A/N: I DO NOT own any part of Inglourious Basterds.

Absolut

"Hey, I need to talk to you!"

I looked up as Axelle entered my room, closing the door behind her. Clad in only her underclothes, she bounded across my room the grabbed a tube of lipstick, bringing it to me and spreading it across my lips.

"What are you doing?" I asked, throwing down my book as she assaulted me with the cosmetic product. Tossing it aside haphazardly, she sprinted across my room to the vanity mirror and gathered several things, bounding back over to me and spilling them all over my bed.

"Axelle what are you doing?!" I exclaimed as the things I had worked so hard to keep meticulously organized were scattered across my bed without apology, with Axelle forcing the paint onto my face. Beneath her dainty hands, I sat frustrated and confused.

"Close your eyes." She demanded, and I grasped her slender wrist, gripping the pale flesh and thin bone tightly as I stilled her hand.

"What. Are. You. Doing?" I repeated slowly, and she muttered something in German then slapped my hand away, returning to my eyebrows.

"500 francs. That is what you could make tonight if you come work with me."

"Wait, wait?"

"He wants two girls together and is willing to pay 1,000 francs for it. I am willing to split it with you, and that's even after taking out Bathilda's cut. Now come, we must get you ready."

Instead of arguing I let her dab me in makeup, the promise of fortune ringing in my ears. 500 francs, I had yet to even make that much on my own in an evening. It was only Axelle who had the ability to pry money from the richest clients, promising and giving them things that us girls knew not of, and it was now that I understood why she was the most successful girl in the brothel. She was willing to do anything she had to, but more than that, she was happy to do it as well.

"Here, wear this." She said, throwing open my closet and digging through several items of clothing before grabbing something and tossing it at me. Handling the wrinkled scrap of fabric, I found myself grabbing a sheer brassiere and matching panties. Shedding my clothes quickly I slid them on as Axelle doctored up my hair. It was supposed to be my night off, but the siren call of 500 francs was just too much to ignore.

After the passage of seven minutes, I found myself being dragged down the hall by the hand, Axelle's blonde hair flying behind her before we made our way to the end of the hall. Throwing open the door she posed beside it, putting an arm around my waist.

"How is this?" she asked in German, and I glanced over at her client, a handsome Austrian man who looked like an ordinary civilian, something I would investigate further.

"This….this will do."

I wiped the tears from my eyes, sniffling lightly as a salty mixture of mucus and tears dripped from my nose and moved along the line of my top lip. Closing my burning eyes, I blinked, laying on my back as I tried to stop the heavy drops from escaping my eyelids, the heavy drops that mourned the loss of a girl who had been the only friend I ever really had.

It was overwhelming really, all that had happened, and it bore down upon me like a mighty mountain on my chest peak rising with each step I took. It weighed down on me, crushing my very essence and threatening to fall down at any moment, burying me under its massive form with no means of escape.

Over the course of one night, the things I had come to know, the life I was still adjusting to had been changed drastically and suddenly, erasing all sense of normalcy and balance I had come to terms with (well, as much normalcy as could exist in the life of an adolescent prostitute).

After all I had been through in life, I tried to convince myself that I was strong, but no amount of mirror-chanting mantras and biting my lip to hold back tears could stop the resonating pain, pain that came around much too often for my liking. So long as I was occupied, I found my mind focused solely on the task at hand, whether that be sitting before the erect manhood of a man and preparing to take him in my mouth, or seeing what information I could pry out of an indisposed soldier. During the hectic mess of my life I went with it all, living in the moment, but it was the quiet times that were often the loudest, those moments when I was confronted with the reality of my life up to this point.

Anything that had offered me comfort in my life had been lost. My mother, the one person who was supposed to be my rock and shelter had long forsaken me even before her death, my father the same, offering a smile and goodbye when I needed a tender word and encouragement.

And now, the only friend I had ever really known. There was something about our relationship that made me feel closer to her than anyone else, and not just our physical intimacy, although to be honest, it was something I certainly do not like to forget. In a world where offering pleasure was our job and nothing else, Axelle found a way to make the best of it, reminding me on a daily basis that we were more than objects, we were real women who conquered men in a way that many couldn't. And what we shared with each other…it was simple special, I had no other words to describe it.

