The Boss’s Bizarre Justice 1-3 final piece

The Boss’s Bizarre Justice

A while ago, I was at an all-time low. At 23 years old I’d got myself into a ridiculous amount of debt and could see no way out of my predicament. The flash clothes and the other expensive gifts I’d lavished on myself had fulfilled an ego-boosting need in me… but only for a short while. Now, I felt stupidly guilty about wasting so much money on stuff I didn’t need or want. I saw a short-term solution to my problems when I ‘borrowed’ some money from the works account. After all, although still only a junior, I was a trusted employee and had access to all manner of finances within the company and had convinced myself I could pay it back before anyone noticed.

Unfortunately, for me it was at a time when the firm was being audited and the boss re-checked the company accounts. The ‘missing’ amount was so obvious and so was the culprit. Consequently, to save a long process of denial I admitted what I’d done and the boss said he had no options but to fire me and call the police. I asked if there wasn’t an alternative as I was up to my eyes in debt and I couldn’t see another employer giving me a job if his references said that I’d embezzled from the company. I was desperate to keep my job and literally begged him to come up with an alternative to my being sacked.

Mr. Phanasious thought for a while and said there was an alternative… indeed, an old-fashioned cure for what I’d done. He said he was prepared not to fire me if I agreed to his suggestion. The money was to be paid back instantly and if I couldn’t do that, my wage would be garnished by 10% until the money was recovered. I agreed, as I knew that if he’d gone to the police I might have ended up with a record or even worse, sent to prison. I thanked him for being so understanding but he said that there was more.

I was unbelievably relieved I could keep my job so I agreed that I’d do anything before knowing what the conditions were. He was very stern when he informed me that the only reason he wouldn’t go to the police was on the requirement that I had to take six strokes with a cane across my bare bottom every night after work until the debt was paid. I was shocked. Even at school, I’d never received corporal punishment, my parents had never agreed with that form of chastisement either but now… well, I had little option, if this was the price I had to pay for my stupidity. Besides, when the alternative could mean prison, and what was said to go on in such places, I was probably getting off fairly easily.

I reluctantly agreed and hung around the office until everyone except Mr. Phanasious had left for the night. Once alone in his office he locked the door and told me to strip to just my underwear. I was nervous and apprehensive of what was about to happen. My Greek boss was a great deal bigger than me; six feet tall, hirsute and a body that any professional rugby player would be proud of… even if he was well into his 50s. He looked quite strong and more than capable of taking care of himself if anyone caused him any trouble. I was scared of what this powerfully built man could inflict on my body but, while almost naked and held in this older man’s gaze, strangely, I began to get aroused.

He walked up behind me carrying a cane he’d retrieved from a cupboard, pulled my y-fronts down to my knees, and began to fondle my arse, cock and balls. I immediately got even harder and a strange thrill ran through my body. He then ordered me to bend over the end of the desk. As I’ve said Mr. Phanasious is a big, tough, no-nonsense type of boss, I was at his mercy, and now, in this passive and vulnerable position, it was turning me on. Then I felt the first sting as he bought the cane down across my arse cheeks. I screamed blue murder as I hadn’t expected it to hurt so much or to be delivered with such force. After six cruel agonizing swats, which brought tears to my eyes, I wasn’t turned on any longer. However, as I raised myself up and rubbed my flaming backside he told me my punishment hadn’t finished.

I was ordered to lie out on his desk, which wasn’t as easy as it sounded because the recently delivered stripes across my bum cheeks were very painful. He helped by pulling off my underpants and once I was embarrassingly naked he pointed to my still semi hard cock and said that just wouldn’t do. He seemed angry that I’d got excited and put the second part of his plan into position. From his desk draw he took out a thick piece of what looked like towel fabric and folded it and placed it under my sore bum. He then told me that from now on, I was no longer the office ‘junior’ but the office’ baby’ and should be dressed as such whenever I was at work. He would check both when I arrived and before I left to make sure I was keeping to my side of the arrangement. He made it quite clear that if, for any reason I didn’t like this, or that I didn’t comply, he would quite happily hand me over to the police to deal with.

