Doing Business Memorandums II, Part 5: Megan Ascends (Patreon)

This is the last part of this Memorandums series. The story is taking a short pause, so there won't be a new chapter published next week. But after that, we'll be jumping into Season 4. Thank you, as always, for reading along.

Miss a chapter? Here are links to every chapter in the story so far.

1.

Darren Yang did have a wide range of emotions, though this probably wasn’t obvious to everyone who worked with him. He had a smug stoicism about him, and he wore it like a mask at all times. Even if someone recognized it as a mask—it really didn’t matter because they couldn’t see behind it.

It had taken a long time to be able to do so, but Megan could now see behind the mask. And when she looked at his face—despite the fact his lips were locked in a confident grin—she saw concern and worry. Panic, perhaps.

“You and me,” he said. “We’re different.”

“How so?” she replied. He sometimes started conversations like this—sounding like he was answering a question that hadn’t been asked.

“The rest of them, they had their hands dirty, you know?”

She squinted her eyes, as if that helped her to make sense of what he was saying. “Who are we talking about?”

“The other execs,” he said, throwing his arms up in the air like it had been completely obvious. “And when I say that their hands were ‘dirty,’ I do mean that literally. The diaper changes and all that.”

“Oh,” she said. She hadn’t realized he was talking about that.

“Gabrielle, you know, her hands were dirtier than anyone else’s. Besides that other assistant girl’s.”

“Lyndie?”

“Sure. So it makes sense that they were the first to go, along with Gabby’s assistant…uh, Whatshisname.”

“Clark.”

“And then Neve’s assistant…”

“Ava,” Megan said. She wished she had made an effort to get to know her before she left. “But I think she had put in her notice before any of this had happened.”

“Nancy’s assistant quit too. Did you know that?”

“Bradley,” she said. She wondered if it was silly to speak their names—but it only seemed right. She didn’t want their existences reduced to associations with other people whose names that Mr. Yang could remember. “I hadn’t heard that.”

“Or fired,” he shrugged. “I don’t know what happened there. Neve is leaving too.”

“Is she?” This, too, was news to her.

“She says she’s leaving on her own accord, but you have to figure that the Board is breathing down her neck.”

The Board. Faceless ghosts that had a strange amount of power over everything the company did. Megan had never seen them, as far as she knew, nor had they seen her. Depending on the story that she was hearing on any given day, they were either in support of the executive team’s antics, or they were opposed to it.

“You think they want her to leave?”

“It makes sense,” he said. “Everyone else in the company has questions and concerns, right? You remove everyone who was involved in the situation, and then you don’t have to provide answers anymore.”

That made some sense, she thought.

“It’s just Nancy and I now,” he continued. “And you.”

How nice. Almost an afterthought.

“Nancy is fine,” he said. “You and I, we’re fine. We’re different.”

“Because our hands aren’t dirty?” She didn’t completely understand the logic, but sometimes she just had to try and speak in his language.

“People never saw you waddling around in a diaper, did they?”

“Not at work, no.” It was a cheeky comment and she knew it.

“We’re fine,” he said again. Everytime he said it, he sounded a little less sure of himself.

2.

“I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me today,” Troy Morris said.

He had an exceptionally kind face. Megan wondered why she hadn’t noticed this before, but quickly remembered that they hadn’t interacted much in the past. The most time they might have ever spent together, she thought, was when she positioned herself over his lap for a ceremonial spanking—the same ceremony that Clark had most recently found himself enduring.

“Of course,” Megan said. “When the CEO asks for some of your time, you give it to him.”

“Acting CEO,” he corrected. “The Board has just asked me to take on the role while they begin the process of finding a proper replacement for Gabrielle.”

“You must be quite busy,” she said.

“Sort of,” he shrugged. “There’s so much to do—so much to catch up with—that it almost feels impossible to even try. I’m just kind of letting everything sit on the back burner for now while I find my footing.”

Mr. Yang did not know she was here, and she doubted that she’d tell him about this meeting either. He hated Mr. Morris, though she was relatively certain that this was no fault of Mr. Morris’s. There was just something about that man that set Mr. Yang off. Maybe it was his gregariousness. His handsome face—though Mr. Yang would never be called ‘ugly’ either. Megan’s theory was that Mr. Morris didn’t have to wear a mask, and that was what made Mr. Yang hate him so much.

