(first part) Brenda left very early for work the following morning. When she held up her keycard to the sensor, the lock on the front door clicked open, allowing her entry into the empty office building. She stepped out of the elevator on the 49th floor, savoring the lonesome echo of her high heels on the marble floor as she strode by the vacant reception desk and into Brad’s private office. Her MacBook was on his desk, just as she’d thought. And after setting his down, she claimed hers and placed it inside her tote bag before walking out of his office.
Around ten o’clock that morning, Brenda was sorting through a small stack of folders on her desk cubicle when the telephone rang.
“B?” Brad’s voice broke through from the other end of the line. “My office in five,” he said briefly before hanging up.
Brenda stood up and smoothed the mild crease on her grey pencil skirt. When she reached the door to Brad’s private office, she knocked three times against the frosted glass door.
“Come on in, whoever it is,” answered Brad from the other side.
“Morning, sir,” Brenda said as she entered.
“Morning.” Brad looked up from his computer monitor. “Brenda, did you see the texts I sent you last night? Did you sort those files as I asked you to?”
“No, I’m afraid not,” Brenda started, pulling her phone out from her pocket, “I’d rather we discuss that promotion I’m due for.”
Brad frowned. “Well, maybe if you’d sort those files as I asked—”
“Hey, is that you, sir?” Brenda said, cutting him off. She showed him one of the raunchy pictures she’d downloaded from his MacBook the night before—where he was suckling on a pacifier with his hands down inside his bulgy diapers. “It’s you, isn’t it?”
For a moment, all the color seemed to bleed from his face. He blinked, swallowed hard, and blinked again. Brenda knew she had him right where she wanted. Now, it was time to double down.
“Wh-where did you get that?” He stammered.
“Doesn’t matter,” Brenda waved dismissively and approached his side of the desk. “What I really wanna know is, do you wear diapers to work daily? I’ve had my suspicions, but….”
Brad said nothing. He was sweating profusely now despite the chill of the AC, the wet patch under his arms spreading wider almost by the second.
Brenda feigned a dramatic gasp. “You do, don’t you?”
“Hey, B,” he said, his tone pathetically soliciting. “We can—we can talk about this, and we can talk about that promotion, too, if you want.”
“Oh, I know I’ll get it now, no problem,” said Brenda as she leaned against his desk and crossed her arms. “Take off your pants for me.”
“What?” His voice quivered.
“Take off your pants for me; I wanna see your cute little diapers.”
“Okay—okay,” he said. “No one has to know, right?”
Brenda shrugged. “Tik-tok.”
Brad stood up slowly. He was reaching for his belt buckle when Brenda got to it first. “Here, let me,” she insisted, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she pulled down the zipper and undid his belt buckle to reveal a pair of cream-colored diapers underneath. And then, without warning, she reached in to grab firmly at his crotch, causing Brad to jerk suddenly.
“There’s a good boy,” she purred against his earlobe, her fingers gently massaging his hardening member through the thick layer of fabric. By the time she let go of him and made for the door, giggling all the while, Brad had become stiff as a lamppost. What’s going to happen now? Click here to find out!
Auntie Brenda
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