Doing Business, Part 22 (Patreon)

Twenty-Two

From: Thomas Pritchard <tpritchard@xxxxxxxxx>

Date: Monday, March 28 at 4:45 PM

To: Nancy Tamberlin <ntamberlin@xxxxxxxxx>; Human Resources <hr-services@xxxxxxxxx>

Subject: Workplace Concerns

Good afternoon Ms. Tamberlin,

I’ve been with our company for almost two years now, and I’ve considered myself to be a team player to the utmost degree. I’ve worked long hours, including weekend overtime. I’ve gone to every company event. I’ve been outspoken and communicative in every meeting I’ve ever been in here.

And yet, somehow, it doesn’t seem to be enough to get any sort of recognition. Not just a promotion–but even some sort of acknowledgment that my hard work has been noticed and is appreciated. I had convinced myself, for a time, that this was just how a big company operated. I was contributing to something greater, and that in itself was enough.

However, upon reading this morning’s memo that two interns–of all employees–had not only been promoted, but promoted to work with the Executive Team, I feel forced to ask: What is it that they have proved in such a short amount of time that I have been seemingly unable to in my time here?

Ms. Tamblerin, while I don’t wish to insinuate that there’s been any sort of unethical reasons for these promotions–I’m sure you can understand my frustration and skepticism. At your earliest convenience, I’d like to have a conversation with you about what opportunities for growth are actually available to me.

Thank you for your time.

***

My first official day as Ms. Heller’s ‘assistant’ was behind me, and it had proven itself to be vastly different from any day at work I had ever had before. Yet, for all its changes and new perspectives, it ended on a more familiar note.

Lyndie was waiting for me in the main lobby so that we could leave together.

“You survived your first day?” she asked.

“It certainly seems that way.”

“You know that diaper bin I got?” she asked.

I nodded as we began to walk from the office and down the sidewalk in the direction of the train station.

“It does absolutely nothing to lock in the scent of a diaper smelling that bad.”

“O-oh… God, I’m so sorry, Lyndie. I…”

But she was laughing, shaking her head. “I’m not mad about it. I knew what I was signing up for. And the money…well, I can deal with a few stinky diapers now and then.”

I hadn’t thought much about the money. As fantastical as it sounded, I had an actual job–not an internship. And I was getting a salary. It might be a week or two before I got to see one of those paychecks, but the money was good. Too good to be true. So good that I forgot about it most of the time while I thought about my next diaper change and the day I’d get unleashed from my cage.

“I actually owe you a big ‘thank you,’” I said to her.

“Oh?”

“The unscented baby powder?”

She laughed, shrugging. “You noticed?”

“Mommy–er…Ms. Heller. She noticed.”

“As cute as it is to have you floating around the office smelling like a one-year old, I figured that was the way to go.”

“A good call.” I thought about telling her that I owed her a hug, but I kept that to myself for the time being. Instead, I changed the topic a little: “What are you doing tonight?”

“Going over to your place,” she said, smiling.

“Bold of you to invite yourself.”

“But that’s what you were going to suggest, yes?”

I nodded.

“You should order pizza again,” she said. “Same place as last time. That was pretty good.”

“You just want me to order from there again because you’re hoping the same girl who delivered last time will come back.”

Pizza-Girl, I had almost forgotten about her. I could only guess at how many people she had told that story to. And how many people those people told the story to. Somewhere, right now, somebody was telling the story about the guy who answered the door for his food delivery while wearing a giant diaper.

“Oh, that?” Lyndie asked with a chuckle. “Why, I had forgotten all about it.”

“Sure, sure.”

“Please?” she asked. “Put in the order there. I’ll pay you back for the food.”

“I-it’s not about the money.”

But I already submitted the order. And I had no idea if I was scared to death of the same Pizza-Girl coming back to the apartment again, or if I was actually excited about that.

Both, maybe. At the same time.

“Well you know all about how my day went,” I said, changing the subject once more. “How was your first day in your fancy new position of Head Babysitter?”

“Head Babysitter? I wished they’d put that on my business cards. Maybe I could get a small batch made that says that.”

“Ms. Heller would approve that. Easily.”

“I bet. But, yeah, my day wasn’t too bad. We’re in the very early stages of getting Bradley in diapers. It might be a bit before he’s leaving Clark-sized loads in them.”

