Drink: a Circle of Denial Story

"You look like you've dried off enough, girl. Stand, and let's go."

"Thank you, Mistress." Ellen said, with urgency lurking in the shadows of her words. It was a half-hour drive back to the house, and although the sports car was smooth the roads of Minerva could be rough, and each bump would pose a new challenge for her.

Ellen walked carefully back to the car, keeping her legs as close together as possible. Her trousers had dried but her panties were still a little damp between her legs, and every so many paces she could not help adding a little trickle to the water they held, no matter how hard she tried to keep it from getting out.

She stood as patiently as she could by the car, hips wiggling from side to side in a vain attempt to relieve the urge in her belly. Anira seemed to take her time to unclip her leash and open the door, in which she stared longingly at the soft leather seat where she could sit with her legs crossed to help ease the strain on her tired muscles. Another surge took her while she waited and she bobbed up and down to resist it, relaxing once it had passed, only to be caught unawares by a second which sent a jet of liquid squirting into her panties. She felt the warm liquid collect there, felt it scroll down between her legs and run onto her inner thighs. Thankfully the flow stopped as quickly as it had begun, but it was enough to run a little river down her left leg. She adjusted her weight, straightened her leg subtly so that the drops might miss her loose slacks and run straight into her damp socks without Anira noticing.

"What are you doing, girl?"

"Nothing, Mistress." She replied almost instantly.

"Then stand properly."

"Please, Mistress, can't I just get in the car?"

"You will wait, girl, until I am ready. Stand still."

Ellen obeyed, stood as still as she could manage, tried not to sink to her knees when another surge came, but she resisted. Only a few tiny drops leaked into her panties, which thankfully contained them without spilling down her legs. Finally Lady Anira packed the leash away into her bag and opened the door. "Sit down, girl."

"Thank you, Mistress." Ellen replied, swiftly twisting into the car and depositing herself into the seat before another surge took her. The motor started, its subtle vibrations coming through the seat and making her belly feel heavy and strange, and at last they cruised out of the car park and onto the highway.

Every bump on Minerva's rough roads was agony. Ellen bit her lip and clenched her muscles and pressed her legs together, her clammy palms gripping at her cotton slacks like clamps. Her seatbelt pressed at her belly but Anira forbade her from loosening it. The warm wind whipped at her bushy hair and the graylight lanced at her tired eyes, and her muscles screamed at being clenched for so long. She felt her hands opening and closing of their own accord, felt her hips wiggling from side to side, felt her toes bouncing on the black carpet, but it was all happening automatically -- she was no longer in control, so frantic was she driven by the urgency of her desperation. She had been holding on for what felt like a lifetime, and she just could not bear it any more. Not for much longer, anyway.

Finally Anira's house rolled into view and they bounced up the driveway. Ellen tensed every muscle in her body as the car rocked over the bumps until they drew to a halt. Anira left the car first and Ellen remained seated, until finally her door was opened and she was allowed to stand. Anira fumbled with her keys, delayed to watch a passing flock of birds, dropped her keys, fumbled with them again, before opening the door.

"Here we are, girl. Home again." She sighed distantly as she held the door for Ellen. She gingerly tip-toed in, her hands shifting around the hem of her blouse, gripping and pulling it in sheer desperation. She made a bee-line for the door that led to the sanctuary of the bathroom, but Anira caught her by the loop on her collar. "Not yet, girl. Here." She thrust the last bottle of water into her unwilling hands. "Go and stand outside, and drink this."

"Mistress, please, I really don't think I can..."

"I wasn't asking, girl. Outside. Now."

"Yes, Mistress." Ellen intoned, and tip-toed carefully to the back door that led out onto the veranda. It was a very private garden, with tall hedges and fences that kept prying eyes from regarding them. A swing-chair hung in the shade of the vines, its seat covered with dead leaves; a little iron table stood next to it, its white paint flaking in the heat.

Ellen padded carefully to it, wincing as another surge forced a little jet out of her body and into her panties. She was rapidly losing control, and her muscles were tiring -- she wasn't sure how much more she could take. She just had to go, the urge was so insistent that she just couldn't take much more.

Anira stepped onto the veranda a moment later. "Go and stand in front of the swing-chair, my pet." She said. Ellen obeyed, and watched as Anira brushed the dead leaves from the seat. "And drink that water."

Again Ellen reluctantly obeyed, unscrewing the top with clammy hands and putting it to her lips. The water had warmed and tasted flat as it trickled down her throat and into her bulging stomach. Anira returned to the house, emerged a moment later with a clock, which she put onto the table facing Ellen. "Twenty minutes. If you can last twenty minutes, you can join me on the chair." She said. "I want to see that bottle empty when I get back." She returned again to the house.

Two minutes passed, during which Ellen's heart began to thunder in her head and the water in the bottle slowly trickled down her throat. More big surges took her, and she managed to keep most of them at bay, save a few little droplets that collected in her panties and soaked up around her crotch. Anira returned, having changed into a beautiful lacy chemise that seemed to reveal more of her slinky body than if she was naked. She carried something in her hands, which she placed carefully on the table.

It was Ellen's own personal vibrating egg -- the one that was used only on her. She hadn't seen it in -- what was it, weeks? Months? A long time. Far too long, her body said. Just looking at it was enough to make her gulp. Anira loved to use it on her, and she loved it when Anira used it on her. That egg, along with Anira's tongue and fingers, could do things to her that she had not thought possible.

"Seventeen more minutes, girl. Is that water gone? Come on, all of it, now."

Ellen poured the last few droplets into her mouth and tried to screw on the lid. Her fingers shook so much that it fell from her hands and clattered to the floor.

"Leave it, girl, just let it go. Stand there. Sixteen minutes."