Her smile, shining brightly like the sun and her eyes, that sparkled like gems, always alight with happiness, never dimming. Even in the cruelty of the world, she never faltered in her beauty, even in death. What haunted me the most was the way her eyes simply dulled, the light behind them extinguished as though she was gone forever.

And she was, she really was, and that was something that I was faced with. Axelle was gone, the girl I had lived and breathed with for months. The girl I had given my body to, and learned so much from. Our relationship went full-circle from friends to lovers, in a way that felt more right than wrong, for the connection it produced, a deep connection that was now severed by the pull of a trigger.

A knock on the door pulled me from my sorrow and I sat up, ears pricking like a terrier at the series of sharp raps. Wiping my eyes, I stood up, clearing my red face of tears then leaning my body against the solid brown door, pressing an ear to the side.

"Who is it?" I breathed, my vision still blurry from the remaining tears that continued to build.

"It's Donny." A voice replied, and I hesitated for a second, wondering if I should even bother letting him in, but a break from the pain was exactly what I needed.

No, what I needed was to have a man's arms around me, I needed to give in to my unhealthy compulsion for sexual activity that dominated just about everything I did, helping wrestle my emotions and curb reality in a way that I knew wasn't safe, but made me feel good, if only for a moment.

I had gotten a small glimpse of what Donny was made of last night, and had every intention of my fantasies coming alive. I needed to forget the hurt and the carnage, and Donny could be just the guy to do that for me.

Swallowing, I threw the door open, trying to make it look as though I had not been crying although the signs were written all over my inflamed face. Letting an arm rest on the doorframe, I leaned over, clad in only a bra and a pair of pants that graced my figure, clinging to my stomach firmly and hugging my body like a second skin.

"Hi." I said, gazing at his muscular frame and sticking out my chest. Much to my surprise, he averted my gaze, face heating slightly as he found me half-nude and careless about it.

"Sorry, you want me to give you a minute?" he asked, turning his head so that he faced the hall and I chuckled softly, crossing my arms over my exposed chest.

"No, I'm fine. Need something? You can look at me you know, I don't mind." I cocked my head to the side and bit my lip, toying with him as he dared to look at me, obviously trying in vain not to let his eyes stray south of my face.

"Actually I wondered if you just wanted to talk, I got this." He held up a hand, clad with a glass bottle full of clear liquid. Taking a step back I opened my arms and motioned for him to come into the room. Quickly, I padded across the chamber then sat on my bed, bouncing on the springy mattress then curling my legs beneath my body.

Donny remained where he stood, hesitantly then entered my room, closing the door behind him and walking over ever so slowly and uncomfortably.

"Uh, maybe you can put on a shirt or something?" he spoke to the air and I stood up, storming across the room deliberately before grabbing a man's shirt off the floor. Nonchalantly, I reached back and unhooked my bra, sliding it off them unzipped my pants and did the same. Turning around, I put the shirt on ever so slowly as I stepped out of my pants, feeling Donny's eyes on my bare breasts.

Ever so slowly, I buttoned the shirt then bounded across the room and sat in my bed, stretching out my exposed legs and glancing at Donny who sat on the edge of the bed stiff as a board.

"Come on." I patted the spot next to me, and he scooted over slightly then cleared his throat, holding up the bottle.

"Thought I'd come in and have a talk with the newest member of The Basterds. You're official." He said finally, seeming to grow more comfortably now that I was somewhat clothed and I raised my eyebrows, glancing down at the bottle.

"What's that?" I asked.

"It's called Absolut. Turns out the Swedes make a mean vodka. I thought that we could have it in celebration."

"Hm." I mused, grasping the bottle from his strong hands and examining the foreign label. Looking down at it, I untwisted the cap, bringing the bottle to my lips and taking the swig. As the fiery liquid burned down my throat I closed my eyes, warmth blossoming in my belly and bringing me to a state of complete relaxation.

Easing into the bed I handed over the bottle, then turned onto my side, upper body propped on a pillow. As I did so, I continued to study Donny intently, taking in his features which were charmingly handsome.

"So, how are you doing with this all? I know it's a lot to handle…and then your friend."

