Author's Note:
Hello everyone, I'm just writing this note to apologize for the long delay between my last post and this one. Unfortunately, I'll be the first to admit that this post is not the longest, nor is it the most interesting. Rather, it's another part to set up later story developments. I'm hoping to get this series to a point where more scat play is included in the near future.
I'm currently working on the next release in the Sanborn Retreat series, so hopefully that will help to bridge the gap in the lack of erotic content. Everyone seems to be enjoying that series which I am happy about because I really enjoy writing it. Hopefully posts will begin coming out more regularly again.
~`~`~`~`~`~
I wanted to feel like everything was OK, but it wasn't no matter what I did. Kat helped me clean up my apartment two days ago. I thought that would help me feel better, but it didn't. She helped me with laundry yesterday, but that too did nothing. Since I had told her about everything that had happened, she had been making more of an effort to give me a hand in getting my life back on track. Unfortunately, she was out of town for the next couple of days on business, and I felt like I was back at square one. Sure, my apartment was cleaner, but nothing in my life had changed.
Dr. Morse was still an issue, ever-present in the back of my mind as I tried my best to pretend that she didn't exist. Her letter was another point of contention; I was still holding on to it despite Kat urging me to throw it out. I couldn't bring myself to do it, however. I was hoping that I would read it and all my problems with the woman would be sorted out. Unfortunately, the likeliness of this was slim, and that was if I could even manage to open it.
I could see it from my bed -- the white envelope sitting on top of my desk and silently mocking me for being such an idiot. Rolling onto my side, I grabbed the top of my comforter and pulled it up to cover my shoulders. Getting back into bed was a mistake as I now couldn't be bothered to get out. I managed to get dressed and eat breakfast, but it was easier to spend my day here, wrapped up in a blanket and away from everyone else. In my bed, I didn't have responsibilities. I didn't have to pretend like everything was normal; it was a nice change of pace. Or it was until I looked at my phone on the nightstand.
Since Thursday, it had been a constant stream of missed phone calls and texts. I didn't know if my phone had a limit in terms of voicemails, but those had stopped since Saturday, so I assumed that it did, and that limit was reached. Of course, I hadn't listened to any, but I also didn't delete them. They were all from Dr. Morse, as were the texts and all the missed calls. Kat wanted me to block her number, but yet again, I was too much of a bitch to make a lasting decision.
Come on, Mallory, do something, anything. Have some fun for once.
I wish I could listen to the voice in my head. The positive one, anyway. Unfortunately for me, it was always the negative voice that was louder, the one urging me to give up. This time, I wasn't going to listen to it. This time, I was going to indulge and enjoy myself without feeling bad afterward. I needed to relax, to let off the pressure that had been building for the last week. It's what Kat had been urging me to do. Then again, I'm not sure she fully understood what that meant.
Sure, I told her that I liked bathroom play, but I hadn't been specific. She didn't know that I liked to hold my shit, to feel it smeared between my fingers. Or that I had tasted my pee before, or that Dr. Morse peed in front of me, for that matter. For all she knew, I watched a few questionable videos online and masturbated to them. If Kat knew the truth, I'm sure she would think I'm a freak just like everyone else.
Stop fucking thinking like this. You have to do better.
Moving my blanket aside, I got out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom. My mind was awash with conflicting emotions, and I was at a loss as to which ones I should listen to. I knew what Kat would've wanted me to do. She was the one voice of reason in my life, and yet I continually ignored her. Not today. Today I would finally do what she had been telling me to do since Thursday, no matter how hard it was. At least, that's what I tried to tell myself. It didn't take much digging to realize this was another one of my surface-level, brief spites of self-confidence before a deeper spiral.
Regardless, I tried to empty my mind and relax as I took off my clothes and settled into my empty bathtub. My bladder was full, but I was still reluctant to release it. Already somewhat against it, the lack of a sexual environment made it difficult to be excited. It was always uncontrollable urges that led me to do these heinous acts in the past. Without the arousal, it was near impossible to do them on command. I needed to liven up the situation but struggled to think of anything that excited me. If only I still had the memory stick Dr. Morse had given me; maybe then I could watch something to get me in the mood.
No, Mallory. That was a trick, remember? She used that to get in your head, to get you addicted to this lifestyle so that it would be easier to control you.
