The Devil’s Pact
Chapter 32: Decisions
edited by Master Ken
© Copyright 2013
Story Codes: Male/Female, Male/Females, Male/Female/Teen female, Female/Teen female, Female/Female, Hermaphrodite,Female, Mind Control, Magic, Female Masturbation, Oral, Toy, Incest, Orgy
For a list of all the Devil’s Pact Chapters and other stories click here
Comments are very welcome. I would like all criticism, positive and negative, so long as its
constructive, and feedback is very appreciated.
Click here for Chapter 31.
Desiree de la Fuente
I caught Alison’s eyes across the dining room, across all the shouting women.
They had just left. Mark and Mary. With a few words, I was suddenly horrified to discover I didn’t choose to be their…slut. My entire world was crumbling as I realized for the last three weeks of my life I had been a different person, a plaything for Mark and Mary. Someone to satiate their lusts and cook them food. I had always thought of myself as a strong, independent woman, not easily cowed or swayed. And yet, Mark says one word and I begged to be his whore. I shivered in disgust.
“We should call the cops,” Fiona was shouting.
“What good would that do?” Lillian demanded. “Master controls the police. Just be a good girl and calm down. You’re one of their chosen women, I don’t see what you’re all worked up about?”
Fiona flushed. “Some of us aren’t sluts who enjoy being degraded!”
Lillian’s pale face flushed with color and she screeched as she leapt at the strawberry-blonde Fiona. Noel grabbed Lillian and threw her back, standing between the two women. Fiona gave a snarl and fled the room. Alison caught my eyes and pointed upstairs. I nodded and we slipped out as Noel and Lillian started shouting at each other.
I sighed in relief as I closed the door to our bedroom. It hit me then. This was my house, and I was forced to stay in the guest bedroom. Mark and Mary stole my bedroom when they stole the house from Brandon and myself. Tears started welling up in my eyes as the full enormity of what had happened crashed into me.
“Shh,” Alison whispered, hugging me.
My heart quickened in my breast. Alison had this nympho act. Well, maybe it wasn’t an act, but underneath she was a sweet, loving girl. I felt relief sweep through me as I held her. I loved Alison, not because Mark or Mary made me, but because I really loved her. I wrapped my arms around her, holding mi Sirenita, my little mermaid, to me. I found her full lips and kissed her, tasting the watermelon lip gloss she wore.
When I broke the kiss, Alison’s brown eyes shined with love. I stroked her face, ran my hands through her bubblegum-pink hair. It was a shame she dyed it. Alison showed me a picture of her a year ago and she had the most beautiful, honey-brown hair. Alison’s left hand grabbed mine, the diamond engagement ring sparkling on her finger. When I saw the ring I just knew it was perfect, two mermaids were engraved on the band, their arms were the mount for the diamond. Alison brought my hand down to her bodice. We were both wearing the disgusting maid outfits that Mark liked us to wear. Outfits with transparent bodices that exposed our breasts and skirts so short that when we bent over our butts and vaginas were exposed. It was just obscene.
Alison took my hand and shoved it down her bodice. I could feel her full breast and the silver barbell that pierced her nipple. “Do you still love me?” Alison asked as I fondled her breast.
“Yes, mi Sirenita,” I purred.
Somehow, this beautiful creature had captured my heart. Maybe it was the fact we were thrown together and forced to share a bed, maybe I was always attracted to women, deep down inside me. Maybe she was my soulmate. I didn’t know. All I knew is that I’ve never felt anything for another person like I do for her. Well, that wasn’t true. I felt this way to Mark and Mary before they freed me from their spell. But, this was real. I gave her breast a nice squeeze.
“Good,” she whispered and pulled my face down to kiss me again as I played with her breast.
Alison deftly maneuvered me to the bed as we kissed and pushed me down to sit on the mattress; I was breathing heavily as she quickly shrugged off the maid’s outfit, revealing all her naked beauty. She was young, only seventeen, and had the perky curves of a teenager. Her skin was pale and beautiful and soft as silk. Her pussy was shaved and she had tattooed, “Cum on in,” with an arrow that pointed down to her pussy.
I grabbed her hips and pulled her to me, kissing her flat belly. I slipped off the bed so I was kneeling before her, my face inches from her tight pussy. Her clit was hard, peaking out of its hood, and I could smell her honey. Her thighs parted eagerly for my lips and I licked up her slit. I could feel her body tremble with pleasure as my tongue caressed her.
“Oh, fuck that’s nice,” Alison moaned. “Umm, I love it when you eat my pussy, Desiree.”
I spread open her clam, and licked around her pink, wrinkled labia, gathering a tongue-full of her sweet honey. I sucked her labia into my mouth, enjoying the feel of her intimate flesh on my lips before I kissed higher up to her clitoris. I swirled my tongue around her little pearl and Alison gave a sharp intake of pleasure.
“You keep that up and you’re gonna make me cum,” Alison purred.
“Promise?” I asked with a saucy smile.
Alison laughed and then moaned as I dived back into her delicious pussy. I decided to follow her tattoo’s instructions and shoved two fingers up inside her hungry clam. Alison’s fingers were digging into my hair as I slowly fucked them in and out. I went back to nibbling on her clit, ever so gently. Her hips were starting to rotate, grinding her sweet clam on my lips as her pleasure mounted inside her.
“Umm, yes! Oh yes!” she purred in delight. “Just keep playing with my button! Umm, yes, right there! Oh, fuck! Desiree! I’m cumming! Oh, my Latin beauty!”
My mouth was rewarded with some fresh juices as Alison creamed my lips. Her body shook on my lips as a nice orgasm spread through her. I kept eating her out, wanting to give mi Sirenita another cum. I pumped my fingers in and out of her faster, bent them just so, and found her G-spot. She bucked on my face as a second, stronger orgasm swept through her.
“Oh fuck! That was amazing, Desiree!”
I looked up at her, my face sticky with her juices as she smiled happily back down at me. I stood up and she kissed me, her tongue lapping up her juices. Her fingers were behind me, finding the outfit’s zipper and suddenly the disgusting maid outfit was falling off my lush curves. Alison smiled, staring lustily at my large, nut-brown breasts. She reached out, hefting one of my melons, squeezing it with her hand, then bent down and swirled her pierced tongue about my hard nipple. I moaned in delight, enjoying the feel of her metal stud against my nub.
“Let me get the strap-on,” Alison happily told me.
I stretched out on our bed and watched Alison’s ass as she bent down to root in our dresser. Her tight, wet slit was on display between her slim thighs, swollen and flushed from her orgasms. She found the strap-on, pulling the clear, plastic harness up her legs. A hot-pink dildo was attached to the front, and Alison expertly tightened the straps. We had a lot of experience using it on each other. Alison posed, stroking her fake cock. The only other thing she wore was a gold choker, her name written in diamonds.
A similar choker was about my neck, my name written in onyxes. It proclaimed me the slut of Mark and Mary. Sudden anger blossomed inside me and I reached behind my neck to take the vile slave collar off.
“What are you doing?” Alison gasped.
I frowned at her. “I’m taking this damned thing off.”
“You don’t want to be their slut anymore?” Alison asked. There were tears brimming in her eyes.
“You do?” I asked, stunned. Why would Alison want to stay with them?
