The Cigarette

"I believe I just gave you a compliment," Sarani said, dryly. "What do you say?"

"I-" Even after everything she'd made me do, I still choked at the words. "Thank you, ma'am."

"I think it's time we called things for what they really are. Don't you?"

There didn't seem to be more than one possible answer, but I dreaded finding out where she was going with this. I nodded, throat suddenly constricted.

"You like being naked on your knees before me, don't you?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I'd like you to look into my eyes when we have this conversation."

I couldn't. I just couldn't. I'd rather die. "Please-"

"Are you a coward, then? A little hypocrite?"

"Fuck you!" I snapped, looking up. "You've no right to-"

"No?" Her voice got scary silky. "You gave me the right. Remember?"

I'd never walked on thin ice and felt it crack under my feet, but I imagined it would feel something like this. It occurred to me that she would keep doing this, keep handing me just enough rope to hang myself with.

"Is your cunt wet?"

I forced myself to meet her gaze. "Yes."

"Do you think it says something about you, that you get off on this? Kneeling, crawling, licking my boots, begging me to hurt you, begging me to touch you. Just begging, really. What's up with that?"

I couldn't answer. There was no words for this, no explanations, no reasons. I just watched her, helplessly, silently pleading with her to let me off the hook.

"You look pathetic. And delicious. I can't even tell you how hot it is to see you like that, all desperate and horny and terrified and eager to obey. Spread your legs. Good. You look like a cheap whore."

"Please," I whispered.

"Please what?"

"Please don't make me-- don't--"

"I'm going to make you do whatever I want to. That's the deal, isn't it? It's what you want. Isn't it?"

I swallowed thickly. "Yes."

"You want me to treat you like dirt, don't you? You want me to humiliate you."

I closed my eyes and nodded.

"Not good enough. Look me in the eyes and say it."

It took all of my pride and all of my courage to meet her gaze and force the words out. "Yes. I want it."

"Ask for it."

"Please-" I took a pained breath. "Please humiliate me. Ma'am."

"Why?"

"I want it. I need it. Please. It gets me off. Please."

"I don't know. I'm hearing a lot about you here. What's in it for me?"

She must have seen the disbelief in my eyes. I considered and discarded half a dozen of snarky retorts, and finally settled for the easy out: "What do you want?"

She smiled. It was the kind of slow, cruel, deliberate smile that can turn a girl's insides to ice. She reached out and touched my face, gently. Then she spat in my face.

I'd have recoiled in shock and disgust if she hadn't grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and held me.

"Say 'thank you'."

I opened my mouth but couldn't force the words out. She crouched down until we were at eye level, leaned forward and licked the spit from my face. It could have been kindness, I guess, but it felt horrible, invasive and shameful, and just when I was trying to figure out how to deal with it her fingers reached my wet cunt and started stroking it, never penetrating, just coating her hand with my juices. I whimpered, pushing my cunt towards her.

Sarani laughed. "There's just no stopping you, is there? Look at the mess you made." She held up her glistening fingers for me to see. The scent of my own cunt was undeniable, and I couldn't even pull away from it, the way she held me. She wiped her wet fingers against my face, then held them up to my mouth. "Lick them clean. Impress me, and maybe I'll let you lick my cunt too."

There is an art to sucking a woman's fingers. You want to do it so well, so thoroughly, and with enough gentle pressure that they can't help but start imagining what it would be like to have a cock. It's one of my biggest turn-ons. It's nonsensical, of course. You can't make her come by sucking her fingers, but by putting everything you have into it, you can make it a demonstration of your willingness to serve, a proof of your skills, a tease and a promise all in one.

I licked her fingers, taking them into my mouth one after the other, sucking them, playing with my tongue, careful to keep my teeth away. I could tell that she liked it from the way she allowed me to linger over the task, sucking, kissing and licking long after any trace of my pussy juice was gone.

"Enough." Her voice was hoarse. She stepped back and eased her jeans and boxers down, stepping out of them. Her cunt was covered in curly brown hair, and I was close enough to see that I wasn't the only one getting off on this. I drank in the sight of her, muscular calves, the soft, pale hairs on her legs, the long, thin scar on her left thigh, her flat stomach.

"Please, ma'am," I whispered. "Let me taste you. I want to touch you so bad."

"What part of 'I decide if you get to speak' don't you understand?" She grabbed my hair and pulled my head back. I could smell her strong, musky scent. I wanted to grab her thighs and bury my face between her legs, but the belt held my arms firmly trapped behind my back.

