A Formal Affair (Patreon)

Charlotte saw the mansion shimmering in the distance as the door to the town car was opened by one of Mr. White's attendants. Mr. White was there to grab her hand and lead her up the spiraling driveway to the fair gates.

It was a glamorous event. Their town car had parked in a line of others as people of obvious means who were dressed to the nines exited their respective vehicles and walked up the hill to the large ornate doors. Mr. White, who Charlotte followed, wore a fine Italian tuxedo. Charlotte was dressed to impress too in an outfit hand-selected by Mr. White's fashion advisors. She wore a soft pink mini dress with floral embroidery running down the lace skirt and layers of tulle so that it puffed out far. It was the nicest piece of clothing Charlotte had ever worn. It was trimmed just short enough so that all attendants could see the pièce de résistance - the true fashion statement of the whole piece. Significantly poking out from under her dress was a thick white diaper.

Charlotte hadn't come from much money; in fact, if the diaper hadn't made it obvious, she wasn't attending this event as a high member of society. She was only here due to an unfortunate series of events.

Two years ago, Charlotte was a tomboy with a deadbeat boyfriend. The two of them didn't have any aspirations besides sitting in their studio apartment and getting high. It was around this time that the couple found themselves unable to pay off their drug debt.

That's when one day Mr. White knocked on the door asking to "collect."

"We don't have the money," Charlotte had said.

"Oh, I know," Mr. White had responded. "I'm not collecting money today."

It was at this moment that Mr. White grabbed Charlotte and took her away, explaining that Charlotte's shithead boyfriend had sold her to pay off his debt. And he intended to make a large profit off of her.

All of that lead up to this event: a diaper slave auction. Charlotte scoffed at the idea two years ago. What kind of sick, perverted, rich weirdos would want to traffic people in diapers? It was a bizarre underground world that she had been quickly introduced to over the past two years via rigorous training. A diaper girl was meant to be obedient, cute, silent, sexy, mindless, and eager - all qualities that Charlotte spat at the idea of becoming. But it didn't take long for Mr. White to break her from an independent woman to a good little girl via corporal punishment.

Mr. White broke Charlotte of her flashback by whispering commands, "Don't forget: smile and wave any and all adults we pass."

Charlotte did as instructed as they walked past security motioning them where to go. She waved the princess wave as she had practiced for years - a slightly curved open palm with small, slow twists of the wrist. Any deviation from her training would lower her value as an auction item. Her smile beamed so wide that any of the adults would see it even past the large pink pacifier blocking her lips.

Mr. White continued to escort her to where security had directed them, around the large mansion to a back door. This lead down a long corridor to a secluded room in the back of the mansion where Mr. White joined a line of trainers and their diapered slaves.

All the trainers were wearing the fancy, flowing gowns or full suits which contrasted with the slaves' outfits which were designed to not cover much and expose their diapers. Charlotte figured there were about 40 adult babies in the room up for auction. Of that total, about thirty-five were women. Most wore similar babydoll dresses to Charlotte so that the auctioneers would see their diapers, but a handful wore nothing but a diaper so that their breasts were completely on display. "Classless," Mr. White had said of the strategy when choosing Charlotte's auction night outfit. "But effective. Seeing the breasts does often drive up the price. But with Charlotte's... let's say, fruitless display in that department, we're better off stuffing her dress."

There was a market for the men, but it was very different. The men were large and buff so they mostly wore no outfits to highlight that even these machismos had been subdued into diapers. One of the less buff men wore a sweater vest over a button down shirt with an adorable little bowtie, covering his chest but leaving his diapered bottom exposed. One man wore no shirt but was directed around by his trainer using a leash and collar. Charlotte suddenly felt like a competitor at the Westminster Dog Show.

Once everyone arrived, the line began moving as one pair of trainer and diaper slave would be escorted into another room to be judged by the auctioneers. Minutes passed and Charlotte and Mr. White approached the front of the line. Charlotte peeked at the boy in the sweater vest, watching him squat slightly as he was second in line. She recognized his face immediately and, as his older female trainer realized what he was doing, she started holding the taller, stronger man by the ear and swatting his behind.

