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Monday

By: L.B. (little boy) Middleman

My Monday morning started just like most Mondays had started for the past several years, and my day was expected to be just another day at the office. I could not have known how my life would change, and it is only now, weeks later that I am allowed to describe the events.

I had finished my shower, finished my breakfast and gathered up my clean shirts, socks, suits and ties for the week of work that lie ahead. In the city I rented a small efficiency flat to avoid the punishing commute from my distant country home each day. Just before leaving for the two hour drive (on a good day with no traffic problems) from home to my inner city job, I removed an adult diaper from my brief case, lowered my trousers and underwear, lay on the carpet and carefully completed the diapering of my middle aged bottom.

Since my youth, I had always liked the feeling of a diaper. It wasn't a particularly sexual attraction, but it did give me occasional pleasure and a heightened sense of arousal being properly ensconced. The long drive to my current job simply required the use of protection. Traffic would often stop completely for long periods of time along the urban expressway. No exits were available, nor were there any rest areas with facilities.

Most trips were uneventful, and the diaper was promptly removed when I arrived in my private office where I worked as a middle manager. I would try to arrive slightly before the receptionist so she wouldn't recognize the bulge in my slacks or hear the rustle of the plastic coating on the disposable diaper. This was my Monday morning ritual.

Occasionally I would be very late or my arrival would be met with an important meeting or the need to be in an impromptu discussion. Diapered and in need of relief, I would need to balance the length of the meeting with my bladder control. It was impossible to use the restroom without removing the diaper. And, after the building opened, the restroom was always busy. Often, I would try to retire to my office and lock the door at any chance. Sometimes the pressure became unbearable and the chance to escape did not present itself. I would quietly and carefully relieve myself into my diaper; hoping it would not leak onto my suit pants.

This Monday would prove to be different, and my life would be forever changed.

The traffic was light and I arrived at my office a few minutes before the office opened. One of my subordinates, Carol, had a smaller office just next to mine. Carol was twenty years younger than I, and was unmarried. She had, just one year before, adopted an infant son from Guatemala. Carol was attractive and shapely, but our relationship was purely business. This morning, Carol met me as I arrived at my office door, carrying a small shopping bag. She had an unusual facial expression and walked into my office immediately behind me, closing the door and pushing the lock button in the door handle. It was not unusual for her to enter my office and close the door, but locking it seemed odd at that moment.

Before I could get myself situated, she sternly instructed me to come beside her at the front of my large desk. I complied. She reached into her shopping bag and removed a small envelope of photographs. I expected pictures of her son, but was horrified to see a number of photographs of me in my office alone, removing my diaper. And worse, she had several photographs of me at my computer visiting a pornographic website. The images were clear and undeniable. Since viewing pornography was a dischargeable event, with zero tolerance, by my employer, I became pale and nervous and wondered what her motive was. My uncertainty about the purpose of showing me these pictures became immediately clear.

I asked her where she got the photographs, and she replied;

"It doesn't matter where I got them, it matters what happens next as to what I do with them. And, in case you get any ideas, I have already copied them into an email addressed to your boss, the division VP, and co-workers. The message is set up with a delayed sending command. If I don't revise the date every few days, the email message goes out automatically."

"So what do you want from me?" I replied, figuring this was an extortion attempt in the making.

Carol made a fist with her left hand and brought it up hard striking my groin. Even with the padding of the disposable diaper the impact caused great pain in my testicles. As I began to protest, she shoved a rubber ball gag into my mouth, even before I could raise my hand in defense.

Carol immediately and sternly warned me to not move. In my confused state of mind and groin pain, I complied.

Carol warned;

"Don't play games with me little boy. When I first noticed that you arrived Monday mornings wearing a diaper, I thought it was just your middle age and health problems. Only after I hid the nanny camera in your office did it become clear to me that you had a diaper fetish." She said with a smirk.

"Have you ever wet your diaper?" Carol asked.

I couldn't talk because of the gag. Carol used her fist to strike my groin again. My pain doubled.

"When I ask you a question that requires a yes or no, you can nod your head, you don't need to speak. Again, have you ever wet your diaper?" Carol asked with far more sternness in her voice.

