A New Slant

Vanessa studied the hard oak, the grain of wood inside her office door.

Waiting.

Vanessa waited for the minute to turn. Her schedule had times printed, clear times. If she followed them... her schedule had carried her past Brand's observations, through showing off her diaper, through her work.

Something that two hours ago Vanessa hadnt even known existed had become an anchor. A comfort. Until now. It was telling her to go outside the safety of her office, to where she might be seen by others. Seen wearing...

Vanessa pulled and smoothed the lumpy sides and front of her daughter's skirt as best she could and... and before going out, before... Cheryl, Vanessa rearranged her poofy, natural hair; brushing it and fluffing it with her nails.

... As if Miss Cheryl cared how Vanessa's hair looked after what she had seen out of her boss the past week. Her bimbo boss bent over, spanked, crying, cum-plastered, shaking her fat black ass, blubbering and whining, wailing and moaning and fucked and-and-

Just inside her office doorway, Vanessa stomped her foot. She squeezed her eyes shut, and with her nostrils flared balled her fists until long nails dug in, painfully interrupting her downward spiral.

Stop.

Stop. S- Vanessa... stopped. She had a schedule. Her schedule. She stopped. Vanessa smoothed her deformed skirt for what she promised herself was the final time. She fluffed and rearranged her hair. Last time. Last time. Go. Like plunging into cold water, she had to - just go. And like plunging into water Nessie took a deep breath. She held it in, and closed her eyes, and swung her heavy office door inwards and stepped -

"Oh!" A surprised female voice squeaked.

"Oop!" Vanessa grunted, her eyes opening to the sight of stumbling, straight, silky black hair.

"Um, sorry," The same voice apologized to the black woman who had stepped blindly into the hallway, nearly plowing her over. "Sorry."

Nessie swallowed. Focused. She had heard that reflexive apology before, spoken with the exact same inflection.

She had definitely heard that habitual, nervous 'Um' before. She had heard it huddled under a desk, her cunt-sucking lips pinched shut. She was face-to-face with...

Her eyes focused, and stared - wide and brown. The visitor to Jenny's office from the previous day was shorter than Nessie. She was clearly young, with pretty East-Asian features, and she was apologizing even while struggling to prevent a dangerously hot lemon-smelling beverage from tipping.

Lemon.

"Vanessa..." Cheryl sighed.

"Thank you so much for the tea, Hannah."

Cheryl's tea. This girl, Hannah, the same one who had interrupted Vanessa at Jenny's, the same girl... what was she doing with Cheryl? What was going on? Why...?

"It's no problem, Miss Thomas," Hannah responded, her equilibrium recovered.

'Miss Thomas'. Only Vanessa called Cheryl that.

Just Vanessa.

Hannah... Vanessa mouthed silently as the girl turned away. Turned, and while Nessie's mind turned on how and why Hannah had popped up again, Vanessa eyed Miss Cheryl, resentfully noting her satisfied expression, her lips moving - thanking Hannah in slow motion. Vanessa could have gotten her tea. Nessie unconsciously smoothed the front of her skirt over her -

Crinkle

Vanessa snatched her hands away from the front of her skirt - from her crotch, and glanced again Cheryl's way. Hoping, hoping Miss Thomas hadn't seen her touching her... h-her private area.

It wasn't Miss Thomas' eyes on Vanessa, though. Cheryl was either ignoring Nessie or hadn't noticed. Eyes closed, she blew lightly on her tea.

It was Hannah looking at Vanessa. The Asian girl practically stared at where Nessie's hand had brushed her... her indiscreet, bulging, crinkly -

"Copies?" Cheryl asked.

Huh? Oh. "Y-yes." Copies. Her schedule. "Yes, Miss..."

Miss...

Miss Thomas. Vanessa swallowed. Not 'Miss', not now, not... the Asian girl, the... Hannah...

