A Sissy's Progress - Chapter Twenty-One

"Ooh, you do like your plugs, don't you, baby?" Mommy is exulting over me now, gazing down into my mute, pacified face with dancing eyes. "That reminds me - I really should have given you one during your last change! We're having a special night, after all, and I'm sure you'd love to avoid making an absolute stinky mess of yourself..."

She giggles, a trifle sadistically. "Well, far too late for that, I guess! I guess you'll just have to hold it if you want... or if you even can, you silly baby." Oh, great. I blush and lower my eyes, unwilling to let her see the sudden anxiety welling within me. She wants the story done by tonight. We're doing something special... Are we going to have company or something?

Not that I'll get answers out of her. But as I shift uncomfortably in my sodden diapers, stomach gurgling ominously, deep down I sense that Mommy has something truly evil in the works for tonight. Something beyond my feeble imagining, and even worse, entirely and wholly inevitable.

Sometimes, I reflect sourly, it's just better to ignore the freight train barreling toward you. Especially when you're essentially bound and gagged on the tracks before it like some hapless heroine. Or in my case, a crawling, mute, and wide-eyed baby desperate to regain any semblance of adulthood...

***

It would have taken an absolute fool to think that all the changes Erica's tender ministrations had wrought upon me would go unnoticed by others. To any one of my coworkers who cared to notice, there must have been dozens of signs. The sudden drop in my bathroom use, for instance. The subtle, bulky curve of my rear. A stray whiff of powder, or maybe even of something rather less pleasant. My altered lunches, which now featured far more applesauce, pudding, and milk than ever before.

Yeah. I was that absolute fool.

Now that I think of it, I'm genuinely surprised they didn't say something earlier. We'd had company over sometime in January, I think it was; my wife's friend Nina and her girlfriend had come by for supper, and while at the time I'd flattered myself that they hadn't noticed anything, I'd also happened to overhear my wife conversing with her the very next day. "Yeah, of course he is," she'd laughed. "I know, right? What else am I supposed to do with a little boy who likes to wet his pants, huh?"

Ehh, I'd figured. Nina had already seen me at my worst that Halloween night. And I guess it did make sense that she might have followed up with Erica. But hey! There wasn't much else to do but ignore it and do my best to tell myself that no one else had any reason to suspect anything...

Nothing like lulling yourself into a false sense of security to make the wake-up call that much more terrifying.

"Umm, Shane. Can you, do you, like, have a minute to talk?" It was Marissa from HR, peering over her thick glasses at me. I'd been in the middle of a complex FOR loop, and it took a moment for me to collect my wits. "Umm, yeah. Like, now?" "Yes. If it's not too much trouble, that is."

It wasn't. But I was certainly in for a nasty shock once the door to her office closed behind us.

"So, there's no really elegant way to go about this," Marissa began, shuffling a few papers in what I might have seen as nervousness if I didn't know her better. "But you see, someone in the office mentioned that I should check with you, and, well, I think it's only fair that I do so and hear what you have to say." I nodded, gulped, felt my heart quicken pace.

"Are you having any medical issues that you'd like us to be aware of, Shane?"

I flushed, feeling the already-wet padding beneath me crinkle as if to betray my secret. "Um, well, what- Is there- I mean, no, I haven't been to a doctor lately-" "Really? I see." There was an odd note in Marissa's voice. "The reason I ask is... Well, Shane. I certainly don't wish to pry into any of your  personal affairs, and I definitely don't ask that you tell me anything you'd rather not. But it's also my job to ensure that everyone here is well taken care of mentally and physically." She emitted a tiny sigh and blinked solemnly at me through those Coke-bottle glasses of hers. "So I want to give you the opportunity to tell me - in strict confidence, of course - if there's any way we can be more accommodating..."

I finally found my voice. "Is there, um, any reason you think I- you know, I might need some special accommodation? Did Jerry complain about my, my work or anything?" Marissa gave a short laugh. "Oh, of course not, Shane! Your boss is quite happy with your work, judging by last quarter's performance review. No, it's just that-"

She sighed again. "Okay, I think I can say this without violating any confidentiality. It appears that one of your coworkers noticed something about your, erm, behavior and dress, and they mentioned to me - again, completely confidentially - that they thought you might be having some, ahem, issues with incontinence."

I'd like to think that I kept a poker face, or at least that I managed to give a solid impression of incredulous and slightly offended amazement. "Oh, um, wow. Wow! That's just- I mean-" But she continued hastily. "Now it's not my business to know one way or another, Shane. But I do want you to know that we will certainly not discriminate against you in any way. Further, if you should experience any harassment or discrimination from your coworkers, I would ask that you report that to my office immediately, okay?"

I nodded, suddenly conscious of my scarlet cheeks and galloping heartbeat. "I- um, yeah. Sure. Thanks." Keenly aware that the lack of denial on my part was itself incriminating, I stuttered out whatever polite nothings I could in order to end this embarrassing interview. And all the while, my brain was racing, trying to think of who might have ratted me out- who could have known-

It didn't take too long to find out. For it wasn't more than a few days later that I received a carefully worded email from Suri in marketing. I can't quote it by heart, of course, but what follows is pretty damn close to it. After all, it pretty nearly seared itself into my brain...

Hi Shane,

Sorry to say this in an email, but I think it will be less awkward. I just wanted to say that I know you spoke with Marissa last week, and I'm the one you have to thank for that. I really hope it wasn't too embarrassing or that I was out of place! I've just happened to notice that you've been wearing some rather unusual clothes for quite a few weeks now, and I wanted to make sure you were doing okay and had all you need from HR. Again, I'm so sorry if I was wrong or out of place. No need to reply - I just wanted you to know.

Sincerely, Suri

P.S. I promise I'm not creeping on you! It's just that I have two toddlers and I know what that sort of thing looks like. :-)

Well, fuck. So much for nobody else knowing what a soggy, pissy-pants dude I was becoming. Of course I didn't tell Erica; she would only have laughed and told me that it didn't matter anyway. But it did make things pretty interesting whenever Suri and I happened to cross paths... After all, it's pretty tough not to blush when you know full well that your attractive female coworker knows exactly what sort of crinkly, embarrassing underwear you're rocking...