I nodded yes.

Carol replied: "Then you don't have just a diaper fetish, you are an adult baby. And, I am going to help you!"

I didn't know what to think. But it really didn't matter anyway. Carol ordered me to turn around and put my hands high on the wall in front of my desk with my feet together. She took the strap on the ball gag, which had been dangling at my shoulders after being shoved into my mouth, and fastened it to the back of my head.

Carol then reached in front of me and unfastened my belt, lowering my dress slacks to my shoes. She admired my disposable diaper and remarked that it looked just like her son's; only bigger. I could not see her movements with my face to the wall, and I did not dare to move, as she was clearly capable of inflicting pain. I could hear the rustling of co-workers arriving outside my office. For a split second I thought of making a break for the door, but my mouth was gagged and my pants were around my ankles and I was wearing a diaper.

Carol lifted each of my legs from my pants and placed my slacks on my desk chair.

Carol ordered me to spread my legs, which I did without hesitation. She reached into the front of my diaper and declared: "Well, little boy, it appears that you're still dry. No need to change a dry diaper." Carol then removed something from her bag. She reached up and grabbed my left hand and pulled it down in front of me instructing me to hold onto the object she had passed in front of my body. I could not identify the thing by the feel, but it was flat and metallic, like a woven wire. Carol then grabbed the bottom of the object and pulled it between my legs, bringing it tight to my diapered crotch. She took the right side of the object and fastened something around my leg that latched with a click. Similarly, she fastened something on the left leg and I heard a similar click. Then she used both hands to pull a waste band around to the back and again something clicked. I could feel the firmness that the object caused against my diaper.

As she held my shirt against my chest, Carol ordered me to look down, so I could get a clear look at my diaper's support. It was not like anything I had seen before. Fine woven metal into flexible ribbons which were fastened together in various directions to form an open-mesh underwear-like support; it looked absolutely medieval. The clicking was the noise from small padlocks which prevented the device from being removed. And because of the coverage which the whole affair afforded, I could not remove my diaper at all.

"That should keep it in place for today!" Carol sounded proud of her handiwork.

"Put your slacks on and make yourself neat. Oh, and I suggest you go light on the coffee this morning. That diaper needs to last you all day." She remarked as she pulled the gag from my mouth and returned it to her shopping bag.

"You know where I live, so I expect to see you at my house tonight by 6:30 sharp!"

As I began to stutter in advance of forming a sentence, Carol again struck my groin with her fist. My testicles were better protected against her blow, but her intentions were clearly understood; "6:30 at your house, OK;" was my stunned reply.

By this time I was sweating profusely, feeling jittery and confused about what had just happened. My diaper was still dry but the locking device was uncomfortable, and when I sat, the metallic ribbons caused pressure on my penis. I wasn't quite sure if I liked the sensation or if it was uncomfortable.

Carol turned to face me and smiled as she opened the office door to leave.

"Be a good little boy today and I will give you a surprise tonight." She said softly as she turned and walked from my office.

During this encounter with Carol, my secretary had arrived and was turning on the office equipment and her computer. She was surprised when I called her from my desk instead of simply walking across the aisle to her cubicle.

"Can you re-arrange my schedule today, Lorna? I'm not feeling too well and I think I will spend the day working on my paperwork." I said.

Lorna just nodded.

I closed my office door again. I needed time to think and understand what had just gone on. As I walked from the door to my desk, I opened the fly of my slacks to examine the contraption that was now binding my diaper to me. I contemplated trying to cut it off, but quickly realized that my office scissors could not cut the finely woven wire ribbons. Anyway, the matter of the photographs and my career caused me to reconsider any unwise actions. After all, my life was not in jeopardy.

About this time I recognized that I had not urinated for over three hours and the discomfort was growing. I was not prepared to wet my diaper given the long day ahead, so I decided I would try to hold out for the day. As the balance of the morning passed, my mind continued to return to my predicament with Carol and the diaper retainer that was securely locked to my torso.

