"C'mon, Toni…pleathe…" It's pathetic, made even more pathetic by the slipping of his lisp, taped hands firmly between his thighs and clutching onto the too-tight material of his singlet. He's squirming on their hotel bed now, wondering if the horizontal position is making the pressure in his bladder worse or not.
"Oh, darling…" The Swiss man's voice is all sweet coos and reassurances until his fist his clasped tight around Jack's soft, short bleached locks. "…you should have thought about your punishment when you batted your long eyelashes at Ziggler." Jack would roll his eyes if his bladder wasn't absolutely full to bursting, forbidden to piss all day since Cesaro had concocted the idea in his head that Jack was somehow attracted to that squirt. Oh god, don't think of the word squirt.
"You…you know I don't feel that way about 'im, Toni, never did…juth…justh rumors…" He pants out then, eyes dampening as Cesaro's grip in his hair tightens. "…'th only you, baby, you know that…" Jack arches then, his stomach spasming uncomfortably as he tilts his neck up to reveal the collar Cesaro had given him years ago. From that day forward, Jack was his unconditional sub. But this play of theirs was new, toying with something that had become hot and licked deep in Jack's belly for years, but that he had kept secret for fear of judgment. Antonio would have none of that, though, assuring his love that being honest and showing himself in his entirety, even the kinky aspects, would only strengthen their romance and sex lives.
Sure, Cesaro was right. But Jack wouldn't admit that now, especially when he swore he could see yellow now, bladder full to the brim and his body shivering.
"Hold it." Cesaro says as a small, indecent whine escapes Jack's full pink lips. "Just a little longer…" No longer tugging on Jack's hair, but gently petting as he leans down, kissing that cute little freckled nose.
The next few minutes are like hell, but when an alarm goes off on Cesaro's phone, he clicks it off quickly, tugging on Jack's leash to pull the slightly larger and clearly distraught male into the bathroom. "There you go, my sweet, come on…"
And Jack is fumbling, his hands slipping and he nearly growls at Cesaro when he tries to help with the straps of his latex singlet, because he's a grown man dammit and he maybe a sub but he can undress himself until he can't. Until it's too late and mere centimeters from the toilet, Jack pisses himself.
He can't stop it, even if he desperately wanted to. All that time and effort, for 12 hours straight being forbid from relieving himself or else Cesaro would administer a more severe punishment and it was for nothing. Shoving his hands between his legs, his bladder and stomach a mess, his face hot and red as he threw Breeze around with ease in their Superstars match, feeling the fluid jostle inside.
All for nothing, because the latex is tight but it's not that tight and there's piss running down his left thigh, hot and warm and making his compression shorts sticky and nearly burning to his touch as he slides down to the floor, ass becoming damp with the remaining stream.
"I'm thorry, thir…d-didn'….didn't make i-it…" He's sniffling then, tears burning bright in fearful and wide blue eyes because he let his sir down again.
"Oh, Jackie…" And it's a husky rasp, accent heavier than usual as he creeps down, leash being forgotten mere inches away from Jack's piss puddle. "…you are just the sexiest thing I have ever laid eyes upon." He's palming himself then and Jack finds himself red for a whole other reason.