The comment brought back the still-fresh wounds and I swallowed as my emotions threatened to crest over once again, breaking the levies and spilling out of me before I could control them. No, I could not let my emotion control me. Axelle would not want tears and sadness, she would want me to remain strong and keep going on with my life, the same as she would have done.

I just needed it all to go away, not the loss of my friend but all the shit happening around us. I needed it to disappear so that I could live in a place where I simply existed and that was all, I needed to feel Donny's body on top of mine, rocking inside of me and bringing me to a release that would blast away all my problems, if only for a short while.

I needed him, so much that he did not even know, so much that I was dependent on a man I barely knew, dependent on his manhood to make me feel whole.

Whole. That was what Axelle made me feel, for the first time in my insignificant and massively sinful life. She made me feel whole. I knew I was trash. I had slept with man after man, even some women, all for the sake of filling an emotional void, I was nothing but a whore, but she made me feel as though I had some worth, as though I was a human being, and that was something I relished.

It wasn't a delusion or self-denial, it was truth. Deep down, I had good attributes that spoke for me as a person, rather than my actions. That was something I had never been told before, not by the two people who were supposed to love me, not by anyone, and so here I was now, addicted to the feeling that sexual pleasure gave me, the feeling of purpose, of being complete, of being someone more than the prostitute who spread her legs at the slightest inclination.

Ironic that sex gave me such a feeling, considering it was the exact act which had given me the label of slut. I was a slave to pleasure, a slave to men, and a slave to my own inability to feel whole without a man.

"You know, we never really did get to finish at the brothel, and I have to admit, I was looking forward to spending some time with you." I grinned, reaching over and letting a hand land on Donny's chest lightly. As I did so, he glanced down at the appendage and swallowed, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Oh…well…" he breathed and I sat up, making my way over to him on the bed then unbuttoned me shirt and pulled it back just so one of my breasts was exposed. Immediately, Donny's eyes flitted towards my chest and aware, a dark flush creeping under his skin. Humming in content I ran a hand over my nipple as it began to harden in excitement, and toyed with myself for a moment.

"I've been thinking about it a lot you know. What it would have been like. Have you thought about it?" I raised my eyebrow and Donny glanced at me again, sitting up tensely.

"I've just been imagining everything you would do to me with that huge cock of yours. It gets me wet just thinking about it, I might have to touch myself a little." I growled, making a move to stick my hand down my panties but suddenly Donny reached out and clasped a hand over my wrist tightly, locking me in my place.

"Can't we just talk? We don't have to…you know." He said in a strained voice and I studied his face carefully. He looked conflicted, and I wonder what could possibly be the problem. Didn't all men want sex? It was just sex, what was there to be opposed to? Was it me? Was something wrong with me?

"What? Is there something wrong with me?" I furrowed my brow, slightly hurt by his rejection. At this, he looked up sharply, brown eyes moving back and forth as he stared me right in the face.

"Jesus, no it's just…I don't know I want to be friends with you, that's all. We don't have to have sex. That's not what I came here for, I hope you don't think that I did."

"So you don't want to have sex with me? We can still be friends it's just sex Donny." I sat up on my knees and moved in to kiss him but he stopped me again, this time putting a hand on my lips and pushing me back gently, pressing his lips together.

"Look, I'm not big on the whole meaningless sex thing alright. I'm not even sure if I would have felt alright had we actually done it last night, I think sex should be between two people who care about each other at least, and besides that, I value you more than that. Why don't we just sit here and talk?"

Huh. Interesting. This was a man who had struck me as the drugstore cowboy type, going through girls and breaking hearts on a daily basis however it seemed I was wrong. I couldn't tell if he was being sincere and trying to show me respect, or if he was too kind to admit that he was repulsed by me, however the gesture of either was the most any man had given me in a long time, and I smiled, sitting back on my pillow and buttoning my shirt.

"So what do you want to talk about?" I asked, and he smiled this time, pink lips parting to reveal a boyish grin that made my heart flutter the slightest bit. He reminded me so much of a high-school crush, it was funny really.

"Well….tell me about yourself. You said you were from Brooklyn?"

"Yeah, I was born there. I've lived there all my life actually, what about you?"

"Boston. We've moved around a little bit but it's always been in the same area. So, how did Brooklyn turn into Paris? That's kind of a hop, skip, and a jump away."

