Ruffled

Fighting the tears that welled in her eyes, Vanessa looked down at herself. She looked down at her skirt.

Despite the nice cut, the ruffled pink miniskirt she was dressed in had been too revealing for Elly. Vanessa hadn't really approved of it when she purchased it; but she had snuck on worse clothing at her daughter's age, and Elly had been determined at the time. Maybe the teenager had been trying to fit in with other girls at school. Maybe she had been trying show off to James. Vanessa had never gotten the full story. What she did know was that an embarrassed Elly had worn it maybe twice before deciding it wasn't 'her' after all.

So it languished, unused and forgotten. Until Brand had spotted it, and held it up to Nessie's naked waist. Naked in her daughter's bedroom, trying on her daughter's clothes. And if that particular skirt had been a little too short or too juvenile for a high school sophomore Elly, with slimmer hips and less butt than her mother, it was definitely both too short and juvenile for Vanessa in the office.

Of course Brand had loved it.

He had laughed at Nessie's struggle to put on the cute little thing, wiggling her ass and sucking in her stomach. Trying everything while he berated her, calling her names until a huffing and puffing Vanessa finally succeeded - on her back, at the edge of Elly's bed, with her heels thrust in the air. Still on her back, on the edge of her daughter's bed, Brand had stroked... s-stroked Nessie's bare pussy underneath her skirt and made her thank him. Thank her white daddy for allowing his 'little chimpy girl' to wear such fine clothing to the office. He had stroked and petted and patted her sex until the tortured ebony woman hiccuped her appreciation between gasps. He had brought Vanessa to the edge, made her beg for release, clutching the covers beneath her... then... then stopped.

No time he had claimed. Even though she was right there, so close, and begging. Begging fot it.

Nessie had to finish dressing.

Elly's skirt for a bottom, and Elly's button-up white shirt for a top. A shirt that would almost be workplace appropriate if it was accompanied by a jacket. If it wasn't far too small; with only its high quality giving some sense of security that her tits wouldn't bust out every time Vanessa breathed deep. And if she had been allowed a bra underneath, instead of the subtle silhouette of her dark aureolae and erect nipples revealed to any studying eyes.

Dressing had been the last thing that morning - after her miserable hosing, her naked pet breakfast, Brand brushing her teeth for her, doing her makeup for her...

Everything. A-anything.

Everything decided for her, or done for her. Any small thing that made her human.

For the first time, they had arrived at the office on time. With plenty of lookers. Plenty of studying eyes.

Male eyes. Female eyes. Men and women and...

And younger women, looking at her. Looking at her body. Looking down on her. Younger women, younger...

Girls.

The humiliated black woman's march, with Brand's hand occasionally touching or prompting her marching ass, had been accompanied by smirks and eye rolls. Lingering looks. Glances that were more than they appeared. Up-and-downs and sniffs of disdain.

Maybe Vanessa imagined some of it.

She definitely hadn't imagined the resigned look Cheryl gave her.

... But none of that, none of it, was why Vanessa wanted to cry at that moment. She could feel tears forming because... because before sending Nessie into her office Cheryl, Miss Cheryl, had broken down her day for her. Trying to accommodate her, Miss Cheryl had made a schedule - a real schedule. She had handed to Vanessa in hard copy, and also sent in e-mail form. A schedule with breaks and lunch and prep time and a meeting... and check-ins.

PK check-ins.

It took Vanessa a moment to put the acronym together.

Peep or Keep check-ins. Formalized, written girly-peeper, panty-sniffer check-ins. Miss Cheryl had put it on the schedule, right there on her fucking schedule and Vanessa... it was beyond humiliating. Humiliation that was compounded and exacerbated by - she didn't understand it, what it did to her, but... but she was grateful that Miss Cheryl had structured her day. She was grateful even that... grateful especially that Cheryl had included Nessie's naughty peeps and keeps, her rewards, her incentives to - to focus on. Putting it all together must have taken time, and thought, and it was oh-so-completely wrong. Wrong, and viscerally humiliating, mortifying a-and... and...

And thoughtful.

That's what got her. What got her suppressing a sob. To her, in some sick way, some way she knew was sick, where she knew that she should feel differently but... it was thoughtful. Like a m-mommy. While Vanessa had been in the yard spraying out of her asshole and peeing out of her pee-hole, getting hosed and groomed and fed and dressed, Miss Cheryl... Mommy... had been working on her. Thinking of her. H-helping her.

