Here’s an excerpt from Pissing My Diaper.
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“Hold it,” he commands.
I like to call him my daddy, given our thirty year age difference, and he likes to call me his son. It adds a taboo edge to our kinky play that heightens the heat of the moment.
“Yes, daddy,” I say.
If my frat brothers could see me know, they’d kill themselves laughing. Or they might beat me up for being a fag, then laugh when I’ve got a broken nose. But they have their kinks and I have mine — even though mine are, well, a little weirder.
Daddy walks in a circle around me again. He’s wearing a suit and tie that fit him snugly, accentuating his bulging muscles and gargantuan basket. After circling me, he walks over to the counter that divides the kitchen from the living room and grabs another bottle of water, bringing it over to me.
“Drink” he says, handing me the bottle.
I take it from him, put it to my lips, and tilt my head back, guzzling down the whole bottle in ten seconds flat. I let out a little burp, then hand him the empty bottle. That’s the sixth one I’ve downed in the last ten minutes. He has six more sitting on the counter.
He takes the bottle and puts it next to the other empties, but before grabbing the next full one, he comes over to me. He places his hand on my bare stomach, rubbing smooth circles over my abs.
“How are you doing, son?” he asks, his voice a mix of tenderness and domination.
“I’m okay, daddy, but I’m gonna have to piss soon.”
“Mmm,” he says, and moves his hand lower down, massaging my bulge through the adult diaper I’m wearing. The rest of me is naked and my skin is chilled. Daddy likes to keep the temperature low when I’m in my diaper, so that my nipples turn hard and the heat of a soon-to-be-wet diaper contrasts so much more. “Hold it until I say. Understood, boy?”
Over the next ten minutes, daddy makes me drink the last six bottles of water. My stomach is so full it’s bulging, making sloshing noises with every movement I make. I can feel the water as it snakes through my gut and settles in my bladder. Like a water balloon, my bladder expands and expands, soon reaching the point where I start to worry it’s going to burst.
“Daddy?” I ask.
“I really need to pee.”
“Hold it, boy. I told you to hold it.” Daddy sits down on the couch, the fabric of his pants stretching taut over his leg muscles and his thick bulge. I watch him as he gropes himself, wishing he would open his fly and let his cock hang out. I wish daddy would make me suck it and eat all the cum that he shoots out.
Fuck, my overwhelming need to piss interrupts my train of thought and overtakes me. I really need to go, to just let it all flood out. My bladder is so full it hurts. A cold sweat breaks out on my forehead, feeling extra cold in this cool room, and I start shifting from foot to foot, simply unable to stand still.
I’m holding it for the mere fact that daddy told me to. If it weren’t for him, or if I was a bad boy, I would’ve pissed in my diaper by now.
“Please, daddy,” I beg. “Please, let me pee.”
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