Chapter 8
Frank and Holly went down the basement stairs together. She held his hand tightly. She said, "Whoopee, I'm scared shitless. I hate initiations."
Frank squeezed her hand reassuringly, but knew it was a hollow gesture—he was as much in Donna's power as Holly. They entered the party room. Donna sat on a bamboo stool at the bar. She was reading a pocket book. With a shock Frank recognized the robe she now wore. It had been one of Ellen's. It was black silk edged in Chinese red, with a red sash. He winced at the memory it triggered. His throat tightened. Tears came to his eyes and his nose stung. He had packed all of Ellen's clothes into a trunk and stored it in a corner of the low attic. No one had seen him do it. How had Donna known? The sexy black robe hung on Donna as if made for her. The red sash hung loose from the loops.
Donna turned, and showed her lovely, fifteen-year-old body. She closed the book with her left hand and slipped it into the robe's wide slash pocket. She scowled at Frank. "You forgot the things I had you buy for the ritual. Get them."
Frank hesitated a fraction of a second, then turned and went back upstairs.
Holly stood alone, pale, swaying. She breathed, "What's going to happen to me?"
"Nothing fatal. You might even enjoy parts of it." Donna's eyes gleamed. She slipped off the stool and approached Holly. She walked around the pile of cushions and pillows. Her robe hung open, kept apart by the thrusting globes of her breasts.
Donna said, "Take off that shirt!"
Holly obeyed with trembling hands. Frank's pink shirt dropped to the tile floor. She gasped softly as Donna's mouth fastened on her lips and as Donna embraced her tightly. Holly had admitted to being bi-sexual, and she responded to the kiss—the strangely masculine, butchy kiss. She pressed her warm belly against Donna's.
Donna kissed Holly's ear and whispered huskily, "I'm going to fuck you tonight." Then she laughed and stepped away. She walked regally behind the bar. The bar was solidly built, seven feet long, with a green formica top, and trimmed with split bamboo along the sides. Donna stepped up onto a low stool behind the bar. She closed the silk robe and cinched the sash. She said, "This is the altar for now. Climb up on here and lie face up, your head to the East." She tapped the left end of the bar.
Holly complied. Her heart was pounding. The formica was cold when she stretched out, and she flinched, but it warmed quickly. Donna placed her hands on Holly's sunken belly. "Your body is now the altar upon which we will worship the Horned One."
Frank came into the party room. He carried a wooden bowl, an incense burner, a Halloween gargoyle mask, candles, and a very large hollow plastic dildo with an attached elastic strap. In addition, in a black, draw-stringed sack, were three wooden and plastic crucifixes and a statuette of the Virgin Mary.
Donna ordered, "Light the candles. Burn the incense then switch off the lights. When I tell you, don the mask and become naked. Now bring me the bag and the prick."
Holly turned her head and saw the giant dildo. She groaned, "Ohhh ... "
In a moment the low-ceilinged basement room was lit only by four small, flickering candles. A single candle burned at each end of the altar, inches from Holly's head and feet. Incense began to cloy the air. Holly now lay with her arms outstretched, candles seated in dripped wax on her upturned palms. The rarely used party room door was closed. Incense perfumed the air.
Frank stripped off his clothes and put on the gargoyle mask. Looking out of the small slit-holes, hearing his breathing loud and sibilant behind the stiff, formed, laminated plastic, he felt ... free to do evil, free to indulge, free to obey Donna, because he was hidden, masked, a different man.
In the dim, glimmering light, Donna was incredibly beautiful. Her long blonde hair, dry now, tumbled over her shoulders, contrasting with the black silk. She seemed to exist partly in deep, enveloping shadow. She said to Frank, "Kneel below the altar. Take this crucifix and hold it upside down in your hands." She pressed an inverted crucifix to Holly's lips. "Kiss the Christ's loins."
When Holly had done it, Donna spread her arms, made Satan's sign with her first and fourth fingers, and cried, "OH MIGHTY TCHORT, OH MIGHTY DEV. OH MIGHTY BEHERIT, OH MIGHTY PWCCA, OH MIGHTY ASMODEUS, BELIAL AND APOLLYON, OH MIGHTY SHEITAN, OH MIGHTY SET, OH MIGHTY O YAMA!"
