Diagnosis

"Oh my god, you're a total piss whore!" said Beverly.

"I'm a what?" asked Kendall, the taste and smell of urine permiating her senses.

"You pissed yourrself in public, you volunteered to have total strangers piss all over your face, and you just pissed your diaper. You obviously love piss, you sick pervert."

"Volunteered?" asked a confused Kendall. She was horny, confused, and now ashamed. "I'm a piss whore?" she mumbled, more to herself than to Beverly. "But I...it's so...I don't...."

"Whatever, the proof is in the pudding," said Beverly, "or should I say the proof is in the pissing?"

Kendall's head was swimming. She had to admit how much she loved pissing herself and having guys piss on her. How could something so degrading bring her so much sexual pleasure?

"OK," said Beverly. "Shall we get you cleaned up?"

"Cleaned up?" asked Kendall, snapping back to her current place.

"Yes, you reek of piss, and you need a new change of clothes or a new diaper. Come with me, and stay downwind."

Kendall followed Beverly