Night fell, and Samia was released into Varga’s custody.
She could barely meet the captain’s eye as her shackles were removed. She was sweaty, hair matted with sweat and cum, face a little sticky, pussy and assholes sore. She struggled to stand, never mind walk.
Frost smirked as he looked from Samia to the captain.
“We’ve sure put the whore to work today, Captain,” he said.
“I can see that.” Varga was unamused. “Very gentlemanly of you. I can see the tow of Jocia is in good hands.”
“The law is the law here, and with good reason. Sluts like this one are no good, they don’t belong in civilised places.”
Varga turned his back on the sergeant, handing Samia a robe. She took it and covered her shame, hoping he hadn’t seen the soreness of her pussy. She felt shame that all the fucking today had given her such pleasure. It felt worse to look at Varga; a man who would treat her right.
He gave her socks and boots too, and she put them on, walking down the mountain with him, feeling the warmth of the robe, and the comfort of not having to walk the rocks with her bare feet.
“I am sorry I could not be of further help, Selena,” he said when they were alone. “I am sorry that you must endure this… humiliation.” His breath steamed in the frosty air. The small stones of the mountain already glittered with a crystal glow.
“Do not apologise, Varga. But please, do one thing for me.”
“Anything.”
“Don’t call me Selena. At least not for now. If anyone asks, my name is Samia. I cannot let anyone know my real name.”
“Of course, Samia.”
“I feel such shame, that we are meeting again, under these circumstances. But I must thank you, for what you have done for me. That cell was so cold; I might’ve died if I spent another night in it.”
“Perhaps you could thank me by telling me what is happening, what you are doing.”
“I shall try.”
“I have arranged a bath for you, it should have cooled enough by the time we arrive.”
“That is the best thing I’ve heard all day. Thank you, Varga.”