Just past noon, Carol stopped by, knocking before entering. She was holding a cold 20 ounce soft drink. She sat it on my desk and said;

"I figured you wouldn't be going out to lunch today, and I thought you might be thirsty. Here. Drink up!"

Liquids were not what I needed at this point. But Carol was showing that same intense look that I had seen just before I got her fist in my groin, earlier. So, I drank.

Carol said with a diabolical smile, "Finish it, I'll wait."

As I finished the soda, Carol reminded me that I was expected at her home at 6:30. I just nodded in affirmation.

By 3:00 pm I was ready to explode. Without any control left, I filled the diaper with pee. Fortunately, I was wearing the overnight disposable style and I knew that it could hold the fluid. Sitting on a wet diaper in a business suit, however was another matter; at least the retaining device kept the soggy diaper from drooping. I determined that this might be a good time for a stroll to the data processing department, where there was plenty of noise and lots of fresh air, should my wet diaper begin to smell.

Before I knew it, it was quitting time. My nerves were getting to me, and the day was pretty much a bust for getting work done. My diaper was very wet, and I would need to leave immediately to be on time at Carol's house with rush hour traffic. Carol had left about one half hour earlier to retrieve her son from his sitter. I thought again about skipping out on her; remembering the not-so-veiled threat with the photographs. Basically, I was screwed! I figured that she would work her silly fantasy plans out, 'show me who really the boss was' and tomorrow would be another day, albeit with a slightly different working relationship with one of my key subordinates.

I took a wad of paper towels from the men's room to line my car seat in case the sopping wet diaper leaked while driving to Carol's. Fortunately the disposable held and I arrived visibly dry. Since I had not been to my flat, all of my clothes were still in my car.

Carol met me at the door and inquired if I had dropped my wardrobe off at my flat. I replied; "No, my clothes are in the car."

Carol said; "Go get them; you will be staying here tonight." I waddled back to the car to retrieve the hangers and bag. As I was walking Carol blurted out "looks like you need a diaper change, little boy!" I'm sure that the neighbors working in their yard could hear her comment.

I choose not to reply.

Upon entering her home, I was immediately aware of the presence of her small son. He was in a small play pen in the living room, heavily occupied by his toys. I sat my clothing and bag on the foyer floor. Carol summoned me to her main floor bathroom.

"Go in there and remove your clothing" she said, pointing to the bathroom, "and leave the door open so I can see what you are doing!" she demanded.

Thus far, I still had my pride, as Carol had not seen my naked body. That would now change. Carol immediately entered the bathroom when I had finished removing my clothing; down to the diaper and the retainer. Flash! She took a photograph, saying nothing. Next, she produced a tiny key and removed the locks and the woven wire diaper retainer.

"So, how did that feel? Did you enjoy being unable to remove your diaper?" She paused, but I did not reply.

"My, my; this little boy is very wet!" She said as she pulled down the drooping and heavy diaper.

"Go stand in the tub, but don't turn the water on. Do not speak, and whenever I need to attend to you in any way, I want you to take your hands and hold on to your ear lobes and close your eyes. That way your hands will be out of the way and my work will be a greater surprise. Understand?"

Yes I nodded and followed her command without question. In my fear I had not even realized that she was looking at me completely naked for the first time. The apprehension of what might happen next overwhelmed my shyness reaction.

Carol removed the shower wand and adjusted the water to the desired temperature. She stoppered the tub drain and drew some warm water into the tub while I stood. My mind was wondering what would happen next.

"Sit" she ordered, and I lowered myself onto the shower seat she had placed in the tub.

Carol produced a wash cloth and baby shampoo and began to wash down my torso and my groin, using both hands to lather my penis and scrotum. I began to develop an erection, as she continued.

"Down, little boy, you are far too young for that!" She said as she continued rinsing the soap from me. The words didn't have much impact. Then I felt a striking pain on the head of my penis. Carol had used her finger and thumb to strongly snap the most sensitive part. The pain was intense and I loudly protested; "What are you doing to mmmmmmffffff"

Carol immediately stuffed the soapy washcloth into my mouth, grabbed my testicles with the other hand and began to squeeze.