Anira sank slowly into the seat, set it rocking, and drew her knees up to her chest. Her hands began to wander her body as her eyes roamed Ellen's; Ellen felt them probing her, gazing at her face, staring through her blouse, examining the stains and the coin-sized damp patch at her crotch. She both loved and hated they way Anira could undress her with her eyes, and she loved and hated to be made an object of Anira's gratification when she played with herself. She could not help but watch as Anira lifted her chemise and placed her fingers at her sex, began to move them rhythmically.

"Fourteen minutes."

"Mistress." Ellen said, bobbing on her knees to withstand a big surge. "Mistress, please, I really can't hold on much longer."

"Thirteen minutes."

"Please, Mistress?"

"Please what?"

"Please may I go?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"Do you want to join me on this couch, girl?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Then you will hold on. Twelve minutes."

Seconds ticked slowly past like hours. Time and again Ellen sunk almost to her knees to withstand the surges. She leaked a little with almost every one, and each time the surges became greater and the leaks a little bigger. She could feel the wet patch spreading once again in her panties.

"Is that a trail down your leg, girl?"

"No Mistress." Ellen whimpered immediately, without even taking her eyes off of Anira's rhythmically circling hand between her legs.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Good girl. Nine minutes."

"I can't last nine minutes, Mistress!"

"You've lasted all day, you'll last nine more minutes."

"I can't! I have to go now! Please, I really can't bear it! I really can't take any more, I just have to go now!"

"Eight minutes."

Ellen gave an extended whimper as another long surge sent a jet of fluid into her panties. She lifted her knees in turn, walked on the spot, her heels tapping her buttocks with every step. Her heart pounded in her head but was deafened by the demands of her bladder.

"Mistress, it really, really has to be now!" She mewed.

"No it doesn't."

"Yes, it does!"

"Seven minutes."

"I can't do seven minutes!"

"Seven minutes, girl." Anira said, her voice becoming breathier.

Ellen's hands swung behind her back, clamped together, tangled with the loose tail of her blouse and pulled the material tight. Tears welled in her eyes and began to run down her cheeks along with a trickle from her panties. There really was no way she could manage much more of this.

"Are you leaking, girl? Don't lie to me."

"Yes, Mistress." She whispered, nodding when she realised her quiet and squeaky her tight voice had become. It took all of her effort and concentration just to stop the leak, let alone string words together.

"Five minutes."

Another big surge came and she tried all she could to keep her bladder's contents at bay. Her face creased and tears began to cascade down her cheeks.

"Oh, you poor thing!" Anira said, her hand still working between her legs. "Don't cry, be brave. Only four minutes to go. Is that another leak?"

Ellen nodded, too lost in concentration to speak. One leg rose, then the other, then the first again, one after the other in succession, but the leak just got bigger, until she felt it running down her thighs and splashing from her shins. She thrust both feet back to the floor, bobbed up and down until the flow stopped.

"Good girl. Three minutes."

Another surge came, her bladder screaming "Now!" in her head. She sank to her knees, resisted all but a tiny jet. No sooner had she risen came another surge, and this time a little more escaped, followed by another, and then another. She felt the jets starting and stopping almost rhythmically in her panties, heard the surging trickle sound from between her legs.

"I told you to hold it, girl." Anira said. "Come on, stop that flow for just two more minutes, and you can go inside."

Ellen tried. She wanted to join Anira on the swing-chair, she so wanted for her lips to be Anira's hand, she wanted for her face to be buried between those pale, slender legs, but she just could not stem the flow. The surges were bigger each time, the gushes more powerful, until it was no good. She sank to her knees, fell forwards, tried to pick herself up, but it was too late.

The clock ticked over to one last long minute as her muscles gave up completely. She felt her painfully-distended bladder emptying like an upended bucket through her legs, gushing like a waterfall into her white slacks. Tears poured down her face in unison, splashing onto the backs of her clenched fists as warm liquid jetted from her thighs, knees and flying ankles in all directions. She was soaked through, her socks and sandals sodden, splashing in her puddle as she lifted her feet one after the other, still trying to hold on even though her muscles had rebelled and no longer listened. Through her tears she gazed longingly at the egg on the table, saw as Anira gave her a look of disdain, picked it up and took it back into the house.

Ellen was left alone on the veranda as the last of her bladder's contents trickled down her now-stilled legs. A little river ran over the flagstones and dripped off the end of the steps, little splashes dropping from her out-thrust buttocks to the puddle at her feet. Warmth turned cold in the afternoon air and she was finally relieved, but she was sore, empty and alone.

Anira had gone. The vibrator had been withdrawn. She had been a bad girl, and she would get no reward.

A moment later Anira returned. "The bathroom is unlocked." She said curtly. "Put your clothes into the washer and go shower. Dry yourself as best you can when you are done, and I will come to change your underwear once you're finished."

"Can I join you here once I'm..." Ellen began, but Anira cut her off.

"We'll see, girl." She said, somewhat harshly. She sighed, then continued in a softer voice. "I know you tried hard for me. You tried to be a good girl. Once I've changed your underwear, maybe you can come sit with me and watch the grayset."

Ellen sighed. She knew what that meant. She knew that Lady Anira would watch the grayset, but Ellen would see nothing, for her eyes would be tightly shut, her lips puckered and her tongue working overtime. It was not the reward she had hoped for, but it was reward enough that tonight she may be allowed to bring pleasure to her beautiful lady, and if she finished fast enough, she may be allowed to lie next to her while the last rays of Gray disappear beyond the dusty horizon.

Ellen glanced at the empty table, at the seat where Anira settled herself and resumed her rhythmic stroking, at the puddle she had left on the veranda. She turned to the house and waddled inside to shower alone.