decay,

where noble virtue withers and betray?

Raphael: A dream of blooming spring, dearest Edith. Let every nerve of yours my touch pervade. Surrender to sensations, wild and free, as my fingers explore your being, endlessly.

Andre (mumbling): My loins throb with a torturous desire. It yearns for more, a blaze that won''t expire.

Raphael (raising the short whip and lashing Edith''s buttocks): It seems mere fleshly torment won''t appease our lofty leader.

Edith: Raphael! You beast! Marquis de Sade''s disciple!

Raphael: To live up to that title, I shall strive, employing all means to pleasure and deprive. Now, sit atop him, my nymph, sublime, my wanton goddess, my captive divine.

Andre: In fiery suction at last, I tremble and quiver,

From her sweet fountain, a stream does deliver.

Ah, my beloved, shower me with your nectar pure,

Let your lucid lewdness upon my body obscure.

Raphael (breathing heavily): Such beauty unfolds, angels once chaste, now in my presence, debauchery embraced! I, too, can no longer resist the swell, longing for release, an ecstatic spell!

Edith: Ah, what is this? A sudden intoxication, an enchanting illusion, soul''s elation? I feel my lover clutching me tight, warm, viscous droplets upon my back alight. And I ascend to an uncharted height!

Andre: The pleasure of sin has left me dazed, lying on the ground, thoughts erased, desires razed.

Raphael: Lady Liberty, you''ve set my heart astir, with joys bestowed, near breathless I confer. Just the