I don't think she really needed my help, butJenny didn't want an icky boy at her party and Mom didn't want me tofeel completely left out. Our basement...was completely decorated withballoons, ribbons, streamers and etc. Mom went all out to make thisparty special as she did for everything involving Jenny.The day of the party had arrived. Mom took great care in getting Jennyready the celebration with a new party dress and ponytails in her hair.Jenny was as cute as ever and she knew it, the dress. Even as an adult I still had fantasies about the woods, fantasies that hadbegun before my puberty. The fantasies usually involved bondage, exposure,torture, being discovered tied helpless--those sorts of fun things. As a childI had friends who participated with me in playing out some of these scenarios--I'mwriting about that elsewhere. But now, as an adult, companionship in this forbiddenworld was hard to find and I almost never tried to bring anyone else in. Iloved the friends I had, most of. Months passed. Years passed. I had lost count of the years that had passed, but I recollect quite a number of changing seasons from summer to winter to summer to winter. I sensed that I had aged quite a bit. Not once, even for a moment, had I been unshackled and removed from their toilet-slave mechanism since the day they installed me. Over half of my life had been spent inside a single room--a bathroom, subsisting on nothing except female human waste and other body excreta (except for that one. Master Karl got behind the driver’s seat and the dog, struggling in pain and unbearable tension, crawled into the passenger side.“You want to piss, bitch? Speak.”“Yes, Master, please, yes, fuck, it hurts.”“You want to piss now, bitch, in the car.”“No, please, yes, fuck, help me, Master.”“You’re my fucking dog, is that right?”“Yes, Master.”“My pig, too, right, if I want you to oink? My fucking pigshit,.