Alison sat on the bed next to me, taking my dark hands in her pale grip, kissing my knuckles. “I wanted to be Mark’s slave,” she confessed. “I’ve always fantasized about being submissive to a powerful man. When I discovered Mark was fucking Lillian while she was cashiering at Hot Topic, I got so wet.” A smile appeared on her lips and her eyes became distant. “When Mark fucked me in the store, I came so hard. I was so happy when he asked me to be his sex slave, Desiree. Almost as happy as when you proposed to me.”
“What about us?” I asked her. “I thought you loved me?”
“I do,” she protested. “We can both be theirs, Desiree. Together.”
I was horrified. “I can’t, Alison. Please don’t ask me to do this!”
“How is this any different than Brandon?” Alison asked me. “You married him for his money, submitted to his lusts for a comfortable life. Master and Mistress will give us all we desire. All we have to do is satisfy their lusts.” A naughty smile appeared on her lips. “And don’t tell me you hated the sex.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but no words came out. She was right. I had enjoyed it. The best sex I ever had. She sensed my hesitation and pounced on me, kissing me with her hungry lips. Could I submit to them, be their slave? I married Brandon for his money, for the comforts he could give me. I let the disgusting man paw at my body. At least I enjoyed the sex with Mark and Mary.
My legs parted for Alison, I moaned into her sweet lips as the dildo prodded my clam. I reached down, grabbing the plastic cock and guided it inside me. Alison eagerly slammed it home inside me, pumping her ass vigorously. My hands reached out, grabbing her tight, teenage ass and pulling her into me. I could feel her hard nipples, and the harder nipple piercings, rubbing against my pillowy chest. Every time Alison buried the dildo in my cunt, the harness ground against my clit, building my pleasure.
“Let’s be slaves together,” Alison panted, her breath hot on my ear. I shivered as her tongue traced my earlobe. “We’ll be slut-wives! Pleasing each other when Master and Mistress do not need us. Oh, please be my slut-wife, Desiree! Please, please, please!”
My fingernails bit into Alison’s ass as my orgasm crashed through me. “Yes!” I howled. “Oh, yes! I’ll be your slut-wife!”
Alison’s happy smile was worth it. She had the same happy smile when I proposed to her. It took me a moment to realize the same smile was gracing my lips. I grabbed her pink tresses and pulled her lips down to mine and kissed my fiancee, my future slut-wife, as tears of happiness rolled down my cheeks.
I stayed quiet as the argument raged, sitting quietly at the table. Across from me, Violet sat just as quietly. Everyone was slipping away. Fiona in an angry huff, Lillian and Noel arguing, Thamina in a daze. I didn’t even notice when Alison and Desiree slipped out. Sam gathered up her translations and walked into Mary’s studio. Jessica calmly walked out, followed by a puzzled Willow.
I was just confused.
I vividly remember Mark bringing Felicity and I to his house. We were both virgins and it was such an exciting day. Mark taught me to suck his cock, then I was lying on the bed, next to Felicity, as Mark ate out my pussy, and Mary ate out Felicity’s pussy. I had such an amazing orgasm. And then Mark mounted me and took my virginity and I found myself falling in love with him. And I remembered how hurt I had been when they kicked me out of the bedroom. I gave Mark my virginity, my innocent heart, and he tossed me aside.
And I pined after him over the weekend.
And them Mary appeared at my school. And I became her slave. And then I got to be Mark’s slave and I was so happy. I got to be with the man whom I’d given my heart to, my innocence to. The last week had been so amazing. Even freed of his…what? Spell? I still didn’t regret Mark taking my virginity. But did I want to continue being his…slut?
I’d be giving up my dreams of going to Digipan and learning to program video games. Was Mark worth it? I would be happy. And Mark must love me if he gave me this freedom. Mary liked to talk about how much Mark loved her and that’s why he freed her. Well, Mark must love me too. I smiled, Mark loved me, and that thought sent happy butterflies flapping through my stomach.
I glanced up at Violet and saw tears running down her face.
I moved around the table, sat next to her and hugged the pretty, innocent teen. “It’ll be alright, Violet,” I told her.
“I…don’t…want…” she sobbed, “to…go…back…home…”
“Shh, you don’t have to go home,” I told her.
“But…but Master and Mistress…they don’t….want me…anymore.”
I hugged her. “Of course they do,” I told her, kissing her salty cheek. “They just love us so much, they are giving us the choice to stay with them.”
“Really?” Violet asked, rubbing her face. Her eyes were red and puffy from her crying, and it just made her look even cuter.
“I don’t have to go back to my mom?”
“No,” I said firmly.
And she relaxed, a tremulous smile on her lips. “Good.” She reached out and grabbed my hand. “Are you staying, April?” she asked me.
“Of course,” I told her. Master loved me. And Mistress, too.
Shame burned through my body as I cried on the curb outside of the house. I was wearing the disgusting clothes Mark made me wear and the memory of all the times I was forced to…pleasure him and Mary curdled my stomach. I ripped the choker off my neck and heaved it off into the bushes and sobbed into my hands.
Someone sat down next to me. Through my tear-filled eyes I saw Thamina, dressed as modestly as she could, which was not that much, her colorful headscarf wrapped about her head. No choker encircled her throat. She wasn’t an idiot like Lillian who seemed to find it just fine that Mark essentially raped all of us.
“I know,” Thamina whispered comfortingly. “Come with me.”
“Where?” I asked. I had nowhere to go. No car, no phone, no money. I left everything behind when Mark took me. I left Hank behind. Another sob threatened to overwhelm me as I thought of my boyfriend. He must be sick with worry. I vaguely remembered Jessica saying he filed a missing-person report on me.
“My place,” Thamina said, holding her keys. Mark gave Thamina a SUV for winning the masturbation contest. Another shudder of disgust went through me. I had masturbated in public for Mark. A crowd of people watched us, made bets on us. Filmed us with their phones. I felt so dirty; I needed to scrub the filth off my skin.
Thamina’s white Ford Escape had somehow escaped the firefight untouched. The garage door was open and I could see Mark’s Mustang leaking antifreeze from a round that went through the front grill. Good. The bastard deserves that, and more, to happen to him. I climbed into the passenger seat and Thamina started up the SUV and we drove down the street.
Out front there was a media circus being managed by the Puyallup Police under Mark’s control. There was a young, teenage girl with black hair in a plaited braid and a smiling face. She wore a red sundress decorated with white flowers and was taking a picture of herself in front of the sign of the neighborhood.
We drove in silence to Thamina’s apartment near Canyon Road. Deer Creek Apartments was the name, one of those gated-communities. Thamina almost forgot her code when we pulled up to the security box and it took three tries before she punched it in right. “I don’t know where my remote for the gate is,” Thamina explained, clearly embarrassed about forgetting the code.
“It’s alright, Thamina,” I told her, patting her knee.
She pulled into her parking spot, and led me up to the third floor apartment. She unlocked the door and went in. “It’s been more than two weeks since I’ve been home.”
“Me, too,” I replied, bitterly. I saw her phone and asked if I could use it. Thamina gave me a nod as she disappeared into her bedroom.
“Hi,” a woman’s voice answered when I called the apartment I shared with Hank, my boyfriend.
“Oh, hello,” I said in surprise. Who was this woman in my apartment? Did I call the right number? “Is Hank there?”
“Who wants to know,” the woman asked coldly. There was a possessive tone to her voice that caused my stomach to sink.
Hank had already replaced me. I slammed the phone down and fell to the floor. We had been dating for two years and he replaces me in two weeks? My body rocked with sobs. God damn Mark fucking Glassner. Why me! Why did you have to choose me and ruin my life! I was happy. Things were going great with Hank!
