Chapter 10
Frank was proud of the party room; it was now the coven room, complete in every way as Donna had specified. The floor was wall to wall in deep pile burgundy nylon carpeting. Sixteen dollars per square foot. The ceiling he had painted with two coats of flat finish black paint. Holly had helped. Finding enough black velvet to cover the walls had been a job, even in Los Angeles. He'd found ten bolts in a theater supply house. He had hung the velvet with Holly's help. Neither he nor Donna wanted a lot of workmen in the basement, seeing the developing room, asking questions.
The altar had been a problem. Until he had gone to a custom decorator in Hollywood who was used to cult-oriented special orders. The specifications—red leather top, archaic design, black velvet draping—all had gone unremarked upon. The drawing (which he had duplicated on the office copier) served beautifully as a guide for the decorator's workers. The decorator had also provided the sponge rubber pads covered with crimson velvet. After a consultation with Donna, Frank ordered the pads be the size of bed mattresses. Six-inch foam rubber. There were, in addition, dozens of big, red velvet pillows. The old cabinets he had found in antique shops in Venice, up the coast near Santa Monica, and the candle holders had been found by the Hollywood decorator.
Frank stood in the coven room and felt the sinister atmosphere. The tall, thick black candles were lit. They would last all night. The effect was ominous, evil, arcane. He thought for a moment of the three thousand dollars it had all cost. He didn't care. There was no turning back.
He thought they were in the clear as far as the police were concerned. John Bernstein had called a few hours after Lieutenant Rose and Sergeant Dennison had left the house. Bernstein had confirmed that Frank Kaiser and Donna Kaiser had never met Dainis Webster before the night of the party. Bernstein had said, "Frank, I thought it best not to mention that spell and Donna's participation. It was so obviously a case of too vivid an imagination and an emotional catharsis ... a kind of hysteria ... physical ventilation of psychic pressures ... " Bernstein was an amateur psychologist.
Frank had thanked him. The next day at the office Frank learned the lieutenant had been there, too, checking on his alibi. So they were now probably off the suspect list. Safe. Frank, for the hundredth time, wondered if he was right in covering up for Donna. It was too late. He was an accessory now. Her hold on him was too strong.
Donna was up in the master bedroom, preparing herself for the first full coven ritual. She had demanded five hundred dollars of him—and he had given it—and she had had Holly drive her to Beverly Hills, to buy "suitable clothes." She had returned with outfits for him, for Holly and herself. Frank looked down at himself. He wore a floor-length black and red brocaded robe with heavy brass buttons cast with a horned devil's face. Within the robe he was naked. He wore a black skull cap. He wore black velvet slippers. Donna must have gotten the outfits from a motion picture costume company. Upstairs, waiting to admit the new recruits, Holly was similarly attired, without the skull cap.
Frank looked at the two shrouded figures that flanked the front of the altar. They were life-size statues. Donna had made certain alterations ... He limped to one of the antique, black-lacquered cabinets. On its top were an old, brass, covered dish and a crystal decanter of dark red fluid. One dish held squares of a special, dense cake Holly had baked. Each square contained enough ground-up marijuana to make anyone high for the night. The decanter contained boysenberry juice laced with amphetamines. A ceremonial eating of a piece of "Black Mass" cake and a mouthful of the purplish "Satan's Blood" would charge up anyone to extraordinary feats. Donna had bought the drugs. He didn't know where she had gotten them. He didn't care. He had reluctantly bought a small live pig. It was in the garage, oinking and grunting to itself in a stout wooden box. He still resisted ritual sacrifice ... and the acts it involved.
Frank heard the door chimes sound upstairs. He wondered who had arrived first. For a fleeting second he wondered if it was the police. But he hadn't heard from Lieutenant Rose again since that visit over a week ago. The papers hadn't sensationalized the murder of Webster. A terrible jet crash in the Santa Monica mountains with a loss of 135 lives and a spectacular mud slide in Malibu had dominated the newspapers for three days. And on the fourth day some terrorist group had bombed The Queen Mary in Long Beach. What was the grotesque murder of an obscure "demonologist" compared to those stories?
Frank left the coven room and went up the stairs. He reminded himself he was no longer simply Frank Kaiser. He was now acolyte to a demon-possessed witch. He had to act the part. In a perverse way he was looking forward to it.
