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This was first submitted as part of a novel-length story

On the pavement outside one of the workers’ cafés by the wharves Grigori leant back expansively in his iron bistro chair, raising a glass of raki to his full lips. He was enjoying the situation, relishing Katya’s nervousness as she visibly shrank into her seat before him, trembling deliciously.

“My family vault is unattended overnight” she said, handing him the key. “There will be no question of embalming and no need for an autopsy,” she went on “so my body will be washed and ready for you”.

“It could still go wrong,“ he grinned “you might still live”. She looked away, confused. Grigori took her hand in what an onlooker would have thought was a reassuring gesture. “Understand me.” he said in a quiet, commanding tone “It is all in hand. The escape should be a simple thing - will be a simple thing, unless you are betraying us”. Katya gripped Grigori’s hand and stared into his eyes.

“Then command me to prove myself” she begged, in a low voice.

“You have been filmed with the dogs” he replied “and that footage can be used for blackmail. Of course, it will be released when you are dead and your memory will be utterly defiled”. Her eyes widened and her tongue churned behind sharp, white teeth. “But we sent for you today to take you beyond that” he continued, chillingly. Katya lowered her eyes and her trembling fingers fell slowly away from his. He stood, put down a banknote to cover the bill, and headed across the road without a word.

She followed him along the towpath at a discrete distance and then through deserted streets at the edge of town to a district of condemned factories and warehouses, isolated behind barbed wire and warning notices. She lost sight of him for a moment, and then a light truck was driving through the empty roads towards her. As it drew alongside the tailgate lowered and Katya quickly climbed inside. She sat on a bench in the dark and empty interior while they drove over potholed roads for an hour.

When the van stopped, Grigori clambered into the back to blindfold her and led her through the warm sunlight for a few minutes and then into a building where he uncovered her eyes. She was in a deconsecrated chapel, part of some old religious institution or great landowner's estate. There was air conditioning and some of the furnishings were new, and out-of-place, such as the rack of torture implements. Waiting for her in the candlelight she recognised Grigori’s allies Andrei and Leon, her torturer. This was no more than she had anticipated throughout the sexual torment of her journey but she was genuinely shocked to see Dana amongst them, her slim, boyish figure more exposed than clothed by a white, Grecian chiton. Katya looked from man to man, unsure.

“Strip” Leon ordered. Grigori held up his hand when Katya was naked but for stockings and shoes. She was eager to display herself however they wished, but still ached to be told what was expected of her. Then Dana climbed onto the altar and spread her legs open, stretching her arms behind her head.

“Kill me” she said in her low, thrilling voice. Katya found herself drifting towards her young friend and student, and like an automaton accepted the long knife Leon handed her without ever taking her eyes from the pale, half-clad body. Standing at the altar she stroked the blade and sharp point with her fingertips, licked her lips and slowly lay herself down beside Dana, lazily reaching out to caress her short blonde hair.

“Kill you?” she whispered, gently gripping her chin to run the tip of the cold steel blade delicately across her white throat. Dana sighed. Brushing aside white cotton to circle the girl’s hard nipples with her fingertips, Katya licked her friend’s cheek and nibbled her ear. Their bodies smoothed together.

“I know you have dreamed of this” Katya breathed. Dana wrapped her leg around Katya’s and ground their hips together, stretching her head back to moan her pleasure aloud. Katya glanced over her shoulder at the men. They looked on impassively and she knew that they were challenging her without words, that she was expected to pass this test without any guidance. Seizing the hem of Dana’s tunic, she slashed it open, drew the edge of the knife across first Dana’s left breast then the right - just firmly enough to draw blood - and then ran it gently down her belly until it pricked at her pubic mound. When she licked tenderly at Dana’s throbbing nipples the younger woman moaned and her shaven cunt gaped moistly. Katya felt herself dripping too and put her mouth softly to Dana’s; their tongues met and she whimpered when the cold blade pricked at her pubes, starting crimson drops against her alabaster skin. She stroked Katya’s glossy brown hair and ran her fingers down her ribs and over her hips sighing and panting. Without breaking their kiss Katya traced the point of the blade along the contours of Dana’s slowly undulating body, from the collarbone down to her parted thighs and back again, scoring a pattern of shallow cuts into her firm young flesh. She drew her index finger delicately along the deeper cuts to gather the blood and smeared it around her lips. They kissed and moaned into each other’s mouths; Dana caressed Katya’s knife hand and entwined their legs even closer.

Katya pinched Dana's bleeding nipple hard and pulled at the flesh of her pert breast. She pushed the point of the knife into the taut, smooth skin and pierced it completely, pressing her loins close to Dana's the while, and licking the hot tears from the girl's high cheekbone. Her mouth trailed down the sweating throat and chest to lick with exquisite delicacy at the oozing wound in Dana's bosom then she nipped the other nipple in her white teeth and pulled slowly, but firmly. Again, she pierced the small breast completely. Dana groaned long and low, and her hands locked in Katya's hair and over her knife-hand, pressing her cruel mouth to the nipple and trapping the knife in her flesh. Her slender legs clamped even tighter around Katya's waist and thighs.

Katya held the knife between their lips and together they kissed and licked at the blade - then she lifted it high above her head. Dana’s eyes were unfocused and her lids drooped as she lay back on the altar, welcoming her bright steel lover. Her lips parted and she sighed.

“The Pallid Mask” she said, then both women screamed in wild ecstasy as Katya slammed the knife down into Dana’s heart. Her body strained violently upwards, froze rigid for a few moments while juices sprayed from her twitching cunt and then fell back lifeless. Katya took a long while to collect herself, gazing dreamily into Dana’s staring eyes, and then wrenched the knife from her ribcage with a wet sucking sound. Blood welled out of the wound and streamed over her flanks and flat stomach to pool around her. Katya turned the dead face to hers and kissed her victim’s open mouth deeply and lingeringly.

She looked around when Grigori laid a hand on her shoulder. The men held cleavers and knives and she noticed that they wore aprons and leather gloves. Katya stood aside and watched them close in on Dana’s corpse and set to work, slicing into the belly and pulling out handfuls of steaming entrails.

“Come” Grigori said, and he took her elbow to guide her away from the altar, towards the oaken door that led from the chapel. In a daze, she went content and unquestioning.
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