"Some stuff happened back home. First my mom died, and my dad was never really…around. Well, he was around, but he was always working. In some ways, it was worse than having a father who had run off because when a man ditches his family, they don't have to hope that he'll show them love each day. It means he can accept the fact that he's a deadbeat and wants nothing to do with them, instead of hiding behind paperwork and a fancy office. I never really got much in terms of emotional support from either of my parents, I suppose it's the way I am now."

"The way you are?"

"A whore. Since I was younger I've kind of used sex as a way to feel better about myself and less lonely. Something about being that close with a person just makes you feel so connected to the world, so close to them even if you don't know their name."

"Wow. That's pretty heavy stuff for a 17-year-old girl."

"We're in a war. There's people younger than me who have seen and been through worse. I think I got the easy end of the stick. My only problem is that I need to have sex with people and I was emotionally neglected. Other kids have seen their parents blasted to smithereens or have been running around in the death camps. My generation are teens who have experienced things most adults couldn't even imagine. How old are you? You make it seem as though you're so much older than me but I know you can't be."

"I'm 26, and yeah, you're still pretty young."

"By 10 years!"

"What, that's not a lot to you?"

"Coming from a girl who has had sex with men well into their 80's, no, it's not really anything to me. Besides, I've always believed that age is just a number. I can tell you I may have only been here for 17 years but it feels like 37."

"I'm sorry, did you just say you've been with guys in their 80's? Jesus, that's sick."

"Is it? Tell me something Donny, do I look 17 to you?"

He regarded me for a moment then sighed.

"No, but you don't look 70 either."

"It surprises me that age has become such a big deal in our culture now when just a hundred years ago girls were getting married younger than me. Still are."

"Yeah I just…I don't know, it's weird to me. Creepy. I mean what can a man that age want with a girl your age?"

"Companionship. The same thing we all want. The need doesn't go away with age. I've got guys that come in whose wives have died. They just want someone to spend time with, it's a dire human need really. An infant will die without physical affection. We simply cannot do without it."

"God you talk like a grown woman."

"I am a grown woman."

With that, Donny remained silent for a long moment and I rolled over on my belly, flexing my feet and kicking my legs in the air. As I did so, Donny's gaze shifted momentarily and he swallowed once more, this time in a pronounced manner that spoke of evident discomfort. Grabbing the bottle of vodka he had brought, he screwed the cap on the shifted, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

"Well, I should probably be getting to bed, you too. You've got a busy day tomorrow." He muttered to the ground and I studied him carefully. It was as though he was ashamed to look at me, like he thought he shouldn't be.

"A busy day? And what will I be doing?" I raised my eyebrows, unintentionally making the sentence more sensual than it should have been.

"Uh, just some stuff. I'm headed off the bed, good night." He finished, brown eyes meeting mine for the slightest second before he threw open my door and closed it behind him.

Resting on my stomach, I growled in frustration, my body physically crying out for male attention. Not only that, but my conversation with him had left me feeling…something I could not quite put my finger on, but to sum it up in essence, I wished he was still here. Talking to him was nice, even if it was something I wasn't particularly keen on discussing such as my age.

Donny. Hm.


I laid on my back, staring down at my hard-on miserably as I tried to force my erection down, unable to keep my mind off of Annabelle.

Damn her, she had done it on purpose, and she knew it. I hadn't felt this out of control since getting my first erection in the eighth grade after my then-girlfriend kissed me on the cheek. It was just as horrifying now as it was then too, this time for the sole reason that it was what Annabelle had wanted, and it showed that I had absolutely no control over my body.

I tried to think of anything in the world but I couldn't get my mind of her body, that fantastic body. Those breasts, so soft, so round and huge, and her nipples. I wanted to bend down and suck on them so roughly that she tangled her fingers in my hair. I wanted to play with them on my tongue and squeeze her breasts, feeling how soft they were against my face.

"Fuck!" I exclaimed as I throbbed, my dick speaking on its own accord. No matter how much it bothered me, no matter how much I tried not to think about it, she was just so sexy, and she wanted me. She wanted me!

And I had turned her down like the sap I was, insisting that we just "talk". I just had to be a proper gentleman, instead of taking her heavy cues and plowing her like I wanted to.