“It will be alright,” Thamina murmured, hugging me.
She was dressed in a long, dark skirt and very conservative blouse. A blue and red headscarf was wrapped around her head, leaving only her round, dusky face with those sexy, dark eyes. I licked my lips, a heat flushing through my body. Her lips were red and moist and I felt drawn to them. I could feel her body stiffen as I kissed those lips, then she was pushing away from me.
“What are you doing, Fiona?” she asked.
What was I doing? “I don’t know,” I told her. “Christ, the last two weeks have screwed my head all up. I just couldn’t resist kissing you. I…I’m sorry. I’ll leave.”
I went to stand up and she caught my hand and pulled me back and kissed me and it was my turn to stiffen in surprise. “You are not the only one that has changed,” Thamina said, disgust painting her face. “I know it is wrong, a sin, for women to be together. But…”
“You just can’t control yourself?” I asked.
“Yes,” she sighed in resignation and pulled me in for a second kiss.
Her lips were soft and tender. I stroked her face and brushed her headscarf. I pulled it off, her black hair falling free and beautiful about her head. Our kiss became more passionate, my tongue pressing against her lips, and they parted to let me in. I felt her gentle hand stroking my shoulder, then slide down the slope of my breast. I felt the low-cut blouse I was wearing get pushed down and my hard nipple exposed. Her finger gently traced my areola, sending a tingling pleasure throughout my body.
“Oh, Thamina,” I sighed as she bent down and captured my nipple with her sucking lips. I cradled her head to my breast, running my fingers through her silky hair. “Oh, that’s nice.”
Thamina licked her way back up my chest and throat and we were kissing again. My fingers fumbled at the buttons to her blouse as we kissed. Finally, I pushed open her blouse and felt a bra about her breasts. I slid my hands around to her back and found the clasp. It was harder to unclasp another person’s bra then my own, I realized. I finally got the clasp unhooked and broke the kiss to look down at her dusky breasts and her dark nipples.
“Fiona,” Thamina murmured as I sucked her nipple into my mouth. “This is so wrong.”
“Then stop,” I told her. I was too horny to care about right and wrong.
“I can’t,” she sighed, and we were kissing again, her body pressing against mine. The straps of my blouse slipped off my shoulders, exposing both my breasts, and I could feel Thamina’s hard nipples kissing my own nipples.
I pushed Thamina back, lowering her to the floor and settling on top of her. Her hands pulled the thong I was wearing off and pushed up my skirt. I pulled up her long skirt until it bunched about her waist. She was wearing plain, boring panties and I pulled those off of her, exposing a V of black hair that pointed right at her waxed, wet cunt. I grimaced, my pussy was waxed bare because of Mark’s perversions, too.
“Oh, Fiona,” she sighed as I settled atop her, our clits rubbing against each other as I started to trib her. “Ohh, that feels so nice!”
I ground my clit into her, moaning wantonly. “Your clit feels so good on mine,” I purred to Thamina and her hands caught my strawberry-blonde hair and pulled me down to kiss her.
Our hips rolled and pumped as we tribbed each other. Thamina’s hands roamed my back, her fingers lightly tracing my muscles and spine, leaving little trails of fire across my skin. I rubbed our clits together with hard, slow thrusts of my hips, building the pleasure inside me. My ass flexed and her gentle hands were suddenly groping my plump cheeks, pulling me harder into her pussy.
“Fiona! Fiona!” Thamina gasped. “Oh, you are driving me crazy!”
Harder, faster, I ground our clits together. Thamina bucked beneath me as her orgasm exploded inside her. She gasped so sweetly, squeezing my ass almost painfully as her passion overcame her. I rubbed against her clit once, twice, and then I screamed out her name as my pussy convulsed and my orgasm surged through my body.
“Wow,” I whispered and settled my weight on Thamina to cuddle with her and enjoy the post-orgasmic bliss.
But, Thamina pushed me off her and pushed her skirt down. Buttoning up her blouse she whispered, “That was wrong, Fiona. We can’t do this again.”
“Then why did it feel so good?”
“It felt good with Mark and Mary,” Thamina answered. “That didn’t change how wrong it was, did it?”
No. It really didn’t.
But, it did happen again. I went to take a shower and, to my delighted shock, Thamina slipped in and we rubbed our pussies on each other’s thighs beneath the warm water. And then it happened while we shared her bed for the night. And once more when we woke up in the morning. After every time we made love, Thamina would say it was the last, that it was wrong, and every time she would be the one to kiss me first.
“Do you need a place to stay?” Thamina asked as we ate a simple breakfast of pancakes. It was the only food in the apartment that hadn’t gone bad.
“Yeah,” I answered, hopeful.
“Then, you can stay here.” Thamina took a deep breath. “But, do not expect us to do that again.”
“Of course not,” I said, nodding soberly. I grabbed my plate and went to her sink to start rinsing it when I felt her body press against mine from behind.
“We can’t do it anymore,” she whispered as her lips found the back of my neck. “Because it’s wrong.”
Her hand slid up my thigh underneath my skirt and I moaned softly when she found my bare pussy. I didn’t know what Thamina and I had. It certainly wasn’t love. But it was comforting. I gasped as she slipped a finger up inside me. Comforting and fun.
Jessica St. Pierre
I didn’t know what to think when Mark freed me from his…power? Spell? I didn’t really know what to call it. Who would think magic and all that crap was real? What I did know is that I needed a drink. I found my car still parked out on the street. My poor baby, a powder-blue Prius, had a passenger window shot out and a bullet hole in the trunk. Sighing, I climbed into the car, pushed the button to start it up, and drove away.
American Joes was the first bar I found. It looked like a dive, but I didn’t care. I needed a drink, desperately. I walked in; the few men in the pub were fixed on the TV. It was Debra reporting about what happened this afternoon. My heart began to hammer. I spent the firefight crouched behind a car, next to Debra, as her cameraman fearlessly filmed the firefight. “I was in Fallujah during the Surge,” he said dismissively when Debra suggested he take some cover.
I had never felt so alive as during those few minutes. It was almost intoxicating. Being around Mark and Mary was intoxicating, too. I sipped on my Coors lite. It was wrong what Mark did to me, that was painfully obvious. But, Mark was a powerful man. And he was only growing more and more powerful. And powerful men got what they wanted.
I could help him. I could be there, in the thick of it. Mark already relied on me to help the media. And so what if he fucked me. The sex was amazing. I could feel my pussy moistening in my silk panties just thinking about it. Mark was so powerful, and I could be one of his favorite women. I shuddered at the thought. I pulled my choker out of my pocket. Made of gold, with my name written in sapphires. I rubbed the engraving: “Mark and Mary’s slut forever.”
Forever. Forever the lover of the most powerful man in the world. There was no doubt in my mind just how powerful Mark was after today. He healed himself after he got shot five times, for Pete’s sake. Finishing off my beer, I clasped the choker about my throat.
Samnag “Sam” Soun
I sat the Magicks of the Witch of Endor and my dictionaries and reference books down on the desk in Mary’s studio, next to one of the computers. The last few days had definitely been strange. One minute I was working on my Ph.D. dissertation, the next I was being made the plaything of Mark and Mary, and then they asked me to translate this book.
