just where I post nsfw material, mostly words and pics, look through at your own discretion, and I'm good with any pronouns I follow from iamascaryhuman, 2001 for those that check age
When heās addicted to fucking you with your bladder achingly full because of how tight it makes you as you desperately try to hang on to your bodily function. He loves the hot bulge of your full bladder against his cock inside you. He told you this morning he was going fuck your tight little bladder. Heās made sure you have been drinking all day juice, water, iced coffee, Gatorade - you are frantic to piss and he keeps hitting your bladder with every thrust while you cry desperately. If only your wrists werenāt tied to the bed.
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The way I've conditioned myself to ask for permission every time I need to cum has gotten me so far that I even do it when I'm alone, just begging the invisible entity in my bedroom to let me cum
The puddle spread quickly, steaming, until it lapped at the soles of his shoes.
He was already bursting.
Every muscle in his lower body was tense, thighs squeezed together, breath shallow. His belt dug cruelly into his abdomen, pressing into the rock-hard swell of his overfull bladder. He sat hunched on the edge of a low bench, jaw tight, hands gripping his knees. His hair clung to the sides of his flushed face.
And the worst part?
He wasnāt alone.
āYouāre squirming,ā the voice behind him said, amused. Playful. Dangerous.
āShut up.ā His voice cracked. His legs shifted restlessly, one heel tapping the floor. "Donāt.ā
āDonāt what?ā The other leaned closer, breath brushing his ear. āDonāt mention how you're shaking? Or how red your face is? Orā¦ā
A hand slid around his waist. He flinched.
āDonāt touchāā he snapped, but the hand was already there, fingers pressing gently against his lower stomach.
It was like being punched. The pressure sent an electric jolt through his body, and a hot, shameful spurt escaped before he could stop itājust enough to dampen his underwear. His legs snapped shut, hands flying to his crotch. He let out a low, desperate whimper.
āOhhhā¦ you really are full,ā the other said, mockingly tender. āIt must hurt.ā
He bit his lip hard. His eyes shimmered. He couldnāt speak.
Then the hand pushed harder.
He doubled forward with a cry. Another jet of urine forced its way out of him, soaking into the front of his pants. His muscles trembled. The teasing voice didnāt stop.
āYou should just let it go,ā they whispered. āYou know youāre not gonna make it.ā
He shook his head furiously, tears slipping down his cheeks. āN-no. I can stillāā
But his body had reached its limit.
It started slowāa few more hot spurts, unstoppable now, soaking through his jeans. Then, with a long, broken sob, the floodgates opened.
A gush tore through him. His whole body jerked as piss burst out with a loud hiss, pouring into his jeans with force. The heat spread instantly, soaking down his thighs and pooling beneath him. The sound was obsceneāsplattering, gushing, the wet hiss echoing off the walls.
He couldnāt stop. Couldnāt breathe. The relief was dizzying, overwhelming. He let out a sound somewhere between a moan and a cry, slumping forward as the piss thundered out of him, drenching everything. His belt pressed cruelly against the stream, splitting it so it poured in all directionsādown his legs, across the seat, onto the floor.
He sat there, soaked, panting, face flushed and streaked with tears, pants heavy with shameful warmth.
The one who teased him didnāt speak nowāonly watched, lips parted in awe, as the boy shook and whimpered through it. A full minute passed before the hiss finally faded into dripping. Even then, his body gave a few exhausted spurts before it stopped.
āSee?ā the other finally whispered. āDidnāt that feel good?ā
At first, he thought he could wait. He always could. He was good at itātoo good, maybe. Quiet. Controlled. The kind of person whoād bite their tongue until it bled before admitting they needed something.
Even when his bladder began to ache, he stayed silent. Even when the ache turned sharpāgnawing at his insides with each passing minuteāhe kept his legs still and jaw tight, bouncing one foot rhythmically to distract himself from the pressure building behind his belt.
It wasnāt until he started sweating that he realized he might have made a mistake. He sat curled on the floor, pretending to scroll through his phone, body drawn in tight. The long sleeves of his shirt were damp under his arms. His belt pressed cruelly into the hard swell of his abdomen. His thighs were clenched so tightly his muscles had begun to tremble.
He couldnāt sit still anymore.
He stood too fast and immediately doubled over with a gasp, one hand flying to his lower stomach. The jolt of movement had sent a hot surge of pressure down to his groin. He cursed under his breath, breath ragged.
Someone noticed.
āHeyā¦ you okay?ā
He stiffened. Didnāt look at them. Couldnāt.
āIām fine,ā he said quickly. His voice was thin. Brittle.
The other person raised a brow. āYou donāt look fine.ā
He didnāt answer. Just turned away, pacing in tight circles. Every step was agony. His bladder was screaming. Full to the brim, maybe past it.
āDo you need toāā
āDonāt say it,ā he snapped, voice shaking. āIām fine.ā
But he wasnāt.
And five minutes later, he was hunched behind a pile of storage boxes, shaking hands fumbling with a half-empty water bottle heād found on the floor. His belt had finally been ripped open, jeans tugged just low enough to expose the tip of his cock, but his bladder didnāt wait.
The second he angled himself toward the mouth of the bottle, he let go.
The relief was explosive.
Urine gushed out of him in a violent, endless stream, crashing into the plastic with a sharp hiss. His body sagged from the force of it. His knees buckled. He gaspedāhigh, desperate, half-moan.
