Captain Holt had called over to Strechley Manor that morning to inspect the latest hunter that Mr. Blakley had acquired, and he had spent two enjoyable hours devoted to equestrian matters and drinking ale with Mr. Blakley and his head groom.  Then he had been obliged to call into the house and pay his respects to Mrs. Blakley and her two daughters, discovering to his pleasure, that Florence Galworth was also present.  He was given no option but to accompany these ladies on a drive in their new carriage, and before leaving, to sample some of Mrs. Blakley's tea, a drink that she specialized in providing in numerous varieties.  Captain Holt suspected that Mrs. Blakley had hopes that he would be attracted to one of her daughters, but while he found these two to be pleasant, sociable girls, his preference was towards the older and more serious, if less attractive, Florence.

They had hardly been in the carriage more than fifteen minutes when Captain Holt began to feel a reminder of the ale he had consumed earlier.  This he had to attempt to put out of his mind, for it was not a matter that he could deal with in present company, when it would be quite unthinkable to make any mention of such a personal matter.  He engaged both Florence and the Blakley sisters in earnest conversation about the condition of the countryside, and the welfare of the farm workers, hoping that a serious and intellectual discussion, while not the conventional fare for a carriage ride on a fine morning, would detract from the discomfort that he was beginning to feel.  Captain Holt had spent most of his adult life in the Army, and was used to a life among men, where calls of nature were often answered openly, particularly by the lower ranks.  As an officer, Captain Holt had on occasions such as regimental dinners, been forced to restrain himself for long periods, and this morning he was preparing himself for such an ordeal. 

Some time later, when he began to realize that the carriage trip was going to take longer than he had anticipated, Captain Holt was becoming worried about the increasingly urgent demands his body was making.  With some concern, he reviewed the quantity of ale and tea he had consumed since leaving his house, the last time he had had a private moment.  Three, no four, glasses of ale, two cups of tea, and the coffee with his breakfast, were all demanding release with an ever increasing urgency that he could not answer.  He could not recall ever being in a situation like this, when he had no choice but to try to contain more than he might be capable of.  He tried to change his position to one more comfortable in the circumstances, but it would have been impolite to cross his legs in the manner he most wanted, so he resorted to pressing his knees and thighs together as hard as he could, and leaning back on the seat.  Captain Holt was wearing fashionably close fitting gray breeches, which were adding to his distress by applying pressure to his already aching abdomen, and he was trying to find some position where the tightness of his garments caused him the least discomfort.

As if these circumstances were not bad enough, the diverting conversation in the carriage was drying up, as Captain Holt was finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate on any subject, and Florence, whose remarks he had been most interested to hear, had also fallen almost silent.  Several times during the next half hour, Captain Holt suffered such crises of need that he had to lean forward and press his elbow against his private area, hoping that such an action was not noted by his companions, but regarded the alternative, a possible indiscretion in his breeches, as even worse.  As he was new to the area, and unfamiliar with the roads about Strechley Manor, Captain Holt could not gauge how much longer their journey would last, though this was irrelevant, as he had no choice but to contain himself until they returned to the house, however long this might take.

The road they were traveling on was in poor condition, and every jolt of the carriage was causing a stab of pain to shoot through Captain Holt's throbbing abdomen.  Since his need had first become apparent his discomfort had been remorselessly increasing, the aching fullness of his lower body become more and more painful as he was forced to continue to ignore the call of nature.  Now, after more than an hour of increasing discomfort, he was beginning to wonder how much longer he would have to hold out.  Never before in his life had he suffered such an extreme need for relief; his stomach was visibly swollen and hurting so much that he had to grit his teeth against the pain.  This he could, and would, endure, because a man, particularly an army officer, should be able to suffer any level of pain without complaint, particularly when he knew that it would end as soon as he was able to have a few minutes of privacy.  Worse than the pain was the increasing pressure he was suffering, a most urgent need to release his waters that was taking a more and more determined effort to resist.  The effort required to contain himself was becoming more that he could manage, and, regardless of etiquette, he had to cross his legs, twisting them tightly together as he fought to avoid disgracing himself.  Even in this position he could hardly find the strength to contain his waters, and whenever he was certain that the ladies' attention was diverted he would grip himself tightly for a few moments, savoring the slight relief this brought him. 