"You're just a toy, Nielsen. You think I give a damn what you want?" She straddled me so that he cunt was inches away from my face. "Stick out your tongue."

I obeyed. She brushed her cunt against my tongue, damp and hot like a fever, her curly hairs tickling my nose and lips. I whimpered as she began rubbing against me, using my face like toy to get her off. I was used to licking pussy, but this was something different. My knees were aching, and my neck was starting to hurt from craning, but she held me fixed in place, hand tangled in my hair, legs on either side of me. I struggled to breathe as she smothered me with her cunt and the taste of her filled my mouth. My whole face was covered in her juices, and as she began to groan and grind her cunt harder against my face I heard myself whimpering and moaning in response, my empty pussy desperate for stimulation.

I have never felt as used in my life.

She shuddered when she came, and I felt the tension melt out of her body as she released my hair and took a step back. I swallowed thickly, licking my lips. I knew I must look a mess, face all flushed, sticky and glistening with her juices, with pubic hair in my mouth.

I expected her to mock me for it, but she turned her back on me like I wasn't even there and began to get dressed. She put on her boxers and jeans and pulled her hair back in the usual neat ponytail.

I made a distraught noise, and she shot my a glance over my shoulder. "What? Were you expecting me to fuck you now?"

There was so much condescension in her voice that I blushed. She sat down at the lower bunk and pulled on her boots, giving me these considering glances.

"Oh, what the hell." Sarani snapped her fingers at me. "Get over here."

I went to her on my knees, arms still tied together behind my back. In truth, it didn't even occur to me to get up, and she probably would have snapped my head off if I'd tried.

Sarani wiped my mouth with the back of her hand, then looked at her hand and grimaced. "You need a shower." She wiped her fingers across my chest, making me feel even more filthy. Still I couldn't help but lean into the touch. A little smile tugged at the corner of her lips. She stroked my breasts, first one, then the other, running her nails over my nipples, making them harden.

"Did I ever mention what my favorite game is?"

I looked up at her, questioning. She tugged at my nipples, squeezing and rolling them between her fingers, alternating between making me gasp in pleasure and wince in pain.

"Tease and denial." She grinned at the look on my face. "Imagine what it would be like to feel like this, all the time? To dream of sex every night? To wake up and find yourself grinding your cunt against the mattress? To not be able to think of anything other than being pounded by a thick, hard cock, having all your holes filled, being covered in cum and begging for more?"

She kicked my legs apart and placed one foot between my thighs, pressing the steel-capped toe against my cunt. I grunted and very carefully did not move, watching her with desperate, pleading eyes.

"You're lucky I need you to be able to focus tonight. So, here's the deal. When I say 'go', you're going to rub your cunt against my boot and make yourself come. We both know you're nothing but a whore, so there's not point in trying to keep the noise down. But this is the only time I'll ever let you off the hook this easy. If you play with me again, you'll learn what it means to have to work for your pleasure. All right?"

I nodded, too desperate and horny to think beyond the possibility that there might be another time with her.

"Go."

That was all the encouragement I needed. I fucked myself on her boot as she watched me, amused by the way I writhed and moaned, digging my nails into the palms of my hands. It didn't take long for me to come.

She ran her fingers through my hair. "Well done, Nielsen. I'm pleased with you."

***

It took me a while to clean myself up. After making sure that I was okay and there was nothing I needed, Sarani kissed me and left me alone, only pausing in the doorway to tell me that she hadn't had as much fun in months.

There was no shower in the cabin, but I went into the bathroom and washed myself at the sink, replaying the events of the night over and over in my head. There were some bruises on my arms, thighs and back, but nothing that would show under my clothes. I was suddenly ravenously hungry.

When I got back downstairs, Wygotzki and Cherkov greeted me with wolf whistles and a round of applause that made me want to sink through the floor. Cherkov slapped my back and I fought to hide the wince. Over his shoulder, Sarani grinned at me.

"There's some sandwiches on the counter. We're moving out in thirty minutes."

"Got it," I said.

I finished three sandwiches in a matter of minutes, earning myself another impressed whistle.

"Hey, Nielsen?"

I looked up. Sarani pulled something from her front pocket and held it out to me. It was the cigarette she'd confiscated earlier.

"Go ahead," she said with a nod. "You've earned it."

She leaned over and lit it for me, and I sat back and closed my eyes, taking a deep drag. No cigarette had ever tasted as sweet.