“I’m sure you’ll find it soon enough,” Megan said.

It was more than Mr. Morris’s exceptionally friendly face that she liked. She liked the way he looked at her. Lots of people looked at her everyday, especially in the office. They looked at her like they were trying to figure her out. Maybe they saw the faint glimmer of a man who didn’t exist anymore. But not Mr. Morris. He looked at her like she was a person. He saw Megan.

“So I wanted to talk to you, specifically, because I’ve been a bit of an, uh, admirer-of-sorts recently.”

She felt her cheeks warm a little. “I’m sorry?”

He laughed and shook his head, realizing he needed to rephrase what he said. “Your work, Megan. I’m an admirer of your work.”

“Oh,” she said, chuckling a little herself. Though, somewhere deeper down in her subconscious, she was a little disappointed.

“Yang presented that spending report last week,” he said. “It was an exceptional presentation. But…”

Megan laughed again, as if knowing where this was going.

“...I could tell that he had no fucking clue what he was talking about,” Mr. Morris continued. “It was as if someone had done all the work for him and all he had to do was talk about it. Do you know anything about that, Megan?”

“Maybe. A little.”

“I’m not kidding—that report was exceptional. Did you do that on your own?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You don’t have to call me sir, Megan.”

“Mr. Morris.”

“Just Troy is fine,” he said.

She nodded. She liked that.

“So, look, I’m inheriting a shitstorm of work here. They can say that I’m only temporarily the CEO, but we both know that a formal replacement isn’t coming for months. Maybe even longer. The Board has given me carte blanche to do whatever I need to do to get things back on track, though. And I think one of the first things I want to do is put together a team of folks that I trust.”

“An assistant, Mr. Mor— Er…Troy?”

“No,” he said. “‘Assistant’ is suddenly a bad word around here, if you haven’t noticed. Besides, I think you’re too smart to be assisting other people. I think you can be trusted with bigger, more important, projects. Hell, maybe you’d need an assistant yourself. Or a…helper? Whatever it is we’d end up calling them.”

“Oh wow,” she said, running her hand through her hair. She wasn’t sure what else to say.

“This is an informal conversation,” he said. “I’m only asking if you’d be interested—you don’t have to commit to anything today.”

“I’m interested,” she quickly blurted out. “Very interested.”

3.

She certainly wasn’t thinking about Mr. Yang during sex. But, then again, she usually didn’t. Often, she’d at least be thinking about sex—albeit with someone else—but she wasn’t even thinking about that today. She felt like a piece of furniture that a dog was humping.

“Oh Jesus,” Mr. Yang grunted from behind her. She almost laughed, imagining him as a pastor giving a sermon. “Jesus…fuck…”

It amazed her that he was still into this. It also amazed her that he didn’t seem to notice how she felt about it. Sure, she thought, I’m the one on my hands and knees right now. Maybe that was enough for him to assume she liked it.

Or he didn’t care.

“Come on,” she said, her voice vaguely encouraging. “Give it to me.” No thought had been put into the words—they came out of her mouth automatically, just part of a routine.

He said something. “Urgahana,” it sounded like. She wondered if he meant to say something intelligible.

She was thinking about Troy Morris, but she wasn’t thinking about being fucked by Troy Morris. She was thinking about the concept of legitimacy—as in, having an actual position within the company where she was respected and appreciated as a hard worker, not a glorified sex doll. When Mr. Morris—Troy—had shown interest in giving her a new position, that had almost brought her to an orgasm.

Something that Darren Yang, grunting and huffing away behind her, hadn’t done in a long time.

The timing of her conversation with Troy seemed serendipitous, actually. She hadn’t realized it, but she had fallen into a little rut, of sorts. Her life was a constant cycle of transactional sex and thankless toiling in the office. It was Clark, of all people, who made her realize that she wanted to break out of that cycle. She wasn’t sure that he had said or done anything specific to be a catalyst—he had just been a source of chaos, introduced to her life when she needed it. Since then, she had been thinking about finally doing all the things she had been putting off: breaking away from Darren Yang, getting a new job, getting an apartment that she paid for with her own money, etc. Troy gave her direction. He gave her hope that such things were more than just fantasies.

“Uhhh,” groaned Mr. Yang. She knew that sound.

There was a burst of wetness in her bottom. Once upon a time, she thought that she liked that feeling. She wasn’t sure that was true anymore—but it could just be the source of the wetness that she didn’t care for.

