Doing Business, Part 46 (Patreon)

Forty-Six

“Well then,” said a voice. “Meeting adjourned?”

I couldn’t say where I was. It was a place that didn’t exist. A blissful and imaginary realm where I was every bit the stupid and pathetic baby I wanted to be. I had just loaded my diaper and I was sitting in it again. Marinating, as Mommy would say. Even the thick smell of my diaper had gone from ‘abysmal’ to ‘comforting’ in a short amount of time.

And them–the audience. I hoped they were watching. I hoped all of their eyes were fixed on me, taking in the sight of the most blissfully content baby they’d ever see.

“Hello?” said another–more familiar–voice. “Earth to Baby?”

I opened my eyes for a moment, finding that everyone was–in fact–staring at me. The fantasy was much more exciting than the reality, and I closed my eyes again. And the smell had gone right back to ‘abysmal’ again.

What the hell was I thinking?

“I’d apologize,” Mommy said to the others. “But you know how babies are. They can’t help it.”

“Of course,” Ms Beaufort said. “I’ve seen this happen too many times.”

“See?” said Mr. Yang from behind me. “This is why I didn’t want to do the whole baby-thing with Megan. We shouldn’t have to deal with dirty diapers.”

“Some of us like dirty diapers,” Mommy quickly retorted.

“The poor baby probably doesn’t like us talking about his poopy pants like he wasn’t here,” said Mr. Morris, his heavy hand on my shoulder, giving me a gentle shake.

“He loves it,” Mommy said. “Though, for our own comfort if we’re going to finish this meeting, I suppose I should summon Lyndie to take care of this little stinker.”

I watch as she taps at the keypad of her phone in an exaggerated manner, staring ahead at me and smiling as she does so.

“Good morning,” said Lyndie through the phone’s loudspeaker.

“When you have a moment, dear, I’d like for you to stop by my office to retrieve little Clarky.”

“Oh? Is he in need of a change?”

There’s a bit of laughter in the room. Everyone, so far as I can tell, has joined in. Hell, I’m almost laughing, myself.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes,’ then,” Lyndie said. “I’ll be down in a moment.”

“Alright,” Mommy said, standing up from her chair and circling her desk to approach me. “Let’s get your pants and shoes back on. We’re going to have to make you presentable enough that you can get to the nursery.”

“I’m telling you,” Ms. Beaufort said. “We should rethink the arrangement of our offices. We should all have direct access to the nursery without having to trek through the halls.”

“Good luck ever convincing the board of that need,” Mr. Yang said snidely. “We’ll be lucky if we have anything in a few weeks.”

Mommy was opening up my pants for me, helping me to step into them so she could pull them up my legs and over my extra-plump diaper.

“How so?” asked Mr. Morris.

“What’s that kid’s name? Pritchard? He seems intent on causing trouble. The board has always been willing to turn a blind eye towards us–probably because some of them used to be executives like us–but that’s not going to last forever.”

“Let’s not to be too hasty to shout that the sky is falling,” Ms. Heller said, buttoning my pants and latching my belt. “I have a meeting scheduled with Mr. Pritchard, and I’d like to think there’s still a chance we can work something out before it turns into some sort of doomsday scenario.”

“Here,” Ms. Beaufort said, handing Ms. Heller a small vial or bottle of some sort. “Try this. It’s one of the better deodorizers I’ve tried. It’s not going to completely wipe out the smell of a diaper that far gone. But it seems to be enough to get Ava from my office to the nursery when she’s done something dreadful in her pants.”

Mommy sprayed a liberal amount of the clear liquid from the bottle, both directly on me and around me. An intense and overwhelming floral smell filled the room almost immediately.

“Might have overdone it a little,” Mr. Morris said, coughing.

“Better he smells like a flower garden than a landfill,” Mommy said.

“Except we’re all going to smell like a flower garden now,” Mr. Yang said.

That still seemed better to me than them walking around for the rest of the day smelling faintly of my filthy diaper. But I kept my mouth shut.

Knock knock.

Mommy opened the door, letting Lyndie into the room quickly so she could close the door again.

“Oh wow,” Lyndie said, waving a hand in front of her face. “Smells like someone took a shit in a field of flowers.”

“Take him,” Mr. Yang said. “Please.”

“I apologize in advance,” Mommy said to Lyndie. “This one isn’t going to be pretty.”

“They never are,” Lyndie said, smirking. “Come along, Stinky. Let’s get this thing taken care of before people start passing out.”

I took one last look at the faces in Mommy’s office. While most of them wore some level of disgust on their face–the men much more so than the women–they all looked amused by how this scene had played out. This was what it was all about–the thoroughly humiliating devastation of one of the subordinates. All of them–Mommy included–could pat themselves on the back and chuckle that the joke was at my expense.