Mr. White, observing as well, reminded Charlotte, "No using your diaper until we're in the room."

Oh, Charlotte wouldn't make that mistake. Apparently, the judges loved watching an adult use their diaper in the valuation. Any already used diaper would not generate as much excitement. Charlotte had been without food for thirty-six hours, only being fed breastmilk to ensure she would wet her diaper in front of the auctioneers. Wet diapers were more attractive than soiled diapers - at least for the ladies, Mr. White had explained. So even though, her bladder was about to burst, she held it with all her strength. She could let it out soon anyway.

Finally, Mr. White and Charlotte were lead into the room where six judges sat at a panel at the far side of the room. They were all older gentlemen with silver hair in ivory suits. The one, who had lead Mr. White and Charlotte in, began his inspection.

"Crawling position," the man instructed. Charlotte got down on all fours just like she had been trained, facing the right side of the room so that the panel of judges could see her side profile but also her accentuated padded rear sticking out from under her dress. The judges on the panel furiously began scribbling notes as Charlotte stretched her butt so it was raised prominently in the air.

The sitting position was next. Charlotte leaned back and plopped down on her diapered bum before turning around to face the judges so that - as you'd expect - her diapered crotch was fully visible to the judges. Her legs were stretched as far as she could to either side so that they didn't block her diaper and she rested her hands on her knees.

Last was the changing position. Upon instruction, Charlotte leaned back so that she was laying on the floor, but she raised her legs high in the air just like she had during so many diaper changes. She had been conditioned so well that this was the moment her bladder couldn't take it anymore and it unleashed fully in her diaper, completely on display for the judges. Charlotte was staring at the ceiling, but she could hear excited murmuring and intense note-scribbling from the judges.

With that portion of the valuation done, Charlotte slowly stood up - weighed down by her heavily soaked diaper. Mr. White unzipped her pink dress before she stepped out of it, leaving her completely naked save for the wet Pampers around her waist. The judge whipped out a long measuring tape, which he began to wrap around Charlotte's bust, the first and most important measurement. The illusion of the packed bust of her dress had been removed and Charlotte cringed as the judge announced her small tit size to the panel, "30B!"

The measurements continued, more in Charlotte's favor with each one. At only 5'2, Charlotte was the perfect petite diaper doll and her large butt would have achieved high marks even without the full diaper that added an inch or two to her final measure.

Now was the last part of the judging - the diaper inspection. The judge unceremoniously and without warning tugged on the front waistband of Charlotte's diaper and looked inside. "Very wet and completely hairless," the judge communicated to the panel taking notes. Taking his other pointer finger, he slipped it inside the diaper and up her pussy. Charlotte jumped. They had practiced for everything up to and past this point, but all the preparation in the world could make it so Charlotte had no reaction to being digitally entered so abruptly. "Small and tight," the judge declared nonchalantly before pulling his finger back out and releasing his hold on her diaper's waistband. Charlotte let out a small gasp as he did so and received a small side eye from Mr. White, who otherwise stood unmoving the whole time.

Mr. White zipped Charlotte back into her dress while the judges deliberated. Finally, a consensus : "The starting bid will be 20 million dollars."

Mr. White maintained his composure while nodding and shaking hands with each of the gentlemen, but Charlotte knew he was giddy with joy. A good diaper girl could expect to have a starting bid of 10 million and maybe be sold with a final bid of 15 million. Starting at 20 mil meant a good payday for Mr. White, paying her boyfriend's drug debt a thousand times over.

As Mr. White escorted her out of the room, the feeling was bittersweet. She had done a good job, but she wouldn't see a cent of the price she was valued at. All her hard work and no reward besides having her debt paid off. The best-case scenario would be to be sold to a kind, rich gentleman with a big cock who would be happy to change her diapers and treat her to a lavish princess lifestyle. Then, she would hopefully age out after four or five years if she was really lucky free to live a normal undiapered life - if she could regain her potty training. There was a lot of "if's."

Charlotte was jolted out of her thoughts as the auctioneer announced, "Sold for $35 million!". She hadn't realized that she had been lead to the backstage area, let alone that she was about to be auctioned off. But, before she knew it, she was on the auction block in front of a large gala of well-dressed ladies and gentlemen sat in front of large round tables while they ate caviar and drank champagne. Charlotte gripped Mr. White's hand tight and he was the last person she expected to turn to for comfort.

