I understood then that the hot discomfort I was feeling was his stream as it hit my swollen, damaged guts. I could do nothing but stare unthinkingly ...t the floor while I felt him fill me with his piss; it was too horrible to process. “I got a big load for you, baby slut; I know you like it hot,” he laughed as he emptied his bladder into me, “and since you’ve been such a bad girl, I’m half tempted to finish off this second six pack and give you another load in a few! Ha, HA!,” he shook with. * * * * * Late one Wednesday afternoon during the last week of July, 1952, I was sitting at my desk in my room at Oxford. I was trying to concentrate on an essay that I was writing that was required by Friday, and was far from finished, when my roommate Tony came rushing in. Tony was a rather excitable sort of chap, and something obviously was up. ‘James, old pal,’ he said, ‘what are you doing this weekend?’ It was the August Bank Holiday weekend, which of course meant that there were no. More

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