SubscribeStar Story: The Presentation, Part One

Author’s Note: Artwork pending.

Part One

“No, I’m serious,” I said, “I’ll do it.”

The things I would do to keep others from taking all the credit.

It all started a few weeks ago, when Blaire transferred to my department. She somehow convinced someone to make her my assistant manager, when that position didn’t exist before her. Not in our wing of the building, anyway. When I was consulted about the role, the conversation was basically me being told that it was happening, rather than seeking my approval. Blaire needed the management experience before she could be properly promoted, and she had expressed interest in the project our team had been working on.

Whatever she said, it was bullshit. The /real/ reason Blaire wanted to join our department specifically was because we were on track to launch a new product the following year. Or, in other words, she wanted her name and face to be attached to something that I had been working on for over six months.

Blaire was fresh out of college, more or less, but she was built for corporate games. It didn’t take long for her to start bossing around the interns on my behalf, while also keeping a friendly relationship with them. And whenever we had meetings with other departments and/or higher ups, she always participated just enough to make her presence and contributions known, without bragging or undermining me.

It didn’t help that she was fucking gorgeous. While I wasn’t into girls or anything like that, I couldn’t help but feel self conscious around her. Especially when she wore heels. I had always been on the smaller side. Standing at 5’2” with rather modest curves, there were days when Blaire was at least a half foot taller than me between her natural height and her footwear.

I was the kind of girl that was called ‘cute,’ and she was the kind of girl that was called ‘hot.’ However, that was my personal baggage. I had always been annoyed at how I had only ever had the one growth spurt. Blaire never commented on my size, subtly or otherwise. I just had to deal with the fact that she was a year or two younger than me, yet was the one who looked more mature at first glance.

As for the things she /did/ say, it was impossible to call her out on anything. All I could do was give her tasks that were more assistant-like, for the sake of keeping the managerial work for myself. But even that gave her plenty of insight into what we were doing as a department, and allowed her to worm her way into pretty much every conversation and every meeting over the following weeks.

She was a hard worker. And she had a way of getting people to notice her without ever saying or doing anything wrong. So I kept biting my tongue, and eventually accepted that it didn’t matter that much. Whether it was with me or someone else, Blaire was going to play her games and get the promotion that had already been promised to her. At the end of the day, I was still the manager, and I was on track for my own promotion and/or raise. The only real annoyance was her benefiting from the legwork I had done myself.

The Monday before Christmas Eve, we were set to present our product to both the company and the investors who were attending a holiday dinner/party that evening.

Specifically, we had developed diapers that would easily be the best on the market. They were designed in a way that made them both absorbent and leak-proof, to a point. A second layer was all it would take to guarantee holding a larger mess, as we were making sizes for every age range. The most notable feature, however, was that the diapers would contain the smell of just about any accident. There were a number of benefits to that. Avoiding public embarrassment when it came to older customers, or simply not being a bother to others in the area for parents.

At this point, we were in the final stages of product testing. After that, it was simply a matter of marketing and launching the superior protection the following year.

And, to prove that they worked, we had lined up a model who was willing to both wear and /use/ the diapers just before they took the stage that evening. We were paying them a premium, of course, and would give them access to a shower in the company locker room right afterwards.

Everything was set, until Blaire stepped into my office after lunch. Megan, one of our interns, was with her. “Hey, Aurora,” Blaire said, “We have a problem. Our model canceled. She just called in sick.”

I couldn’t believe it. While we didn’t /need/ a model, that was going to be something that made our presentation more engaging than just another employee standing there with a clicker and some powerpoint slides. And it was December 22nd. It was highly unlikely that we’d find a model for the niche we needed in a single afternoon so close to Christmas.

“What about one of the interns?” I asked. They weren’t needed on stage. As soon as I said it, I knew it was a dumb idea.

Blaire said as much in her response. “Pretty sure we can’t demand /that/ much of our interns,” she chuckled, “Anyway, I didn’t want to come to you with just a problem. I think I have a solution, provided I have your approval.”

Her idea was that she’d wear the diapers herself. She’d be our department’s model, and let Megan take over a few things for the presentation itself. While there was no such thing as a ‘personal intern,’ Blaire had unofficially made Megan hers in terms of Megan being her go-to girl for more important things.

When I asked about using the diapers, Blaire just shrugged. According to her, it was no big deal. Just a quick ‘accident,’ and she’d rinse off right afterwards. “Besides,” she smiled, “I bet I’d look cute in padding.”

Of course she would. It would be an excuse to show off her long legs way more than she’d be able to in a skirt. More importantly, she would be getting SO much attention. Standing up there in diapers and the winter-y onesie the model was going to be wearing. It didn’t matter that she’d be taking less of a speaking role; literally everyone there would remember the girl wearing diapers on stage, casually flaunting herself.

“I should do it,” I blurted out. What was I even saying? It was just- I had had fucking enough of Blaire strutting around and making a name for herself in my department. Plus I had overheard the interns talking about me forever ago, mentioning that I seemed a little bit stuck up. I didn’t get on their case about it, since that was how every business worked; underlings gossiped about their bosses, and there was a good chance I’d prove their point if I snapped at them. This could be my way of showing my colleagues that I could loosen up. “I mean, I’m closer to the model’s size. And-”

“Come on, Aurora,” Blaire cut me off, “You’re leading the presentation. You can’t do both. Besides, you’ll have to, you know, /use/ the diapers.”

Well . . . Yes, I would have to do that. But so would she, if she wore them. It didn’t sound like she was implying that she was more capable than I was, considering the ability to have an ‘accident’ was hardly something to brag about, though I still didn’t appreciate the subtle comparison.

