Drink: a Circle of Denial Story Ch. 02
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This is a continuation of Drink: A Circle of Denial Story, which can be found on my memberpage. The Circle of Denial stories are based on my erotic thriller, Rhiana, which can also be found at my memberpage. If you wish to know more about the Circle of Denial, please refer to that story.
I’d like to thank those who added comments or sent feedback to my last Drink story. This story is for all those who long to read about a poor, defenceless slave forced to hold her full bladder at the whim of her vicious Mistress. This story also contains lesbian sex.
Although I have no specific plans for a third chapter, I may torment poor Ellen’s bursting bladder with a further desperate adventure I get enough feedback.
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The super-bright star at the centre of the remote Gray system shone down onto the northern hemisphere of Bliss, over the Blue Mountains, over the dry grasslands of Hestavia, over the great Lake Victoria and its smaller sisters, over the choking sprawl of the northern capital of Minerva, and over its wooded suburbs, where wooden bungalows baked in the heat of a Minervan summer Sunday.
Mid-morning graylight filtered in through the kitchen window of one little bungalow among a remote estate of many, and washed over the pale arms of a young slave as her hands worked beneath the suds, polishing grease from the crockery. Reddish-blonde hair hung down her back in curls and hung over her brow where it often got in her eyes. With a flick of her head she tossed it aside and continued to work, shoulders back and belly held away from the worktop to keep her thin white slacks and blouse dry. So sheer and light was the loose material on her back and legs that her undergarments were visible through it, slender panties and bra of a mottled beige smart-fabric called Flexilon.
The slave stood with her legs together, slightly crossed. She had been ignoring the tickle in her belly for a while — in fact she had been enjoying the sensation somewhat, as it was the closest she came to any kind of pleasurable feeling in that part of her body. Lady Anira had failed to unlock her Flexilon panties in recent weeks, save for showers and shaving, and the flesh inside was beginning to feel somewhat more than neglected. The tickle of a near-full bladder could be quite enjoyable, until it became too much to bear.
The warm water around her hands and the sound of her splashes in the sink were beginning to make things feel more urgent than they really were. She shifted on her feet, lifted her knees once or twice, wiggled her hips so that her white slacks danced over her pert round buttocks.
The last few plates took no time to wash and dry and return to their place in the cupboard, and then she took only a few moments more to empty the bowl and wipe down the sink before she skipped out of the kitchen towards the bathroom. Her chores were mostly done, and it was a beautiful summer’s day. There may even be time to relax. Sometimes Lady Anira took her for a walk on a Sunday afternoon, holding her hand as they strolled through the evergreen woods or long brown grasses that surrounded the city of Minerva. Sometimes they sat together in the garden, where Lady Anira played with her reddish-blonde hair, stroked her neck, and generally pampered her in a way that made her feel most loved and wanted. Sometimes they just curled up on the sofa and enjoyed each other’s company.
The cool tiles of the bathroom floor radiated a gentle chill to the heat of the day and soothed Ellen’s work-warmed feet as she stepped over the threshold. A shiver ran up her spine and she shifted her hips as a sudden wave of desperation — brought on by the cold floor and the sight of the toilet only a few paces away — threatened to overwhelm her control. The metal contacts on the side of the toilet, where she had to touch her wristbands to signal the opening of the slit in her locked panties, gleamed in the graylight
A voice interrupted her as she began to pull at the buttons on her white slacks.
“Ellen, what are you doing?” Lady Anira called from her study, her voice as bright and sunny as the mid-morning sky.
“Just using the bathroom, Mistress.” Ellen replied.
“Come to me a moment, my girl.”
“May I please use the bathroom first, Mistress?”
“No, girl. To me.”
Ellen obeyed, turning on her toes and stepping swiftly to the study. The moment two weeks ago was still fresh in her mind, when Lady Anira had taken her to the park and watched as her bladder filled to bursting, and then made her hold herself until she simply could not keep it in any longer. She had hated Lady Anira for that, just as she loved her; Lady Anira was her owner, her Mistress, and her devoted lover. Ellen had cried tears of humiliation when her tortured bladder had finally let go on the patio, and tears that soaked her nose and cheeks as she buried her face between Lady Anira’s legs and brought her to orgasm. Her belly had ached a little the next day, and she had burned with shame bahis siteleri when she saw the stains that she had left on the patio slabs. It had been horrible, and as Ellen entered the airy brightness of the study she could not help but feel a little trepidation, as if some warning signs were beginning to flash in the back of her head. She needed to pee, and Lady Anira had stopped her.
