Katarina Gordislava
Aug 24th, 2006, 01:33:24 PM
"Lie still," Katarina snapped, and the kine on the floor complied. Miss Martin was lying on a black sheet, a glassy look in her blue eyes. She was not posed to give her naked body any semblence of modesty, and there were several darkened bruises visible on her skin as well as the stripes of a whip on her right arm.
Kneeling to the left of the kine, the Archbishop bit down just above the girl's breast, tasting the sweet red nectar that flowed from the wound. She withdrew after a taste, however, leaving the mark to bleed onto Sansa's skin.
"That should do."
Ivan snapped the Polaroid, and then took another, a close up of the kine's face.
He handed them to Katarina with gloved hands, and she pulled on her own gloves before taking them from him. Impatiently she shook the images to make them develop faster. Ah yes. They were suitably amaturish, but a Tory would be sure to find the beauty in the art.
She delicately dipped one gloved finger in Sansa's blood and smeared a bit on the Polaroids where a caption was supposed to be written. Then they were wrapped in a clean white handkerchief that could be bought anywhere and put into a padded mailing envelope.
The Archbishop sealed it up and had Ivan address it to Gabriel Rodermark's apartment. Ivan had perfect penmanship, unlike so many mortal males. She felt like laughing, picturing the look on the Prince's face when he opened it.
The envelope was passed to Sheila, who was traveling through the tunnel to Paris where she would mail the letter. In a few moments her plan was in motion, and Katarina returned to the kine's side to finish her little snack.
Kneeling to the left of the kine, the Archbishop bit down just above the girl's breast, tasting the sweet red nectar that flowed from the wound. She withdrew after a taste, however, leaving the mark to bleed onto Sansa's skin.
"That should do."
Ivan snapped the Polaroid, and then took another, a close up of the kine's face.
He handed them to Katarina with gloved hands, and she pulled on her own gloves before taking them from him. Impatiently she shook the images to make them develop faster. Ah yes. They were suitably amaturish, but a Tory would be sure to find the beauty in the art.
She delicately dipped one gloved finger in Sansa's blood and smeared a bit on the Polaroids where a caption was supposed to be written. Then they were wrapped in a clean white handkerchief that could be bought anywhere and put into a padded mailing envelope.
The Archbishop sealed it up and had Ivan address it to Gabriel Rodermark's apartment. Ivan had perfect penmanship, unlike so many mortal males. She felt like laughing, picturing the look on the Prince's face when he opened it.
The envelope was passed to Sheila, who was traveling through the tunnel to Paris where she would mail the letter. In a few moments her plan was in motion, and Katarina returned to the kine's side to finish her little snack.