Curious almond-shaped eyes looked at the black woman. They looked away, pretending to be busy elsewhere, but sure enough they flicked back a moment later. They were back to touch her long legs a-and -

"Here." Cheryl slid a thick folder across her desk.

"You're sure you'll be okay making copies?" Cheryl slid Vanessa's assignment further in her direction, until the corner hung iff the desk. A prompt.

Vanessa flushed.

Her assignment.

"You've done it before?"

The all-too-sincere doubt in Cheryl's voice made Vanessa's face heat up further. But even if it had been years, she stood her ground.

"Yes," Vanessa's voice stumbled only slightly as she held on to her 'Miss Thomas'.

"Yes," She repeated, stronger. She straightened and -

Cheryl smiled. At her. Vanessa. Vanessa - back straight, shoulders square, gave her best, "Yes, Miss Thomas. It's no problem."

... Dammit. Vanessa blushed, avoiding Hannah's eyes. Her fingers played with the hem of her skirt. 'Miss Thomas'. One smile from Cheryl, and it just slipped out.

"Okay." Cheryl smiled again. "The department code is 4481. And you know where the copier is?"

Nessie blinked.

448... a code?

"The specifications are on the cover letter."

"Umm..."

She did know where the closest copy room was. Of course she did. But...

Um.

"It was kind of complicated at first," Hannah broke in, reading Vanessa's silence.

"The, uh, the copier, I mean."

Great.

"I-I thought it was complicated, at least. For me, it was complicated. But, um, I got some help and its not bad once you know, like, the menus. The options, and what to ignore."

A pause.

"Do you... want me to help her? Miss Thomas?" Hannah looked to Cheryl, asked Cheryl, bypassing Vanessa altogether.

N-no. Vanessa could figure it out. No. "N-"

"That seems like a good idea," The seated white woman nodded from behind her desk. "As long as it's no trouble for you."

"It's not trouble." Hannah hastily, almost eagerly assured Cheryl. Why was she - "No trouble, I mean."

"Good," This time, Cheryl's smile was just for Hannah. "Isn't that good, Nessie?"

Nessie. Vanessa winced, and glowered at Hannah, looking for any sign of amusement. Of...

Not trusting herself to speak, backed into a corner, the underdressed negress nodded curtly. She took a quick stride toward Cheryl's desk causing Hannah, to Vanessa's petty satisfaction, to scoot out of her way for the second time or be bowled over. Nessie reached for -

Miss Cheryl instinctively held her shirt close as Nessie neared, hiding her modest cleavage from her boss's roaming eyes, her... Nessie hadn't even been looking! Not... not staring, at least. Not any more than -

The papers, folder, all of it flopped from Cheryl's desk to the floor, slipping right through Nessie's uncareful fingers. Her assignment scattered as it landed.

Cheryl sighed.

Vanessa squealed in consternation. N-no! That wasn't... flustered, she instinctively bent at the waist, sparing her aching, overused knees.

Crinkle

Oh...

Head down, ass in the air, inside Vanessa's tummy her guts churned. They twisted, hurting, as her too-short skirt, Elly's skirt, rode up - revealing to the other women crinkly, ruffled plastic undies and her ill-concealed, bulging adult diaper all in one go.

"Vanessa!" Cheryl's harsh whisper struck Nessie like a whip - straightening her back in a flash and causing a second tumble of what few papers she had started to gather.

"H-here," Hannah offered, and kneeled down, forcing Vanessa to the side as she gathered the papers Vanessa had dropped. She recovered the assignment while Nessie stood awkwardly, uselessly, just trying to keep her confounded plastic panties from bunching and sliding down as she tugged her skirt into place. And while she shimmied and held and smoothed, Vanessa caught the girl staring at her long legs, her bulging crotch. Hannah appeared unable to take her eyes off, staring at Vanessa's exposure with a peculiar mix of professional horror and amused astonishment.

"... Thank you, Hannah." Cheryl breathed, relaxing as Hannah rose quietly to her feet.

The low buzz of jealousy in Vanessa's tummy, in her loins, flared into a white-hot stab.

