Published: March 18th 2022, 12:01:02 pm
It had been a long time since Victoria had built a sand castle, but it had also been a long time since she'd felt the way she had when she'd seen Graham. The two weren't really comparable - the first was measured in years, the second in weeks, probably - yet, to her, they almost seemed the same. What her sitters had done to her with the hypnosis didn't help with that, nor did all those horny dreams she'd been having while she was unable to get off without a full diaper... Graham was better than any of the boys, or girls, from her dreams, however, not least of all because he was real.
And if he wanted to see her do something impressive with her plastic bucket and shovel... Well, she was going to do her best. And the best thing she could imagine being able to do was build a castle. There were people who could do other kinds of sand sculptures, and she'd seen them in the past... She'd never paid attention to how they did it, unfortunately, which meant attempting to copy them was a very silly idea.
Sand castles she had done, to a degree. She'd also seen people do far better jobs with them than she ever had, but all those years she'd been out of the game might come in handy now. And it wasn't like she was going to have any competition here, nobody to show her up, or compare her to... It looked as if most people here were more interested in other activities. As long as the whole thing didn't collapse, she should be all right.
She picked her spot, plopping down in the dry sand, to help protect her trainers, and the plastic pants over them, from encountering too much moisture, just to be safe, but with the damp sand on the other side of the tide line in easy reach. She groaned as she looked over at her bucket, seeing the bottle inside, the brown juice taunting her. She was certain she could feel her tummy rumbling already, simply from the little bit she'd already drank.
She squirmed, peeking behind herself at their blanket, making the mistake of catching Sawyer's eye. She'd hoped the girls would already have moved on, that their threat was an empty one, but her sitter mimed sucking a bottle - at least, that was what Vickie assumed she was pretending to suck on - and, reluctantly, Vickie followed orders, fishing the bottle out of the bucket and forcing herself to gulp a mouthful down. It wasn't nearly as nasty as her first taste had been, since she was expecting it this time... That didn't mean it was pleasant, however.
It was such a mean trick, Vickie thought as she jammed the bottle into the sand, working it back and forth to make a little cupholder of sorts for it. She should have known they'd try something like this, when they were going to be away for an entire day, with the bathroom on the other side of the beach... A drink that would fill both her bladder and her bowels, a double threat to make it twice as likely that she'd screw up, and...
No. She shook her head, cheeks blazing as she got up onto her hands and knees, trying to forget about how utterly childish she must look like that, her slightly padded bottom in the air, plastic pants peeking out from over the top of her swimsuit bottoms, scooping sand into her bucket. She wasn't going to think about the bag that her babysitters had brought along, or the diapers she knew were inside it, waiting for her to slip up one more time...
She wriggled, recalling how big and bulky the diapers she was sent to 'bed' in every night were... She already spent so much of the evening in those, from right before Sawyer and Taylor left for the night until they returned in the morning, while she sweated and squirmed uncomfortably, too scared to attempt to take them off on her own, for fear that she wouldn't be able to get the tapes back in just the right place to recreate the signature each of the girls put over one side of her tapes, for exactly that reason.
It was always inevitable that she'd have to pee at least once before bed, leaving her stuck in soggy, rapidly cooling, pants for the rest of the night to add to her discomfort and humiliation.... And to guarantee that she'd look like a bedwetter the next morning. She wasn't sure which was the actual intention of the ordeal, but Sawyer and Taylor didn't seem to mind either when she complained about them.
The thing that bothered her the most was the uncertainty it brought... Her sitters loved to call her a bedwetter, and, thanks to the state her diapers were in when they woke her up, it was very hard to deny it. She could tell them that it happened while she was awake, but admitting to intentionally peeing her pants - even if she didn't have a choice in the matter - didn't exactly boost her ego, or make her look more mature... And she honestly didn't know if that was all there was to it or not.
