Bryce’s Big Act in The Diaper Dimension: Chap 1

This is an older, unpublished story which I'm reworking into a much better idea than the original was. It has a lot of room for suggestions for side-characters, and around Chapter 2 I hope that the theme becomes obvious, so that people can suggest ideas for what they'd like to see. :)

Clicking the post title to view it directly can make the pictures and text area a bit bigger on desktop.

For a minor spoiler - the story doesn't start in the diaper dimension, but is about a character going there.

Chapter 1 – The Outfit Makes The Woman 

"I'm of course willing to renegotiate my offer to, uh, steal you away from this place Miss Kemper."

Bryce twisted the contract to the side, and give him a look.

“This is your first time hiring an Operations Manager, isn’t it?”

“Correct,” he replied, his hand jittery as he pushed up his glasses again.

“And your expected delivery is that I’d align your facility towards similarly productive results, bringing the scientific staff to meet matching performance levels?”

“Well I, uh- Yes, that would be the expected delivery.”

Bryce frowned, and leaned back in the flimsy chair. The jungle was a hot quagmire behind her, and sweat was threatening to tickle places which would make her flinch and break the perfect poise. Her black lingerie would be fine, but would it show on her expensive white suit?

“The synergistic elements required to push the envelope, and bring about disruptive innovation, are not always as they initially seem. What would really come back to bite us here, for example, is losing the hotel on the other side of the island, which is an example of where I invest my efforts. It allows us to roll small equipment orders into larger shipments on a break-even asset; an asset which your facility doesn’t have, and which re-establishing would mean negative quarterly growth.”

Bryce sighed. “Let alone the lack of neural testers…”

She twisted about to redirect a trickle of sweat, and strummed her long, pale fingers on the round table.

“I can’t accept your offer. My employment is not for sale. None of the island is.”

He gulped, and nodded. With a shuffle, he began clacking his suitcase shut and working his chair back. Bryce decided that she was done, and stood to leave as well. He’d needed to learn this lesson.

“Thank you for your time then, Miss Kemper. And you’re right, I need to rethink things. Maybe I could buy you a drink some-”

A mosquito buzzed too close to her arm. Bryce squashed it before it could dare touch her.

“No, thank you. I’m much too busy.”

He blinked, and watched her flick away the bug. Her perfect white skirt-suit remained unblemished, and cast a stark contrast to the jungle behind her.

“Well, I can see that you have your own little quantum technology kingdom here.”

“Excuse me?”

But he was already stumbling away.

She watched him with cold eyes.

He’d probably thought that he could get by with handsome looks and a nice suit. Well, Bryce wasn’t some hapless damsel who -

The sound of a buggy entering the clearing broke her focus.

It pulled up beside the cafe, and her own parked car. Oh great, Owen.

“Hey!” he called, leaping from the vehicle.

He was dressed like he was going fishing. Why did she put up with him?

“Hey,” she replied, more subdued. “And it’s Miss Kemper, remember.”

He made a face, as if she was joking.

Damn. Her delivery still needed work. Perhaps that was why she kept him around.

He swaggered towards her. Of course, he was also kind of cute… But what sort of man wore shorts to office meetings?

“Please tell me you have something important, Owen. I’m very busy. There’s a blockage in the east pipeline.”

“Yep, came to tell you that the twins have agreed to the raise. They are getting back to work.”

She stood up straighter at that. Or perhaps it was just an excuse to pull her outfit tight.

“You brought them under control?”

“Hah, it’s all about control with you people. No, it’s a matter of establishing trust. Twins have a bond which makes them defensive, but on top of more money, tequila never hurts.”

Bryce rolled her eyes.

“I’m still not interested in your offer to try tequila, Mr Bradley.”

“No, of course not. You’re all about managing primal urges, the perfect suit, the perfect hair, the perfect air-conditioned gym routine, I can’t even imagine how long it’s been since -”

“The work, Mr Bradley.”

He pulled himself in at her narrowed eyes and fast-tapping high heel on the concrete.

“Yeah, well we got it done. It’s all hooked up to the cheaper power source as you instructed.”

Bryce nodded. She paused, then sniffed.

“Well, you should perhaps fight your primal urges and find a shower. But still, I suppose that means that the research breakthrough could come through at any mom-”

“Oh and the twins had to dig up some old picnic bench for the conduit. They said something about a time capsule underneath? Some personal pledges employees made to themselves during some self-improvement seminar you held at opening?”

Bryce went very stiff.

“They… What did they do with it?”

“Oh, they buried it nearby, said that it was just as good. We were all a bit drunk. It’s funny, we- Hey, Bryce, where are you going?”

“Work,” Bryce said, unlocking her car door without looking back, and slipping a white heel inside. “And it’s Miss Kemper, remember? That will be the last time Mr Bradley.”

She just hoped that the sweat hadn’t left any marks on the back of her suit, that would be very unprofessional. No, of course not, she was perfect.

She raised a shaky hand to the keys.

She’d worked too hard to achieve her place here, and that needed to be robustly maintained. Old reminders of thoughts she’d… gotten rid of… could not be allowed to resurface and distract her now. 

Things which would be far from perfect.

There was one more place she had to be before she dealt with the pipes and the twins.

---

Bryce tossed aside the shovel. Goodness, what a mess. Her perfect white skirt-suit was spotted with mud.

Still, she’d found it.