Pretty, slanted black eyes looked into Vanessa's as Hannah straightened, then offered the black woman the papers she had dropped.

Vanessa met Hannah's gaze evenly. Very coolly, she took the papers from Hannah's hands. She, very calmly, moving slowly, finished tugging her skirt over her dia-

Crinkle

Her diaper.

Cheryl's eyes were back on her computer. Without question this time, deliberately ignoring. Fuck, that... it...

"Come on," Hannah whispered. "This way," She insisted. As if Vanessa needed -

Nessie's next thought evaporated as a warm, soft hand found hers, and pulled.

"Oh..." Nessie grunted softly, almost losing her papers again.

Hannah led. She led Vanessa down the hallway, around the turn, making Nessie keep up - papers folded over her bouncing breasts while the young Asian intern led her away by hand.

... What? What was she...? No.

"W-" Wait, Vanessa started to say.

Started, and stopped, as another woman, a half-familiar woman with iron hair, rounded a nearby corner and gave the two bumbling, joined colored women a-

A look.

A look. And with a witness to her humiliation, Vanessa's words - telling Hannah to slow down, to stop... Vanessa couldnt say them. Couldn't make a scene, risk another look, another...

And she didn't want to, shouldn't have to ask for her own fucking hand back.

Vanessa reversed her momentum. She planted her feet and tugged back on her hand, on Hannah's hand. And without really meaning to, she sent the smaller woman reeling - tumbling hard this time. Hannah had to catch herself on the wall before she hit the ground.

"Hey!" Hannah frowned, pouted, hands on her slim hips.

Vanessa frowned back.

"What is your problem?!"

Her problem?!

After all her embarrassment... did Hannah not...? The silly, spying - she had seen, had looked at, and... Vanessa's eyes narrowed.

"Keep your fucking voice down!" Nessie growled, flushing. Looking over her shoulder at the retreating figure. Hannah had practically shouted - and Vanessa, dressed like... if attention got on her... Jesus!

She looked back and saw fear. Hannah looked afraid.

Fear of her. Of Vanessa.

Vanessa saw vulnerability.

Something snapped.

Vanessa felt her lips move.

"You little Asian cunt."

She didn't mean to say that. But it didn't matter.

"Do you have any idea who you are talking to? Who do you think you are?"

In a flash, some... heat possessed her. Vanessa's heart pumped it. Heat. Blood. Vanessa saw it, felt it build behind her eyes. Red.

With a target acquired, dammed emotions burst out. Anger. The helplessness, damnable helplessness that had kept her - it was gone. Finally, someone more helpless, someone that couldn't... rage that had been building, rage that Vanessa... dazed - her barking, her anal spraying, her nigger, her sucking, fucking, her Elly, h-her, "... Seen you skulking, hiding. Gossiping and simpering, a nervous little mouse putting your fat nose..." Vanessa's voice was low, a harsh growl just for Hannah; a contained, quiet hiss of raw pain. Hardly knowing what she was saying, a free flow of...

Hannah's head was down, her eyes hidden and downcast. Hidden away behind her bangs, behind her silky black hair, Hannah's shoulders shook in a single, quick sob.

The jerking motion of Hannah's small sob caught Vanessa's eye.

Oh, hell.

The black woman finally shut her big, flapping lips.

Oh, hell, Nessie.

Tears swelled in Vanessa's eyes, cooling the red heat. As quickly as it had come, it left.

"I do know who you are," Hannah muttered softly behind her bangs; her face hidden by a fringe of smooth, black hair.

Who she was? She was a mess.

She was trembling, drained. Ashamed. The withdrawl of her adrenaline left her... Vanessa reached out and rested one apologetic hand on Hannah's shoulder -

Crack!

Vanessa's hand never reached its target.

The backhand came out of nowhere.

Nessie found herself clutching her wrist, as much in surprise as injury. Hannah's eyes flashed up - dark. Smoldering.