The really wild part was all the spells and rituals in the book were real. Mark sold his soul for power and used that power to control me. I was torn, I did not want to be his plaything, but the magic was so intriguing. There were just such fascinating spells in it! There was a spell that could steal a nun’s powers and give it to a Warlock. Another spell let you summon the spirits of the dead to scry with. The book told you how to summon a variety of demons: Asherah, Marduk, Lilith, Hadath, Molech, Astarte, Chemosh, Baal-zebub, Dagon, Tammuz, Milcom, Ashtoreth, and, of course, Lucifer. The very being Mark and Mary apparently got their powers from. And there were magics in here even I could perform. Most required you to sell your soul, but anyone could conjure the dead or heal the sick and I found one spell that only a woman could cast.
I flushed, remembering what the spell did. It allowed a woman to conjure her own cock. Allowing a woman to ‘have the seed of life like a man, and plant that seed in a fertile vessel.’ What would it be like to have my own cock? It was such a disgusting idea, and yet an itch was forming in my pussy, my juices puddling on the leather seat of the chair.
I slid my hands down my naked flesh, down to my waxed pussy. On Monday, Mary sent me to this salon to get my thick, black bush waxed. It was weird, feeling bare down there, and strange to play with my pussy and not feel my wiry hair tickling my fingers as they slowly got matted-down with my juices. I teased my slit, running my hand up and down my labia. My breath caught as I pictured a cock thrusting out from me as I pinched my clit.
I imagined bending caramel-skinned Jessica over the couch. She would moan as I slid my cock inside her warm pussy. I slipped my fingers up inside me, imagining that’s what Jessica’s pussy would feel like around my cock, all warm and slippery. Jessica would gasp and pant, and moan so beautifully as I fucked her. Her caramel breasts would shake from my thrusts, waving her dark nipples about. I would spank her ass as I fucked her, and pull on her honey-brown hair.
I dug my fingers faster and faster into my cunt, pinching my clit with my other hand. I leaned back in the computer chair. Jessica would cum on my cock, her pussy clenching, and she would gasp my name. I shuddered on the chair, my pussy clenching about my fingers as a nice cum washed through me.
Breathing heavily, I sucked my fingers clean of my tangy, spicy flavor. I grabbed my notes and found the passage for the Shophkah spell, reading the ritual again. It was simple. I just needed a woman to lie with. I chewed on my fingernail as I debated performing the spell. This might be my last night of freedom. Just because Mark and Mary say they’ll free us, I don’t think they’ll free me. They need the knowledge in this book. They need me.
Where could I find a woman to fuck? There was a club I heard the other sluts talk about. One that Mary liked to go to. Some lesbian club called the something Diver. The Cake Diver? No, that couldn’t be it. I pulled out my smart phone and did a search and found a club in Tacoma called the Clam Diver.
I went down into the basement where the bed I shared with Xiu was. She was a nasty girl, I learned. Loved to be hurt. The more you hurt her, the wetter she got. I went to the dresser I shared with Xiu. Mary had me go shopping on Monday to get “appropriate clothing,” as she put it, after the waxing. I found a tight, blue dress covered in sequins. The skirt was very short, and while the bodice went up to my neck, an oval was cut out exposing the inner slopes of my breasts.
I called for a taxi and paid with my debit card. As the cab drove me to Tacoma, I thought about my future. I wouldn’t be Mark and Mary’s sex slave again, not if I could help it. But, maybe, they would let me be their…adviser. Their Vizier. I could inform them about the magic and maybe I would make my own deal with the devil. As long as I stayed subservient to them, there’s no reason that I couldn’t have some fun.
The music in the club was a booming dubstep. It was dark inside, various colored spotlights flashing about the club. There was a bar and circular tables on one side, and a large dance floor on the other. The club was filled with women of all shapes and races: lipstick lesbians, punk girls with spiked hair, butch women with short hair, goth girls in depressing blacks, and many more.
I had fun, dancing and grinding on a few girls. I hit it off with this one girl who had the most unusual hair. Half was dyed bubblegum pink, the other half cotton-candy blue. In fact, her name was Candy and whether that was her real name or an affectation, I didn’t know. She found my glasses cute, and we were soon making out on one of the couches that lined the wall of the club.
Candy was quite affectionate, and her mouth as sweet as candy. She was short, like me, and very curvy, unlike me. Her hand slipped under my short skirt and started playing with my shaved pussy as we kissed. Feeling bold, I pushed up her skirt and discovered she wasn’t wearing panties. I ran my finger through her smooth pussy. I gathered up a copious coating of her juices and sucked them into my mouth. “Umm, you taste as sweet as candy,” I joked.
She licked her lips. “Why do you think I’m called Candy?”
I laughed and kissed her again. She grabbed my hips and pulled me into her and our clits started rubbing together. The spell required me to ‘lie with a woman as if I were a man, and fully know her,’ and it sounded like a euphemism for tribadism. When I ‘fully know her,’ which I’m hoping means the both of us cumming, I was to utter the Hebrew word for cock, Shophkah. All the spells that I had seen were Hebrew words. I had only translated maybe a sixth of the book and skimmed the rest.
Our pussies ground together harder and faster, our orgasms building. “Oh yes!” Candy gasped. “Oh, god yes! I love this couch! I always get lucky on this couch!”
I rubbed harder and harder. “Oh yeah, who else have you done this with!”
“Oh, this beautiful, auburn-haired woman!” she gasped. “Two weeks ago. She was the most stunningly gorgeous woman in the world!”
She was talking about Mary, I realized. What a small world. Our clits were rubbing hard together as we pleasured each other. Candy was moaning wordlessly, her finger slipping into the cleft of my buttocks and teasing my asshole. When her finger slid into my ass, I slammed my clit into hers at the sudden intrusion. Candy bucked beneath me as she came.
“Fuck, fuck, that’s so good!” she shrieked, wiggling her finger deeper into my bowels.
I felt my orgasm shudder through me and I moaned one word, “Shophkah!”
Warmth bubbled up in my pussy and pleasure shook through my body as my clitoris became red hot. I moaned and felt pleasure as my clit engorged and lengthened, pushing into Candy’s pussy as it grew. I was suddenly surrounded by her warm, slippery flesh. It was better than I imagined it would be. My hips started pumping my cock inside her delightful cunt.
Candy’s eyes opened in shock. “What the fuck!” she gasped. “Is that a dildo?”
I didn’t answer her, I was too lost in the pleasure around my cock to care about anything other than pumping it in and out of her pussy. Candy’s hand wormed between our bodies, sliding down to feel where my cock penetrated her cunt. Her fingers wrapped around the shaft of my cock and followed it up to my groin. I could see her eyes widen in amazement as she realized what she felt. Her fingers slipped underneath and found my wet pussy.
“Holy shit! You have a cock, now!”
“Yeah,” I panted, fucking her harder and harder.
She let out a throaty moan. “I love magic!” Her hips started thrusting up to meet me and I kissed her sweet lips.
My cock felt so amazing in her slippery depths. I was completely enveloped in warm, soft flesh. Every movement of my cock built the pleasure mounting inside me. I fucked her faster and faster, feeling an overwhelming urge to cum as fast as possible. God, no wonder guys were so quick to finish. This urge was almost driving all thoughts from my mind. I just needed to cum.
I groaned loudly as this pressure shot out from my ovaries and out through my cock and I spilt my seed into Candy’s sweet cunt. “Oh my god, you can cum!” she gasped. “Holy shit!” More blasts flooded her pussy as she came a second time, her cunt contracting pleasantly about my cock. “Holy shit!” Candy panted one more time.
