BREAD

Tasia was running late for the breadline (again). Her empty stomach grumbled over the sound of her coat shuffling over her thin, tiny frame as she ran. She rounded the last corner, her little heart beating as fast as it could, but it was too late – the breadline stretched ahead at least three blocks. Even if there had been a surplus, at that hour and with that many left in line her hopes of getting anything to eat were slim to none. Her stomach growled again and she pressed her hands against it, trying to quell her hunger pains.

“You sound hungry.”

His coat and pants looked new and well-kept, unsullied by the years of wear and filth that made her tattered hand-me-downs stand out all the more. He was tall, at least half a meter over her, and his face – not fat, but healthy, with kind-looking brown eyes – not the gaunt, tired faces of the boys she knew.

From beneath his coat, he produced a small sweet bun, and offered it to her. She snatched it out of his hands and gobbled it down, savoring each tiny bite. She’d been living hand-to-mouth or worse for months now, weeks since the last time she’d had a decent meal, and couldn’t remember the last time she’d had something that rich. Before she even realized it, she’d swallowed the last bite and the bun was gone.

“Slow down, not so fast, there’s more where that came from.”

‘More’? It was a word she knew, but rarely used. More was something that people like her didn’t have. A tiny voice in the back of her head spoke words of caution, but Tasia nodded her head all the same and took the stranger’s hand.




They walked for a while, towards a nicer part of the city. The streets were clear of filth, the apartments, not so run down. It was not the glamour of the wealthy cities of Europe and America she had seen in her picture books as a child, but it was as well-to-do as she could imagine a place being in her homeland. He led her into one of the apartments and up the stairs. His home seemed glamorous to her. A living room furnished with comfortable chairs and couches, and big open windows, and what looked like a bedroom in the next room, and a kitchen; not like the poor excuse in her tiny panelak unit – a single, barely-working gas range which she couldn’t afford to light and never had enough food to warrant using, but a proper kitchen with an oven, a cooler, and a pantry. He invited her to sit down and went to work on something in the kitchen. She laid on the couch and stared out the windows, looking out over the city as the sun set behind the bloks in the distance.

Tasia’s mind wandered for a time as she relaxed, until a familiar and tantalizing smell snapped her back to full attention: BREAD!

The sweet, wholesome, wonderful smell of warm, fresh bread right out of the oven! The scent was practically overwhelming. She turned to the kitchen as the stranger pulled a large loaf of bread out of the oven and set it on a plate to cool. It was twilight now, and the gas lights outside began to flicker on outside the window. Between the lights and a few candles on the kitchen counter she could make out the outline of the bread – a great round loaf almost as wide as her face. Tasia started licking her lips in anticipation as he brought the bread out and set it on the table in front of her. She was just about to pounce on it when he sat down beside her and spoke.

“Take off your clothes.”




A cold shiver ran down her spine and she stopped dead. Suddenly everything was so clear. She couldn’t believe she’d let herself be led on that way. She knew exactly what he was offering and what he expected in return. She jumped to her feet and looked towards the window, desperate to hide her embarrassment. How could she have been so stupid? There was no such thing as a free meal; everything comes at a cost – money, labor… dignity. She hadn’t done anything yet, she could still walk away and forget everything, all she had to do was turn to the door and leave. She inhaled, and the delicious smell overwhelmed her all over again. Her knees trembled, her stomach growled, and it was all she could do to stop herself from drooling. She gulped and turned around.

Her back to the lights outside, Tasia stripped, slowly but with little hesitation. She threw her coat and blouse on the sofa, leaving an arm in front of her tits. Her little ribs stuck out a bit through her thin, famished frame. She swallowed her pride and let the arm drop, a cool draft brushed against her breasts and her nipples stood up. She stopped, hoping it might be enough that they could both satisfy their appetites, but he motioned for her to continue. She inhaled again, hoping for the smell of bread to grant her the confidence to keep going. She stripped off her pants and panties, and stood – fully bare – in front of him. He stood up and grabbed the plate, and walked towards the bedroom. Tasia followed, obediently. He gestured to the large bed in the middle of the room.

“Lie down.”

She complied. She’d gone this far for a loaf of bread – there was no point in feigning any sense of dignity anymore, hunger had won out the moment she decided to stay.

She was no virgin, she’d been with a few boys from her neighborhood before – comfort was one of the few things they could give her. But this was a man – large and healthy, he held her and filled her in a way none of them ever had. He wasn’t rough or violent with her as she’d feared, and she even caught herself starting to enjoy it as he thrust gently into her. She was too ashamed of herself to look him in the eyes, and instead stared across the room at the loaf of warm bread sitting on the dresser. Before long he started to quicken his pace and her body started to tense up as a wave of pleasure rolled over her. She let out a faint moan as he pressed into her and came.

He rolled off of her and laid on the bed, catching his breath. She stayed there, recovering for a few moments before she got up and walked over to the dresser. She stood stared at the loaf of bread in front of her, face twinging with disgust as she felt the warm trail of his seed running out of her and down her leg. As she picked it up and went to take a bite, all she could think about was how she’d sold herself for it, her body and her dignity. Her teeth sunk into the soft, still-warm bread and instantly every one of those thoughts vanished. It was delicious – the hot, wholesome taste made her whole body shudder. She continued to tear into it until almost half the loaf was gone, when she suddenly felt a cold draft coming in from the living room. She shivered and looked over to the bed. He lay there, half covered, drifting off to sleep. She crawled into bed and curled up next to him, finishing off the loaf of bread, a few stray crumbs landing on her chest and stomach. She laid awake for a while, resting on his warm chest, his large, strong arm wrapped around her naked body, and for the first time in as long as she could remember, Tasia didn’t go to sleep hungry.




Three weeks later, Tasia has stopped going to the breadline altogether – she spends her private moments at work daydreaming of bread and buns and sweet-rolls, and playing with herself as she thinks of all the things she’d do to him for them. She walks across town, her stomach growling from skipping lunch at work. As she walks up the stairs to his apartment, she catches the scent of rolls baking, wafting down the stairwell. By the time she reaches the top of the stairs her panties are soaked through and she struggles to make her way to the door. She rushes in and slams the door behind her, and it’s all she can do to restrain herself from tearing off her clothes in the entryway. She turns the corner and sees him pull a tray of rolls out of the oven. She shudders and little wet streams run down the inside of her thighs as she pulls at her clothes. He puts the rolls on a plate and walks them out into the living room, and like a little whore she follows him willingly. He sets the plate down and motions for her to dig in.

There’s no hesitation, no feigned elegance of manners or dignity. Tasia pounces on the rolls, devouring them with glee. Behind her, she hears him unbuckle his belt and as if on cue she immediately pulls down her pants and panties. She lets them drop around her ankles and raises her ass into the air. He doesn’t need to tell her what to do anymore, there’s no need. Like one of Pavlov’s dogs, the moment the warm bread touches her lips, her mouth and pussy drool – she knows what he expects and now almost revels in doing it. She waves her ass back and forth, her pussy pulsing with anticipation. She moans as she enjoys another roll and then moans again as his thick member pushes its way inside her. Her hips thrust back against him and she struggles to keep her balance against the table with one hand while she reaches for another roll with the other. Her knees and arms buckle as an orgasm rolls over her and she falls over with her tits and cheek pressed against the tabletop. She looks across the table at the last roll, rocking back and forth as he pounds her again and again. She starts to reach for it, he grabs both her arms and pulls them behind her, quickening his pace. Her eyes roll back and another orgasm washes over her as he cums inside her.

This is her life now, this is what she wants, what she hungers for.