Her breasts heaved, her throat corded. Her voice keened to a higher, more chilling pitch. "OH GREAT EHEIEH, OH GREAT IOD, OH GREAT TETRAGRAMMATON ELOHIM, OH GREAT EL, OH GREAT ELOHIM GIBOR, OH GREAT ALOAH VA-DAATH, OH GREAT EL ADOMAI TZABAOTH, OH GREAT SHADDAI!"
She tore open her robe. Her breasts were bared. Her nipples were starkly turgid. She screamed with every ounce of her being! "WE ARE HERE TO SERVE THEE, MASTER! I BEG MORE POWERS! THIS COVEN IS CREATED! THIS VESSEL IS YOURS!" She clamped a cruel hand on one of Holly's small breasts. She positioned the crucifix head down between Holly's thighs at the crotch. Holly's outstretched hands jerked. The candles set in wax on her palms fluttered and almost went out. She was gasping with fear.
Donna shouted, "THIS SOUL CRAVES TO SERVE YOU!" She placed both hands on Holly's forehead. "SHE IS YOURS BECAUSE SHE IS MINE!" She pointed a trembling finger at Frank. "HE IS YOURS BECAUSE HE IS MINE!" She was shaking violently. She sucked huge lungfuls of air. She took up the crucifix and broke it in two. She pointed to Frank. He broke his crucifix. He was shivering, as was Holly. The air in the party room had suddenly cooled.
A terrifying bass voice came from her throat. Her blazing eyes closed. "BY THE MYSTERIES OF THE DEEP, BY THE FLAMES OF BANAL, BY THE POWER OF THE EAST, AND BY THE SILENCE OF THE NIGHT, BY THE UNHOLY RITES OF HECATE, I GIVE MY HOST AND MY SLAVES OVER TO YOU, MOST FOUL, MOST DEPRAVED MASTER OF SLANDERS, DISPENSER OF THE BLESSINGS OF LUST, STEWARD OF VOLUPTUOUS SINS AND MONSTROUS VICES, SATANACHIA, IT IS YOU WE WORSHIP THIS AWFUL NIGHT."
Donna—or the thing that was Donna—quivered as if suddenly emptied and then almost instantly refilled. She moaned in a strange, hollow voice.
The voice said, "I ... am ... here."
Her eyes opened. There burned in them a new fire, more terrifying than before. Alien. Cold. Distant. Contemptuous. She looked slowly around. She laughed a laugh that sent tremors of dread and horror through Holly. Frank gazed up at the creature that was his daughter and felt awe and mortal fear. His skin crawled. His breath was loud and fast in the mask.
The voice seemed to echo from within her. "I ... accept."
Again she quivered as if relinquished and then reclaimed. Her eyes gleamed with the demon's fire. Her laugh was throaty and triumphant. "He was HERE! We are HIS!"
And the air warmed. She reached to a shelf beneath the bar top and brought up a long, thin steel knife. She placed the point to the hollow of Holly's pulsing throat. "SWEAR! DO YOU SERVE ME AND THROUGH ME SATANACHIA AND THROUGH SATANACHIA LUCIFUGE AND THROUGH LUCIFUGE ASTORATH AND THROUGH ASTORATH BEELZEBUB AND THROUGH BEELZEBUB THE INFERNAL MASTER OF THE BLACK UNIVERSE LUCIFER?"
Holly whispered, in a fugue of abject terror, her eyes wide and glazed, "Yes, master ... master, in everything. Yes. Yes!"
When Donna's gaze smote his eyes, Frank nodded quickly and managed, "I swear."
"Go and bring me the cat."
"Tribble?"
"Bring it!"
Frank lurched to his feet and limped heavily to the door. The air in the party room was hot! The gas furnace was set for only 76 degrees, and the candles couldn't have produced that much heat. And the cold a moment ago! He emerged into the main part of the basement and went up the stairs to the kitchen. He had an awful suspicion he knew why she wanted the kitten. He found Tribble curled up in his box beside the washing machine in the utility room. Tribble complained a little when he was picked up, but then settled into Frank's arms. Frank stood for a moment, petting the fluffy Persian. It purred. Its claws dug into his skin with pleasure. He murmured, "I'm sorry, Tribble. This is all a madness." He kissed the top of the kitten's head. "And I'm insane too."