I concentrated, the spell said I could summon and dismiss the cock at will, and I felt my cock shrinking and withdrawing from her cunt until it was back to being my tiny little clit. Candy just gaped, rubbing her eyes as she saw my dick-less groin.
“Wow, oh, wow! Can you fuck me with that again?”
I didn’t get why the other girls were upset. Being Mark and Mary’s sluts was so rewarding. I was so jealous that day when I first met Mark and he took Alison as his sex slave and left me to work the rest of my shift at Hot Topic with a cunt full of his cum. I stalked out of the house, I didn’t see the point in hanging around with these ungrateful ladies. If they wanted to throw away the great honor of being Mark’s slut, fine with me. More Master and Mistress for me to fuck.
Feeling horny, I decided not to waste the opportunity of having the night to myself and grabbed my phone, looking up this hot piece of ass’s number. “Hey Zelda,” I said when she answered the phone.
Zelda was this cute, punk girl I fucked a few weeks ago. I met her at Hot Topic when Master came in the second time and made me his slut. I filmed our fucking so Master and Mistress could watch it later. She was a great lay and I wouldn’t mind making it with the girl again.
“You never called me back,” Zelda pouted. “I thought we had a great time.”
“We did,” I quickly told her. “In fact, I’m looking to have another good time.”
Zelda gave a wicked laugh. “I bet Spike would just love that.”
“Spike?” I asked. “Is he cute?”
Zelda purred. “You’ll just want to eat him up. Come on over.”
I pulled on a red corset and a very short, black skirt trimmed with black lace. Thigh-high, fishnet stockings covered my pale legs, held up by a black garter belt. I didn’t bother with the panties. I pulled my black hair, streaked with blue and purple highlights, into two pigtails. I looked hot. My gold choker glinted prettily around my neck so everyone could see who I belonged to. I happily headed outside to my blue Fusion Hybrid. I frowned, the passenger door had three bullet holes in it and the passenger seat was leaking stuffing.
Oh well, Master had the money to fix it. I hopped in, and started up my car. I had won a masturbation contest to get this car. That had been exciting, pleasuring myself while a bunch of strangers watched. It was so nasty. That’s why I loved being their slave, I got to do all these nasty, fun things. I gunned the car, and roared out of the street, past all the media, and took off to Zelda’s apartment.
She didn’t live too far away, Chestnut Hill apartments off Meridian, halfway down South Hill into the Puyallup Valley and downtown Puyallup. I parked my car in front of the M building and climbed up the stairs to the third floor and knocked on the door. Zelda opened it, wearing only a skimpy, black thong. Her small breasts had gold rings pierced through her nipples and tattooed on her right breast was a green serpent coiled about her tit. That was new, she didn’t have that two weeks ago. The serpent’s tongue flicked out pink towards her areola to lick at her nipple. A sultry grin appeared on her almost-cute face. She would be cute, except her hair was spiked up into a black mohawk streaked with red, the sides shaved off.
“Slut,” Zelda smiled and grabbed my pigtail and pulled me in for a kiss. My hands found her breasts, pulling on her nipple rings as her tongue stabbed into my lips and roughly wrestled with my tongue. She broke the kiss and pulled me into the apartment by my pigtail.
Sitting on her couch was a cute guy wearing only a pair of ripped jeans. His chest was muscular and hairless. His face had a chiseled chin and deep, blue eyes. Just like Master’s eyes. His hair was shaved and black spikes were pierced through his eyebrows, a black bull’s ring pierced his nose, and both of his ear lobes were distorted by wide, black ear expanders.
“This that girl?” Spike grunted, taking a pull from a brown-bottled beer. A grin split his lips. “You’re one hot chick. Zelda says you like to party.”
“I love to party,” I purred.
“What’s this about your throat?” Zelda asked, fingering my choker. “Mark and Mary’s slut forever,” she read and frowned. “Wait, not that Mark?”
I grinned at her.
“Holy shit,” Spike gasped. “That was wild what happened today. Did he really die and come back to life?”
I blinked. “Well, he was shot in the chest a bunch and…” my voice broke. The image of Master lying bleeding on the lawn would haunt me for the rest of my life. Get yourself together, slut, he’s alive. “We thought he was going to die and then he was all better.”
“Fuck,” Zelda muttered. “Is he, like, a God or something?”
A God? He could do some amazing things. Both of them could. “Maybe he is,” I answered. “And I’m one of his favorites.”
Spike pulled me to him and I sat down on the couch next to him. He boldly pulled up my skirt exposing my shaved cunt, his fingers ran down my slit then shoved roughly inside me. I gasped in the mix of pleasure and discomfort. “So a God’s cock has been up here?”
His thick fingers were pushing in and out of my cunt. “Yes,” I hissed. Zelda sank down on the other side of me, her fingers unlacing the black ties of my corset. The corset loosened enough for Zelda to fish out my left breast and I moaned as her lips kissed my nipple, then she softly bit it with her teeth. I jumped when Spike’s thumb started rubbing hard on my clit. “Oh, fuck!” I moaned.
Spike unzipped his jeans and pulled out a hard, thick cock. A silver ring pierced the cock’s head, below the urethra. A Prince Albert piercing, I thought with a wicked smile. “You feel wet enough, babe,” Spike moaned, climbing atop me.
I spread my legs eagerly for him. “Fuck the slut,” Zelda urged.
His cock nudged at my pussy. I groaned as he slid into me, the ring rubbing deliciously down the length of my pussy as he filled me up. He drew back and slammed into me again. God, his cock felt so good inside me. I always loved fucking a guy with a pierced cock. Zelda kissed me as my pussy was getting pounded by Spike.
“Fuck, fuck you’re tight, babe!” Spike moaned, his balls slapping against my taint with every thrust. “Fuck, fuck! I can see why a God would fuck you! This is some grade A cunt I’m getting!”
My orgasm was building quickly as the metal ring rubbed against my pussy’s walls. I gasped into Zelda’s greedy mouth as her hand slid down and found my little clit and started rubbing it. I writhed beneath Spike as my cum exploded through my cunt, squeezing down on his big cock. He kept right on fucking me, pounding me harder and harder. My insides were on fire and Zelda kept playing with my clit.
I broke the kiss, gasping, “Oh fuck, I’m cumming again! Ohh, keep fucking me! Yes, Yes!” Zelda’s finger was making my clit feel amazing as she stroked it. “Fuck, keep playing with my clit, slut! Ummm, yes!”
“I’m gonna cum in your pussy,” Spike grunted. “I bet you’re the type of slut that loves it when a guy busts his nut inside her!”
“Oh yes,” I panted. “Flood my naughty little cunt with your cum! I’m goin’ to make Zelda lick it all out!”
Zelda pinched my nipple. “You think so, slut?”
“Yes!” I screamed as a third orgasm crashed through me. Spike groaned as my pussy hungrily milked his cum from his balls. I loved the feeling of hot cum splashing inside me. Spike pulled out and buried himself one last time inside me, before his cock withdrew, leaving me empty. I could feel his cum run out wetly.
“Clean her pussy out, Zelda!” Spike barked. Then a grin broke out on his face. “She’s got to be clean for her God.”
I moaned as Zelda’s head bent down and lapped at my messy cunt. Spike was right, Master wouldn’t be pleased if my cunt was full of some other man’s cum, tomorrow. I came a fourth time as Zelda’s skilled tongue found all of Spike’s cum inside me. And then, I got to return the favor to Zelda, licking out Spike’s cum from her tasty snatch.
