C O L L E C T A B L E S

shotgun

"Did you come to ask how my arm is doing?" The physician asked the soldier, who's gaze lingered on the purple-yellow tattoo on her forearm.

"No," the woman answers abruptly.

Later she realizes how insensitive she sounded.

"Wait-i mean-I'm sorry-"

The physician couldn't stand to see the soldier stammering. "Take a deep breath," she instructed.

The woman snapped her loose mouth shut. Doing as she's told, she lets the dusty air fill her nostrils, her lungs and her cavity.

Haaa....

"How is your arm?" The soldier asked. Properly this time.

The corner of the physician's lip curls ever so slightly. It goes unnoticed by the other woman. 

"It's healing well," the physician answers. 

The soldier watches the doctor retrieve a pack of high-grade tobacco rolls from her coat. It's box white like rest of her. The thin roll sticks between her pale-purplish lips, slender fingers lighting its end with a silver lighter. The flame is tempestuous, licking the tip of the roll till the scent of burning leaves reach the soldier's nose.

Her own lips itch to latch onto the end of that same roll.

"Now, go on. Tell me what you're really here for," the physician ushers, smoke mixing with her words.

The soldier takes a few steps closer, drawn in by the smell. "I was told I needed to meet with you to get into that list to visit one of my men in the ICU."

"Is that so?" 

The physician takes another drag at her cigarette, almost at its half; crackle of the embers loud. A sign the soldier was once told that the tobacco leaves were still fresh and sweet. She still remembers the last roll she had two years ago. It had tasted like smoked raisins and dry wood.

Delicious.

"Do you want some?" The physician asked, throwing off the soldier from her inner thoughts.

"What?"

"I asked if you wanted some." The physician repeats, tilting the cigarette towards her.

The soldier jumps at the opportunity, "Can I?"

"Sure."

The soldier expects the pale doctor to pass her the roll, instead she takes another drag. One that's deeper and longer. Then she walks up to the soldier, closing the 2 feet distance between them. Her icy hand trickling behind her neck to guide her forwards till their lips almost touch. The soldier doesn't think twice and parts lips, sucking in the white line of smoke into her mouth when the physician blows. The hit sends tingles to the base of her spine; week old tension in her muscles and brain disappearing in record time.

The smoke tasted different from what the soldier had expected. Crisp, minty with a smoky aftertaste, unusual, but acceptable.

"Do you want some more?" The physician asked.

The woman opened her eyes, having closed them involuntarily. The physician's face centimeters away from hers. That cold palm behind her neck suddenly felt gentle on her skin.

"Yea."

The soldier grabs ahold of her wrist, to which the physician doesn't resist. She brings the roll to her lips, finishing the rest of it. The smoke staying in her mouth as if she savoured it all to herself, but then she mimics the physician's movements. One hand palming that skinny neck, the other circling that bony waist. She blows and the doctor receives.

Somewhere along the way, the mood had shifted and the soldier had forgotten what she came here for. All she could think about what how the physician's mouth felt warm unlike the rest of her. Hands slipped underneath the soldier's shirt, fingertips like frostbites grazing her bandages.

The soldier flinches, hisses from the pain, but the physician doesn't stop. Her shirt is pulled up to reveal the soldier's faint abs and binded chest, and the physician drops the fabric to the floor along with her knees. Two pairs of hands fumble with the hem of the soldier's pants, the physician's taking lead to strip the other woman bare waist down. She stuffs her Roman nose in between the woman's sex, inhaling her disgustingly intoxicating stench.

The soldier fists a tuff of white-blonde hair. "Wait, " she groans.

The physician looks up at her with beady black eyes, licking her lips. "For what?"

For what, indeed?

It wasn't that the soldier hadn't been with a woman before, but she most definitely hadn't been with someone who was higher than a third class. Would there be repercussions? She wasn't sure. She looked at the physician on her knees with a hungry look in her eyes. Her pale hands that were carefully prying her legs open.

"Just relax," the physician eased. "I'll take care of you."

The soldier pulsed at the breathing on her cunt. Her head falling back when the doctor's slick tongue laps at her. She bites down hard on her lower lip, scared to make a sound; in her head were just swarming profanities, too jumbled up to be sounded. The physician enjoys seeing the soldier at her mercy, she enjoys the large hand that tugs harshly at her roots too. The pinching pain making it all the more worthwhile. When her tongue feels tired, she sucks. When she's out of breath, she licks. Her methodical technique makes the soldier come undone within minutes, finishing with a muffled moan into her sweaty palm.

The physician takes in all that she is given, thirsty like a bitch in heat, except that bitch wasn't her.