Page 11 of Violent Love: Viktor
Chapter 5
Viktor
I stood and looked down at Petrov’s face. It was a bloody, beautiful mess. The Pakhan had sliced off his lips, leaving his bare teeth exposed. The doctor was now working on peeling the skin from his neck.
“Damn, I needed this,” the Pakhan said, slowly rotating his neck.“Your pet didn’t last very long.”
When I glanced at Natalya, her legs had buckled. She hung limp over the hand trolley, unconscious or close to it. A small pool of vomit glistened on the floor beneath her—thin, acidic, and long settled.
I shrugged and looked back at the flayed cock, deciding this was far more satisfying than a strategically placed bullet. Watching people slowly bleed out had its charm. But Petrov? He deserved all of it—every moment.
“How long can he live, doctor?” I asked.
“A few days. I can patch him up—painfully,” he said, smirking.
“Good. I want him to suffer,” I replied, staring down at the mutilated flesh.“I want him to feel everything.”
The Pakhan placed his scalpel into the metal bowl, peeled off his bloodied gloves, and tossed them into the medical waste bin.
We usually took our carcasses to a local pig farm. Other than sorting through the shit for the occasional tooth or bone fragment, it was the cleanest way to dispose of bodies.
Unable to help myself, I stepped over to Petrov and pulled up one of his eyelids.
Then I sliced it off.
He jerked against the restraints. Good.
I did the same to the other eye, leaving both his eyeballs fully exposed. Then I took the long needle I’d used earlier from the bowl.
“I like your thinking,” the doctor said, barely containing his excitement.
The Pakhan stood back, watching as I slowly pushed the needle into the white of Petrov’s eye.
His low, guttural hum of pain filled the room—not a scream, not a cry.
A sound like a primitive, dying animal.
Exquisite.
???
We washed up and shared a drink. When he left, the Pakhan took the digital recorder with him, and I wondered if Ania would watch it. She never stopped watching Petrov, which is why the mission had gone perfectly, except for my new pet.
I returned to cut her free from the zip ties. The moment they snapped, she collapsed onto the floor like a ragdoll. Her hands were almost purple, so I rubbed them briskly to bring the circulation back.
“What’s the point of having a pet?” the doctor asked, his voice casual.
“Ownership. Accessibility. Control of a submissive,” I said, lifting her limp body over my shoulder. Her arms hung down and slapped lightly against my back.“I look forward to shattering her mind through her training.”
Vadik paused mid-sip.
“Train?” he asked, curiosity sharpening his tone.
“She’s asuka. Don’t dogs need to be trained?”
“Interesting,” he murmured, rubbing his chin. But it wasn’t idle thought—there was a gleam in his eye, a flicker of speculation I didn’t like.
I didn’t ask what he was imagining. I already had a decent guess. Whatever his thoughts were, they weren’t my problem. Not unless he tried to interfere with mysuka.
