Working for home gave Nicole some unprecedented benefits. While she enjoyed the lack of commute and the freedom to indulge in her hobbies, she realized that one such hobby was being a snoop. 
       
       
       Admittedly she tried not to be a voyeur. What the neighbors did in their homes was for them and them alone. Occasionally, she’d had to close the blinds just to not see Mr. Moore fuck the gimp he keeps in his basement. But the urge was strong, and in her middle-daughter’s bedroom she found herself unable to ignore the little diary left behind while doing her business. 

       ***
       
       Dear Diary,
       
       
       This is the fifth time I’ve woken up with the aftertaste of mom’s pee. 
       When the toilet broke I knew we had to be careful, but I never expected mom coming to my room one night and demanding I drink hers. She was desperate and I was too tired to understand what she meant until it was too late. I struggled under her, but she held my head still and kept my mouth wide for her steamy crotch. It was so gross. I wanted to vomit when it came streaming down my mouth. Some of it got on the bed. When she finished I curled up and cried, or at least tried to. 
       
       
       The next morning mom didn’t acknowledge what she did. She didn’t have any trouble looking at me, like there wasn’t any shame. I almost confronted her about it, but decided to let it die and go to school. It happened again that night, and the night before. Even now, with the toilet fixed, she’s coming into my bedroom when everyone’s asleep and making me drink her up. She asks every time though. I once told her no because I was really tired and she stopped, though she looked a little sad. I didn’t feel right after either, and couldn’t sleep well. 
       
       
       I hate it. I tell myself that. But every time it happens I start to toy with myself when she leaves. I’m no stranger to it, I’ve used the washing machine when no one was looking back before we moved, but this was way better. 
       
       ***
       
       Dear Diary,
       
       
       Mom stopped visiting me at night. At first I was relieved to get a full night’s sleep, but then I couldn’t sleep. It’d been a month since we started this little routine, and now I can’t go to sleep without it. I almost brought this up to mom at breakfast, but she called me into her bedroom instead. She made an effort to wake me up first so no one would see her using me. 
       
       
       Every morning before school she does this. Before breakfast I swallow a mouthful of pee, or piss as mom calls it. I’ve gotten used to the taste, but more in knowing it’s going to suck tasting it than anything else. Can’t stop my body from burning after it, and mom tells me I shouldn’t just touch myself in the open like that. A lady should be private with her pleasures. 
       
       
       Lily caught us first. My little sister woke up early from a bad dream and caught me between mom’s legs. She didn’t scream. I would have if not for the stream in my mouth. She looked at me with her legs inched together like she was holding something. Being a bedwetter, Lily hated bringing up peeing, but she blushed when asking if she could use me after my mom explained what was going on. I don’t know what a urinal is, but mom liked the term. Lily piss tasted sweeter. I don’t know why. 
       
       
       Jazz found out last. She called me a freak instead of mom, as if I chose to drink everyone’s piss, and refused to talk to me for days. She’s always been moody since transitioning, and I’m not sure if it's real or an act she plays up. Now she’s just as eager as the rest of them to use me in the morning. Says it’s great for when her morning wood keeps her from going without making a mess. I hate the nickname she gave me. Penny Pissbucket. Hormones make her mean. 
       
       
       I should tell her that before the bus arrives. Mom’s calling, gotta get them empty before I brush my teeth. 
       
       
       
       ***
       
       Dear Diary,
       
       
       Jazz started using me for more than just pee. She hates having morning wood, says it ruins her mornings, and going to the bathroom is such a mess with it. But sometimes she doesn’t pee much at all. I didn’t realize she started liking having her dick in my mouth until she started thrusting. 
       
       
       She held my head down when it happened, begging me to stay still. At first I didn’t want to, but something about how Jazz said it made it easier. Like, it wasn’t as nice as drinking pee but I kind of liked it. The white stuff was thicker than pee, tasted saltier too, but Jazz looked really relieved when it came out of her cock. She says an orgasm helps relax her. I didn’t know that’s how dicks orgasmed. 
       
       
       She’s been a lot nicer since. Even before transitioning, Jazz kept me at a distance. Now we talk about boys or do each other’s hair. She even did mine one morning while using me. How does she have the focus? 
       
