Power Lunch [Tier 3 Exclusive] (Patreon)

Everett looked at his watch and sighed. Only ten more minutes to go.

“...and if you take a look at the estimated earnings across the second and third quarters, it’s pretty obvious that…”

He wasn’t sure why he had even attempted to try paying attention. This was the third meeting this morning, and it was the worst yet. It was actually worse than the second meeting of the morning - the one where a committee was being assembled to discuss whether or not there were too many meetings.

He looked at his watch again. Nine and a half minutes now. He shouldn’t have looked.

Things had changed. He could remember being excited by meetings. Collaboration. Brainstorming. Statistics. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could feel those topics still tickling brain cells somewhere.

But there were far more important things on his mind now.

Cynthia was at the front of the board room, pointing at numbers and lines in charts. He had no idea what this meeting was about.

Though, how was it that Cynthia had such big breasts and he had never noticed before? That tight yellow sweater did little to hide their size and shape. They looked voluptuous. They looked scrumptious. They looked…

He quickly shook away the thoughts, feeling ashamed for allowing himself to think like that. He wasn’t a perfect man, but he had always tried not to be as disrespectful and sexist as his male colleagues.

Clearly, he was hungry.

“...so we’d have to go back and check the numbers for last year’s shipments,” Cynthia said with a shrug.

He wondered if anyone in the room was actually paying attention to her.

“Look, all that said, I don’t think we’re that far off from our goals. We’d just need to work a little harder this year…”

He yawned, lifting his wrist closer to his face again. Except this time he couldn’t bring himself to look at it.

“...a little plumper…”

That had perked his ears. Did she just say…

“...a little more squeezable…”

His eyes widened as he looked around the room.

“...with a nipple that would fit right into your mouth…”

There was absolutely no way that she was saying this, right? He wanted to tap on Tom McDonnell’s shoulder to ask him, but he was just staring ahead at Cynthia, listening intently.

“...and you could just suckle all day until you’ve had your fill.”

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them, he found that he was still in the same meeting. Same people. Same Cynthia. Same breasts. But…

“...with these resources, there’s really no excuses for not meeting our goal this quarter.”

It was business as usual. He sighed. Another daydream. Hell, it could have been a real dream - he hoped he hadn’t been snoring.

“Alright, everyone,” Cynthia said. “Thanks so much for being here today. We’ll schedule a follow-up to this next week.”

They were dismissed. They slowly lumbered out from the conference room. Some commented on the length of the meeting, while others mentioned how they were just happy that it was lunch.

None of them mentioned Cynthia discussing the possibility of someone suckling from her breast.

He rushed back to his desk and checked his cell. One missed text from Marianne: I don’t have time to go home. Can I meet you at your office?

His cheeks flared and he began to breathe heavily. This wasn’t the message he was hoping to receive. He began to frantically type out a message on his phone but after five or six consecutive inaccurate autocorrects, he thought it’d be better to just call. He went all the way down to the first floor and stepped out into the courtyard before calling her.

“Hello,” she said. He could hear the open windows of her car in the background. She was still driving.

“I got your text,” he said. “You...can’t go home?”

“I’m running late,” she said. “I’d have to go all the way across town to get to the house. Even if you were already there when I got home, I’d only have, like, five minutes before I have to leave again. It doesn’t seem worth it.”

“But…”

“I know, I know,” she said. “That’s why I offered to come to you instead.”

He sighed, looking around the courtyard at the other professionals darting in and out of the building in their fancy suits.

“I just...here? Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

The parking garage next to your building is huge, right? There’s got to be at least one quiet corner there where we can meet.”

“I mean, maybe. But…”

“You didn’t bring lunch today, right?” she asked.

“No…”

“Right. So I’m sure you’re starving.”

“That’s true.”

“And what about your diaper?”

He sighed, again taking a look around - as if someone 20 feet away would have been able to have heard that question while the phone was pressed against his ear.

“It’s...wet.”

“Just wet?”

“Just wet.”

“That’s concerning,” she said.

“What do you mean?”

“Honey, you haven’t had a bowel movement since yesterday morning. You’re long overdue for one.”

