vvank

[vvank]

Just imagine ...

You're just heading out onto your break at work when someone stops you. It's a cute coworker, someone you get along with well. They're eagerly talking to you, completely blind to your desperation. As they're telling you about their weekend plans, you're meekly replying, trying to look normal while your stomach flips. You were putting off your break trying to finish one last thing for far too long and you don't dare move your legs.

Realising you're not as excited as you are they resign themselves to letting you leave. But not before giving you a friendly smack on the shoulder and broad smile.

"See you later! Take care'!"

The shock of the impact ripples through your body as your ass gives out. Hot mush starts filling the seat of your pants, your coworker still holding onto your shoulder as the sound and smell fills the air.

[vvank]

thinking about when i controlled my partner’s bladder in person and ….damn.

it started about mid-day i think; i was still at home, so over text. i told him when to start holding good and early so that when i’d get to his place that evening, he’d already be nice and desperate. we went back and forth all day texting, with me telling him to drink more water and reminding him how far away his relief was going to be, him updating me how bad it was getting with every hour. i got to his place maybe around seven that night, he’d been holding for a good four hours by then i think — he has a notoriously small bladder, which i tease him for often, so this was quite a feat already. once i got there, the real torment could start. he was already asking me for relief , while also being desperately horny for it. he was constantly kissing me, touching me, hoping maybe that would sway me to let him go. of course, that wasn’t happening.

about an hour later, i had to pee. i’d been drinking electrolytes for a while, which always go right through me. i told him multiple times that i was starting to feel an urge, though it wasn’t terrible, how good it was going to feel when i got to piss and he didn’t. it was driving him crazy. i enjoyed that for a bit while building up my own need. eventually, i told him to get in the bathtub, leaving on just his underwear. i stripped down and climbed on top of him. his dick was so hard with anticipation. he’d been begging me to pee on him for days. i straddled his lap, grinding on him a little just to tease him. Then right over his dick, i started pissing. i was so turned on, it took some effort to get going, but quickly i pissed all over his lap while he whimpered and clung onto me. i told him he better keep holding—though i was sure feeling my warm piss soaking into his underwear was making it so much worse. and it was. i told him to get up and rinse off. the water from the shower head was even more torture. for a second, his legs buckled and i was sure he was about to lose it. but instead, a huge drop of pre-cum dribbled out instead, sliding from the tip of his hard cock down his leg. i praised him for that; my pussy was throbbing.

i made him dry off and get redressed. i had him wearing gray sweatpants, obviously, so any leaks would be nice and obvious. we laid down in his bed, and i got on top of him again, kissing him hard and putting all my weight on his bladder. he kept squirming and groaning, struggling to even kiss me back while he was this desperate. it was so adorable. i kept this up for a while, and to my surprise, he still hadn’t leaked. at this point, it was far past how long he’d ever held before. we moved to the couch, along the way i forced him to fill up his water bottle so he could keep drinking. just the sound of the water from the rap rushing into the bottle had him pressing his legs together and begging me to let it end. of course i wasn’t going to. i reminded him, “you know i’m not going to let you piss voluntarily. you’re going to hold it until you absolutely can’t anymore.”

we sat back on the couch together, and i alternated climbing over him to press into his bladder with all my body weight, and sitting beside him stroking his dick through his pants. every once in a while, for good measure, i’d press down hard on his bladder with both hands and he’d cry out in pain. by this point, he was nearly beyond words. bordering delirious, he could barely put a sentence together. he was still trying to beg me to let him piss, but the question kept falling short as he could only laugh and grind his teeth. he finished another full water bottle. i was so impressed.

