Oscar adjusted the collar of his crisp white button-down shirt, the fabric cool against his skin as he settled into the leather office chair in his dimly lit home study. The faint scent of aged wood and coffee lingered in the air, mingling with the subtle powdery aroma rising from beneath his slacks. From the waist up, he looked every bit the seasoned professional—salt-and-pepper hair neatly combed, wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose—but the thick, crinkling bulk of his patterned diaper hugged his hips tightly, the cute pastel prints hidden beneath dark trousers that rustled softly with each shift. He clicked into the video call, his heart thumping with a familiar mix of anxiety and secret thrill, as Rob's face materialized on screen, sharp-jawed and attentive at thirty-two, his own office background a blur of city lights through the window behind him.

The discussion started routine enough, Oscar updating Rob on the quarterly projections with measured calm, but tension crept in as they debated budget reallocations. Rob's voice remained steady, his dark eyes flicking across the screen without comment, though something unreadable passed over his expression when Oscar leaned forward, the diaper's edge pressing warmly against his skin. Oscar felt the heat rise in his cheeks, the padded garment shifting with every nervous twitch of his thighs, yet Rob pressed on without pause, his words sharpening as the numbers didn't align. "That's not what the data shows," Rob countered, his tone assertive, and Oscar's pulse spiked, frustration boiling over until he shoved back from the desk abruptly, standing to emphasize his point with a gesture toward the screen.

The camera angle dipped just enough to capture the full reveal: Oscar's trousers sagging slightly at the waist, exposing the waistband of his diaper, its surface adorned with whimsical, colorful patterns that contrasted starkly against his professional demeanor. The thick padding outlined the curve of his crotch, a faint crinkle audible even through the speakers as he froze mid-sentence, the realization hitting like a flush of exposed vulnerability. Rob's gaze lingered for a beat longer than necessary, calm and unblinking, before he simply nodded and continued the call as if nothing had shifted, leaving Oscar's breath caught in his throat, arousal and embarrassment twisting together in the pit of his stomach.

The video call ended with a curt nod from Rob, the screen fading to black as Oscar sank back into his chair, his breath shallow and skin flushed. The diaper's padding pressed firmly against his cock, which had stiffened traitorously during the exposure, the soft bulk rubbing with every subtle shift of his hips. He couldn't shake the image of Rob's lingering gaze, that calm intensity that had made his stomach twist with equal parts dread and forbidden heat.

Later that afternoon, as Oscar pored over spreadsheets in the quiet of his study, his phone buzzed with an incoming call. Rob's voice came through smooth and unhurried. "Hey, Oscar. Rough meeting earlier. You free after hours? Thought we could grab a drink at that pub around the corner—talk things over properly." Oscar's fingers tightened on the receiver, his heart pounding against the confines of his shirt while the diaper crinkled faintly beneath him, a reminder of his vulnerability. He agreed with a nervous murmur, his voice barely steady, the words tumbling out before he could second-guess the mix of fear and longing surging through him.

The rest of the workday settled into its usual rhythm, the hum of his computer and the occasional rustle of fabric the only sounds breaking the silence. Oscar forced his focus back to projections and emails, though his mind kept drifting to the upcoming evening, the thick padding

Padded Office Secret