Category Archives: The Devil’s Pact

Part of my ongoing The Devil’s Pact series

Girl at the Bar Update

Hey Everyone

Hope you all enjoyed Tiffany Wants a Nooner! It’s a nice slice-of-life vignette. Devil’s Pact Chapter 42 first edit is complete. There is some nice sex coming up: Mark and a MILF, Mark/MILF/MILF’s teen daughter, Sex on a Beach, and if your a fan of hermaphrodites Lilith reenters the story and fucks Lana/Chantelle. There’s also a shadow demon.

Working on the first arc of the Battered Lamp. Unlike the Devil’s Pact, which has a slow start, this one jumps into things a little faster. Antagonist show up earlier, but there’s plenty of hot sex. Kyle Unmei doesn’t know how fateful a decision it was to buy that battered lamp, but Aaliyah is going to change his life.

I finished Girl at the Bar today and it’s available for Pre-order from Smashwords. With this coupon FH58A, it’s $0.99 to purchase. This coupon is good until 05/21/14 and only for you guys. Everyone else has to pay full price. Or if you want to win a free copy, click here.

It will be available for purchase 04-21-14.

Take care,

J

P.S.: Aren’t these women lovely?

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The Devil’s Pact Side-Story: Tiffany Wants a Nooner

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Side-Story: Tiffany Wants a Nooner

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2014


Story Codes: Male/Female/Teen female, Oral Sex, Creampie, School, Rimming, Wedded Lust

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.



Note: This takes during Chapter 34 , following Tiffany Sullivan.



Tuesday, September 24th, 2013

I was bored.

Ever since I gave my son-in-law my Gift, my life had been so busy, so full. After so many years I was happily reunited with my husband Sean, and our three beautiful daughters: Shannon, Mary, and Missy. I never thought I would get to have my family back; I always thought that the monster who enslaved me had destroyed any chances for true happiness.

Mary proved me wrong; I betrayed the forces of Heaven to have my family, my happiness, back. I have no regrets. Sean and I remarried, and I was pregnant with a child I could actually watch grow up. Of course, there were unexpected differences from all my daydreams of being reunited with my family. For one, I never thought I could make love to my daughters, let alone enjoy such deviant sex. Next to making love with my husband, being with my daughters was the best sex, and since I’ve conceived a child, I’ve also made love to Shannon’s fiance George, and Missy’s boyfriend Damien.

They weren’t Sean, but I enjoyed myself. I was curious to try out Mark; my Gift transformed him into a hunky Adonis. I loved my husband, but he looked his age, unlike me, and his waistline had lost the war against middle-age. I don’t know if I ever would get the chance to be with Mark. He may have forgiven me at Karen’s funeral two months ago, but I could tell he still resented me. I guess it will take time to heal the hurt I caused him. Maybe it never would heal; I know I can never forgive myself for the ten people that died that day in June.

Today, the house was empty. Usually there was someone around. I lived with my husband, of course, and my youngest daughter Missy. Missy’s boyfriend Damien also lived with us, along with their sex slaves: Dawn and Mrs. Corra. School had started back up and Missy, Damien, and Dawn were attending Washington High School, where Sean and Mrs. Corra taught English and Math respectively.

Normally, if there was no-one around the house, I would visit someone else in the neighborhood. Often Shannon was around, or Mark’s mother Sandy and her girlfriend Betty. Or even Mary. Today, however, no-one was around. Shannon was off in Chicago with her fiance and their sex-slave Sandra, Mary and Mark were off giving speeches to coordinate the gun-buyback happening this Saturday, and Sandy was out somewhere with her girlfriend. Even the sluts were all gone, off with Mark and Mary. The only one home was Sam, and she always made me nervous. Women shouldn’t have cocks. It was unnatural.

I had the house cleaned by 9 AM.

I was so bored.

And horny.

I’ve gotten used to getting laid, often, and I was missing it. And my pregnancy seemed to just ramp up my hormones to teenage levels. I rubbed my flat belly; I would be showing soon – I was only seven weeks pregnant – and for a moment my horniness was forgotten as I fantasized about watching my son or daughter actually grow up.

Then the lust came crashing back and I squirmed, pressing my thighs together. I needed to cum so bad! I thought about running a bath, pouring a glass of wine, and having a nice, leisurely masturbation. I even walked upstairs and stared at the bathtub. I just didn’t want to masturbate.

I wanted to get fucked.

By Sean.

Only one problem—he was at work. Then a thought occurred to me; I could go see him just like that one time many years ago. I smiled fondly, remembering when we were first married, before Shannon was born. I had the day off, and I surprised Sean at work during his lunch period. We had a nooner right there in his classroom. It was wildly exciting. You could hear the students outside the door, walking through the hallways as I was bent over his desk with my skirt hiked up and my panties bunched around my ankles, getting pounded by Sean. We both came so hard that afternoon.

We never had another nooner; it was just too risky. Sean was just starting out his career, and neither of us wanted him to lose his job. But now things were different. Mark and Mary had changed things. I glanced at my watch; if I left right now, I could make it in time for his lunch, and I could scratch the itch in my panties with a nice nooner with my hubby.

28 and 29 were my bodyguards for the day. Mary insisted that everyone have a guard just in case. Both were beautiful, young women, and I admired their slutty cop outfits that showed off their gorgeous, long legs and nearly exposed most of their tits. I didn’t feel like driving, so I just climbed into the passenger seat of 29’s squad car while 28 climbed into the back. 29 sped the entire way to Parkland, sirens blaring; there were some nice perks to having your very own police bodyguards. We got off the freeway at Steele Street, drove about a mile-and-a-half and reached Washington High School.

Students barely gave me any looks as I marched through the halls escorted by two sluttily-dressed cops. They must be used to seeing the bodyguards since a pair each escorted Sean, Missy, and Damien at school. Dawn and Mrs. Corra didn’t have guards yet; there just weren’t enough of them to protect the sex slaves. Sean’s classroom was on the first floor, and two bodyguards stood at attention, flanking the door.

“Sorry, ma’am, no-one’s allowed in,” 41 said as we approached.

I arched an eyebrow at the voluptuous woman. “I’m his wife.”

She flushed. “He said no-one is allowed in.”

“What, is he fucking a student?” I asked jokingly, then I saw their embarrassed expressions. “Seriously?”

“Uhh, yes, ma’am.”

“Out of the way,” I ordered. “Or do I need to talk to my daughter.”

41 hesitated, glancing at her partner, who shrugged. “Okay, ma’am.”

I pushed open the door, and I heard the slap of flesh and the giggly moan of a young woman. “Umm, I like it when you do that, Mr. Sullivan.”

“Well, Miss Jones, how about when I do this?” I wasn’t sure what Sean just did, but Miss Jones squealed in delight.

Walking in, I saw my husband behind a young teen bent over his desk, her jeans and panties bunched around her ankles. She had bleached-blonde hair and dark eyes with long eyelashes. She was slamming her hips back into my husband, arching her back in pleasure. Both her top and bra were gone, her perky breasts bouncing with my husband’s hard thrusts.

“What are you doing with my husband!” I shouted with mock anger.

“Oh my god!” Miss Jones gasped, turning scarlet and covering her breasts. Pity, they were a pair of beautiful, perky tits topped with pale-pink nipples.

Sean froze like a deer in headlights. “Honey, I…”

“Don’t honey me!” I snapped with my hands on my hips. “Who are you balls deep in?”

“Umm, Emily Jones,” he answered sheepishly.

“I’m so sorry, ma’am!” squeaked Emily.

I moved around the desk to the opposite side from the fucking couple, bent down and grasped her jaw, turning her face up so I could look into her pretty, brown eyes. “You can make it up to me by licking my pussy.”

“What?” she gasped.

I glanced at Sean. “Doesn’t she know English? Or is she just that bad at it that she needs to fuck you for a better grade?”

“No, she’s doing just fine,” Sean laughed, then slapped Emily’s ass. “You heard my wife,” Sean smiled. “You’ll love eating her pussy.”

“But…I…um…I’ve never…with a…um…woman.”

I stroked her cheek. “You’ll learn, Emily.”

I pulled off the t-shirt I wore, freeing my braless breasts, still perky with youth despite the fact that I was forty-four. There were definite advantages to being permanently eighteen! Sean’s eyes latched onto them as he slowly fucked Emily and a happy thrill tumbled through me. Off came my pants and panties, and I ran a finger through my blonde bush.

Emily blanched when I crawled on the desk, sweeping off papers and pens, and spread my legs in front of her. “I can’t,” she protested. “I’m not a dyke.”

I grabbed her bleached-blonde hair, pulling her face into my pussy. “There are consequences to fucking a married man! You think you can shake your tight ass and perky tits in my husband’s face and not have to pay?”

“Please!”

Her resistance was making this so much more exciting. I pulled her mouth right into my cunt and rubbed it on her face. “Lick!”

Sean’s eyes were glued to the sight of his student’s face buried in my snatch. “Go on, Miss Jones,” he urged as he fucked her pussy. “Eat my wife out! I would love to see that.”

Her tongue licked out, very hesitantly, and I shuddered in delight. “Umm, doesn’t that taste nice?”

“Yes,” she whispered, and then there was another delightful swipe of her tongue across my snatch.