She shook the wooden box this way and that, then frowned, and dropped it on her apartment floor.

With a sharp jab of her high heels, she smashed it open.

There.

Bryce crouched down with a practiced dignity - keeping her knees together - and retrieved the USB stick.

Why had she let these files escape her big purge? To even consider that, maybe, after the five year anniversary of this facility, she might want these… fantasies back… Once she could afford a place to privately, and safely, dress up like-

Bryce scrunched her nose. No. She jammed the stick into her laptop, and let company Unix system boot.

She went to work with wet wipes, and wriggled herself into a spare skirt. In a moment she looked presentable with a bit of makeup and a few Hollywood tricks.

No, not Hollywood. Business school. That was her background. She’d most certainly never had a short, failed career as an actress, nor had used those techniques to turn her life around, acting as a full-time method to excise parts of herself which just weren't… acceptable to her… Faking her way into a high paying job...

Her computer dinged.

With a huff, she leaned over her desk and began tapping her fingernails on the touchpad.

Okay, she could do this.

She didn’t want these thoughts anymore. She was a serious career woman now. These were unsynergistic to that goal. She would never be like those people on the internet who were brave enough to dress up like… yuck! 

The files were right there. All she had to do was delete them.

Years of never finding the time to indulge in it had surely made that obvious, right? Yep, she would never, could never! The closest she’d once gotten was getting some white towels and budget safety pins...

She selected them all.

10,000 images, stories, videos, recordings, and more.

The filenames were… interesting. TheActress-sLittleFlowerDance.txt caught her eye.

She remembered that story. To even just imagine what it would be like to be... mixed up, and honestly considered to be-

She’d better make sure they were the right ones…

She hit the enter key.

There was a knock at her door.

“Miss Kemper? You needed a tow truck for your car somewhere in the jungle?”

Bryce frowned over her shoulder at the door. “Just a minute!”

She turned back to her screen.

And realized her mistake.

Ten thousand files were trying to open at once.

Her screen flooded with pictures of people, dressed up in… Oh god, no.

So many bulky… unmistakable…

diapers.

“Ohshit.” 

Bryce began clicking furiously to close the files. She didn’t look at these things ever! She had a policy!

“One moment! I’m very… busy right now!”

Her fingers slipped. She had to brush her orange fringe from her eyes.

What in the world had she been thinking, fantasizing like this? For so many years?

They were all being coddled, and hugged, and spoonfed, and lectured. Two were being spanked, and Bryce felt her knees tremble. What an undignified mess, what about self-respect?

There was a drawing of a group who seemed hypnotized, their mouths agape, drooling as they humped plush toys like dumb submissive sluts. Oh god, she was such a pervert. Why had she ever-

Gross gross gross! Look at how that woman was pretending that she’d - wait, she was poking her diaper as it sagged between her legs, it seemed almost like she’d… Would that even be hygienic? Well, she supposed that they were designed to be fairly- Oh geeze, the next image showed her on her back while somebody began to untape her diaper, could that mean- yuck.

Bryce had to look away. She stared at the ceiling, clicking furiously where the exiting X had been. She was a career woman now. Adults most certainly did not wear… or act like… or want to be treated like…

No, she had this under control. She shouldn’t panic. It wouldn’t be difficult to just close-

“Please don’t spank me Daddy!”

Bryce blinked. Her gaze whirled back to the screen, but whatever video had started was already behind newer images. She began clicking furiously to find it, and instead found herself gaping at a story about a woman who was sent to boarding school by her evil mother-in-law, who had forged her age as a single digit. The volume was quiet enough to not be heard outside, but if what she suspected-

WHACK!

Bryce nearly squealed as loud as the unfortunate woman in the video.

“I was bad Daddy!”

“Miss Kemper? Are you okay?”

She slammed her laptop lid shut, realizing that it had been the best solution all along. She squeezed her legs together and made a most unladylike mewling.

“I’m fine! I just... knocked a table.”

Dammit, her panties didn’t feel fine. They were fresh too. What if he barged in and checked her with his strong hands, tuting as he announced that he’d seen through her lies, and announced that he had a package of the thickest, crinkliest, adult-sized -

Bryce stumbled back from her laptop, and began clearing her min-

“Owe!” she cursed, rubbing her backside. Now she had really hit a table.

“Miss Kemper?”

“I’m fine!”

Of course, that would  sting far worse if he declared her a filthy, naughty brat, and announced that she would be going right over his knee for a-

Bryce took a deep breath and strode forward on stern heels. She ripped the data stick from her laptop, and jammed it into her pocket.

Stupid damn fantasies. They had no control over her. She’d learned to play her best and most successful self as a role, full-time, and she most certainly did not have a diaper fetish.

“Ok. I’m coming!”

She winced at the double-entendre, considering how close she’d gotten from just a few images after the year of successful, prideful repression.

That was it though, when she returned, she’d erase the stick without looking. Sure, it was a bit sad, but it was time to grow up, and accept that it wasn’t for her. It wasn’t like she would ever be caught wearing a big, dumb, crinkly, diap-

She caught herself. Okay that was the last time. Though, she’d had an Ultra BranBar for breakfast when rushing out, and the pressure was building, maybe it would be easier to just...

She wobbled in her heels, and caught her breath.

Okay, that was the last time. Now she was triply-sure of it. After today, she was going to have all reminders of diapers out of her life for good.