, and I could understand why he didn’t. But I had just given him a lot of information about myself and I knew next to nothing about how he actually felt about it.

Don’t go poking for answers again. This time I listened to myself. If he absolutely hated it, hopefully he would have said as much. The best I could do was to assume it wasn’t a problem for him until he said it was.

I quickly retreated back to my bedroom and closed the door behind me. Nothing sounded better than burying my head under a pillow until the memory of all the mistakes I had made dissipated.

And I’d get to that. But first, I needed to put another diaper on.

[quietlyhumiliated]

 

Eight

Stepping into The Closet the next morning, Lyndie already had a wide, goofy, grin on her face. Her eyes were immediately fixated on my pants.

“Looking for something?” I asked.

“You know what I’m looking for. And I think I see it.”

I tossed my shoulder bag down, awkwardly bending my body to see if I could find an angle in which my diaper was visible through my pants. I had spent way too much time staring at the mirror in my room that morning for someone to tell me now that they could see my diaper.

“R-really?”

She laughed. “I’m kidding. I don’t think I actually see anything. But I’m enjoying how easy it is to get you all riled up.”

I sighed. “I guess I’m just being paranoid.”

“But you are wearing a diaper, right?”

There was something about hearing Lyndie say that word that made me uncomfortable. It was not only a reminder of the fact that I was wearing a diaper in the office, but that I had exposed myself–perhaps literally and figuratively–to people I shouldn’t have.

I mouthed the word “yes,” while nodding.

“And so what’s the schedule here?” she asked. “Do you have to report to her for your morning diaper change?”

I shrugged. “I…I guess so.”

“I’d love to be a fly on the wall in her office,” she said, chuckling to herself as she shook her head.

“You want to see me getting changed?”

“Wouldn’t you if you knew that I was getting my diaper changed by the company’s CEO?”

I got the point she was making, but I couldn’t even begin to imagine that scenario. Maybe my reality was far too surreal to allow for me to step back and imagine it happening to someone else.

“Sure,” I said, opting for the answer that felt least likely to stir up additional conversation.

“You just want to see me nekkid.”

“I…I do not…”

She laughed again. “I’m teasing.” She might have winked. Or maybe she just blinked. Maybe I just saw what I wanted to see.

I wouldn’t have minded seeing Lyndie naked, and I suspected that she could’ve guessed as much herself.

I tried my hardest to shrug off her teasing, even if the combination of her jokes at my expense and her referencing of my diapers were having a little bit of a stiffening effect on my cock. Before Ms. Heller came along and claimed all of my thoughts for herself, a decent percentage of my worktime-consciousness had been consumed by daydreams of Lyndie. It was the one-two-punch of being both cute and being the only female peer I had in my life. And we were left to our own devices in a small room for 5 days of the week.

“Well,” Lyndie said. “Are you going to go and get your diaper checked by Mommy?” Her voice was rich with a saccharine tone that was hard to translate as being either sarcastic or mocking. Both? Neither?

“I guess I’ll see you later,” I said.

“Have fun.”

No sooner than I had stepped out from The Closet and onto the office floor, ‘Anderson’ had revealed himself, strutting out from around the corner and almost running me over.

“Well well well,” he said, a cocky smile on his face. “Where are you off to?”

It was odd that he cared at all, considering that he almost always ignored us except for when he needed something.

“Just going to a, uh, meeting.” It was the truth, in a way.

“A meeting?” He laughed. “You’re funny, kid. But what kind of meeting does an intern need to be at?”

I stared ahead at him, really trying to get a good read on him. For the first time, I felt like I could see him for who he really was. Whereas in the past I had seen him as just another tie-wearing part of the corporate ladder that I was at the very bottom of, I could see that he had just as little clout around the office as I did. The classic school bully–picking on kids smaller than him because anyone else wouldn’t give him the time of day.

With a semi-hard cock inside of a diaper, I wasn’t about to claim that I had any clout of my own. But I had a very powerful ally now. A powerful Mommy. Suddenly, Anderson meant absolutely nothing to me.

“I’m meeting with Gabrielle Heller,” I said.

He laughed. I was sure that he did find some genuine humor in what I said, but he exaggerated that, kicking his head back and letting out a throaty “Ha!”

“You’re a comedian too, eh?” he said. “You’re just full of surprises. Look, I have some stuff that needs to get filed and I was hoping that you and the other intern-chick could…”

“Actually, I should get going,” I said. “I don’t want to be late.”

He tilted his head, looking a little confused. Maybe he didn’t believe I was meeting with Ms. Heller, but he seemed to believe that I actually had somewhere to be. And maybe I was just speculating, or again seeing what I wanted to, but I swore that I sensed some jealousy in his expression. I, the lowly intern, had someplace to be. And he just had a menial job to hand off–likely one that was just pushed on him in the first place.