All that, and poor, confused Vanessa's feelings were still further tangled, with still further appreciation and gratitude and aching, burning humiliation. A-arousing humiliation. Arousing humiliation by what Cheryl had left on top of her desk, in plain view. Nessie's private picture, the portrait of her secretary. A new protector covered Nessie's picture of Cheryl. A clean, unwrinkled, unsmudged plastic protector. And Miss Cheryl's panties had been cutely folded, placed on top of it, by her own hand. All ready for the morning. Cheryl had gone through her things a-and in doing so violated her, embarrassed her, but also spent the time to... she had...

Nessie didn't understand. The black woman didn't understand why Miss Cheryl had done that. Even more, she didn't understand her response. Her feelings. Not at all.

Vanessa quietly sniffled. She touched... she stroked the picture of Cheryl. Miss Cheryl's cheek, her hair, her neck -

"Thank you, Mommy..."

Nessie was sick. Sick. Sick because it felt good to say out loud. It was so wrong. It felt right. Completely wrong... but right. Miss Cheryl's picture - she could say it, say what she was thinking, feeling. She could... say...

Say what she wanted. She could touch. Touch Cheryl's hair. Brush Miss Cheryl's cheek with the edge of her thumb. Look into her eyes, hover close a-and...

Kiss.

Nessie couldn't help... she kissed Cheryl's lips hard, her own ape-lips mashing, mushing... sharing. She shared a fierce, passionate kiss with her secretary. A forbidden kiss that glowed from her lips to her tummy, that made her, for a moment, "Mmph!" ... Made her moan and squeal and b-bounce excitedly on her brown bottom like a little girl.

Naughty!

Vanessa froze, and almost dropped the picture of her white girl-crush. She took a shuddering breath. Squeezed her thighs together, pressed her palms together, fingers flat, and placed them between her thighs for another hard s-squeeze.

Naughty. Naughty Nessie.

Vanessa swallowed, and looked at her schedule, Cheryl's schedule for her. It... it told her. It had what she was supposed to be doing. She had a Peep or Keep break to think about. She could pull it together. Pull herself out of - she didnt have to drift away, drift off on fearful flashbacks of her and torment, her rapes and a-ape...

Cheryl. Nessie took a breath. She... she didn't have to get lost, overwhelmed by the maelstrom of... she could look at Cheryl's picture. Her picture and schedule and focus and stay on -

The door opened.

Cheryl.

Vanessa felt her heart leap into her throat.

"Thank you," Nessie blurted.

Cheryl paused - confused, barely through the door, a bundle - a stacked bundle in hand.

Oh, fuck. Nessie... she had practically jumped Cheryl, she...

"Um... thank you. For, um..." Vanessa gestured to... to the picture and the - "For my schedule and the, the c-clean... clean..." The clean picture, the schedule, the the folded panties, the...

The unclean picture. The soiled picture that she had already smudged, kissed. She hadn't even restrained herself for a moment.

The embarrassment threatened... acting fast, Nessie quickly slid the panties along the desk, positioning them, concealing the obvious red smudge she had left on the brand new plastic protector. The lipstick she had left behind, the kiss she had stolen.

Cheryl looked. Looked on while Nessie touched her panties. Moved them. She arched a perfect eyebrow while Vanessa...

S-stupid!

Nessie jerked her hand away, and... and clenched her damned hand into a fist, the naughty hand that had touched Cheryl's panties. Miss Cheryl would think... Vanessa grabbed her skirt tight under her desk, holding on, holding it to guard against the almost overpowering urge to slap her own stupid nigger face. She was so...!

"Thank you," Nessie repeated, eyes downcast, blushing hard beneath her dark skin.

"Ah." Cheryl blinked. She shook her head, and...

Ignored. "So, anyway." Cheryl paused, and glanced at the door.

She locked it.

"Yesterday."

Nessie's hand, still clenched under the desk, opened. Her nails traced her thigh.

"Yesterday brought to light a lot of concerns." Miss Cheryl spoke softly, looking at the wood door, eyes fixed upwards, on the top of the frame. "For me."

... Before she turned her body, shifting her stance and tone and looked directly at Vanessa, "About you."

Nessie gripped and twisted the strong muscle of her thigh. She nodded, n-nodded.

But, "M-Miss Cheryl..."