“do you want me to-to fill it up again?” he managed to ask. of course i did.

standing up from the couch almost pushed him over the edge as the gravity shift hit him. he had to stand still with his legs crossed to regain control before we could go back to the kitchen. but again, to my surprise, he made it. i praised him for how good he was being, and that had him even more whimpering and delirious. it was so deliciously pathetic, i was losing my mind. he filled up the bottle again, each painful second of the water flowing made him beg me more and more. when he straightened back up, even that slight shift had him falling apart. this is when he started to lose it.

he stood in the kitchen—and i say “stood” generously. he was constantly moving back and forth, alternating feet and crossing his legs over and over again while he told me he wasn’t going to last much longer. finally, to my absolute pleasure, a leak hit. it was enough to soak a little wet spot through the front of his pants. he begged harder—he couldn’t be still at all, and now that the first leak had come out, i knew there was no way he’d last much longer.

but still, i blocked the path to the bathroom. he begged more, and another spurt burst out. it slid down his leg, and though it was a faint enough stream to not show its path, i could see it darken the cuff of his pants around his ankle. i let him move to the bathroom, and he shuffled carefully along, leaking a bit more with every step.

“we may be in the tub now, but you better keep holding,” i told him as i pushed him against the wall of the bathtub. he groaned, falling back against the wall and barely able to hold himself up. i leaned my body fully into his, pressing on his bladder as i slid my leg between his.

his head fell onto my shoulder; his body was so run down he couldn’t support himself anymore. a bigger spurt jetted out, pouring directly onto my leg. he moaned and kept on begging. finally, right against his ear, i told him he could let go.

the floodgates opened immediately. he started pissing full force. the hot stream ran down both of our legs where i kept my thigh pressed between his. he must’ve pissed for a minute while he clung desperately to me, both arms hugged tight around me. i was the only thing holding him upright at this point; his legs were giving out beneath him, but i had him pinned to the wall firmly enough he couldn’t fall. once all the piss was drained from his body, he couldn’t stop thanking me. he was still completely delirious, but now from relief rather than desperation.

i gave him a minute to come back, just holding him like that while i savored the feeling of his soaked pants on my skin. when he was able to speak sentences again, he told me how orgasmic had felt to let go. he said it felt so good, he didn’t even need to come after that. we rinsed off, and i took him back to bed to cuddle and praise him for what a good boy he’d been for me.

[vvank]

Fear wetting but the person who wets themselves is so caught up in the moment that they're not even the one who notices first -- someone else points it out and now they've got humiliation on top of the shock and fear that caused them to pee their pants in the first place.

[vvank]

Thinking about how PTSD affects the bladder, causing an uptick in bedwetting and urinary incontinence. I can picture someone resting, lying on their side as they subtly begin to stir in their sleep. The sheets and top blankets shuffle with the writhing movements. The nightmares worsen and they're shy of thrashing. Their heartbeat is elevated and pounding profusely in the enclosure of their ribcage, nausea is pooling in the pits of their restless stomach. They awaken perspiring, genitals twitching as the flow of warm urine stops.

They draw back the blankets, staring at the deep discoloration of their bottoms and then the bedding below them. They're damp– uncomfortably so– and they turn, shifting their hips as they ready to exit the bed. That's when I reach for them, trailing my fingers along the length of their leg and egging them back to me. They bite back whimpers, attempting to preserve dignity but it matters little. I take my hands between their legs and I pull their thighs apart by the knees. The humidity envelops quickly, warranting a lopsided smile and an accompanied snicker. They exhale outward as they brace against the bed, glaring elsewhere to avoid my lecherous stare.

Yet, their attention draws back to me as my hand curls between their legs, rubbing the wet fabric against their cooling skin. Their expression says more than their words could. My thoughtful hand slides up their pelvis and past their genitals, applying pressure to ripen embarrassment. Urine beads and spills onto my hand, yet the rubbing only roughens. They're panting now, toes angling behind me as their muscles strain and adapt to pleasure. They're oversensitive to the excess of sensations and they fail to masquerade their orgasm as discomfort.

[vvank]

A sub being spanked with a full bladder. Whatever they are told to lean over is digging and pressing into their tender abdomen. Their groan of discomfort turns into a gasp when the first hit lands. The impact jostles the pent up liquid in them, but the stinging pain has their muscles weakening. A barrage of spanking starts up, there's no pauses for them to regain their composure. A slap near their sensitive, fluttering cunt causes the first leak. They whine in distress as they clench as hard as they can to stop the flow, but another slap ruins their efforts again. Now little spurts are being forced out with every impact. “P-please, I gotta go–” Another hit. Another dribble. “I'm gonna pee myself!” They cry out like the dom isn't already aware. The sub thinks this is just a mistake, but there was no avoiding it. A final bruising spank lands and they burst. They begin to sob as they frantically piss all over themself. The heat so similar to the burning red of their ass cheeks.

