I’ve always known that my kinks are a bit more extreme than most peoples especially as I’m submissive to other men, a bit of a masochist and fantasise about rape but I had never thought that I found get turned on by being treated like I’m worthless but here I am degraded yet my cock is quivering and begging for release. I stumble as I get to my feet, feeling unsteady but I quickly dart from the bedroom into the bathroom. I look in the mirror at the stained mess that is my face, my face is covered with cum, tears and spit, my eyes are red and puffy from crying and my hair is shiny with sweat.The humiliating picture in the mirror is too much and I quickly unzip my trousers, take my cock out and while staring at my stained in the mirror I start to quickly stroke my cock. It doesn’t take long for me to be on the brink of orgasm and as I feel the orgasm rise I turn and shoot a massive load of cum into the toilet. I turn back to the mirror and turn on the tap and quickly was the mess from. It’s the fakery of it I can’t stand.” She stepped closer to the image. “Look at her. You can see it in her smile. She’s desperately trying to enjoy herself.” I assumed she was talking about her mother.I nodded. It was odd. The camera shutter had clicked at just the right instant, preserving one fleeting happy moment. A rare exception, not the rule.“There weren’t any fights that trip. Not that I can remember, anyway.”She shook her head. “There weren’t. She was getting what she wanted, a jet-set life. And he was making millions. But you remember the months after that.”I did. Vi and I had conspired to run away from home, it had been so bad. Only our parent’s announcement of their divorce had stopped our plan.“So when I look at it,” she continued. “I can’t just see that moment: it’s everything before. And everything that came after.”“Alright.” I set my empty bowl on the kitchen island and unhooked the photo, placing it carefully on the floor facing the wall. “Why don’t we make that part.
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