“Incredible,” he muttered, sounding like he was talking to himself. “I’ll never get sick of that.”

She didn’t respond to that. Either he didn’t notice, or again, he didn’t care.

They were in her apartment. His apartment, he’d sometimes remind her—seeing as how he was the one paying for it. This was usually where it happened. A handful of times they had done this in his office. Once or twice at his home—though he didn’t like bringing Megan to his home. He had never said this aloud, but he seemed to make it obvious enough. He could understand why—Mr. Yang was not a single man. He did not live alone.

Of course, few knew this. He didn’t talk about it much. He didn’t wear a wedding ring, causing Megan to speculate that he either didn’t like broadcasting his marital status, or he wasn’t actually married to the woman he lived with. Whoever she was, he had never even said her name aloud.

Carly was her name. Megan knew that thanks to the combination of some detective work and a little bit of luck. She kept the name close to her chest, making sure never to tell Mr. Yang that she knew it. It was banked with some other tidbits she had learned him along the way. She wasn’t sure what they’d be needed for, but they felt helpful to have. A ‘break glass in case of emergency’ depot of forbidden Yang-knowledge.

“Fuck,” he said, rolling onto his back. “Remember when I could do this twice in an afternoon? I’m getting older.”

“That was just a few weeks ago,” she replied, feeling wetness leak from her ass and down her thigh.

“Huh,” he grunted, seemingly displeased with her observation.

She was tempted to say that he had been acting ‘strange’ as of late, but that implied that there was a time when he had been ‘normal’—which he had never been. Since the Thomas Pritchard incident, he seemed to be slowly unraveling.

“I have to get going pretty soon,” Megan said. It was a trick she used from time to time—feigning the need to be somewhere else in an effort to get him to put on his clothes and roll out the door sooner. She wondered what today’s excuse should be. “I’m, uh, meeting some friends for dinner.”

“Are they cute?”

She sighed. “Sure.”

“Excellent,” he said. “I’ll tag along.” She was pretty sure that he was joking, though it was getting harder to tell.

“Well…”

“I’m kidding,” he said, grinning like he was the funniest man who had ever lived. He was sitting up now, legs crossed and his hands behind his head as he stretched his nude body out across her bed.

Note to self: wash those sheets before bed.

“I’ll see you in the office tomorrow?” he asked, finally sliding off the mattress to gather his clothes.

“You know it.”

4.

Troy Morris took a long and slow sip from his steaming mug of coffee. Megan was tempted to ask where he even got coffee that hot–it was a frequent complaint that the coffee pots throughout the office weren’t hot enough, but maybe that was one of the perks of being CEO. Acting CEO, as he’d be wont to remind her.

“So, the other day, you and I had a little chat,” he said. “I called it an informal conversation.”

“I remember,” she said, nodding.

“Well, today, I’d like to make it a formal conversation. I’d like to offer you a position. I haven’t ironed out the exact title yet, but I’m thinking something like ‘Operations Director.’ Something important sounding.”

“I mean, just as I told you last time, I’m very interested.”

“You’re smart and you’re organized, Megan. I think you’d be a valuable asset in helping me get the company on track again. I drafted up a list of job responsibilities,” he said, pointing down to a piece of paper on his desk. He pushed it towards her. “And on the bottom of that paper, is a number. I already got it cleared with the board–so I don’t want you to think that’s a fib. That’d be what I want you to make if you took this position.”

She wanted, very badly, to look at the number at the bottom of the paper first, but she resisted that urge–figuring it’d be best if she at least took a glance over what kind of work he’d be expecting her to do. By and large, it didn’t seem like anything she hadn’t done while working with Darren Yang. Though there were a few terms that jumped out at her that felt like they were beyond what she knew how to do.

“Data analytics?” she read aloud.

“Ah, don’t worry about that,” he said, waving his hand. “I don’t know much about that either. But we could learn together.”

She bit her bottom lip and squirmed a little in her seat. She wanted to learn everything with Troy. She wanted to learn everything about Troy. Regardless of what salary he was offering, she suspected she’d take the job–if only to spend more time around him.

But then she saw the number. No, that can’t be right, she thought. She looked at it again, trying to decide if there was a typo or if she just didn’t understand what she was looking at. Because if this was the offered salary, it was significantly more than she was making as Mr. Yang’s assistant. In fact, it might have even been more than Mr. Yang was making himself. This was an absurd amount of money. A stupid amount of money.