“Don’t forget my clitoris.” I almost jumped off the desk when her tongue flicked across my clitoris. Sean gripped her hips and started pumping harder at her cunt, driving her eager mouth into my pussy. I grabbed my left breast, gave it a squeeze, then brought it up to my lips and just managed to give my nipple a lick.

“That’s hot, Tif!”

I smiled at my husband, then I gasped at the exciting things Miss Jones was doing to my pussy, purring, “Naughty minx. Umm, slide those fingers in and out of me. Ohh, jeez that’s wonderful!”

Her tongue flicked at my clitoris as she slipped two fingers up inside me. Emily was really getting into it. My hips were writhing, and I pulled the little trollop harder into my clitoris. Her lips sucked on it; my eyes nearly rolled back into my head as the agonizingly sweet pleasure surged through me.

“Yes, yes!” I purred, my orgasm nearing. I was so horny when I arrived, it wasn’t taking me long to cum. “Oh shoot! Umm, that feels great, Emily! Yes, yes! Oh jeez, I’m going to cum!” My orgasm crashed through me, a wonderful explosion of delight. “Oh darn it, that was amazing!”

My pussy was too sensitive and I pulled away from the teen, and walked around the desk. I pressed against my husband’s side and kissed him on the lips. “You’re an amazing wife, Tif,” he whispered as he kept fucking his student.

I slid my hand down and squeezed his ass. “You’re not too bad yourself, Sean.”

“Fuck me, Mr. Sullivan!” Emily gasped, her lips free to cry out in pleasure. “Fuck me! Oh, I’m about to explode! Your cock feels amazing! Fuck my naughty little cunt!” The student writhed on the desk, knocking off a thermos that bounced across the floor, spilling brown coffee across the white linoleum.

Sean groaned, “I love it when a teen cums on my cock!”

I slipped my hand into my husband’s ass and found his puckered asshole. I circled it, then slipped a finger inside his asshole, searching for his prostate. I felt his body go rigid when I found it, and he grunted through clenched teeth, and buried himself in Emily’s sheath. “Fill her pussy up with your cum,” I hissed in his ear, as I massaged his prostate. “I want to lick your spunk out of her!”

Sean gave two more hard thrust into Emily, then breathed heavily as he finished cumming in the little trollop. I pulled my fingers out of his ass as Sean pulled out of her cunt, and he turned and kissed me, his softening cock rubbing wetly on my belly. “I love you, Tif.”

I beamed at my husband and hugged him tightly. “I love you, too, you dirty, old teacher.”

“Um, should I go?” Emily asked. She looked embarrassed, suddenly trying to cover her breasts as she sat on the edge of the desk. I saw her pussy was messy with my husband’s cum, and she definitely was not a natural blonde, not with those dark curls matted with spunk.

“Nope.” I told her. “Lie down across the desk so I can eat your pussy out.” I could feel Sean’s cock hardening on my stomach, and I glanced at him. “You took one of Sam’s pills, didn’t you?”

He smiled sheepishly. “Yeah.”

Sam – Mark and Mary’s Vizier – had invented a magical pill that could give a guy, or a hermaphrodite, unlimited stamina for a few hours. It was the first thing the horny Cambodian girl had invented. “You were planning on fucking Emily all lunch period, huh?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Well, now you get to fuck me all lunch period,” I laughed.

“Sounds even better.”

“Good answer.”

I bent over the desk, spreading Emily’s thighs. I loved eating my husband’s cum out of another woman’s cunt. The fact that she was one of his students just made this more exciting; it was so wrong and wicked as I inhaled the aroma of her pussy: salty boy-cum mixed with tart girl-cum. Licking my lips, I bent my head down to get a taste.

“Fuck, that’s nice,” Emily moaned. “Umm, I’ve never gotten a boy to go down on me.”

“You’re in for a treat,” I promised, then buried my face in her snatch.

I licked up all of Sean’s cum, enjoying the feel of her downy hair on my lips and cheeks. I spread open her flower, licking her dark, wrinkled inner lips. I played with them, sucking them into my lips and nibbling on them, moving slowly higher, slowly closer to her clitoris. I felt Sean’s hands on my ass, giving me a squeeze, before spreading my thighs open. I sucked Emily’s clitoris into my mouth as Sean drove his cock into my sopping cunt.

I moaned around Emily’s clitoris. It was fat; maybe the largest clitoris I had ever seen—almost an inch long, and very sensitive. She came hard when my lips touched it, and her juices mixed with Sean’s cum splattered my cheeks; her fist slammed against the desk as her body bucked in pleasure. I kept right on sucking, wrapping my arms around her hips to try and hold her still.

“Holy shit!” Emily gasped. “That was hot!”

I nursed at her clitoris as Sean pounded my cunt. His cock rubbed deliciously in my tight pussy, and I gave his dick a squeeze. Sean knew how to drive me wild with his cock, changing the angle of his thrust to rub against the most sensitive parts of my pussy. He was scratching that itch that had been driving me nuts all morning, and I purred like a happy kitten into Emily’s cunt.

“Mrs. Sullivan, your mouth is the best! Oh, fuck! I’m going to cum again! I didn’t know I could…oh fuck…cum again so quickly!”

Her second orgasm wasn’t as intense, and no juices flooded my lips, but she moaned prettily as she shuddered. I released her clitoris and stuck my tongue into her hole. I tasted more cum, licking eagerly as I searched for every last trace of Sean’s spunk. Emily gripped my hair, and pulled me deeper into her pussy, grinding on my face.

I pushed her legs up, and I slipped a finger down to find her puckered asshole. I circled it with my finger, teasing her, as I kissed my lips lower, nuzzling my face into her crack. “Don’t stop eating my snatch!” she begged, then gasped as my lips started rimming her asshole. “No, stop! That’s so dirty!”

I ignored her, pushing on the tight ring of her sphincter with my tongue. I felt it give way, then my tongue was inside her ass, tasting her sour flavor. I pushed my tongue in and out of her asshole, wiggling it about as Emily convulsed, her third orgasm crashing through her; I kept right on licking her tasty ass.

“Oh, Tif, this is too hot. I’m gonna cum!”

I squeezed my cunt on his cock, eager to feel him shooting inside me. Nothing felt better than to have your man flooding your pussy with his spunk. I pinched Emily’s clitoris, and kept using my tongue as a mini-cock in her ass. Sean was grunting over and over, his thrusts becoming frantic as his orgasm neared.

“I can’t take any more pleasure!” Emily screamed. “Please stop!”

I ignored her, and kept right on sucking her asshole, stroking her clitoris like a little cock. Sean’s dick was hitting all the right places inside me, and I felt a powerful orgasm explode inside my womb. My cunt clamped down hard on Sean’s shaft, milking him for his cum, while my lips sucked hard on Emily’s ass. The teen collapsed on the desk as her fourth orgasm shuddered softly through her.

“I love you, Tif!” Sean groaned as he spilled inside me.

It felt so wonderful! I loved feeling his cum inside me. Another orgasm rippled through me, gentle and loving. I was so happy; joy warmed me up. I made my husband cum and he made me cum. It’s what we were made to do.

Sean and I coddled on his chair, and I gave him a kiss, letting him taste Emily’s pussy and ass. Then we watched the teen’s breasts heave as she lay exhausted on the table. Sweat beaded off her firm body; a happy, tired smile on her lips. After a few minutes, she finally sat up and beamed at us. “Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan. That was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

She jumped off the desk, and bent down for her panties. “No, take mine,” I told her.

I slipped off my husband’s lap, and grabbed her red panties, pulling them up my hips. We were about the same size, and they fit me nicely. Emily was a little unsure as she pulled up my lacy, sky-blue panties. She wiggled, adjusting my panties, and a naughty glint appeared in her eyes. Once she was fully dressed, she shyly said good-bye and slipped out of the classroom.

I turned to my husband, his eye staring at Emily’s panties slowly growing damp as his cum leaked out of my pussy. “I’ll be wearing these all day,” I promised. “I know how much you love smelling my used panties. Think how great this pair will smell with both of our scents on it.”

Sean groaned, “I can’t wait to get home.”

I kissed my husband. On the drive back home, I promised myself to visit him at work more often. There was something special about having a nooner with the man you loved; the pretty teen just made it that much more special.

The Devil’s Pact Chapter 41: Assassination

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Chapter 41: Assassination

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2013, 2014


Story Codes: Male/Female, Females/Teen female, Male/Females/Teen females, Mind Control, Magic, Incest, Oral, Watersports, Rimming, Violence

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. To contact me, you can leave a comment or email me at mypenname3000@mypenname3000.com, and you can contact my editor by email at dionysus40@prodigy.net.



Click here for Chapter 40.



We shall use every weapon at our disposal to slay the Tyrants, every resource that we can lay our hands on. No power is too dark, no act too heinous. We shall not balk at the task before us. We shall not rest until the Tyrants are dead. We are everywhere. We are legion.

–excerpt from ‘The Patriots Manifesto’, author Unknown

Monday, October 7th, 2013 – Mary Glassner – Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, New York City

I threw a punch at Mark’s face. He caught my wrist easily.

“He’s bigger than me, how am I supposed to fight him?” I demanded angrily of Azrael.

