"Gang bang sisters" - читать интересную книгу автора (Mason Calvin)

CHAPTER THREE

Surprisingly, Tom enlisted Jay Schmidtline to help him decorate the store. A convenient puppet to run errands, help hang the black-and-orange crepe paper along the walls, and any other odd jobs, "the brain" wanted done. It was Jay who was sent out to find a cardboard box that could be made into a coffin. It took three evenings, after working all day, to go from store to store in the shopping areas of Maspeth and Ridgewood, before he found a suitable box.

Since it was too big to take on the bus, he had to carry the awkward container about a mile and a half. Then he was dismissed and Tom put the finishing touches on the room.

By seven-thirty that Saturday night, everyone was gathered in front of the store. Kids were running up and down the streets dressed in costumes. The members of the club decided to move to the back entrance to get away from the wild kids on the streets. After the introductions were made the girls chatted nervously in one group, while the guys chain-smoked and joked in another.

Two additional Schmidtlines were present; nineteen-year-old brother Hans and their sister Gloria. The Schmidtlines had one thing in common – none of them looked alike. Hans was six-foot-three, lean, with rodent-like features. Gloria was much prettier than Cynthia; not as tail, but more feminine. And while Cynthia kept her long brown hair straight to the shoulder, Gloria's blonde hair was short and wavy. Jay, Cynthia and Hans had dark-brown eyes, Gloria had soft blue eyes.

The other new guests included a couple Charles had invited; his sister Kay brought a girlfriend; and Ed's cousin, Ann, brought a girlfriend. But the biggest surprise to the group was the presence of Margaret Leche, who must have arrived with Tom, since she was the first one there and gave them last-minute instructions about their behavior. A typical Margaret Leche habit anyway, which they all hated her for. They also despised her short, squat build that she carried like a muscle-bound truck driver. Rumor had it that she was a bull dyke, but no one had any evidence to prove it. It didn't matter anyway, since rumors circulated about all members of the Leche family. The mother was called "Crazy Mary"; the father was singled out as "the meanest man in Ridgewood"; and even Margaret's sister was said to be a tramp. So the Leche family stuck together, and even though there was an age difference of eleven years between Margaret and Stella, they were always seen together.

Margaret blocked the back door until precisely eight o'clock, then opened the door and gave the order to enter. At ten after eight she told Ed to lock the door.

"Okay, you guys," she barked, "in to the dressing room and don't dilly-dally."

The men shuffled into the adjoining room.

At exactly eight-twenty she opened the door and herded the girls into the now-vacant dressing room. Her hawk-eyes guaranteed the complete disrobing of the girls, which made them leery of her real reason for watching. Even the girls that didn't know her felt uneasy.

Draped from the neck down in their cone-shaped robes, fastened at the neck with a single clasp, they filed into the next room with the men. A muffled giggle went through the group at the sight of stark white faces floating on black teepees. All talking was in the kind of whispers reserved for church. Most of the guys puffed nervously on cigarettes that Ed Cramer had the foresight to carry into the waiting room. Since it was almost time to enter the Mass, the girls took drags from the lit cigarettes.

For the next five minutes the group just stood in silence, staring at each other, some considering the reason they were attending this fiendish meeting, while others wondered what devious plans Tom Dunn would impose on them. The dead silence was short-lived; the crash of pins rang out below as the league started to bowl. Nervous laughs went around the room and a few more cigarettes were lit. Even Margaret Leche was beginning to show nervousness now.

At eight forty-five a small brass bell sounded; three district rings; then the door opened. The crowd looked into a seemingly black room.

"Enter," a voice ordered. Even straining for a deep, solemn tone, it was recognized as Tom's.

Another moment of hesitation before Jay Schmidtline, feigning confidence, swaggered toward the door. Cynthia quickly caught up to him and entered with at least the protection of her big brother. The others filed in behind them. The smell of incense immediately choked off any giggles or levity. It burned their nostrils and brought the group to a sense of serious alertness.