She said she had been thinking about last night and the truth was, I had been too. When she took off her dress, I got to see the heaven that lay beneath, the luscious curves that somehow adorned her frame even with a flat stomach and slender arms and thighs. She looked so delicious under the light, skin glowing and of course I couldn't forget the way her pussy looked, just ready to be taken.

Again, my thoughts were met with painful throbbing and I wrapped a hand around myself, trying to alleviate the building arousal that refused to abate. Gasping, I stroked myself, pumping my hand up and down as I imagined running my hands all over Annabelle's body and burying my cock in between her folds. God, she would be wet, she said that she was, and I couldn't even imagine how tight she must be.

Laying on my back I played with myself, and I wanted to feel her hand. I wanted her to stroke me, I wanted her mouth on my dick. I had felt her hand last night, briefly, so warm and soft. Warm, she would've been warm, her entire body. Especially her dripping wet cunt.

"Cunt." I had never even muttered such a word aloud and here I was thinking about it, wondering how hers felt. Would she scream underneath me? Her cries would likely be throaty like her husky voice, so damn sexy. And she didn't have any pubic hair. I'd never been with a girl who shaved down there before, I always found it a little weird, but now I could see the appeal. I could just imagine sitting between her legs and observing the way her clitoris rested above her entrance, wet and begging for my tongue to oblige her.

My tongue. How did she taste? I'd never pleased a girl with my mouth before either, but just the thought now was so tantalizing. What would it feel like for her to tense around me? What sounds would she make when I plowed into her tight hole with my tongue, over and over again.

"Shit." I muttered, bucking as my pleasure mounted into a massive high, my muscles tensing as semen spurted out of me, dripping down onto the sheets and my stomach.

Panting, I stared up at the ceiling in disbelief of what I had just done, my body limp. It was as I lay there though, trying to recuperate that my ears caught the sounds of moaning next door, a beautiful mewing sound that could belong to only one person.

It sounded like she was alone, and I could hear no one else, even as I listened intently to each and every groan.


"Oh….yes…..yes…." I moaned through my teeth, biting my lip as I bowed my head, my fingers working wildly as I rubbed my clit quickly, my toes curling.

Resting on my knees, head plowed into the pillow, I took my other hand and let my index and middle finger move in and out of myself, moving my hips that that I ground my fingers deeper each and every time, my entire body alive and writhing with pleasure.

What I would have done to have Donny behind me, slamming into me from behind while he toyed with my clit and played with my pussy. I had seen him erect, eight inches long with a pronounced width that looked almost painful. He was huge, the biggest I had ever seen in fact, and he had outright refused to fuck me.

I was aching for a man, and I was in a house full of them, my moans growing louder and louder until they echoed off the walls, each cry getting higher and higher as I neared my climax.

I wanted Donny inside of me, pounding away so that I was caught in a mixture of savage pain and blissful pleasure, and I imagined it, thrusting my hips and moaning his name softly as I continued to masturbate aggressively, my moans culminating into a final inhale, my breath escaping as my entire body clenched. Arching my back, I cried out as I rode my orgasm, reaching a hand back and raking my nails against my ass.

Then, it was over, and I collapsed onto the bed, breathing hard as I buried my face in the pillow and clenched my legs together tightly, wondering what dreams I might have tonight.


I walked into the living room, immediately aware of the attention cast on me and me only as the room suddenly grew quiet, the chorus of laughter and chatter muted by my presence. Looking around at my counterparts, I stood in the center of the living room, watching as they all sat with grins on their faces and expressions that told me I had just been the topic of conversation.

"You know, acquiring that bottle of Absolut was no easy task, I thoroughly hope you enjoyed it." Archie said from the corner and I spun around to face him just as the room erupted into laughter, that sent a bout of irritation through me. So I had shared a drink with Annabelle, so what? Even if my intentions had been to have sex, what did it matter?

"So…was she good?" Omar asked, and I threw a sharp glare at him that was only met by more laughter so infuriating that I simply stormed out of the room, following by Omar who had no idea just when to quit. The howls and cackles followed me as I opened the icebox and retrieved a bottle of milk, opening it up and taking a long drink.

Last night, Annabelle and I had engaged in a sort of game, where we each took turns masturbating and listening to the other through the wall. On my behalf, my participation was involuntary as every time my body recovered and I heard her, I started getting hard again. I had to admit, it was fun though, and by the time I went to sleep, my eyes simply closed and my body shut down instead of me laying awake for hours on end as I usually did.