Ever since I took the Mother Superior’s Gift, Mark and I could summon Azrael, the Angel of Death, and form a shared dreamscape. We were using it to learn to fight, so that we could defend ourselves if we ended up in another bad situation. Mark effortlessly picked it all up thanks to his Gift, while I had to struggle to learn just the basics—it was so frustrating! The Gift was so sexist! Why did Mark get cool fighting powers? He got to summon a sword and armor and look absolutely badass when he’s fighting. All I got was the degrading power of exorcism through sex. I still felt dirty from handling Brandon’s cock. Sometimes it seemed like the vile taste of his cum would never leave my lips.

“Your foes will almost always be bigger than you, Mary,” Azrael replied in her musical voice. She sounded like bells ringing when she talked: tiny, tinkling bells when she was happy and deep, resonating bells when she was angry.

“You’re getting better, Mare,” Mark said with a smile. I knew he was just saying that to be nice, and it did make me feel warm inside. But I wasn’t getting better. I felt so clumsy, like my limbs were weighted down as I struggled to properly move them. My husband moved quickly and deliberately. Unlike me, his body moved the way he intended it to, while I stumbled and flailed like a drunk chicken.

We had already been practicing for what seemed like a day. Time worked differently in the dreams, flowed slower. Mark kept referring to Inception, and he had looked so shocked when I admitted to having never seen the movie. For the last week, we had spent every other night training in the dreams; it was too exhausting with my pregnancy for me to train every night.

It wasn’t just physical fighting we trained. We also practiced spells, trying to figure out ways to use them in sticky situations. Wind spells to knock an opponent down, illusions to confound them, and levitating to put distance between you and your enemy. And Molech’s fire was a great last resort, burning anyone who touched you. I felt like I could do more with the fire, hurl it somehow, if I could just figure out how to control it better.

I also practiced my Gift, learning the Nun’s prayers. I could control an enemy’s Thrall – so long as they weren’t bound by the Zimmah spell – transforming them into traps to be sprung on their Warlock, or I could free the Thrall, or put them into a trance and interrogate them. With Warlocks popping up all over the world, I was the only one who could exorcise them and their Thralls. By touching their cocks. So unfair.

“Let’s practice shooting,” I finally said, growing too frustrated with the hand-to-hand training.

I was great at shooting. Since we were in a dream, we could shape or conjure anything we could imagine. I had been afraid of guns – they make that loud noise when they’re fired – ever since I was little. Once I got used to them, I found that there was something very satisfying about hitting the target and seeing the damage the bullet did. I especially liked to fire at targets that resembled Brandon, aiming at his crotch.

There was power in using a gun and being in control.

Mark and I spent a few dream hours – which was probably only ten minutes in the waking world – firing various guns; it was satisfying fun. I had shot a few while awake now – the bodyguards and soldiers were very accommodating – and I had been pleased to see that my training in the dream had translated into real skill in the waking world.

I switched to shooting a 9mm automatic pistol. Probably my favorite gun. I aimed at a fresh Brandon target, lining up the front and rear sights right at his crotch. I squeezed the trigger and the gun rapidly barked and jerked upwards in my hand as it spat out bullets. The target splintered, the first few bullets striking the crotch, then there was a jerky line going up his hip into his gut. I smirked in satisfaction. Shooting effigies of Brandon never seemed to grow old.

“I hope you enjoy hell, bastard!” Mark shouted.

I chill went through me. We had sold our souls to the Devil, just like Brandon. When we die, was eternal torment going to be our reward? Mark didn’t care about damnation when he sold his soul, and I had been too wrapped up in my love for Mark when I decided to sell mine. I had wanted so badly to be his equal that I didn’t think through my decision.

I wished Sam was back from France. She should be on a plane right now, landing this evening at La Guardia. The last few days I have been studying the Magicks of the Witch of Endor, trying to find a way out of going to hell. The book hinted of a spell that would require a child, a daughter. My hand touched my belly, the only child I would ever have. If it was a girl, there was a way that Mark could gain immortality, and since I wished to live as long as Mark, I would gain it as well.

If I, or one of the sluts that is pregnant with his child, bore a daughter, we would be able to cheat the Devil and escape our fate.

“It’s alright,” Mark whispered, wrapping his arms around me.

He was such a sweet man, sensing my turmoil. I closed my eyes, feeling safe in his strong arms. I knew in my heart that we’d be together forever—even in the torments of hell. I let go of the gun – it vanished back into dreamstuff before hitting the ground – and I wiggled my ass into his hardening cock.

This was the other great benefit of the shared dream; we were sleeping hundreds of miles apart. I was in New York City, in the Waldorf-Astoria, and Mark was at the Willard Intercontinental in Washington D.C. But that didn’t matter. We could be on the far side of the world and we were only a nap away from being together. My pussy moistened as I felt his stiff cock, and I imagined myself naked. The comfortable training clothes I wore vanished into black motes.

Mark’s arousal pressed against my naked ass. “Mmm, do you need some relief?” I asked my husband.

“Always Mare,” he murmured, nuzzling my neck. “When I’m with you, I always need relief.”

His words warmed my heart. He was always sweet with me, and it was one of the reasons our open relationship worked. He can be such a heartless bastard at times, treating women as things to satisfy his lusts, but never with me. Neither of us had to suppress our dark desires from each other, from the world. We were beyond morality—we were free. Free to trust and know that our various dalliances didn’t change how we felt for each other.

Suddenly we were floating in the blue sky, weightless. My auburn hair fanned about my head, like the tendrils of an anemone swaying in a current. I laughed, spinning about. You could have so much fun in the dreams. Something soft and fluffy bumped into my back, cushioning me. It was a cloud, cotton-white. I stretched out upon it, spreading my legs open. I rubbed a finger through my waxed pussy, already damp, and brought my digit to my lips and tasted my sweet, spicy flavor.

Mark let out a low growl as I sucked on my finger, then he buried his face into my pussy. “Umm, that feels wonderful, Mark!” I groaned. His tongue slid up my petals and flicked at my clit, while his fingers spread me open, before burying his tongue into my pussy.

My husband was a great pussy eater; I writhed on the cloud, enjoying his tongue and fingers. I ran my hand through his brown hair, his blue eyes staring up at me from between my pale thighs, and I could feel his love. I hated sleeping apart from him, but we both could control people, and were more effective separate than together.

His lips found my clit and I gasped my pleasure. “Umm, eat me, my horny stallion! Oh, hun, I’m so close! You’re driving me wild!” My orgasm built quickly. His fingers slid into my pussy, and moved deliciously in and out of my cunt. I shuddered; a small climax rippled through me.

Mark kept eating me out, sucking hard on my clit. Another orgasm shot through me and I writhed on the soft cloud. “Let me suck you!” I cried out. I wanted to make my husband feel just as amazing.

He spun around easily, his body floating down to mine. I opened my mouth and engulfed his hard cock. I grabbed his firm ass, groping him and pulling his cock deep into my mouth. I could taste the salt of his pre-cum as I bobbed my head. Mark moaned his appreciation into my pussy. I pulled him deeper, relaxing my throat, and slid his entire cock into my mouth. His pubic hair tickled my cheeks as I massaged his dick with my mouth. Then, sucking hard, I slid up until only the tip remained in my mouth, swirling my tongue about the sensitive head, before deep-throating him again.

“Oh fuck! That feels amazing, Mare!” he groaned. “My naughty filly!”

Another orgasm spasmed through me, my insides squeezing tightly; I could feel my juices splashing on my husband’s face. I moaned my pleasure on his cock, my mouth humming on his sensitive head. Salty cum suddenly flooded my mouth, and I joyfully drank my husband’s seed down, enjoying the thick, salty cream.

Mark pulled away, twirling about above me and I giggled. He looked so majestic as he moved without gravity, his muscular body glistening with sweat. He was so yummy! Then he dropped back down to the cloud on top of me, and we kissed passionately, fencing each other with our tongues. I enjoyed my sweet, spicy flavor as I wrapped my legs around his hips, and pulled my husband’s cock into my aching sheath.

“Fuck me, stallion!” I moaned as he penetrated me.

He took me hard and fast, driving me into the cotton-soft cloud. His cock felt amazing inside me. The bellboy I fucked last night may have had a dick that was a little bigger than Mark’s, but he didn’t know how to use his. My husband knew my cunt intimately, and angled his thrusts to hit all the good spots inside me.

“Fuck your filly!” I panted. “God, I love your cock!”

“Is that all you love?” Mark asked with a boyish grin.

“No! I love everything about you!” I pulled his face down and kissed him madly, running my hands down his broad back to his tight ass. Since he got the Gift his ass was so yummy; I loved to play with it.

Our groins slapped together, my clit grinding hard into his pubic bone, every thrust sending sparks of pleasure burning inside me. Mark’s hand found my right breast and he played with my nipple. He broke the kiss and bent his back so he could suck my nipple into his mouth, the wonderful pressure driving me closer and closer to my climax.

“Yes, yes, yes!” I moaned over and over as his lips, his cock, drove me wild. I could feel a huge orgasm building inside me. A tsunami of passion that threatened to drown me. I couldn’t wait!

Mark switched tits, his cock pistoning rapidly in and out of my cunt. I loved it! His shaft rubbed on all the pleasant spots, sending more pleasure to the growing orgasm-tsunami. I licked my fingers, then spread his ass and found his asshole. I massaged the puckered ring, then slipped my fingers in and found his prostate.

