"Yeah!" she cheers and does a little spin.I carry it to the kitchen and set us up each with a plate and a drink ofmilk. She sits at her little table. ... join her. We eat quietly. It'stasty. My recent humiliation steals my focus. I think of his leers. Mylegs. I rub my thighs together. I touch them lightly with my fingers. Itrace lightly on my hem. I think of his erection. I feel mine growingagain. I think of him seeing my outfit. Him seeing my panties. Iembarrassed. I'm aroused. I'm not sure what. A beautiful, doll-like woman lay spread-eagled on a floor of stone flags. Long black hair tumbled in waves around her cruelly lacerated corpse and she bore jagged, crimson holes in her hands, feet and chest.“Stigmata?” asked Dmitri, arching an eyebrow. “Those are real nail and spear wounds”. He pretended not to notice as Katya shifted uncomfortably. “The photograph is of a woman named Alexandra, Grigori’s wife. We crucified her last year; I decided that I had drawn all the pleasure I could from. More

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