bustos-eros:

“They just. Won’t. Stop!” she cried to an imagined listener.

She’d been leaning over the bathtub almost constantly for hours. She hardly needed to touch them and they’d spray like this, but then seemed to replenish their supply even faster. She was starving constantly. The only time she left the bathroom was to go grab something else to gorge herself on from the kitchen. She hated how she no longer had any freedom. At first, they’d do this once a week, at most. That rate was increasing to every few days now. She hated the thought of  this consuming her life, but most of all, and as strange as it sounded, she hated how arousing it was. Something about it gave her an intense awareness of her sexuality that made her wet at the very thought. Just stimulating her nipples for a little while could trigger an orgasm. Of course she could see a doctor and find a solution. The problem was that she was more and more uncertain whether or not she wanted to.