“But...Marianne. Be reasonable. I’m at work. I can’t just...go in my diaper while I’m in the office.”

She sighed on the other end of the line. “I know, I know. I just...I worry that it’s going to be a long afternoon for you.”

“Well if we were meeting at home,” he said, “I could’ve tried to...uhm...use my diaper again. So that you could change me before I went back to work.”

“You shouldn’t be sitting in your soggy diaper all afternoon either,” she said. “The backup diaper bag is in the backseat, so I can still change you once I get there.”

“You’re...going to change me in the parking garage?”

“What choice do I have?”

“Marianne! I work here! The people here...nobody knows that I…”

“And nobody has to know either. Just go to the parking garage, okay. Find a quiet area and then text me the spot. Once I get there, I can feed you and change you.”

He sighed, not thrilled about this plan, but finding it better than nothing at all. “Yes, alright.”

“And look,” she said. “It’s completely up to you. But it can’t be comfortable for you holding your bowels all day until you get home. Just use the diaper. I’ll be there soon. I can change you. Promise.”

“I...I’ll think about it,” he said.

“Text me the spot,” she reminded him.

“I will.”

“Okay, see you soon,” she said before disconnecting.

--

On most days, this worked. And it was amazing.

Usually, he got his diaper changed once in the morning, once after he came home from work and usually once more before bed. Once in a great while there might be an extra emergency change needed.

This was what he wanted: 24/7.

She had been surprisingly receptive to it. She always had been, really. Long ago, he had admitted that he liked to wear diapers. She didn’t bat an eye before asking him to show her.

And so it had always been.

He said he wanted to wear diapers, and she told him to wear diapers. He wanted to piss himself in front of her, and she told him that he might as well mess them too. He wanted her to change his diaper for him, and she went out and bought an economy sized package of baby wipes.

She was into it, perhaps even more than he was.

So when he said that he wanted to try wearing diapers 24/7, she was all for it - even if she had warned him that there would be no compromises.

He’d be a baby at work just as he was a baby at home. He’d be a baby on vacation. He’d be a baby while visiting his mother.

He’d be a baby until he said he didn’t want to be anymore.

That was four months ago, and he hadn’t said otherwise yet.

--

He took the elevator in the parking garage to the 10th floor. That seemed like a good starting point - right smack in the middle.

As he probably could have predicted, there were a number of cars near the elevator, but not many elsewhere. It made sense - nobody was taking ten flights of stairs to get to their car up here. He had his pick.

With this good fortune, the decision as to whether or not he’d use his diaper further was a little easier. There were few cars up here, and it would be a piece of cake for Marianne to park in a nice quiet corner so that she could change his diaper.

And to feed him. The very thought made him salivate.

He texted her: 10th floor. J-34. All the privacy we could ask for.

There was no immediate response, but it was probably for the best if she was driving.

And now for that decision…

Marianne had been right on both accounts: It had been a bit since the last time he had a bowel movement, and it would be a very long and uncomfortable afternoon if he waited any longer. And she was bringing a fresh diaper anyway…

He was convinced. Honestly, he was surprised that it had taken so long for a scenario like this to present itself. He had plenty of close calls - there were days he had just barely shuffled out of the office before he unleashed a squishy hell into his diaper. But this would be the first time that he would do that in his diaper while at work long without already being en route to home.

Months ago, he wondered what being in diapers 24/7 felt like. Would he quickly lose his ability to control his bladder and bowels?

As it turned out - that wasn’t much of a concern. He felt just as capable of controlling his functions as he always had. If anything, he was frequently finding himself holding it more than he ever had before - while waiting for the right moment to use his diaper.

Still, the act of actually using the diaper had gotten easier. He didn’t need to get himself into an awkward position or stance any longer. He found that he could now use his diaper from just about any position. Laying down. Sitting. Jogging.

And so, while he just stood alone in the vast vacant north-side of the parking garage’s 10th floor, he pushed his load into the diaper. It was, indeed, a sizable mess. Making up for lost time, he supposed.

It was heavy and thick, having filled up almost the entirety of the backside of his diaper, causing it to sag down his bottom and between his legs within his pants. He knew the feeling of a big load quite well - and this might have been one of the biggest yet.

