Page 101 of Smut Lovers

Chapter Seven

The Mistress

T hump, thump… Thump, thump…

Ava’s heart pounded furiously, as the mistress pulled the wardrobe door open, exposing her hiding spot. They stood staring at each other for a moment before the mistress pointed at a garment on a hanger.

“Hand me that robe, will you?”

She bared her teeth as Ava handed her the sheer pink robe.

The mistress slipped into it and tied the ribbon belt around her tiny waist without breaking eye contact.

The robe hid nothing from view. If anything, it accentuated the swell of her breasts and the roundness of her ass, as the material clung to her curves.

Sensuality was a weapon that Ava hadn’t learned to wield, but it was clear the mistress had mastered it.

“It was brave of you to hide in my chambers, but incredibly stupid. I knew the moment you stepped into the room. Luckily for you, I had a different target to pursue.”

She wrapped her claws around Ava’s wrist and yanked her out of the wardrobe.

“Why?”

The mistress pressed her pillowy soft lips against Ava’s. The kiss lasted for a millisecond before she pulled Ava’s braid and bit her lip, causing it to swell and bleed. A salty, metallic taste flooded her mouth, as the mistress’s tongue rolled around hers.

“I knew you’d taste sweet.”

As she pulled away, she touched the corner of Ava’s bloody lip and showed her the red drop on her thumb before sucking it into her mouth.

Ava’s eyes dropped to the dead man’s body on the plush rug.

The danger hadn’t passed. She was one wrong move away from meeting her demise.

Yet it didn’t stop her nipples from pebbling, as the mistress brushed her clawed nails over her bare collar.

Her eyelids fluttered from the sensation, as a pleasant shiver ran down her spine.

The mistress grinned wickedly as her other hand slid over the seam of Ava’s leather pants, against her aching spot. Terror and pleasure mixed, creating a perfect cocktail of wanton desire. Her legs shook as she widened her stance in anticipation.

“Pick up the fire poker, Ava,” she whispered before sticking her tongue in Ava’s ear and sucking her earlobe into her mouth.

Ava hesitated, as her eyes focused on the poker handle sticking out from between burning logs.

“You have a job to do. The last one still alive come dawn wins. I want that to be you, pet,” she purred. “Now, pick it up.”

Taylor’s sobs broke the spell, breaking the tension. Ava now understood that she wasn’t playing the game, she was merely a piece.

“No,” Ava said firmly.

Not expecting her seduction to fail, the mistress hissed angrily, “Pick it up!”

Ava shook her head once more and remained rooted to her spot.

The mistress raised her finger and drew it across Taylor’s breast, making her scream, as a deep gash opened across the delicate tanned skin.

The woman touched the wound created by her nail, encouraging the blood to flow freely, coating her claw.

She sucked it into her mouth, like she had her thumb with Ava’s blood.

“Biology is a funny thing. A person’s chemical nature changes the very cells within their body, including blood. While yours tastes sweet, hers is bitter. I wonder why that is?”

She tapped her nails on her chin, as though contemplating this thought, as she ran her tongue along her teeth. Impatience seeped through her words.

“The meek won’t inherit the earth as The Bible promises. Those of us who act, while damning the consequences, are the ones who shall be fruitful and multiply. You see, Ava, women like us are predators. People like these are our prey.”

Taylor wept as the mistress cut her again. Blood rolled down her body and dripped onto the snow-white fur rug, staining it crimson.

“This can be your initiation, or the place of your death. Will you be a winner or loser?”

Ava ran her thumb over the scars that changed her life and glanced at the blooming lotus tattoo.

A familiar tingle began in her fingertips, as the handle of a bowie knife was pressed against her palm.

She closed her hand around it, judging its weight and balance, and watched the firelight reflect off the metal.

“Good girl, Ava. Why cut yourself, when it’s far more satisfying to claim your prize?” she whispered. “Your canvas awaits you.”

“Please don’t do this. Please. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Taylor’s sobs were weak, sounding far away, as though she were underwater. The mistress’s words were laced with dark promises, as she lured her forward like the serpent tempted Eve.

“Do it, Ava. Claim your first.”

A hand on the small of her back ushered her forward. The mistress guided Ava’s shaking hand, until the blade caused the skin on Taylor’s belly to pucker. They drew a diagonal slash from navel to hip together.

Animalistic instinct awakened within Ava, and she shook the mistress’s hand off her arm. She pressed her breasts against Ava’s back and kissed her neck, while slipping her hand into the tight waistband of Ava’s black pants.

“You’re soaked, little mouse,” she purred, as she stroked her throbbing core.

Ava lifted the blade and dragged it once more across Taylor’s soft belly.

“Mmm. Keep going, pet.”

With the encouragement of the mistress’s words and fingers, Ava stabbed the helpless girl in the gut. Pushing the weapon through tissue and muscle took more effort than she’d imagined.

“Now twist it slightly,” the mistress encouraged, as she circled Ava’s bundle of nerves.

Ava did and watched the blood spurt from Taylor’s wound. The girl’s screams were muffled, while Ava howled like a she-demon, as she wet her palms in the warm blood and touched her face, leaving streaks like war paint.

One particularly deep cut caused Taylor to exsanguinate.

Her last breaths were watery, as she coughed up blood and choked on it.

The mistress sucked blood from the wound and quickly yanked Ava’s head back, by the ponytail, and pressed her lips to hers.

As they kissed, Ava opened her mouth and accepted the gift of blood on her tongue.

The mistress pressed against Ava’s throbbing clit, as she squeezed her breast. Ava moaned into the woman’s mouth as she split apart.

“You were exquisite, pet.”

A chill filled Ava’s soul with darkness.

Her deepest fantasy, the one she only felt safe enough to whisper to Vince, under the shroud of midnight, had come to fruition.

She now knew how it felt to take a life, as she watched the light fade from Taylor’s eyes.

The woman’s tan skin was now a sickly gray and blood no longer seeped from her wounds.

Three down, two more to go.

“Go forth and happy hunting, little demoness.”