Bladder Pulsing Novels & Stories

My heartbeat falls into rhythmic pulses of pain, stretching out in a sharp stabbing pain. “ Olivia,” my lips parted in a shallow gasps.

The first time Evelyn felt the echo, it was almost gentle. A faint pressure under her ribs, a flicker that wasn’t hers—like someone had brushed a finger along the inside of her chest. Then it was gone. She told herself it was exhaustion, or stress, or caffeine, but none of those things made her hand tremble when she poured her coffee. None of them explained why, every few minutes, her pulse stuttered out of sync—hers, then not hers.

My pace stumbles for half a second when the bond pulses again. Pain. Sharp. Weakening. Something has happened to him.

I don’t know what she thought but she nodded, “Ok.” Sona helped me to lift my head a bit by putting pillow under my head and brought a tumbler and my toothbrush with toothpaste. I brushed my teeth and washed my face! She took away the tumbler, tooth brush, towel and the mug with half water. Then returning back, she asked, “Are you sure you don’t even need to empty your bladder? You have not peed since yesterday noon!” I actually needed to pee and my stomach was paining because of my swollen bladder which was crying to be emptied but I had no idea how to help it?

Just to keep the way he tasted on my tongue. A sharp, stabbing pressure bloomed behind my ribs. Not from the bullet. Deeper. I squeezed my eyes shut. My pulse hammered. The monitor sped up. Chirp-chirp-chirp-chirp. "Don't," I hissed to my own chest. "Not now."

Pulsing. Like a heartbeat. And then— It stopped.

Instead of relenting, he pressed his thumb hard against that spot just below my navel, right above the pubic bone-directly over my bladder! "Ugh!" An intense, irresistible pressure surged from within, snapping the last thread of my strained self-control like a twig. Between his verbal commands, the vibrator's relentless assault on my urethra, his fingers tormenting my sensitive areas, and now this deliberate pressure on my bladder-these four ruthless "assists" proved too much for my long-suffering sphincter muscles. They surrendered completely. A scalding torrent erupted with near-explosive force, bursting past my abused urethra in an unstoppable flood-utterly beyond my will to contain.

It flooded into her, mixing with what little she'd retained, creating an overwhelming pressure that made her eyes water. "Fuck... it's too much," she gasped, but her cunt clenched visibly, leaking fresh arousal down her crack. "That's the point." Marcus withdrew the tube and replaced it with two of his fingers, pressing upward against the swollen bladder wall. "Push when I say. Everything comes out through me tonight."

My imminent release. Orgasm bursts free, surging through helpless flesh as my body spasms blindly. My cunt pulsates and throbs, and pleasure ricochets through belly and core.

“Not dangerous right now, but higher than I would like.” “I can feel it,” I said. “Mostly at night.” “Stress does that,” he said. He checked my pulse and temperature, then moved closer. His hands pressed gently along my abdomen, measuring, adjusting, mapping what he felt beneath my skin. The baby reacted sharply. The pressure sat high under my ribs. I had felt it for days. The constant fullness. The way my bladder never felt empty. The tapping that felt like hiccups too high to be hiccups.