His fingers caressed her chin, and slid down her throat as his thumb pushed deeper, slurring and stifling her panting voice even further. From his smile it was obvious the stranger enjoyed tormenting Viola with the memory of her recent humiliation. His thumb probed the roof of her mouth and the soft bed of her tongue as his hand closed her lips around it, silencing her.<br/><br/>"Suck," he demanded, beginning to thrust his hand. His voice, the feeling of his palm tapping against her chin, and his bulging knuckle dragging along her tongue were hypnotic, forcing her to remember how those bandits made use of her mouth. At first it was for revenge, to defile those lips that spoke her deadly power words and burned their compatriots alive.<br/><br/>The stranger probably suspected as much, and knew there was nothing special - nothing worth keeping - about a girl who just served as some idle hole. He was looking for something else, something he suspected came after the first few bandits blew their loads down her throat, when anger and revenge turned to hazy, trance-like pleasure - especially for Viola.<br/><br/>The slaver finally worked up the nerve to tap the man's huge shoulder, but before he could even say a word he drew back and stifled a small yelp from the way he was glared at. "Leave us," said the stranger. "I have a decision to make. In a moment you'll be very rich or very dead."