Just when he was reaching the point when he felt that any further restraint would be impossible, so great had become the pressure of his needs, Captain Holt realized they were approaching to gates of Strechley Manor, and within five minutes their journey would be over.   The thought of the relief that was so near was almost too much to bear, and he groaned with the effort he had to make to control himself as he struggled on the brink of disgracing himself.  So intense was his need that he felt himself losing control and automatically thrust one hand into his lap, gripping his manhood with all his strength.  Afraid that this action would make his condition obvious to the ladies, he moved his hand immediately, when, to his horror, he felt a spread of wetness in his underwear as he failed to contain himself for an instant.  The shock of this awful moment somehow gave him added strength to regain control, and he quickly rested both hands across his thighs so as to cover any sign of his indiscretion.

Even when the journey had nearly ended, his ordeal was not over, for he had never visited the house for long before, and had no idea where the room he had to visit so urgently was situated.  He could never embarrass any of the ladies by asking them for this information, and it would be rude to ask even Mr. Blakley this immediately on arrival.  Etiquette demanded that he should wait until Blakley offered him the use of these facilities, but he was far from certain that he would even be able to walk into the house without disgracing himself, and the prospect of having to stand, or sit, in the drawing room making polite conversation until he could bring his need to Blakley's attention was unendurable, and what would he do if Blakley was not present?  Faced with the prospect of almost certainly disgracing himself if he entered Strechley Manor, Captain Holt resorted to making some implausible excuse, saying that he was concerned about the walk of one of the horses, and that he would remain in the carriage and assist the groom in stabling the horses.  He would rejoin them later, he responded to their protests; it would only take five minutes to examine the horse, as he wanted.  Captain Holt knew that there was nothing wrong with the horses, and would not, at that moment, have been capable of noticing if there was, but was thinking only of the privacy and relief that the stables would offer him.

As soon as the ladies had dismounted from the carriage, Captain Holt twisted his legs together as his distress increased to a level he would not have thought possible, and then, as his desire became more than he could resist, he clasped himself tightly with both hands as he struggled to contain the imminent flood.  As they entered the stable yard, no longer caring about anything except his relief, Captain Holt leapt from the carriage and rushed into the nearest empty stall, frantically trying to unlace and unbutton his breeches and pull aside his underwear before the flood started.  But after so long under such strain, his body could respond to his demands no longer, and before his undressing was completed the dam burst and the pent up torrent began to pour forth.  As he at last managed to pull his clothing aside and allow his waters to gush unrestrained, Captain Holt could not resist a sigh of relief at the end of a time of such agonizing restraint. But this was rapidly tempered by dismay as he surveyed the dark, wet stains that had spread down the legs of his breeches when he had failed to contain himself at the last moment, disgracing himself so that he could not show himself at Strechley Manor any more.  No matter how dire the circumstances had been, it was unthinkable that any gentleman should be seen to have committed such a dreadful indiscretion, and should this become known, then he would ostracized by the whole of the county gentry. 

He was wondering how he could return home without his disgrace being seen when the head groom discretely entered the stable, guessing what condition the Captain had been in, and suspecting that he might have disgraced himself, as he had seen other gentlemen do on several occasions.  The groom coughed to attract Captain Holt's attention, surveying the marks on his breeches as he turned.  Such a situation was a lucrative event for an enterprising and discreet servant.

"I fear that one of the horses has misbehaved and soiled your breeches, sir," he said, providing Captain Holt with the excuse he had racking his brains for. "It would be unseemly for the ladies to see you in such a state.  Perhaps you wish to return home and change, while I will get the footman to proffer your apologies to Mrs. Blakley."

Captain Holt could scarcely hide his gratitude for the groom's strategy.  His honor would be preserved, as would his social status in the county.  He reached for his purse and pressed a guinea into the groom's hand.

"Do you wish to borrow a cloak to cover yourself on the journey?" continued the groom, offering him the garment.  Captain Holt took it with gratitude, and another two guineas changed hands. In his agitated state, he would have paid the groom ten guineas if he had demanded that sum, and still considered it cheap to conceal his dreadful indiscretion.

Neil and Rosemary

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