Doing Business, Part 47 (Patreon)

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Forty-Seven

Two days until my mother visits.

The morning seemed off-kilter from the start. In my efforts to snooze my phone’s alarm, I had inadvertently turned it off. While I didn’t oversleep too much, I had lost enough time that I was left scrambling through the apartment to get ready. It was a lot harder than it should’ve been to find a pair of matching socks–I ended up with one blue and one black sock. I almost put my pants on backwards. And when I finally did get them on–correctly–I realized that my diaper was already saturated to the point of near-leaking.

I was sure I had, but I couldn’t remember when I had wet myself that much.

Normally, I’d save my morning diaper for Mommy–or Lyndie, if Mommy wasn’t in the mood–but there was no way I was going to make it to work with dry pants if I went out in this diaper. So, setting myself even further behind in schedule, I changed myself before sprinting out the door.

I missed my usual train, though the next came not too long after. I’d show up later than I normally would, but at least I wouldn’t be late. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to procure a seat on this train, and I was left standing in the aisle, holding on to the rail above. This might not have been bad either, except that my ass was now uncomfortably close to a young woman in a seat near me. With every bend in the tracks, I felt myself swaying a little closer to her. I could at least be thankful that my diaper wasn’t so wet–or worse–that she could catch a whiff of it. But my midsection seemed to permanently stink of baby powder and ointment these days. And I still didn’t own pants that completely concealed the thickness of my diapers.

I did my best to avoid eye-contact. I didn’t want to know if she had seen–or smelled–anything strange about me. WIth my luck, though, I’d be a story she told her friends later.

When I finally did arrive in the office, I found that Ms. Heller’s door was shut and locked. I panicked for a moment, fearing that because I had been a few minutes later than usual, she had simply locked me out of her office to teach me a lesson. But I could hear the faintest sound of talking from the other side of the door. It seemed to be a meeting that I just wasn’t privy to. Fine by me.

“You’re late.” Lyndie had snuck behind me and waited for me at my desk.

“I’m not late. Just later than usual.”

“You know who she’s talking to, right?”

I shook my head. “Should I?”

“Thomas Pritchard.”

“Oh, uhm…Anderson.”

She nodded.

“She didn’t tell me about this,” I said. It seemed like the kind of thing that Mommy would normally keep me informed about. Honestly, it hurt a little that I didn’t know about it.

“I think it all came together pretty quickly,” Lyndie said. “Besides, it was probably pretty smart of her not to include you in this. Considering, you know, Pritchard is pissed about you and I getting promoted.”

“What do you think they’re saying?” I asked, almost to myself as I stared at the closed door. There was no way to see into the office. Which was kind of reassuring, actually, since lots of unspeakable things have happened in there.

“She’s probably showing him pictures of you in chastity and diapers.”

“I…” I shook my head, flustered. I knew that wasn’t what they were talking about, but the idea derailed me for a moment. “I doubt that’s it.”

She laughed. “I’ll never get tired of how easily you get all worked up. Is it the chastity? Does it do weird things to your brain when your pee-pee hasn’t been hard in a while?”

“Jesus, quiet down,” I hissed, quickly looking around to see if anyone had noticed. “And…yes. Probably.”

“I don’t see any reason to stress about it,” Lyndie said, shrugging. “We’ve met Anderson–er–Pritchard. He’s not that fearsome of a dude. And he’s taking on the executives of a big company like this? They’ll probably just pay him some money to keep his mouth shut. Or…they’ll kill him.”

“Wh-what? No! They’re not going to kill him.”

She laughed and playfully shrugged. “You don’t think Mommy is capable of killing someone?”

“She just about killed me when she…” I stopped myself, realizing this wasn’t the time or place to talk about the time she fucked my ass in Seattle.

“Jesus,” she said mockingly, repeating what I had just said to her. “Quiet down.”

I looked back at the closed door, feeling my heart hammering in my chest. But Lyndie was probably right–Pritchard was just some ‘dude.’ What chance did he stand against a corporation like this? Against wealth? Against, assumedly, blood-hungry vampires?

“I’m going to go get something for breakfast,” Lyndie said. “You want to come with?”

“Thanks, but…I think I’ll pass.”