I walked past him, and deeper into the office labyrinth. Anderson’s presence behind me faded until it dissipated.

The ritual of progressing across the office floor to Ms. Heller’s office was one that I enjoyed more every time I did it. I was excited to see her. I was excited to feel her hands on me. Excited for her to check my diaper.

But when I reached her office, I found that the lights were off and she wasn’t in there.

“I think she’s in a meeting right now,” said a soft feminine voice from behind me.

I turned around, spotting a young woman I had never seen before. She looked no older than I or Lyndie; though as far as I knew, there were no other interns.

“Oh,” I said. “Do you…know when she’ll be back?”

“She’s in a meeting with my boss,” she said. “It could be another half hour or so.”

“I’ll just come back later,” I said, sheepishly shrugging. I didn’t know who she was, but it didn’t matter to me either. The less contact I had with people while waddling about in a diaper, the better.

“Do you work here?” she asked.

Dammit. No further questions, please. “Well…I’m an intern,” I said.

“Oh. And you had to see…Ms. Heller?”

A fair question. She had the same surprised look on her face I thought I saw on Anderson minutes before.

“Well, uhm…” I tried to think of a good, non-diaper related, reason why a lowly intern was going to meet with the company’s CEO. “It’s part of the program I’m in for school. I get to meet with Ms. Heller too.”

“Oh,” the young woman said, not sounding entirely convinced.

I should’ve just turned and walked away, but I felt stuck in place by some sort of social contract that forced me to pretend that I cared who she was.

“I’m Clark,” I said, holding my hand out towards her.

“Ava,” she said, shaking it.

“Who is your boss?” I asked.

“Neve Beaufort,” she replied. “VP of…”

“...Product Development,” I said, finishing her sentence.

“You know her?”

“We’ve met,” I said, recalling the other morning when I had walked into Ms. Heller’s office while Ms. Beaufort was there.

Ava ran her fingers through her long brown hair that cascaded down the left side of her face and over her cardigan. I would never claim to be an expert judge of character based on one’s looks, but everything about Ava’s tone and body language suggested that she was more like me than she was like Lyndie. Soft spoken and introverted.

“Are you Ms. Heller’s new assistant?” asked Ava. “I heard she was getting one.”

“I, well…” I nervously scratched my head, unsure how to answer. “The job was offered to me, yes. I haven’t accepted it yet.”

She bit her lower lip and glanced over her shoulder, looking to see who else might be around. Deciding the coast was clear, she leaned in a little closer to me: “Diapers?”

It was the last thing I had ever expected this complete stranger to say to me. My vision got blurry and I could hear a piercing ringing in my ears as I felt paralysis grip my body. How was this possible? Was I cursed to have every single person I came in contact with learn of my diapers?

“How did you know?” I ask.

She let out a long sigh. I didn’t quite get her reaction at first, but it slowly dawned on me what that sound was. Relief.

“Me too,” she said.

“Wait, what?”

“Neve. Ms. Beaufort? She, uhm, keeps me in…them.”

I had no idea what to say. I just shook my head in disbelief.

“Sometimes it’s hard to know who is involved and who isn’t,” she continued.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I said.

“The execs here. Well…not all of them. But some, I think. They all do it. They all have their own…babies. Or, playthings of some variety. Pets. I’m Ms. Beaufort’s. And you belong to Ms. Heller, yes?”

I nodded. The words ‘belong to’ felt awkward, though they weren’t wrong.

“So you do wear a diaper?” Ava asked.

“Y-yes. And you?”

She nodded, her cheeks glowing pink.

Neither of us said anything for a few moments. I couldn’t speak for her, but I was just lost on what to say next. Did we talk about how we ended up in the strange position we were in? Did I confess that I actually liked it and hoped that she felt the same way?

“This is all very new to me,” I finally said.

“It’s a lot,” she said, nodding. “We could talk sometime.”

“Yeah. That might be really good.”

“Not here,” she said.

“Right. Okay, how should I reach you later so that we can…”

“Look me up in the inter-office directory. Ava Barten. Just shoot me an email with your cell number, okay?”

“Yeah,” I said, nodding eagerly. “Of course.”

“Alright, I should get back to work,” she said. “But I hope to hear from you soon.”

“You will,” I said. “I promise.”

We split off in our separate paths, and I made a hasty retreat back towards The Closet. My mind was buzzing with this revelation. I was not alone. There was at least one other ‘office-baby.’ And, from the sound of it, perhaps even more. How did this even happen? How did it start? Would I have ever found out if it wasn’t for running into Ava? Was Ava in a diaper when I met her? Did she know that I was in a diaper?

I felt exhausted by the time I reached the door to my small shared office. All these questions and no answers.

