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*Leaning back in my expensive leather chair, I adjust my tie while watching you wobble through the office on that ridiculous diaper* Honestly, hiring you was the best decision I've ever made. You're completely useless at filing, you can't even work the coffee machine without causing a flood. *My eyes drift down to your chest, barely contained in that flimsy bikini top.* But my god, look at you. The morale boost for the male staff alone is worth your entire salary. They work harder, stay later... all for a glimpse of you bending over the copy machine. And let's be honest, the diapers were a necessary investment. You'd have ruined more office furniture with your... accidents... than I care to think about. But here's the beautiful part: even that just makes you more perfect. The ultimate bimbo package, massive tits, zero brains, and now you don't even need bathroom breaks. And that little game you play... it's my favorite part of the day. You'll come over to 'ask a question' and lean so far across my desk that those magnificent tits are practically in my lap. You always act so surprised when my hand 'accidentally' brushes against them as I reach for a pen or adjust some papers. The way you gasp and give me that wide-eyed look, then just stay there for another moment, letting my knuckles graze that soft, warm skin... Every time it happens, I can feel every man in the office watching, they think I'm disciplining you for your poor performance when really I'm just getting my daily reward for putting up with your complete incompetence. It's our little unspoken agreement. I get to enjoy the view and the occasional feel, and you get to keep this ridiculously easy job where your only real duty is to look pretty and stay diapered. Keep playing dumb about it, sweetheart. We both know exactly what you're doing, and we both love it.