For a minute or three, he didn’t think much of it. In fact, the very nonchalance of the situation only made him feel smaller and more infantile than he had ever felt. Don’t mind me - just standing around while filling my diaper, he thought. It was only when the smell of his foul diaper reached his nose that he had begun to blush a little. He wondered how far out from his stink could radiate. Would anyone near the elevator be able to smell the so-called professional who just loaded his diaper?

He checked his phone again. No response. She was out there still - driving to see him. She would change him. She would feed him.

--

It had been her idea.

Up to this point, everything had been his idea. His fantasy. His dream scenario that she just helped to enable. She said that she loved it of course, but he often found himself feeling a little guilty over how the investment of time and energy his kink required.

So when she came to him with the idea of inducing lactation, he felt completely happy for a number of reasons. For one - of course he wanted Marianne to breastfeed him. Actually breastfeed - with actual milk from her own breasts.

But, also, this was an investment of time and energy on her part - of her own volition. This wasn’t just Everett’s Kinky Life of Pleasure anymore. It was a shared experience. This was theirs now.

--

He paced back and forth along the wall of the parking garage. To his knowledge nobody else knew he was there. For now, he’d be able to marinate in his dirty diaper while he waited for Marianne to show.

And that - her showing up to change him in her SUV - that was kind of hot for him. They had talked about scenarios like this in the past. The strange makeshift places that would have to be used to change a diaper. And that was happening here. Soon.

“Everett?”

It was a woman’s voice, but it wasn’t Marianne. Whomever it belonged to, they were walking towards him from the elevator. They knew him. Her voice had sounded familiar, and why did he feel like he had just heard it?

Oh. Fuck.

“Cynthia,” he said with a distressed sigh.

“I thought I saw you bopping around over here,” she said with a laugh. “What are you doing here all by yourself?”

“I...I suppose I could’ve asked you the same thing,” he replied.

“Oh I don’t usually park up here,” she said with a shrug.  “But I got in late today and this was as good as it got.”

He could’ve cursed aloud for not having gone up one or two more floors.

“Does it always...smell up here?”

He felt his cheeks warming as he tried to think of something quickly.

“I...don’t think so,” he said. “I heard there was something like a...sewage leak up here?”

“Sewage?” Cynthia’s nose wrinkled up as she looked around suspiciously. “Is there even a bathroom in this garage? Running water?”

He just shrugged.

“Do you smoke?” she asked.

He wasn’t quite sure why she’d care or be asking, so he was quick to spit out an answer: “No, I don’t.”

“Oh,” she said. “I guess...I just assumed you were over here smoking. I know a lot of folks from the office come up here to smoke. It’s nicer than the actual designated smoking area, you know?”

Now he felt stupid for not just lying.

He fumbled for the right words, and he just started talking - hoping that he’d figure out what he was saying as he said it. “I...sometimes just need to...get away, you know? Just some...quiet space to hang out in.”

That didn’t feel like too bad of an answer.

“Of course,” she said. “Well I hope I didn’t bother you. Like I said, I just wanted to say hi. I really appreciate you being in that meeting earlier. I know it wasn’t too exciting but...I...I just…”

Her voice had trailed off a little, as something seemed to have clicked for her. When she looked back up at him again, she had a look of concern in her eyes.

“Everett...are you okay?”

“Y-yes, of course. Why do you ask?”

“I just...that smell. Please, Everett, don’t take offense to this, but...are you okay?”

“Uh…”

“I don’t mean to pry,” she continued. “You can tell me to go to hell if it’s none of my business. But...if you had an accident…” She seemed uncertain of how to end that sentence for a moment, but she found the words that she was looking for: “...I can help.”

Help? What did that even entail?

This was the age-old fantasy, he thought. Getting caught in public by an attractive woman. A shame that here, in the moment, he felt more likely to leap off the side of the 10th story of the parking garage than to help promote some sort of...adult situation.

He looked down at her breasts again, but he quickly corrected and went back to her face.

“I’m okay,” he said. “Promise.”

