The Doctor is In

You are quickly shaken from the reverie brought on by the initial penetration as the you feel the probe cease its advance at the unconsciously, but still very tightly clenched muscle keeping your water from flowing. He backs off slightly, maybe 1/2 inch before trying and again failing to gain entry into your bladder.

You again hear the now familiar "Tsk".

"Now, Pet, this can happen in one of two ways. I happen to know you are as intelligent as you are beautiful, so I will not demean that intelligence by being so crass as to enumerate them to you. I will once again warn you, however, that should you force me to adopt the... 'more difficult path', it will influence me not at all, but you may have to bear the consequences of such a choice for some time to come. I am not a patient man, my Pet. Choose."

Feeling the pinch as the catheter bumps up against your urethral sphincter, you will yourself to relax, but your efforts are in vain. You are unable to make yourself relax.

If the Doctor can read anything from your efforts, he doesn't say anything to that effect, but after a few additional seconds waiting he begins to apply pressure once more. Your body resists, but this time he doesn't back off and continues to push. In the mirror, you can see him slightly twisting the tube back and forth, and the pressure becomes intense, bordering on painful. You make another effort to relax the muscle and the tube quickly slips through the rubbery ring of muscle with a pronounced sting before you reflexively clench down, but this time, you can feel that the muscle is not able to contract to its normal closed position. It feels very strange and gives you a powerful urge to urinate to expel the invader from your body. As you slowly adapt to the intense sensations, you are aware of a new burning around that muscle and you understand that having to push past the sphincter without it being fully relaxed as most likely caused some scraping of the tissues by the passing eyelets around the tip.

The Doctor sighs in pronounced satisfaction and once more busies himself. He picks up the larger of the two syringes he had prepped before, this one filled with sterile saline. He places the tapered tip of the syringe into the plastic nozzle in the unclamped middle stub of the other end of the tube and he depresses the plunger. The fluid disappears into the tube slowly, as if overcoming significant pressure fighting the flow, but you eventually begin to feel a gradual intensifying of the sensation of fullness in your bladder. Once the syringe has been fully emptied into the tube (a glance at the markings on the side of the syringe indicate it held 50ccs of water), he twists the tip of the syringe and disengages it from the tube.

He places the empty syringe back on his tray and then, to your shock, he tugs on the tube dangling from your piss slit. The sensation of the rubber sliding through your previously virgin passage is SO INTENSE! An inch or so comes back out of you, but it quickly stops, and you feel that tug inside your body and you realize what must have happened. Similar to the inflatable donut rings on the nozzle still firmly lodged in your ass to prevent it from slipping further in or out, the fluid he injected into the tube must have inflated a ring or balloon that is preventing the tip from sliding back out past the entrance to your bladder.

The Doctor is once again giving you his complete attention. "There you have it, my Pet! I'm sure you're JUST as excited as I am to know that the preparations are now complete. We are now ready for the main event!"

Wait.... preparations? Main event? What does he mean?!?

"I have just one very important question for you, my Pet. Did you remember to use the bathroom before we got started?" he begins to laugh. The sound is jarring in its cruelty. He pauses and glances at the clock.

A tear of embarrassment slithers down your cheek. It's path made easier by the ones that came before it and you feel it merge with the saliva leaking out from the ball-gag and the faint taste of salt floods your taste buds.

You shake your head "no". Now that your attention is directed to it, you can feel that your bladder is full, nearly to bursting.

Filled with a potent mixture of terror and excitement, you breathe in deeply and hold it.

"Ten Mississippi."

The Doctor's smile grows wider. His gaze is locked on your own. You try to project courage. His holds cruelty and perhaps mild appreciation.

Time stretches interminably. Your heart is hammering and your body screams for oxygen. Ten seconds feels like an eternity.

"One Mississippi."

The Doctor smiles widely. "Only very few of the patients who come to me for treatment have the courage to see it through once they have some inkling of what it entails. I'm very proud of you, my Pet." Without further commentary he proceeds once more.