With my arse on fire, he was quick to follow through with the second part of my punishment… although I was embarrassed at my position (laid out on his desk in a diaper) the thick soft padding had eased the pain a little and I began to appreciate this version of my boss’s rough justice.

As I pulled up my trousers over the bulky diaper he locked my underpants in cabinet and said that when the debt was paid I could retrieve them but until then, he expected me to comply with the new house rules. My movements were slow, as I was both in shock and negotiating the huge bulge in my pants and between my legs. He helped me to my feet and offered his hand to shake. Staring directly into my weepy eyes he asked if I understood what was now required of me. I nodded.

He wanted more. “Say it.”

My head was dealing with the painful and inflamed bottom but I knew, as his hand grasped mine, that I would have to confirm and agree to his demands.

“Sir, I know I’ve done wrong. I apologize and accept without question the condition for me to remain with the company. I will wear whatever the company deems appropriate and that my junior status has been reduced to that as… er… er…” I was finding it difficult to actually say the word, “…baby.”

He quickly shook and released my hand as if I’d been dismissed.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning bright and early for inspection,” he looked darkly at me, “Don’t even think about absconding or wearing anything under your trousers other than a diaper.”

He pointed his huge muscular finger at me. “That will remind you, every moment you are at this company what you have done, the shame you have brought on yourself and your family and… whilst you are here and on my time, you are no longer allowed use the bathroom. You will come to me when you need changing. Is all that understood?”

I said, “Yes sir,” and left his office.

On the way home, and with my sore arse and bulky reminder, I began to think it strange that he had this fabric diaper already in his draw. Had he known that I’d agree to his terms or, perhaps, there had been others who’d broken the rules in the past and this was how he chastised us all? Maybe there were others in the office who were also made to wear the same as I had to, though I’d never noticed.

It’s now the third month of my sentence and I seem to have hardly paid off any of my debt… but the punishment continues. Bizarrely, I’m beginning to love being the baby of this hulking brute of a man. Even though the caning and humiliation (I feel that everyone can tell I’m wearing a diaper to work even if they don’t know why) are painful I feel a connection, which of course may well be just in my head.

I had started to appear regularly at his office asking to be changed but he has now added a pair of plastic pants to my humiliation to hold my soaked diaper in longer. The constant rustle and crinkle as I move makes me shiver in embarrassment but I dare not say anything to any of the others in case they tell or think I got off lightly. They are a very loyal bunch of workers to the boss and he is very loyal to them. I’m sure if my transgression got out it would be them who were the trouble for me and not Mr. Phanasious.

The fact that he has taken the time to personally deal with my offense and offer his own style of bizarre justice, I feel privileged to have such a boss. In fact I’d say my whole personality, temperament and work performance has improved and although I no longer deal with actual money any more, my concentration level and productivity have certainly increased. On payday each month my salary is docked the agreed amount but with interest on my ‘agreed loan’, and the way things are going, I might never get to pay off my debt and besides, I quite like the diaper. I never take it off except when I have to receive my caning, which doesn’t seem quite so fierce these days. I even wear a diaper at home and where ever I go as a constant reminder of what I did and what now really matters… to respect people not things.

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Re: The Boss’s Bizarre Justice

:laugh: I love this new story more please?? 8)

Re: The Boss’s Bizarre Justice 1-2

The Boss’s Bizarre Justice 2

Mr. Phanasious keeps an ever watchful eye on everything that I do. I suppose I can’t blame him but I really feel he needn’t bother, I am a reformed character. He’s made sure of that.

However, over the past few weeks things have changed a tad. The daily ‘six-of-the-best’ with the cane has given way to twenty on one day of the week after work. He doesn’t tell me which day so that keeps me both on my toes and pretty apprehensive, meanwhile, the diapers are getting slightly bulkier and plastic pants definitely noisier.

He called me into his office late one Monday afternoon and told me of the alterations to my punishment. It was obvious that this change of play wasn’t open for discussion and that what he’d decided went. However, he did say that he had noticed a vast improvement in my attitude to work and was impressed by this dramatic change… then, as everyone else had gone home, delivered the twenty swats to my naked behind.

