Return to the Office

Milly looked down at the underwear in her hands. So small, surely it wouldn’t fit her. It was hers, she’d worn it regularly but not for weeks, something else covering her private parts, much larger, positively bulky. Functional.

But she had to go into the office today, a rare treat from endless days sat in her study, visible to her colleagues only on camera, carefully positioning to never show below her shoulders. So they hadn’t seen her initial exploration of working in diapers, the more frequent use or the recent weeks of never wearing anything else.

Even this morning she hadn’t used the toilet, waking an hour before her alarm and enjoying the lazy warmth of flooding her night time protection. But now she was up, had showered, needed to dress like an adult and go to work.

Carefully sliding a foot through the waistband of the flimsy underwear in her hands Milly guided it back out through the appropriate leg opening, then stood on it and repeated the process with her other foot. She blushed slightly, embarrassed by her surprise at how easy that had been, and pulled the knickers up from her knees, worrying that she’d never fit in them, her bottom far too big for this tiny garment.

The lace at the back did its job, stretched, settled comfortably covering her bottom, another source of surprise and delight. Milly celebrated internally, she really wasn’t that fat, still fit in the same size underwear. Looking down she saw the flat panel in front, opaque in design to modestly hide the soft hair beneath. She’d shaved that area, hadn’t had hair there for over a month, easier cleaning and a more infantile look to go with her diapers. It made a different, the panel taut across her skin, and Milly wondered if she’d dare wear a bikini to the beach now.

Just a few moments had switched Milly from her usual baby self into a confident young woman, visually supported as she finished getting dressed, a matching bra, tights and a smart dress, fashionable but demure, ideal for the office.

The office appreciated it too, admiring glances from the men, hugs from her friends. They exchanged compliments and went for coffee. Milly had missed this, the private conversations, gossip and bitchy feedback about other employees. It couldn’t last though; Milly made her excuses, picked up her laptop from her desk and went to the meeting that had drawn her to the office.

Two hours of meeting didn’t need a break, everybody caught in the conversation, making decisions and agreeing plans. Milly’s role was supporting, providing information where needed, letting others make the commitments but she concentrated hard, knowing this was a chance to make an impression, boost her career.

Maybe that’s why she didn’t think when her bladder twinged, told her breakfast coffee was already processed, more recent drinks starting to join it. Milly did what she’d done for weeks, no longer even registered doing, and told her bladder to go ahead, seek comfort by emptying itself.

Today there was no thick thirsty padding to absorb the consequences. There wasn’t a waterproof shield to protect her clothes, or the chair. There was just the shock on her face, the alarm from her colleagues, the expressions of sympathy and the tears as she ran from the office. The people in the meeting could have admired the speed she managed in her heels but they didn’t register that, could only focus on the dark teardrop shaped dampness on light grey of her dress, expanding even as she fled.

Her manager called, told her not to talk about it, said it was fine, accidents happen, take the rest of the week off. She tried to apologise but he cut her off, said that she was a good worker and he only wanted her to recover, that it must have been traumatic and that the company would help her when she was ready.

Milly wondered why he hadn’t asked her why but was glad she hadn’t had to explain. Although he probably couldn’t ask why, it would be an invasion of privacy, unprofessional probing into a medical issue.

HR on the other hand were obliged to invade her privacy. They called her later that week, probing questions masked by a veneer of concern, making sure the company wouldn’t be liable if the cause was work related, stress, an accident causing medical issues.

A couple of days to recover had allowed Milly the time to think of her excuses, how to frame them, avoid censure and keep HR on her side. Explanations of medical issues gradually worsening, something she’d been consulting her GP about, the first issues before she’d even started this job so no, of course it wasn’t them.

The woman on the video conference had smiled at that, briefly, before remembering she was meant to be pretending to support Milly. “Does that mean you’re wearing a diaper now?” she asked, then put her hand to her mouth and followed her own question with, “Oh! No, don’t answer that. Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

Milly’s blush answered it anyway.

The topic changed, Milly’s return to work, her usual working from home both acceptable and also a permanent option if it would help with her… medical challenges. Milly wasn’t sure about that, whether it would inhibit her career, suggested they explore that after she’d had the chance to think it through, chat with her manager. She had no meetings in the office planned anyway, but did want that option.

The lady from HR was understanding, agreed with the approach then, “…and of course, if you do come into the office then absolutely wear your diapers. I’ll make sure that by then we have a safe place for you to change, and I’ll personally intervene if anybody gives you grief about it.”

Milly looked into the camera in shock. She’d just said it was a medical need, and now… now she’d have to keep up that lie.

They finished the call and Milly went to find a change. As she fastened the new clean diaper on she thought about what had just happened. Diapers at home, diapers while working from home, and now… now she’d have to wear diapers to the office!

With a smile Milly went to her bedroom, opened her underwear draw. Dainty, delicate, so tiny compared to her normal padding and… she scooped it all out, carried it downstairs and went outside to her bin. Time to finally end the pretence, stop being the mature adult. Milly now had HR blessing to fully embrace her new life.


nice story, I enjoy your writing, you manage to get so much in a short space.

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