Could you get the pot for me?” Abigail smiled. “There is no need to blush,” she reassured him. “Nuns have to piss too, like other men and wome....”She reached under the bed, and found the clay bowl for him to piss in. She put it on the bed and rolled him carefully onto his side before pulling up his shift for him. She could not help casting a quick glance at the large mass of his genitals, the meaty prick surrounded by a thick mass of dark hair. Before he could say anything, she quickly turned. But still, he doubted that this was the case. If he was going to die now, his parents being responsible, David came to the conclusion that it would be there. This hole. This place, and with no aid from poison.But, he reminded himself as he moved slowly, and painfully to a sitting position, propping himself against a corner further away from his most recent mess--he wouldn't die. Not yet, anyway.David couldn't remember the exact moment when he'd realized that his parents hated him. Hated him.. More

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