Oh dear- yet again another one-off. Sorry. Still working. Just this little nugget was clamoring to be born. So much so that it was blocking everything else.
*sigh*
Much better now.
For Eric -
You make a darn good muse.
-W
*****
"Enter." The voice, as strong and commanding as the man who owned it, called out at Hannah's soft knock. She opened the door carefully and entered the small, windowless basement cell. She turned to close the door behind her, needing that extra moment to quell her nerves before facing him.
"Karl," she said, her voice unsteady as their eyes met. He stood next to the neatly made twin bed, the small night stand behind him, its solitary lamp - the only illumination in the room - casting him in shadow, only his eyes glittering in the dimness. He was taller than her by only a handful of inches, but his demeanor made him seem so much larger to her.
He regarded her for a minute, smiling inwardly at the way she fidgeted under his scrutiny. "Come here, Hannah," he said, holding his hand out to her. She placed her hand in his as she stepped closer, her eyes cataloguing the contrast of her work-roughened fingers against his smooth ones. Her brows furrowing as she noted her chipped and cracked nails, callouses, and cracked skin.
"What is it?" he asked, catching her fleeting frown.
"It is nothing," she said, her eyes flicking up to his briefly before dropping to his chest. The silver buttons of his sharp military uniform cast a hazy reflection of herself, and she fought hard not to wince.
Karl saw the direction of her gaze and sighed, looking over her shoulder at the small mirror next to the door. He noted the coarse shabbiness of her brown coat, the cheap fabric of her skirt that had been mended in so many places the hem was uneven, her boots made of leather so poor it had nearly rubbed through on the side. Against the fine black and grey wool of his uniform, his silver epaulettes and shiny black leather jackboots, double "S" insignia and decorations, Hannah looked more than washed out. She looked like an old photograph; grainy, insubstantial.
Except her yellow star. That was clear. A beacon drawing his gaze.
"Take off your coat, Hannah," he said with a frown, his eyes locked on the emblem that marked her as less than human, marked her as a commodity.
Marked her for death.
She quickly obeyed, revealing a paper-thin cardigan with its own gold star beneath her coat. She folded the threadbare garment carefully and turned to place it on the shelf behind her. "Let your hair down and undress for me," Karl said, watching her back. He didn't want to see the symbols of her degradation anymore and was relieved she didn't turn to face him before complying. He took off his uniform jacket, hanging it on the peg behind him, and unbuttoned the placket of his breeches as she removed the pins holding her hair up, letting it fall to her shoulders before undressing further.
Hannah had removed all but her bra and panties when she felt him come up behind her. She stilled, unsure of what her next action should be as his arms moved around her and his fingers found her nipples and began pinching them. There was nothing tentative or hesitant in his touch; his fingers clamped down on her through the thick material of her bra.
"These have been neglected for a while, Hannah," Karl said against her ear. She whimpered her assent, nodding slightly as the sweet agony shot through her to settle in her cunt, even while her cheeks were aflame with shame and embarrassment. She crossed her legs, pressing her thighs together to alleviate the quickly growing throb in her sex. She sighed at the feel of his hands moving to her ass and caressing her briefly before turning her around to face him.
"Oh...Karl," she moaned as his hands went back to her nipples, fingers pinching and twisting roughly. She grabbed at his wrists, not sure if she wanted to pull his hands away or keep them in place. He pushed her left breast up with his right hand, bending to bite and suck at the flesh that bulged over the top of her bra cup as his left hand fisted her hair. She moaned, her hips bucking slightly as she unconsciously sought for something - anything - to help alleviate the tension coiling inside her.
Karl felt her movements and released her hair, his hand quickly landing a loud smack on her ass. Hannah moaned as he smacked her other ass cheek while his teeth and fingers worked at her breast. She squeezed her thighs together, desperate to get off. He suddenly released her flesh and moved his hand between her legs, lightly rubbing on the outside of her panties as he prodded her thighs apart. He could feel the heat, the humidity, coming from her pussy and he gave a small grin.
"Yesss," she hissed under her breath as he spanked her cunt. Hannah squeezed her eyes tightly shut as he did it again, and again, each time making her hips jerk as if chasing after the punishment. She wanted nothing more than to lay back on the little bed, her legs spread wide as he bit at her nipples and breasts and spanked her pussy until she came. Her cheeks grew even hotter and she felt the sting of tears begin as the thought of her wanting filled her with a sense of self-loathing.
"What is wrong, Hannah?" Karl asked, sensing her distress.
"It is nothing," Hannah whispered, opening her eyes but refusing to meet his stare. She looked at the dusting of hair below his throat. "I am just feeling sensitive." She turned her face to his, her posture asking for a kiss and he obliged. Alternating soft kisses with bites and rough thrusts of his tongue.
"Take your underwear off," he said, breaking the kiss and releasing her. He turned to get something off the little nightstand as Hannah removed the rest of her clothing. She turned back to find him holding a dark scarf in his hand. He folded it into a blindfold, smiling at the way she watched as he did.
"Do you trust me?" he asked, reaching out and pulling her to him at her nod. He secured the blindfold around her head and stood back for a moment, watching her. She was tense, scared, her breathing rapid and lips dry. She turned her head, straining to hear him move, when she suddenly felt his hand slap at her right nipple. She gasped, leaning forward unsteadily as he slapped at the other one.
"Come," he said, gently moving her to the little bed. He helped her lay back, pulling her by the ankles toward the end of the bed until her calves hung off the edge. He moved over her and kissed her, sucking and biting at her lips as she fought to capture his tongue in her mouth.
He eased back and moved his mouth down to her breasts, taking her right nipple between his teeth and biting down. Hannah arched her back as he alternated between chewing and biting and sucking and licking at her nipple, the shame at her reaction to his ministrations warring with her desire for it. He moved to her left nipple, giving it equal treatment as he fisted her hands in the blanket, willing herself to not ask for more, not beg him to make her come.
