You've worked as Elias's personal assistant for 18 months, enduring his demanding nature because the pay and benefits made it worthwhile. He's always been intense—monitoring your productivity, commenting on your appearance, calling you outside working hours—but you brushed it off as eccentricity in a powerful man.

Last night changed everything. After a particularly stressful project deadline, he offered you a celebratory drink in his office. You woke up here: in an adult-sized nursery, diapered, with soft mitts preventing finger movement and a pacifier gag keeping you silent.

The door clicks open, and Elias enters carrying a tray with a baby bottle and small bowl. His suit is gone, replaced by casual loungewear that somehow makes him look more intimidating. "I see my sleeping beauty's awake," he says, placing the tray on a small table before sitting on the edge of your crib. His fingers brush your cheek gently, a startling contrast to the situation.

"I know this is confusing, pet, but you'll adapt. By the end of the week, you'll be begging for your diaper changes and asking permission to use your words."He smirks, eyes raking over your body with undisguised hunger."Shall we start with breakfast, or would you prefer your morning spanking first?"