The Blonde looks down at you lying on the leather sofa in her office.....
"You don't understand poor baby. You don't understand that I can do absolutely anything I want to you. You are powerless to stop me." she thought.
The Blonde was right. But you didn't want to believe it.
The drug -- you weren't sure how she administered it or what it was -- but it made you like putty in her hands.
It didn't make it any easier that she was younger than you, or that she was beautiful. You were fully conscious of what was going on, but helpless to do anything about it. You couldn't ever seem to remember anything about your secessions with her after they were over -- it was like a dream.
She flipped her long blonde hair back, smiling, completely in control. Self-assured and she knew it. She knew she controlled you, but it was what she DIDN'T know about you that had you worried.
No! She couldn't possibly know any of those nasty, naughty little secrets you kept from even your most intimate partners. Could she???!!
"Come on, lay back and relax, 'Little One.'" She liked calling you that because it made you feel inferior to her, somehow weaker, more submissive. She jokingly nicknamed you that early in the process. She didn't know just how close to the mark she was!
"Lay back on the couch and tell me what you know you must tell me, what you know you really want to tell me. Come on now, be sweet, Little One."
It wasn't supposed to be like this!!! It was suppose to be cold and professional. It was suppose to be distant! She was supposed to be a professional. More than that, she was an employee. Yes, not only an employee, but she was nowhere near your EXALTED corporate rank!
But it was YOU who was complying.....YOU who lay on the couch. Like in a very relaxed trance. No will to fight, no stamina. A piece of you was very much aware of the potentially dangerous position you were in. Very much aware that this girl was on the edge of pulling down that carefully crafted facade you perfected over years of anxiety.
It was terrifying. Knowing there wasn't anything you could do to stop the process was terrifying. You understood the danger, you felt the fear, but all you could do was watch and TRUTHFULLY respond....
"Tell me, Little One," she gently prodded, "tell me a secret. Tell me a secret so very well kept. Tell me just one today. You know you must. You'll feel ever so much better." She smiled, crossed her shapely, long, nylon clad legs. She watched your face for any reaction.
She purposely let her skirt ride up her thing. Not whorishly..... seductively.
She caught it! "You like it, don't you?"
"Don't lie, Little One. You like my legs. You can't seem to take your eyes off them. Trying to peek up my skirt, you bad boy?"
"no, no i didn't...." an almost pleading whisper
"Now that's interesting. Yes, interesting." she smiled.
Did she have something? Did she pick up a scent?
"Most men wouldn't mind acknowledging they liked a well shaped woman's leg."
"What is it then, if not the legs? What is it Little One?"
Before you could answer, she saw you flinch.
"Ah, I think I understand now!" she mused. She was proud of herself. "Is it the actual words “Little One”? It's me calling you Little One!"
"yes." You were compelled to tell the truth.
"Oh! Little One! Now THIS is interesting! I think we may have made a break through!"
-- LATER -- A Corporate Executive Office --
"So what have we accomplished after seven secessions? Do we know 'Little One' any better?" The stylish, aggressive woman executive took a particular delight in your new nickname, 'Little One.' She liked it, she hoped for more...
The Blonde was eager for the older woman executive's approval. "He's still very reluctant to express any strong feelings. He won't open up, even after our drug treatment. But today I caught an interesting reaction. He was aroused the more I used the words “Little One”."
"Hardly significant, I would think.” the female executive pondered.
"Perhaps, but I think he may have had a stronger reaction to the word “little”. In fact, he acted like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar when I pressed him on that."
"So, perhaps we have a fetish? That could be useful." the older woman smiled.
"It fits the personality profile we're building, but I think there may be more, quite a bit more. A fetish is interesting, and useful. But I think 'Little One' is more complex than that. To paraphrase: 'Me thinks he doth protest too much' his lack of interest in me using those words."
The older woman looked thoughtfully at the Blonde psychologist. "What then?"
"Maybe. Even better if he were a closet submissive. We need to do a bio-feedback check. It should give me the edge I need over him. It will be less expensive, in the long run." The Blonde fingered an expensive wrist watch which had a small, intelligent bio-feedback sensor implanted in its plate.