“Holy shit!” Mark groaned as his cock exploded inside me.

I loved massaging his prostate. I would only do it once in a while because I loved his surprised reaction; his dick always seemed to flood an extra pint of cum – all warm and sticky – inside me when I did it, right where it belonged. He buried his cock all the way inside me as the last of his semen poured out, and I rubbed my clit on his pubic bone. I came! My orgasm washed through me, surging through every fiber of my being in wave after wave of rapture.

“I love you!” I screamed as the torrent of passion overwhelmed me. As it receded, I reveled in the feel of Mark’s strong arms holding me, his face nuzzling my neck.

We cuddled on that cloud for what seemed an eternity, my husband inside me, our lips gently kissing each other, loving each other. We didn’t talk; we were beyond words, and just enjoyed each other’s presence.

When I woke up, I was in the Waldorf-Astoria. The very suite Mark and I had stayed at the first time we came to New York. I smiled, remembering our first night, and the wild foursome we had with Rachel and Leah in this very bed. Xiu was snuggled up against me, the busty Asian slut’s tits pressed into my back. Jessica’s caramel face was inches from mine. She looked so peaceful as she slept. I closed the distance, and kissed her on the lips.

Her brown eyes opened and she smiled. “Good morning, Mistress.”

Xiu moved, rubbing against me from behind, her lips nuzzling at my neck. “Morning, Mistress,” she murmured sleepily.

I turned over and grabbed Xiu’s nipple jewelry, a pink butterfly dangling on a silver chain from a barbell piercing, and gave it a hard, painful tug. Xiu gasped in pain, lust shining in her eyes. Xiu was a masochist and nothing got her wetter than having her nipple piercings painfully pulled. “I have to pee,” I told her.

Xiu threw back the covers and slid down my body, spreading my pussy open. Her mouth latched onto my urethra and I relaxed, sighing as I pissed into her mouth. I could feel her sucking and swallowing all of my urine. The nasty sounds she made as she drank my piss just made my pussy wetter. Pleasure tingled through me as the pee flowed out. Once you’ve experienced peeing in a pretty woman’s mouth, how can you possibly ever use a toilet again?

Jessica bent over and captured one of my dusky nipples and started sucking as I finished peeing in Xiu’s mouth. The Asian slut licked at my pussy, searching for any errant drops of piss. Her tongue felt great, far better than any toilet paper, thick and agile, not rough. She was gentler than Mark, her lips and tongue softer on my pussy. My husband was a hound, aggressively licking me out, whereas Xiu was a cat, taking gentle, careful licks. They weren’t better or worse, just different. She licked through every fold and crevasse of my pussy, before her tongue started to lightly flick at my clit.

“Fuck yes!” I moaned. “I love your tongues on me, sluts!”

“We live to pleasure you and Master,” Jessica purred, reaching over to finger my other nipple as she sucked on the first.

The door opened and April walked in, naked save for her glasses and choker, carrying a tray that had a few sliced honeydew melons and a bowl of oatmeal. She set the tray on the nightstand and slipped into bed. The nerdy girl quickly sucked my other nipple into her mouth. Her legs wrapped around my right thigh and her wet pussy rubbed on my skin, slippery wet and hot.

“Looks like a party in here,” giggled Lillian.

The goth slut strutted in, dressed in a black corset that cupped her small, pale breasts and left her pink nipples bare. A very short skirt made of black gauze barely covered her pussy and her pale thighs were clad in black stockings held up by lacy, red garters.

I licked my lips. “Come sit on my face, Lillian.”

“Oh, I would love that, Mistress.”

Lillian practically skipped to me, climbing up onto the bed and straddling my face. Her pussy was shaved and I could smell her tart arousal as she lowered her wet cunt to my eager lips. I licked through her pussy, enjoying her flavor and the moans that issued from her lips. I began mimicking what Xiu was doing to my pussy. When Xiu’s tongue slipped into my sheath, I shoved my tongue into Lillian’s cunt, enjoying the feel of the silky, wet walls on my tongue. Then Xiu nibbled gently at my clit.

“Oh, Mistress!” Lillian gasped as I gently nipped at her clit with my teeth. “That feels wonderful. Thank you, thank you! I’m the luckiest slut in the world!”

April and Jessica continued nursing at my breasts, their lips and tongues sending pleasure tingling from my nipples down to my womb. Jessica sucked hard, nipping at my nipple, while April let her tongue do most of the work, swirling about my nub, then gently kissed my breast, while she humped hard at my thigh; I loved the feel of her cream on my skin. I had three mouths kissing and licking me, driving me closer and closer to a shuddering orgasm. When it finally exploded inside me, I screamed my pleasure into Lillian’s pussy.

“Fuck yes!” moaned Lillian, cumming and flooding my mouth with her tart juices. “Thank you! Oh, thank you, Mistress!”

Lillian cuddled next to me, and I reached over her to grab a slice of honeydew melon as Xiu, April, and Jessica slipped into a daisy chain on the floor. I took a bite of the sweet melon, listening to the moans of pleasure from the three sluts, when I felt nausea churn in my stomach and I bolted to the bathroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mark Glassner – The Willard Intercontinental – Washington D.C.

This morning sickness is all your fault, Mark Glassner! Mary sent. I could feel her discomfort in her thoughts.

I was balls deep in Desiree’s pussy, fucking the Latina slut as she ate out Tibby’s cunt, one of the two women I brought up to my hotel room last night. The other woman was Tibby’s teenage daughter Bryanna, who knelt next to Desiree as Alison sucked my cum out of the teen’s ass. I was enjoying one last romp with the mother and daughter before I left to attend to Congress.

Just think of our daughter, I sent back. Just picture how beautiful she’ll be when you hold her in your arms.

Who are you fucking? There was a strange, accusatory tinge to her thought.

Desiree while she eats out this MILF’s ass. Alison is next to us, eating my cum out of the daughter’s ass.

You’re having an orgy while your wife is suffering?

I frowned and stopped thrusting into Desiree. What’s wrong, Mare?

I just hate vomiting. And I wish you were here. I like it when you hold my hair. It’s not the same with Lillian.

It’s only until tomorrow. Then I’ll be there to hold your hair. I love you.

I love you too. You can keep fucking Desiree. Make her scream for me and give my love to the other sluts.

I resumed thrusting back into Desiree’s cunt. “Was that mi Reina?” she asked.

“Yeah, she said she loves all of her sluts.”

Alison beamed, her lips sticky with cum. “Don’t stop!” Bryanna gasped. “I’m so close to cumming. Keep licking me slut!”

Alison giggled and dived back into the teen’s ass. Desiree’s cunt squeezed on my cock; the slut was desperate for my cum. My balls tightened; I was nearing that wonderful edge, about to plummet off into the rapture of release.

“Fucking slut!” I groaned, slapping her full ass, watching her nut-brown cheeks jiggle.

“Cum in me, mi Rey!” she cooed. “Fill me with your spunk so I can make Alison eat me out.”

“Umm, I would love that,” Alison purred. “I love eating Master’s cum out of a woman’s hole, particularly when that woman’s my sexy wife!”

“Then keep eating my ass if you love his cum!” Bryanna moaned. “Oh Momma, I’m so close to cumming!”

“Me too, pumpkin,” Tibby gasped. “Oh god, her tongue is driving me wild. This slut is an expert on muff diving!”

“I taught her well,” Alison giggled. “Make that bitch howl, my Latin beauty!”

“Umm, I will, mi Sirenita. And I want to hear that teenage puta explode on your lips!”

“Oh fucking yes! I’m going to explode!” the teen girl shouted. “Holy shit! Her tongue’s wiggling up my butthole! Oh my Gods! Oh my fucking Gods!” Her body shook and she collapsed onto her belly. There was a pleased look on Alison’s face—a self-satisfied cat licking her lips.

I was almost there, just a few more strokes and I would be basting Desiree’s snatch with a huge load of cum. I gripped her hips and slammed into her, savoring every velvety inch of her cunt as my cock plowed in and out. She felt wonderful, driving my balls to distraction, and I unloaded inside her with a low grunt.

“Oh yes, oh yes!” Tibby panted, her pussy grinding into Desiree’s face. Tibby collapsed on the bed, quaking as her orgasm crashed through her.

Desiree hadn’t climaxed yet, so, after I pulled out of her cunt, I grabbed her clit and rolled it between my fingers a few times. She bucked and screamed, orgasming hard. Her cunt still gaped open; I could see the pink muscles inside spasming as she came, expelling my white cum with her juices.

“Thank you, mi Rey!”

“That was fucking hot!” Alison moaned, then kissed her wife as her fingers rapidly frigged her clit. The two sluts shared the flavor of a mother’s cunt and a daughter’s ass as Alison writhed, her orgasm shivering through her.

I sent Bryanna and her mother off, both bubbling with joy at spending the night with their God. Violet brought in my breakfast: scrambled eggs with cheese, bacon, and hash browns. I wolfed it down and dressed in the suit that Korina had laid out for me. The sluts wore their provocative clothes: Violet was the naughty schoolgirl this morning, Alison was stunning as a slutty genie, Desiree wore a naughty nurse’s outfit, and Korina dressed as a sexy goth girl.