Slowly their eyes adjusted to the darkness and they could distinguish Tom Dunn's face, which seemed to hang between two candle flames. Closer examination revealed the black candles, the lectern which Tom was standing behind, and a bulky object on the floor in front of the lectern. They formed a semicircle around the form, which someone identified in a whisper as a coffin. They stared into Tom's face.

"Welcome, my brothers and sisters, to Satan's Black Mass." Tom's voice was back to normal, but his sinister grin and sparkling eyes sent a chill up the backs of everyone that knew him. They knew he was capable of dreaming up sordid games, having seen him in action before, and that grin was always the tip-off.

"Let's all bow our heads and pray to the Angel of Evil… our beloved Satan…"

The cadence was familiar, but the words seemed to be jibberish. Only Charles Krauss recognized what Tom was doing… saying the Lord's Prayer with the words backward! At the conclusion Charles surprised himself, as well as the others by saying aloud and in unison with Tom: "Nema."

"We are gathered here tonight to dedicate ourselves to Satan. We will make our offerings and sacrifices to become his faithful servants."

From under the lectern he produced an object draped in black cloth, then proceeded to ceremoniously remove and fold the cloth. The exposed chalice strongly resembled the bowling trophy from the display window next door. He lifted it high and announced: "This is the blood of the sacrificed, virgin, oh Satan. Whosoever drinks from this cup shall be purged from all cleanliness of mind and soul, becoming your faithful follower."

He lifted the cup with both hands and drank. A problem presented itself; every time both hands were out of the cape, his body was exposed! Behind the lectern no one could see, but he certainly didn't want to expose himself to the gins too soon and possibly lose his grip on the ceremony. He stalled for a few moments, pretending to be taking a big drink, and decided he'd have to get someone else to help him serve the congregation.

"Sister Margaret… please approach the altar." When she was by his side he took the chalice with one hand and presented it to her. His eyes widened as she took the heavy cup with both hands, revealing large, tight-nippled breasts, a fat stomach and dark shadows. No detail at all in the shadows, he realized.

"Drink, my daughter, and join the ranks of Satan's Apostles."

Margaret drank the wine and was handing back the chalice when he whispered, "You'll serve with me. Just hand each one the cup and I'll follow with the candle."

He took a lit candle and the two approached the circle.

Ann's girlfriend was first, and as she took the cup Tom lowered the candle about even with his chest… there was light in the shadows!

"The Devil smiles on all those who drink from the cup of evil," he chanted. Now he wandered if his damn hard-on was poking its head out!

One by one they drank from the cup, while Tom and Margaret eyed their naked bodies. All cocks were shriveled, Tom noticed, a sign that he had them nervous.

That finished, he returned to the lectern and replenished the wine in the cup, announcing, "Now that you have sipped the blood of the sacrificed virgin we are all united under Satan. And by his will the virgin will arise."

A blue spotlight from one corner of the room and a red spotlight from another splashed light on the coffin. Dramatically, the lid began to rise by itself. Everyone took a step backward. Slowly it opened, revealing the form of a girl laid out in a black cape.

Margaret smiled proudly at the sight of her sister in the coffin. Kay Krauss realized now what had happened to the sixteenth cape she had made. And Stella played the role of a corpse with seriousness – staring wide-eyed at the ceiling.

"Rise now, daughter of Satan. Virgin no more."

Stella stood in the box and Tom came to help her step out. The cover was dropped and Stella was helped up on what was now the stage. On cue she placed her arms out straight and they all fixed their eyes on her body. Small, just-blooming breasts, flat stomach, and triangle of… no wait, there was hair, but it was powdered white. So was her entire body.

Tom ran an open hand over her small breasts – her nipples quivered – down her stomach and between her legs. Stepping back he signaled to Margaret to come forward and said, "Touch the child of Satan."

Margaret had difficulty keeping the grin off her face as she ran her hands down Stella's front and between her legs. Next was Charles, who was visibly shaking as he extended his hand to touch the powder-smooth skin of the lean girl, who stood straight and proud before him. His hand slid gently over the extended, tight-nippled tits and down her silky stomach, paused briefly and then slipped between her legs. A hint of dampness greeted his fingers, sending chills through him.