I slipped silently out of the kitchen as Fiona and Lillian fought, wandering upstairs. I entered Master and Mistress’s bedroom, crawling onto their bed. I rubbed my cheek against their sheets and hugged their pillow. I could smell their scent and felt loved.
I was carrying Master’s baby, I thought happily.
My arm ached from where I got shot, and I shifted to get more comfortable. Maybe it was wrong what they did to me, but I enjoyed every minute of it. Even drinking another woman’s pee. Fiona didn’t seem to be as happy about being their slut. That was a shame, I had come to love drinking her pee. I was pregnant and that changed everything for me. Maybe I would be more angry if it wasn’t for the baby. Or maybe not. Master told me he loved me, and so did Mistress. My child would be loved and cared for, and that is what’s most important.
So there was no question in my mind what I would do. I fingered the gold choker, tight about my throat, tracing the opal stones set in a plate on the front. Korina, the opals spelled, and below that I traced the words engraved, “Mark and Mary’s slut forever.” I was their slut, forever. It was engraved on my choker.
Dr. Willow WolfTail
When I need to think, I like to get in my red Prius and drive. It didn’t matter where I drove, just that I kept moving. I had been Dr. Willow WolfTail, OB/GYN and wife of Yancy Coleman. But, what was I, now? Mark and Mary’s sex slave. I frowned, no I would not be that. Yancy’s wife? I shook my head, no I signed those divorce papers last week.
I never should have married Yancy. We had just been together for so long, I just didn’t know how to get off the train. So, I said, “Yes,” when he proposed and I said, “I do,” when the minister asked the question. It made my family happy, it made Yancy happy. I told myself that it made me happy. But, it didn’t.
So, was I still a doctor?
That was the one thing Mark and Mary left me. They wanted me to run their free clinic. Mary told me all about her plans. The clinic’s real purpose was to find them young women to be whores for them. But, that seemed to be changing. Mary was starting to be more focused on actually helping these women. I pictured examining all those young, nubile girls and felt a flush of warmth through my body. My time as their sex slave has definitely warped my sexual appetites.
Maybe I couldn’t be their sex slave, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t run their clinic. For a price.
Agent Noel Heinrich
“I need a transfer,” I told ASAC Donavan when I entered his office.
“I thought you were happy with your, um, undercover assignment,” Donavan said. “You seemed so committed last week.”
I shivered as he leered at me. He had watched me fuck Mark Glassner in this very building. Well, that’s when I was Mark’s slave. Now, I wanted to get as far away from the creep as I could. Far away from all the people he’s enslaved, and my memories. Grief almost overwhelmed me, but I beat it down. I didn’t need that know.
“Just send me far away,” I begged. “Mark approved it.” A lie. Well, if Mark was honest about letting me go, I guess it really wasn’t.
“Well, if that’s what Mark wants,” Donavan said, and a hint of awe appeared in his voice. Jeez, was he one of those idiots buying that bull about Mark being a god? When I left the house, a group of those idiots were gathering outside with signs proclaiming Mark and Mary to be their Gods. Blind fucking idiots.
“It is,” I told him, rubbing at my neck. It felt good to have that damned choker off. I threw it into the Puyallup River on my way here. Let the fish be his damned sex slave. I was through being a man’s plaything.
“This is like a dream, Tiffany,” my husband said to me as we cuddled in bed.
We were both naked, my pussy aching pleasantly from our lovemaking. I stroked his chest, idly, my body pressed up against his side. It was a dream. I never thought I would be with my husband again. To hold him, and kiss him, and to feel him inside me. I wasn’t a nun anymore, I realized, I would have to get on birth control or we’d have another child.
“I love you, Sean,” I told him, squeezing him tightly. He smiled and we kissed. “I need to tell you something.” I bit my lip as he nodded. “I…I was with other people, while we were separated.”
“It’s okay,” Sean answered. “That’s all in the past.”
“Is it okay?” I asked. “I had many lovers. I was your wife and…”
“Technically, we were divorced,” he pointed out. “We still are divorced, I guess. Besides, I had women, too.”
I frowned. “Mary said you never dated.”
“No, but there were, um, women, from time to time,” he admitted.
“Who?” I asked, curious. “Why would you keep it from the girls?” A guilty flush appeared on his face and my eyes widened in realization. “Your high school students?”
“Yeah,” he sheepishly answered. “They were all willing. You know, the cool teacher thing turns some girls on. But, it was only after you left, Tif.”
“Well, I guess what was in the past is in the past,” I told Sean. “We have our new future to build. And, well, I think I’d like another child. So, I could see,” tears were filling my eyes, “…so I could see one of my children grow up.”
Sean gently brushed a tear away. “I’m old enough to be a grandpa, now. Are you sure?”
I laughed. “I know, you got old. I can’t believe there’s gray in your hair.”
“And you got younger. So not fair, Tif.”
“Oh, would you rather I got old and fat like you?” I teased.
His lips found mine. “No, you’re as beautiful as the day I met you.”
I could feel his cock hardening against my thigh. “Again?” I asked in surprise.
“They say a young, beautiful woman is the best Viagra,” Sean quipped as he pulled me atop him. “Besides, someone wants a child.”
I smiled happily as I felt his cock prodding at the entrance to my pussy and I slid down Sean’s body, forcing his wonderfully hard dick inside me. I moaned in delight as Sean filled me up. I rose up, thrusting my perky breasts forward. I slowly started riding Sean, rolling my hips as I slid up and down his shaft. Sean’s hands slid up my flat stomach to cup my breasts.
“You’re so beautiful, Tif!” he moaned. “Would you marry me, again?”
“Oh yes!” I gasped, happily. “As soon as possible.” I felt tears of joy run down my cheeks as I rode my husband. I forced down the guilt at betraying my order. It was all for Sean, all for my family. They were all I needed.
And what about the greater good, my guilt whispered up at me.
But that voice was quickly drowned out by the pleasure growing deep in my womb as Sean’s cock rubbed deliciously against my pussy walls as I rode him. The pleasure of his fingers playing gently with my breasts, the pleasure of my clit grinding into his groin on every down-stroke. And the pleasure of my orgasm as it crashed through my body and the feel of Sean’s cum shooting inside me. His eager sperm might be swimming up to a waiting egg and we would make a new life, again.
“Mark…” the ethereal voice whispered, “Awaken…”
I was standing in a field of wildflowers awaiting my Mary when the voice drifted across the field and I realized I was dreaming. The voice seemed to be coming from the small bridal tent where, in my dream, anyways, my Mary would be waiting to step out and walk down the aisle. I walked towards the white tent and through the open flap.
“Mark…” the beautiful woman whispered, her voice chiming like bells.
She was beautiful and young, maybe in her early twenties. Her skin was burnished bronze and her eyes were scarlet. Around her face and shoulders fell scarlet hair. She wore a simple, white tunic, her large breasts straining against the plain fabric. At her waist, a golden sword set with rubies. A soft smile graced her lips as she eyed me.
“Who are you?” I asked, suspiciously.
“I am Azrael,” the woman answered. Her tunic melted away and she stood naked before me. Her breasts were large and perfectly shaped, her nipples hard and large. Scarlet hair hid her pussy as she walked towards me. She touched me and I shuddered in pleasure. It was like being touched by Lilith.
Somehow, I was on my back and she was straddling me, my cock sliding into her pussy. The feeling was so intense, an ecstasy of pleasure surged through me as my cock was fully enveloped by her warm, wet depths. I groaned, my cum shooting into her. She smiled in delight, shuddering atop me as she started riding my cock.