Lady Anira greeted her with a wide smile. “How are you doing with your chores, my sweet?”
“All done, Mistress.” Ellen bobbed as she replied.
“And the linen?”
“And the dusting?”
“You are a good girl, aren’t you?”
Ellen smiled. “Only for you, Mistress.” She said, then tried to wipe the grin from her face as she saw Lady Anira’s soft cheeks turn pink and her mouth turn up at the corners.
“Flattery will get you nowhere, my girl.” Anira smirked.
“But please don’t stop just because of that.”
Ellen smiled once again, uncontrollably, infected by the smile on her owner’s face. She loved her in a way she never thought possible; she was not voluntarily a slave, and would be free were it not for the slavebox on the base of her skull, the illegal computer chip that plugged into her neural implants and kept her wirelessly connected to the house computer wherever she went. Lady Anira had bought her from the underworld slave-house some five months ago for a little household help, and had immediately fitted her irremovable Flexilon bra and panties, along with her wrist and ankle-bands, as a mark of ownership. At first she had been terrified, and then horribly frustrated as the weeks passed and her untouchable flesh became ever more tender, until Lady Anira had come to her one hot and lonely midnight and released her from her frustration with her delicate mouth and tongue.
She could be a hard mistress, when she was of a mind, but she could also be deliciously tender and sweet as sugar, and it did not take long for Ellen to fall under her aloof and mysterious spell. She made love to Anira whenever she was allowed, and learnt how to take over her body and play her like a musical instrument, and on infrequent occasions she was rewarded with the same: her Flexilon garments would become loose, Anira’s hands or tongue would cross their forbidden boundaries, and she would shake and shudder and writhe until she exploded at the gates of ecstasy.
“You are so very beautiful, girl.” Lady Anira said at last, breaking the blushing silence, as she stood from her deep leather desk chair and stepped across the room to where Ellen stood. Her slender hands reached forth and slid under Ellen’s chin, around her neck, cradled her head as if it were a glass ball only microns thick, and in a heartbeat their lips met.
Ellen stood motionless as she let Lady Anira kiss her in a way she had not been kissed for a long time. They kissed regularly, usually daily, but not always like this: not always was Anira’s tongue so exploratory or animated as it played around Ellen’s teeth; not always did Anira’s lips seek to devour Ellen’s so deeply or so tenderly. Ellen would have returned the kiss with all the vigour she received, were she not to stunned by its suddenness and its tenderness that she was rooted to the spot.
Eventually Lady Anira broke away, pushing Ellen’s head gently backwards. She blinked and opened her eyes, let out a sigh, stared into Lady Anira’s deep blue eyes as they swum in their pale sea, equidistant between the shores of her straight dark hair.
“You liked that, didn’t you, girl?” Anira said with a smile that turned her pale cheeks red once again.
Anira grinned, stepped around her, took her into an embrace from behind. Ellen swam in heart-racing euphoria as she felt Lady Anira’s thighs touch her buttocks, her belly and breasts touch her back, her nose nuzzle through her long hair to clear a path for her lips to touch the back of her neck. She loved to be spooned by Anira; she felt so wanted and protected when she was encased in her body, penned in by delicately exploring fingers and lithe, slender arms.
Anira’s hands rode up Ellen’s blouse, unfastened the buttons one by one, pulled it from her shoulders where it fell softly to the floor, exposing the black-and-beige weave of the smart-fabric that encapsulated her breasts. She felt Anira’s lips move at her neck as she whispered something silently, and with a ping the smart-fabric became loose and sagged around her ribs. A quick flick from Anira’s hands sent it skimming to the floor where it landed beside her blouse.
Ellen glanced down at the pale orbs standing proud on her chest. She saw them every night, when Lady Anira showered her, but for some time they had been caressed by nothing more than warm soapy water and a soft towel. Her neglected nipples stood erect and ached to be touched, an ache that Lady Anira must have sensed for she homed in on them, cupped canlı bahis siteleri Ellen’s breasts in her hands, massaged and stroked and gently squeezed towards her nipples as if trying to milk them.
