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Found 1 result

  1. Lythe

    Waste Not

    Author's Note: Hi all! Just a quick reminder, this is a story involved anthropomorphic animals. This opening chapter doesn't contain desperation, but does set up the rest of the story. There will also be humiliation/domination themes throughout, so if this is something you don't enjoy please be aware! I'd love any feedback ya'll may have all well. Thanks! Chapter 1: "You've disappointed me, Subira." The deep, masculine voice cut through the air like a knife. Subira involuntarily pushed her canine ears back against her head. They lay flat as she stared down at the ground, utterly ashamed. Subira took pride in her position. She worked incredibly hard to please her King, her master. Knowing she had failed in such a public fashion was mortifying. "I give my most humble apologies, my King." She spoke from her kneeling position. The young female jackalfolk didn't dare look up. She didn't deserve to meet his gaze. The drought plaguing her people was the worst many had seen in years. It hadn’t rained in months. Their best shamans pleaded with the gods to send water, but so far their cries seemed to have fallen on deaf ears. Earlier in the day she had carelessly knocked down a servant carrying several clay pitchers full of water on a tray. Water that could have slaked the thirst of many citizens. Semut, her master, sighed. Normally, someone in his court making a mistake like this wasn't too difficult. But Subira had made it during the worst time, and in front of too many witnesses. He couldn't write it off, even if he'd have preferred to let someone he valued so highly off with a light judgement. He had to punish her, severely, for the transgression. More than that, it needed to reflect what she had done. Wasted water during a drought. He would have to think on it. Frustrated, he sent her away. "Return to my chambers at first light. I will begin your punishment then." Semut growled. He rose from his chair, flicking Subira away with an irritated paw. What was an appropriate punishment for one of his favorites for making such a stupid mistake? He couldn’t simply take away several days water rations from her. She would dehydrate, not to mention he still needed her to be able to perform her duties. She was one of the best in his court when it came to acquiring things. But how could Subira possibly pay back such a debt? Subira woke early the next morning. She had slept fitfully, not knowing what today would bring. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she got up, feeling the previous day’s burden upon her. She felt such a heavy guilt, knowing just how much precious water she had wasted. Hopefully Semut would help her atone more than just dole out some sort thoughtless of sentence. Subira doubted he would hurt her physically. She’d seen the king’s eyes upon her before. She knew she was a beauty to behold. She also doubted he would let her off easily, despite being one of his favored workers. Semut was known for handing out tough, but fair, judgements. She took her morning piss before dressing herself in some of her plainest clothes. A simple white cotton shirt that still showed her flat belly while covering her ample breasts, and a white flowing skirt to cover her lower body, cutting off at the knee. Realizing the sun would be coming up soon, Subira quickly made her way to Semut's chamber. The sun was just started to creep into the sky when she reached his entrance, and she knocked quietly. "Come in." Subira heard him beckon. She did so hesitantly, closing the door behind her. Her expression was contrite. The young woman truly hoped her King would have a suitable penalty awaiting her. "Subira, I take no pleasure in punishing one of my most valued workers." Semut sighed, rising from his bed. He was tall, particularly for a jackalfolk, standing a full six feet. Many rulers grew complacent, no longer working on themselves physically. Semut, however, hadn't quit. He was strong, and it showed from his muscular arms down to the noticeable abs. Often he could be found practicing swordplay with some of the most fearsome men in his army. Semut hadn't yet been dressed for the day, but he made no effort to cover himself. He was not a modest man. "I know you. How hard you toil at your post. Your punishment will suit your crime. Today, you will not waste water." He spoke clearly, walking over to stand in front of Subira, who had kneeled before him. "Look up." The man spoke. His dick hung in front of the petite jackalfolk woman. She was surprised, then confused. Did he expect her to service his cock? Her tail began to wag nervously. "Starting now, you will be given no water ration. Instead, you will drink my piss as I need release. You will not be permitted to let it out until I give the command. You will hold it in, no matter what, until you are allowed to let go. When I permit release, you will piss in a jug. When the jug is full, you will use it to water plants around the palace. This punishment will last until you fill the number of pitchers you so carelessly wasted." Semut concluded. "Do you understand your judgement?" Subira nodded silently. It was not what she had anticipated, but it was atonement. "Good." Semut spoke. “You will perform whatever duties I require of you outside of this. You will be at my side until you have fulfilled this punishment.” He pumped his hips forward lightly, jiggling his cock forward. The gesture was clear. Subira said nothing as she took his dick lightly in her mouth. She had no complaints she could voice. While she expected this to be miserable, it would truly make up for what she had done. As Semut’s hot, acrid piss began to fill her mouth, her eyes water. His first morning’s piss was awful. It was intense, and unpleasant, but there was nothing to be done but drink. And drink. And drink. It seemed as if her torment would never end, but at last his stream trickled down to a stop. Subira swallowed, grimacing as the taste stayed on her tongue. She could feel her stomach was now uncomfortably full of liquid. Dread settled in as she remembered just how many pitchers had been wasted the day before. Ten. This would not be the last morning piss she drank.