Was it possible that she was going more in her sleep? Her diapers did feel squishier a lot of the time in the morning... As much as she hated the thought, there was a chance that she wasn't making that up, wasn't letting herself be influenced by the teasing of her babysitters... There was a chance that she was a bedwetter after all, like her baby cousin... Or like the girl had been. It was very possible that she'd grown out of it by now, while Vickie, mortifyingly, was potentially growing into it.
As bad as all that was, however, she had no doubt that it would be far worse to be in diapers all the time. No escape from them, except at changes, and bathtimes, no hope of being taken to the bathroom, for anything, no way to pretend she was still the mature college student she had been not that long ago... An overgrown baby, through and through.
She couldn't let that happen, especially not today, in front of Graham, and all these other people. They all seemed so grown-up, so confident - and, from what she could see, which was everything, they had every reason to be - and she already looked so tiny and pathetic next to them in her childish tankini and her trainers underneath... Would her diapers even fit under her swimsuit?
She shuddered, pushing that image out of her head, trying to concentrate as she tapped on the sand she'd loaded into the bucket with her shovel, wondering if that was good enough or not. She knew it was easier to make castles on the beach, as opposed to in a sandbox, and that had to be because the sand was wet here... But was the sand she had now too wet? If she'd known this was what she was going to be doing, she'd have done a little research before she got here...
Then again, how much would she actually have been able to find out? She didn't have access to her computer or her phone... Her parents still had some old encyclopedias around the house, that Vickie had always made fun of them for, since she could find anything she needed with a quick Google search instead. She suspected they wouldn't have anything as useful, or fun, as this in them, though.
She was staring down at the bucket, contemplating, when she felt an unexpected contact, a pat on her backside. She gasped and spun around, feet knocking against the bottle as she turned, eyes wide, horrified that it might have been Graham, that he might have felt her padding, found out for certain what he was wearing if, somehow, he hadn't already known...
"Vickie!" Taylor scolded, kneeling down to pick up the bottle Vickie had kicked over, her makeshift holder for it no match for her panicking flip-flops. "What's wrong with you, silly? Do you want to drink sand?"
Unfortunately, the nipple had prevented any of the juice from leaking out. Taylor leaned over, rubbing the bottle against Vickie's tankini top, then pulling it in closer to examine it, brushing the last few grains off with her fingertips while Vickie watched, wiggling her bottom anxiously...
And feeling something horrifying. In her shock, and the fear of it being Graham behind her, something had apparently happened... It wasn't huge, by any stretch of the imagination - she almost missed it entirely, just happening to feel it brush against her skin in just the right way - no more than a few errant drops...
But she'd definitely had an accident. She fought to keep her face from screwing up in frustration. Everything she'd gone through to get this far, all her fretting over it just today, and one surprise pat had been all it took?! Her stomach lurched, hands balling up into fists, ready to argue, and throw a tantrum, if that was what it took to convince Taylor that this didn't count...
"You haven't had a drink in a while," Taylor told her, seemingly ignorant to what Vickie was going through. "We just wanted you to fix that."
"It hasn't been that long!" Vickie shot back, quickly regretting it, knowing that looking so defensive at such a small provocation was going to make it obvious she was hiding something. "S-Sorry," she back off. "I-It's just... so hot out here, you know?"
That was good... If she started to establish that excuse now, then maybe, if she was lucky, the sitters would assume that wetness was nothing more than sweat... It was so small, there was a chance that it might work...
"That's because you aren't drinking enough," Taylor countered, handing over the bottle, then pulling it away when she saw Vickie's less than enthusiastic response. "Do you need me to feed it to you?"
Vickie blushed, mind filling with images of being laid across Taylor's lap, her bare chest right above her as she was force fed prune juice... "N-No, ma'am," she shook her head, reaching for the bottle. "I-I can do it myself..."
She took another drink, about the same size as the one she'd gotten away with last time. Now, however, her sitter was right in front of her. "I think you need more than that," she said, even before Vickie had finished lowering the bottle, reaching up with one finger to lift the bottom of the bottle up, sending the liquid flowing back into Vickie's mouth.