“Hey…”

“And Megan–I haven’t spent much time with her. I believe she’s in diapers too–at least on occasion. But it seems that Mr. Yang is rather protective of his little princess. So I’m not sure what I have to do there.”

“And what about, uhm, Ava?” I asked.

She turned to me and smiled. “Aww. Have a little baby-crush?”

“N-no. I just…well…I’ve met her a few times and…”

“I suspect she has a little crush on you,” she said.

“What? Really? She said that?”

“Well, she didn’t just come out and say that in so many words. But, you know, she asked about you. And a girl can tell.”

“I don’t have a crush on Ava,” I said.

“Oh, come on now. She’s a total cutie.”

“She is,” I said, nodding. “Like…the most adorable. But…”

Lyndie laughed, shaking her head again. “You’ve got eyes for someone else, hmm”

“Well, I mean…”

“Are we talking about Gabrielle? Mommy?”

I sighed, feeling incredibly flustered. “Fuck. Yeah.”

“That’s so cute,” she said. “And…kind of sad.”

That’s not what I wanted to hear–if only because it was what I was thinking too. “I know, I know.”

“You're her assistant,” Lyndie said. “Her plaything. Her baby. Her…hobby.”

“I know, I know. But it’s just, like, nobody’s ever made me feel like she does before. She’s so beautiful and so smart and…”

“And she has the key to your little cage,” she teased, finishing my thought for me. It’s not what I would’ve said, but I might as well have.

We had made our way to the station platform and boarded a train, lucking into two seats that weren’t taken yet. I was tempted to put a hold on our conversation until we were in a more private place, but Lyndie seemed to see no issue with just carrying on.

“Let’s be realistic,” she said. “Are you going to marry Gabrielle? Are you going to marry Mommy?”

The question, and the snarky tone in which she asked it, caused my cheeks to burn hot. I quickly glanced around, hoping nobody heard her.

“I don’t think so,” I said. “Or…I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“Maybe the tastes of women change as they get older, and I’m just not old enough yet,” Lyndie said. “But I’m pretty sure that if Gabrielle is looking for a husband–he needs to be potty-trained.”

Lyndie wasn’t actually saying anything wrong. I needed to hear this, or to at least be reminded of it. I was so infatuated with the concept of Ms. Heller, that it was sometimes too easy to let myself fall a little too far down the rabbit hole.

“I know,” I said quietly.

“I’m just saying. Not only is Ava a cutie, but she’s also in a very similar situation as you. So, right there, you two have plenty to talk about. And I’m sure Gabrielle would adore you having a little girlfriend of your own.”

“Sure,” I said. “Especially if she holds onto the key to my cock.”

That time, I caught a few random glances from other passengers who heard my comment. I wondered what they thought I might have meant without context.

“Well, I for one just love playing baby matchmaker,” Lyndie said.

“Okay, but nobody’s actually asking to be set up,” I said. “I appreciate you thinking of me, but I really don’t think I’m going to pursue a relationship with Ava.”

“Maybe you just need to spend more time with her.”

“And I’m sure I will. At work, you know?”

“Actually…” There was that trademark playfulness in Lyndie’s voice.

“Actually what?” I asked.

“I texted Ava,” she said.

“And what did you text her?”

“Your address. And I told her that you wanted to see if she’d come by tonight to hang out with us.”

I sighed, feeling my body just give up. Was I ever allowed a moment where I could just be at ease and not at the constant threat of being embarrassed or humiliated?

“I promise, I’m not going to make you play spin-the-bottle with her or anything. But this’ll be good for you. And for her. You might wear diapers all the time now, but you only have to be an actual baby during work hours.”

I’m pretty sure that comment fetched us a few odd glances–likely from the same people who heard what I had said before.

“We’re on our way over to the apartment,” I texted Evan. “Lyndie and I. And I think another friend from work is coming too. I ordered pizza.”

“I know,” he quickly responded.

“You and Evan?” I asked Lyndie. “You two are staying in touch, huh?”

She laughed, shrugging. “We don’t talk much. But I reached out to him this past weekend when you weren’t answering my texts. I just wanted him to confirm you weren’t dead.”

Lyndie, Ava, Evan, Ms. Heller, and maybe everyone else I had ever known in my entire life–I couldn’t help but imagine a vast web of communication, entirely devoted to talking about me.