I didn’t want to say it aloud, but I felt like I needed to be there. Whatever the conversation was about, or however it was going, I knew that Mommy wouldn’t have been happy having it. I wanted to be there when she was done. Her loyal puppy. Or, punching bag, if needed.

“Suit yourself,” she said, smiling. She probably saw right through me. “But please let me know if she ends up throwing Pritchard out the door, on his ass.”

“I’ll send you photos if that happens.”

“You’re the best, Clarky.”

Left to my own devices, there wasn’t much more I could do except wait. Every minute or so, I’d turn my head and take a look at her office door. Still closed. I just wanted to know what was happening in there.

It occurred to me that what I really wanted was a distraction from thinking about my mother. Getting wrapped up in the Pritchard-situation was working just fine, too. Between my off-kilter morning, and the closed door, I had barely even thought about my mother since the night before.

At last, the door opened, and he had emerged. He looked different to me. I don’t think he had ever changed, it was just the way I viewed him that had changed. I thought about the day he gave me the award to hang on the wall–the one that would lead me to meeting Ms. Heller for the first time. He seemed so sure of himself. He seemed important. But seeing him now, I was reminded that he wasn’t really much of anything. He looked…sniveling. Rat-like.

“You’ll consider what we’ve talked about and come back to me with an answer, yes?” Mommy asked. She was in the doorway, but hadn’t stepped out of the office.

“You’ll hear from me soon,” Pritchard said to her. He looked like he was trying to put on a brave face. He looked scared.

“Ah, Clark,” Mommy said to me as Pritchard walked away. “Late morning?”

“I-I wasn’t late.”

She smiled–that teasing smile I knew better than to trust on most days. “Come. Step into my office.”

It was as if I had no agency of my own. She said the words and invisible puppet-strings suddenly lifted my limbs for me, making me walk into the office without even thinking about it.

“Good morning, Mommy,” I said as she closed the door behind me. Suddenly, as if needing the release, my mouth started spewing information: “I accidentally turned off my alarm this morning, and then I almost walked out of the house with a diaper that was way too soaked. And then I was on the train and my butt was in this girl’s face and…”

My voice trailed off as I realized that we weren’t the only people in the room. The woman didn’t look much older than me or Lyndie, and I could see her lips were already curled into a knowing grin.

“Clark, I’d like you to meet Desiree Watkins. She’s on the company’s legal team.”

“Oh, uhm…nice to meet you,” I said, hand extended towards her as I felt my face turn a vibrant red.

“Likewise,” Desiree said, her hand reaching up and shaking mine. “And no need to worry, your Mommy has filled me in on all your little adventures thus far.”

It shouldn’t have surprised me, but it just about knocked the wind out of me. How many more people would be revealed as being a part of this world? Or at least knowing about it? Who else knew about my ‘little adventures?’

“Despite my urging, Desiree has never partook in taking on an assistant of her own. Though I think we both know she could use one.”

“Honestly,” Desiree said, “I’d probably just make them do all my paperwork for me.”

“What’s the fun in that?” asked Mommy. “You want an assistant who can get you off.”

Desiree laughed. “Having someone do my paperwork? That’d get me off plenty, don’t you worry.”

“One of these days I’m going to lend you my Clarky,” Mommy said. “And you’ll have to give him a good test drive and let me know what you think after.”

“Of course,” Desiree said. “Send him over sometime.”

I didn’t really want to change the subject, but I wasn’t sure I could take much more of this teasing. “So that was Thomas Pritchard, then?”

I knew who he was. The question sounded silly coming out of my mouth, though Mommy didn’t even bat an eye.

“That’s him,” Mommy said, nodding. “The villainous little wretch.”

“What does he want?”

Mommy shrugged. “Money, more than anything. He thinks he knows things and that knowing things entitles him to compensation. Or else he runs off and tells everyone all sorts of nasty secrets.”

“What are you going to do?” I asked.

“In exchange for his silence and a rather thorough non-disclosure agreement, he’ll be compensated and sent on his way,” Desiree said.

“For his sake,” Mommy said, “I hope he doesn’t include us on his resume when he looks for a new job.”

“Did he actually…know anything? Because I just thought he was mad that he didn’t get a promotion.”