“Is that nice, girl?” Anira whispered into her ear.
“Yes, Mistress.” Ellen purred in response, arching her back to rub her buttocks into Anira’s thighs.
“Good girl. You’re very responsive today.”
“You haven’t touched me for a long time, Mistress.”
Anira sighed. “Do you know how long for?”
“Seven weeks, two days, three hours and forty-three minutes.” Anira slurred. “That’s how long it’s been since I last played with you, isn’t it? I’ve been a bad mistress, neglecting my sweet girl for so long. You must have been needing me so badly.”
“Every night, Mistress. Every night and every day I’ve needed you.”
“Well now you have me.” Anira whispered. She gave another silent movement of her lips, and Ellen’s panties became slack at her waist. An exploratory hand began to trace down her belly, long fingernails caressing the little bulge between her hips, unfastening the buttons on her slacks and slipping under the slack waistband of her panties.
“Please, Mistress…” Ellen whispered, choking on her own words in the heat of the moment and the embarrassment of the question she had to ask. “May I please use the bathroom first?”
“What’s that, girl?” Lady Anira whispered, delivering delicate kisses to her ear.
“Please Mistress, may I pee?”
“No, girl.” She hissed almost silently. “I don’t want to let you go.”
“I don’t want you to let me go either Mistress, but I think I should go before…”
“I said no, girl.” Anira whispered, a little louder. “What do you say?”
“Yes, Mistress.” Ellen squeaked. The exploring nails of both Anira’s hands had passed the little patch of stubble where she had been shaved, tickled over her pubis, and were playing at her moist lips. She had been wet within the first few seconds of Anira’s delicious kiss, but the fingers at her neglected flesh were drawing yet more heat from inside her. The tickling nails were only millimetres from her hood, where they could no doubt give her what she craved, and so did she crave it, but she also knew that tickles there would conflict with the tickles in her bladder, and too much stimulation might be enough to make her lose control. Oh, why oh why did Lady Anira have to pick this very unexpected moment for an amorous encounter? She could break free and run to the bathroom to empty her near-full bladder, but Lady Anira would be angry and upset. Her moods might have shifted by the time she returned. Ellen’s Flexilon panties would probably go straight back on, and her aching body would go without what it needed once more.
Anira’s fingertips stroked back and forth over Ellen’s stubble, pulling it this way and that, indirectly stimulating her covered clit and sending little warning messages up to her brain that her closed sphincter was being stretched to the point that it might leak.
“I think you need to be shaved, girl.” Anira said softly after another kiss to her earlobe. “What do you think? Do you want to be shaved?”
“Yes, Mistress.” She replied almost immediately. They would have to go to the bathroom for her to be lathered and shaved — there she could probably use the toilet while Anira got the razor washed and ready.
“Come with me.” Anira said brightly, taking her hand and leading her from the study. Her slacks and panties slid down her thighs and she grabbed them with her spare hand, slipped out of them, let them fall to the carpet as she ran naked through the warm air of the house.
“Sit there.” Anira said, pointing to the closed lid of the toilet. Ellen stepped across the tiles, pulled the lid open as Anira turned to fetch the razor and foam from the cabinet. “What are you doing, girl? Lid down.”
“Mistress, can’t I just…”
“No, girl. Sit on the lid.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Ellen said with a long sigh, closing the lid once more and sitting herself onto its cold surface. Her skin recoiled and her buttocks tightened; she closed her legs against the cold and against the tickle inside her. She could hold on a little longer if she had to, but it would be so much more enjoyable if she could completely lose herself to the moment of being touched and pampered by Lady Anira, and not have to endure the feeling of a full bladder. She longed for her lips to meet with Anira’s once more, longed to have Anira’s hands between her legs again; she loved the intimacy and the delicacy of being shaved, but she wanted to feel it without the urge at the back of her mind.
“Wait there a moment, girl.” Lady Anira said, leaving the razor in the sink under the running tap. She left the room, and Ellen wriggled unwittingly on the cold toilet seat as the sound of running water echoed inside her head. Anira returned a moment later with a large glass of juice, which she handed to Ellen.
“Here, drink this while I shave canlı bahis you, there’s a good girl.”
Ellen glanced at the cold liquid, then back at Anira once more, looked into her playful blue eyes, saw in them the characteristic hardness that was often present. She could not argue — she had been given an order.