“It has been so long since I have given a man the Ecstasy,” Azrael moaned in her melodic voice.
Ecstasy, that’s what Karen called it when Gabriel would come upon her and give her a mission. So, Azrael was an angel, then. Now that I had Tiffany’s Gift, I guess the other side had a use for me. Well, fuck that. They had caused me far too much pain and suffering for me to even think about playing ball for them.
“What do you want, angel,” I spat, trying to fight the pleasure.
Azrael laughed. “I am an angel. The Angel of Death, to be specific.”
“You’re a woman, though?” I frowned. “I always thought the Angel of Death was some guy in a black robe.”
“Why would Death be a man?” she asked. “Life comes into this world from a woman, it is only fitting that life should leave this world the same way.”
The pleasure in my cock was growing too much and I groaned as I came inside her again. She just kept right on riding me, her perfect breasts bouncing above me. I wanted to reach out and cup those breasts, feel her hard nipples. Instead, I grabbed the canvas floor of the tent between my fists.
“What do you want?” I demanded.
“It is my job to teach and guide Shamans,” Azrael answered.
“A Warlock who has been given the Gift of the Priesthood. You are no longer a Warlock, but you are not quite a Priest. A monk, as they are called these days. You are a Shaman, with both the powers of Paradise and the Abyss.”
“This has happened before?” I asked in surprise.
“Oh, yes,” Azrael answered. “It is rare. There is a way for a Warlock to steal the Gift, of course. And Tiffany was hardly the first Priestess to give her Gift to a Warlock. In fact, the most famous Shaman of all would be King Solomon. When the Queen of Sheba was sent to exorcise him, the foolish woman fell in love with him and gave him her powers. Any questions?”
“Why would you want to help me?” I demanded. “I’m a Warlock. Your side has been attacking me since day one!”
“Perhaps I can temper your wickedness,” Azrael answered, with a smile. “And maybe some good can come from your actions.” She twisted her hips, squeezing her angelic cunt as she slid down my cock and another blast of cum flooded up inside her. “Ohh, I love it when a mortal floods me with his seed. Maybe you’ll quicken a life in my womb!”
“What?” I asked in shock.
She threw back her head, a rich, chiming laughter peeled from her lips. “I can bare no child, relax mortal.”
Could I have kids, now? Mary wanted to have kids but Karen told us a nun couldn’t get pregnant, it was one of the protections they were given. Mary would be crushed if I was sterile, now. “Can I still have kids, now?”
Azrael cocked her head. “Yes. The Priestesses were given that protection because of the nature of their Prayers. Priests, on the other hand, have very different powers. Anything else, or shall we get started on your education?”
“No,” I snapped, anger at her presumption, anger at her invasion of my dreams, boiling up inside me. “I don’t want anything to do with your side. My Chasity is dead because of your nuns!”
“Not my nuns,” Azrael pointed out. “Gabriel’s nuns.”
“I don’t care,” I shouted. My balls were boiling, wanting to cum in the furnace of her cunt again. “Your side can go fuck themselves.”
“Ooh, I’d rather fuck you,” Azrael panted. “Your cock feels so nice inside me.”
I grit my teeth as she rode me faster and faster, trying not to cum again. She arched her back, thrusting those magnificent breasts forward and her cunt began to convulse so pleasantly about my cock as she came. I lost the battle and came one more time in her tight pussy. Gasping for breath, I found myself moaning in disappointment as she rose off my cock.
“Well, if you ever change your mind, Mark, just say my name and we can resume your education.”
“I won’t,” I promised.
Her mocking laugh followed me as I rose to wakefulness.
I was sleeping on a hospital chair, my neck sore, my pants soaked with cum. Mary stirred next to me, shifting her position on her chair. “Master,” a soft voice whispered. I looked up to see Xiu staring at me. I stood up and took her hand and kissed it. She smiled softly, and her eyes closed and she slipped back into sleep.
I won’t use their powers, I promised myself. Desiree almost died the first time they attacked me. Korina was shot and this time Xiu was badly hurt, and plenty of my bodyguards. And Chasity was dead and five of my other bodyguards. Fuck them. Fuck their powers. I would hold onto this Gift, keep it from ever being used for their side again. Deprive them of one of the few tools that remained them.
Mary and I ate breakfast at the hospital. Xiu woke up a second time when we returned and Mary hugged her gently as we told her about the hysterectomy and Chasity’s death. Xiu would be given the choice about staying our sex slave, but only after she was stronger. We checked in on the other bodyguards. 30 died during the night. 04 and 47 were still unconscious. The other eighteen were conscious and eating breakfast. They had suffered a variety of gunshots, some more serious than others. Four were well enough to be discharged this morning, having only taken grazing wounds. They were all happy to see us and we gave them encouragements.
Noon was approaching, and it was time to find out who, if any, of our sex slaves would want to voluntarily stay with us. 51 drove us back to the house. Besides the media, there was a large crowd of people cheering and holding up signs as we drove through. A very large crowd, I realized. There were more than a hundred, covering the shoulder of Shaw Road and spilling into the road. “I worship you,” and “Mark Glassner is God,” and many other signs were on display.
“What the fuck is that about?” I asked Mary, but she looked as confused as I was.
“Sir,” 51 answered. “Your miraculous healing is all over the internet. Some people think you’re a God.”
“Stop the car,” I ordered and I stepped out of the car, prepared to set these people straight.
The crowd, mostly women, fell to their knees and bowed. Their faces shown with rapture and love. “My God!” they shouted. “Bless me!” and “I am yours!” and other shouts rose up. I recognized a few, women that I had fucked over the past few weeks. “Take me!” a woman shouted and bared her breasts at me and I felt my cock hardening.
Their love, their devotion, their worship was so intoxicating. I raised my hands up and they hushed in excited anticipation of what I would say. They were obeying me without me even giving them a command. This was power. I was power. I could do things that no normal person ever could. I was better than them. I could guide them, shape them. Make them better than what had been before. How could I refuse these people.
“What is your commandment, my Lord!” a man shouted.
“Love each other.”
I did not know why that phrase appeared on my lips, but it felt right. A groan went through the crowd and two teenage girls rose up. I smiled, recognizing the Cunningham twins. “It’s as we told you,” the twin with the shorter hair cried. “Mark taught our family to love each other unconditionally.”
Rose grabbed Daisy and the twin girls kissed passionately before the entire crowd. A groan went through the crowd and more people were kissing each other, following the twin girls’ examples. Men kissed women and women kissed women. Mothers kissed daughters and sons kissed mothers. Brothers kissed sisters and daughters kissed fathers.
Mary stepped out of the car and another wave of shouts rose from the crowd, “My Goddess!” and, “The most Beautiful of Women!” shouted from the crowd. I saw the uncertainty melt away from Mary’s face as the crowd chanted her name. A Black woman knelt before her, begging to pleasure her.
Clothing was coming off as the worshipers’ passions increased. Several with instruments begin playing a low, primal beat. Deep drums accompanied by steel-string guitars. Everywhere you looked, people were loving each other, worshiping us with their bodies. Some bowed before us, baring breasts and begging for our blessing.
A mother and her teenage daughter took turns sucking my cock, their tongues running up and down the sides. They both looked so much alike, the same tawny hair, the same delicate cheeks, but the mother had fuller lips and bigger tits, while the daughter had the smooth, fresh skin of youth and tits that seemed to defy gravity.