The first arrival was a big, heavy young man named Jimmy Massinsky. He looked out at the world with frightened brown eyes set in a plump babyish face. Donna had found him in Beverly Hills somehow. He was the only heir to a real estate fortune held by his mother. He was twenty-six years old, awkward, insecure, looking for direction and meaning. Donna's eyes had glowed when she had described him. "He will be wealthy inside six months. His mother will die of an incurable cancer. I will arrange that."
Frank had asked, "How?"
"I have powers. He will arrange for me to meet her. I will alter her glands slightly. A few visits and she'll develop a tumor somewhere and it will grow with great speed."
Holly had greeted Jimmy and led him to the basement stairs when Frank reached the top. Frank said in his best, deep, booming voice, "Satan welcomes you, my son. Descend with me to Hell."
Jimmy almost giggled. "Yeah, okay. I like those outfits. Am I going to wear one?"
"When you have passed the Tests. When you have irrevocably given yourself to Satan and all his needs."
The chimes sounded. The recruits were prompt. It was not quite yet eleven p.m. Frank preceded Jimmy down the stairs. Holly stayed behind to answer the door. In the coven room, Frank commanded, "You must strip and prepare to face Evil."
Jimmy was impressed by the room. He obeyed Frank without question. He asked, "When does Donnathia come down?"
Donna had adopted that name.
"When the others have arrived and prepared for her." Frank folded his arms across his chest. He watched with mild curiosity as Jimmy undressed and showed a pale white, pudgy body, with hairy thighs and arms. But it was the young man's genitals that were remarkable—the penis hung between his thick hairy thighs like a pink and white length of hose. It was a good six inches long in its soft state, Frank saw. Frank thought it no accident that Jimmy was present and so well hung; somehow the demon had sensed his "qualifications" on all levels —psychological, financial and physical.
Naked, ill-at-ease, Jimmy asked, "What now?"
"Lie face down on the carpet facing the altar. Meditate on the deadly sins. Prepare your mind to do evil, to defy society, to believe in the final victory of Satan and the final death of God."
Jimmy nodded and did as he was told. At the same moment there was a murmur of female voices overhead and steps on the stairs. Frank waited as Helene Buvo and her daughter, Adrienne, hesitantly entered the coven room. Holly had led them down.
Holly seemed transformed; the special robe and her duties and status as acolyte to Donnathia made her glow with newfound assurance. Some of her old surface hipness and confidence showed, but altered to conform to her new identity. She smiled at Frank from behind the two women.
She introduced them to Frank. He bowed his head in stern greeting. He kept his arms crossed on his chest. "Strip!" he commanded with baritone firmness.
Helene was a dyed blonde woman, sinewy, slender, with high cheekbones and darting, curious eyes. She was forty-five but looked thirty-five. She smiled. "By all means." She dismissed as unimportant the naked, prone, blubbery form of Jimmy Massinsky.
Adrienne was auburn-haired, an inch or two taller than her mother, and possessed a tremendous bust. Her hips were solid blocks of bone and flesh. Her waist was narrow. Her legs were long and shapely, proportioned along the lines of her opulent breasts and hips.
Frank found it hard to believe the two women were mother and daughter, compared physically as well as emotionally.
Adrienne was fidgety, frightened, nervous, jumpy. She started at the sight of Jimmy and her eyes widened at the coven room's hangings and decor. She looked at the shrouded statues fearfully.
Adrienne whispered to her mother, "I don't think I want to go through with this."
Helene turned scornfully to her. "I do! I swam in Donnathia's eyes. I know her powers. I know she can link us with John—wherever he is in Hell. She told us she could reach him."
"But this isn't just a game ... I think it's real! She terrified me when Holly brought her to us."
Helene nodded. "Me, too. That's how I know! I'm tired of paying mediums for fakery and deception. I'll gladly give my soul if there's really a world beyond!"
"It's crazy. It can't be."
"Then there's nothing to fear, you goose! Get your clothes off."
But Adrienne held back while undressing. She would only take off her large, white, wired bra until after Helen had casually dropped her skimpy cups. Helen's breasts were conical, tipped with businesslike red teats. She obviously had suckled Adrienne twenty-two years before, as well as innumerable men since. Adrienne's breasts sagged inevitably when her bra's support loosened, but only enough to give them an enhanced, earthy, natural shape. They were incredible, with tiny nipples centered in wide oval smears of light red-brown aureoles. Helen matter of factly stepped out of her black panties. Her center was a bushy pelt of curly brown. Adrienne pushed her pink panties down off her swelling hips and down those ivory columns. Her triangle was thinly covered by tight red-brown curls.
