Those who follow my musings know that I have a fetish for all things urethral. Piss games like target practice, forced consumption, toilet slavery, golden enema, bladder control, and on to more precise practices like sounding, figging, and urethral stretching.
Catheter play is a twisted merry game, and it can be done as a standalone practice or as part of a longer scene. If you’ve been sounded you’ll know that the feeling of a slender object snaking up your urethra is incredible, intensely pleasurable, and stimulating for the prostate. Once it’s secured in you, imagine how much it would heighten pleasure for other play.
It’s quite an ordeal of medical paraphernalia, laying the sterile Sheet of Dignity over your freshly swabbed and cleansed junk, lubricating the equipment, feeding it through into the bladder and inflating the bubble to keep it in, and securing the leg bag. The bag fills – you don’t get to decide when you are going to urinate because this little tube does it all for you.
From there, I might carry on flaying you, going deeper into medical play. Needles, staples, sutures… I can go into more detail when we meet, I don’t want to frighten the sissies away from reading the rest of this.
I put you in extended bondage. You are immobile, unable to touch yourself. Perhaps you are kept in a cage overnight as I sleep soundly in the king bed upstairs.
Or maybe we go out in public, and you squirm with hot embarrassment in lacy knickers and catheter tubing under your everyday clothes. Imagine dinner across form me as I gently torment you, urging you to drink more water.
And then, a test of your devotion in an act of submissive debasement. The bag is full, but how could we waste such a precious collection? It’s got to go back in, one hole or another. I might let you flip a coin to seal your fate.
Want to try it? Break the golden seal. Come get cath’d.