Desiree and Mommy shared a brief glance before looking back at me.

“For a while, that’s what we thought too,” Mommy said. “But it appears he’s learned a few things. A few specific details, in fact.”

“What sort of details?”

“The word ‘diapers’ came up in conversation today,” Desiree said. “Among other things.”

“H-how does he know about that?”

“We don’t know,” Mommy said. “But, given some of the details he’s mentioned, I think someone is talking to him.”

“But who?”

“I would be surprised if it was anyone on the executive team,” Mommy said. “While I have no doubt that Yang would turn his back on us for his own benefit, I can’t imagine why he–or any other leader–would choose to work with that sniveling little worm.”

Sniveling! That’s what I said!

“More than likely,” Desiree said, “it’s one of the assistants. They’d have the most to gain.”

I sighed, already unhappy with the direction this conversation was going. “I don’t think one of us would do something like that.”

“We’d like to think that was true too,” Mommy said, her voice more serious now. “But it certainly sounds like there’s someone we can’t trust anymore.”

“I could talk to them,” I said. “Ava, Bradley. Even Megan. Maybe they’d be honest with me.”

“You’re a good boy,” Mommy cooed, immediately restoring my cheeks to their blushing status. “But I think you already know too much about this. I’m going to call a meeting of the leadership team and we’ll discuss our options with Desiree.

I sighed, but still nodded. Honestly, it was probably for the best. I was barely an effective assistant–I doubted I was all that good of a detective.

“We’ll schedule a meeting for later,” Mommy said to Desiree. “In the meantime, there are some other pressing matters to turn our attention to.”

What could be more pressing than this?

“Baby, could you show me your diaper? We need to see if it’s time for a change or not.”

“B-but…” I glanced towards Desiree, catching the amused grin I was hoping not to see.

“Nothing she hasn’t seen before, I can assure you,” Mommy said. “So let’s go. You know what to do.”

There was little point in hemming or hawing anymore. Mommy would always get what Mommy wanted. Just as she had when she summoned me to her office, I felt the strings being pulled again. Suddenly, I was unbuckling my belt and lowering my pants.

“That is a disappointingly clean diaper,” Mommy said.

“But he looks awfully cute in it,” Desiree cooed.

“Right?” Mommy asked. “I swear, he looks even better in a diaper.”

“It’s the baby-face,” Desiree said, nodding. “Once you know he’s wearing a diaper, it’s like you can’t imagine him not wearing a diaper.”

“Exactly.”

My face reached an entirely new level of red.

“Alright, pull your pants back up, Baby. I sent you an email this morning with some things I need done today, so why don’t you waddle back to your desk and get started on them, hm? And next time you come into my office, I’d like for that diaper to be a little dirtier. Understood?”

“Y-yes.”

Her eyebrows lifted, as if waiting for me to say something more specific.

“Yes, Mommy.”

“Very good. Off you go, then.”

They continued talking as I walked out the door, already conversing as I wasn’t there. I couldn’t make out all the words, though I thought I heard Deisree say ‘cute baby.’ That was probably all I needed to hear.

At my desk, I checked Mommy’s email, finding myself a little disappointed by how mundane the tasks were. Filing. Sending emails. Making a phone call. Ordering her lunch. I’d get to all of those things immediately, but there were other things on my mind that I needed a moment to think about.

Was there a traitor among the assistants? And was ‘traitor’ too dramatic a description?

No, it felt right. Whoever it was, they were a traitor.

I grabbed a piece of scrap paper from my desk and started scribbling down some names.

Ava? No, impossible. She was so sweet. She was my friend. But… She did say that she had something to tell me the other day, and we still hadn’t connected so that she could tell me what it was. Was it possible that this was her secret? Had she somehow been coerced into providing information to Pritchard?

Or maybe it was Bradley. I still didn’t know him very well. He and Lyndie seemed to have been spending more time together as of late, though. And what if he had been trying to get closer to Lyndie so he had more information to feed Pritchard?

Or Megan. Who I knew absolutely nothing about. So far as I knew, she wasn’t a diaper-wearer. She didn’t talk to any of the other assistants. She seemed to be pretty isolated in general. On one hand, I could see it being easy for her to dish on everyone else when she wasn’t that close to us. On the other, did she really know all that much to share with Pritchard?