“No, I’m serious,” I said, “I’ll do it.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, “We’ll have to restructure things. I still think we should keep Megan around as an extra set of hands if one of us is going to be the model.”

Not one of us. I was going to be the model. Not her. “Then we’ll restructure,” I said, “I’m sure, Blaire. It was a good idea. Let’s just make it work with me demonstrating the product.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Blaire said, “In that case, you should go talk with the research girls. I sent them a note asking about this before coming to you, just to be sure they were on board. They can make this work, but will need to take measurements and get you fitted for your diapers. I can let them know that you’re on your way down, as well as that it will be a different girl than I initially suggested.”

“Umm, sure,” I replied. This was moving a bit faster than I had anticipated. Not that I should have been surprised. Blaire had a habit of getting the proper approvals before moving forward with anything, similar to how she had come to check with me before proceeding with the solution she suggested. Just another reason I was never able to reprimand her for anything. Opportunistic as she was, she always did her job properly.

“On it,” Blaire nodded, “Do you want me and Megan to start restructuring the presentation, or should we wait for you to get back?”

Hmm. I didn’t love the idea of her taking over in my absence. At the same time, we only had the afternoon to adjust to not having the model who was supposed to be there. “You can get started on an outline,” I said, “When I return, we’ll get into the specifics.” That felt like a good way to split the difference. I was still going to have final say when it came to the final draft.

Once that was decided, I got up and headed towards the elevators. Research & Development was on a lower floor. I’d normally be heading down there to check on their progress, and to collect whatever information I needed for an upcoming meeting. Now, I was visiting the duo to talk about personally wearing the very diapers they had been developing.

When I arrived, I was politely greeted, then whisked over to a private room where I was told to strip down to just my underwear and bra. I had been so focused on the thought of being the model later, I hadn’t considered the actual logistics of putting on diapers. Like how I was going to have to take off my professional clothes and let a couple of coworkers see me half naked. Or worse, if they were going to be involved where the padding was concerned.

Hesitant as I was, I did as I was told. The alternative was appearing like I was shy about undressing, when it was objectively fine for girls to see each other like that. By the time the two girls stepped back into the room, I was standing there in my simple underwear set, trying not to shiver in the chilly room.

“Before we continue,” one of them said, “Do you mind signing this?” Vivian handed me a small document, letting me know that it was more of a waiver than anything else. After all, this went beyond the usual boundaries of working together with someone, and I needed to give my consent for everything.

I skimmed the page, affirming that I was agreeing to both wear and use the diapers. The one part that bothered me was that it stated that Blaire was the one who was approving of this. It made sense, when she was the one who had messaged them, but I was still tempted to make them rewrite it. Except that would mean prolonging my exposure even longer, for something that ultimately didn’t make much of a difference.

After I signed and dated, the other girl took out her tape measure. I could have just given her most of my numbers. But, whatever. As girls whose literal job was research, they’d probably be more inclined to do everything themselves just to make sure. And if I was going to be wearing diapers, I definitely wanted them to fit properly.

“Do you mind if I take this off, Aurora?” she asked, “I can’t get an accurate measurement while you’re wearing a push-up bra.”

She said it so directly and professionally, which almost made it more embarrassing when paired with how she was fiddling with the strap while referencing my bra. Flushing slightly, I muttered, “Umm, if you have to? It’s 32, otherwise.”

“Blaire says you’re tonight’s model,” she said, “We need all of your measurements, to compare your size to what the original girl was supposed to be wearing. Here, I can do it for you.” With that, she undid the clasp on my bra band.

Eyes widening at the abruptness, and hands twitching as I felt the need to cover myself up, I forced myself to keep my arms down. Again, not wanting to broadcast how self conscious I was about my body, when this would go a lot faster if I simply held still and allowed myself to be measured.

Either I was that transparent, or she guessed that the average girl might want some modesty, she said, “Got it. Here’s a towel if you want to cover for now. We’ll be back in a minute with your diapers. Without the bra, you should be able to fit in the original onesie.”

I was left alone again, this time just in panties. My bra and business clothes were all within reach, yet I had to settle for the small towel I had been given. Thankfully, they didn’t make me wait for long. A minute or two later, both girls returned with the ‘clothes’ they had referenced. I was starting to second guess my decision to take this away from Blaire. At this point, however, it felt like I was in too deep to back out.

“Go ahead and take off your underwear when you’re ready,” Vivian said, “We’ll have you lie down on the changing table and get you diapered. Don’t worry, you’re not the first product tester we’ve done this with.”

Okay, except I wasn’t a product tester. I was a young manager who was only doing this to keep someone else from getting undeserved attention.

A private room wasn’t nearly enough to soften the blow of being fully naked at work. I tried my very best to not make a face as I gripped the hem of my panties, pulling them down my legs and carefully stepping out of each hole. The last thing I needed was to lose my balance in my current state.

By the time I was done, the other girl had laid out the diapers on the nearby table.

I was well past the point of no return. Clutching the towel to my chest, not that I had much modesty when I was about to splay my legs for the two research girls, I stepped over to the changing table.

I was really doing this. Letting myself get diapered, just for the sake of keeping Blaire from being the center of attention later. And if I wanted these girls to respect me after this, I needed to act just as calm and nonchalant as they were about everything. Like I was at the doctor, or whatever, instead of letting two peers see me like this.

So, after taking a quiet breath to steel myself, I pushed myself up and sat on the diapers, willing myself not to blush and preparing myself to be taped up in the protective padding.

Read more of “The Presentation” (5+ parts) and other exclusive stories on my SubscribeStar!