turquoise, fading with time, more and more reminiscent of the male seed, which I once exuded love. My girls swallow dense streams, lick each other, helping to deal with the remnants of the chest and lips. Already sitting down on the bed, I understand that Angie received a turquoise charge from Alena.

- Alain, - whispering through a cloud of sleep.

- Mmm? - the redhead responds.

- Ask Angie who she loves more: you or me?

Alyona giggles.

- Angie, who do you love more: me or Dima?

“I love both of you,” the big girl smiles as she woke. Both of them are good, you will not achieve serious conversation from them, especially now. Sometimes it seems to me that there is no dependence, turquoise nonsense and servility. The line between one's own will and imposed from outside is erased under the onslaught of love, trust, friendship.

###

Nothing foreshadowed the collapse of the Wyrex. Overnight, the Knochnikov pimp network formed into a cobweb like a house of cards, collapsed into the trash. We arrived at the head office on Tuesday. In the morning, the day after the significant dedication of Khomich to the guardians of the blue faith, Alyona Dast and the girls fully armed appeared before the two luminaries of Wyrex - the rights of the rights Muller and the brain therapist Posner. Now nothing threatened us. The power of the law abiding passed to our side. Besides, we had something to show.

“Take off your clothes,” the redhead said tiredly.

- Maybe you still give the keys to the safe, where the money is? - Muller angrily neighing. In the breaks to try to call the guard, he threw fierce glances in my direction. I remained indifferent. The fate of the leaders of the gang was sealed, I had to watch the fall of Olympus. The girls came to omit yesterday's bosses, did it freely, without any modesty. Margot already pulled a huge strepon, Angie also bought a toy with sharp protrusions on the end, like a mace.

“I have the keys,” I jiggled the bundle in my pocket. - It remains a small formality.

“I always treated you well,” Posner awoke.

On his pale face, I read a quiet horror, a secret jaundice under the mask of indifference.

The evil grin stretched across my lips:

- I'm afraid this is not enough to learn how to fly.

Beauty Wendy, the same Nastya with garlands of chocolate hair, takes a step forward. She also brought a present for daddy: thirty-five centimeters of black corrugated plastic realistically stick out of the triangular base on the hips.

The guards knit two old fart with the speed of mating knots with a dog: the coordinated actions of the guys taught by bitter experience are striking with a guarantee of results. Two hairy pale ass - one flabby, Muller, the other bony, Posner - doomedly frozen over the table top. Klyuchnik’s jaws are widely crushed by red balls pulled by leather straps. The red-haired beast performs the rite of familiarization. Muller's piggy eyes roll out of orbit at the sight of non-female flesh, prick eyes drenched for work. Posner naslyunivannym ball falls on the surface of the table, his moo becomes dreary.

- Suffer a little, - Alena murmurs, at the same time lubricating hairy ass goose fat. Her finger dives into the anus, then acts as an expander. A minute later, the red panther takes the first Klyuchnik. Muller beats in a fit of an orgasm without hands and touches, his eyes on the outcrops, as expected, change the shine from fierce to affectionate.Alena with a flowing bayonet goes to the second anus. A bony ass is cracking at the seams from a surprise attack. Tears flow down the cheeks of distraught Mikhail Gromyko. He was not so imagined as retirement. The pension does not threaten him now, the girls reserved a rich program for the theologian of the Seven Keys sect.

Finally plastic strapons come into play. Beauties "Wirex" finish off the newly minted whores for the rest. Tomorrow Misha and Pasha will go to work. Earn on sales of mineral supplements no one forbade. In the meantime, they are sweetly moaning under the joyful grunting of the liberated slaves.

I'm leaving, tightly closing the door behind me. My role of looking at today was peacefully resolved by another communion.

24

Veniamin Dyrko did not completely believe in the collapse of the sect, continuing to torture virgins for hours, forcing them to serve at the altar. One of his latest innovations was the idea of ​​the end of the world and the need to transfer as much energy as possible to each other before this happens. To enhance the impact, the transfer of energy proceeded in a circular fashion. “Circular duty”, as the released girl explained to me later, was simultaneous anal-vaginal stimulation. Having fastened straponons on their hips, the girls lay down on the floor and closed the circle, in the center of which the insane Dyrko read Old Testament stories related to slavery and violence. Apparently, such an approach to the ministry helped him to discharge into the Chalice with greater dedication. He stood undressed, with an uncovered head. On the lectern in front lay the self-published “Book of the Seven Keys,” proclaimed the absolute truth. One of the concubines, while reading, gently decanted the seed of the High Priest into the Bowl, while the virgins lying around on the floor made themselves orgasms over and over again. The obvious relationship between moving forward and personal pleasure dull their attention to the world around them. They fully concentrated on the personal perception of what is happening.