He stands and picks up another tube, this one clear, from the tray and removes it from its packaging. He unrolls it and approaches your upper body for the first time. He takes one end of the tube a bends over your face. He reaches to your mouth and grasps something on the rubber (ball?) gagging your mouth and begins to tug. It is apparently a plug because you immediately feel air entering your mouth once he has pulled it free. You frantically inhale more deeply, taking advantage of the additional airflow, but only for a moment as he takes the end of the tube and inserts it into the hole in your gag. You are still able to draw in a tiny amount of air through the tube, but it is much more difficult to do so.

This does not last long as he returns to his stool between your legs and picks up the yellow tube dangling from your peehole. Your little piss slit is swollen with irritation and grips the tube like a tiny mouth sucking on a straw. You see him carefully pinch one of the clamped tube stubs and removes the clamp. He carefully reduces the pressure of his pinch on the tube and you quickly see urine begin to flow from the end of the tube and he immediately compresses the end once again.

He looks you in the face and gives you his most sinister grin yet. Without a word, he takes the other end of the clear tube and, to your mounting horror, stabs the tip into the receiver of your piss tube. With a shuddering breath, he releases his pinch.

Your adrenaline spikes without warning. You are utterly overwhelmed by what is happening and somewhat mortified at the response of your body. You are dripping continuously from your pussy. You can't remember when you've ever been more aroused. You are desperate to cum, but you know that's unlikely to be in your immediate future.

Instead, you want to drink in what the Doctor is offering. With this in mind, you screw down your courage and you do your absolute best to tell the doctor with your eyes in the limited movement you have with the muscles in your face that you are not impressed. In your mind, you are screaming at the top of your lungs, "BEIGE, MOTHERFUCKER!"

Immediately, you see yellow fluid begin to travel through the tube... up your body... towards your gagged mouth. You shudder in anticipation. Wanting to give him a little taste of his own medicine, you decide to play this up a bit. You begin panting deeply, as if in panic. You shake your head as much as possible, your whole body thrashing within your restraints, letting out frantic noises of negation on your exhales....

But, when the urine floods your mouth, you shock him. Your breathing slows and you let out a deliciously slow moan of pleasure. You suck on the gag as hard as you can, which he can see from the collapsing of your cheeks from each suck. You exaggeratedly roll your eyes back in your head and then focus on his face. His expression is priceless and you want to capture it in your mind forever. He is utterly stunned. You can't be sure, but you think you catch a glimpse of that softer side of him he showed you ever so briefly. His eyes seem unaccountably laden with moisture. Your eyes radiate your glee as, even bound and helpless, you are capable of turning the tables on the unflappable Doctor. You continue to suck and swallow loudly until you feel your bladder empty except for the remaining sensation of the tube lodged firmly in your urethral sphincter and the (tiny?) balloon keeping it from slipping out.

The Doctor recovers his composure with a barely perceptible tremor. "You have outdone yourself, my Pet. You have surprised me in a way I did not think I could be." It feels like he may even be slightly disturbed by what you have done, but only momentarily. A smile wider than you have previously seen breaks his face nearly in two. "I can see that my usual treatment program may be.... inadequate... to a woman of your obviously refined.... taste."

"Oh my Pet, I had not planned for this, but as Fate would have it, I am nonetheless prepared to give you EXACTLY what you need." He once again walks behind you. You try to follow what he's doing in the mirror, but you can only see vague motions in the shadows outside the pool of light surrounding you. You hear some slight sounds of objects being shuffled and he returns with another couple of plastic wrapped objects and places them on his tray.

He then takes down the pail of water, still streaming with condensation. He takes a couple of steps to the side and pours the contents of the pail into a floor drain you had not previously noticed, but he carefully strains the water through his fingers, keeping the ice (!!!) that had been mixed with the water inside the pail. He walks away a final time and returns with a huge clear glass pitcher filled with neon yellow liquid. He dips two fingers into the top of the pitcher and swipes them under your nose and smirks at you. The unmistakable scent of urine fills your nasal passage.

