A few nights of the bar scene would recharge his batteries, although they took a totally different charge than Jenny's.He was remembering some of the ...lassic evenings he'd had in San Francisco over the years when the phone rang. "You'd better get it, Blake," Jenny said, coming out of whatever private reverie she had.The first sound of the voice in the receiver made Blake's heart sink: it was Fred Knox, Jenny's agent, and that almost always meant trouble, any more. "How's it going, Blake?" Knox. She tried to move. The exposed half of her face creased in pain. Little red blobs oozed from the wire cutting into her neck and wrists as she wriggled. I watched her throat swallowing, gulping, trying to breathe, choking. My piss gurgled up back into the funnel. She twisted her head slightly to the left and right but not enough to cause any spillage. Eventually, sadly, my bladder was empty. It took another minute before the steel urinal had drained empty down her throat.I carefully lifted the. More

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