Holly said, "Lay down facing the altar. One of you on each side of Jimmy." She let her hand slide erotically over Adrienne's rump. "Donnathia will descend to us in a moment. We await the last of our number." She glided out of the room and went back upstairs.
As if on cue, the chimes rang. Frank warned, "Do not speak to one another. Silence until our Witch tells you to speak. Consider that you will lose your souls tonight. Consider that you are doomed to serve Satan forever, once the ritual is complete."
Adrienne lay trembling. There were goose bumps on her flesh even though the temperature was a warm 75 degrees.
Frank remembered Donnathia's instructions: "Give extra amounts of the cake and drink to that tub Massinsky and the amazon. His fat will absorb a lot of the drugs, and she'll need a lot of it to crack her fear and inner resistance." Donnathia had laughed. "But once that girl's walls go down she'll be hell on two legs."
Holly brought down Jonathan Dean. She said quietly, "I will inform Donnathia all are present."
Dean was cool and interested. "Hello, Frank." He looked around, examined the three naked people on the carpet, and smiled. "Nice layout. Be a perfect setting for a sex movie orgy. Got any cameras hidden in the walls?"
Frank looked through the man. "Strip! Lie on the floor facing the altar!"
"Oh, very straight. Very sticky for the proper atmosphere and all. Okay. I'll go along with it. That's what I'm here for."
"SILENCE! YOU WILL NOT SPEAK!" Frank thundered in his powerful voice. He saw Dean recoil, cowed somewhat.
The memory of Donnathia's visit had to be fresh in the wealthy man's mind. He had been bowled over by her radiance and aura. She had held him with her eyes and promised him unspeakable pleasures and enormous wealth and power. "Serve me," she had whispered, piercing him with her blue lightning gaze, "Serve me, be an immortal slave to Satan, and you shall rule a nation of mortals on this Earth."
Jonathan Dean had been captured, but obviously her effect had worn off a bit. Frank smiled to himself as he prepared, upon Holly's return, to feed the new ones their ration of drugged cake and juice. Dean and the others would be overwhelmed by her awesome persona. No mortal could resist her when she unleashed the full force of her will and her powers. The drugged food and drink were mere tools, devices to shortcut to a complete commitment to her and to the Old Ones, and the Supreme One. Donnathia was moving very fast.
Frank was interested in the nakedness of Jonathan Dean. The flabby pectorals and saggy paunch made of the rich man just another middle-aged male who lacked discipline, who would die in a few years of a coronary, a stroke, or cancer. Unless Satan accepted him. Dean's genitals were small, but Frank knew that wasn't a sure-fire guide to the length of his penis when erect. Dean finished stripping and went to his knees, and then to his stomach next to Helene. He winked at her. She winked back.
Holly entered the coven room. The door was left wide open. The basement beyond was in total darkness. Holly and Frank served the would-be coven members the cake and juice. Frank presented each with a portion in a small silver dish. Holly served them the liquid in a silver goblet. Jimmy Massinsky ate two pieces and swallowed a half goblet full of the spiked juice. Adrienne also was given two squares of cake and a half goblet to drink. Frank lit four incense pots. The heavy aroma began to fill the room. It would take about fifteen minutes for the drugs to take effect.
Frank and Holly sat at opposite ends of the black velvet-draped altar and chanted in unison, "Aglon Tetragram Veycheon Stimulamathon. Erohares Retragsammathon Clyoran Icion. Edition Eh:fatten Eryona Onera Erasyu Mayu. Meffias Soter Emmanuel Sabotli Adouai, I call you. Amen."
Donnathia had chanted the spell once for them, and the strange words had stayed in his mind—and in Holly's mind—and they came to his lips without search or strain. Frank and Holly droned the spell again and again. Frank knew it was very close to midnight. He thought he saw a movement beyond the door. Adrienne was breathing raggedly.
Then Donnathia was standing in the doorway! The tall black candles flickered from an unfelt wind. Wild shadows leaped in the black room. She wore a cape of crimson silk edged in silver and black. It moved gently as if alive against her naked, magnificently formed body. Her long blonde hair was styled in a strange, upswept design that lent an evil, cruel aspect to her young face. Her eyes—!
Both Holly and Frank broke off their chant. Frank cried, "SHE IS HERE!" The supplicants all looked around. They gasped.
