There’s always the hangover after the the excess… ‘fact of life! Oh, and also the guilt trip… worse than any headache. This mad desire to do something to hurt yourself even when you’re suffering already. But her suffering is taking a strange form!

Chantelle tells herself it’s ok. She’s only “piss proud.” So she goes through to the bathroom, takes very careful aim and, with a lot of forcing and bending of knees, finally lets go a stream of piss that’s so long in duration she’s practically back into sleep mode by the time she’s finished, Somehow, despite the far back throb in her head, the upfront throb of her rebellious clitty is winning the battle for control. Not wanting-to but unable to resist, she pulls the bed cover up and over her head and her hand just reaches down to touch the sticky tip, and a finger starts to swirl around in her pee hole while her confused mind goes into overdrive again.

Cocks. Big, black cocks. Some so long they’d make anybody’s eyes water. Bendy bananas; spunk pistols discharging gallons of white cum, they all float across her mind’s screen as the unruly thing so nearly in her hand now just keeps on throbbing and pulsing. All those hypno videos playing out inside. Then she mentally switches channels and it’s all those sissy pussies taking every kind of dildo or object. Arses being whipped red. Cheeks being held apart and holes spat-in or pissed-into. Then balls-deep cocks humping and slapping balls against willing bottoms. Nipples cruelly clamped with crocodile clips. Hands tied to bed ends. Legs anchored to spreader bars… every shape and size of butt plug slipping into tight pussy holes. Turning right over and tugging at the pillows to cover her ears and eyes, she mechanically begins to hump the mattress, alternating between letting her clitty slide along its rough surface and feeling her own pussy opening and then clenching around an imaginary cock, time just disappears for her along with any residual ache in her head. She can feel the orgasm building from somewhere deep inside her and, right before he point of no return, she suddenly stops, heaves off the covers and gets straight out of bed and walks through to the kitchen, still in her satins with her clit bobbing in space. Filling the kettle and clicking it on, she finds her cigarettes and lights up before she even notices that she’s on full view from the shared back garden and pulls on a dressing gown and somehow feels more like Chantelle again.

That’s it she decides as the kettle boils and she makes a coffee and enjoys the rush of nicotine. She’s going to settle for nothing less than a sissygasm or maybe more today. Anyway, now that she’s up, she’ll shower and get into her role for real and go online in search of help. Just a little food because she likes to try and watch her figure. Then she goes and gets her lptop and brings it into the kitchen and opens up her laptop and makes herself comfortable with more coffee and a second cigarette.