Stella also began to enjoy the great attention and lingering hands of these admirers. But Margaret had warned her about the dirty things men would try to do to her, so she just paid attention and waited. For the most part, the girls touched her quickly and moved away. Jay Schmidtline took the longest, feeling each tit sensuously and letting his hand linger between her legs, his fingers probing at the crevice in the rear. Juices tingled in her virgin cunt and she pressed hard on the palm of his hand to relieve some of the itch.

As soon as everyone had a turn, the chalice was passed around and everyone drank deeply.

Tom took Stella's arm and assisted her from the stage, turned to face the group and stood motionless as Stella parted his cloak and ran her hands down his chest. All eyes watched intently as she reached the upright cock and slowly stroked the smooth long rod. Then she turned from Tom and repeated the ritual on the others.

Up to now it was all calculated. Tom had figured from past experience that there was little hope of getting any of the girls to volunteer for the role of being the first one undressed, touched, or fucked. And until the ice was broken, there would never be any sexual activity in the group. It wasn't easy talking Margaret into letting Stella participate, but he decided that once they had all touched the girl, they couldn't very well reject being touched by her. Now, as he had promised Margaret, he must remove Stella from the center stage and replace her with one of the older girls.

"Kay Krauss," he said as Stella finished the "feeling-up" ceremony. "Please come forward." Kay stepped to the center of the group, between Tom and Stella, facing the audience. "As a member of Satan's beloved daughters, do you solemnly swear to abide by his laws and commandments?"

"Yes," she gulped.

"Step up on the coffin," he ordered. She obeyed and he prayed the reinforcements he had built into the cardboard box would support her weight. They did!

With a bit of showmanship, he stepped before her, opened the clasp and the cape dropped to her feet. Tom ran his fingers over her body, quickly at first, then slow, almost as though he were examining her for the audience.

"Bend over, please," Tom instructed, indicating that her ass was to be aimed at the viewers. She turned and bent. A white spotlight went on and the stage was now well lit. Tom spread the fat balls of flesh for all to see her small, puckered asshole. A flush of embarrassment went through Kay. Then he had her sit on the coffin and spread her legs. All eyes centered on the pink lips, which Tom spread with his fingers. Kay wanted to scream from embarrassment, but couldn't. And Tom was extremely pleased with her reaction to this ritual, which he considered an important breakthrough, shattering old taboos they had all been brought up to respect. He was sure their sex life, like his own was restricted to a single partner in a dark room: not any more!

"You have pleased Satan with your obedience," he told Kay, taking her by the hand and leading her to the center of the circle, where Stella stood holding a small jar. Ceremoniously, Tom dipped a finger in the jar and applied the purple rouge to her nipples. Another dot at the navel and a circle on her buttocks, at the approximate location of her hidden asshole.

All this attention sent tingles through Kay's body, which grew into flames when Stella began to caress her big tits. She felt the girls fingers dance down her stomach, around to her ass, back to her stomach and finally tiptoe through the hair between her legs, to tantalize those moist, pink lips. She wouldn't dare utter a sound, but her mind screamed, MORE!

While Stella continued to delight Kay, Tom brought Jay to the center and took his robe, revealing a big fat cock, oozing with anticipation. Jay sucked in his belly for the benefit of the crowd and grinned at his victim.

This was it! Kay told herself.

Tom produced a sturdy, low table and Kay was directed to sit on it. They Jay was given the "dancing finger" treatment by Stella as she led him between Kay's legs.

You could hear the panting of the other members as they watched wide-eyed. The girls all eyed the big slab of meat that was going to spear into Kay's belly, their own cunts twitching with envy. Only Stella, who wasn't yew bright anyway, watched with curiosity, wondering if Margaret wasn't even aware of her sister's presence.