“Are, uh, you serious about this amount here?” Megan asked.

“Quite,” he said. “Like I said, you’re worth it. I want you to stay with the company and work with me.”

With you, under you…whatever you want.

“I… I’m very interested in this position,” she said.

“I thought you’d say that. Say the word and I’ll get the ball rolling with HR. I’ve been told that we can have you transitioned into this new role within the next two weeks.”

Such things shouldn’t matter, but she still had to know: “What about, uhm, Mr. Yang?”

“Ah, well, I’ll leave that part up to you. If you don’t want to talk to him about it, I’d be more than happy to have a conversation with him.”

“I can talk to him,” she nodded.

“Actually…I wanted to ask you about him anyway.”

“Hmm?”

“Well, I really hate to put you in this position, but the board has had some concerns about him and they’ve kind of left it up to me to decide if he should stay or go. Honestly, I’m not sure that I really care either way. I never cared for him much, personally, but I also didn’t know him that well. If you don’t mind…I’d love to get your thoughts on him, and if you think there’s a place for him in the company moving forward.”

She laughed aloud. Absolutely unreal. Minutes ago, she was still Mr. Yang’s assistant. A few days ago, he was fucking her from behind. Now, his job was in her hands.

“I’m very grateful for Mr. Yang for a lot of things,” she said. She meant that. “But that doesn’t mean that I like him.” She also meant that.

“Fair enough.”

“I think I’d like some time to think about it, if that’s okay with you.”

“Of course,” he said, his voice still kind and smooth. “Take all the time you need.”

“I truly appreciate that, Mr. Morris.”

“Troy,” he said. That sexy grin was sending signals to her, she was sure of it.

“Troy,” she nodded.

5.

Megan had intended to talk to Mr. Yang sooner, but she was still in the habit of avoiding him whenever possible. She went home that night with a bottle of wine and celebrated by herself. She wished she had friends to call, it’d have been nice to not have to drink alone. At the very least, she would’ve liked to have called Clark–though the two hadn’t spoken in a bit. Was he upset that she texted his photos to his mother? If so…that was fair. She still felt pretty bad about that. More likely though, if the rumors were true, he was living his best life as Gabrielle Heller’s little pet baby. Nice work if you can get it. And so, drinking alone it was.

She came into the office late the next day, a little hungover.

“Well, well, well, look who decided to show up,” Mr. Yang said, ushering her into his office and closing the door behind him.

“Uh…sorry I’m a few minutes late,” she said, still rubbing some sleep from her tired eyes. She’d have offered an actual excuse…but fuck it.

She could see through the mask this morning. Mr. Yang looked pretty upset.

“Why did I have to hear about your new promotion from anyone other than you?” he asked.

She scratched her head. “Wh-who told you?”

“Nancy from HR,” he said. “She sent me an email detailing your transition to Troy-fucking-Morris’s team.”

“He offered me a very good position,” she said. “I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to talk about it with you first, but… Well, I had to take the job.”

“Did you forget who butters your bread?” he asked. “Who pays for your clothes? Your pretty little dresses? Your apartment?”

“Look, I want to be clear with you, Darren…” She rarely called him ‘Darren,’ but it felt like it was time to use it. Troy showed her that she was worthy of being on a first-name basis with her boss.

“That’s Mr. Yang to you, you ungrateful little…” He stopped himself and took a deep breath in an attempt to compose himself. He started over again: “Look, let me make it simple for you, okay? If you’re going to work with Troy-fucking-Morris, then you’re getting cut off. That apartment is no longer yours. You’re on your own for buying clothes. And you better believe that you’re not going to be feeling my cock in your asshole anymore.”

She almost laughed, thinking about how tempting it was to shout back: “Thank god for that.”

“Are you sure this is such a good idea?” he asked. “Are you sure you want to lose everything?”

She wasn’t sure how to respond to this. Maybe she’d be more sure of herself if she wasn’t battling a hangover. There was one thing worth saying, though–something that she might have been a little nicer about presenting if she was feeling better: “Are you sure that you want to lose everything?”

He narrowed his eyes and sat back in his chair. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I heard something too,” she said. “I heard about the board being less than pleased with you.”

“H-how did you… Who told you that?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “But I can promise you that if I went to my new boss and told him that I didn’t think you were worth keeping around…well, the front door would be hitting you in the ass on your way out.”