The crowd waiting outside was even larger than last night, a tide somehow being held back by my soldiers, surging against them in their eagerness to see me. My soldiers were calling themselves the Legion: nearly 10,000 Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marines that had sworn oaths of fidelity to me and had been bound by the Ragily prayer, the Monk version of the Zimmah spell. Unlike the Warlock spell, Ragily didn’t bind their life-force to me, but they would stay loyal as long as they served, and were gifted with certain advantages in fighting the supernatural.

A cadre of the bodyguards formed up around me, dressed as sexy cops. All were volunteers now, and their numbers had swelled to one hundred—all bound to me by the Zimmah spell. My poor mom’s cunt was getting raw from the number of times I had to fuck her earlier this week to bind all these cops to me. 51, commander of the bodyguards, saluted me.

“Good morning, sir,” she said, a smile on her ebony face.

“Let’s get going,” I said after greeting her with a kiss. Two of the bodyguards opened the hotel door and I stepped out to the cheering crowd.

Everything went blue around me, a shimmering field of rippling energy.

I froze; someone just shot at me and the bullet was deflected by my amulet. A loud gunshot cracked across the square and all the bodyguards and soldiers drew their weapons, scanning the crowd. Fear spurred my heart into overdrive and flooded ice through my veins. I was engulfed in blue two more times in rapid succession. I caught a muzzle flash from an apartment window to my left across the street. Only, it looked like the drapes were still drawn across that window.

I stared at the window and saw the fourth muzzle flash – a tongue of red-orange fire – pass through the curtain, but not disturb the fabric in anyway, before everything went blue around me again. One of the bodyguards tried to draw me back and I shook her off. I could see soldiers already pushing through the crowd, racing to that building while the counter-snipers on the hotel’s roof opened fire.

An idea popped into my head. There were news crews here – wherever Mary or I went, there were always news and paparazzi around – and they were broadcasting the attack to the world. This was the perfect opportunity to demonstrate some Godly powers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jerrold Baxter

After the fourth shot bounced off the Tyrant’s shield I stopped firing and retreated from the window. The counter-snipers had figured out my position and were firing blindly at me, and one round had already whizzed past my head. I quickly disassembled my rifle and put it into its case. The soldiers out on the streets would be in the building and crashing through this apartment door in about a minute.

Plenty of time to escape.

I unsheathed a bronze knife. “Pasaq! I shouted and stabbed the air. My knife sank into nothingness, the tip vanishing seemingly into thin air. I started to saw the knife, cutting through the very fabric of reality, and began carving a portal to the Shadows.

Slipping into the Shadows, the highest level of the Abyss, was not for the faint of heart, but it was a useful spell Noel had taught us after we made our Pacts. The best part: this spell wasn’t found in the Magicks of the Witch of Endor. Noel was positive that Mark knew nothing about it. Apparently, after Noel had been freed from the Tyrants’ slavery, she had used her time to research the occult, and she found several other grimoires that had spells in them.

Spells that worked once we all had sold our souls to the Devil.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mark Glassner

“Get inside, Master!” 51 shouted at me.

“Stay back!” I ordered her. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

51 let go of me and I unleashed Molech’s flames. The fire danced harmlessly on me, but anyone touching me would be burned. I then muttered, “Uwph,” the levitation spell, and soared over the crowd towards that window. This was the perfect opportunity to demonstrate my Godly Powers, and I swallowed my fear. Flying – even a few stories above the ground – unnerved me. I focused on the window, trying to ignore the growing distance between me and the ground. As I flew, I summoned my armor, the gold materializing about me, weighing me down slightly and forcing me to correct my trajectory.

I braced myself to crash through the window, crossing my arms and relying on my armor’s forearm-guards – the vambraces – to protect my face. Only nothing was there. It was an illusion. I landed in a living room that looked like it belonged to an old lady, tidy, adorned with doilies and vases and pictures of children hanging on the walls. In the center of the room was a man, dark haired and muscular, somehow drawing lines that glowed white in the air.

Drawn by a dagger that appeared to be sunk into nothingness. What the hell was he doing?

The man whirled, yanking his dagger out of the nothingness. It was bronze and glinted sharply as the man went into a fighting stance, the dagger held low. I slipped into an aikido stance, the martial art Azrael had taught me in my dreams. We eyed each other for a moment and then he lashed out with the knife.

I followed the arc, slid to the side and went to grab his knife hand. He moved; I missed the grab, his dagger scraping harmlessly across my gold breastplate. His foot lashed out and caught me on the knee between the greeves and the metal skirt; the pain flashed through me.

I limped back and peered at him and saw only a black aura. He was a Thrall. “Stop!” I ordered him.

He ignored me.

How the hell did he do that? There was no red fringe around his black aura; he wasn’t under the Zimmah ritual. So why didn’t my power work on him? As I pondered that, he thrust his knife at my face; I quickly brought my arm up and let the stroke glance off my vambrace. I grabbed his hand, shutting off my flames – I wanted to capture the assassin, not burn him to death – and grappled him.

Are you okay, Mark? Mary’s thought suddenly intruded as the assassin and I fell to the floor in a heap of grasping limbs.

Busy! I thought back.

Oh God, Mark! Be careful!

The man was on top of me, his dagger slamming down at my face. I grabbed his wrist with my right hand, halting his blow. We strained against each other. I threw an awkward punch at his face with my left hand and he blocked it. I heaved, and rolled him onto his back. He landed hard and the knife skittered away from him. I drew back my fist and punched him as hard as I could in the face.

My fist landed on his brow; I almost screamed in pain as I broke two of the knuckles on my right hand on his skull. The man blinked, looking stunned and trying to shake off the blow, while blood poured from a cut in his eyebrow. I grabbed the knife with my left hand and placed it at his throat.

“Who are you!” I demanded.

“A patriot,” he spat back. “Kill me, Tyrant. You will learn nothing from me!”

“How are you ignoring my commands?”

He spat in my face, stinging my eyes. Anger flashed through me like a firestorm and for a moment I started to press the knife into his throat before I stopped myself. You need him alive, I reminded myself. Adrenaline pounded through me, making it hard to think straight. This man tried to kill me and every instinct made me want to drive the dagger home in retribution. I took in a deep breath, trying to ignore the pain in my wrenched knee and broken knuckles, and calmed myself down.

There was an explosion at the door, wooden splinters raining, followed by my shouting soldiers. They froze in surprise and snapped to attention.

“My Lord,” the sergeant saluted in surprise.

“Take him,” I ordered, rolling off the man.

As the soldiers grabbed the assassin, I closed my eyes and concentrated on healing my broken knuckles and wrenched knee. The pain melted away as the bones reknit and torn ligaments mended. I stood up, dismissing my armor, and it fell off me in golden sparkles. The prisoner was bound with plastic cuffs and the soldiers were searching him roughly.

I’m safe, Mary, I sent.

What were you thinking! Mary demanded. I just watched you on the news, flying like a comet at the man who tried to kill you! We have bodyguards and soldiers for shit like that! I about had a heart-attack watching your idiocy!

I felt sheepish. Sorry, Mare. I thought it would be good PR. You know, Gods shouldn’t run from danger.

Good PR? Good fucking PR? I could feel an almost hysterical incredulity through the sending. You idiot! You’re too important to risk on goddamn foolishness like that.

I let the insult slide; she was just scared. Watch out, Mare. This guy looked like a regular Thrall, but he ignored my orders.

Unease filled her sending, Sam gets back tonight. I’m flying down to D.C. with her as soon as her plane lands.

What about the UN?

The UN can go fuck itself, Mark! Her fear and concern poured through the sending. I need to see that you’re all right. In person. I can always fly back to New York tomorrow in time.

Okay, Mare. Love you.

I love you too, even if you can be pigheadedly stupid sometimes. Good PR!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sheila Robbins, New York City

“Pasaq!” I shouted and stabbed my bronze knife into the air and slowly drew open a portal into the Shadows.

I was in an apartment looking down at the Waldorf-Astoria, the owner sleeping peacefully on his bed. On the news, they were showing Baxter getting dragged out, captured by Mark. I cursed, the Tyrant was far more powerful than Noel had reckoned. How had he deflected the bullet? The news clearly showed that the first shot caught the bastard off-guard.

I didn’t have time to think about that now. Down at the hotel, I could see Mary’s party preparing to leave and I jumped into the Shadows.

Clearly, sniper rifles were not the way to defeat them. They must have some sort of spell in place to protect them from gunfire. I was going to try a different way to kill Mary. I could slip through the Shadows and pop out right behind her and shove my dagger through her back before anyone could react. I knew just where to strike to slide past the ribs and find her heart. My blade was thick; it would destroy her heart. She would be dead before a cardiothoracic surgeon could even have a chance to save her.

Ten years in the CIA had taught me a few things.

I was surprisingly calm as I moved through the Shadows. I was going to die. It was unavoidable. Once I stepped out, I would have a few seconds to plunge my knife into her back before all those soldiers and sluts they called bodyguards would react and gun me down. It would be worth it. I would have killed one of the Tyrants.

Sometimes the mission is so important, so vital, to your Country’s freedom that you have to give up your life. A lesson I learned at the Farm during my training. I had spent years in backwater hellholes to protect my Country, so there was no way in hell I could stand back and watch the Tyrants destroy it. I was prepared to die to keep it free.

