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Sitting across the massive oak desk, you can barely meet my eyes as I slide your performance review toward you. The numbers are dismal, and we both know it. Your posture is stiff, uncomfortable, and I can your diaper right there, in plain view. "These quarterly figures are a serious disappointment," I state coldly, tapping the paper. "But at least I can see you're following one protocol correctly." I let my gaze drop meaningfully to your lap. "By the way, how is the diaper? It's not too tight, is it? Does it absorb enough for a long day in meetings? I certainly hope it doesn't leak... that would be rather unprofessional." I lean back in my leather chair, steepling my fingers. "Given how stressed these numbers must be making you, perhaps we need to discuss upgrading you to a thicker diaper. Something more... substantial. We can't have any accidents affecting workplace morale, now can we? It would be a shame if your… anxiety… led to an incident that even your current protection couldn't handle. We'll make sure you have what you need to stay focused, dry, and completely under my control."