Discipline in the Workplace - Part 3 (Patreon)

That was definitely true. Even that day, her humiliations had barely even begun, as Amy gave her a spanking, bent over the changing table, with Samantha begging and pleading the whole time for her to stop, to let her up, getting more and more desperate as it went on, not only because it was actually starting to sting, even through the diaper, but also because she could feel the cramps in her belly growing worse and worse, until, inevitably...

"What are you doing?!" Amy demanded, stopping, though by then it was too late. Samantha couldn't bring herself to answer... She grunted, red-faced, her body depositing another load of mush into her pants, right where she'd been getting spanked just moments before. This couldn't be happening, not to her... She was the one who put people in diapers; she didn't need them herself! 

"You couldn't even wait until your punishment was over?" Amy shook her head. "You really do belong in these, don't you? Is that why you make everyone else wear them? Because you know you should be in them, and you want to feel more powerful?"

Samantha couldn't even find the strength to point out that it was Amy's fault she was using the diaper like this, or tell her that she could do whatever she wanted at the office, since she was the boss... Right then, feeling the seat of her diaper expand even further behind her, she certainly didn't feel like she deserved to be in charge of anything.

Amy gave her another few moments to try to answer, then shook her head, and, to Samantha's horror, resumed the spanking, this time with a paddle. Not only did the implement make it hurt far more than it had when Amy was just using her hand, each swat spread the mess further around Samantha's diaper, reminding her with every mortifying squelch that she'd pooped her pants.

It was far from the last spanking she'd receive, either. Amy sent her home - after some time in the corner - in a fresh diaper and a t-shirt she let her borrow, refusing to remove the cuffs or collar, which were all locked into place, not even giving her back the heels she'd been wearing. "These are for grown-ups, or little girls who want to feel big... And you don't deserve to feel like anything but a little baby. I don't want you to wear heels again until I give you permission, do you understand?"

Samantha had nodded, of course, though that hadn't stopped her from putting on another pair the next morning; she hadn't really had any choice. It was bad enough that she couldn't get the cuffs off, and the memory of the night before was still fresh in her brain... How could she go into the office and act like the boss without something to make her feel more mature? 

Not that she would let anyone else see her... She dressed herself carefully, trying to hide the signs of her bondage, but she was still afraid somebody would notice, so she went in early and sequestered herself in her office. Somebody was late, but she decided to let it go. Nobody bothered her... At least, not until lunchtime.

"Knock, knock," Amy said, pushing open the door. Samantha froze - for a moment, she hoped the woman was there to release her, but then she remembered what she was wearing. She tried to kick the shoes off, but Amy was too quick for her, shutting the door and swooping around to the other side of the desk before Samantha could get the shoes off and try to hide them.

That spanking was almost worse... There was no padding to protect her, so it was even more painful, especially once Amy pulled a hairbrush from her purse, and the humiliation of the dirty diaper was replaced by the fact that she knew she was mere feet away from her workers, that if she cried out too much, they might hear and come investigate, to make sure everything was all right.

When it was over, Amy diapered Samantha right there on the desk, where Samantha was usually the one handing out diaper discipline, demanding that, from then on, she was not only banned from heels, but also big girl panties. She began to stop in more and more to check on Philip, and then Samantha; when she couldn't go in herself, she had Philip make sure she was diapered, and even change her if she needed it, since she was his new little sister.

On the weekends, Amy insisted that Samantha stay with her and Philip, and she spent the entire time in diapers and baby clothes, not even allowed to ask for the potty Philip sometimes used. After a couple weeks, Philip suggested that Samantha, as the baby sister, should have to crawl, and Amy liked that so much, she gave him extra ice cream at supper.

"You're such a good girl," Amy told Samantha one day. "I don't think you need these anymore, do you?" To Samantha's surprise, the other woman began unlocking the cuffs and the collar, something she usually only did when she was about to give her a bath, which shouldn't be happening for several more hours. "You know your place now, don't you?"

Samantha nodded shyly. After spending her days at work in diapers herself, far too nervous to even think about putting anyone else in them, after all the time she'd spent here, crawling around in whatever outfit Amy and Philip chose for her - which pretty much never fully covered her diapers - knowing that if she had to use the bathroom for anything, it would be happening in her pants, after all the spankings, mouth-soapings, line-writing, and whatever other discipline Amy could come up with for her, it was hard not to know that she was just a baby now, and she had to do whatever she was told.

"Perfect," Amy smiled. "Philip is having a little work get-together out in the living room... I thought you should go say hello and play out there until it's time for me to give you a bath and put you to bed. What do you think?"

Samantha thought that was mortifying, that there was no way she would be able to face anyone, come Monday, if she went crawling in there now, her ruffled-bottom diaper cover up in the air... She also thought that there was no way, after the oatmeal she'd had for breakfast, and the mashed bananas she'd had with lunch, she would be able to keep her diaper clean until bathtime...

But what she said, knowing she had no real choice in the matter, and that it would be best to just be a good little girl, was, "Yes, Mommy," crawling anxiously out of the playpen and towards the nursery door, that any respect her employees might have left for her at this point was about to be completely erased.