Moving through the Shadows was different. Distances didn’t measure directly. After taking a few steps, I could see Mary through the mists when I concentrated. I thrust my dagger into the veil that separated the mortal world and the afterlife, and started to carve my portal. It was faster to create on this side, somehow easier to return to the mortal world than to enter the spiritual. I drew the portal rapidly, my heart beating faster and faster. Three sides down, my knife sliding upwards to complete the doorway.

I was going to die with Mary’s blood on my blade.

A cold hand grabbed me and yanked me backwards face-to-face with a blonde, naked woman. She stared fiercely into my eyes; hers were blue and filled with an icy fury. “You will not touch our Mistress,” she hissed. Anger filled her voice, a terrible, cold rage that I had never felt in the living.

Our? I glanced around as I struggled in her cold grip only to see more women. Maybe a dozen of them, surrounding me. Shit! I stabbed my bronze knife at the blonde’s chest, aiming for her heart. I would need to kill her quickly if I had any chance against the rest. The blade bounced off her breast, the tip slightly bent. The blonde didn’t even seem to notice the blow.

“You should not have come here, mortal,” the blonde told me. She had Scandinavian cheekbones and she reminded me of a Valkyrie—beautiful, implacable, deadly.

Her other hand lashed out, grabbing my throat, and squeezed. I struggled in vain as cold fingers choked off my air. No! I couldn’t die! Not without stabbing that Mary in the fucking heart! I could not fail and let that bitch live!

I tried to saw through the fingers about my throat with the bronze blade, while my booted feet lashed at her legs. My toe cracked against her shin, and my knife didn’t even seem to irritate the skin of her fingers. My vision fuzzed, everything going black around me as my lungs burned for oxygen.

No! No! No! I will not be defeated by some naked, blonde bimbo!

The knife clattered from my hand. The strength fled my body. It was getting too hard to think; my vision reduced to a narrow tunnel filled with her fierce, blue eyes. No, I weakly protested as the tunnel shrank, narrowed, vanished.

I was falling, falling, falling.

Into darkness. Into fire.

“Welcome, welcome,” a familiar voice roared as the flames began to consume me, cracking my skin. Lucifer appeared before me, shining like the sun. A red chain – molten, burning – bound about my neck, led to him. It was one of thousands. Everywhere I looked there were burning men and women; all the foolish idiots that sold their souls to him.

Oh God, I made a mistake. I tried to scream, but the flames burned down my throat when I opened my mouth, filling every fiber of my soul with pain. Nothing was worth this torment. No Country, no Flag, no person. Oh God, nothing was worth this torment!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mark Glassner – Washington D.C.

The Honorable Senator from the Great State of Texas was speaking when I walked into the Senate. His eyes fixed flinty on me as a great uproar went through the room. All the senators who were not under my power pulled earplugs out of their pockets and quickly put them into their ears. Irritation flashed through me; people were getting wise to the limitations of our powers. It didn’t matter; my soldiers had already surrounded the Capital Building, trapping most of the Senators and Congressmen inside.

The Senator from Texas, Ronald Bybee, put in his own earplugs and kept orating, “The Great State of Texas can no longer stand-by and watch as our Great Nation kowtows to this monster!” His finger pointed at me, jabbing with such violence like he wanted to reach across the room and plunge his finger deep into my heart. “Governor Holt has asked me to convey his decisions. As of today, October 7th, 2013, the Great State of Texas secedes from the Union and will once again be the Republic of Texas!”

I surveyed the Senators. Half looked worshipfully at me, kneeling down, while their colleagues with their earplugs either scowled defiantly or stared fearfully at me. Up in the gallery, the C-SPAN cameras rolled. The Legion streamed around me, fanning about the room, their boots echoing loudly.

“Do not kill anyone,” I ordered. “Remove their earplugs.”

I watched as my soldiers surged into the Senators. I felt a pang of guilt. I was betraying everything my Country stood for: Freedom, Liberty, Democracy. Our forefathers had reject the tyranny of Kings, and here I was imposing the harsher tyranny of a God upon them. It was all for the greater good, I told myself. Mary hinted that something bad was coming; we needed to prepare the world. Besides, once we had every man, woman, and child enthralled to us there would be an end to violence—to the suffering that men callously inflicted on each other. Everyone would be happy and live peacefully with their neighbors.

That was worth a little tyranny, right?

33 governors and 11 lieutenant governors arrived for the meeting. Six States didn’t send anyone, Mary sent. She was at a meeting of State Governors; we needed to get the State Governments under our thumbs just as much as the Federal Government. How is it going at Congress?

I take it Texas is one of the six that didn’t send a representative?

How did you know? Surprise pulsed in her thought.

Texas just seceded from the Union.

Does the Govenor of Texas know you have his National Guard under your control? Mary asked.

He’s about to find out the hard way, I’m afraid. I paused, considering Mary’s news. I think we should arrest those governors that just sent their lieutenants, and place their lieutenants in charge of those States.

Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. Bitter regret filled her reply. Are we doing the right thing?

Hopefully, Mare.

The commotion had died down, the resistant Senators had been cowed and were under guard; their earplugs removed. Only a few of them had to be roughly handled. Geraldine Medley, one of Washington State’s two senators walked up to the podium. “Senators, I’m proud to welcome our Lord and Protector, Mark Glassner!”

The loyal senators clapped and a few of the more bold, captured senators booed as I strode up to the Podium. “I am here today to have the Senate confirm that I am your loving God, here to protect you from the coming Darkness.”

As I spoke, my enemies became my most fervent allies. The Senate passed a constitutional amendment declaring us the Gods of America and our worship as the official State Religion. Then they agreed to a treaty placing America beneath the auspices of our Theocracy—the first sovereign state to be brought beneath our world government. They passed other laws, stripping all other religions of their tax exemption and further imposing a tax on all churches, synagogues, temples, mosques, shrines, and any other place of worship that didn’t follow us.

With the Senate in hand, I walked over to the House of Representatives to deal with the Congressmen and -women. My soldiers had already secured them and, after I had finished speaking, they unanimously voted for the laws, treaty, and amendments that the Senate had passed. I felt dirty as I left Congress, and kept telling myself it was all for the greater good.

After leaving Congress, I visited a few of the Embassies in D.C.: the British, French, and German, and placed their ambassadors under our control. The situation with Europe was tense. All the world leaders not under our power were avoiding our phone calls, making it difficult to get them under control. The ones that were under our power were facing considerable political turmoil. The Prime Minister of Britain, loyal to us, had been forced to resign by a Motion of No Confidence. Various parties were now vying for power in their Parliament. Worse happened to the unfortunate President of Pakistan: he had been beheaded by fundamentalists rallying behind the Taliban.

Mary arrived at the hotel that evening, flying down from New York just like she promised. It had been a long day, and I was tired and happy to see my wife.

“Mark!” Mary cried, rushing to me and throwing her arms around my neck and kissing me on the lips. Her hands ran all over my body. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

“No, no, I’m fine, Mare!”

Then she poked me hard in the chest. “You need to be more careful! Good PR! Really, Mark?”

“Sorry.”

Then she kissed me again and clung to me. Beyond my wife, I could see both Sam and Candy. They both looked tired and Candy had her arms wrapped around Sam’s waist. “You have it?” I asked them.

“Yes, sir,” Sam answered. “Though we did run into some trouble.”

Mary nodded. “I had to heal Candy. She had a badly broken leg, and Sam had some cuts too.”

“What happened?”

“Lilith,” Candy spat. “One of her children.”

“An Alukah,” Sam explained. “A type of vampire. It killed two police officers and almost drained me dry of my blood.” Sam glanced fondly at Candy. “But she saved my life.”

Candy flushed. “It was nothing, Sam. You would have done the same for me.”

“She was amazing,” Sam continued. “She broke her leg jumping out of a second story window and then dragged herself back into the Motherhouse to save me.” Sam gave her a brief kiss on the lips. “Anyway, I can start constructing the Matmown right away.”

“Good,” Mary smiled, then glanced at me. “So, you captured a man immune to your powers?”

Sam’s eyes lit up. “A Warlock?”

“No, he has a black aura. Only, there’s no red fringe indicating he’s under the Zimmah spell,” I answered.

“Interesting,” Sam smiled.

“That’s one word for it,” I muttered as I led them to the elevator.

The elevator creaked down to the basement. The walls were bare, mortared concrete blocks, the floor a hard slab of more concrete. Soldiers guarded a utility room and muffled heavy metal music bled through the door. Was that Cannibal Corpse? The soldiers saluted, then they opened the door.

The assassin was handcuffed to a chair, a black bag over his head. A CIA interrogator leaned against the wall and straightened when I entered. He quickly turned the music off and the room plunged into ringing silence.

“What have you learned?” I asked.

The CIA interrogator shrugged. “Not much, my Lord. He’s Agent Jerrold Baxter, FBI. Thirteen years in the FBI, seven as an HRT sniper.” I frowned at the acronym. “Hostage Rescue Team. A counter-terrorist unit. Highly trained. No black marks on his record, three citations for bravery and one Medal of Valor, a very prestigious award in the FBI.”

Mary pulled the mask off the man then stuck a finger underneath her skirt. It came away wet with her juices and she traced a symbol on the man’s head—the Mark of Qayin. It was necessary to anchor any prayers she needed to cast on the prisoner. She murmured a Nun’s prayer, then frowned, straightening. “He’s not a Thrall.”