Once they were over (and I’m afraid to admit it but I was crying like a baby) he re-taped my disposable, added another and pulled a pair of thick, clear but very crinkly plastic pants out of his draw to drag over them.

“You appear to have got too used to the diaper, perhaps you are liking the situation?” Said with his slight Greek accent it felt more like an accusation.

He looked at me for a reaction and I was desperate not to give anything away. Thankfully I was still wiping the tears from my eyes so I think I avoided any sign that he might be correct.

“You need to know that you did wrong. Every minute of every day that you are at this company… you need to know you did wrong and that such deeds do not go unpunished.”

He was being firm but I’d got used to this form of lecturing and wasn’t going to risk either the job or my freedom by answering back or disagreeing.

“Yes sir, sorry sir.” I looked at him as miserably as I could and I suppose my wet and tear-stained face helped me sell the point. “I try to do better. Every day I try… to thank you for your… er… erm… understanding. I appreciate all that you are doing and have done for me and I am… very… very grateful.”

With a noise which seemed to fill his office he pulled me to my feet. The plastic pants sounded as if they had a crackling life of their own as I went to put on my trousers. It was difficult; the bulkiness of the thicker diaper and the chunky plastic pants making it almost impossible for them to fasten.

I left his office for home still gripping my pants together. It was a long journey and one that drew attention to my unwieldy pantie line. There was no way that anyone who might have been interested couldn’t have determined what my problem was but, although I got plenty of people looking (and I think smiling), no one said a word to my face.

Once I got through my front door I gladly let go of my pants and as they dropped to the floor I felt relief flood through me and, I have no idea why, I pissed myself. This was stupid because I was only feet away from my own bathroom but, nonetheless I did and my diaper expanded under the torrent. I waddled to my bedroom and gazed in the mirror at what I’d become. The shiny see-thru plastic noisily accompanied each step but, and this was the strange part for me, I didn’t dislike the image I saw staring back.

I pulled off my shirt and tie, kicked off my shoes and socks and stood naked apart from my ‘punishment’ looking in the mirror. My body looked OK, it wouldn’t win any Mr Universe awards but I wasn’t carrying too much extra weight. My hair was short but natural, not filled with product. I kept my face clean shaven so I still had a sort of boyish quality, which only now, wearing a thick diaper and plastic pants, I was beginning to appreciate. Becoming the company ‘baby’ (along with the cane) had been a revelation. It had opened up thoughts, feelings and possibilities that I’d never imagined. That big baby looking back was, I had begun to realize, having the most productive time of his life. Yes, even with the cane making me cry like a kid again, I had never been better or felt that I could attain anything if I wanted.

What Mr. Phanasious may or may not have realized was that this ‘baby thing’ was like a rebirth and I could start my life all over again. If this is what it took to make me better, to give my life a complete overhaul and simply be a fuller, more responsive human being, then it was worth it. I hadn’t been bullshitting the boss, I really was only just beginning to comprehend that what I said to him I’d meant. I was trying hard and, with the thick diaper between my legs and the sensation of it every time I walked or moved or sat down, made me appreciate that unexpected new development in my personality.

Yes, that big wet baby staring back at me needed to be seen for what he was… and in truth… I loved what he was and what he might become.

I spent the rest of the evening wearing just that noisy, squishy outfit and thanked my lucky stars I’d been given this extra chance. Even once I’d gone to bed I let myself fill the diaper even more and by the morning, the thing had expanded so much that the plastic pants were stretched to such a capacity that they looked like I was wearing an immense shiny, slippery balloon.

I’d bought the same brand of disposables that the boss used so I had a ready supply of my own and once I was showered I slipped into exactly the same as he’d dressed me in. It did feel strange. After a night of thick, wet diapers, wearing clean dry ones just wasn’t the same. I wondered if I should add a third to make them reach a similar bulk as the ones I’d just taken off, but I was going to be inspected as soon as I got into work so it was up to Mr. Phanasious to make any such decisions.

