“Iwent potty,” declares one of the other Littles across from me, whose name I haven’t bothered to learn, poking at the front of his own shorts. I’m assuming he’s diapered, too, because his shorts are dry. He turns to his Mommy. “Can I keep playing? It’s just alittlewet.”
She glances at her watch, then nods. “We’ll get you changed straight after, though.”
The Little cheers and makes ‘vroom, vroom’ sounds with his car, made out of brick blocks and plastic wheels. I clench my thighs together just a touch tighter and rock from side to side, humming to add to the distraction.
Kris chuckles and ruffles my hair, moving on to look at Shea’s vehicle beside me.
I might be winning this battle of wills right now, but we both know how it’s going to end.
And, as the activity comes to a close and I watch Kristian take his sweet-ass time packing up and chatting casually with all the other campers, I start to come out of my Little headspace. I’m still into wetting and humiliation play when I’m Big, but it feels even more intense with the added embarrassment of being Big and wearing a diaper.
A diaper I’m pretty sure I’m about to lose the battle with. I’m still dry, but the desperation to pee has reached an all-time high. I have never gotten to the point of not being able to control when or how I let go. It’s thrilling…but also a little terrifying.
“Okay,” Kris finally turns to me, his gaze heated and knowing. “Let’s head back to my cabin like I promised.”
I want to slump with relief, but any relaxation at this point would tip me over the edge.
Would that be so bad?I wonder as I start to follow Kris up the hill, towards the path that leads to the cabins.It would still be embarrassing enough to scratch that itch in my brain.
Hell, it might even bemoreembarrassing, because I’m Big and it’s becoming apparent that it will be outside of my control, and it means that Kris will have been ultimately right.
And he might have to change me.
My stomach flutters, which makes me clench just a bit harder. I feel a tiny dribble escape my tight hold on my bladder, absorbing into the padding immediately. I bite back a whimper, and my heart starts to race.
Okay, so maybe there’s no real losing in this situation after all…
Chapter Eleven
What a stubborn little shit Benji has proven to be.
This thought filters through my head with a fair amount of amusement. Last I checked, the Little has managed to stay dry despite squirming and clenching his thighs together for the last half an hour. His potty dancing has been adorable and entertaining, if nothing else. But, damn, he’s really making me work for the pay-off.
As we walk up the little hill to the private cabins, I can tell Benji's stubbornness is about to be overridden by his body. His walking has changed pace, his strides becoming shorter and tighter; more a shuffle than a walk. It’s a weak last-ditch effort to maintain control.
And my cock is getting harder, more than into the idea of watching Benji finally lose that stubborn control.
Of course, at this stage, I am not going to make it easy for Benji. Considering how hard he has fought to ‘win’ and prove his point, I want to push him beyond every possible boundary, especially now that he’s in an adult headspace.
Turning the key in the lock, I pause before pushing the door open, casually telling him, “If you won't use the diaper or the potty, you have to keep holding it.”
Benji's expression twists, but he visibly grits his teeth and nods, attempting (and failing) to seem nonchalant.God, he’s cute.“Whatever gets you off,” he says with a wave of his hand.
I politely ignore the tremble in it and let him inside. This cabin is slightly larger than Benji’s, with a small living area that seems to be decorated with Little-play in mind. I gesture towards the tiny loveseat which faces the television. “Take a seat.”
Benji clenches his thighs together and fidgets some more as he complies, and it takes every inch of my self-control to hide my amusement and arousal, even while my cock begs for the watersports he's pretty much been promised.
Soon, I reassure myself silently, but what comes out of my mouth is: “I think we should get you out of that diaper now that you're Big. It probably feels weird not being regressed, right?” My lips pull into a smirk, knowing exactly how this is going to play out, but unable to resist taunting him, “Unless you think you need it.”
He purses his perfect, pouty lips. “I don't.”
“Okay.” I strip the bed down to the waterproof mattress protector, taking my time to make Benji squirm. I can hear his breathing getting heavier and louder while I carefully fold the bedding and set it all aside, before grabbing one of the large plastic sheets I always travel with in my kink bag. I cover the bed with it, explaining, “Just in case you're not telling the truth.” Finally looking at him again, I demand, “Shorts off, get on the bed.”
Benji's breathing is shallow and hitching as he walks over stiffly from the couch. He whimpers a little as heclimbs into place, quickly clamping his legs together once he's on his back in the middle of the sheet. There’s a beautiful flush creeping up his neck.
“Safe words are still in effect,” I remind him. “Color?”
With pink cheeks and a clenched jaw, Benji nods. “Green.”