[vvank]

i think the 2 brands of priest kink are

1) a priest who has power over others, priest who makes you kneel and serve him for Absolution. confident with God on his side

2) a priest who is humiliated and disgusted by his unholy desires. who prays for hours to get rid of his sin, but still falters, still craves

[vvank]

Fingers clasped in prayer around a rosary a white knuckle grip. The words are muttered with an urgency as the smell of incense and arousal hangs heavy in the air.

The pleasure is overwhelming as my fingers curl inside you. The little corner of the convent chapel being hidden but nothing and no one can hide under the Lord’s watchful eye.

Another bead slips through your fingers, a Hail Mary muttered though the words are jumbled and far from holy. Your pleasure crests as the Amen leaves your lips, choked and desperate.

It feels like ascension and in that moment you understand why it’s called divine ecstasy

[vvank]

Me, flirting: Have you thought about wearing a clerical collar? Have you worn a clerical collar? Will you wear a clerical collar? When will you w-

[vvank]

I appear to have been clobbered by an unexpected priest kink.

Something about a man who wants you so bad he’ll break all his vows to get it. The idea of him, hot with shame as he fantasizes about you. Finally snapping and pinning you against the wall, rutting into you with years of pent up frustration.

Or a man who spent years not even considering sex until he met you, and now he’s like a teenage boy, begging you to touch him. He cums all over your hand and cries and thanks you and begs forgiveness in one breath.

Or maybe he’s a bishop, someone high up in the church and used to taking what he wants. A man who locks you in the chapel and forces your legs apart. Everything he does is godly, so you muffle your cries and let him find heaven in your pussy.

And of course, the way you have to hide your swelling belly after his seed takes root inside you. You can’t compromise the reputation of a man of god.

[vvank]

“you are a gift from god, you are my gift. he sent you to me.” while he bruises my cervix >>

[vvank]

okay but listen. 'acolyte' as a sub title. divine dom calling their sub a good little acolyte. listen. listen. are you listening

[vvank]

if my body is a temple then why isn’t there a priest inside it

[vvank]

wearing a collar not as a sign of submission or ownership but as a sign of restraint, a symbol of self-control. wearing a collar when you top because you could be breaking them, you could be taking them apart piece by piece with hands and teeth but you're behaving. Wearing a collar when you dom because to show that you are tame, that even with all the punishment and sadism you are still being controlled. the jingle of the hardware with each thrust or blow a reminder that there could always be something worse. A reminder that this is still you acting domesticated

[vvank]

misc tummy drawings, trying to practice drawing em a bit more lately

[vvank]

make me hold it til i'm begging for relief then take me to the bathroom and let me release a single explosive burst of almost clear pee before i have to grit my teeth and wrench my holding muscles shut again, panting and whining as my bladder furiously throbs and fights to expel the rest of this ocean inside me. you tell me i'm such a good girl as i quiver and squirm my way through dressing and washing my hands. shivers run down the length of my spine as the water flows over my wrists and you press my straw to my lips again, cooing at me when i gulp greedily. "now, remember, everyone thinks you're empty because you just got to go potty, so i better not see any squirming." you smirk at me as i finish the rest of my drink and bob helplessly in place, dreading the prospect of acting like i'm empty when i'm so, so, so full.

[vvank]

Normalize diapers in college. Wear pull ups to study hours and never leave your desk. Get used to looking around the library and seeing someone make a silly face when they're having an accident. Make it trendy to not give a fuck about crinkles or bulges. Everyone's brain is already overloaded with more important things. Let this one thing go. Just wet yourself and keep working. That's way more convenient, isn't it? So much easier than getting up every hour to use the toilet. The seat of your diaper is now warm and comfy, and you can just sit there until you're all done with your work. Just piss.

[vvank]

Characters who go from desperately squirming to suddenly still as they near their limit, subsequently alerting everyone who's watching them that they're about to have an accident 👌