Doing Business, Part 14 (Patreon)

Fourteen

“How long has it been?”

“Fifteen minutes,” I said, checking the time on my phone.

“How do you feel?”

“Honestly? I have no idea. If I feel even the slightest twitch in my gut, I can’t decide if it’s from the suppository or it’s just a normal feeling that I’m hyper-focused on.”

She laughed and shook her head.

“What?” I asked. “What is so funny?”

“Oh come on,” Lyndie said. “You don’t see the humor in all this?”

“Not from this vantage point, no.”

“Like, could you even imagine going up to another person in this office and demanding that they take off their pants so their boss can shove a suppository up their ass? And then they have to wear a diaper and shit themself in a building with hundreds of employees? Nobody would ever agree to that. Just asking someone that question would probably get them to quit.”

That was a little amusing to me. “And then there was me.”

“And then there was you,” she repeated. “You probably stuck your ass up into the air as high as you possibly could and begged for it. ‘Mommy, put it in my little tushy!’”

“Well that didn’t happen…”

“That’s how it played out in my imagination,” she said.

Mine too, though I didn’t say that. I felt a stirring somewhere in my abdomen. Different enough that it didn’t seem ‘normal.’ Maybe the first definitive sign that the suppository was doing its thing. I sighed and bit my bottom lip, nervous about how things would escalate from here.

“You’re too tense,” Lyndie said casually, sipping from her coffee cup.

“I don’t suppose you could blame me,” I said. “I’m just an unknown amount of time away from pooping my pants at work.”

“But this is what you want,” she said.

“It’s complicated,” I replied, not intending to say that out loud. I decided I might as well finish that thought out loud: “Right now? I’m terrified and worried. I just know how crushing this humiliation is going to feel. But later, in hindsight? I’ll probably feel pretty good about it all.”

“And you’ll want it again,” she said.

“Yeah. Probably.”

Another gurgle in my tummy. Intestines? I wasn’t even sure what the point of origin was, only that it happened in there somewhere. Things were happening.

Knock knock. Someone at the door. My first thought was that it was Ms. Heller. Having finished her meeting early, she came to fetch me and bring me back to her office, sparing me the humiliation of having to use this diaper anywhere else in the building.

But when I unlocked and opened the door, I was disappointed to see that it was only Anderson.

“Was the door locked?” he asked. “What the hell are you two doing in here?”

“The door gets…jammed sometimes,” I said.

When I had first started my internship here, Anderson seemed older and wiser to me. It was like being a freshman in high school and walking past the seniors. They seemed infinitely more mature in a way that I just couldn’t ever imagine being myself. But sooner or later you realized that they were just kids too, and none of you had any idea what being an adult was.

Anderson was just a young scrappy punk himself. The lowest man on the corporate totem pole.

He walked into The Closet, arms crossed in front of him.

“Hey,” Lyndie said, nodding towards him. “What's up? Got some filing for us or something?”

“I’ll tell you ‘what’s up,’” he spat. He stuck a frustrated finger out towards me. “Why did I just hear that you’re getting a full-time job here?”

“Well…I was offered it, and…”

“How?” he hissed. “How did a lowly fucking intern get offered a full-time position as the assistant for the CEO of our company? I scour the available positions every single morning in the hopes of finding a chance to move up the ranks. And you? You do absolutely nothing but are somehow getting handed a position that I’d have killed for?”

Lyndie looked to me and shrugged. “Wow. Word sure does travel fast around here.”

Anderson scoffed, maybe feeling annoyed that Lyndie was carrying on her own conversation with me instead of directly talking to him. “So how did you do it, huh? Is your father Charles Arnold? Maybe you’re somehow related to Gregory Connors?”

I had no idea who those people were, and I just shrugged.

“Did you sleep with her?” he said. “Is that what it was? Did she handpick some young little intern to manipulate into the sack?”

“Be careful,” Lyndie said. “You’re making some pretty intense accusations.”

I felt a cramp in my gut. A roiling ache that seemed to herald worse things. Please don’t fill your diaper while he’s here, I pleaded with myself.

“I just want to know what the fuck I’m supposed to do to get ahead,” Anderson said, throwing his arms up into the air. “Apparently even the interns have more clout than I do now.”

