cabinets on each. It is a harvest day, a day when anything can go wrong. But everything goes like clockwork. An endless stream of paying interested customers passes through the doors of the company. Coming out on the porch of the building, they happily smile, devastated, but satisfied, left a gift - the luggage of Knowledge - will go to the Bowl in the evening during the graduation ceremony.

The Bowl of Knowledge is filled to the brim. Five girls otpahali twelve hours each, to achieve such a result. Thousands of unfamiliar men gave away a time-sustained seed, now collected in one porcelain Grail.

It is time for new concubines to pass the ritual of Initiation. They matured to replace the old generation, entered the world of Slavery through the doors of the debauchery, repaired in the walls of the gym.

The girl who dreamed of a prince on a white Mercedes, Vika, climbs the platform first. In the motions of the wheat blonde, there was no arrogance left, a pretty face stood helpfully waiting for instructions. Pitchers have worked for glory: a slim athletic body has found a weary slouch. The faded yellowish marks left by the fingers gripped on the thighs, broken red knees, testify to the intense sports activities in recent times. But today, her practice is coming to an end. Today Vika will taste the Knowledge from the Chalice for the first time in order to move to the Higher League.

- Do you swear, Slave Victoria, to serve Dmitry until the end of your days, until death do you part? - The priest inspires the Slave to serve until the end of her days, so that she will not have any illusions, a light of hope, warming in a rebellious soul. After five years, the vessel that has been dredged out will be cut down for health reasons and thrown into the garbage of life, but in the meantime she thinks that she will be buzzing forever.

“I swear,” says yesterday's glamorous fool, today's self-contained, overwhelmed by the circumstances of the awakened lust, beauty.

- Swallow.

It is applied to the Chalice, in large gulps draws in white clots of Knowledge. Rhythmic contractions of the throat symbolize the transition of the Past to Eternity. The bowl is drained by a quarter, this is a faceted glass according to my humble estimates.

I stand side by side in a Klyuchnik mask with the same long nose as that of the Priest, but not constrained by clothes.

Vika laces up the vagina. The closure ritual evokes the most contradictory feelings in it. At last, she thinks, she will be able to take a break from the violence produced by the dock lecturers at the non-ridiculous trainees. But how will the relationship with the new Klyuchnik, which may be stingy on contacts. That is the question. Unfed Lyudochka-cannibal, sitting on a chain in the waiting room at the polkan Khomich, is a direct confirmation of this.

Finally, the spring, crushing the vagina with a new technique, is cross-tucked into the fresh piercing holes. The ruby ​​lock-heart, inherited by the dried butterfly, is set into the clitoris. Click, and Vika pupa spreads its wings.

My dick is charged with a three-day abstinence required for participle. Vika sticks with full dedication, it depends on this blowjob whether I will be supportive of her. She looks into the eyes with an ingratiating look, swallows a limp sausage to the ground, helping with her hand, sits down with her mouth, avoiding tooth fairies as she was taught. Tilts his head slightly, covering his eyelids, smacking his lips, pulling in his cheeks, as if sucking on a sweet lollipop. Only Angela gladly sucks my dick, other girls prefer to immediately proceed to the narcotic effect.Vika pulls his hand under him, fingers twitches a new lock, rubbing the area of ​​the clitoris. Also in vain focus to create a visual effect "you feel good, I'm even better." Heart jumps a bell at the base of the pubis.

She quickly brings me to the severity of the eggs, deliberately pauses before the final acceleration, finally, aggressively pulls out the remnants of resistance from me.

I finish soundlessly and thickly. Pour a full tank of sperm in a greedy mouth. Klyuchnik’s seed rushes to the concubine’s throat in the stomach, where thousands of lessons learned from yesterday’s butterflies in the Wirex Building are comfortably located.

***

Four new concubines have replaced the outgoing summer. The butterflies fell asleep, dissolved in the ether of the universe, passing on the Knowledge gathered, bit by bit, to the younger generation of pupae barely spreading their wings.

I added trouble with a new girl. She, like Yulia, thrashed mostly young self-confident majors, who know a lot about elite entertainment, arrogant enough to drive to the beauty, who don’t spare money for poaching crazy BDSM scrambles.

It just didn't work that way. The girls fought off obtrusive sentences, guided not by money, but by lust. This infuriated beta males, alpha majors. Female inaccessibility, along with indiscriminate permissiveness, unkindness, financial implications enraged the mama sons traveling to Ferrari. They did not float brain sales, girls openly surrendered for the loot, ostensibly at the behest of the owner, who rents a whore. So it worked: the major paid money for sex, representing himself as a participant in someone else's game of a prostitute. Given the meager earnings of Virex distributors, this legend was not much different from the truth.

