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307 Words
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“Oh, man!” Amy heard her attacker exclaim. “You were right. She is good!” She just kept coughing, trying to spit the last of his load out onto the ground.
“Think how much better she’ll be once she’s been trained,” her handler chuckled nastily. “She’ll even swallow then, and beg for more.” He gave her leash another one of those infuriating tugs. “Come on, b***h,” he said to her. She could almost hear the grin he must be wearing behind his mask. “You earned your drink. Come on, this way.”
Amy shuffled forward on her knees, slowly covering the few feet of space that lay between her and the edge of the little stream. Still kneeling, she bent over, lowering her head to a small pool of water backed up behind some rocks. She knew that the pose exposed her p***y to the view of anyone who felt like looking, but she was beyond caring about preserving what little was left of her modesty. She lapped tentatively at the water. It tasted clean and cold. She painstakingly lapped up a mouthful and swished it around in her mouth before spitting it out onto the ground. Now with most of that awful, salty taste out of her mouth she could concentrate on drinking. She didn’t know how long they would let her drink, so she lapped and slurped vigorously. She even arched her back and wriggled her hips a little to give them something to look at while she drank. It might buy her a little more time.
They let her drink her fill, making crude comments about her as they waited. Her handler kept stroking her back and her ass, as if he was petting a dog. Amy felt her face burning with shame, but it was much more important to get the water she had worked so hard for, so she tried to ignore them, and the hands caressing her bare flesh.
- Writer