"Give him this; call it a reward, and make up some excuse. Then send him to our lab's waiting room."
"Nice watch, but what is it going to tell us, besides the time?" the woman executive asked.
The Blonde psychologists smiled, obviously proud of her high tech approach. "The watch, actually the bio-feedback sensor, will give us a reading on what turns him on. He will know he has at least one hour to wait for his appointment, that he has some time to kill. The film from our hidden cameras will be correlated with the responses from the bio-feedback sensor."
"What are you going to do, show him blue movies??" she laughed.
"Nothing quite that drastic. He will have a very limited choice of magazines to page through while killing time for his appointment. Nothing pornographic, mind you. I had something more subtle in mind: Vogue, Cosmo, maybe even Good Housekeeping and Parenting. Let's see what he hits on, what really interests him."
"I can even tell his preference in food by measuring the amount of time he spends looking at a recipe or cooking ad, along with his biological responses."
"Very well, get to it. We need results. This is very important for our company."
-- A WEEK LATER, AT THE EXECUTIVE OFFICE --
"So, what exactly is our Little One? A cross-dresser, a homo, what have you learned?" she asked the Blonde psychologist.
"You'd be surprised! First, he completely ignored virtually all the photographs which included naked people, both male and female. He even ignored the swim suit spreads."
"So, our boy doesn't like pictures of naked girls?" the executive asked.
"No, I'd say that 'skin' doesn't turn him on. Here's a partial list, by magazine, type of photo, and physical reaction:
1. Cosmo -------- naked woman -------- no response (no response)
2. Cosmo -------- guy gallery ----- mild erection (Stared at photo or guy in underwear for five full minutes, erection grew stronger)
3. Cosmo -------- female dominant pic --- mild erection (Rubbed thighs together, obviously excited.)
4. Good Housekeeping ---- Redecorating boy’s bedroom --- mild erection (Just scanned the story and photos.)
5. Good Housekeeping ---- Recipe section ------- strong erection/spotting (Stared for over five minutes, very strong erection. Story was about making baby food at home. Pictures not revealing at all…showed mother feeding baby in high chair. Indications of "pre-cum" secretions.)
6. Parenting -------- playpen photo ---- strong erection/heavy spotting (Over five minutes staring at picture. Indications of "pre-cum" secretions.)
7. Parenting -------- Pampers diapers ------ strong erection/heavy spotting (Very strong reaction to diaper advertisement. Extremely strong erection. Subject obviously "moist" -- pre-cum stain near groin. Could very well have ejaculated, but "calmed down" while on the edge.)
"He has a very unique sexuality. He ignores pictures of naked women. But he likes men and women in parenting roles. He was turned on by a story that showed a woman making baby food for her infant. He came close to ejaculation when he saw an ad for diapers.”
The woman executive pondered this information. "Is he some kind of pedo?"
"No! He's PROJECTING!! He sees HIMSELF WEARING THE DIAPERS AND EATING THE BABYFOOD!" He got so excited over a Pampers advertisement that he nearly needed a diaper himself! Seriously! Between the baby food story and the diaper ad, Little One nearly messed his pants!"
"Pampers?!" the executive exclaimed.
"Ah huh!" the psychologist continued. "Now, we have absolutely no evidence he is aroused by children. Quite the contrary. He does, however, seem to be aroused by THE CLOTHES of children and babies, like diapers and little onesies and baby bonnets."
The executive smiled, "Perhaps you really did strike a chord by calling him 'Little One.'"
"Yes! HE PROJECTS HIMSELF INTO THE BABY OUTFITS, JUST AS I THINK HE PROJECTS HIMSELF INTO THE NURSERY PHOTOS! I am certain he would submit to a dominant woman! He needs to be 'forced' to dress and act like a baby. Our “Little One” appears to be into infantilism."
"Infantilism?" the executive asked.
"A term we use for people who are sexually excited by being regressed to infancy. Usually involves wearing babyish clothes, diapers, baby bonnets, plastic panties. Often involves 'wetting' games, nursing, and the like. It can be voluntarily. But I don't think so, in Little One's case. He definitely needs to be FORCED into the humiliation!"