The stream didnāt stop. It kept going, surging with each pulse of his bladder, the heat of it stinging his thighs and fogging the inside of the bottle. It filled fast. The bottle wasnāt even meant for thisāit was barely 500ml, and heād been holding more.
Panic twisted in his chest.
āNo, no, fuckāā he whispered, voice trembling.
The steaming liquid surged toward the top. His hands were slick with sweat. His fingers trembled. He tried to stopāsqueezed his muscles hard, tried to cut the streamābut his body refused.
It overflowed.
Hot piss spilled over the rim of the bottle, pouring down his hand, spraying onto the floor with wet splashes. He gasped again, shame burning through his face. He couldnāt stop it. The stream just kept comingāsplattering across the floor, wetting his jeans, pooling beneath him.
He was crying now. Softly, lips trembling, shoulders shaking as he pissed himself into an overflowing bottle like some desperate animal.
āF-fuck,ā he gasped, breath catching. āFuckingāshitāwhy canāt Iāā
Behind him, a quiet voice.
ā...You shouldāve said something.ā
He didnāt turn around.
He jolted, nearly dropped the bottle. The stream finally slowed, tapering off into weak, exhausted dribbles. He was soakedāhis hand, his thighs, the floor. The bottle was full, his bladder finally empty, his heart hammering.
āI didnāt want you to see me like this,ā he said hoarsely.
A pause. Then:
āI already did.ā
He clenched his eyes shut. His ears burned.
The voice was closer now. Soft. Measured. A little awkward.
ā...You really couldnāt hold it anymore, huh?ā
He let out a hollow laugh, eyes downcast. āObviously.ā
āStillā¦ if it makes you feel better,ā they added, āI think you actually looked kindaāimpressive.ā
He gave them a lookāblushing, bitter, still crying.
Pfft whatever girl *force feeds you a muscle relaxer and takes off your clothes and oils up my paws and gives you a massage and bathes you and dries you off and strokes your hair and tightens a collar around your neck and carries you to a dog bed at the foot of my desk and gives you a blanket so you don't get cold and kisses your forehead and tells you that you've behaved so well for me and*
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I absolutely LOVE LOVE LOVE both the self destructive possibilities with purposely letting out leaks while super desperate to try and maintain control and the sadistic aspact of someone controlling you and making you let out leaks even if it'd make you lose control or youre just too desperate to handle it.
Being super desperate out in public, wearing light trousers and not being anywhere near a bathroom.. Trying to subtly let small leaks into your underwear to keep your bladder from reaching completely full.. It could go so wrong so quickly but it's so addictive š« One leak being particularly difficult to stop, going on for a little longer than intended and all you can feel as you move around is your soaked underwear, not easily being able to check if you have a visible wet spot on your clothes that others can ses š¤š¤š¤
On the other hand..
Someone controlling your bladder (would work in person or over messages) and them knowing you're in public and knowing you're desperate, making you let out leaks of different lengths and of increasing difficulty, not caring if you're embarrassed to be soaking your underwear around people, not caring or giving any leniency when you say you don't think you can do it again, or you don't think you could stop if you tried again, or if you leak for as long as they tell you it'll soak through to your trousers and everyone will see... š« š« š« š¤š¤š¤
Them making you relax all your muscles and try not to lose it. Making you let out little drips and spurts, and when you're at your absolute limit, making you try to fully let go for a second and then immidately stop. If you succeed then they make you do it again for 3 seconds, then 5.
When you tell them you can feel it starting to drip down the inside of your thighs and you can tell it's soaked through your trousers and everyone can probably see, they make you do it again. And again. Until you can't stop the leaks anymore and you're straight up pissing yourself because they told you to š« (except they pretend they thought you could hold it and tell you you should've had better control despite the way they bullied your bladder and kept you full on drinks the whole time)
since i didn't say it explicitly, i should probably clarify. a human is a kind of animal, and is no exception to 'can be trained'. humans are not special. there is no magical "free will" that protects human minds from such 'manipulation' as 'communication'.
sometimes a human may be more inclined to not perform the behaviors you're looking for, but a human is a pretty intelligent creature so is usually quite responsive to conditioning once the training begins.
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thinking about how hot it would be to make each other worse. horribly intense switch-for-switch relationship where we both just keep pushing and pushing, using every dirty trick in the book to get the other to agree to this week's fucked up scene... until we don't even recognize ourselves.
I like this idea except for me it's more subtle and covert. Both know the other craves slipping further into corruption, and so they slowly coerce and manipulate the other, bit by bit, hoping they don't notice the water beginning to boil. Except they both get so caught up in secretly dragging the other down they don't realize themselves also being helplessly made worse as they continually add weight to their own anchors.
Btw rape play is okay not because "I'm a victim and this is how I cope," it's okay because it's play pretend. We are play pretend. We are just adults playing adult versions of house or doctor or firefighter. It's fucking play pretend.
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REMINDER: in this heat your body loses essential salts and electrolytes very rapidly.
Therefore, lick that sweaty trans woman's armpits. She's doing you a service by being a natural salt lick and should be rewarded properly for helping you stay hydrated.
Obviously I'd never want to sexualise or infantalise anyone's physical or intellectual disabilities,,, unless you're into it in which case awww your lil handsies don't work like they should? You get so so sleepy all the time? You stumble over your words and repeat yourself? You can't think good like you used to and it makes you so so grumpy and frustrated? It's okay little thing mama is here I'll brush your teeth and wash your hair and tie your shoe laces and listen to you talk endlessly and make you feel so good in that special way only mamas can, just trust me and it'll all be ok