I tried to shake the thought, distracting myself by getting in a better position. Sliding to my back, I lowered my knees so that they were beside my head, my crotch facing upward. In this orientation, my pee would land on my face before going down the drain. The thought made my pussy tingle, but I still wasn't convinced. Using my index, I rubbed at my clit, the resulting sensation helping slightly to get me more in the mood.
With little other choice, I succumbed to my fate and released my bladder muscles. The first spurt of pee went over my head and hit the back wall of the shower. After re-aiming slightly, the second burst hit my forehead, the hot pee spraying outwards and coating the tub around me. My hair soaked in the rapidly growing pool as more urine ran from my urethra. I could smell the acridness of my pee, sharp and musty as it usually was after waking up. I balanced on one hand while the other reached up to play in the stream, a golden mist forming as the pee struck my fingers.
Surprisingly, I found myself becoming slightly more aroused as I went on. My brain went back to my first meeting with Dr. Morse when I watched her pee. I didn't want to think about it, but I couldn't help myself. I remembered how I felt at the time; nervous at first but unable to look away. Then I thought about the dream I had, the one where I imagined our second session. The way Dr. Morse touched me urged me on until I released my bladder; I could feel it even now. The more I let my mind drift back to my time with her, the more turned on I became. Squirming in the tub, I slowly grew desperate for an orgasm.
That was, however, until a sporadic burst sent a big shot of pee straight into my mouth. The flavor caused me to choke, my throat closing as urine coated my mouth. Then, without warning, a surge of vomit erupted from my stomach and coated my face, sending me tumbling over. Resting on my side in the tub, I coughed up more bile, my stomach turning as my piss-soaked hair clung to my cheeks. Chunks of undigested food leaked from my mouth and nose, running down my bare chest. With tears filling my eyes, I tried to get to my knees, only to slip on my vomit and fall back into the soup of my bodily wastes.
Resigned to my fate, I curled into a ball and wept, my throat burning from my stomach acid and tears. I was pathetic. Just like every other time, my journey of self-discovery led me to a dark finish, although this time, I didn't even get to cum. Plus, there was the fact that I thought about Dr. Morse, that I couldn't
stop
thinking about Dr. Morse. I wanted desperately to be rid of her, to return to my miserable life before when I still lived with David. Sure, he was emotionally abusive, but at least I had grown callous to it. All of this -- everything with Dr. Morse -- this was a fresh wound, one I was woefully unprepared to deal with.
That made me angry.
I didn't want to feel helpless, but I was. No matter what Kat tried to convince me of, all the evidence pointed to me being an incompetent piece of shit stuck in a cycle of self-pity and abuse. Pushing the shampoo bottles off the edge of the tub with an angry shove, I watched them bounce around the floor. I absentmindedly turned on the tap, rinsing down what I could of my vomit before putting in the drain plug. The anger soon left me, and I sat in silent contemplation, figuring out what I should do next.
Unfortunately, I could only think about Dr. Morse and the letter she left me. I clearly still wasn't over her, despite all my best efforts. If I knew what was in that letter, maybe I could let her go and move forward. That was a big maybe, though. To be honest, I was hard-pressed to think of
anything
that could be in the letter that would make me forget about Dr. Morse. It was clear that I was still attracted to her; my thoughts while masturbating were evidence enough of this. I wished Kat didn't need to go into the office today; she would've helped me work through all of this.
One thing I knew for sure was that I couldn't read the letter alone. Without Kat, I had little other choice, but there was someone I could think of. For now, I did my best to clean off the puke that still clung to my chest, the bath turning murky as I did so. Unlike my usual routine, I splashed some water on my face but kept my head well above the water. Unfortunately, that meant whatever soaked into my hair would likely stay for now. With any luck, my floral soap would cover up the strong smell of bile and pee that the water couldn't remove, and no one but me would know what happened.
Draining the tub, I was a little annoyed that my recently cleaned towel would be ruined once again. Unfortunately, there was only one, and I had little choice other than to use it to dry off the tainted water; maybe I should get a second. However, that was a problem for another time as I did my best to use as little of the towel as possible before hanging it on the rack. I put my clothes back on, pulled my hair into a ponytail to finish drying, and left the bathroom.
My mind was still awash with decisions about what I should do next. I knew what I