I loved the crinkle, rustling noise I made as I walked to or sat on the bus. I wasn’t sure how many people could hear it but to me it was loud and obvious. A woman who sat next to me smiled as I moved over slightly to give her more room and I detected an expression of crinkle recognition as she cheekily looked down at my crotch before quickly resuming her forward stare. She did have a smile on her face for the rest of the journey before I had to get off. Even then, as I excused myself and she moved her legs for me to get passed, the rustling was even more apparent (and now directly in her face) I saw her hand waiver for a brief moment… I think she almost patted my padded bottom as I went by. I turned to thank her and we were both grinning and that set me up for the day. Another, unexpected triumph, I’d made someone I didn’t know smile.

For a brief moment I thought about my girlfriend, well, my ex-girlfriend who, as soon as the money had dried up suddenly found an excuse to leave. No gifts, no sex. No money, no girlfriend. At the time I was devastated at how easy it had been for her to use me and then discard me but eventually I began to realize that she was treating me the same way I treated my ill-gotten gains. They were useful and convenient but ultimately I didn’t need them. She must have felt the same way.

I suppose, the fact that I now had no distractions to my life was a mixed blessing, and I certainly don’t know what she’d have thought about my striped bum and diapers. Thankfully I only had myself to worry about on that score and I’d decided that I wouldn’t pursue the couple of work colleagues that I quite fancied.

I arrived at the boss’s door ready for my morning inspection. His secretary, who I wasn’t sure how much she knew, if anything, smiled and waved me through because I was expected. In his office there was a visitor.

“Good morning,” he looked at me with those steely eyes, “I’d like to introduce you to my wife.”

I was surprised at this level of familiarity, meeting his missus was a huge deal and I thought how strange it was that she should want to meet me.

“Good morning Mrs Phanasious,” I shook her hand, “a pleasure to meet you.”

She smiled a very winning smile. She was about ten years younger than her husband, very feminine and beautifully made-up and surprisingly her hand shake wasn’t some feeble limp grip… she was definitely a force in her own right.

“The pleasure’s all mine Georgie.”

It was an unexpected response. In the office they called me George, or Mr Miller, no one had ever called me Georgie, well apart from my mother when I was a child.

I was a little bit discomforted by this overfriendliness and immediately I felt a cold shiver run through my body and, at the same time, very uncomfortable standing there in my diapers. Before I had chance to respond Mr Phanasious continued.

“My wife is the reason I didn’t call the police when we discovered the amount of money you… ‘borrowed’…from the company.”

That cold uneasy feeling was now changing to a hot flush covering my body and I could feel the sweat flooding from every one of my pores.

“It was she who convinced me to give you a second chance.” He kept that stare on me as I avoided my eyes meeting hers. I didn’t want to see if there was any expression of triumph or superiority or…

The boss continued, “She came up with your rehabilitation - firm but fair.”

My diaper was getting hot and I wriggled uncomfortably in it aware that they both would notice my discomfort.

“I’ve been telling her about your fantastic progress,” He seemed genuinely pleased about my attitude change and how well I was doing at work. “She wanted to meet you herself.”

I plucked up the courage to look at her directly. “Er… thank you.” That didn’t really sound enough, so I repeated myself. “Thank you.”

She smiled but I couldn’t quite decipher what that meant. I really was feeling most awkward and my anxiety level had risen considerably. Neither of which were helped when Mr Phanasious said.

“OK, drop your trousers let me inspect the stripes and your diaper.”

I looked aghast at him and then across to her but he simply repeated his instruction and I could do nothing but reluctantly let my pants fall to the floor.


Re: The Boss’s Bizarre Justice 1-3 final piece

The Boss’s Bizarre Justice 3

I averted my eyes like I normally did as the boss checked me out. He pulled down the back of my diaper and inspected the effects of the previous days caning. The ‘mmm’ sound he made I guess meant he thought it was all good but all I could remember were the twenty painful strikes that had left me sobbing. I got a lump in my throat as I recalled how abjectly I had cried but knew I deserved it. I caught Mrs Phanasious looking on with interest and concern so, as he pulled up my diaper after finishing his assessment, I was wondering why this lady had come to my protection and saved me from jail?