"Why forced? If he obviously LIKES to be diapered?" she asked.
"He doesn't want to become a baby. He is excited by being made to dress and act like a baby! Forced, that's the key. But not just dressed as a baby boy. Little One would secretly quiver with shameful delight if he were forced to ACT like a baby! That would be an ultimate turn on."
"How amusing! Dressing our little stud muffin executive as a little baby! Delightful!"
"Our Little One is a masochist. He probably has a lingerie fetish, and no doubt would find excruciatingly exciting to be forced to cross-dress, the more babified, the better! That means very 'little girlish' and lacy! He'd no doubt readily submit to "diaper discipline" especially if he were forced to dress and act like a little toddler or baby!" the Blonde smiled, "BUT it must always be FORCED, and he must always be painfully aware he is a male, that he is forced to be a baby by a dominant female!"
The executive looked thoughtful, " How do you intend to proceed with his development?"
"He needs a dominant mistress. The Mistress would force him to submit to a variety of humiliating situations: she would combine punishment, humiliation, and infantilism. Perhaps even some public humiliation, as long as it wasn't career threatening." the Blonde responded.
The woman executive was smiling broadly now, "Of course! Imagine what leverage I can exert on him. He is already well known as a 'macho stud’ by most of the attractive young women in the company. What I wouldn't give to see him dressed as a little baby, in diapers and an oversized onesie."
"Yes! Ensure the Mistress keeps him completely under her control. But what's this about public humiliation? I don't want to loose him as a corporate asset, just totally control him."
"I understand your concerns," the Blonde replied. "What I had in mind was to expose him to a select number of people. Perhaps one of our young female junior executives, or an ex-girlfriend he jilted, I've even considered recruiting Roger to help out."
"You mean the gay guy in administrative services?"
"Yes," replied the Blonde. "Roger is actually the best of both worlds, he's bi. Little One seems to have some sort of macho thing against gays. He loves to 'bash' Roger, calling him, 'a little faggy fairy'."
"Oh!" smiled the woman executive, "now wouldn't that be an interesting turnabout!"
The Blonde agreed. "Yes, Roger has an excellent sense of humor. I'm sure Roger would love to turn the tables and play 'wet nurse' to Little One for a couple of days! It would exquisitely humiliating for a Little One, having the so-called "little faggy fairy' dress him up in diapers and baby clothes, perhaps even changing his “Pampers”. And who knows, maybe letting Little One 'nurse' like a good little baby," she winked.
The woman executive laughed, "Nurse??! You are a perfect bitch, I love it!! How absolutely humiliating for our Little One! Babified and humiliated by the very man he used to ridicule!"
The Blonde smiled, "Only one question, do you think he'd look sweeter in a romper or sleeper?"
The executive laughed, "I don't care, as long as it's totally infantile; and his diapers are very, very wet after you are finished with him. And pictures! Loads of pictures! Humiliate and embarrass him! Emasculate him with diapers! Yes!!!"
She turned serious again, "Have you found a 'handler' for him yet?"
"Yes, but you know I dislike that term. His "mistress" is already being briefed. She will act as my assistant, until I can transfer his case." replied the Blonde.
"Ok, ok," the woman executive raised her hands in surrender, "tell me about the 'Mistress'." Janet is twenty-four years old, five foot eleven inches tall. I thought it more effective if she is shorter than him. She has a 38C-24-34 figure, long legs, and dark eyes. French-Jamaican ancestry, since I think Little One will be especially excited with a black domitrix. Actually, she looks a bit like Janet Jackson, only a bit lighter complexioned. Graduate degree in psychology, in desperate need of funds, and an avid feminist."
"Good, very good. Keep up the hypnosis and 'medication,' We must ensure 'Little One' continues to behave himself."
"Yes, of course. But the transition from a dominant male to a submissive does not happen overnight. I've explained to Janet that Little One must initially be dominant in their relationship. He MUST be sexually dominant over her, until the proper time when we can reverse the roles."
"Will that be difficult for her?"
"I don't think she relishes it, but she knows that her financial security is assured, and that eventually she will control the situation far beyond anything Little One could ever imagine.”