"You are not to speak unless spoken to. And when I ask a question you will nod yes or no. IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?" She demanded.

I didn't speak. I nodded yes. My erection was gone. The wash cloth was removed from my mouth but the soap taste remained.

"Stand up and don't move" Carol ordered and she patted me dry, applying baby powder to my private parts. When finished, Carol said "Go into the kitchen and stand by the table. I'll be there in a minute."

I was becoming self conscience of my nakedness as Carol arrived into the kitchen. She spread a large beach towel on the table and instructed me to lie down, hands on ear lobes, eyes closed and knees bent at the edge of the table so that my legs would hang down towards the floor.

Not being able to see what was to happen, my apprehension grew. I could hear Carol drawing water into a basin and bringing it to the table. Her intentions became immediately clear as the cold shaving cream was dispensed from the can onto my skin. Carol was about to shave my groin and scrotum. She began to remove the hair surrounding my penis; she drew the skin tight at my scrotum to shave the few hairs that grew there. She worked quietly. I could hear her son, still occupied in the play pen.

"Little boys don't have hair on their penis and neither will you! Does it feel different? She asked. I didn't move. There was a pause and she asked again with greater emphasis suggesting that I should respond.

"DOES it feel different?" Remaining silent and not moving my head to agree or disagree, once again I felt her grab one of my testicles in her hand and begin to squeeze firmly. I immediately nodded in agreement.

"That's better! I expect a response to my questions." She offered, somewhat reassuringly.

When she finished the shaving project she spread oil on my slightly irritated skin. Wiped off the excess and applied a small amount of baby powder. Then she instructed me to slide further back on the table and lift up my butt. I opened my eyes slightly to see what was to happen next. She slid a thick cotton diaper under my butt and eased my legs apart to bring the soft fabric between my legs. Adjusting it to fit, she pinned the material in place. Carol next produced an adult size pair of plastic, pull on waterproof pants. Over the feet and over the diaper they went. Just like a larger version of her infant son's current attire.

As she was adjusting the fit, she commented that I looked like a proper little boy. She instructed me to open my eyes, get up and walk to the full length mirror near the bathroom for a look. I sheepishly did as requested, and was met with an interesting sight. It looked awkward, and as I turned to see Carol she snapped another photograph.

"Just another cute photo for my future email" she laughingly remarked.

"After all that, I'll bet you are hungry." Carol said as she handed me a blanket to wrap around me.

"Here wrap up in this and go sit on the sofa while I attend to my son and get us all some food. And, don't cause me any problems."

I was completely confused. Here I was, in a thick cloth diaper and plastic pants; no clothes, sitting on my employees sofa, trying to figure out if I was more contented, afraid, turned on or all of the above; very confused, at least. Never having worn a cloth diaper as an adult, it had a much nicer feel than the disposable diaper common to my Monday commute. The diaper material was softer and cooler, but the thick bulk between my legs produced an unusual feeling.

The TV was on and cartoons were playing. I just sat and watched. Carol picked up her son and went into her bedroom to attend to his needs. Then, I heard her moving about in the kitchen preparing food and feeding her son.

I could not see into the kitchen and was unwilling to move to get a view. Things were quiet and I didn't want to create a problem. After about 90 minutes, she reentered the living room with her son and a warm bottle. She said to me; "Take this bottle and feed my son while I finish our dinner. Watch him carefully. You might learn something." Carol positioned her son in my arms and positioned my hand with the bottle at his mouth.

After about 10 minutes, Carol returned with a tray containing food. She had prepared a frozen entrée for herself and what looked like oatmeal for me. I was not happy with the cuisine, but her earlier parting comment made me worry that she was planning on providing me with a bottle of warm milk! And, I had not eaten lunch. Food was food.

She took her nearly asleep son from my arms, patted his back until he burped and laid him on a blanked spread at the foot of the sofa. She sat next to me and handed me the small bowl of cereal and a small child's spoon. The cereal was warm, somewhat sweet but very bland. This was not regular oatmeal. 'Shorty' and I were eating from the same menu. I was not going to be satisfied with the quantity, but I also recognized that I was in no position to make a fuss. Surely, this would be over soon and I could eat a regular meal.