Lyndie and I looked at each other, sharing the tiniest, knowing, smile. The answer? Probably something like: Just be willing to wear a diaper.

“I-I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t have control over how these things work.”

Another painful cramp. After being uncertain about whether or not I was feeling the effects of the suppository, there was no doubt now. Once it started to take hold of me, things seemed to escalate quickly. I was very aware of the near-sudden intense pressure in my bowels. I could hold it, for now, but I was acutely aware that I might not have this level of control for much longer.

“Well? Should I go down to HR myself?” he asked. “Ask them to look into how an intern manages to be offered a job that I wasn’t even aware of?”

“Clark’s not your enemy,” Lyndie said.

A tiny poot escaped my bottom, mostly muffled by the thick diaper in my pants. I felt my cheeks warm at the uncontrollable burst. I doubted anyone else in the small room knew it even happened, but I knew this was just the beginning. Soon, I’d need to do a lot worse.

“What about you?” Anderson said, steering his accusatory finger to Lyndie instead. “Are you getting promoted too? Are you the new CFO? Vice President of Transportation?”

It was probably a bad time to mention that Ms. Heller had offered a possible position for her as well.

“Maybe you should talk to HR,” Lyndie said. “Take your grievances up with them.”

I wished I had the ability to say anything at all, but my lips were clenched shut and my body had become as stiff as a board. It was taking all of my energy to hold my bowels at bay. My body craved release, and I knew it was all over as soon as I let down my guard–and that guard was weakening.

Anderson shook his head. “Fine.” He spun on his heel and stormed out from our small office, slamming the door shut behind him.

“God, what the hell is up his ass?” Lyndie said immediately after, laughing to herself.

I said nothing, focused on only what my next move was going to be. Just about any move, it seemed, would spell disaster for my diaper. Such was the point, I supposed. Yet I still held out hope for a call from Ms. Heller. Mommy. She’d ask me to come down to her office, and I’d be spared the shameful walk across the office in a full diaper.

Fuck. It might have been too late for that now. Could I actually make that trip while clenching my ass this tightly?

“You okay?” asked Lyndie.

“I… I think I have to let go soon,” I said.

It was as if she had forgotten about my situation for a moment. “Huh?” And then: “Oh, right. That. That’s…happening? Soon?”

I slowly nodded.

“We both know where it’s all going to end up eventually,” she said with a shrug. “You could probably save yourself some discomfort by…just letting go.”

She wasn’t wrong. But the stinky trek across the building to Mommy’s office was still a discomfort I’d need to endure. But, yes, it was an entirely separate discomfort.

Fine. I was convinced. I needed to unload.

“Okay,” I said. “I’m really sorry about this.”

For the last twenty minutes or so, in the back of my mind, I had been trying to imagine what this moment would look like. Did I just stand there and let it happen? Did I bend over, sticking my ass into the air? Squat?

But as it turned out, any amount of thinking would have been too much. In the moment, my body just did what it needed to do. Instinctually. My legs separated as I squatted down a little. It didn’t matter that Lyndie was there, or that she even existed for that matter. In this moment, reality was just me and my diaper.

My bottom opened with an immediate and forceful load being unleashed into the diaper with a loud FWOMP. The back of the diaper expanded as far as it could in my pants–pants that were clearly never intended to hold a full diaper. Moments later, the next wave came–a sticky-sounding bubbling ripple that attempted to further fill the diaper. Vacancy was already limited, and I felt the soft mass squeezing itself anywhere it could. And then came another wave. And another after that, pathetic final squirts paired with uncontrollable grunts as I fought through the last of the cramps. Two days without using a toilet, combined with the suppository–I could only imagine the hell contained within my pants.

I don’t know how long I remained in that position. Maybe a minute. Maybe a few years.

“All done?” Lyndie finally asked from somewhere behind me.

I forgot she was there. I forgot where I was.

“I…I think so.”

“Are you…okay?” she asked. She sounded concerned.

I was checking my emotional pulse. Am I okay? I was fine. That was a lot, and most of it would go unprocessed for a while yet. I was also…disappointed. Not in myself, really. But in Lyndie’s reaction. She wanted to care for me and make sure I was alright. I absolutely appreciated that, and it was a surprising turn for The Lone Wolf. But I didn’t want to be coddled. I wanted to be humiliated and shamed.

