Pipp's Pee Stream

Zipp lay on the recliner in Comfy Couch's office. Even though she was not a therapist, she was pretty sure this wasn't what therapy should look like. For starters, as soon as she entered, Comfy Couch gave her a glass of whisky, telling her that she'd need it. Judging by his voice, he also had a few glasses himself.

“So, where do I start?” Zipp shrugged and took a large sip of whisky, washing off the smell of her vomit, Pipp’s pee and Snowy’s cum. “My sister almost raped a kid when I was watching and filming her. I get the feeling that I’m too sane for all this. I want to sink in flamboyant eroticism and substance abuse, but I can’t. Also, I’m fucking my therapist and getting drunk with him.”

“There’s something I have to tell you,” Comfy Couch said. “Before you were born, I had a brief affair with your mother. The old king needed the assistance of five doctors to even get hard back then and he died before you and Pipp were born. Considering the circumstances, it’s very likely that I am your real father.”

“Cool.” Zipp took another sip. “Wanna fuck?”

“I just said–”

“Who cares?” Zipp shrugged. “We already fucked, I’m drunk, horny, and depressed. What does it change?”

“For starters, now we know that I am–”

“Oh, shut up, daddy.” Zipp rolled her eyes. “I want to fuck. I know you want to fuck me. I’m on birth control, we use condoms... Do we fuck or do I have to, dunno, get more drunk, forget how to fly and accidentally fall off the mountain on my way back home?”

Comfy Couch shrugged and grabbed a pack of condoms from the drawer of his desk. “Sure, why not…”