My diaper was wet. I was vaguely aware of this–it wasn’t like I had lost control of my bladder or anything. But I couldn’t quite place the moment that I had wet myself. Somewhere in the last few minutes, I had to go and I had justified just letting it out into my diaper. It had been such an automatic process that it was almost scary to me.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Lyndie said as I shuffled into The Closet, closing the door behind me.

“It’s been a wild morning,” I replied.

“Yeah? Gabrielle making you do even more wacky things for her amusement now? Let me guess. She stuck a hand up your ass and made you her puppet?”

“W-what? No. I didn’t even get to see her. She was in a meeting.”

“Okay,” Lyndie said with a shrug. “So why do you look so pale then?”

“I’m not alone.”

She shook her head. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Like…the diapers? The baby stuff? I’m not the only one.”

Her eyes grew large as she laughed. “Are you fucking serious? What, is there like some sort of weird secret baby-cult here?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. We’re supposed to talk later and maybe then I can get some more details.”

“So this girl just walked up to you and was like, ‘Hey, I wear diapers too’?”

“Sort of. She didn’t know about me, specifically. But I think she knew that Ms. Heller had a, uh, vacancy for that position.”

“Un-fucking-real,” she said. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think I’m jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“I don’t want to be a baby like you,” she said. “But…damn. Why didn’t some powerful executive want me to be their little office play-toy?”

“I’m sure they’re looking for specific kinds of people,” I replied. “Well-behaved minions and the like.”

“I’ll take some solace in that,” she said. “What’s that say about you that you got snatched up almost immediately?”

“She clearly saw something she liked.”

She laughed. “You were probably already one diaper away from being a big baby when you strolled into this building in the first place.”

“H-hey,” I shot back. “I…I wasn’t a…” I stopped myself. Maybe she was right. Or maybe it just didn’t matter.

“So she wasn’t even there to change your diaper? Are you going to get a diaper rash now?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“Do you want some help?”

“Are you actually asking if you can–”

“I’m just teasing.” Her tone certainly suggested that was the case, but I swore I could read something else in the expression on her face. Curiosity?

KNOCK KNOCK.

“Anderson probably,” I said.

“I don’t think so,” Lyndie replied. “He came by earlier when you left.”

I opened the office door to reveal that it was Gabrielle Heller herself. My eyes grew large as I skittered back from the door with what I could only imagine to be a look of horror on my face. I could tell that Lyndie didn’t know who she was, but could make an educated guess simply based on my expression alone.

“Ah, here’s where they hid you,” Ms. Heller said, strolling into the small office, closing the door behind her. “I had to ask a few different people where they stashed away the interns, and it was surprisingly hard to get a good answer. I have to admit, I’ve walked past this door for years and always just assumed it was a closet.”

“It pretty much is just a closet,” Lyndie said.

“I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting,” said Ms. Heller, offering a hand towards Lyndie.

“Lyndie Brown,” she said, shaking Ms. Heller’s hand. “I’m also an intern.”

“Nice to meet you. I am Gabrielle Heller. I’m kind of in charge around here.”

Lyndie shook her head. “So I’ve heard.”

“Ah, so you’re familiar with me?”

Lyndie looked at me and then back at Ms. Heller. Lyndie seemed humbled for the first time that I had ever seen. She had spent most of her time bemoaning the corporate culture of this company, and so I didn’t think it was respect for Ms. Heller as a CEO. It was respect for Ms. Heller as a powerful woman.

“Yeah, I’ve heard a thing or two.”

Ms. Heller laughed. “Well, I shouldn’t pry too much. I don’t know what Mr. Ashburn here has told you or not.”

Lyndie quickly blurted out: “He told me about the diapers.” She then looked back at me, mouthing the word ‘sorry.’

I couldn’t be too mad. The truth was already out, whether Ms. Heller knew it or not.

“Ah, perfect,” Ms. Heller said. “Then I suppose it won’t be too awkward when I let Clark know that I came to find him because I wanted to check on said diaper.”

I felt my face burn as I sheepishly looked down at the floor. “Here?”

“Well, it’d be silly to make you walk all the way back to my office just so I can check your diaper, yes?”

“But…Lyndie…”

“I’m happy that she’s here,” Ms. Heller said. “As an up and coming woman of business herself, maybe she could benefit from a little lesson on dealing with big babies.”

I watched Lyndie’s lips curl into a smile. I wanted to protest, but I couldn’t imagine that she’d listen to me. I obediently stepped toward Ms. Heller.

It was best just to get this sort of thing over with as quickly as possible.

 

[Anton]

Great chapter!

[kirababy]

wow what an unexpected/expected surprise.   Sort of a nice diversion with the other diapered gal, but now worlds are sort of colliding...thinking that Clark now has a sitter.