"I know who you are. You're Elaine's mom. And I've seen you around, too."

You're Elaine's mom.

Papers hit the floor, along with Vanessa's stomach. Elaine.

Impossible. No. How?

"Miss-Perfect, the 'model minority' girl at our school." Hannah laughed bitterly. "Not me. Her. My mother actually said that. Thinks like that. 'Model minority'. Never mind the other girls. She... my mom..."

Vanessa opened her mouth. Elly -

Whap!

Vanessa's head jerked to the side, her cheek on fire from a full- blow right in the... right in the hallway. In plain sight.

"Don't you dare, you... bully! You leaky, banged-up, s-suh-slutty...!" Hannah sobbed while Vanessa, slack-jawed, clutched her cheek.

"Look at you. You were suh-sup-p-posed to help! My Mom told me to... instead I find... and you push and push and yell and-and, and look at you!"

Hannah took a step forward, flexing her hand. Vanessa flinched, backed up, eyes half closed, raised her hands -

And squeezed her thighs together as her skirt was yanked up around her waist, exposing her.

"Look at you!"

Her thighs.

"Oh..." Hannah whispered.

Her diaper.

"Oh, um..." The teenager, the girl the same age as Vanessa's daughter, backed away.

Hannah looked around, her narrow eyes as wide as they would ever go...

Vanessa, pulling weakly, awkwardly on her contrary skirt, her uncooperative plastic overpanties followed Hannah's gaze.

A figure retreated.

Oh, god. Oh god! A figure down the hallway. Maybe more than one, Vanessa hadn't really gotten a good... she closed her eyes, wishing... go away. Maybe the entire office. Go away. Her stomach. Go away. Her stomach. Her... her...

Her stomach. Hannah opened her mouth, trying to say...

Elly's classmate. Hannah. Vanessa's stomach. Her bladder.

Her bladder went, spurted a tight, hard stream, an uncontrollable spray right into her diaper.

Vanessa mewled pathetically. Gasped, pussy twitching as urine gushed into the thick, soft pad between her thighs.

Hannah closed her mouth. Swallowed, and shuddered.

And watched. Hannah watched, knowing, seeing everything as Vanessa's diaper filled. She stared as Vanessa's diaper sank under the weight of her urine, swelled as it absorbed the hot yellow liquid, and watched Vanessa's shaking, useless hands pull on her skirt.

And Hannah knew Elly.

"I'm, um..." The young Asian girl swallowed.

Vanessa tugged one side down, but had to lift back up as her crinkly, ruffled plastic panties came down with her skirt.

"I'm..."

Crinkle

Hannah wrinkled her nose. "Jeez! I'm trying to say I'm... would you just..." The teenage girl gave up. Taking Vanessa's skirt in hand a second time, Hannah pulled it back into place, settling the fringe around Vanessa's thighs. The plastic panties came with it, dropping to Nessie's knees, then her ankles.

Vanessa looked down, at her fallen ruffled undergarment, mouth slack.

"Just carry them! Fix them somewhere... Uggh!" Hannah took a quick step towards the fallen papers, grabbing them in a huff. "I'll make the copies. You... you go get yourself..."

Hannah shook her head, and looked around. Blushing furiously, she gave Vanessa a parting, dirty look before scampering off, leaving Vanessa alone with a soiled diaper squishing between her thighs and pink plastic panties in her hand.

Vanessa felt faint. She felt...

Sh-shit. Shit, shit... Vanessa turned, and went another way. She went...

The bathroom wasn't far. It wasn't the executive bathroom, but it would do.

Vanessa poked her head in. Empty. A stall. Empty.

She needed to clean up her diaper. Rearrange her panties. Maybe, if she soaked up enough pee with toilet paper, put the ruffled plastic panties over it sealed tight to mask the smell, Cheryl wouldn't notice. Maybe. But first... first, a different priority. One that couldn't wait any longer.

The African-American woman carefully kneeled over the toilet and promptly emptied her stomach.