<strong>Candy, at the poolside with Ms. Prideux and other owners &amp; dogs<br/></strong><br/>I, along with the two other girls round the bowl, remained silent, aside from the gently lapping our tongues made as we drank the water. More than once I'd lifted my head up from the bowl and caught the eye of one of the other two, and each time both of us had looked like we were about to talk, to share some whispered words of comfort, but each time we returned to the bowl with downcast features. We couldn't risk speaking, even with those owners distracted in their own conversations. All it would take is for one word to be caught, and that would be that. No orgasm. No relief. Only punishment. In a way, that thought was more binding and constricting than the actual pieces of metal keeping us from walking and the cloth that stopped us manipulating items. We could all speak, but we couldn't. We all wanted to console one another, but we couldn't. I was sure the other two wretches drinking from that bowl knew as well.<br/><br/>I wiggled a little, my head bumping into the blonde haired girl next to the left of me as someone scratched me behind my ear... my dog ear. It was a strangely comforting feeling, almost like a mini-massage, and it took my mind momentarily off the aches plaguing my body. I wiggled by head back, pushing against the fingers so that pushed down harder. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel, before I felt the fingers slowly ease away from me, followed by a tight tug upon my collar. We were moving again. As I lifted my head up I managed to spare a glance at the blonde girl again, but nothing more. Ms. Prideux was pulling me away again.<br/><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote"><strong>"Now, young lady, Lead! Lead on! We shall do two more circuits of the gardens then it's time to fix those nasty achy titties of yours. Let's go past that nice Alsatian again, you can meet him if you like and have a sniff."</strong></blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br/>It was just her and me again. Though I hadn't noticed it, my breasts had been leaking all throughout the time I drank from the bowl, and I'd left two large milky wet patches where I'd been dripping. Being reminded of my breasts made me conscious of the pain again, and the mention as the Alsatian brought my sex back into focus. As we walked my mind kept switching between my tits and my pussy, alternately wanting to be milked and fucked ruthlessly. As we walked, or rather, Ms. Prideux walked and I crawled, the image of being fucked whilst<em>in </em>a milking device filled my vision, and incessantly refused to budge. I moaned out aloud, my legs shuddering as a fresh pang of desire shot through it. It was small comfort the Alsatian was missing. Even without him, I leaked nonstop. I could now feel my juices running down my thighs. Not dripping. I was actually leaking like a tap. I could feel my juices running down in streams down my thighs, and during the moments when she made me sit.. kneel... go down... I looked back and saw great puddles over wherever my pussy had been. Even as I walked, I could feel streaks of girl-juice mark out my path.<br/><br/>By the time we'd completed the second lap I felt close to collapse. Everything could be fucked or humped, without exception. Nothing I looked at was not immediately assessed to see how it could relieve me. Sticks, the blunt end of cutlery, empty wine glasses, the rough bark of a tree... everything. My eyes were by now wild and jumpy, flicking this way and that as my view of the world distorted. I was slowly being driven to insanity, though of course I didn't have the mental capacity at the time to think about that. It'd be a question of when, not if, I would snap. Just another minute... just another minute...