Donnathia walked slowly, backward, imperiously, to the left, and mounted the low platform behind the altar. When she spoke, her voice was vibrant, filled with power, yet trembling on the edge of hysteria.
"This now is the beginning of the Rule of Satan! This now is the beginning of the true death of God! By our oaths this night, by our orgies this night, by our rituals this night we make a Way for Him. We give our souls to the Horned One, to the Hideous One and to the Most Terrible One."
She flung her arms wide. The crimson silk swirled away from her white body. "May the Gods of Acheron be propitious to me. May the triple divine power of Jehovah fail! Fire, air, water, spirit of the earth, hail! Chief of the East, Beelzebub, monarch of fiery hell, and Demogorgou, we propitiate you that Awful Satan may bless us!"
Her intense, catalyzing voice affected everyone. Its harmonics plucked deep in their seething minds. Adrienne was moaning, beginning to writhe on the carpet. Her long, solid legs spread open. Her eyes were glazed, staring as she gaped up at the altar.
Jimmy Massinsky was squirming, rubbing himself on the deep red pile, digging in his fingers. His flesh quivered. He panted loudly. He gazed at Donnathia with abject adoration. Helene and Jonathan were only slightly less affected.
Donnathia was exalted. She trembled with excitement and power. She suddenly clamped her hands on her lovely, full, naked breasts and dug her fingers deep into the white flesh. She was flushed. Her eyes were burning blue coals. "I GIVE YOU SOULS, MY LORD OF THE FLIES! I ASK POWERS TO DO YOUR WILL!"
Frank and Holly were caught by the force of her mind. They sank to their knees. The candlelight quivered. Fantastic shadows, black-on-black, seemed to cavort on the velvet-draped walls. Donnathia called, "Bring the sacrifice!"
Frank was drunk on her aura, on the hot, evil electricity in the air, on the needs of the squirming bodies. He went quickly out of the room, up the stairs, feeling his way in the darkness, out to the garage. In the cool night air he lost the madness of the coven room. He faltered. He rubbed his face and shivered in his brocaded robe. He moaned softly, "Oh, my God. Help me." He waited a moment, head bowed, then sighed and opened the wooden box that held the small pig. He lifted out the wriggling, kicking animal and returned to the house. When he descended the basement stairs he descended into dim, flickering Hell. The aroma of incense was heavy, the sibilance of breathing and movement was pervasive. Over it all Donnathia's driven voice had reached new peaks of unrestrained frenzy. The pig kicked and squealed in his arms. Perhaps it sensed its death.
When he reentered the coven room, he saw that Holly was bearing a big, oval bronze platter to the altar. Donnathia held a long, oddly curved knife aloft. The handle had been intricately carved from ivory. The silver hilt was shaped like a pair of graven horns. She continued a ritual incantation to the legions of Hell. Her voice was hypnotic.
The drugs had taken full possession of the two men and women who groveled on the carpet. Jimmy Massinsky had rolled onto his back. His erection was monstrously large. He held his arms upraised to Donnathia, mouth open in a continuous panting moan. His loins jerked in blind thrusts. His organ wobbled heavily in the air. Adrienne was staring at his massive erection, drooling, squirming fractions of inches closer to him, gasping inarticulately. Her eyes were strangely wide. Helene had risen to a kneeling position, her hands clasped tightly, her lips moving in seeming prayer, and her eyes were riveted on Donnathia, and she was crying. Jonathan lay quivering, breathing very fast, still on his stomach, straining his neck to watch Donnathia. He drooled without realizing. He wiped his mouth automatically with his right hand.
Frank was sinking back into the atmosphere of the room. He carried the pig behind the altar. He was suddenly very close to Donnathia. Her silk cape brushed his face. She wore a musky perfume that made his mind reel. She was gloriously evil, dominant, transformed! Her body lured him ... naked ... giver of pleasure. He hoisted the pig into the heavy metal platter. He held it on its back. He relinquished his hold on its forelegs to Holly, who stood on the other side of Donnathia.
Donnathia cried, "FOR THEE, STEWARD OF VOLUPTUOUS SINS AND MONSTROUS VICES, SATAN, SATAN, SATAN, I KILL!"