Vickie squirmed, nose wrinkling as she swallowed dutifully, shivering at the disgusting taste. For a moment, she suspected Taylor was going to make her drink the whole thing, but, thankfully, she stopped short, pulling the bottle free. "That's better," Taylor chuckled, wiping an errant drop of prune juice from the corner of Vickie's mouth as she set the bottle back down in the sand.
She didn't particularly feel grateful to have even more of the stuff inside her, yet she made herself choke out as sincere a, "Thank you," as she could muster, wanting to look polite, knowing she might need any help she could when Taylor checked her, and found out what she'd done.
"You're so welcome, Vickie," Taylor smiled, adjusting her charge's bucket hat on her head. "Now, then..."
Vickie gulped, preparing herself for what she knew was about to happen, mind reeling with excuses and explanations, eyes threatening to brim with tears at any time at the looming possibility of her summer getting, somehow, even worse than it already was.
"You need to keep drinking the rest of this," Taylor continued. "We don't want to have to keep coming over here and reminding you, little lady, so don't make us."
Was that it?! Vickie nodded numbly, scared to believe it. "Y-Yes, ma'am."
"Good girl," Taylor gave Vickie's bottom another pat. This one did make the girl flinch again, but she was expecting it this time, so that was all. "Come over to the blanket whenever you're hungry, or ready for a rest... Or need a refill."
"I-Is there more apple?" Vickie asked hopefully, remembering the bottle she'd been given in the car.
Taylor didn't answer, other than a snicker that told Vickie all she needed to know. Vickie watched her walk away, eyes flicking towards the blanket, where she could see that Sawyer was distracted, talking to a boy.
Quickly, while they weren't looking at her, she slid a hand into the waistband of her plastic pants. The skin below did feel warm, thanks to all the heat being trapped in there, and there was definitely some sweat, which made it more difficult to find the wet spot from the outside, even knowing it was there... But it certainly was there, and once she found it, it was hard to deny what it felt like.
What was she going to do?! If she was very, very lucky, they wouldn't look that hard, wouldn't want to spend too much time checking her when there were other things on the beach to hold their attention... That would almost assuredly change when they got her home and put her in her diaper for the night, though delaying the inevitable would be enough of a victory for her for now...
Or... What if she took a bit more of a risk? They'd sent her here in these plastic pants, claiming they would protect her trainers... She suspected that was a trap, and it might be, but... If she was wet already anyway, then why not chance it? If she had something else to blame it on, perhaps they'd take it easy on her? Give her one more shot?
She picked up her things and moved further down the beach, to where she could see the waves lapping gently against the sand. She still didn't know for sure how the wetness of sand was going to help her with her building... And even if the tide was going out, anything she built so close to where it the water was currently moving would be at risk of washing away...
This could be a practice round, she decided. If Graham didn't come check it out before she got anything done, that was how she'd see it, and, after she'd sat in the waves for a little while, she could move back up the beach to try again, using whatever she learned from this, and with a perfectly good excuse for her wet trainers.
Would they accept it? That remained to be seen... But a good wave or two should be more than enough to mask the tiny accident she'd had, and give her a leg to stand on when arguing that she didn't deserve to go back to diapers for this.
There was far more of a squish when she sat down this time, her backside sinking into the sand slightly, which instantly brought some extra warmth to her cheeks at how much, for a moment, it felt like she was lowering herself onto a messy diaper. If this didn't go well, of course, she was going to have a lot of that in her future...
She set the bottle down as far ahead of her as she could, knowing she would be in for some major discipline if she let it get swept out to sea, then began to dig into the sand around her, dumping it into her bucket, filling it up more and more, every shovelful making her more confident that she needed something more dry after all.
She shivered as the water lapped around her, splashing past her legs, soaking her swimsuit instantly, putting her plastic pants to the test. This was such a bad idea... She watched as the wave receded, washing over her once more. She reached down to give the padding at her crotch a squeeze, then blushed and pulled her hand away, seeing her sitters watching her. She grabbed her bottle taking another swig.