Jay's body glistened with perspiration, the odor mixing with the incense and losing its sting. Kay, who was also perspiring, broke out in a cold sweat when the purple, heart-shaped head touched her dew covered cuntlips. He paused and she wrapped her chubby legs around him to pull. He pushed, she pulled.

"Ohhhh…" she moaned.

"Oh?" he groaned.

There was a wall of resistance holding back his plunge into ecstasy. The huge head quivered and lunged forward. Nothing. The third lunge drove deep into Kay's belly; she shrieked and startled everyone, but it was short-lived. The shock quickly turned to pleasure and Kay's shriek ended in, "Mmmmmmmmmm!"

The gathering sighed and grew impatient to join in the fun. They watched Jay, whose feet were still planted on the floor, reach down to fondle Kay's flattened boobs, keeping his arms straight so there would be plenty of space between their bodies for the audience to see his cock slide in and out. Kay just sucked her thumb and cooed.

Tom stepped out of the circle to do something about the heat, smoke and strong smell of incense. They were all perspiring, but not aware of their discomfort while their attention was fixed on the scene at center-stage. Rather than open the transom over the front door, which would risk having someone on the street hear or possibly see what was happening, Tom decided to open the skylight that took up a eight-by-eight foot area in the center of the store's ceiling. He had difficulty finding the chain in the dark, but once he located it and cracked open the large windows, the smoke billowed out.

Tom remained in the shadows for a while, viewing his masterpiece. The greatest show on earth, he told himself. Two people fucking! Then his eyes scanned the audience and he noticed unusual movements on some, as they watched Jay and Kay with hypnotic stares. Closer examination revealed what Margaret Leche was doing under her parted cape – probably what Hans and Gloria Schmidtline were doing too – masturbating! Do you believe it? Diddling themselves, when they could be fucking! He was pissed off.

Without saying a word, he marched over to Margaret and took off her cloak, then beckoned Hans with his finger and led them to the coffin. Margaret was positioned face down, so Hans wouldn't be turned off by her looks, her ass straight up for penetration. Hans didn't need coning; his cock ran up the dripping wet cunt so fast he lost his balance and fell on top of her. The weight crushed the coffin under them and Margaret gave out a breathless "Ohhhh…" as they fell, and… "WOW!" as they landed and she reached the best climax she'd ever known. Hans was coming when Tom turned to give directions to the others.

The couple Charles had invited was on the floor fucking between their black capes. Looked like a sandwich, Tom thought as he turned to consider Charles. Maybe later, he decided, spotting come all over Charles' cape, shoes and the floor.

Ed Cramer was taking Gloria into the shadows and Tom decided to get Cynthia now, while the getting was good. Besides, Ed's cousin, Ann, was doing her thing with the girl she had brought, and Stella was just watching everything with curiosity.

Cynthia didn't wait for Tom to get to her; she was on top of him before he knew what hit him and he found himself in a "69" position. Her wet mouth devoured his cock, while his mouth tried to get at her cunt, but she kept moving it away from his drooling lips. Then he got the picture; he spread the cheeks of her ass and sucked her tight little asshole.

"Ohhh… yehhhh," she cooed. "Make it tingle."

"Just keep suckin'. I'll make it tingle."

"Mmmmm…" she purred, filling her mouth with hot throbbing cock.

Tom curled his tongue into a point and shot it up the tight tunnel of her asshole with one fast, penetrating drive; at the other end he pumped her mouth full of sperm. Honey dripped from her cunt and trickled down his neck. As soon as the fragrance reached his nostrils he pulled back his tongue, moved her slightly and shot it into her pussy. Cynthia sucked now like someone drowning and squirmed all over his face, feeling his tongue ream the walls of oozing dew right up to her belly and into her brain.

As it turned out, only Charles didn't get laid. He dropped two loads watching though, and considered himself lucky, confident he'd make it the next time.

On the trip back to Ridgewood Tom settled into deep thought. Amateurs! Rank amateurs, that was what they were! Next week would be different… he'd see to that. No more Mr. Nice Guy!