I stood there under the gaze of my boss and his wife in just my thick diaper and crinkly plastic pants but I dare not, at least without permission, retrieve my trousers. At that moment his intercom buzzed and Mrs Parker, his secretary, announced that there was someone else to see him. He left the room and I was left with Mrs Phanasious who gave no indication I should pull up my pants so I remained standing as I was… embarrassed but determined not to rock the boat in any way.

“Georgie,” she said in a quiet voice. “I hope you don’t mind me calling you that but… you… do look so cute and boyish dressed as you are.”

I tried to hide the fact that I was uncomfortable with the entire scene. I shrugged my shoulders and muttered some sounds that I hoped meant I wasn’t concerned. She continued her strange and unusual stare as if she was appraising me and then spoke.

“My husband spoke about you when he first employed you.”

I stood in my diaper but realized just how badly I needed to piss. I hoped this chat wasn’t going to last too long.

“He mentioned that he’d just taken on a very young, very bright new employee who he was convinced would lead the company into a new era of financial stability.” She waited for her words to sink in.

“You can imagine how disappointed he was to eventually find that almost immediately the person he had put so much faith in had tried to rip him, and the company, off.”

I think she was waiting for some reaction but in truth I didn’t know how to react.

“He knew the company was losing money from somewhere but never expected it was down to you, and I suspect, he would never have checked on your involvement.”

I wriggled noisily in my discomfort and her friendly tone changed ever so slightly.

“The fact that you were so brazen and hardly covered your tracks hit him hard.”

She appeared both calm and angry at the same time and I could tell that she was fighting another emotion as she went on.

“My husband is very perceptive, he knows a wrong one when he sees one… but he didn’t see you. The fact that you cared so little after he put so much trust in you… he questioned his faith in people and his ability to spot and develop real talent,” she shook her head, “and even when the paper-trail led inevitably to you… he wouldn’t believe it.”

I wriggled even more uncomfortably, the guilt hitting home.

“The rest of the staff who would have to forego any bonuses… the possibilities of laying people, good hard working people, off… hit him badly.”

My involvement in this crime, which, I had thought was all about money but was now shown to be about a whole lot more made me feel a complete loser.

“Several times he’d picked up the phone to call the police but hoped for a different solution… he could see no way around getting the authorities involved and you being put away for your crime.”

The realization I’d let so many people down made my heart beat faster and swallowing was becoming more difficult. Not just at this company but my parents, my sister, the other places where I worked. I had constantly under achieved any expectations; lied and cheated in the pursuit of money and things for my own stupid gratification and the weight of that guilt transformed into tears. Not only that but as I fell to the floor bawling my eyes out my bladder gave way and I began to fill my diaper. I was no longer in control of any of my waterworks so just curled up into the foetal position and let out the pent up flood.

Mrs Phanasious came over and offered a few soothing words and stroked my padded bottom. She gave me time to calm down but in many ways I was just too ashamed to want to move at all. Even though I was wet, the fact that I was wearing my protection was offering me some strange and inexplicable comfort. I hugged myself into a tight ball, the slippery plastic and bulky diaper the only things I was really aware of. I wanted to hide, to sleep, to get escape from this awful thing I’d done so I closed my eyes tightly and hoped it would all go away.

Eventually my tears subsided and I found myself being comforted in the arms of the woman whose husband I’d let down so badly. She was soothing me as she might have a baby or a toddler who’d just gone through some kind of trauma. I felt safe and relaxed and had no real idea how long I’d been there. Although my diaper felt cold and clammy and I knew I needed to change. Meanwhile, I had no recollection of taking my shirt and tie off, or my shoes and socks or losing my trousers because I was being held naked apart from my diaper.

“Georgie. Georgie.”

She was whispering trying to bring me back into the real world. I was in no rush to return. I snuggled down. I didn’t want to face any responsibilities and it felt safe where I was.

“Georgie, I’m an Occupational Psychologist. I suggested that, if he still thought you were worth the effort, he might try a different strategy.”

Her fingers stroking my head were gentle and caring.

“I don’t know what your childhood was like but I thought perhaps you might want to start over again. My husband wondered about some kind of punishment, he didn’t want you thinking you could just do what you did with no consequences so…”

I was listening and shivering at the same time. My body shook with tension at what she might say next.