I said nothing. Just ate. Hoping that Carol would tire of this masquerade and I could get back to my flat to think things over and heal from my humiliation in private. Carol was finishing her dinner when she looked over and said "Oops, I forgot your drink. I'm sorry" as she quickly returned to the kitchen.

My earlier fears were to be proven true.

She came back with a giant size baby bottle with a large nipple affixed to the top. The contents looked like milk. Handing me the bottle, she said; "it should still be warm. You haven't forgotten how to suck have you?" I immediately nodded no and took the bottle to my mouth. Actually, it did take a few attempts to get the nipple working. The milk was warm and I was thirsty. Carol pushed my shoulder and caused me to fall sideways on the cushion of the sofa, as both of my hands were required to hold the bottle of milk. It was easier to suck the bottle in this position anyway, but it felt very baby-like.

Not far into the bottle I became drowsy. I was alert enough to recognize that I was quickly falling into a sleep-like state. Carol must have added something to the milk, I imagined. My previous level of stress would have kept sleep away for hours. Expecting this, Carol promptly said; "you look tired, are you falling asleep?" I nodded yes.

"Well, get up little boy before you nod off, I can't carry you to bed." She remarked.

I got up from the sofa, pulling the blanket over my shoulders and holding the bottle in my arm. Carol arose and grabbed my hand, leading me into a hallway and then opened the door to a small room near the bathroom. It was unlike the other doors within the hallway; this door was grey metal, opened into the hallway, instead of into the room, and was very solid looking. The room was very small and appeared to be a converted closet. Inside, filling the entire room was a single bed, not one foot was to spare in the room. One small recessed light was on the ceiling and the switch was outside of the room in the hallway. The walls were a strange metallic color. The sheets were already on the bed and two blankets were neatly folded near a pillow.

Carol said; "give me the bottle and in you go."

"You can cover up as you need to and I will wake you in the morning. Is your diaper dry?" Carol thrust her hand into the front of my diaper just as I was nodding yes.

"Ok, then, climb in."

As I crawled up on the bed, Carol closed the door. I could hear the door lock from the outside. I quickly tried the knob, only to find that it would not turn. And, moments later the light went out.

"Good night little boy." She said as she walked down the hall.

It was absolutely dark in the room. Only a tiny sliver of light came up from the crack beneath the door. The walls were smooth and very solid, not drywall as I expected. I was in a cell. No light, no toilet (not that it mattered) and no way out. I almost immediately fell asleep.

BANG! Bang! BANG! "Are you awake?" Carol called through the door. I was startled from a sound sleep. I opened my eyes with great momentary confusion from the strange surroundings. I heard the door unlock and Carol was standing in her nightgown and robe in front of the door.

"It's morning. Get up now and come here." She said.

I grabbed the blanket to wrap myself in, but Carol pulled it away and returned it to my bed.

"I need to see my little boy without covers." She said.

"Is your diaper wet?" She asked as she thrust her hand into my diaper.

"Oh my little boy is wet!" Still confused from the startling wake-up I would have nodded that I was dry, but clearly something had happened during the night that I did not recall. I had lost control. Indeed, my diaper was wet. This had never happened before, even though I had occasionally worn disposable diapers to bed.

"Into the kitchen and on the table as you did last night. I'll be right along." She said. I walked into the kitchen and climbed onto the table as instructed and remembered to close my eyes and grip my ear lobes. I had no interest in another punch in the groin. Carol entered the room.

The morning was early, with darkness still in the sky beyond the kitchen window. My thoughts turned to getting to work, and I began to speak.

"I need to get to work...." Without being able to finish the sentence, Carol's hand covered my mouth.

"Forgotten the talking rules, have you???" She said sternly as she removed her hand from my mouth, and went to work removing my plastic pants and wet diaper.

"I left a voice message for Lorna indicating that you had called me early this morning reporting that you were ill today and wouldn't make it to work. I told her that you wanted me to take care of something for you, and asked that I pass on the message to her." Carol announced. My heart sank; it looked this would be another long day of humiliation.

