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Bryce pinches the bridge of his nose. "I’m not against giving you a spanking."
Spanking.
This single word causes something to light up inside me. Breathing heavily, I picture Bryce marching over to me, hauling me onto his lap, ripping off my dump truck onesie and slapping my ass. Smack. The imaginary swat feels so good that my cheeks tense up as my wee aches.
I glance down, then sniffle as a huge glob of cum shoots out of my cock. I rub myself frantically over my onesie, trying to make my dick stop pulsating, but it doesn’t work.
"Don't look at me." My whispered plea comes out as a raspy, desperate whine. "I’m so ashamed."
Bryce walks over to me, sits down, and pats my back. "There, there."
I pick up the dump truck with Bob in it and rub it between my legs. I try not to cry, because now Bryce knows precisely how bizarre my fantasies get.
I can’t stop.
No matter how tingly and ashamed I feel, it’s too hard not to rub harder. More cummies come out, making my onesie wet.
Then, I wet myself.
Bryce promptly lifts me up and brings me to the potty. "Hey, it’s okay, sweet boy. You’re all right."
I finish going on the potty, then glance down at my soiled parts. It all happened so quickly that I couldn’t stop it.
"What’d make me feel better is if you came on my wee, Daddy."
Bryce hugs me. Just hugs me. He squeezes me tight, refusing to let me go. "No, sweet boy. You’re feeling a little shy right now, but turning to green light all at once isn’t the answer. We’ll take this one step at a time. You’re safe with me—you don’t have to run from your desires, not in the least. I don't judge you, as a matter of fact I likely understand you better than you understand yourself."
"No judgy?" I rub my eyes with the back of my hand. I really want to use Bryce’s shirt, but I also don’t mind my hand. It’s soft, too, and great at catching my tears.
"Not at all."
Bryce heaves me into his arms, then leads me to a rear room in the cuddle room. How odd. I didn’t realize the cuddle room had a second room inside of it. "Wait—Bob!"
He marches back, then picks Bob up. "I’ve got Bob."
He opens the door again. To my surprise, a big blue bathtub fills the entire room. I’ve never seen this room before.
"Wait—my dump truck!"
Bryce rolls his eyes. "I’m taking you to the cuddle room’s secret tub for a bubble bath. You don't need your dump truck."
I didn’t realize the Hug Club had a bubble bath.
"Wait—if I’m getting a bath, I need duckies!"
Bryce issues me a stern look. "Is there anything else you need?"
I mull this over, then grin. "I need you in the tub with me."
SIX
BRYCE
I soap my boy up, then rub the washcloth on his back. He splashes in the bubbles, sending suds flying everywhere, but I don't mind.
I wash his lower back, neck, ass, thighs, and bits. I can tell I’m tickling him when I do his underarms, but he stays in composure.
I’m sitting behind BJ and he’s nestled between my enormous, elephantine legs. This is a convenient position to ensure he’s clean.
