In the ritual hall of the Temple of the Seven Keys service is held under the singing of monks, recorded on CD-ROM. The groans of the guilty concubine, violating the idyll of the sacrament, are real. A slender black-browed girl, an Armenian, as the High Priest affectionately calls her, crouched in a corner of the Tiger Cell suspended from the ceiling.

“Please,” the girl wheezes with cracked lips, frantically rubbing her bleeding clit. She casts a blurred look down to the altar, the place where the initiation ceremony takes place.

Four neophytes lay flat on the marble floor, stretching out their hands to the Bowl of Knowledge, leaving Vaz to the Key to the viewers.

My blue limp body is brought into the hall when everything is ready for communion, pulled past the concubines, is fixed in the Altar.

It will take me time to wake up. A piercing female cry will bring back lost memory.

***

Consciousness layers manifest through the shroud of sleep. I shudder, twitch. Dozens of belts entangle the body, leaving no chance for release. Sounded chants are heard around, a white bowl floats before my eyes. My shaved genitals hang into her. I lie in the confinement of a black ceramic cube, only a member, scrotum and head stick out. The wall of the cube in place of the chest is painted with sparkling white script. Slowly translate the sleepy look at a male figure, standing two meters away from me, watching me. This is a short man in a black velvet cassock, a hat with a long brim, a golden mask with a long, beak like an elephant's tusk.

- Who you are? What would you like? - I try to hide the panic in my voice.

The mask turns away. Around on the floor in the pose of the embryo are naked girls. In the twilight, shadows move in masks and cloaks. The whole hall, the size of an assembly, has a round shape, a domed glass ceiling, and colonnades around the perimeter. Soft copper light emanates from the chandelier under the dome.

“This is all his fault, kill him,” a torn female voice wheezes like a curse of a witch from the far end of the hall.

I notice a cell under the ceiling, a childish trembling figure in it, completely naked, black hair disheveled on the shoulders, eyes burning with a feverish shine. Her gaze, full of hatred, is directed straight at me. She sits, legs apart, and wildly masturbating.

- Zlata, what ... what's wrong with you? What are they going to do? - I nervously swallow.

Zlata rolls hysterical laughter:

“You still don't understand, idiot?” Do you really think they will make you a key keeper?

Her mad laughter, turning into sobs, chaotic movements with her hand, makes the blood in my veins run cold. A choking attack, horror, paralyzing the body, cover me, shut off the mind, leaving only animal instincts and the desire to escape at any cost.

***

I could shout at that moment, start calling for help, swearing. I barely restrained myself from looking like a girl. A nervous lump came to my throat.

“It is not known how this hysteria will turn out for me,” I thought. “They will either kill me, or cripple me, or all at once.” Perhaps I will only pour oil on the fire, and death will be painful. ”

I made a terrible mistake by trusting Muller, getting into his car.

That evening, lying on the ceramic plate of the Altar, I sincerely repented that I had not managed to do a single good deed in my life. Cases that are not ashamed to remember before dying. I felt sorry for my brother, inconsolable parents, imagined how they had been searching for years for the missing son, hoping until his death that he would return.I felt sorry for myself, my ruined youth, unfulfilled dreams, love for Angela.

The redhead brought the Guillotine, fixed it on the Altar. Stretched penis and scrotum through a round hole, removed the fuse. She did all these actions with the same imperturbable indifference with which she had previously scraped hair in her groin.

The guillotine mechanism is extremely simple and predictable in its performance. Sharp as a razor, heavy blade charged for a blow, comparable to the blow of an ax, secant head. The steel cable that executes the execution stretches from the lever of the Guillotine to the tight ring on the member of the victim. Doomed to a terrible execution, unwittingly, with the root cuts off the genitals as soon as the level of arousal reaches a critical one.

I understood all this as soon as I saw the mechanism under me. The rubber ring was firmly seated on the penis, and I had no choice but to close my eyes and pray.

***

Cold wet fingers take the head, gently pull off the skin, nails scratch the bottom, squeeze the testicles, play with them in the giveaway.

Four goddesses, completely naked, shaved, unclosed, come to me in turn. Their cold hands are becoming softer, warmer, more desirable, bolder, more persistent, more emotional each time.

I do not see them. Only once, at the very beginning, when a masked man ordered slaves to rise from the floor, I ventured to look at them with one eye, which I immediately regretted. Their naked, gorgeous bodies, swaying breasts, lush thick hair and sad faces of amazing beauty were imprinted deep in their minds, remembered as a terrible curse.

I believe that they are witches, that perdition hides death. My dick slips into pus, feces. I am deep in the slush, shit, a fresh, rushing stream rushes from the top of a round hole of the toilet directly at me, brown diarrhea beats in the mouth, clogged in the eyes, nostrils. I swallow it, crush, burp, swallow again, I can not breathe, only mucus green snot, vomit of drunks, pus syphilitic, otkharknuty tuberculosis sputum envelops me from head to toe, eats into the penis, flows into the urethra, disintegrates in the urine. larvae.

***

My cock stretched, rang out wide, but still languidly dangled like a worm. Later, I came to the conclusion that I have an amazing ability of autohypnosis. My brain was disconnected from reality, external stimuli disappeared, I myself disappeared from the face of the earth, my soul was transferred to another place and time, and nothing could bring me back, even the most outspoken touch with my tongue. I no longer bathed in shit. My fantasy was transferred to the river, from cold water my whole body was covered with goose bumps, my teeth were drummed. Biting my tongue, I was trembling, cold in the cold, absolutely naked. He jumped into the hole again and again, until the numbed limbs lost contact with his head. There was not a single warm thought in my head, the endless snowy desert stretched before my eyes, and there was no hint of life in the Polar region.

The girls puffed for at least half an hour. Blowjob was useless, besides extremely ineffective. Then they went to a hard handjob. In turn, they drove a sluggish member to a disgrace quickly and strongly, coming in from the side to take more comfortable. But whatever they did, whatever manipulations they carried out, I remained mute to women's pleas.

Unexpectedly, raped, weakened, I gave up on the other side and finished heavily. The sweet irritation of the flaccid penis reached its apogee, involuntary cuts of the cam under the anus pumped the sperm from the testicles directly into the Chalice of Knowledge.

Everything froze, stopped half a step from the abyss. The member was left alone, the fuss around stopped. Even the sounds of a blizzard in the Arctic disappeared somewhere.

I opened my eyes. The girls looked at me in amazement. The High Priest squeezed between them and brought a huge nose to my face:

- It's you? He asked in a strange crazy voice.

“Yes,” I responded dully.

“Untie him,” with shaking hands, the Priest took the Chalice and almost stuck his nose into it.

The redhead came running, carefully, so as not to get hurt, took off the Guillotine.The indifference on her face was replaced by suspicion. She stared at me all the time while working, asking dumb questions. What - I did not understand. The same guards in hockey masks climbed onto the platform, pushed Altar doors, unfastened their belts.

I almost collapsed when the body lost support. I stood the same blue, swaying, indifferently ...