She held the knife in both hands and plunged it into the belly of the pig. The animal's screaming squeal joined with her scream of delight. Blood spurted. The pig arched and convulsed as she raised high the reddened, curved blade and plunged it again into the shrieking, dying beast. Frank and Holly fought to control the kicking legs and hold it in position. They were spattered. Donnathia's heaving white breasts and belly were spattered. Frank suddenly saw her butchering Webster in the same way. He closed his eyes and drove the image away. With the third triumphant plunge the knife found the pig's heart and it went limp, except for reflexive spasms. Blood flowed in red streams. It covered the bottom of the deep bronze platter.
Donnathia cried, panting, "Come up, come up to me how, you worshippers of Satan, and partake in this sacrifice to him. EAT—and give up your souls to him!" She slashed open the pig and tore out the bloody, leaking heart.
Jimmy, Adrienne, Helene and Jonathan were on their feet and crowding against the black velvet-draped altar. They were blazing-eyed, howling, clutching, begging for her to feed them, to make them slaves of Satan. Donnathia tore a piece of the heart free with her teeth. She spat it into her palm. She stuffed it into Adrienne's gaping mouth. Adrienne shuddered and chewed and swallowed. Her eyes rolled up. She fell back to the carpet and writhed, uttering weird cries.
Donnathia laughed insanely and fed the others a piece of the heart. Then she hacked free the pig's gonads and fed one each to Frank and Holly. Frank crushed the small, bitter pellet of flesh between his teeth and felt himself going over the edge. He could do anything now! He ripped the cover from the nearest statue. Revealed was a seated, wooden demon, its gargoyle face split in a fiendish grin, its taloned hands clutching the arms of its throne-like chair, its scaly wings folded behind its hunched back. Holly tore the shroud from the other statue, a twin of the one Frank had uncovered.
Donnathia had seen them in a Hollywood shop that specialized in renting odd, esoteric props to motion picture and TV production companies. The owner would not sell the statues ... at first. Now they belonged to her. The statues were frighteningly realistic; it must have taken a master wood carver months to complete them. The shop owner had said they were commissioned by a rich eccentric who had died before they had been finished. The artist had sold them to a major movie studio for the balance due on his commission. They had been used a few times in horror movies. Then the studio had been sold and the props auctioned off.
Donnathia had added something—nine-inch black plastic sex organs reared up from the mahogany loins. They were joined to the wood by tightly fitted dowels. Frank had installed those huge artificial phalluses. He had done a good job; they appeared to be part of the creatures, and made more obscene and malignant the grins on the hideous faces. In the flickering candlelight the monsters seemed almost alive.
Donnathia ripped the pig's entrails from its belly and arranged them in an intricate design. She smeared her breasts and belly with her bloody hands. Her hot gaze fastened on Adrienne. She pointed at the writhing girl. Her voice pierced Adrienne's mindless activity. "The young Buvo—embrace your master! Fuck your master!"
Adrienne sat up. She saw the grinning, lascivious monsters waiting. She saw the rearing black phalluses. She crawled, trembling, to the nearest. She reached and fondled the long, thick, black plastic. It was resilient, but stiff. She got to her feet, knelt on the wide wooden throne and kissed the grinning mahogany lips. Jimmy Massinsky was squatting, his hands on his own massive erection, masturbating as he watched. Helene was on her knees, sucking Jonathan's organ with sloppy abandon. He jerked and thrashed on his back.
Adrienne reached under and clasped the phallus. She lowered herself upon it. She took a great, thick length of it. She quivered and began rising and sinking on it. She embraced the statue and shook and moaned. Her white hips and buttocks rose and fell, rose and fell ... She crushed her melon breasts against the scaled chest and kissed passionately the frozen, ugly, gargoyle face.
Donnathia stabbed the air with her arm. "The old Buvo—embrace your master. Fuck your master!"
Helene stopped goggling Jonathan's penis. She looked up, eyes wide. "I—can't. It's too big."
"FUCK YOUR MASTER—OR DIE!"
Helene groaned, wired to Donnathia's eyes. She got to her feet. Still captured, unable to look away, to break the hold, she mounted the remaining statue. She bit her lips and paled as she forced herself down. For a long moment the two women raped themselves with the statues. Adrienne was babbling, working lower, impaling herself until her buttocks slapped against the sinewy wooden thighs.
Donnathia was pleased. Then she turned to the men. "Suck each other!"
"No! Oh, God—" Jonathon shook his head violently. He had been watching Jimmy masturbate. He made a face.
Jimmy was panting, close to spurting. "I will, I will, I will!" He wanted to please Donnathia. He scrambled the few feet to the paunchy, middle-aged man.
