Perhaps there was even a devious secret defiance about my sudden plunge into the most irredeemable deviance. After all, I was damned to this destiny regardless.
For some reason I couldn’t fathom my wife was hell-bent on taking our once thrilling if harmless fetish to its most harrowing imaginable extreme for me. Defying her by not spewing would never save me. The only way to truly taint Deena’s victory would be to somehow find a way to honestly enjoy the worst that her infinite thirst for seeing me subjugated might inflict.
Whether this logic was sound was moot. This was the interpretation I seized on in my delirium when I could no longer resist the excitement raising its titanium-ringed head.
Or maybe I could still claim that what all these brutes were doing to me just constituted Mist