He then dumps the pitcher into the pail and hangs it back from the hook, with your mind ever-clearer from whatever drugs he used to render you unconscious to bring you here, you can now clearly hear the sound of the ice clinking against the sides of the pail.

"I was never a Boy Scout, Pet, but I definitely see the sense in their motto. I am ALWAYS prepared."

With no additional fanfare, he picks up a length of translucent tubing and attaches it to the spigot at the bottom of the pail. He turns the valve on the spigot and the tube immediately begins to fill with deep yellow piss. When it approaches the other end of the tube, he again adjusts the valve, stopping the flow. He takes the end and attaches it to one of the tubes hanging from the plug wedged firmly in your ass.

He turns to you, smiles, and turns the valve on the spigot. You feel your body being flooded with icy liquid. Oddly, it doesn't feel like it's filling your ass so much as your abdomen. Your musings on the sensations are abruptly interrupted when an intense cramp rips through your abdomen. You instinctively bear down, trying to expel the shocking cold liquid that has triggered the cramps, but nothing happens. You CAN feel your ass filling, but not as distinctly as you can feel the liquid continuing to pour into your guts. Another cramp tears through you and you let out a loud screech through your nostrils. Long moments pass before your quivering muscles release and you let out a shuddering sigh of relief.

The Doctor, meanwhile, has not been idle. You see he has placed a clamp on the tube connecting your bladder to your gag. What's the point of that? You're empty! All thoughts of that are swept aside as he unbuttons his lab coat, revealing the pristinely white button-down shirt covering his lean torso, the crisply pressed khaki slacks encasing his legs.... and the perfect outline of his apparently VERY hard cock silhouetted against his pant leg. He reaches for the buckle of his belt, unbuckles it, undoes the button closure of his slacks and unzips them. Opening his pants, he brusquely pulls his black boxer-briefs down to his thighs, giving you the first glimpse of his cock as it bounces into the open air.

The shocks keep coming as you see a nearly identical tube emerging from the tip of his urethra as the one coming from yours. The only difference is that his only has two prongs hanging from the end, instead of the three on yours. The fork of his is wedged tightly in the hole on his engorged glans, his cock seemingly trying to devour the large end so that it continue to grow and expand. Another cramp seizes your body, but your eyes are riveted. You push away the pain and the significant discomfort of the continued flood of freezing piss in your body.

He picks up another clamp and with a grimace, pulls on the tube where it exits his body, freeing a slight inch of tube where he attaches the clamp. He grasps what you realize is a plug in the end of the drainage tube and twists it free, a few drops of his piss falling to the floor. He picks up the packaged object he had retrieved earlier, separates the packaging and pulls out a device that has TWO of the ribbed ends the rubber tubing attaches two. He examines it and spins it in his hands before nodding to himself and briefly showing it to you. On the side of the white plastic object, you see a line with a single arrowhead on one end etched in black on the side of it. He says two words, "One-way," but his trademark smirk appears strained. Without further explanation, he inserts one end of the object into the clamped tube sticking out of his still-straining cock. He removes the clamp from the tubing and his cock instantly swallows the inch of tubing, the fork once again nested in his hungry hole.

Without comment, he grasps the tube leading into your body and plunges the other end of the connector attached to HIS tube into the free port on yours. He resumes eye contact with you. "I've never done this with anyone, my Pet, but you have... moved me." Still with his eyes locked on yours, he does... something, but you cannot see. His body is now blocking the mirror that had allowed which you have been observing yourself.

You feel the scalding hot fluid entering your body and you are stunned. The contrast to the icy cold piss still flowing into your bowels is staggering. The heat slowly filling your bladder is intense, almost as if he were feverish. Maybe it isn't actually hotter, maybe it's just your awareness of the source of that heat, his heat, coming directly from his inner-most depths flowing directly into yours. Filling you. Claiming you. It keeps coming. You are torn between the agony of your bowels, so full of fluid you feel like you will burst, so cold... and the ecstasy of his essence filling you, searing heat countering the cold agony.