Cheryl turned from the door.

Vanessa had her schedule, her peeps. She... she would- "Miss Thomas - "

Confident, cool steps brought Cheryl towards...

Confident hazel eyes scanned and saw...

"Don't touch yourself when I'm in the room, Vanessa."

Nessie immediately, guiltily, snatched her hand away, put it on top of the desk even though she hadn't -

She wouldn't just m-masturbate, like...!

"I'm not..." Nessie croaked.

The negress held up her hand. "S-see? It's not..." Wet. Slick with... Vanessa waggled her fingers.

"Not, um... mess." M-messy.

Cheryl held up a hand, palm out, stopping the older woman. Shutting her up. "Please stand up and come here, Vanessa."

Vanessa suppressed a nervous urge to rub her knees, where to put her hands where they couldn't be seen. She... she opened her mouth...

And Cheryl gave her a look. A look that made Nessie's bottom tingle from remembered spankings. A hard eye that got Nessie out of her desk, in front of her desk without a word of backtalk.

Nessie stood nervously, quietly, while Cheryl took a last step, into her space. She stood until she squeaked, until her secretary set her bundle on Nessie's desk, grabbed Vanessa's shoulder and unceremoniously turned her boss, twisted Vanessa's waist a quarter turn and l-looked! Peered, searching, beneath the mound of Nessie's butt, looking for -

"... A wet spot." Cheryl accused.

Oh... hell.

Miss Cheryl let Vanessa's shoulder go, let the black woman recoil, and unconsciously wiped her perfectly clean hand on her smart charcoal pencil skirt.

"A wet spot." Cheryl repeated. "The day has barely started, Vanessa."

Oh... f-fu-...

If she had been sitting, Nessie was positive the damning little wet spot marking her arousal would surely have become a puddle.

Nessie nodded. Bit her lip and stared at her toes and suppressed a groan and nodded. She saw, felt, her brown toes in their open-toed heels tense and clench - just like the rest of her body was doing.

"Jennifer said you had this same problem yesterday, when you visited her. Sitting in her chair."

Her chair. Nessie...

"She said you soaked right through the newspaper she laid down for you. She had some very awkward comments from visitors about the smell afterwards."

For a moment Vanessa was under a desk, Jenny's desk, her pinch-shut cunt-sucking lips whining silently as Miss Jenny commented to her guest -

"That's all true, isn't it Nessie?"

Nessie shuffled, shuffled her feet. Vanessa squeezed her eyes shut. Jenny might have sabotaged her, her into kissing a-and... and licking but... Vanessa just nodded. Bobbed her shame-filled darkie face in agreement. "Y-yes." She resisted the urge to pinch her lips shut all over again. "Yes, Miss Thomas." She had more. More to say. It wasn't just her. Jenny...

"Mmm..."

She couldn't explain. Say what Jenny did, what she and Jenny had done. Maybe Cheryl knew anyway. Maybe she'd laugh, or yell. And... Vanessa just couldn't. She...

"It's going to get worse, isn't it Nessie?" Miss Cheryl asked. She asked seriously. Sympathetically. She asked softly, and knuckled Nessie's chin, forcing her brown eyes up.

Vanessa... between her legs, it was already worse.

Vanessa nodded truthfully. Nodded her chin on Cheryl's knuckle.

A pause, and Cheryl spoke, "... I don't think panties would be much help," Spoke slowly, her tone thoughtful and measured. "The day has barely begun, and you're already soaked through. A pad might help with all the..." For the first time since entering the younger woman cracked a smile, smirked, and she made no effort to conceal it, "... A heavy pad."

"But the smell?" Cheryl recovered her serious tone, and mostly recovered her serious face.

Nessie was dying. Fucking dying, whirling and... heart beating, palms sweating, she... Cheryl... Cheryl couldn't...

"The unplanned urinations?" Oh! "I know that's been a problem at home, and it was almost a problem yesterday at the office." Nessie wilted, shrunk even lower. She was the lowest. The...

"The uncontrollable self-stimulation."

Mnn!

"I hesitated to bring this up, but going over it, looking at..." Cheryl gestured to Vanessa, the whole person of Vanessa.

"I bought some things, just in case you need them."

Cheryl went around Vanessa, removed the smaller items from on top of the stack she had brought in, and ripped open a perforation of the biggest plastic-wrapped package.

"I think you need them."