One of the muscular diaper bulls was being lead offstage by the winning bidder, an elderly white-haired woman in a sparkling, black gown and with a prominent pearl necklace around her neck. The diapered man had tears in his eyes, probably as he envisioned his future life of shitting in diapers and eating wrinkly, old carpet against his will.

"Item #29 - Charlotte," the auctioneer introduced her. "Former grocery store clerk. Adult diapergirl of two years. Proficient in manners and household chores. 30B bust. Vagina is approximately three inches deep unaroused. Can fit a penis of up to 10 inches in her mouth. Swallows, doesn't spit. Starting bid is $20 million. Do I hear anyone for $20 million?"

Hearing her own sexual qualities listed like a football player's season stats in front of all these people made Charlotte tear up a little bit. It had all hit her at once like a freight train. She was a toy for these men (or women) to buy and use. Her humanity had been completely ripped away over the past two years and this was only the beginning.

Again, Charlotte's thoughts were interrupted as a collection of paddles flew into the air. She scanned the room, but it was too many to even count in a moment. "25 million?" the auctioneer asked. A few paddles went down; Charlotte could now count about six, maybe seven? "$30 million?" the auctioneer continued.

"$50 million!" one of the bidders called out. Charlotte eyed him towards the back of the first floor. The man held up paddle #84. He had a strong jawline that Charlotte could recognize from even so far away and a beautiful, dark beard that ran along it. Charlotte thought how it wouldn't be so bad being won by tall, dark, and handsome.

"Ok, $50 million," the auctioneer recognized. "Do I hear $60 million? Anyone, $60 million? Going once..."

Another paddle raised weakly in the air. This one was far closer - front row. It was paddle #3 and it was shaking in the air as a much older gentleman struggled to hold it up. He was bald, wrinkled, and slumped down in his seat as though sitting was even much too hard for him. He smiled with a toothless smile that revolted Charlotte. She couldn't possibly be a sex slave to this man - even for the short while he had left on this Earth. She turned back to #84, hoping her pleading eyes could be spotted in the back of the large room.

"$60 million," the auctioneer announced. "Do I hear $70 million?"

#84 must have sensed her begging because his paddle flung back up into the air. Charlotte was sweating as the announcer counted down once more. "Going once... going twice..."

"$100 million!" #3 shouted with all his might. "Let's get this over with already!"

Charlotte looked frantically back to #84. She let out an audible sob as she watched him shrug and put his paddle down.

"Going once! Going twice! Sold to the gentleman with paddle #3 for $100 million!"

Tears streamed down Charlotte's face as she watched the elder man practically lick his lips with excitement. The auctioneer went to lead Charlotte to her new life, but she turned with wide eyes to Mr. White gripping his hand even tighter, petitioning him for some salvation from her ever-approaching nightmare. All he responded with was, "Tough luck, kid. I'll send a care package with some dollies and fresh diapers."

"No..." she muttered. "NO!" She was ripped away from Mr. White who walked offstage left as his work was done as she exited offstage right where her work was only just beginning.

She was introduced to a coven of two other diaper girls who were waiting backstage in their own wet diapers. "You three are going with Mr. Schmitt," a representative for #3, who Charlotte surmised was Mr. Schmitt, said. "Pacifiers remain in and diapers remain on unless said otherwise by Mr. Schmitt."

Charlotte choked back her tears as the other two cried throughout the instructions. Did she now belong to an old perverted man? Yes. Would she be stuck sitting in her own messes for the next couple of years? Yes. Would she be forced to suck his limp, broken cock any moment she wasn't sucking on a binky? Almost definitely yes.

But, just two years ago, she was a worthless, unfulfilled stoner with a jackass good-for-nothing boyfriend who was willing to trade her for a few lines of coke. Today, she was valued at $100 million and was heading to live in a mansion where she'd be pampered. Maybe, being a diapered housemaid bimbo wouldn't be so bad. In fact, it was the only thing she had been trained to do.