I looked at my wife in confusion. “What? His aura?”

“If he were a Thrall he would be staring blankly ahead,” Mary replied.

“It is possible he’s a Warlock,” Sam suggested. “If he made the right wish, perhaps it could have camouflaged his aura. Or perhaps there is a spell that can do the same.”

Mary reached down and unzipped his pants, pulling out his cock. “What the fuck!” the assassin gasped.

Mary grimaced and stroked him, then bent down and sucked his cock into her mouth. A bewildered expression filled the assassin’s face as Mary’s head bobbed up and down. I gritted my teeth, hating to see my wife degrade herself. Memories flashed through my mind of Brandon holding her face, ramming his cock into her mouth, while she pretended to love it. I fought down the bile and anger. If I could I would bring Brandon back from the dead just to put another bullet in his head.

Sweat broke out on the man’s face and I could see him struggling to resist. He fought against his orgasm for a while, but Mary never stopped sucking, one hand gently massaging his balls. She alternated between deep-throating him, and licking just the tip of his cock. He squirmed in the chair; his face grew red and his breath quickened.

“Shit!” he moaned.

Mary quickly pulled her mouth off his cock, white cum shooting up into the air, and hissed, “Shalak.” The Mark of Qayin blazed white on the man’s head and his aura became silver.

A regular mortal’s aura.

Mary coughed and spat out his cum. The CIA interrogator handed her a water bottle and she noisily washed her mouth out, spitting into the corner of the room as I studied the man. My mind whirled. A Warlock that looked like a Thrall. A quarter of the nation must be under our powers by now; a sea of people that a Warlock with the right wish or spell could hide in. I glanced at Sam: eyes furrowed, mind churning away. She was always thinking, always working out problems..

“Why did you try to kill me?” I finally asked.

His aura turned black as my power affected him. “For Liberty!” he spat. “Did you think that you could enslave our Great Nation and patriots would not rise up and fight you?”

“There are more of you?” Mary asked, walking back.

“Many,” he spat. “We will not rest until you two are dead!”

“What are their names?” I demanded.

He frowned, and struggled to talk. “I…can’t…say!” he gasped.

“Ask him what his wishes were,” Sam suggested. I did.

“I wished to be immune from another person’s control; to make my aura appear black like a Thrall’s; and that anyone who signed our pledge could not have their names revealed to the Tyrants, Mark and Mary Glassner, and any who serve them.” He laughed, an almost maniacal, unhinged sound. “You see, as long as one of us still has our Pact, no-one can be forced to reveal our names!”

“You all made a Pact?”

His grin was wild. “All the Patriots! I may have failed today, but there will be others. We shall not stop! We are everywhere! We are legion!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

General Gonzalo Olmos – The Governor’s Mansion, Austin, Texas

Governor Quincy Holt, the traitor to his Gods and Country, stood on the porch of the Governor’s Mansion besides the massive, white Doric columns that supported the roof. Local and national media were in attendance, filming the traitor as he prepared to make his speech declaring that Texas had seceded from the Union. The lawn was full of men and women cheering and clapping, waving Texan flags.

No US Flag flew on the mansion, only the State Flag. The Republic of Texas’s flag.

“It is with a heavy heart that I made my decision,” the traitor said into the microphones. “But I could not let the Great State of Texas fall into the hands of a false messiah. There is only one God, and his name is not Mark Glassner!”

A great cheer went up from the crowd. Signs were waved, reading: “Jesus is my savior, not Mark,” “ ‘Thou shalt have no gods before me.’ Exodus 20:3,” “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the exercise thereof!” and many more.

They were all traitors.

“General Olmos,” Captain Brentmeyers saluted.

I was the Adjutant General for the Texan National Guard. When Governor Holt mobilized the Guard to secede from the Union, I had been so sick to my stomach. His actions today would not pass unanswered. I would help my Gods preserve this Great Nation and not let some disgusting politician pull it apart like a murder of crows over a carcass. There would be no second Civil War if I could help it.

All of my soldiers agreed with me.

“Everything is ready, sir,” the captain told me, his young face pale.

“It will be okay, son,” I told him, clasping his shoulder and giving him a reassuring squeeze. “For our Country and for our Gods.”

He swallowed, straightening his back. “Yes, sir!”

The traitor continued his speech as I marched along the edge of the crowd towards the porch. My soldiers were positioned around the lawn, supposedly a show of support for the traitorous Governor. The bastard nodded to me – a jovial smile crossing his fat, ruddy face and a pleased, oily look filled his eyes as he saw me; the disgusting slug lusted for power – as I climbed the stairs to join him.

“General Olmos and I will protect…”

His oily eyes bulged in surprise as I drew my service handgun – a Colt .45 with a nickle-plated grip that I had polished until it gleamed like silver – and placed it to the traitor’s forehead. “For Mark and Mary!” I roared and executed him.

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 42.

The Devil’s Pact, Ghost of Paris Chapter 4: The Public Library

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

The Ghost of Paris Chapter Four: The Public Library

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2014


Story Codes: Male/Female, Mind Control, Magic, Exhibitionism, Work

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 3.



Friday, September 13th, 2013 – Paris, Texas

There was an away game, so there was no cheerleading practice this afternoon.

I missed those sweet, young Lionesses, and their even sweeter cooches. Every afternoon this week, just like last week, I had spent it with the cheerleaders, fucking one of them behind the bleachers, while the others practiced. It was an arrangement we reached; I had been disrupting their practices too much, so the girls started drawing straws to see who would keep me entertained.

Since I had nothing to do this afternoon, I wandered on over to the Paris Public Library. I was dressed for the first time in the two weeks since I made my Pact with the Devil. Why did I need clothes when I could turn invisible? It was strange, feeling clothes on my body: the t-shirt was tight on my chest, almost like it was strangling me, and the pants chaffed my thighs, keeping my pecker from flopping about. I stole the clothes out of the house I haunted last night; the daughter was a good tumble and her daddy was about my size.

I found an open computer and went to my favorite website: the Unearth Arcana. A website dedicated to every supernatural phenomenon you could imagine, and not just the usual bigfoot, UFO’s, and end of the world prophecies. You could find someone explaining how the layout of the major cities of Europe fell on the leylines and were part of an ancient Druidic summoning spell to bring forth Samhain in the year 2035.

I loved this shit; eager to see what the whackjobs had come up with next.

Of course, it wasn’t all bullshit—I did learn how to summon the Devil on this very forum. In fact, that was the first thread I checked out on the message board. As I scrolled through the pages of post, it seemed more people were posting that they made their Pacts. My favorite was a guy in Scotland that wished to have superman’s powers and posted a link of him melting a soda-pop can with his heat vision.

Finished with the Pact thread, I checked out what was new in the paranormal. One post title caught my eye: The Ghost of Paris.

I smiled, opening up the post and reading about my adventures. It was full of quotes from tweets, facebook pages, and other social media posts of the girls I had been playing with. “I have spoken to several girls that claim to have been molested by the ghost,” ghostXhunt wrote. “The ghost preys on young girls and women, using them to satisfy his unnatural lusts.”

I tried not to chortle in excitement, ghostXhunt investigated a lot of hauntings, and it was flattering to think she had traveled out to Paris because of me. Man, I hope I see her around town; she’s one mighty fine looking gal. “Often the ghost spends an entire night preying on one girl. What is truly interesting is all the girls found the experience to be quite pleasant. One girl, wishing to remain anonymous, told me the ghost has visited her room three times in the night and she’s eagerly awaiting a fourth.”

That must be Heather, a smoking-hot red-head that was quite a screamer; good thing her parent’s bedroom was at the other side of the house. She was the first girl I ever spent the night with as the Ghost. In fact, I was with her just two nights ago and fucked her ass for the first time. My pecker was growing hard just thinking about her fine, young body and that tight, wet hole between her thighs.

I glanced at the librarian, Miss Cheshire, who was looking sexy as hell with her tawny hair pinned up and those small glasses perched on her cute, little nose. I let my gaze slide down and eyed the tits that filled out her gray blouse.

I licked my lips as I stared at the Ghost of Paris’s next victim.

In the bathroom, I striped naked and stashed my clothes. I concentrated and my body vanished. I smiled; I was free again. Why did I even bother wearing clothes? I could have just used the computer invisible. So what if anyone saw me; I’m the fucking Ghost of Paris and I could do whatever the hell I wanted.

Who could stop me?

I stalked out of the bathroom, heading towards the counter. Miss Cheshire was helping an old woman, using one of those scanners – like the ones you see at the grocery store that shines all of those red lights to ring up your purchase – on the book’s barcode. School was still in session and the library was mostly empty; only a few, old broads, part of some sort of club, were hanging around.

“I reckon you’ll enjoy this one, Mrs. Crabapple,” drawled Miss Cheshire. Her voice sounded as sweet as honey dripping over moist cornbread.

To get behind the counter, there was a section of it that folds up, and both Miss Cheshire and Mrs. Crabapple didn’t notice me lift it. They sure as shit jumped when it slammed back into place, looking about like a pair of startled jackrabbits peaking out of their holes.

“Good Lord almighty, what was that?” Mrs. Crabapple gasped.

Miss Cheshire frowned at the counter. “I’m not rightly sure.”