He went back down to the party room. When he entered the dark, candlelit room and closed the door behind him, it was like walking into a perfumed oven, and he saw Donna bent over Holly, kissing Holly's thimble-like, erect nipples. Holly lay, still, with arms outspread, the candles seated on her palms.
Donna straightened. "Bring the animal to me." She took Tribble from Frank and held him high in one hand. The knife gleamed in her other hand. Her face, breasts and belly were sheened with perspiration. Holly glistened, too. At a gesture, Frank knelt before the altar. Donna intoned, '"Astaroth, Asmodeus, we beg you to accept the sacrifice of this being which we now offer you, so that we may receive the things that we ask."
She placed Tribble on Holly's naked stomach. Holly quivered. "A minor soul for thee in Hell, Astaroth. It COMES!" She plunged the knife into Tribble's furry belly and ripped up to the rib cage. Blood squirted. The cat squalled and convulsed with lightning speed. Holly screamed. Her eyes rolled up and she fainted. Her arms turned and bent. The candles pulled free of her palms and fell to the tiles. They went out. Somehow, Donna kept hold of the cat's neck as it flailed and scratched and bit. She gored the wound with the knife and finally pierced the heart. The kitten died; a last tremor jerked its left hind leg. It was a limp thing, leaking blood over Holly's small breasts, stomach and belly. Spatters of blood speckled her loins and thighs, and arms and face. Donna's hands were scratched and bleeding. Her blood mixed with Tribble's. She laughed wildly, flushed, exhilarated, and put the wooden bowl on the hollow of Holly's loins. She let the cat's blood run into the bowl. She said, "Frank, bring a stool to the side of the altar. Climb and kneel on it. Be ready to give your prick to her mouth." Frank obeyed.
Holly was coming out of her faint. It was much darker in the room. Only the candles at her head and feet were still lit. Donna pinched one of Holly's nipples. Holly gasped and reflexively brought a hand up. Her eyes widened when she saw she had caused the candles to fall. She cringed when she saw the dripping carcass held over the bowl. Donna commanded, "Suck his prick!"
Holly turned her head and faced Frank's flaccid genitals. She looked up and saw him in the gargoyle mask. She willingly scooped his softness into her mouth and began to suck. Frank was surprised at how fast he got an erection. But hiding in his mask helped. And it seemed to him that Holly's mouth was unusually warm and her tongue and lips and cheeks unusually gentle and yet superbly active. She had never sucked him this well before. He began to enjoy it very much. He began coital movements. The eye slits in the mask severely restricted his vision. He kept his head down, watching Holly, and was able not to see Donna and the bloody thing she held. But she allowed him only a moment of pleasure. "Now! Your final test of evil and commitment!" She thrust the dead cat into his hands. "Fuck it! Use the knife hole. Now. NOW!"
He held the corpse—the pitiable limp, dead thing that had been Tribble, and he obeyed. A malignant yes impelled him to do it. A recognition of his own depravity. A rationalization—the cat was dead anyway ... He withdrew from Holly's suctioning mouth. He braced the small, gory-wet, furry body against the bar edge. He was surprised he wasn't losing his erection. He breathed loudly in the mask. He was sweating. The room was dark and roasting hot. He thrust into the warm, wet little corpse. The small head wobbled lifelessly.
Donna commanded of Holly, "Sit up. Drink!" She held out the wooden, blood-spattered bowl. It was half full. Holly almost retched. She had watched Frank impale the dead kitten. The corpse was moving against her upper arm. She cringed from it. And now—But she sat up. She took the bowl in trembling hands and brought it to her lips. She tried not to think, not to realize! She sought Donna's imperious, masterful eyes. Locked into that malevolent gaze, she tilted the bowl and filled her mouth with lukewarm, salty blood. Holly swallowed once. Her throat worked as she fought to keep from vomiting. Her stomach churned. Donna took the bowl from Holly. "You're both learning. Good! There will be more terrible things to do in the days to come. This is a beginning."
