Make a choice?. I don’t know what I was thinking. It was early and I was distracted by my growling stomach and full bladder.?I would prefer a warm...shower Sir?You smile at me, leaning down to give me a light kiss. ?I was hoping you would say that.? You open your robe and start to piss all over me. Rinsing the cum from my back but also coating my hair and face is warm urine. I can’t help myself, I start to cry. I can’t go to work like this? What will everyone say? They already think I’m a. I began to list these observers: Russell the Writer Russell the Sexual Being Russell the Sufferer Russell, the Extension of Lexi Russell, the Good Man, the one who tried hard. Russell, confused, tormented, lost, abandoned and drowning, not worth saving, contemptible, incapable, weak and loathsome in my own eyes. Even my own capacity for self-pity made me sick with revulsion. Even my grief was disgusting. In such a state I became obsessed with this submissive idea. Stirred together in a. More

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