“That’s bullshit,” he said, shaking his head. “You don’t have that kind of pull around here.”

“Try me,” she shrugged. She could feel it washing over her–power. The realization that Mr. Yang had nothing to hold over her anymore. “Fuck around and find out.”

She was sure that he had more to say, but she didn’t feel like listening to it. She stood up and left his office while he sat in his chair–dumbstruck by both her audacity and the conversation they had just had.

6.

“Can I talk to you in my office, please,” read the message Mr. Yang sent to Megan’s computer a few hours later. At first glance, it didn’t really say that much–but, once again, Megan could see behind the mask. It was the ‘please,’ that seemed out of place. He never said please to her.

Oh, this was good. Without having any idea what he wanted to say, she already knew she had the higher ground.

Taking a seat across his desk from him, it was like she was looking at a completely different man than the one who talked to her that morning. He looked friendly–or, at least, like he wanted to appear friendly.

“So…” he began. “I, uh, just want to tell you that I’m sorry about this morning. I had the chance to talk to Mr. Morris this afternoon and, er, he seemed pretty excited about having you on his team.”

There was a lot that he wasn’t saying–a lot that he probably didn’t have to say. Suddenly, Mr. Yang looked scared and afraid. He knew that his career–possibly even more than that–was now in Megan’s hands. She wished she had been a fly on the wall when he and Mr. Morris had talked. What had he said to Mr. Yang?

“I’m excited too,” she said.

“I…I’m sure. Look, about the apartment and all that–maybe we can work something out and…”

“I don’t want your apartment,” Megan said. “I don’t need your money. I don’t need your cock.”

He sighed. “But…I just…” The sound of a man fumbling for the words and coming up empty. But Megan knew what he wanted to say: “Please don’t ask Troy Morris to let me go.”

“If you don’t want to leave the company,” she said, “you shouldn’t have to.”

“No?”

She laughed a little, sitting back in her chair. She hadn’t thought about this conversation much–maybe in little fantasies she had over the years–but not since she accepted Mr. Morris’s offer. “If you want to work here, you can work here. You want to work here, don’t you?”

“Well…yes. I do.”

“Darren,” she said–he didn’t correct her this time, “how badly do you want this job?”

He sighed and tapped his fingers on his desk. He was looking around his office, possibly taking inventory of what he had here in his little bubble. “I mean…I need this, Megan. Surely, we can work towards some sort of agreement, right? Maybe it’s time we put an end to you and me and our little…”

“Oh, that won’t be a problem,” Megan said. “You and I–whatever it was that we had–it’s over now. You won’t be my boss. You won’t be my daddy. You won’t be fucking me, and I won’t be fucking you. In fact…I’d like my key.”

She almost wondered if she’d need to specify which key she was talking about, though she was certain he knew. There was only one that he kept from her. Truthfully, she probably didn’t really need it–she could find her own way out of her chastity if she had to. She had even saved a tutorial on picking the type of lock her chastity device had a while ago, and it was saved on her laptop just in case the day came where she needed it. Getting the key from Darren was just easier.

“Y-yeah,” he said, reaching into his pocket. “Of course.”

He pulled out his keychain, and began to fumble with it, flipping through all the keys until he found the right one. She thought it was kind of amusing that he kept the key to her chastity with the rest of his keys like this. Keys to his house, his car, his office, his boat, and…her dick–all within easy reach. She liked how Ms. Heller did it with the key to Clark’s chastity–kept on a chain and worn as a necklace. Once in a while, Megan would catch sight of the chain on Ms. Heller’s neck–or on even rarer occasions, she’d spot the key itself–and it would provide a little thrill. Clark’s entire manhood was reduced to a piece of jewelry, worn by another woman.

Meanwhile, she thought, I’m just another door to open when he needs to.

He set a key down on the desk and slid it across to her.

“You don’t mind if I take care of this now, do you?” she asked.

“Huh?”

She didn’t bother repeating herself, instead hiking up her skirt and pulling down the front of her black panties–revealing her chastity cage.

Sometimes, she liked that she wore the cage. There was some sort of symbolism about it that she never fully fleshed out–but something about keeping the last relic of manhood locked away and rendered useless. She sometimes wondered if, after she took off this chastity, she’d buy one of her own. She didn’t mind being in a cage–she just didn’t want it to be Darren Yang’s cage.