- It was nirvana. Orgasm without beginning and end, - confessed to me one of the victims after.

Approximately in this position we forced all honest company, when, having established a new power and order in the office, we ran into the Temple.

On the marble slabs in a circle, they were located in the pose of an embryo of the Vestalka-virgin - the last stronghold of the sect. In the center, under the loud moans of slaves, Venia Dyrko, driven to pre-orgasmic torture, stretched insane speeches, raising her hands to the glass dome. An employee of manual labor strenuously tried to wake the sexual instinct in a sluggish tail, personifying the only male element in the Temple. Driven to despair by the impossibility of resolution, Venya Dyrko did not notice our silent penetration into the Ritual Hall. In the next moment, the newly-converted keymaster-jock Ryzhenkov personally carried out the sentence of the Hostess of the copper stick:

- No one to spare. Bring down all. Connect and wait for my arrival.

By the time Alyona Dast proceeded to the Ritual Hall in a light terry robe, Venya Dyrko was already lying on all fours, completely immobilized and resigned to the fate of a prisoner of conscience. His communion to the new faith lasted at least half an hour, the concubines on the floor accompanied the action with loud genuine moans. Venya himself was not against such accompaniment in the Garden of Eden of sexual pleasures. The scanty knowledge that he had spewed out in the Chalice became a superfluous evidence of this.

Over the immodest two months, during which an avalanche-like revolution in the sect set new priorities in its own way, I learned not to intervene in the natural course of events.

“Still, Chemist was not a fool, once he created a snake antidote,” I thought. - Perhaps this is the only way to spread the plague. The wedge is knocked down with a wedge, ”I finally concluded.

My policy of non-interference was the simple provision of my partner’s freedom of expression. The basic instinct prevailed over the bounds of decency, and Alyona, acting on a whim, promptly erected around herself the unbreakable threads of a new sect.She became the ancestor, bee-maid, the only queen in a mura-order with a matriarchal form of government. I gradually went into the shadows. The length of my member, invariably diminishing to its original size, as well as the decrease in turquoise concentration in sperm testified to the complete and unconditional transfer of power by peaceful inheritance.

I was still present at events of a different order, as a gray cardinal I participated in planning the seizure and retention of the rebellion, but my role invariably subsided, becoming insignificant. I increasingly played the role of coordinator-conductor, and not the main organizer-initiator, as I imagined myself at the very beginning.

I left the sect, leaving her in safe hands. Believing that the next transfer of power will occur no less colorful, just as predictable, and therefore the peaceful coexistence of gender in society will not lose its meaning.

The girls of the sect got rid of dependence, dissolved in everyday life. Sometimes I met them on the street. A strange cold and elusive contempt flared in the eyes of the followers of the Seven Keys sect who recognized me. After many years, their memory still kept an unforgivable scar of humiliation, with which my connection was mediated, and therefore insignificant. And yet they don’t need extra witnesses of depraved youth; graduates avoid contact with the past.

All but Angela. The big girl, having given up her addiction, broke a little before she agreed to become my wife. I had to roll up to a big mom with a gift in the form of a big box of chocolates. Only in this way was I able to appease my future mother-in-law, the grandmother of my children.

Epilogue

A stream of people carries me along a branching transition. I am in a hurry to work. Somewhere ahead there is a fancy baritone:

- Sorry, you do not have a minute of free time to answer a couple of questions?

- Thank you! - sighs a lady in a trouser suit for the entire transition. - Well, you all got me! Am I more like the others like an idiot? - she pleas on heels from the unlucky schemer, who is already looking for the next victim.

- Young man, maybe you deign to participate in the action of unprecedented generosity, answering only two questions?

I finally come face to face with Pavel Valerievich. He is very old, emaciated and haggard. Began a campaign on a fat parrot, collapsed from a tree head down. Scanty gray hair and eyebrows stick out in all directions in shreds, the suit is completely dented, an awkward tie stuck out his tongue outside, as if choking with insolvency.

- Oh, it's you ... - 17 seconds sighs disappointedly. His gaze is covered with a veil of helplessness. Muller turns around, looking for someone in the crowd. I notice other schemers. Full-grown and not very, they pinch the people along the entire length of the transition, corpse the game for the preparation of the brain.

My brain has long been melted. From one type of network of marketers, abandoned in a staggered manner into an underground passage, I am ready to run headlong to wherever my eyes are. And only the restraint of manners, developed lately, and a slight raid of indifference make me change the record and act prudently.

“Fuck you in the ass! Sectarians are crap! ”- I walk around the converts in an arc, afraid to get infected.