Bladder Pulsing Novels & Stories

Every dirty, shameful part of me. "I don't know if I can." "You can." He presses his palm against my lower belly. "Just let go. Give me everything." He presses down and I feel my bladder release. Hot liquid streams out of me, splashing onto the hardwood floor between my legs. My face burns with humiliation and arousal, watching him watch me, his eyes fixed on the stream flowing from my body.

My pulse thudding in my ears. Absolutely fucking fantastic!

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.

Aiden’s voice sounds distant as he tries to keep me conscious. The pain is excruciating—my skin itches, burns, and throbs as if I am being physically dismantled. To add to the distress, a colossal urge to urinate overwhelms me. I squirm in my seat, my heart pounding with the fear that I’ll lose control of my bladder.

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 expected him to step back and declare the exam finished, but instead he remained close to the table. "Your external and initial internal checks look healthy," he said. "However, to be thorough, I would like to check your response to stimulation. Sometimes irregular cycles relate to arousal patterns or tension in the pelvic floor." I blinked, unsure I had heard him correctly. "Stimulation?" He met my eyes directly. His green gaze was steady, professional, yet there was a new intensity behind it. "Yes. Many patients find it helpful during these visits. It helps me assess muscle response and blood flow. If you are uncomfortable with the idea, we can stop here and schedule further tests."

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.

The waves оf pleasure сame pulsating up frоm my testiсles and shоt оut with my juiсe, deep intо the infinitely wide, warm depth оf her lap, lоnging fоr fulfillment and соnсeptiоn. In the relieving tensiоn still deep inside her, I felt the pulsating and pumping соntraсtiоns оf her uterus, her mоuth pоunding against my glans tо absоrb the last drоp оf seeds. Her entire pelviс flооr seemed tо сramp with pleasure.

How sickening did you need to be? He angled the gun toward me and instantly, I felt my bladder fill and the strings tugging, ready to burst. I squeezed my legs together, stopping the trembling of my thighs. My chest constricted, my heart pounding weakly as my head began to throb. My eyes prickled, tears emerging from the underground. My breath came out in staggered gasps as if my lungs had forgotten the sole purpose for which it was made for.