If there was any part of me still riding that fantastical high from earlier, I was completely sobered now. Now came the reality. The walk of shame. The diaper change. Lyndie’s teasing comments, for sure. A future where the next time I looked at these men and women’s faces, I’d see a little less respect than I saw before.

I hung my head in shame and let Lyndie escort me from the office.

“What happened in there?” Lyndie asked as we briskly walked towards the nursery. “Did you put on a little show for them or something?”

“I…I didn’t know people would be coming,” I said.

“Did you at least have fun?”

“I think I might have been at one point,” I replied. “Though I find that hard to believe now.”

I glanced around us as we walked. By the grace of some higher power, our path seemed mostly clear of bystanders and would-be witnesses. I either smelled rancid, too floral, or some confusing mix of the two. None of those options made me feel all that good about the trip.

“You’re going to have company in the nursery,” she said. She was still smiling, but it wasn’t quite the same one I had seen when she was teasing me about the scent of my diaper. It was more…apologetic.

“Who’s there? N-not Ava, I hope.” I didn’t want her to see me in this horrid thing.

“No, not Ava.”

“Uh…who else is there?”

“Bradley.”

I expect to see her rolling her eyes, but she manages to keep a straight face when she says his name.

I have one question: “Why?”

She takes a deep breath just as we reach the door to the nursery. Her voice is hushed as she says: “Look, he’s just…hanging out.”

But my question still stands: “Why?”

Another deep breath. “He won’t bother us. Just…ignore him.”

I couldn’t help but smirk. It was strangely refreshing–like, for once, there was a story that I wasn’t the center of. I was very curious about the circumstances that brought Bradley to the nursery–and kept him there, apparently.

Sure enough, there he was. Bradley was just sitting at a chair near Lyndie’s desk in the corner of the nursery. He was, seemingly, just hanging out.

“Uh, hey,” I said to him, waving.

“Hi,” he said, offering an equally meek wave back.

I couldn’t decide which would be more awkward, if Bradley had to be in the room at all while I was in such a state–that we knew each other well and had a good rapport, or that we barely knew each other at all and had said only a handful of words to each other. Because the latter was the reality, and it was plenty awkward.

“I could go,” Bradley said to Lyndie. “Maybe stop by later?”

She shrugged. “If you want to, sure. But you’re welcome to just stay.”

I’d love to ask Lyndie ‘Why?’ one more time, but I bite my tongue. I suspected I wasn’t going to get a satisfactory answer at that point.

“I-I think I’ll go,” Bradley said as his face scrunched up a bit. I suspected that he was finally getting a good whiff of my backside. “I’ll see you later, though?”

“Sure,” said Lyndie, shrugging a little. “You know where to find me.”

As I climbed atop the changing table, Bradley let himself out of the nursery, closing the door behind him.

“Okay, look,” she said, almost as soon as the door was closed. “I’m sure you’ve got some questions. Or comments. Or something.”

“I didn’t think I was gone from the office that long,” I said, laying down on my back. “Are you two, like, best friends now?”

“Lovers, actually,” she said, pulling a pair of latex gloves from a box on her desk. Possibly a sign of how involved she thought this diaper change might be. “We’re planning on eloping this weekend.”

I rolled my eyes. “Or, you could tell me the truth?”

“You don’t buy the two of us as lovers?”

“Not really. He’s too, y’know, soft. And you…”

“And me?” she asked, smirking. “What am I?”

“You’re…I don’t know. Fearless. You don’t give a shit. You’re Lyndie.”

She shrugged. “Am I? Well, I like that description of me better than any I’d come up with myself.”

“We’re our own worst critics.”

“And you,” she said. “Have you gotten around to critiquing your stanky diaper just yet? Because, yikes.”

“Right, right. That’s why I’m here. But, really, is something going on between you and Bradley?”

“Would it make you jealous if something was?” she asked.

“N-no. I don’t think so.”

“He’s not a bad guy, once you get to know him.”

“So there is something?”

She starts untaping my diaper, peeling back one loud strip at a time. I watched her wince a little as she finally opened the diaper up, lifting up the front of my diaper and laying it between my legs.

“I swear,” she said. “It’s like you and Ava are in a competition to see who can make the most disgusting diapers. Two peas in a putrid-smelling pod.”

“Sorry…”

“Do you know who I like? Megan.”

“Megan?” I asked. “Have you talked to her? Do you know anything about her?”

“Nope. Haven’t talked to her. Don’t know a thing about her. Except that she doesn’t need her poopy diapers changed. That’s why I like her.”

“We’re getting off topic,” I said. “You and Bradley?”

She pulled a wipe from the container, looked at the mess laid out before her, and chose to grab a second wipe.

“He’s coming around on the diapers, I think,” she said. “But, of course, Ms. Tamberlin wants nothing to do with the diaper changes, so that’s all me. Honestly, I don’t mind that much, considering that they’re literally just paying me to wipe asses all day. Bradley, though, he’s a lot. I think he likes me.”

“Really? He’s got a little crush? That’s cute.”

