Bladder Pulsing Novels & Stories

Derek’s hand presses once more against my stomach, firm, steady, as if testing it, and the pressure inside me answers by holding even tighter. Then, without warning, something shifts again, not like before, not a wave, not a surge. A single pulse hits from inside me, sharp and sudden, and all three of us react at once as it pushes outward with force that feels… deliberate.

Just the sound of my own breathing. The distant rustle of leaves. The quiet presence of the others around me. Then— That pulse. Faint. Deep in my chest. I focused on it. Carefully. It responded. Not strongly. Not violently like before. But enough. “What do you feel?” Adrian asked. “Something,” I whispered. “Follow it.” I tried. The pulse spread slightly, like a ripple in still water. It wasn’t overwhelming this time. It was… manageable. Controlled. I reached for it.

His fingers find my pulse with practiced ease. “Radial artery,” he says. “Normal rate is sixty to one hundred. Yours is elevated. Why?” “Nerves,” I answer. The word comes out thinner than I want. “Possibly.” He releases my wrist and moves to my neck, two fingers pressing gently beneath the angle of my jaw. “Carotid. Still elevated. Breathing is shallow. Pupils slightly dilated. All consistent with sympathetic activation.” He speaks as if he is dictating notes to a resident. My skin burns under every point of contact.

Seraya is already past the outer wall when the dim bond carries the faintest thing across the distance, so small it requires the seers' trained attention to confirm it is real rather than imagined. A pulse. Small and warm and carrying the specific quality of the person rather than the function. There and then gone. Araya holds the place in the chest where the pulse arrived and does not stop holding it.

The flushed, heated redness of my neck. His eyes caught my bare thighs for a moment before dragging back up to my face. He was a doctor. He read symptoms for a living. And in three seconds, I saw the exact moment he realized I was physically worked up. His pupils dilated. "You are out of breath." He murmured. "Your pupils are blown. Your pulse is hammering so hard I can see it in your neck." He tilted his head, his gaze turning dark and entirely too observant. "I interrupted something."

“You need to drink some water so your bladder swells up and then we can do the sono.” Helena and I went to the waiting room and took our seat for the time being. I needed to dink enough water so my bladder inflates and then hold back from going to the toilet so they get a clear picture of my uterus. I started by drinking slow sips of water so that I don’t need to rush to the toilet to throw up all the water that I’d drunk. Midway through our wait, Helena had to leave to take a call so I sat alone, sipping my water and waiting for the doctor to call me in so I could get this over with.

It was slow—one pulse every three seconds. "Walk to me, Clara," he commanded, standing near the mirrors at the far end of the room. I tried to move, but the weight of the spheres shifted with every step. The movement triggered a sharper, more intense pulse. I gasped, my free hand clutching at the edge of the desk to keep my balance. "Every step you take, they react to your muscle movement," he noted, his eyes tracking my struggle. "If you tense up, they pulse harder. If you try to hold back, they get heavier."

She continued to massage the base of my spine and, with the noise of the running water, it was impossible to hold back any longer. I felt the incredible surge through the length of my engorged solid cock as my wee surged up the restricted tube, leaving my eye as if an ejaculation which lasted until the flow subsided as my bladder emptied. The sensation heightened by her wanking my solid prick while I peed, pushing it downwards to aim at the floor.

Marcus adjusted the heart monitor leads, sticking fresh pads to her temples and under her breasts, the adhesive tugging chest hair she didn't have, cold gel seeping into skin. Electro-stim wires now spiderwebbed her body—clamps on nipples pinching sharp, pads framing her stretched labia, a probe eased into her urethra for bladder stim, the thin intrusion burning like fire as it seated. Sarah's breath hitched, monitor leaping to 125 bpm already, the probe's catheter bag filling with a dribble of her fluids tinted pink from friction. "Bladder capacity check," Harlan explained, flipping switches. Pulses fired in waves nipples jolting like bee stings, clit throbbing under labia pads, urethra vib

I snort — the smallest laugh, but real. His eyes soften at the sound. I push myself upright, slowly, carefully, even though my body feels steadier than it did last night. The moment I sit fully up— Something pulses. Not in the room. In me. A spark beneath my ribs, faint but sharp, like a heartbeat that isn’t mine. I stiffen. Kael notices immediately. “What?” I shake my head. “Something’s… different.” His whole body goes alert. “Different how?” I close my eyes, focusing.