“You poor dear,” she said, her head tilting sympathetically. “Is that what it was? An accident? It’s okay if you did. It happens sometimes!”

He was in a bit of a quandary. How much longer could he deny that he did have an accident? And how much could he trust her to keep a secret?

“My girlfriend is coming,” he said.

“Oh… Is she meeting you here?”

He nodded.

“...with a change of clothes, I hope?”

He nodded again. He was, more or less, telling the truth.

“Gosh, I’m so sorry,” she said again. “I...shouldn’t have come over. You must be so embarrassed. I won’t tell a soul. Promise.”

“I...I would appreciate that,” he said. He sighed. That was an admission.

“If there’s anything you need,” she asked, “just let me know and…”

Marianne’s black SUV wound its way around the center ramp onto the 10th floor, making an efficient line to where he stood. He could see Marianne’s face through the windshield as she pulled into a spot - she looked a little confused at his company.

“Hey,” she said, rolling down the window. He could sense Marianne’s hesitation to say much more.

“Hey…” he said.

“You’re such a saint for coming,” Cynthia said to the woman in the car.

This prompted another confused look from Marianne.

“She, uh…” He started over again: “This is Cynthia from work. She ran into me up here while I was waiting for you.”

“Oh,” Marianne said. She still didn’t quite understand the situation, but she nodded politely anyway. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m his girlfriend.”

“He said you’d be coming,” Cynthia said. She turned back to Everett: “I’ll leave you two alone. But, again, I promise I won’t say anything to anyone, okay?”

“Won’t say anything to anyone about what?” asked Marianne.

Damn. He now wished -in addition to picking an entirely different floor to fill his diaper on - that he had told Marianne what he had done.

“Oh…” Cynthia looked completely confused now. If Marianne wasn’t there to bring him a change of clothes, why was she there? “Everett just had an…” she looked to Everett, as if looking for a sign as to whether or not she should say more aloud.

“Oh!” Marianne exclaimed, suddenly nodding her head. She had managed to piece some things together. “Did he mess his diaper?”

An epically dense cloud of awkwardness hung over the entire floor of the parking garage at that moment. Just as Marianne immediately knew that she had said far too much, Cynthia knew that she had heard far too much.

There was no social protocol for a situation like this - at least not that any of the three of them knew. It wasn’t the kind of thing that one could just pretend they didn’t hear either. This was the sort of thing that’d stick with Cynthia for the rest of her life - regardless of how long she would work with Everett.

Which, he thought, may not have been that much longer - considering how even more tempting that leap from the parking garage was now looking.

“I’m sorry,” Marianne said. It wasn’t directed to anyone in particular.

“I should probably head back to the office,” Cynthia said.

Everett opened his mouth to say something. Anything. “I...I don’t wear…” He gave up. He probably wasn’t going to convince her.

Marianne turned the car off and stepped out of the car. “You can keep this to yourself, right? Nobody has to know that Everett…” She didn’t want to say it out loud again.

“O-of course,” Cynthia said. “I swear. I won’t tell a soul.”

Everett remained mostly paralyzed by the situation, and Marianne continued to take point.

“We’d really appreciate that.”

“For what it’s worth,” Cynthia said softly, “I think it’s really sweet that you help take care of him if he has some sort of...condition.”

Marianne smiled. It was hard for Everett to ever know exactly what went on in her head at that moment. Did she simply want to take advantage of this situation for the purpose of humiliating me? Did she actually just have that much trust in Cynthia’s word that what happened near her car in the parking garage, stayed there? Or was it as simple as her not wanting Cynthia to believe that I had some sort of medical condition?

“It’s no condition,” Marianne said.

“No?”

“It’s our lifestyle.”

“Oh.” For a split second, Cynthia had accepted that answer. Then, just as quickly, she realized that the answer made even less sense to her. “Wait...what?”

“I keep Everett in diapers,” Marianne said. “He wears them all the time now. And when he uses them...I change him. And, well, we were supposed to meet at home today, but…”

“Th-that’s enough,” I interrupted. “She...doesn’t need to know all that.”

Marianne and Cynthia shared a look. It was an entire conversation - communicated without a single word.