I wanted to be destroyed.

“I’m okay,” I said, standing up straight. The heavy diaper wanted to sag, but remained pressed against me in my pants. I could feel the mess squishing and shifting within as I moved.

“Good,” she said, laughing. Some edge had returned to her voice. “Because you fucking stink.”

“Well…”

“I know,” she said, possibly reading my mind again. “I just watched it happen.”

That’s the stuff. Not that I could moan in delight or smile about it. I was very much mortified and embarrassed beyond belief. Still, I was at least able to shove this moment into my pocket. For later.

“Oh…shit,” was all that I could muster, the reality of what I had just done only just beginning to sink in.

“That’s putting it mildly,” she remarked. “I literally watched the back of your pants change shape.” She laughed, a shrill and candid giggle that I wouldn’t have expected from her–perhaps a sign that she was truly that delighted by what she had just seen.

My hands reached around my body to my backside, where I felt the lump in my pants where my diaper was. It all felt incredibly obvious to me–both the diaper and the extra lumpy part of it that most of my mess was packed into.

“Probably feels better out than in, doesn’t it” she asked. “Though I suppose this would be about the time that an actual baby would throw a little temper tantrum because he has a dirty bottom that needs changing.”

“Believe me, I would love nothing more than to throw a temper tantrum right now,” I said.

I sniffed at the air. I was already aware of the pungent odor I had introduced to the small space, but it took a minute or two for me to truly realize just how toxic it was. I slowly turned around to face her, finding her hands were covering her mouth and nose–likely to both muffle her laughter and an attempt to protect herself from the smell of my diaper.

“She expects you to waddle through the office now? Like that?”

I sighed. “I guess? But I don’t even see how that’d be possible. I can’t leave this room. Ever.”

She laughed again. “You’ll have to eventually, stinkybutt.”

There was a ringing sound at that moment, one that neither of us were familiar with. We looked around the room, trying to figure out where it was coming from. Had I set off some sort of security system? Was someone, somewhere, watching me fill my pants and decided that something had to be done?

“It’s the office phone,” Lyndie said, pointing to the mostly-ignored object in the corner of the room. We had all but forgotten it existed, on account of us never needing it before.

I carefully waddled towards the phone. It was a pathetic series of uncertain steps, each sloshing around the contents of my diaper further. I already knew who would be on the phone–there was only one person it could be. Ironic timing, really, but this seemed par for the course in the humiliating cosmic scheme being laid out for me.

“Hello?” I said into the receiver, nervously bringing it to my face.

“Well, Baby?” she cooed from the other end of the line. “How is your diaper holding up?”

“I…did it.”

“Did you now? And just what was it that you did?”

I sighed, looking at Lyndie again as she pinched her nostrils shut and waved away the air in front of her face. “I…well…you know…”

“Oh, come now. Don’t be so timid with your Mommy. You can tell me anything.”

“But you already know–”

“Yes, but I asked you to tell me anyway,” Ms. Heller said. I could almost hear the amused smile on her face as she said this.

“I…went in my diaper,” I said. Cue Lyndie’s giggling again.

“Went?”

“Pooped,” I said, trying again. But I already knew that wasn’t the exact answer she wanted. I tried again: “I pooped my diaper.”

She offered a satisfied hum. “That’s what I wanted to hear. I bet you made a stinky mess for me to clean up, yes?”

“Y-yes, Mommy.”

“Well then, you’ll be happy to know that my office is available now if you want to bring your dirty bottom over here.”

“I…I don’t know if I can do that,” I said.

“No?”

“I just…it was a lot. Like, I really filled my diaper. And it smells terrible. I don’t think there’s any way I could possibly walk to your office like this. Everyone would know immediately.”

“You think so?” she asked. “What is it that you think they’d know?”

“That…I pooped my pants...”

“Accidents happen,” she quickly replied.

“I…think they’re usually frowned upon when you’re an adult. At work.” I hoped that she wasn’t that far removed from normal societal practices.

“I’m teasing,” she said. “But, if you refuse to come to me, that does create a bit of a pickle.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. “How so?”

“Well, I’m due on a conference call in about five minutes, so me coming to you wouldn’t be an option, I’m afraid. I’d be happy to change your dirty diaper on the floor of my office if you’re brave enough to make the trip, of course.”