Something white, thick, flat, and vaguely triangular was extracted, held up in plain view.

Vanessa recognized it almost immediately.

"It's the only way, Nessie. Vanessa."

Despite being scaled far beyond any Vanessa had seen before, the oversized diaper was unmistakable.

"It's for the best, Vanessa." Cheryl assured her horrified boss.

Setting the diaper, the fucking d-diaper, back down, on top of its packaging, Cheryl began clearing space on Vanessa's desk. She cleared a changing area while a slack-jawed Vanessa did nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Said nothing, even when Cheryl picked her yesterday's panties up and saw her defiled, smooch-tainted portrait.

Cheryl placed the panties back, again concealing Nessie's forbidden kiss without a word, with barely a shift in expression.

The simple act sucked any remaining fight out of Vanessa. The protest trying to gain traction in her addled little brain slipped away.

"Come on. Over the desk." Cheryl rubbed, and patted the spot she had cleared.

Nessie didn't move on her own. She couldn't move until a slender white hand prompted her, guided her... supported her. Turned her, and bent her. Folded her at the waist, down... down over her desk. All the way, until Nessie's hot cheek rested on cool wood. With her in place, the same guiding hand stroked Vanessa's hair, scratched a little circle in her back while Vanessa... she let her weight go. She settled, settled and breathed. Breathed and filled her belly... her chest... her body rose, and her exhale released... and she sank. Rising, falling. Nessie couldn't look. She turned her head towards her monitor. She faced away from the crinkling noise. The big diaper.

"Hold still."

Hold...?

"Ahh! M-Miss - !" Cheryl! Shit!

Vanessa - without further warning, Cheryl lifted Nessie's skirt, lifted it right over her bare black bottom.

Vanessa was exposed.

Totally exposed to her forbidden, unreciprocated crush. Her round butt - naked. Her wet... her hairy...

"That's... wow." Cheryl swallowed audibly, voice tight with her struggle to avoid passing air through her nose. "That's a lot. That's... ah, I need..."

There was another plastic-y crinkling sound beside her. Oh, god. Vanessa -

"This... might be a little cold."

Nessie gasped.

Her legs quivered.

A teeny eep! of almost orgasmic humiliation escaped Vanessa's lips. A cool wet wipe, guided by Cheryl's hand quickly, professionally, wiped her slit from front to back.

"Eew," Cheryl laughed uncomfortably.

"Ah, sorry."

Vanessa's brain was all foggy. She slowly, her tongue heavy in her mouth, she... "It's..." Nessie whispered, and licked her plump lips.

It's...?

A wet plop hit the inside of the office wastebasket.

Nessie shut her bimbo monkey mouth. She swallowed, and stayed shut-up, and waited while the sound of another wet wipe being pulled made her tense in anticipation. Made her toes curl, and her heels turn outwards. Made her cheeks hollow and her thick lips press into an 'O'.

Nessie gasped. Her already foggy brain turned to complete mush as Miss Cheryl took a second pass along her dark, engorged labia. M-Momm- ... Miss... folded... folded, and pressed, all the way up, all the way along and past her hole, stopping just below her anus.

Nessie quivered, she flexed her knees and lowered her butt and -

"Uck!"

Whap!

"Mmp-!" Nessie squealed and t-twitched and squ-ee-eezed as sudden, sharp pain stung her naked buttcheeks.

"No humps!" Cheryl stated sternly.

S-

Whap!

Sorry!

"No, Nessie!"

S- "S-sorr-" Vanessa hiccuped. She didn't... wasn't...

Miss Cheryl took in a breath. She - her hard fingernails brushed over the soft, sensitive mound of Nessie's injured bottom, almost apologetically... "Last one." She let the air out slowly.

"Almost there, okay?"

Nessie nodded, bottom lip and... and her other lips, both quivering. No... no h-hum-

Cheryl took a another breath, a deep breath.

"Hang in there." She might have been talking to herself, but she waited... waited until Vanessa swallowed past the lump in her throat. The black woman planted her feet. Tensed her calves and clenched her butt.

No humping Miss Cheryl, monkey. No...

"Oka-ay-a- ha!" Nessie's breath was stolen away by a sticky, wet sound as Cheryl spre-e-ead her. A thumb pressed and pulled the inside of Nessie's thigh outwards and f-fucking spread her pussy open and... the third wet wipe, brisk and hard, pressed and slid along the depths of her sickness. There was a brief pause as Cheryl folded to a clean side and a-a-almost yanked her open, spread her again even wider. Swiftly, clinically, Mommy wiped front to back, clit to open hole... around her hole, circling her. Cool, soothing moisture wiped up her hot, needy dampness.