They kissed each other around the head of my cock, their tongues caressing each other’s as they explored the sensitive flesh of my cock. I gripped both their hairs and moaned as they started taking turns sucking my cock into their mouths. Mary was leaning back against 51’s cop car as the Black woman was devouring her pussy.
I watched her lips as she moaned, her voice drowned out by the worshipers. Her body convulsed as she orgasmed and the Black woman looked so happy when her face came away sticky. Immediately, another worshiper, a Black teenager, grabbed the woman and they kissed and the teen mounted her and started fucking her with his cock. Was it her son? Or was it a complete stranger fucking her?
The mother had her lips about my cock as her daughter sucked my balls into her sweet mouth. I groaned, my balls tightening, and I flooded the mother’s mouth with my cum. She pulled her head away and let my cum splash onto her large breasts and neck. A look of ecstasy painted her face as my spunk ran thickly down her heaving bosom. Her daughter released my balls and scooped up a glob of semen off her mother’s breast and sucked it reverently into her mouth. Other worshipers crowded around, gathering scoops of my cum to eat.
“This is wrong,” Mary whispered after we climbed back into 51’s car, leaving behind the orgy.
“Why?” I asked. “We didn’t make them do anything.”
Mary bit her lip. “They think we’re…”
“Gods?” I asked her, a smile on my lips. “Why not? We have these powers. Didn’t it feel amazing as they all chanted your name?”
A ghost of a smile played on her lips. “It was…”
“Intoxicating?” I finished.
“Yes,” Mary sighed. “We need to be careful, Mark.”
I reached out and stroked her freckled cheek. “Of course we will, Mare.”
I saw the evidence of the firefight all over the neighborhood as 51 pulled up in front of the house. There were boarded-up windows and cars riddled with bullet holes. Red stains dotted the asphalt. Mary clung to my arm as we walked up to the house. We may have been about to lose all our sex slaves, but I was still riding high on the euphoria of the worshipers. There were plenty of women out there, our worshipers, who would be thrilled to be our sluts.
They were all waiting in the dining room. Some wore their chokers and others did not. Well, it seemed that some of them would be staying. Alison and Desiree were holding each other, their chokers tight about their throats. Violet and April both wore their chokers, too, and behind them Lillian lounged fingering her choker. I was happy to see that Korina was wearing her choker, too. She was carrying my child.
“Sam, is there a way to break the bond?” I asked her, then blinked in surprise. There was a woman sitting on Sam’s lap, her hair dyed half-pink and half-blue. They were both dressed in party dresses, Sam in a blue sequined dress and the girl in a gauzy, pink dress.
“Yes.” A yawn spread across her round face. She rubbed her dark, almond eyes. “It’s quite simple. Just touch the person, concentrate on the chain binding the two of you and say Parats. That’s the Hebrew word for ‘to break.’ In fact all the spells are just Hebrew words. It’s quite fascinating.”
“So, I take it you want to be freed?” I asked her before she went off on one of her long-winded explanations.
“Well, you need me,” Sam said. “But, I don’t want to be one of your…sluts. I’ll advise you on magic. Let me be your Vizier. The only payment I want is Candy, here.”
I glanced at Candy. “You want to be hers?”
“She can do magic,” Candy giggled.
“Fine,” I told Sam. “You have to tell us whatever we need to know. You can never tell anyone else what you know. You can ignore any other commands. Candy, you belong to Sam, now. Do whatever she wants.”
Fiona stepped up in front of me, anger on her face, and slapped me. “Bastard,” she snarled. “Free me.”
I grabbed her. I could keep her, make her love me again. Make her pay for slapping me. I saw Mary staring at me, the slight, warning shake of her head. No. Mary was right, it was better that they wanted to be ours. I focused on the chains binding the two of us and said, “Parats.” We flinched, as if we were both tugging on a rope that snapped, and we stumbled back.
“I’m free,” she whispered, half in astonishment, half in joy. And then she was sweeping out of the room, her strawberry-blonde hair flowing behind her.
Noel was stoic silence when I released her, Thamina was icy calm, modestly clad in a long skirt and headscarf. Willow walked up and I grabbed her, going to release her, too, when she shook her head. “Like Sam, I think we can come to an understanding.”
“What?” Mary asked.
“I’ll run your charity,” Willow smiled. “Let me choose the staff and I’ll be more than happy to run the clinic. Just let me…play, with the girls.”
“Done,” I told her, with a smile. “Install some cameras, though.”
Willow laughed. “Sure.”
“And the rest of you want to be our sex slaves?”
“Yes!” Alison answered, excitedly. “Desiree, too.”
Desiree nodded. “Alison convinced me.”
Jessica walked towards us, her choker about her neck. “You’re the most powerful people in the world. I want to be a part of that.”
“I don’t want to go back to my mom,” Violet whispered. April gripped her hand and smiled at me and happily said, “I love you both.”
“You’re too much fun, Master,” Lillian said with a sultry laugh. “And Mistress is just to die for.”
Korina walked over and stood next to Jessica, her hand rubbing her belly. “I love you, Master. I’m having your baby. And I love you, too, Mistress.”
“Then you’re our sex slaves,” I ordered. “You’ll do whatever Mary or I tell you, no matter how depraved or filthy the command is.”
The seven sluts knelt before us, smiling up at us. “We are yours,” they said in unison, love shining in their eyes. “Forever.”
And, as the sluts enveloped Mary and me in a press of delightful female flesh, I thought I heard a chiming voice whisper, “Progress.”
“What can I do for you,” Professor Scrivener asked as I knocked at his door.
I was at the Department of Hebrew and Semitic Studies, University of Wisconsin-Madison, the Magicks of the Witch of Endor clutched in my hands. After taking the book from the Altgrave, I did my research and Professor Scrivener was a leading expert in the translation of ancient Semitic writings. He was a man in his fifties, black hair going gray, with deep, green eyes peering at me from behind horned-rim glasses. His office was small, cluttered with books and papers and I squeezed past the door and stepped carefully to his desk.
“Brandon Fitzsimmons,” I said as he shook my hand. He had a strong grip, I was surprised to discover, crushing my hand as he smiled politely at me.
“What can I do for you, Brandon?” he asked impatiently.
I handed him the book. He took it, glancing at the cover and opened it up. “Hmm, Aramaic.”
“I’ll pay you $300,000 dollars to translate the book,” I told him. “$100,000 up front and the other $200,000 on completion.”
His eyes bugged out in surprise. “Is this a joke?”
I pulled out the cashiers check made out for $100,000 dollars. It was the bulk of my money. I was hoping greed would blind the man from asking too many questions and his hands shook as he looked at the check. But, if the book contained what I hoped it would, $100,000 would be a pittance. And once he finished translating the book, well, I could find a different way to reward him. “Show this to no-one. I need complete discretion on your part. And I need it as soon as possible. I will call once a week to check on your progress. And no questions, okay?”
He licked his lips, nervous, then glanced down at the check. I could see the questions whirling in his mind, the doubts and whispers of caution. But there was that glint of avarice in his eyes as he kept glancing at the check. He wiped his sweaty palm on the leg of his brown slacks. Sweat was beading on his forehead. He glanced up at me, staring at me intently, his green eyes peering into my brown eyes. His hand shook as he folded up the check and slipped it into his pocket.
“Okay. We have a deal, Brandon.”
To be continued…
Click here for Chapter 33.