To her surprise, the plastic pants did seem to be doing their job pretty well... She still didn't know if she'd trust them to protect her if she fully submerged them, but they did appear to be up for this task... Were her sitters not quite as evil as she'd assumed? Were they not setting her up for failure? With the plastic pants, anyway... All this juice they wanted her to drink definitely was meant for that...
A few minutes ago, that would have been good news; she didn't have to worry nearly as much about accidentally dooming herself to diapers by getting too close to the water! Now that she'd dribbled, however, it was less positive.
Sullenly, she flipped the bucket over, watching the sand ooze out into an unappealing lump. Too wet... Just like her training pants... There was no way she was going to be able to do anything here at all... Her 'practice' castle was going to be a pile of mud, basically, if she stuck around...
But if she didn't... She poked at the sand with her shovel, letting a couple more waves come and go, feeling them grow weaker and weaker. If they didn't do anything soon, she'd have to scoot further back on the beach, and, sooner or later, her sitters would start to grow suspicious, if they hadn't already...
"What am I doing?" she mumbled out loud, even as she reached a hand back, pretending to scratch her back. This whole thing had been tempting fate, but this? This was very, very stupid...
She snagged the waistband of her plastic pants, tugging them out, leaving a nice, big gap. This was it... If she didn't let go, let it snap back, she'd really have to hope that her sitters were willing to listen to reason, for once, and accept that the plastic pants they'd given her weren't up for the task...
She let out a yelp as the wave crashed into her, and, before she could change her mind, it poured some of its contents down her back, soaking into her trainers, sloshing inside her plastic pants, as there was too much for the relatively thin padding to handle. The waistband slipped out of her fingers as she hopped to her feet, scrambling away, heart pounding.
When she sat again, she felt the water left in her plastic pants soaking into the trainers all the more, the drenched area growing. There was no way they would think that she'd gone this much! But would they care?
She went back to her work, still trying to deduce the optimal wetness for her castle, blushing every time she moved and felt her trainer squelch, wondering if she'd made the right choice or not, if she was going to be stuck wearing them for the rest of the day, obediently having a swallow or two of juice every few minutes. Finally, she saw a shadow fall over her, and looked up to see Sawyer approaching.
"Hey, there," she smiled. "Do you need to go to the bathroom?"
"O-Oh." Vickie blinked, having not expected that question. "Y-Yeah, I guess..." She'd been debating whether she could get away with peeing a little more in her pants, if the sitters would be able to tell the difference, or if her trainers were so soaked now that they couldn't hold any more liquid, and would wind up betraying her, letting her urine flow through and become super obvious in her plastic pants. Thankfully, she wouldn't have to worry about it... The thought of walking up to the blanket, in her current state, had been nerve-wracking, so it was nice, and unexpected, for Sawyer to ask, rather than making her do it.
"All right!" Sawyer held out a hand. Vickie looked around uncertainly, then put her almost empty bottle and the shovel into the bucket, deciding to take it with her. She didn't think anyone would steal it, but by the time they went all the way out to the bathroom, and then back here... Well, she'd hate to lose Graham's bucket while it was in her care.
And, apparently, Sawyer recognized that, and steered her towards their blanket first, presumably to drop it off. Vickie was surprised at how nice and thoughtful she was being...
Until she saw what was there, on the blanket, waiting for her, unfolded, open, bright pink in the summer sun. She tried to freeze, to stop short of the blanket, but her flip-flops could find no stable purchase in the sand... As if that would have been enough for her to resist the much bigger Sawyer.
"Wh-What is that for?" she asked, head spinning.
"Don't be silly," Sawyer scoffed. "I asked you if you needed the bathroom, and you said yes..."
"B-But... Th-That's not the bathroom..." Vickie whimpered.
"It is for you now," Sawyer grinned down at her. "For the whole rest of summer, little lady..."