What about…Lyndie? Arguably, she knew the most of any of us. But, no. No way. Lyndie was more my friend and ally than Ava was. I trusted her.

You’re not a detective. Let it go.

I sighed and folded the piece of paper in half before slipping it in my pocket. Something to think about later, maybe.

The day marched forward, as it does, and I managed to cross everything off of Mommy’s list. In fact, by the time I was ready to inform her that I had done so, I even had a sopping wet diaper to show her–the requirement for returning to her office.

My steps past the threshold were more cautious this time, as I looked to make sure that there were no strangers or visitors sitting in Mommy’s office. For once, I’d have loved not to humiliate myself just because I failed to be more observant. The coast was clear.

“Such a good boy, you are,” she cooed, stroking my wet diaper with her hand. “You know, I really wish I could spend some time playing with you. Seattle kind of spoiled us, huh? We don’t get the same time for interaction while we’re here at the office.”

“No, not really.”

“Do you have plans for tomorrow night?” she asked.

“Other than stressing out about my mother arriving the day after? Not really…”

“Would you like to come over for dinner? Nothing fancy. Nothing to stress about. Just you and me. Some wine. Some…objects being pushed into your bottom?”

I momentarily forgot how to speak. And think. I took a deep breath as I rebooted.

“Th-that sounds very nice, Mommy. I’d like that.”

“Thought so. Well, then. I’ve got lots to do. And you should get your soggy caboose re-pampered. Why don’t you head on over to the nursery and see what Lyndie can do for you.”

“Yes, Mommy.”

A week ago, the very thought of going to Mommy’s house after work would’ve probably sent me into a stressful spiral I’d never recover from. But a lot had happened in the last week. Seattle happened in the last week. And now, with potential office moles and the pending visit from my mother, going to Mommy’s house sounded absolutely perfect.

I was floating down the hallways towards the nursery, high on the thought of what Mommy’s home would be like.

And then I reached the nursery door. Locked.

Not completely unheard of–maybe she was in there with someone? Ava? Bradley?

“Hello Clark,” Lyndie said, opening the door–but just a crack. “Can I help you?”

“Well…I’m sure you can imagine why I’m here.”

She rolled her eyes. “How bad is it?”

“I mean…pretty wet.”

“But are you leaking?”

“No.”

“Stinky?”

“I… No, I don’t believe so.”

“Do you think you could come back in, like, an hour?” she asked.

“Are you in there with someone?”

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, sounding a little flustered. “I’m sorry, I wish I could let you in right now, but I’m a little tied up with something else. Just come back later. I’ll take care of you.”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.”

“Thank you, Clark. And, uhm, one more thing?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t tell anyone about this.”

“About what?”

“Exactly,” she said. “Good boy.” The door closed.

As I shuffled back to my desk–the thickness of the wet diaper not allowing for normal strides–I tried to imagine what was going on in the nursery that she didn’t want to tell me–or anyone else–about.

Bradley. It had to be. She had said, herself, that she had been developing some sort of ‘mommy’ dynamic with him recently. And he had been in the nursery yesterday when I came by–just hanging out. I smirked when I thought of this–Lyndie trying to hide the naughty fun she had been having with little baby Bradley.

I almost didn’t mind tromping back and forth through the office in a wet diaper if that was the case. Good for her. Good for him.

But wait…

Halfway to my desk, Bradley scurrying by, a pile of binders carefully balanced in his arms. Bradley wasn’t in Lyndie’s office, and it didn’t look like he had been, either.

Who else would be in the nursery that she wouldn’t want me to know about?

I thought about the slip of paper in my pocket–the list of ‘suspects’ for the potential mole.

No. No way. But if anyone else had been in the nursery, then I knew she would’ve told me. Hell, she’d have even told me if it was Bradley.

I pivoted on my heel and went back to the nursery. I didn’t try the door again. Instead I just waited. And waited.

And then, when the door finally opened–almost an hour later–my worst fear had been confirmed.

Thomas Pritchard was walking out of the nursery. A smug smile on his face.

The whole day had been off from the start.