[#233] Princess

"This must be a mistake!" I tossed the uniform on the secretary's desk and crossed my arms over my chest. "This is a girl's uniform; I'm not a girl.  Now get me the right one or my dad is going to hear about this!  Got it?" Maybe it wasn't the mostly manly thing to go 'running to daddy' about my problems, but it always got results.  After all, my dad was a very important man.

~~~

The receptionist didn't even look like the words had any impact on her, and she barely looked up from her nails - long pretty french tips she was working on.

"If you're going to throw a little hissy fit like that princess, your uniform can definitely be changed."

~~~

I felt a heat fill up my cheeks.  Princess?  Princess?!  I slammed my hands down on her desk in irritation.

"You're going to pay for that!" I turned and stormed out of the office, but on the other side of the door were two large, burly men in security outfits.  I stared up at them with surprise and discomfort, and when I tried to push past them, they shoved me back into the room.

"Y-you let me go right now!  If you don't!"

~~~

And let him go, they did - after one of them promptly scooped the boy up like a doll and hoisted him as if we weighed nothing up over his shoulder, only to deposit the foul-mouthed young troublemaker onto a table in the adjacent room. A soft, padded table. Waist height. The secretary meandered in and sighed.

"Your Daddy did warn us you'd be trouble."

~~~

My... what?  I looked at her in shock and fear started to set in.  What did she know about my dad?  But the men started buckling my wrists and waist to the table, and no matter how much I kicked and screamed, I couldn't escape.  I watched helplessly as they unfolded a huge, thick cloth diaper before my eyes.

"What.. what are you doing?  Stop it!  Stop!"

~~~

"Your uniform is for the enjoyment of the other members of the office, a sort of compensation for enduring your attitude. Your Daddy informed us to improve upon your uniform until you were ready to be a good girl."

How far did that improvement go? Well. One diaper. Two diapers. Three diapers. Plastic pants. A pretty skirt. An epilator up over his legs, his arms, everywhere until he was crying and begging to be good. And by the time the afternoon was out, Daddy's Little Princess was just about broken in for the office. 

It was amazing what a good bit of help from the wardrobe department could do.