Absolutely not! KZ and SZ said in unison.
The schmuck stepped up onto the bed. Mothball groin hit my face. My father told me not to come here. I gagged. My father begged me. Mattress softened. The schmuck cranked my body up higher with rubber. Arms straight upraised, elbows locked with his furor. I felt army pants, gristle. I needed to breathe. The schmuck picked the tape off with his fingernail from my face.
‘Fuck you,’ was the first thing I said.
Tell him where to go, KZ applauded.
SZ: Smash oppressors the world over.
KZ: So hatred has no place.
Now Barbra entered the picture, shushing and slicking back hairs from my head. Where was the knife now? What was she doing instead? I felt doe-eyed. The schmuck jumped off of the bed. Barbra kept trying to soothe me. I knew they were both prepping me for sacrifice, for death.
KZ: Reject it.
SZ: Rejoice it.
‘Trust me,’ Barbra said. She kept stroking my forehead and oiling down my thick hairs with her sweat.
I did not feel soothed. I was scared of the blade.
The end of the line for Ka-Tzetnik was that his wife made him do a shitload of drugs. ‘My guy’ could not heal. He burned all his books.
‘Don’t kill me,’ I wept.
My eyes bulged like jewels. I wailed. A bitch. Barbra licked my cheek, so I turned my head. Her mouth was right there and she sucked out my tongue. The schmuck was watching. Barbra slid two fingers in my mouth. She grabbed on to my tongue. Then she coated my groin with both our spit. Bigger than the dome. Cold as a fridge. This was a snuff scene. A saggy grey web suffocated my face.
‘Take me down now,’ I panted, totally freaked.
‘Beg harder, Jew-boy.’
‘Take me down, Barbra. Please!’
God, how many times had I finished our story in my head? What if that knife had been one fraction higher?
The web stuffed my nostrils. It wrapped round my throat. I felt the schmuck’s cock in his army-pant tent. Barbra glanced backwards at him, squeezing me.
‘I want to hear you really scared.’
Knife near. Suicide is done in the wrists.
‘I can’t feel my arms! I swear I can’t feel them!’
‘Like that. Good boy.’
My cock was in her hands. God, where was the knife? KZ and SZ were silent for a second. Point up. No more voices. I felt lightning in my body, then a short, brutal nick. I screamed. I shot cum right into her fist. It felt like a heart attack, but when I looked down, I saw nothing had erupted. Mock orgasm.
KZ and SZ started hysterically laughing.
The sun had gone grey. I heard myself panting wet.
‘Now,’ Barbra ordered, her voice grisly again.
In slow motion I watched him hand her the knife.
‘God, I don’t want to die here, please, I don’t want to die!’
She was humming some prayer. He was watching me squeal. Her face near my cock, bobbing. Tears at the head. Soap bubbles’ glint. Her wolflike saliva. Even my asshole started to beat.