Jonathon curled up, face covered by his hands. He was an infant. "I won't!"
Donnathia took up the ceremonial knife and came down and around the altar. As she passed Helene crouching, groaning, on the statue's organ, she seized Helene's head, tilted her face and passionately kissed the woman. Helene shuddered and returned the kiss. Donnathia pulled away and knelt beside Jonathon. She pricked his flabby rump. He flinched and opened up his fetal ball. "I can't!"
"YOU WILL!" She jabbed the still bloody knife point to his throat. "Nothing is forbidden you. Satan commands that you shed the dead skin of morality. There are no rules but service to the Master! YOU MUST OBEY OR DIE! You have eaten of the sacrifice. You have given your soul to SATAN! You have no choice."
Donnathia gestured Jimmy close. She clasped his huge erection at the base and angled it toward Jonathon's face. The point of her knife still indented his throat. She glared fire and hell into Jonathon Dean's mind. The wealthy man gave a mewling cry of capitulation and took the large head of Jimmy's penis into his mouth. His eyes shut tight. Donnathia laughed evilly. "Now suck—suck good! Don't take your mouth off this lovely prick on pain of death!" She began pumping the shaft as he sucked inexpertly.
Within seconds, Jimmy began to tense. "Ohhh ... Ohhhh!" He gasped, "I love you!"
She whispered, "My slave! I possess you!" She kissed him, lewdly, with obscene art. Her soft, skilled hand pumped him faster.
The boy went rigid. He jerked, he spurted violently, gushingly, into Jonathon Dean's mouth. The older man recoiled, choking, gagging, and semen splattered his face.
Donnathia laughed loudly. "Now you know how the girls feel, old man!" She wiped some of it off his chin with her finger. She presented the finger to Jimmy's lips. "Lick it clean, slave, as proof of slavery!"
The youth obeyed. He sucked her finger enthusiastically. He had not lost his erection. The drugs were working well. Even Jonathon still had an erection.
Donnathia kissed Jimmy again. Her hand stayed on his penis. "I will reward you. Lie on your back."
Jimmy went down to the carpet instantly.
Donnathia called, "Adrienne, come fuck this one! Helene, come suck off the old one. Holly, use the Master that Adrienne has left, and face us as you fuck Him."
Frank wondered what she had in mind for him. She turned to Frank and her eyes glowed. "Sit the other Master, slave. Helene has left Him wet and slippery for you."
Frank almost rebelled. Take a nine-inch dildo up his rectum? Donnathia waved the knife in a Sign. "Obey ... obey ... " He went to the misshapen, grotesque statue. He acted almost without volition. His legs walked, his arms pulled his robe off his naked body ... "Facing us!" Donnathia commanded.
He had to climb on backward, awkwardly. He saw Holly already in position, screwing herself down on the wobbly black phallus. Her mouth hung open. She watched Donnathia abjectly. Frank felt the head pressing against his anus. Strange, frightening, alien touch. Slippery. He hadn't taken any of the drugs and yet his mind swirled. He felt hot and prickly. He dreaded and wanted. He watched Adrienne's opulent vulva swallow the whole of Jimmy's very large penis. She rose and fell. Frank watched Helene suck on Jonathon's organ as if it were coated with a flavoring she adored. Frank gingerly let his weight press the head tighter against his anus. He knew it was going to hurt. He couldn't!
Suddenly Donnathia was before him. She held his head. She kissed him with hot, wet, passionate lips and mouth. She breathed into his ear, "For me, Daddy. For me!" Her hot, sweet mouth came to his lips again. She put hands on his shoulders and urged him down. He lost himself in her hungry, sensuous kiss and did not care if the thing tore him open and sent him to the hospital. The pain would be good, an atonement for what he had done, for what he had allowed, for what he would do ...
Frank took his supporting hands from the arms of the statue. The black phallus breeched his anus! His weight drove it deep, up into his colon. It was an agony, a ring of fire where his stretched anal sphincter was strained by the massive thickness of the black shaft. Frank howled and reared back to lift himself off that impalement. Donnathia seized his arms with amazing strength. "NO!"
His struggling drove the monster even deeper. It hurt! His guts ached! The thing felt alien in his body, as if he had been defiled, as if he were pronged like some hunk of meat in a butcher's cold room. Lightenings of pain surrounded the length in his gut. He gritted his teeth. He breathed with quick, moaning rasps.
