It gets dark and Ciri gets hungry and thirsty

With a final, satisfied sigh, Garek sits up, his gaze drifting over to Ciri. He clears his throat before he begins to think out loud, "A traveler without a horse in this wilderness... that would be very unusual. Leni, go and see if you can find a horse nearby." Leni, who has been playing with a stick in the fire, nods and stands up. Without another word, she slips into her boots and sets off in search of Ciri's horse. Her swaying gait and the carefree way she ignores her half-buttoned waistband speak volumes about the sexual energy still lingering in the air. She disappears from view, and silence returns to the camp. Ciri is left alone with the men, bound and defiled. Her heart pounds in her chest. She's getting hungry. Ciri turns to the two remaining bandits. "I'm thirsty," she says in a hoarse voice, "and hungry." Jareth grins widely, looking over at Garek. "Do you hear that? The princess demands a feast." Garek, on the other hand, seems a bit more serious.

He gets up and goes to one of the packs, from which he takes out a piece of bread and a bag of dried meat. He sits down in front of Ciri, tears a piece off the bread, and holds it out to her. With her hands tied, she can't take it herself, so she reluctantly opens her mouth and lets him feed her. Out of the corner of her eye, Ciri sees Jareth place a water vessel on the ground with a mocking smile. His intentions become clear when he opens his trousers and takes out his already semi-erect penis. Ciri freezes, her gaze inevitably fixated on Jareth and his action. Her stomach clenches as she realizes what he's planning to do.

"You can't seriously be doing this...", she begins, but her words fade as she sees him start to slowly touch himself. With a dirty smile on his lips, Jareth begins to massage his penis. His hand moves rhythmically up and down as he visibly enjoys his body and the reactions it elicits. Despite the glaring light of the campfire, Ciri can make out the details: the veins standing out under his skin, the way his fingers are tightly wrapped around his shaft, the swollen head of his penis that flashes out with each of his movements. She can't help but watch, captivated by the fascination. The situation is humiliating, yet she can't look away.

Soon, Jareth begins to moan, his grip on his penis tightens, his movements speed up. And then, with a final, deep moan, he comes. His sperm shoots out in several bursts from his tip, landing in the water vessel, and transforming the clear water into a milky substance. The sight is grotesque and yet Ciri can't look away until Jareth withdraws and his member disappears back into his trousers. Garek, who has been watching the whole thing with an amused smile, picks up the vessel and walks over to Ciri. "Here, drink" he says, holding the vessel to her lips. Ciri stares at the milky water, unable to ignore the sight of the sperm in it. "No... I can't drink this," she murmurs, but Garek ignores her. "You're thirsty and you wont get something else" he repeats, still holding the vessel to her lips. After several moments of hesitation, Ciri finally opens her mouth and Garek tips the vessel so that the water - and the floating sperm - flows into her mouth.

The bandits burst into uproarious laughter as they see Ciri's face contort. She swallows hard and ignores the laughter surrounding her. As she empties the vessel, she tries to think of something else - the taste of water from the well in Kaer Morhen, the feeling of fresh air on her skin when she roams through the woods. When Leni returns to camp with Kelpie, Jareth greets her with a broad, satisfied grin. "I did it, Leni," he begins, his voice full of triumph. "I got Ciri to drink my sperm." Leni, who is just tying Kelpie to a tree, lets out a short but hearty laugh. She gives Ciri a quick, amused glance, and then replies calmly, "Don't worry, after a few times, it even tastes good." She chuckles softly as she heads to the fire and lays down. Jareth also laughs, satisfied with his little triumph. The last thing she hears before she sinks to sleep against the cold stake is the soft laughter of the two bandits.