Weekend orgy

EPILOGUE

The Count and Countess LeBarron stood on the front veranda of the huge house as the big limousine, carrying their guests, slid down the long, angular drive. They waved and spoke complacently to each other as the car turned out of the gate and headed for the main highway.

"How soon," said the Countess, "do you suppose they'll be back?"

"I rather imagine," replied the Count, "that it will be at least a month."

"Really?"

"Of course, my dear," he said. "You should know that by now. They will all shun their past lives for at least two weeks. Out of guilt, or shame, or just fear. And then, suddenly, they will have that driving urge to return and take part in our little game and they will realize that they must have the money in order to do it."

"Did you explain the rules to them?"

"Oh, yes," he replied, "of course. Explicitly. And at two thousand dollars per weekend, they'll have to return to their old vices… and lives. They each came to me individually, of course. They didn't want the others to know that they were perverted enough to actually enjoy such weekends. No, my dear, there is no doubt about any of them. They will all be back, and they will all pay."

"Good," she smiled. "Shall we go up and give thanks?"

"Yes," he said, smiling and taking her arm. "Everything should be ready by now."

They disrobed as they ascended the stairs to the attic room. By the time they stepped into the room and approached the altar, they were completely naked.

The young girl, Connie, had already made all the arrangements for them by the time they arrived.

The Count lifted the top of the altar and took from it the huge, flaming red replica of the master's thorned penis.

He stood at the altar with the huge cock raised in supplication above his head and intoned.

"Ohhhhh, Satan, master of the depths of darkness… giver of eternal life and sexual master of us all… thank you for your bountiful gifts and welcome the new ones you have sent to join us. Accept the offering we have given you in mutual sacrifice. And welcome all their gifts soon to come, that your work may be carried on by us, your faithful servants. Ohhhhh, Satan, Lucifer, keeper of the depths of hell, let us serve you and prove our worth to you."

As the echo of his words died out in the room, he jammed downward with the huge phallus and buried it between his wife's outspread legs. She, in turn, encircled it with her hands, and it took on a life of its own, as a strange, red glow filled the room and she engulfed herself in receiving the ultimate sex it gave her.

At the same time the Count turned back to the altar where the blonde child had lain, with her legs widely spread.

"And now my gift… Master?"

The young girl spoke in a low, rolling, husky voice, its timbre echoing throughout the room.

"Here is your gift, my slave. Take it!"

The girl spread the tender lips of her naked cunt, revealing the raw redness of her newly formed hymen.

The Count placed the head of his cock at the girl's cunt-mouth.

As he shoved forward, splitting the already bloody hymen, he shouted: "For the love of Lucifer!"