"Oh, they know they can`t be with me except they fulfill my wishes," sheanswered. "You know I wear the pants and anybody who wants to be with mehas to...wear the opposite and has to accept this. They don't, would you?" What do you mean by opposite?"She looked closer at me with her capturing green eyes."Easy, if I wear pants what do you think I mean with opposite? Skirts,maybe dresses. Definetely not pants like me. Understood?"I gulped."Do you want to tell me you want to make men wear skirts?" No,. He then took great delight in informing Mandi, he was going to piss into the tube and she would be unable to do anything except swallow all his urine.He even made the two tattooed women berate Mandi as being a piss drinking slut bitch. When he began pissing the tube could not take the flow away fast enough and so the tube appeared to fill up with the golden coloured fluid. They watched intently as it slowly filtered through into her stomach. By the time he had finished his piss, Mandi's stomach. One compensation for the perilous nature of the downward journey was the gradual slackening of the terrible cold. By the time she had reached the plain, her knees, hands, arms and body bleeding from several falls on the way down, and her left eye bruised and cut from contact with one wickedly sharp stone which had broken a particularly nasty fall, the air was warm again and she sank to the ground on her bruised and bleeding knees praying her thanks to whomsoever had made it possible for her to. “They’re making me go to some clinic for rehab,” she bitched.“Rehab? Mother, what do you mean?”“I was stopped for a DUI and the judge is ordering me to rehab,” she explained, making it sound like it was the judge’s fault.“Thank God,” I thought to myself and then feigned concern. “I’m sorry mother.” My mother had been stopped at least twice before and the local municipal judge had only given her a slap on the wrist each time.“It’s so unfair,” she continued. “That Judge Jefferson has had it out.