       
       Now every morning wood is relieved by me. Sometimes Jazz speeds it along, sometimes I do it myself. She gives me pointers like no teeth, and tells me not to tell mom. Something about this being sex, but like, come on. Everyone uses me as a urinal in the house, why’s this such a bad step up?
       
       ***
       Dear Diary,
       
       
       I miss juice. Mom keeps packing a thermos full of fresh piss into my lunch and a letter saying to drink up with a smile. I can get water from the fountain but that’s outside of the cafeteria and they don’t let you back in if you leave. 
       
       
       Jazz and Lily come to me during school time, between periods. The line to the girl’s room is always long during that time so I don’t blame them for coming to me. I just wish they’d be a little more private about it. Jazz won’t stop calling me Pissbucket, and what’s worse is that I’m responding to it. Mom said I should ignore it when bullies call me names, that answering to it gives them power, but it’s hard when the bully is my older sister. Hurts when Lily says it when she’s using me, but I can’t tell her no. Not when the bell rings when we finish. 
       
       
       Still can’t get off. It’s hard to focus when horny. I don’t know why that’s the term, it’s just what Jazz explained when I told her. She knows this kind of stuff. 
       
       
       They take me to private places like the janitor’s closet, the locker rooms, or under a stairwell when no one is looking. A few kids snicker when they look at me, but no one in my grade says anything. Then the janitor caught us, and we had to have a talk with Principal Lord.
       
       
       I thought we’d get expelled, but the horse didn’t seem bothered. We told him my situation, though Jazz kept using colorful words, and he sent her off. I wanted to die when he took me back to close, and when he called me Pissbucket I wanted to melt then and there. 
       
       
       Since then, my teacher tells other students to use me instead of going to the bathroom, if they have to go number one anyway. Some of my classmates, like Bobby Fincher, keep calling me Pissbucket out of class, but most go on without questioning it. It’s weird, but I kind of get it? Like, if everyone else was doing it I wouldn’t question it openly either. 
       
       
       At least my teacher gives me a lot of breath mints. Doesn’t keep my clothes clean. 
       
       
       ***
       
       Dear Diary, 
       
       
       Mom didn’t like that other kids were making a mess of my clothes. She took me shopping for new ones, ones made of weird stuff like latex, rubber, plastic, and vinyl. They looked normal, or at least were shaped like it. But they feel weird, almost too clingy on my fur. Doesn’t stain with piss though, which is what mom wanted. She didn’t have to throw out all of my clothes. 
       
       
       The weirdest thing she got me was this collar. It’s got a unisex bathroom symbol as Jazz told me. It’s made of rubber and mom holds the key for it. I’ve seen a few students around school with collars. I thought it was a weird fashion choice, like what Lily calls Jazz’s clothes, but apparently some students are slave students. They’re weird. I hope people don’t mistake me for one. Being a pissbucket is bad enough. It’d be easier if I could finger myself but I can’t do that until I get home. 
       
       
       Mom’s been talking about moving me to the bathroom. I hope she doesn’t. Yeah, our bathroom is huge at the cost of being the only one, but I prefer my bedroom.
       
       ***
       Dear Diary,
       
       
       Apparently that thing I’ve been doing with Jazz’s morning wood is called a blowjob. I heard it from Parker. Parker is this cute mule with a big cock he says is small. I guess it is by other horses, but I like it. He likes me, given how he flirts with me. Says my breath smells nice even after using me. 
       
       
       Because he’s self-conscious he uses me in the bathroom, by the school, or somewhere else where people won’t see us. He gets hard as soon as I’m on my knees. He’s also the only one, besides Jazz I guess, who I can tolerate calling me Pissbucket. He actually gets mad when other people do it to make fun of me.
       
       
       “You’re my little pissbucket,” he says. Gosh, it’s so dreamy. Sometimes I just give him a blowjob before he pees, and he’s got a lot more after I do that. I love how he looks at me when his balls hit my chin. Need to work on my throat though. One time it got so sore I couldn’t speak for the rest of the day!
       
       
       ***
       
       Dear Diary,
       
       
       Lily wanted to celebrate her birthday with a slumber party. I didn’t want to get that involved outside of the basics, but Lily kept calling for me whenever someone needed to pee. Eventually mom asked if I could just stay with the party so they wouldn’t keep calling. I didn’t really want to but she said it would make Lily happy. 
       
