We started talking throughout the rest of our break and I discovered that I like her, she reminded me a little of Sam. She offered to help me with Mat... after school and I agreed.I spend more and more time with Cynthia but made sure never to let it get too far. The weeks passed and we became friends, Tim thought that it might be alright and invited her over too so he could get to meet her, once he got past the way she dressed, he seemed to like her too. I learned a lot from her but we never went. Little by little, I began to notice her beauty. When she smiled. When she laughed. When she licked her pouty lips. Sure, enough, I developed a thing for her. Did I like her? Yes. Did I want her? Maybe. Was I the only one that internally asked those questions? Hell, no.A few weeks later was “Messiah”, our next performance at one of the other high schools in our district. It was easily the biggest audience we had performed under. After that performance on the bus, I saw something that would. He bent down and lifted her in his arms. He carried her down the hall and then down stairs to their master bedroom. He laid her on the super sized bed and smiled down on her. She was a lil disappointed when he got up off the couch; she was just begining to really enjoy herself. But her disappointment soon changed to understanding as he lifted her In his arms and began to carry her down the hall. Just in the time it had taken him to carry her down the steps she went from damp to soaked.. “Are you surprised?” I asked, “She disgusts me, she plays with herself incessantly, forces things inside her and now she is so damaged that she cannot control herself!”“Kurt!” she gasped and the shocked expression said everything.“She wets herself incessantly, she is an imbecile,” I said.“You would not stop the car!” she protested.“Have you wet yourself,” Weissman asked, “Have you pissed?”.She nodded.“Are you wet now?” he asked, “Have you urinated in my office?” .She nodded again.“Then I agree.