“I came up with this idea of… rehabilitation.”

My head was spinning. Rehabilitation? Surely she meant punishment… a punishment that I had no alternative but to accept. The corporal punishment, the diapers… this wasn’t rehabilitation it was torture… and she had dreamt it up?

I could feel anger and resentment growing in my stomach. I wanted to respond; shout, scream, reject all the accusations but her soft stroking of my hair and the gentle patting of my crinkly diaper reminded me that I had done something wrong and had deserved to be punished.

“Because my husband thought you held so much promise we thought this alternative offered you a chance, one that was up to you to take or refuse. It might not have seemed so at the time, or perhaps since, but you chose correctly, I’m not sure jail would have been the best place for you.”

I couldn’t disagree and eventually I unfurled myself from her comforting touch.

“Why the cane? Why the diapers? Was it just to humiliate me?”

She shook her head. “You need to know that bad deeds need to be punished. Jail may have been the answer but I was hoping for something you might want to change yourself. The cane was to direct your thoughts, the diaper was to keep those thoughts in your head… and… if what my husband says is true… you have gone a long way yourself to make sure these simple… ideas… have worked.”

I looked in both disbelief and relief that she was right. I’d come to the same conclusion myself only the previous night but I’d arrived at it from a different perspective. However, Mrs Phanasious added something more.

“You appear to be on the right lines, going in the right direction but we don’t want you to falter. Too many people would be let down and needless to say, you would let down yourself.”

I have always hated preachy people, people who think they know best, people who think they know better than I do what’s right for me… and I’ve always gone out of my way to prove those people wrong. It came as a bit of a shocker to realize that perhaps it was me who was wrong. In fact, now as I lay there in my diapered protection there was no ‘perhaps’ about it. I didn’t know everything, I wasn’t always right and I did need guidance, the type of guidance I’d rejected for most of my life.

Her fingers strayed under the plastic pants and she could feel the wetness.

“You need changing.”

I didn’t do anything but lay there as she went and retrieved a fresh clean disposable. Like any good mother she removed the sodden mass, wiped the area dry, added some baby powder (I had no idea where that came from) and proceeded to fit me tightly into a diaper that felt soft and comfortable to wear. I was past any kind of embarrassment and just let her get on with which was so much better at doing than either her husband or myself.

I started giggling. My body shook with the tremors of deep throbbing laughter and I looked up at Mrs Phanasious with tears of joy running down my face. I was laughing at my own ‘preachy’ thoughts, my own abject realization of my worth… nothing.

She smiled understandingly “The diapers are really just the symbol of a restart. As a child grows and learns, well, they are just a symbol of offering you the same opportunity, to start afresh. The fact that you have taken to them so well is very positive.”

And then she hugged me. “Put you clothes back on and get back to work.”

It felt like she was jovially reprimanding a child. Noisily I moved to redress and I smiled in acknowledgment of the rustling that accompanied every little movement. The diaper and plastic pants had become part of my ‘rehabilitation’ and I was in no hurry to discard them. In fact, I thought of them as a badge of honor, one that I’d had to earn to get back some kind of self-respect.

They were now a very important part of who I was and what I wanted to become. I held my boss and his thoughtful wife in high regard for seeing something in me that needed help, direction and a future. They had done their bit in making me realize I might have more potential than I’d offered to anyone before but now, with my diaper firmly in place, I was going to try and be the best.

“Thank you Mrs Phanasious,” I could hear the crackle as I moved towards the door, “Thank you… I won’t let you or Mr Phanasious down”.

She smiled and nodded as I closed the door. “Good luck Georgie.”

Mrs Phanasious sighed with relief. She was glad the way things were turning out but, like her husband, Georgie would need a keen eye kept on his progress. Nothing else about his ‘rehabilitation’ would change immediately because it appeared to be working and she was just glad that, for the moment anyway, he was onboard with the program. She was also very glad that the alternative, the Plan B, had he not been so compliant didn’t have to be used; another paper-trail of misappropriation that would have led straight back to him… and a definite long prison sentence.