Donna raised the bowl to her lips. "ASTAROTH, I SALUTE YOU!" She drank. Then she let the dregs flow onto her magnificent breasts. She flung the bowl away. It clattered on the tiles. She smeared the blood over her breasts and belly. She breathed deep and fast. Her hands entered the valley of her thighs. She saw that Frank was still penetrating the corpse. He was working hard, squishing in and out of the rib cage. She said, "Now into her mouth again!" She pushed Holly's head down, turned it, held it as Frank dropped the kitten and plunged between the open, waiting lips.
Holly almost gagged from the thought of taking his blood-wet penis into her mouth—but her mouth and chin were bloody, and the taste of raw blood was still with her. A part of Holly's mind caved in and another part burst free. She gave in further to an utter abandon, a total psychic release. Holly moaned with evil passion and sucked in ecstatic surrender. She did not see Donna strap on the huge dildo. But Frank saw it, and the image made his pleasure stronger. He peeked through the eye slits of the mask like a voyeur.
Donna ordered, "Turn her, Frank. Ninety degrees." He pulled from Holly's mouth and pivoted her on the bar top. Now Holly lay across the eighteen-inch wide bar, with her legs, upper back, shoulders and head unsupported. "Hold her head in your hands. Use her mouth. Fuck her mouth!"
Holly didn't understand. The position was awkward and precarious. But she did not complain. Her master had ordered it. She gripped the edge of the bar for stability. She let her head fall back. Her mouth was pulled open by the position. Frank's hands cupped the back of her head. She saw the taut, fuzzy sack of his testicles, the rigid boom of his penis, the massive columns of his thighs. He entered her mouth again. She couldn't suck as well upside down, but she tried ... as he plunged deep.
Frank watched Donna move between Holly's thighs. Donna pulled up the girl's legs and spread them. The dildo wobbled, long, thick, a grotesque exaggeration of a penis—ridged, veined, capped by a knoblike glands. Donna seated the knob in Holly's exposed, gaping, wet, vulva. "Now I fuck you! Now it enters!"
Holly grunted with surprise and pain. She felt utterly defenseless, utterly a slave, with no rights, no pride, no self. She felt the hugeness thrust up into her belly. Oh, God—no, not God—oh, SATAN, it was monstrously big! In so far! So thick! Holly shook helplessly. She rocked on the bar top as she was abused by the giant implement strapped to Donna's pounding, flexing loins, and by Frank's large real penis as he ravaged her mouth. Donna held Holly by the waist. She leaned forward. Her face was close to Frank's. She panted, "Take off your mask, Daddy. Kiss me."
He tore away the plastic gargoyle face. He arched over Holly's body. His hips kept moving. He met his daughter's hot, soft, yielding, hungry mouth. Donna and Frank moaned and gasped. Their tongues played. Their mouths sought to devour and suck. They drank each other's saliva, each other's depravity.
Donna slid her lips aside for a few seconds. She hissed, "Throat fuck her. Come! Come as we kiss!" Then the burning flower of her mouth resumed its feverish, passionate leeching.
Frank obeyed. He was on the edge of climax. How sweet to be told to give in to a savage yearning. There was nothing but his restraint keeping him from plunging all the way—forcing into Holly's defenseless throat, to her palate and further. He saw Donna thrusting the dildo into Holly's engorged vagina to an unbelievable depth. The thing had to be at least a foot long, and most of it was wet with her juices, most of it disappeared into the spasming belly with each lunge of Donna's naked hips. He heard Holly's grunting and felt her mouth tense and relax. He quivered on the brink of ecstasy. His hands tightened on Holly's head. He keened as he madly kissed his daughter, as her mouth became a lasciviously wet, hot, moving, exquisitely soft world.
Frank yielded and plunged—plunged—until he was buried, until he felt the sharp pressure of her teeth against his pubes and his scrotum pressed against her nose. He reared and plunged! He opened his mouth wide to encompass all of Donna's magic mouth. His guts boiled. He spurted! He spurted! He spurted!