"Good girl."

Nessie's face lips, drawn together into a perfect circle, they...

"Better."

Uoo-uoo

It was inaudible, except to herself.

Cheryl briskly wiped up the inside of Nessie's thighs.

Uoo

But she heard it in her ears, in her throat. She couldn't s-stop -

"All ready?"

A plastic crinkle.

Nessie shook her head.

Cheryl was really going to...

No. She shook her head, tried to think through the haze of lust and shame and ape...

N-no. No. No, Nessie wasn't 'all ready' to be swaddled, diapered under her short skirt. She wasn't a peeing, cumming little girl. She was a grown... professional... sh-she wasn't ready. She wasn't! She -

"Mommy's almost done." Cheryl's voice held a little smile.

Vanessa swallowed.

Cheryl didn't. She couldn't have. Wouldn't say...

M-Mommy.

Vanessa melted.

Mommy.

Ff-

Vanessa spread her legs.

Fuck. Nessie swallowed, and spread her legs, and thrust out her butt, and a big, thick pad was guided... and nestled right in the negress's puffy, hairy crotch.

Light pressure, padding, pressed against Vanessa's sex. Cheryl slid her hand between her boss's thighs, curling the front flap upwards until it was matted Nessie's pubic hair, was flush with her tummy.

"Hold."

A single word ordered Vanessa. The dazed negress reached down and held the large, dangling front flap in place herself. With her fingers spread wide, she pressed it against her thick pubic hairs and queasy, tight stomach. She accommodated Cheryl, facilitated... Mommy... in diapering her. Vanessa held, and felt the back wrap warmly around her buttocks, felt Cheryl tug it snug. Dexterous fingers joined the sides together, one at a time - her secretary stuck each side tab tight, tight on her, tightly hugging her waist. Firmly and gently enveloping her crotch and butt and hips.

Firmly, and gently. She got wrapped up.

Nessie was fully diapered.

"There's a girl," Cheryl patted, p-patted Nessie's diapered bottom. With the protection, the thick padding acting as a physical and mental barrier between her hand and Vanessa's bare cheeks, Miss Cheryl gave her boss's black butt a big-girl pat of approval.

"Up you go. Almost there."

Mommy helped lift Vanessa to a standing position. Turned her. She held up...

Panties. Not any kind of normal panties. Plastic...

"There's a couple styles. I wasn't sure which kind to buy. Which kind you'd like." Like?! Nessie wouldn't like...! "These ones kind of match your skirt, though, don't they?"

Nessie was diapered. She was diapered. She didn't... she wasn't...

She... nodded her head.

She helped Cheryl... Mommy... by stepping into her plastic panties. Where her smooth thighs thickened, the elastic edges tightened into a nice seal. A practical seal, keeping her smell in where it wouldn't...

Vanessa remembered her embarrassment. Jenny smelling her around the corner. Being spied on. Stalked. Looked down on.

Maybe Cheryl... maybe Mommy was right.

Nessie looked down at the mound of her plastic panties.

They had ruffles. Miss Cheryl put her in ruffled plastic panties that enclosed Nessie's diaper.

"Well..." Miss Cheryl tugged Vanessa's skirt down as far as it would go, and smoothed the sides for her. The plastic protection underneath crinkled audibly. "It's a little noticeable."

Vanessa could only imagine a world where her bulging undergarments were a 'little' anything.

"... But it's kind of adorable how the panties match your skirt." Cheryl smirked. "Much cuter at least than running around bare like some kind of monkey."

Vanessa choked. Fucking choked. No way had Cheryl just called her a...

Monkey - without batting an eye.

A newly breathless Vanessa struggled to recover, stomach twisting painfully while Cheryl simply eyed her boss's absurd, bulging pantyline. Smoothing Nessie's skirt once more, touching the diapered black woman's thighs... her hips, Cheryl tugged the skirt into place.

Taking a step back, Miss Thomas frowned in thought. She stared at Vanessa's crotch while the black woman waited, and placed her chin in hand, tapping a single finger along her jaw. Finally she nodded, seemingly satisfied.

"Much safer, too."