She tried the key, and it slid into the lock chamber effortlessly with a series of faint, but extremely satisfying, clicks. With a slight turn of the key, there was one more click–and then the feeling of looseness. The pressure of the cage had been so ever-present that she had gotten used to it–it rarely even registered with her anymore. That pressure was gone now, though, and she could tell. Freedom–permanent freedom–felt amazing. Near-orgasmic, really. She tucked her dick back into her panties and pulled her skirt down again, before placing the empty cage atop the desk.

“This belongs to you,” she said.

“I…don’t think I want it,” he shrugged. “It was for you. And if you don’t need it, then it’s trash.”

“I dunno,” Megan said. “I think it might still have a use.”

Darren–he was no longer ‘Mr. Yang’ to her–laughed a little. “Yeah? Do you think it should be mounted on the wall as a decoration or something?”

“No,” she said. “I was thinking you should take it home with you. Clean it up. And then when you come into work tomorrow, you could be wearing it yourself. I’m pretty sure it’ll fit you just fine.”

“What?” he said, a little smile still on his face. He looked like he heard what she had said–he just didn’t believe it.

“You heard me.”

“Megan, I’m not going to…”

“Are you really in a position to tell me what I can or can’t do, Darren? You already said that you really want to keep your job. And I think you know by now that I happen to be holding your job in the palm of my hand. So…if you want your job, you’ll come to work tomorrow wearing that.”

“But…” The smile on his face was gone. His cheeks were flushed pink, and he was shaking his head slowly. “How do you expect me to…”

“That’s what I want.”

“For how long?” he asked.

“For as long as I want.”

He sighed. “Okay…fine.”

Really? That was easy. Too easy. So easy that she wondered how Darren ever had any power at all.

“Great,” she said. “I’ll be keeping the key, then. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“W-wait,” he said as Megan stood up.

“Hm?”

“Is…is that all? That’s all you want from me for you to let me keep my job?”

She shrugged. “Why? Do you want there to be more?”

“N-no, that’s not what I meant. I just…”

“We’ll start with chastity,” she said. “Let’s see how that goes.”

7.

Bzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Holy fuck. What an absolute power trip. When she replayed the conversation back in her head–and it was being replayed on a near constant loop–it felt like a movie that she had only been watching and not participating in.

She was thinking about it as she held the vibrator against the front of her soaked diaper in her bedroom–the vibrating shaft pressed against her hard cock.

When she came, she came so hard that her cream shot out from the waistband of the diaper, spreading onto her belly before slowly dripping back back down into the padding again.

She felt like the most powerful woman on the planet.

8.

The next day, Darren came to her office, and took a seat on the other side of her desk.

“Good morning, Darren,” she said, as if this was just another normal conversation.

“Uh, hi…”

“Can I help you with something?”

He sighed. “You, uhm, asked me to do something yesterday. Remember?”

“Hmm,” she mused, tapping her chin in an exaggerated manner as she pretended to think about it. “Maybe? I’ve been so busy lately that it’s hard to recall every conversation I’ve had.”

“Come on, Megan. Don’t play dumb.”

“Darren, why don’t you just tell me what you did or didn’t do.”

He drew in a long breath and paused for a moment. Finally: “I…did it.”

“It? What is it? What did you do?”

“Yesterday, you gave me the cage. You told me to put it on. And…I did that.”

“Did you now?” she asked. She wished she wasn’t being so expressive right now, but she couldn’t help it–she was absolutely elated. “You…disinfected it first, yes? I had been wearing it for a while.”

“Y-yes…”

“And how does it fit?”

“Well, it’s a little big, but I don’t think it’s going to fall off or anything.”

“Interesting,” she said. “I always thought it was a little snug on me. What do you think that means?”

His cheeks turned bright pink, but he didn’t answer. She didn’t need him to answer, either, she just wanted to throw that out there–she had long known that she was packing more than he was, and had always wanted the opportunity to say as much.

“I’ll need to see it, of course,” she said. “While I’d love to take your word for it, there’s just too much at stake.”

He looked over to the window in Megan’s office. This wasn’t like his–or any of the other executives’–office, where the rooms were almost entirely protected from outside eyes. Just beyond the glass were cubicles–though it was early enough that there were very few people in this part of the building yet.