You’re going to tell me, right?

Of course.

“I’m here to feed Everett his lunch.” With that, Marianne had grabbed her own breasts, giving them a hearty shake. “Though his dirty diaper will have to be taken care of too, while I’m here.”

Judging by the look on Cynthia’s face, she had a lot of questions.

“I wish I had more time to talk about this,” Marianne continued. “But I’m already running kind of late. We could talk more about this another time if you want?”

“Oh, well,” Cynthia blushed a little as she shrugged. “I don’t want to...intrude.”

Marianne shrugged. “In exchange for your discretion, you can intrude all you want.”

Cynthia looked to be thinking the offer over - but Everett knew she wouldn’t have to think too hard.

“I won’t tell a soul,” she said.

“Why don’t we all get into the car,” Marianne said. “We can talk while I take care of Everett.”

The backseats were already folded down and a changing mat had already been laid out in advance. Cynthia figured that Marianne had either known what she was getting into before she arrived, or this wasn’t the first time that he had needed to be changed in the back of a car. Everett laid down in the back with his smelly rear end pointed out the back of the open hatch where Marianne prepared her diaper changing tools. Cynthia sat up in the passenger seat, though she had turned around as much as she could to watch the action.

“Is he...incontinent?” Cynthia asked.

“Oh goodness no,” Marianne answered, following a burst of laughter. “You’re just a baby, aren’t you, Everett?”

Everett sighed, but had nothing to offer himself.

Cynthia seemed to be speechless. She watched Marianne strip Everett’s pants off and had unfastened the tapes from the diaper. Cynthia had known what to expect, given the thick stench - especially now that they were in the car together - but actually seeing the massive mess in his diaper as Marianne peeled the diaper open proved to exceed any expectations she actually had.

“A baby?” she finally asked.

“I hope he doesn’t give you a hard time in the office,” Marianne said, looking up at her with a smile on her face. “I mean - if he has, I imagine it’d be hard to take Mr. Poopy-Pants seriously now.”

“He’s always been very polite to me,” Cynthia offered.

Being talked about as if he wasn’t there could have been more humiliating than having his diaper changed in front of his co-worker.

“He is a nice boy,” Marianne said. “I’d like to take credit for teaching him to respect women, but maybe he’s always been a softy in the presence of a cute woman.”

Cynthia smiled at the compliment.

“This was his idea,” Marianne said. “All of this. I mean, I love it. Adore it, really. But he’s the one who begged me to keep him in diapers.”

“So...he wears them all the time?”

“All the time.”

Cynthia looked down to Everett: “You don’t poop yourself at work often, do you?”

He shook his head.

“Seems like a bad habit to have, doesn’t it?” Marianne asked. “But no. We’ve been lucky enough so far to have avoided such a catastrophe. Though...today is certainly a new experience.”

Marianne lifted Everett’s legs into the air so that she could carefully wipe him clean, depositing the dirty wipes into the open diaper. She then pulled out from under him and rolled it up tight and bagged it before drawing a new diaper from her bag.

“Maybe I could be of assistance?” Cynthia said.

“Oh?” Marianne seemed genuinely surprised and intrigued by the offer. “How do you think you’d like to help?”

“Well...I mean, I can’t pretend to know everything about yours and Everett’s little game. But I think I get the gist of it. And, I dunno, it looks...fun.”

“It is,” Marianne chimed in.

“He’s very lucky to have a girlfriend…”

“A mommy,” corrected Marianne.

“He’s lucky enough to have a mommy as wonderful as you to take care of him. But he’s in this office for a good portion of the day.”

A smile began to form on Marianne’s face as she put a brand new diaper on him.

“I’m just saying,” Cynthia continued. “If you need anyone to...check his diaper? Or, like if there was an emergency and he needed to be changed…”

“You’d be up to that, would you?” Marianne asked, her smile turning into a full-on grin.

“Maybe,” Cynthia said. Her tone was so casual, Everett thought. As if everything she had just been exposed to made complete sense.

“We should keep in touch,” Marianne said. “I like you.”

“I’d like that.”

Everett didn’t say anything again.