Relations between Klyuchnik hardly be called ideal. Many years later, having become acquainted with the features of the criminal world, I saw the resemblance of Klyuchnik with Thieves in the Law. Slave-owners handed over their shares to the obshchak, kept the fighters, did not work, were not married. Religion, developed by Pozner, - the Law - gave Klyuchnik the moral right to decide the fate of innocent beauties. Authoritative Klyuchnik, such as Ryzhenkov and Khomich held on to power and strength. Muller suppressed the intellect with psychological rebuses, he could omit in two accounts. Posner - the most respected Klyuchnik - did not need protection. His power emanated from the heart, a worm-dried dried apple that went over to the side of absolute evil. He could chide, praise, everyone was looking for the approval of the philosopher, because Posner's methods differed from the general ideas of drawing benefits from the girl. He destroyed the soul of a slave, not the body.

Nobody took me seriously, sympathy for slaves on my part caused contempt and ridicule.

“Young green,” Muller said, grinning, watching me take the harem twice a day to the rest room. I served all five locks in one go. The girls sat in a row on the table priests, sometimes became cancer. Without removing clothes, exposing only the genitals, we rubbed pubes. I was looking for full contact of the Ring with the tender flesh of the vaginas. So the girls were discharged in turn, all five. Fell on the tables, with blissful glances, loving smiles, frozen on sad faces. My dick expired at that moment with female juices, it was like a stone. The ring pinched veins, holding back the flow of blood. I never ended up with slaves, kept an orgasm for Angela, thereby expressing loyalty to the big girl.

“I am a slave to the Ring,” I gradually resigned myself to the thought. “Slaves serve customers, I serve slaves.”

The project "Zlata" failed. The mechanical, memorized love of the zombie girl did not find a response in the experimental lover's heart, he threw it, rolling a scandal, accusing it of insensitivity. Armenian woman was upset that she could not fulfill the assignment, returned to me with tears and dumb question "What to do next?"

- What do you think? - I answered irritably.

She pretended to think, although she knew the answer beforehand.

“I can try with different guys,” she suggested quietly.- If one does not work, I'll try with the other.

- At the same time, what?

- Yes. I think it will be better, ”she brightened, as if I had told her a reasonable plan.

“Do what you want,” I growled.

So Zlata began to turn the novel with several guys at once. This did not give her a reason to get rid of the drug addiction that binds us. On the contrary, the three guys who fucked her all day long, not knowing about the existence of each other, teased the Armenian woman even more.

“Why are you telling me all this?” - I asked the chernyavka during short narcotic meetings.

“You wanted me to have a boyfriend,” she was scared that she was doing something wrong.

- One, but not three.

- Do you want me to throw two?

I paused, thinking about possible moves. There was still hope that Zlata was happy experiencing triple sex drive.

- Do you like one or three more?

Questions about "like" always brought the Armenian woman into a stupor. Answering, she tried to guess what I liked.

“I like being happy when they love me,” she answered uncertainly. - The more love in life, the better.

I laughed, solving the mystery of the ambiguous answers.

Dosage experiments yielded monstrous results. I wrapped a part of the Ring with adhesive tape before pairing with Zlata. And then the girl pripevochka, spool named Babich, went into the lead. Judging by her report, she spent a whole week nymphomaniac in a terrible way, looking for love on the street. Only unfamiliar men loved her twenty times a day. Affected network marketing experience. Zlata quickly entered into trust, she lied that her husband had left, and she was bored. Immediately she invited me to a rented apartment, for half an hour she pumped all the love out of the peasant, took the phone for a new date and threw the empty male out onto the street. Under the pretext of slight indisposition, she refused to go to the cinema, offering her regular partners to get down to business right away. For seven days, her beautiful baby vagina became inflamed and looked like a pus-flowing flower. Labia opened, covered with bruises.

I was scared and put everything back in its place. The search for a clue to the action of the drug stalled. The big girl who came to Virex not much earlier than me showed more and more fatigue and signs of wear.

The situation seemed hopeless in all respects, until one day six months after the significant coronation-banding I did not meet with Chemist - the most mysterious and terrible recluse Kluchek, the founding father of Virex, who launched an hour-long sex bomb into Belarusian fragile society.