“I’m cool with Ava coming over,” I said, circling back. “But please don’t make a whole big embarrassing scene about your little matchmaking thing?”

“I’ll do my best,” she said with a shrug. “But I feel like nobody embarasses you more than you.”

Ms. Heller might disagree. But when I wasn’t in her company? Lyndie was probably right.

I was pretty devoid of conversation after that. Lyndie would make a few attempts at small-talk, but it probably seemed pretty obvious that I was simply at mental-capacity for the moment. I wasn’t angry. Not in the least. But I was feeling overwhelmed. Ava. Pizza-Girl. The unknown range of Lyndie’s social network. And then I remembered the thing that had been weighing on my mind just before I met up with Lyndie at the end of the day–Ms. Heller’s suggestion that I join her on the business trip.

“Did you know about Seattle?” I asked as we were getting off the train.

“Seattle?” Lyndie shook her head.

“There’s some sort of conference there next week,” I said. “Mommy…I mean…”

Lyndie laughed. “You can call her ‘mommy’ around me. I’ll try not to poke too much fun.”

“Ms. Heller,” I said, starting over, “is going to Seattle next week for this conference.”

“Does she need me to babysit you?”

“No…she, uhm, asked me to go with her.”

“Oh!” Lyndie said, her eyes lighting up. “Wow. So, like, you and her? Sharing a room together? Day and night?”

I nodded. “Four days straight of me being her baby.”

“You’re going, right?”

I shrugged.

“Oh, come the fuck on, Clark. Why on Earth would you pass up an opportunity like that?”

“I don’t want to say no,” I clarified. “I just… It seems too good to be true, you know?”

“Well Gabrielle doesn’t fuck around. She wouldn’t have invited you if this wasn’t the real deal for her too.”

She was right, as she often was.

“So you have to go,” she added. It wasn’t a suggestion, it was a command.

“I’m going. Of course I’m going to go. I couldn’t not. You just have to let me worry out loud a little about it.”

“This is why you need an actual girlfriend,” she said.

Again, she was probably right. But the concept of a ‘girlfriend’ just didn’t compute with me. After an especially long dry-streak in my life when it came to romantic partners, Mommy had suddenly arrived in my life. And while it was far from a traditional partnership, I found her attention to be exactly the thing that I needed. For now, I simply couldn’t imagine anything else.

I was suddenly wetting myself. I wouldn’t say that it came as a surprise to me–I still had to sign off on my bladder opening the floodgates. But the act of just wetting the diaper felt so normal that I wasn’t completely conscious of it until my diaper began to grow heavy. It had been getting easier and easier the last few days–and I hadn’t been in diapers all that long.

Despite how easy it was to wet my diaper, walking in a wet diaper was still a challenge I hadn’t quite conquered. The saturated padding, now swelling between my legs, immediately began to slow me down and interrupt my stride. Details not lost on Lyndie–who’s ability to detect a used diaper seemed to parallel the ease at which I could use them.

“Something you want to tell me?” she asked, a snide smile on her face.

“I’m sure you already know.”

“Well, you’re walking like someone slipped a pillow into your pants.”

“It feels like someone might have,” I said.

“What’s going on in your diaper, Clarky?”

Clarky. That was new. I didn’t hate it. It was still surreal to me that we were having conversations like this out on the street, in broad daylight. I couldn’t help but look around, seeing if anyone was reacting. Nobody cared. Somewhere deep within my subconscious, I knew I was disappointed by that.

“I peed.”

“Just pee?”

“I think you’d know if I did something else.”

She laughed and nodded. “I think so too.”

“You’re off the clock,” I said. “So please don’t think you have to change me.”

“I’d argue that I’m on the clock 24/7 when my friend is a big baby.”

“If I worked at a hot dog factory all day, the last thing I’d want to do when I got home was to eat a hot dog.”

“You shouldn’t be eating hot dogs anyways,” she retorted. “They’re nasty.”

“I know this is going to sound crazy,” I said, hoping to steer the conversation in a new direction. “But what if tonight wasn’t about diapers and big babies? It was just about…friends hanging out.”

She chuckled. “That is crazy. Especially considering that half of the people in your apartment will be wearing diapers.”

That settled that: there was no way tonight wouldn’t be just as embarrassing as every other moment of my life.

I smiled. That seemed fine by me.