His stare continues to devour your countenance. With a sudden gasping, shuddering breath, he lurches forward. His left hand grasps your throat and squeezes.... while the right.... the right comes to rest on your pubic mound. You can feel him supporting his weight on that hand as if his legs will no longer fully support him, while his thumb wriggles, desperately parting your folds to find your swollen nub and he strokes it... HARD.

Your moan is deep. Guttural. Primal. Almost immediately, you feel the muscles in your body begin to clench, heralding an imminent release. Your eyes roll back in the their sockets. Unfortunately, this brings into crystal focus a reality that shatters the relief you felt when you realized you would get to cum... Your spasming muscles are applying insane pressure on your over-inflated cavities. The pain is intense and almost threatens to interrupt the oncoming orgasm, but it is too late.

Your eyes flash to the Doctor's, which seem to dance with cruel glee.

He continues to stroke your clit mercilessly. Nothing of a caress, trying to coax an orgasm from you... This is a bulldozer shoving you mercilessly towards the precipice by force. There is no turning back, no slowing it down, no chance at all to prepare. You scream wordlessly in terror of what will happen to your overfilled, overstuffed, overstimulated body when the mother-of-all-orgasms that you can feel is only heartbeats away takes the last shred of tenuous self-control from you and carries you away in its arms...

You feel every muscle in your body begin to tense as the bulldozer shoves you right off the edge of the cliff and you begin to fall....

Fast as a striking snake, his hand whips away from your neck and reaches down between your legs. He twists... something, and you instantly feel the pressure lighten, aware only that the liquid mess of the piss you have been pumped full of, along with whatever it has dissolved and blasted loose begin to pour out of you... somewhere... before you cease to have much of any awareness of any of the individual parts of your body at all, other than his hand, now gently massaging your clit, continuing the build-up...

For several moments, your vision is whited out entirely and you are thankful for the gag, for you are certain you would have bitten your tongue or possibly cracked your teeth from the uncontrollable clenching of your jaw as waves of unrelenting ecstasy and agony entwined wrack your body.

After what seems like hours, the intensity of the waves subside and awareness starts to return, only for a new shock to take you as your mouth once again fills with piss. In half a heartbeat you realize this is HIS piss. HIS piss pumped into YOUR body and now flowing out and into your mouth, following the same path yours had taken before. You begin to swallow again, relishing the gift of his body that he has given to you.... The thumb on your clit grinds down once more. You feel you are hit by a bolt of lightning.

It's all too much! The remaining cramps of your gut, its emptiness a throbbing counterpoint to the slowly decreasing pressure in your bladder. The cascade of emotion... the terror, panic, tenderness, mortification, triumph.... The continued flood of piss in your mouth, forcing you to swallow lest you drown. The ache of your muscles held motionless for so long, the continued pulse of your swollen tissues trying to expel the foreign invaders to your body. You inventory each of these as if floating on a cloud... have you died?

After a final swallow, you realize your bladder is now empty and the acrid flow is done. Your body starts to come down from it's high only to feel a slight pinch on the right side of your neck.

As the fog closes in on you once again, you hear the Doctor a final time. "Well done, my Pet. Well done, indeed."

You emerge into consciousness some time later. You rise to the top of that warm pool; floating. You open your eyes. Gummy. You're surrounded by warmth and softness. Such a stark difference from before.

As your mind slowly lifts from the fog, you realize that you're in your own bed. You turn to the bedside table and see your phone on its charging stand. Next to it, a crisp white card sits tented on the table. In bold block letters, you read: "I'll be seeing you, Pet. -The Doctor"

Another flash of fear fills you. How did he get in here? Does that mean he can come back whenever he wants?

You start to hyperventilate at the thought. Your heart doing that jackhammer impression in your chest.

And you GUSH.

The thought of him invading your home whenever he wants...

Oh..... PLEASE.