“You should probably be quick about it,” Megan continued. “Donna will be here any minute, and she sits right there,” she said, pointing to a cubicle that seemed to have a pretty good vantage point right into her office.

He said nothing else, and made no further attempts to delay the inevitable. He stood up, quickly unfastened his belt, unzipped his pants, and pushed his pants and boxers down just enough to display his manhood–locked up in a familiar looking cage. Then, just as quickly as he pulled his pants down, he hoisted them back into place. He sank back into his seat again–just as Donna casually strolled past Megan’s office on her way to her cubicle.

“Very good,” she finally said, nodding.

“How long do I have to wear this for?” he asked.

“As long as I want,” she shrugged.

“But…Megan. You realize that I don’t live alone, right? I can’t just have my penis locked up indefinitely.”

“How long do you think it would take for Carly to notice?” Megan asked.

His eyes grew big and his mouth hung open. God, it was so satisfying to see that expression on his face when she finally dropped that bit of knowledge.

“How do you know…”

“I don’t know her,” Megan said. “But I know she exists. And I’m willing to bet that she doesn’t know that I exist. She doesn’t know about the little toy you’ve kept as your assistant for the last few years, does she?”

“Megan…sooner or later she’s going to find out. And what am I supposed to say to her?”

She shrugged. “Did you ever, once, care about what I’d have to say to the people in my life as I transitioned?”

“Right, but you wanted that. It’s not like I forced you to–”

“No, you’re right,” she nodded. “But that’s not what I’m asking. I’m asking if you ever thought about how hard it was for me to have conversations with my friends and loved-ones about what I was going through. Or did it just not matter to you, because all you cared about was your little girl-toy in the office?”

“I…well… If I said that I did think about that, would you even believe me?”

She laughed. “No, probably not.” But, also, she was pretty confident that had never been the case. Darren Yang only ever cared about Darren Yang’s needs.

“I suppose good behavior will convince me to return the key sooner.”

“The, uh, cage came with two keys,” Darren said. This was true–but it was also a bluff.

“You lost one, remember? When you took me to the Outer Banks.”

He sighed and threw his hands up in the air.  “Fine. Happy now?”

“I have to be honest with you,” she said. “I’m feeling very good right now.”

9.

“You seem pretty confident about this plan,” Troy said. He insisted on being called Troy, despite how tempting it was to call him Mr. Morris. “It all looks pretty sound to me, so if you think this is what we should roll with, then let’s do it.”

Megan nodded. “I feel good about it.”

It wasn’t much–just a spending report for a new initiative she was spearheading in the office. However, it was her first major task since beginning her new role, and thus she saw it as the first opportunity to make a good impression on Troy. Which, from the looks of it, she had.

“Well, look,” he said. “I’m going to sneak out of the office a few minutes early today. If anyone comes looking for me…”

“I’ll tell them to get lost,” she said. They both laughed.

“Thatta girl.”

“So what’s getting you out of the office early tonight?” she asked. “Something fun, I hope.”

“A, uh, date, actually,” he said, a little pink in his cheeks as he ran a hand through his short hair.

There was a moment where Megan was a little unsure of how she should feel about this. She had been harboring a little crush on the guy for the last few weeks, and there were times–though she could never be sure–where she thought he might have been flirting with her too. She certainly thought about him when she was home at night, her hand inside of her diaper while she played with herself.

“Sounds nice,” she smiled. “Someone new?”

“Third date, actually,” he said, barely able to hide his goofy smile. “But I’m kinda crazy about her, so fingers crossed this pans out.”

Maybe this was a good thing. It could mean that her relationship with Troy was more platonic. More professional. It meant that, maybe, she didn’t have to stress about complicating things with emotions and sex and, most likely, the inevitable confession that she really just wanted a daddy to change her diapers for her.

This is what it’s like to have an actual boss, she thought. One that I don’t have to fuck.

“I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you too, then,” she said, grinning.

“Well, I appreciate that. But, look–you don't need to hear your boss talking about his love life.”

The moment felt reaffirming. It was a reminder that his job offer, his reliance on her, and his friendliness towards her were all genuine. This wasn’t a handout. This wasn’t one side of a transaction that required sex to be complete.

That felt better than anything else had felt recently.

“Well, have a good time,” she said. “And at least tell me how it went tomorrow?”

10.

She wasn’t thinking about Troy. She could’ve–and it was tempting to–but it felt wrong now. He was her boss, and maybe it was best if she didn’t drag him into her fantasies.