"You know, you could hear her on the entire second floor last night. I can't wait to get a piece of that, I would've picked her last night but I wanted her with her friend. You've got to tell me, was she amazing?"

"How would I know?" I growled in agitation, slamming the icebox shut the looking down at Omar.

"What? You mean…you didn't have sex with her?" he asked incredulously, then his face lit up. Running into the next room I heard him scream "guys, he didn't even do her!" and curled my hands into fists, wanting to do nothing more than take his brown head and place it between the floor and my boot.

"Looks like I picked a mighty-fine group of soldiers. Big Adolf is out there killing children and innocent people while you fuckers are in here gossiping like a group of spring chickens."

As Aldo's voice rang out everything fell silent, and he entered the kitchen, following by the rest of the men who looked down at the ground, not daring the express the slightest bit of humor after being reprimanded.

Lighting a cigar, Aldo pulled out a chair at the small kitchen table the sat down, nodding at me. I nodded back, then looked up at the crowd of guys who for the most part had the decency to look ashamed, awkwardly avoiding my gaze like petty child thieves who had just been caught red-handed.

"We've got some work to do men. Now I'm hearing a lot of talk about our newest member, where is she?"

"I'm right here."

Annabelle's voice rang out somewhere in the crowd and every single head turned around, watching as she parted the massive group of rowdy men, each and every eye focused on her from head to toe. As she passed, some of the guys dared to elbow each other, eyes flitting to her backside while others simply observed in quiet, their thoughts obvious.

She was in more than her underthings this time, thank goodness clad in a shirt that she wore tucked into tight pants, belted to enhance her hourglass figure. When she turned around, even my eyes focused in on her round and plump behind, outlined by her tight pants. It was really a thing of beauty, just like the rest of her.

"Well good morning, did you sleep well?" Aldo asked and Annabelle leaned against the kitchen counter, her eyes never looking at me even as sniggers broke out among the men.

"I slept absolutely wonderful."

"Well good to know, because I've got a job for you tonight. There's an S.S. officer by the name of Markus van Harnishfeger, and he and a few buddies will be attending a little party tonight. Now these particular fuckers are known for roughing up people, got an unchecked sadistic streak that they get away with. Now Ms. Steinschneider, your….skills, shall we call them…..are going to be required."

"You want me to seduce them." She nodded, pursing her full lips and saying the words Aldo seemed afraid to.

"Something like that. You and Donny here are going to get all dressed up and head over to the bar, posing as a married couple. You need to get Harnishfeger upstairs anyway you can, and get rid of him. I suppose you can do that?"

"You supposed right." She responded, cocking her eyebrow and I suddenly realized that Aldo was pimping her out.

"Wait, you want her to have sex with this guy?" I asked and he turned to me, exhaling a plume of smoke.

"Not necessarily."

"Aldo you can't-" I began but Annabelle cut me off much to my surprise, crossing her arms over that wonderful chest and facing Aldo.

"Is he the only one we're taking out?"

"No, see this party is a bit of an opportunity. While you're up there, Donny, Archie and me will be taking care of the rest of those clowns. Now you're gonna get a 45 minute window, from the time you walk in that place."

"Why? What happens in 45 minutes?" I asked this time as Annabelle opened her mouth to do the same thing.

"Up in flames. We're going to blow the joint with dynamite, so if you're not out after 45 minutes, you're not getting out. You got that?"

Annabelle nodded however I immediately sought to voice my protests. This was simply too dangerous for her first mission, there was always something that went wrong and what if she got stumped somewhere along the way? She would just be blown to smithereens?

"What about clothes? I didn't get to grab anything from the brothel obviously." Annabelle, and Aldo clapped a hand on my arm, tearing me from my thoughts.

"Donny here is going to take you shopping. Nice trip into the city for you two, I'm sure he won't mind. You two can have some fun."

So, Aldo was in on this too I realized as he grinned and laughter built up. Looking up at Annabelle I noticed a smirk playing on her face.

"I think Donny and I could have some fun." She said an all eyes were turned on me, whistles and hollers accompanying her statement.

This girl was going to be more trouble than I thought.