       
       It did, though I felt less like a urinal and more like a seat. Her friends liked sitting on me, some especially liked sitting on my snout as if they were going to pee. I can still smell their cunts. One girl, a raccoon named Abby, asked if I could lick her up there. I thought that was weird, but Lily seemed interested to know why so I did, needing guidance before Abby liked what I was doing. She reminded me of Jazz’s morning wood blowjobs with how she held my hair when doing it, especially when she came.
       
       
       Once she came, every girl wanted to try. They made a line and I barely got a chance to breathe between each. Some demanded it after they peed. Lily was last, and she got super tired after hers. The next day she told me she’d gotten the best sleep ever and wants me to do that every night before she sleeps. 
       
       
       At school my teacher says that I performed cunnilingus. She found me doing it in class when one girl needed a urinal. So long as I don’t do it in class, cause it’ll be distracting, I can practice it in school. Guess I go to bed licking bush and wake up giving head now. And I’m getting better!
       
       
       ***
       
       Dear Diary,
       
       
       Tonight was sooo embarrassing. Jazz, swearing she wasn’t copying Lily, had a sleepover with some of her upperclassman friends. They were up late, watching movies and talking about boys. One of them disrespected Parker by saying he’s weird. He’s not weird, he’s cute. Not that I could say it, Jazz asked me to be quiet and only open my mouth when they needed it that night. She offered her desserts for the month for it. 
       I should have asked for two. 
       
       
       She introduced me as Pissbucket to her friends. Worse, she made me wear a leash with my collar so that if anyone needed me they could just tug. One girl, Heather I think her name was, really liked calling me Pissbucket when using me. I think Jazz has a crush on her because she didn’t step in much. She did apologize for it later, and upped my promise to one and a half months of dessert. 
       
       
       The night would have been a drag if Parker hadn’t shown up. We exchanged numbers and I told him about the sleepover. Somewhere along the way Jazz and her friends started groping and playing with each other, leaving me to head to the porch in the back. Parker found his way here, and we talked. It was nice, cute. He almost left without taking his dick out. I did instead, figuring I’d want the taste in my mouth to be someone I liked before going to bed. 
       
       
       ***
       
       Dear Diary,
       
       
       After a long talk, Mom moved me into the bathroom. She installed a small bed with latex sheets so nothing got stained. My old room was turned into a study room for Lily and Jazz. I can use it too, but only when the others aren’t. Mom says I’m a distraction. It’s not my fault they hold it in until they see me. 
       
       
       There’s not enough room to fit a wardrobe so I’m naked unless we need to leave the house, save for the collar anyway. Mom replaced the furniture with latex and rubber in the living room and padded the floor for spills. Now she can use me when watching TV. Movie nights have me on my knees ready to drink whoever asks of me. I struggle to make friends as the class urinal, but there are some who like talking to me when they aren’t using me. Heidi is nice, if a little scary with how she treats her donkey sissy Tinkerbell. There’s a girl with a pierced cunt named Madison who always apologizes if she uses me. There’s three other girls at school who hang out together who never apologize for me, but make me thank them. They’re kind of mean. I kind of like them. 
       
       
       I’m still seeing Parker. I’ve asked him to hold my head more when using me. I don’t know, something about him being aggressive when using me then hugging me afterwards is sweet. Jazz does it sometimes. Lily does it all the time, minus the aggression. She really likes it when I drink her up. I think she holds it in all day. That can’t be good for her.
       
        
       I’ve settled into a new routine at home. I don’t leave the bathroom much. Whenever I hear the knob jingle I get into position; kneeling with my head back and mouth open. Mom doesn’t acknowledge me much when using me. Why would she? No one talks to their toilet, that’d be weird. 
       
       ***
       
       Nicole drank water while she read. She’d been so engrossed in her daughter’s little details that she’d spent most of the workday reading it. Through breaks from work, of course. By the time she finished, all she could think about was her full bladder. And Parker, a boy she most certainly hadn’t met yet. 
       
       
       Luckily her kids had just gotten home off the bus.
       
       
       “Penny, dear! Mommy needs you in the bathroom!”