“Don’t get too smug of a tone,” Lyndie warned. “Not while you’re lying here in this disgusting diaper.”

“Right…”

“I dunno. Maybe, as wacky as it sounds, maybe there is something to the notion that you and the other assistants are, like, bonding with your bosses when they do things like change your diapers. You’d agree with that, right?”

“I think so.”

“And so if Ms. Tamberlin isn’t doing that for Bradley, but I am…”

“You think he sees you as some sort of…boss? Mommy?”

“Maybe,” she said, laughing. “Something like that. It’s just a theory I’m kicking around.”

“But you don’t hate it.”

“Right.”

We both laugh, though the humor is cut short when I see Lyndie grimace again as she works at cleaning up my disaster.

“I need a bathtub,” she said. “Or maybe a high-powered hose.”

My cheeks got a little warmer as I imagined being positioned on my hands and knees while Lyndie blasted the brown mush from my bottom with a hose. Humiliating, yet slightly exciting–like most things, it seemed.

“Excited about your mother coming up?” she asked.

“Not especially.”

“Do you think I could meet her?” Lyndie asked. I wasn’t entirely sure if she was joking or not–I had seen that teasing smile so many times that I was starting to assume it was just her default expression.

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

“What? Why? I’m a nice girl.”

“Are you? You always seem like the kind of girl a mom would see as a troublemaker.”

“See, a true troublemaker is adept at charming mothers. I’ve never disappointed a mother before. Well, except my own, probably–not that we’re talking about that.”

The damp wipes caressed my skin, wicking away the slowly diminishing amount of filth I had pushed into my diaper. I watched as Lyndie casually moved my locked-up cock so that she could clean around it. It was as if it wasn’t even a cock anymore–now it was just a decoration that was in the way. Her fingers, behind the wipe, snuck between the cheeks of my bottom, summoning the slightest little groan from me. As necessary as it was to be cleaned there, I didn’t think I was ever going to get used to that feeling. Perhaps because it was the only area linked to my stimulation these days.

“It’d probably be better if I didn’t involve anyone from work when I met my mother,” I said.

“Are you sure? I could be, like, the most perfect girlfriend.”

I still wasn’t clear on whether or not she was joking, but the more I thought about it, the less it seemed like the worst idea in the world. If I wanted to prove to my mother that I was doing just dandy without her watchful eye, perhaps it was best done by showing that I had help from a confident and charming young lady. The kind that she probably dreamed I’d find.

That, combined with Ms. Heller’s offer of putting my mother and I up in a fancy restaurant of my choice in the city, was starting to look like a pretty attractive presentation.

I tried to imagine the look on my mother’s face in this scenario. So far as she knew, I was just a student and an intern. Her head would explode if I took her out to the classiest eatery in town, arm-in-arm with a confident young woman that I had never told her about.

“Earth to baby,” Lyndie said, interrupting my daydream.

“Oh…sorry. I was distracted. What did you say?”

“I asked if you were planning on a mess like this while your mother was visiting.”

I was pretty sure that Mommy had already made that joke. Still, it was a fair question.

“N-no,” I said. “No diapers. I can’t risk that.”

“No diapers at all?”

“Absolutely not.”

“But what if…”

“I’m not a literal infant,” I said. “I can use the toilet for a day.”

“When’s the last time you even used a toilet?” she asked. “You do remember how, right? Like, how to flush and all that?”

“I’m sure I’ll be just fine.”

Famous last words, of course. I couldn’t help but wonder if I had just cursed myself to dropping the biggest load of my entire life into my pants while sitting at a table with my mother.

“Seriously, though,” she said. “How about it? I play the role of your girlfriend? Charm the pants right off of her?”

“You were serious about that?”

She shrugged, wrapping up her detailed clean-up on my bottom. The old diaper was being hauled away, along with however many wipes it took to get my skin looking it’s classic pasty-white once more.

“Your skin is looking a little rough,” she said. “I think a life of going potty in your pants is finally catching up with you.”

“It does seem kind of raw lately.”

“I have something for that,” she said, holding up a tube of some sort of cream. There was a baby’s face on the packaging, looking at me with some smug ‘You’re just like me now!’ glare. “If you’re going to be wearing diapers as much as you are, I think we’ll have to start applying this with every change.”

And then my legs were up in the air again as she massaged the contents of the tube into my skin–thoroughly into each cheek of my ass. I didn’t think it was worse than having her scrape my bowel movement off of my skin–but it certainly felt like I had reached a whole new phase of baby. The ointment phase. That was humiliating.

Then again, if I can trust someone to rub baby ointment into my suffering skin, maybe I could trust that person to do just about anything. Including helping me craft a ruse to convince my mother that I was doing better than she could ever imagine.

“Hey,” I said, as she held my legs in the air and rubbed lotion into my bottom.

“Yeah?”

“Are you free for brunch on Saturday?”