Donnathia soothed him. "Be still. Quiet ... quiet. The hurt will fade." She captured his eyes. Her blue pupils seemed to expand until they were an ocean and his mind was adrift in it. The pain did fade. Only the huge club-like presence in his vitals remained. His breathing slowed. He sat relaxed in the distorted lap of the wooden devil. Donnathia kissed him again. Her left hand drifted down his body ... fingernails lightly brushing his skin ... till she found his penis. Frank was astonished to discover—when she clasped him—that he was rigid. Abruptly his attention centered in his erection. He was throbbing, wanting!
"For my first acolyte ... " Donnathia sank to her knees. Her red cape spread in a wide pool on the carpet. Her incredibly skilled mouth took him slowly, exquisitely. She sucked!
Frank groaned with pure, unchained lust and looked to Holly. She was shuddering in a wild orgasm, the whole of that devil's black phallus buried in her vagina. Her eyes were rolling and blood and foamed saliva flecked her lips. She rocked forward and back, forward and back with panting greed.
The others, on the carpet, were partly watching, partly engaged in the acts Donnathia had commanded. Adrienne crouched over Jimmy, her plump, velvety hips gyrating, taking and snaking his huge organ. Her breasts hung down like giant white gourds and buffeted his chest with fat softness and stiff nipples. Jimmy had eyes only for Donnathia. His gaze swam with love. Jonathon climaxed explosively in Helen's suctioning mouth.
Donnathia seemed to sense Jimmy's utter devotion. She took her mouth from Frank's hardness. "Jimmy," she called. "Come and fuck me. Come and give me pleasure." To Adrienne she said, "Eat with your mother! Sixty-nine!"
Jimmy glowed. He crawled to Donnathia, his huge penis wet from Adrienne's squishy vagina. With trembling hands he lifted her crimson silk covering away from her body. He caressed her smooth, taut rump as she knelt and sucked Frank. Jimmy was overcome with the drugs and with love. He probed his rigid organ between her round thighs. He found her waiting vulva. He sank into her.
Frank had a grandstand view of everything. He sat with that black pole stirring in his bowels with his every slight move, and he watched Adrienne attack her mother with a gluttonous mouth, and watched Helene throw off all inhibitions and restrictions and fit herself to her daughter and begin to tongue Adrienne's juicy vulva.
Frank looked straight down and saw Donnathia's blonde head moving like a metronome, felt her mouth-tongue-throat working in unison on and around his throbbing, jerking organ. And Frank saw the slobbering love and lust in Jimmy's face as the young man penetrated further, with great, crude lunges, till his belly slapped Donnathia's velvety cheeks.
Jonathon lay where he had spurted into Helen's mouth a few moments before. He was on his back, twitching, his penis still erect. An artery pounded in his gray-fringed temple. He was breathing heavily, watching, too.
Frank experienced the seething sensations of imminent climax. He tightened on the pole buried in his guts. He gripped the gnarled wooden arms which gripped the throne. Jimmy's huge pistoning and pounding into Donnathia was jolting her, giving her deep-throat suckings a special quality, a new, added sensation to Frank's growing, thundering avalanche of pleasure. Jimmy, too, was in the throes of orgasm. He went: "UHHHHHH! UHH! UHH!" His flesh quivered with the smashing power of his lunges. His eyes bulged.
Frank was jetting semen far up in Donnathia's throat. He was tunnel-visioned: A red haze focused everything on the black doorway leading to the outer basement. For a blinding moment he thought he saw a hideous face hanging in the blackness, a scaly skull, with curved horns. And hellish red eyes ...
In the hours that followed, the orgy involved everyone in almost every possible sexual combination. In their turn both Jimmy and Jonathon "sat" one of the devil statues. Jonathon squealed like the sacrificed pig ... and ejaculated as he screamed.
Donnathia took all three men at once—Jimmy's ever-hard organ in her anus, Frank in her vagina, Jonathon in the mouth, to the root. Donnathia lay on a velvet pad amid the pillows and was eaten non-stop for an hour, each new acolyte vying to bring her to orgasm more often than the others. Helene, surprisingly, won.
Vibrators were brought out—and Holly was stimulated to a series of convulsive climaxes. Elaborately shaped and decorated dildoes were brought from the cabinets and slipped over exhausted male organs. The orgy went on and on ... At dawn the new coven members crept from the house, dismissed at last. Donnathia was as energetic and passionate and dominant as ever. Her vitality seemed inhuman.