Now, when she closed her eyes, there was someone else there between her legs–asking if she needed her diaper changed. She wasn’t sure who the person was–but she was confident that she’d eventually meet the right person to fill that faceless being’s form.

In the meantime, it didn’t matter who it was–just that there was an imaginary presence there, asking about the condition of her diaper.

“It…it’s pretty dirty,” she said aloud, as if talking to someone.

It wasn’t a lie. She had come home from the office feeling like she was absolutely desperate for the feeling of a ruined diaper against her skin. She probably could’ve waited for nature to take its course–but she was feeling impatient and had grabbed the enema bag from the closet. Now her bloated diaper was filled to capacity–a sloppy mess was just barely contained inside of it as she slipped one hand down the front of her diaper and the other held her vibrator to the padding.

One of the nice things about chastity was that it had forced her to get more creative with how she brought herself to climax. But…there was something really nice about the immediacy of just stroking herself though.

She thought of Clark, who was probably somewhere sitting in a dirty diaper of her own.

She thought of Darren Yang, who was probably still struggling with hiding his cock from whoever Carly was to him.

She thought of Troy Morris, who was probably being his effortless charming self with a very lucky woman right about now.

She thought of the faceless being who was urging her to ‘make cummies in your dirty diapies.”

“Fuck…”

11.

There was a knock at her office door.

“Come in.”

“Hi, Megan?” It was Peter, her new assistant. Well, aide, as she liked to refer to him. Polite and hardworking, though a bit naive. Someone like Neve Beaufort or Gabrielle Heller would’ve had this kid crawling on the ground and pissing his pants in an hour. And…that was certainly a tempting option, but she thought it’d be best to not let history repeat itself.

Still, it didn’t stop her from daydreaming about it when she saw his boyish face.

“Yes, Peter? What’s up?”

“Mr. Yang is here to see you…”

She sighed. “Can you just–”

“I know,” he said. “I tried to get rid of him or make him schedule a time to come see you. I said I’d come over and see if you’re available for him now…but I’m prepared to go back and say that you’re unavailable.”

“It’s fine,” she sighed. “Send him in.”

Peter looked surprised by this–she almost never caved like this. “You sure?”

“It’s okay,” she nodded. “Thank you.”

Soon after, Peter was gone and there was a new shape in her doorway–Darren. He stumbled in, quickly shutting the door behind him before he took a seat.

“Darren. I heard you had this immediate reason to talk with me? Is everything okay? Is it an emergency?”

“D-don’t play coy with me, Megan,” he said. “You know why I’m here.”

“Enlighten me.”

“It’s been a month. I’m still locked up. Carly thinks I’m cheating on her because I won’t have sex with her. I…I need to get out of this thing.”

“And so you thought you’d barge into my office and demand I release you?”

“No…I thought maybe we could barter? Make a deal of some sort?”

“It’s safe to say that I’m more respected around the office than you are now,” she said. “I’m not sure that you have all that much you can give me.”

“Anything, Megan. Anything.”

She sat back in her chair and thought about it a little. She imagined herself tasking Darren with being her nanny–wiping her ass for her when she made a messy diaper. Then, she imagined Darren himself in a plump diaper–whining and crying on the floor while the front of it turned yellow.

Or…maybe this was when she revealed that she knew where Darren and Carly lived. Maybe he’d pay Carly a visit, and they could have a little chat about Darren’s life outside the house. Maybe she’d hand Carly the key to Darren’s cage and tell her to do with it as she pleased. Hell, maybe Carly would even be interested in having some diapers on hand.

“I’ll think about it,” she said.

“Please,” he said. “Soon?”

“Soon,” she nodded. “I’ll think about it this afternoon.”

He sighed. “Thank you.”

“Is that all?”

“Y-yeah. I’ll get out of your way. But, you’ll tell me when you made up your mind?”

She nodded again. “Promise.”

It was hard to read the expression on his face as he stood up and reached for the door. He looked distressed, but he might have also been impressed.

“I…I had no idea you were like this,” he said.

She shrugged. “You know, I think this is your fault.”

“How so?”

“Well…you tried to create a girl. But what you actually created was a goddess.”

Oh. That sounded nice. That was what she needed–someone kneeling at her feet, calling her a goddess while she looked down at them. And after, they’d change their goddess’s diaper.