With Carol cleaning and handling my private parts, I could feel a hard on beginning and was afraid at what her reaction would be...SNAP!

Now I knew her reaction! And, the head of my penis stung from her high energy finger snap.

"Well," she said, "if you keep this up we are going to have to provide some additional training for you"

Carol left the room, quickly returning.

"Open your eyes, you will find this interesting, it's designed to prevent you from having an erection. Little boys don't have erections." She said. I immediately deduced that the clear plastic device was some sort of male chastity clamp. Soon I would learn more than I wished.

Pointing to the two piece device, she drew my attention to a small cavity in the front past an unnatural bend in the hard clear plastic. I had trouble comprehending how any penis would fit into the device; it didn't look comfortable even if it was possible. Then she said this device was a custom design for her; Lexan and unbreakable. Wearing it would be good training. Even if I could, I would probably never have more than one erection when wearing it. She went on to demonstrate. My mind began to seriously wonder what she did in her time off work; the large baby bottle and nipple, the strange bedroom construction, and now this device.

Carol showed me that there was a small moveable piston at the front end of the internal cavity of the device, where the penis would fit.

"If you have an erection the penis lengthens and the head pushes on this tiny piston." Carol explained as she pulled a small plastic bag from her nightgown pocket.

"This packet contains a blend of mineral oil and jalapeno pepper juice. If you get really hard and your dick presses the piston forward, the small packet will be pierced by the point in the end of the piston and the liquid will squirt onto the head of your penis." She explained as she assembled the packet in front of me. She sounded almost like an old high school teacher explaining a chemical reaction.

"Do you have any idea how that will feel?" She asked. I nodded yes, but my mind was searching my memory for any experience to compare to the pain she described.

"Let me just fix it onto you and we can getting you changed. Eyes closed." She instructed.

Before I could react, she had the bottom half fitted to my penis with my testicles passed around a slot in the lower section, which must have been necessary to keep the whole thing from falling off. I opened my eyes slightly to see what she was doing, figuring I would not be caught looking. I wanted to understand this thing so I could remove it if needed. Unfortunately I could not see what she was doing from my prone position on the table top. The device was snapped together place and some kind of tool was used to lock the pieces together.

It was bulky and felt strange, the added weight causing my penis and scrotum to drop deeply between my legs.

Carol finished applying baby powder and a fresh thick cloth diaper; and pulled on a clean pair of plastic pants; and led me off the table and into her bedroom.

"Sit" she instructed.

"Sit here on the bed and watch while I dress"

This was evil, indeed. Carol had a really great body. I had often admired it but knew to leave that subject alone at work. And, except for the occasional glance at her perky breasts and shapely hips, I never expressed my thoughts about her beauty. In her mid 30's she was still a "10". As an accountant, her attire was always conservative, loose fitting and unflattering to her shapely and well maintained body. Now she was standing in front of me in all of her beauty, shaved pussy and all. And, I was responding. The bend in the penis clamping device was causing great pain in my enlarging rod. It didn't feel like it was possible to get really big when constrained in the Lexan vise. Then she began to make seductive moves. And I continued to grow very painfully within the device. If only I could get my arousal under control.......

Something cool could be felt by the head of my penis. Then, WOW! burning! ferocious heat! It felt like my penis was being held over an open fire. I took my hand and tried to massage or somehow mitigate the pain. I screamed at the pain. Carol was clearly aware of my problem. And it was clear that her strip tease act had one intention only, I was to experience it for the rest of the day.

Carol, now naked approached me as I rocked back and forth. I was crying and moaning from the pain and had both hands trying to squeeze my penis unsuccessfully through a thick diaper and the plastic retainer. Nothing relieved the pain.

"Is my little boy hurting" Carol said, and pulled me up from the bed. She led me to my small bedroom and motioned for me to get on the bed. She closed and locked the door and turned out the light.

"I'll see you after work, little boy. By then the pain should be over. I'll bet that you'll be no problem tonight!" I could hear her say as she walked away from the locked door.

To be continued.

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