She took a few sips as Anira spread lather between her legs with a brush. It was fresh apple juice and tasted delicious, a divine accompaniment to the soft bristles of the brush between her legs. The razor came next, its head cold and wet, forcing Ellen to yelp and sit forwards suddenly.
“Sit back, girl, and keep your legs open. You don’t want me to nick you, do you?”
“I wouldn’t want to cut my beautiful girl. Drink up, you’ll get dehydrated in all this heat.”
Anira made swift work of cutting the fine stubble from Ellen’s puffy pubis while Ellen took ginger sips from the cold glass. She had almost drained its contents when Anira sat back and fetched a warm flannel to wipe away the remains of the lather.
“There, nice and smooth.” Anira sighed. She looked up at Ellen with a wry smirk, and winked. “I think you’re horny.”
With her slender fingers she gently pulled Ellen’s lips apart, revealing the collected heat that glistened within them and her semi-engorged clitoris, reddening further under Anira’s gaze.
“Mistress, please don’t pull me there…” Ellen heard herself say as warning messages hammered in her brain.
“You don’t like me touching you, girl?”
“Of course I do, but I need to go, and you’re going to make me… No, Mistress!” Ellen shot forward quickly and slammed her legs shut as Anira gave a playful tug under her clit, but it was too late — a little trickle ran down her lips and onto the toilet seat, where it pooled under her thighs. She turned her eyes to the floor, lowered her head, felt her cheeks and chest flush bright red.
“Oops!” Anira said with a bright smile. “My poor girl! Never mind, open up, let me wipe that away.”
Ellen reluctantly obeyed, pulled her legs gently apart and lifted her buttocks from the seat so that Anira could wipe the warm flannel over her dampened flesh, returned her body to the wet seat as she withdrew it and tossed it into the washing basket. She closed her legs again and sat forwards against the growing urge in her bladder, but Anira stopped her with a soft finger to her chest.
“No, girl, sit back and open up, let Mistress play with you.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Ellen sighed, as she sat back against the cistern and let her legs open once more. Her bladder throbbed a little in this position and the muscles between her legs complained at being asked to hold back the pressure, but she could not deny herself more of Anira’s much-needed attention. She would hold on as long as she could before she asked again; Anira would have to let her go before they retired to the bedroom or the garden or the lounge, or wherever they would ultimately go to make love.
Anira’s fingers found Ellen’s clit, hidden once more under its hood, and began to push it around in small circles. Her other hand rode upwards, onto Ellen’s tickling belly, and there they began to circle around slowly, long nails tickling her further. Ellen sighed a sigh that was both deep and tight, both pleasured and tortured. Was Anira doing this on purpose?
She felt her pulse rise, felt the breath in her chest turn hot and sticky. Her eyes sunk as her chest rose; a prickly flush danced across her pale skin. Anira’s fingers were working a subtle magic on her that never failed to hit the mark, even from her awkward and undignified angle kneeling in front of the toilet. It was not like Lady Anira to maintain an undignified pose, and it surely would not be long before she broke off her stroking and moved Ellen to the bedroom to continue. Surely she’d be allowed to empty her bladder before she left the bathroom?
“Come, girl.” Anira said, as if reading Ellen’s mind; she withdrew, leaving Ellen suddenly breathless for lack of pressure on her hooded clit. She delicately grasped Ellen’s hands and pulled her to her feet with a tender strength that bellied her slender arms. “We’ll continue in the bedroom.”
For a moment Ellen resisted her pulls. “Mistress, can’t I please go, quickly, before…”
“I said we’ll continue in the bedroom.”
“But Mistress…” Ellen said, and was disappointed to hear an edge of whining in her voice that she had hoped to avoid. Involuntarily her knees bent and she felt herself digging her bare heels into the tiles like a stubborn child.
Anira narrowed her eyes and gave a silky smile, beautiful and seductive, yet supremely confident; Ellen felt herself melting to it and unable to disobey it. Anira was stronger than her, and they both knew it. “I wish to make love to you, girl, and I am an impatient lover. You will come with me.”
The pressure in her bladder, however, increasing all the while since she had drunk the glass of juice, was not to be ignored so easily. “Mistress, please, I really have to go now, I’ve been waiting since I started the dishes and that was well over an hour ago, and I drank all that juice, and…”
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