“But…I can’t.”

“I suppose you’ll just have to wait,” she said. There was very little sympathy in her voice. If I were to have guessed, I’d say she was smiling.

“Oh…it won’t be anytime soon, Baby. Mommy has lots of important calls to make and meetings to be in.”

I certainly needed to be reminded of my place, and her condescending tone certainly did the trick. I was a little boy again–maybe more literally than I’d care to admit. I wanted to crawl behind her, tugging on her apron. Or, pantsuit.

“What am I supposed to do? Please, M-Mommy. My diaper…”

“If you can get yourself to my office in the next hour, I have a fresh diaper waiting for you. And if you choose to remain there, in your little closet, you’d be waiting a few hours until I can go to you.”

“What if…I changed my own diaper?” I asked.

“No,” she said, sternly. “I’m afraid that won’t be an option. You’re too little to change your own diaper.”

“What? Too…little?” I felt myself growing smaller and smaller. She had an extraordinary way of making me feel tiny. “But…”

“I can only imagine the terrible mess you’ve made of yourself,” she said. “I don’t think you’d be able to clean that up all by yourself.”

“I know. That’s why I need you.”

I could hear a soft and approving moan over the phone. She clearly loved to hear of my depencey on her.

“There may be another option,” she said.

“Yes?”

“Is your friend there? The other intern? Lyndie, I believe.”

I looked over to where Lyndie stood, still covering her nose. I swallowed hard, already dreading where this was going. “Y-yes,” I said.

“Baby, would you be a doll and hand the phone to her?”

I felt that paralyzing fear throughout my body again. I nodded, quickly realizing that Ms. Heller wouldn’t be able to see that over the phone. “Yes…”

I slowly extended my arm towards Lyndie, the phone in my outstretched hand for her. I watched Lyndie’s eyebrows lift, curious and excited to see what this was all about.

“She would like to speak to you,” I said.

“With pleasure,” she said, taking the phone from me.

Almost immediately, I was out of the loop. Disconnected. I was a child, only able to listen in as the grown-ups talked, missing all the context and nuance that they had.

“Good morning,” Lyndie said. “How can I assist?”

Assist. My heart pounded as I tried to think of all the ways that Ms. Heller might ask Lyndie to ‘assist’ me.

“Oh yes,” Lyndie said, responding to something I wasn’t privy to. “I haven’t seen it for myself but it certainly smells like he’s made a pretty big mess of his diaper.”

On the other end of the phone, Ms. Heller was talking. I couldn’t hear a word of it, though I could hear the muffled tone of her voice emanating from the phone.

“If you’d like me to, I could certainly do my best,” Lyndie said. “I have to be honest–I’ve never done anything like that before.”

More muffled tones from Ms. Heller. Whatever it was, it was long-winded. All the while, Lyndie nodded along, occasionally interjecting an affirmative “Yes'' or “I understand.” Occasionally she’d look at me, smiling.

What? What are you two talking about?

Finally: “Thank you, Ms. Heller. I completely agree with you. And if that’s how it ends up going, I won’t let you down.” A pause for Ms. Heller to say a few words. Then: “We’ll be in touch, I’m sure. Goodbye.”

She calmly hung up the phone before turning to me, arms crossed. Enormous smile.

“Well?” I asked. “Wh-what did she say?”

“I suspect you already know most of it,” she said, shrugging nonchalantly. “She’s not able to come over here to change your diaper. Well…not for a while, at least. And even if you did want to wait, she doesn’t think that’s a very good idea. She feels you’d almost certainly get a diaper rash.”

My cheeks reddened, just thinking about the idea of being an adult with a diaper rash.

“So,” she continued, “she thinks the other options would be either for you to just go to her office now…”

“No way,” I said. “I can’t do that. I just can’t! Smelling like this? Everyone would know I crapped my pants immediately. I’d be laughed out of the building. But you said ‘options,’ right? What is my other option?”

“Well…”

“C’mon,” I said, practically begging. “What else did she suggest?”

“She suggested that I be the one to change your diaper,” Lyndie said.

“N-no…”

“And, personally, I think that’s a great idea, don’t you? How about I lock the door again, and you take your pants off for me.”