The hatch door closed and Marianne circled around to the side door, crawling in to be next to Everett before closing the door.

“So...before?” asked Marianne. “When you said you were going to feed him? You meant that you were going to…”

Marianne had already unbuttoned her blouse and pulled her plump breast from it. No audience, nor added humiliation it seemed, could stop him from crawling up close to her so that he could get his mouth onto her nipple. It was almost primal and animalistic, the way that he just needed to have it.

“Yes,” Marianne said - though the question had already been answered by that time.

He was a noisy eater, and the sound of his slurping and suckling filled the SUV, occasionally punctuated by a light moan from Marianne.

Cynthia was absolutely transfixed by the sight. Sure, it was weird. Like, really weird. But there was something rather beautiful about it too. It was a show of affection that probably very few could understand, but it meant everything to each other.

Cynthia was smitten. She was also jealous.

“He’s a little piggy,” Marianne said over the wet snorting sounds of his feeding. “But this is his only meal until tonight. So I’m sure he wants to savor it.”

“Is it...good?” Cynthia asked?

“My milk?”

She nodded.

Marianne shrugged. “I suppose. But I doubt that the baby here cares about the taste.”

Cynthia nodded, fascinated.

“Did you...want to try?” Marianne asked.

“Oh...I couldn’t,” Cynthia said with a laugh.

“He wouldn’t share anyways,” Marianne said. “But seriously. Get my number from Everett later. Call me. We’ll talk. You can even have a taste if you’d like.”

“I will absolutely be getting your number,” Cynthia said.

Marianne’s hand reached between Everett’s legs, massaging the new swollen lump in the front of his diaper.

“He can’t help himself,” she said. “He tastes Mommy’s milk and he gets all worked up.”

“I can see that.”

“I used to indulge him a little, you know? Rub him down a little while he got his meal. But I kind of like just teasing him now. I get a little handsy while he suckles - I might even let him think that he’s going to spurt into his diaper. But then - and it took a little practice to see the signs of when he’s getting close - I just let go.”

Her hand had pulled away from his diaper, causing Everett to huff into her breast in frustration.

Marianne looked at the time.

“Alright, Babypants. I wish I could do this longer, but I have to get back on the road again. Just as I’m sure you should probably get back to work as well.”

Everett slowly pulled himself away from her chest, milk still on his lips.

He quickly got his pants on and exited the SUV, joining Cynthia in the parking lot again. Marianne was just about to get back into the driver’s seat before remembering one last thing. She shoved the balled up dirty diaper into his hands.

“Could you be a doll and dispose of that on the way back to the office?” she asked. “I don’t want it stinking up my car.”

He nodded sheepishly.

“I’ll walk back with him,” Cynthia said. “I’ll make sure that he does.”

“I like you,” Marianne said again. “How did you find my stinky Baby anyways?”

“Just luck, I think,” Cynthia said.

She had left out a few details - as she had with Everett. One day, she figured, she’d fill them in. She’d tell them about how she had noticed Everett staring at her chest. Or the times she followed him around the office just because she was curious about his strangely plump and crinkling bottom. She’d confess that she had once caught the waistband of a diaper sticking out of the back of his pants.

And while she hadn’t really known what was going on - her curiosity had been what drove her to follow him into the parking garage.

For now, it could just be a happy coincidence.

They said their goodbyes, and Marianne was on her way again, leaving Cynthia and Everett to head back to the office together - with all of his secrets out in the open for her now.

“Did you know?” he asked as the elevator doors closed in the parking garage for the descent to the ground floor.

She shrugged and smiled.

“Does anyone else know?” he asked.

“I don’t think so,” she said. That wasn’t entirely true either. There may have been a discussion once or twice about Everett’s bulky pants. But now that she knew the truth she could have his back. Throw some ladies off the trail. Off the scent, as the case may be.

“I’m scheduling another meeting this afternoon,” she said. “Does three work for you?”

“Yeah, I think so. Another meeting? What for?”

“Well, it’ll just be you and me. And I figured you can give me your girlfriend’s number. And while I have you, I might as well check your diaper.”

He nodded, but sighed.

All he had wanted was lunch.