I padded silently behind Miss Cheshire, admiring her fine rear beneath the soot-black skirt. My pecker hardened as I stared at the ass, and I shuddered as the tip of my cock brushed the fabric of her skirt, poking her soft cheeks. Miss Cheshire had absently wiped at her butt, brushing my pecker and sending electricity shooting through me. She frowned, peering behind her. She saw right through me and shook her head in confusion.

“Is something wrong, sweety?” Mrs. Crabapple asked, peering around the librarian.

Mrs. Crabapple and I do not get along. She hates me; when I walked into the library this morning, the glare Mrs. Crabapple leveled at me could have peeled paint. So I flipped the old biddy off, practically sticking my invisible finger in her face. The old hag once made a fuss because I was surfing porn on a library computer. Almost got me arrested before someone remembered that porn is just free speech. After the charges were dropped, Mrs. Crabapple and Happy Roberts had led a crusade to get me kicked out of the library. Happy – the wife of the reverend at the Paris Revival for Christ – was misnamed, a shrewish woman that always seemed to frown, at least when I’m around. Maybe this Sunday, I’d pay a visit to her church and put a smile on her face.

“Must be my ‘magination,” Miss Cheshire replied, turning to hand Mrs. Crabapple the books. “Well, you take care now, y’hear.”

The old biddy bent over, whispering conspiratorially, “I saw that good-for-nothing Scotty Adams lurking in the library. You watch out. The man’s a right piece of work.”

“I’ll be right as rain.”

Anger boiled in me. I was tempted to show her just how much of a ‘good-for-nothing’ I could be and torment the dried-up bitch, but my pecker was hard and Miss Cheshire’s rear was far too inviting to give up.

There’ll be a next time, I promised myself.

I turned my attention back to Miss Cheshire. She scanned a pile of books, checking them in, I guessed. Her tawny hair was pinned up in a bun, but an errant lock escaped and lay on the slope of her neck. I reached out and brushed it, breathing on her. Miss Cheshire yelped as she jumped, peering around, her fine bosom heaving beneath her blouse.

She shook her head, and turned back to her scanning, and I reached out and brushed her arm below the sleeve of her blouse. She whirled about and her arm bumped into me and she froze. “What in tarnation?” she muttered as her hand felt my chest. “You’re the ghost them highschool girls been talkin’ ’bout?”

“You’ve heard of me?” I asked, trying to sound as ghostly as possible. “Then you know I’m mighty attracted to purtee girls.”

A flush crept on her face, and I reached out and caressed her cheek.

Slam!

We both jumped. Another of those old biddies tossed a pair of hardback books on the counter. “I don’t have all day while you woolgather, missy!” she barked at Miss Cheshire.

“Sorry.” The librarian whirled about and I pressed my pecker against her plump rear. The librarian wiggled her ass saucily back into me and I enjoyed the sensation of my cock’s head rubbing against the rough fabric of her skirt, as she checked out the woman’s books.

“Young ‘uns these days,” the old woman muttered darkly.

I grabbed the hem of her skirt and started slowly hiking it up. I could feel Miss Cheshire freeze, glancing nervously over her shoulder. “What’re you doin’?” she asked me.

“Placin’ my books in my bag,” the old woman responded indignantly to Miss Cheshire’s question. “If that’s a’ight with you, missy.”

“Oh, yes, right. I’m sorry.” Miss Cheshire was growing flustered as my hands rubbed her surprisingly racy, red panties that clung to her ass. I slid my finger down her panties and felt the warmth of her cooch beneath the fabric. I began stroking her, feeling her moisture soaking into the material.

“Ohh, you have a…a nice day, Mrs. Fairburn,” the librarian stammered, a creep of passion invading her voice.

The old lady snorted as she stalked off, her cane tapping on the library floor, and muttered darkly under her breath.

“You gotta stop,” Miss Cheshire pleaded. “There are people here.”

I pulled the crotch of her panties to the side and ran my finger across her shaved cooch. “I reckon you wouldn’t be so wet if you wanted me to stop, sweetness.” I shoved a finger up inside her warm depths and she gasped. Stirring my finger in her honeypot, I asked her, “Your cooch is dyin’ for my pecker, ain’t it?”

“We can go back into the storeroom,” she pleaded.

“Naw.” I pulled out my finger, grabbed my pecker, and shoved it right on into her wonderfully warm cooch. “Funner this way.”

I started to slowly fuck her, reveling in the feel of her cooch about my pecker. She was wet, and pretty tight. Not as tight as one of them sweet, young teens I’ve fucked, but her cunt was getting the job done. She braced herself against the counter, breathing heavily, as I pumped into her.

Her cunt tightened on me and she whispered fearfully, “Someone’s comin’.”

“Not yet I ain’t. But soon, sweetness. Don’t you worry your purtee, lil head ’bout it.”

“No, a patron.” I kept right on fucking her; no way in hell was I going to stop. Her cooch was first class!

Another old lady walked up, hanging onto a black, wheeled walker. “I can’t believe how rude Mrs. Fairburn was to you, darlin’.”

“Oh, um, it’s ah’ite, Mrs. Hale,” Miss Cheshire answered. She grabbed the old lady’s first book and then dropped it; a soft moan escaped her lips and I felt her juicy cunt spasming on my cock. “Umm, wow,” she muttered.

Mrs. Hale squinted at the librarian through coke-bottle-thick glasses. “Are you okay? You seem flushed?”

“Um, I…ohh! I’m cummin’…” she moaned again. She was cumming hard on my cock, and I just kept fucking away at her. “Oh sweet Jesus I’m cummin’!” I felt her tense as she realized what she just shouted out before this old lady, so she quickly blurted out, “I’m comin’ down with a cold, Mrs. Hale.”

Mrs. Hale reached out and grabbed her hand. “You gotta take care of yourself, okay darlin’.”

“I…oh gosh…” I could feel another orgasm spasming through her body and she leaned over, pressing her ass back into my groin. I gripped her hips and fucked her harder.

“Stomach cramps?” the old lady asked. “I can hear your tummy a rumblin’.”

“They just won’t, ohh, stop cummin’!” the librarian moaned as she kept cumming and cumming.

The air was filled with her tart scent and I could hear the squishing sound of my pecker sliding in and out of her dripping cooch; it was such a lewd, depraved sound. Goddamn, this was turning into a wild fuck. I slammed into her, every thrust bringing my balls closer and closer to exploding. Her hips pushed back against me and she was biting her hand to stifle her screams of passion.

I exploded into her and her cunt was a vice as it squeezed powerfully on my pecker. Her head snapped back and she yelled loudly. Mrs. Hale jumped back, almost falling over in shock and peered with concern at Miss Cheshire as she slumped her head on the counter. I pulled out of her cunt and gave her ass a slap.

Breathing heavily, Miss Cheshire straightened up, wiping at her sweaty forehead with a handkerchief she pulled out of her skirt’s pocket. “Whew, I reckon it’s over.”

“You should go home,” Mrs. Hale pressed.

“Thank you kindly for your concern, but I’m feelin’ so much better.” She handed Mrs. Hale her books, and when the old gal tottered off, she turned around, asking, “Are you still here?”

“Sure thang, sweetness.”

She smiled at me. “You’re right, it is funner when there’s an audience.”

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 5.

The Devil’s Pact Chapter 40: The Patriots

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Chapter 40: The Patriots

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2013, 2014


Story Codes: Male/Teen female, Female/Female, Male/Female, Female/Teen female, Male/Female/Teen female, Mind Control, Magic, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Ass to Mouth, Ass to Pussy, Rimming, Exhibitionism, Incest, Wife, Wedded Lust

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. To contact me, you can leave a comment or email me at mypenname3000@mypenname3000.com, and you can contact my editor by email at dionysus40@prodigy.net.



Click here for Chapter 39.



The Tyrants, Mark and Mary Glassner, represent the greatest threat to Liberty in human history. As the great Statesmen Thomas Jefferson wrote in ‘The Declaration of Independence’, “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they were endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that amongst these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.” To this end, we the Patriots of the United States, shall bring about the Tyrants’ death, and restore a state of Liberty to all those they have enslaved. Our forefathers shed their blood to keep this Country Free; we shall not hesitate to shed ours.

–excerpt from ‘The Patriots Manifesto’, author Unknown

Tuesday, October 1st, 2013 – Mark Glassner – Murano Hotel, Tacoma, WA

A light rap woke me up.

I was in a strange room; panic seized me. Where was I? Did Brandon capture me?

No, Brandon’s dead. I had him executed yesterday. Relief flooded through me. Then where was I? Not my bedroom. Then I remembered—Brandon had burned our house down, destroying every possession and memory we had made. I was in the largest suite of the Hotel Murano in downtown Tacoma. It was our temporary home until the mansion could be constructed.

Mary slept next to me, her arms wrapped tightly about me, as if she was afraid even in sleep to let go of me. Locks of auburn hair spilled across my chest like silken flames. I felt safe in her arms, loved, and I kissed my wife’s freckled cheek.

There was another rap, slightly harder. I tried to sit up, but Mary had me in such a tight grip. She seemed terrified to let go of me, not that I blamed her after Brandon’s attack. This weekend had been a close one; I thought I was going to die, but Mary had been spectacular. I felt pride bloom in my chest as I remembered the courage she had displayed.

I shook Mary and she stirred and smiled as she looked up at me.

“Good morning,” she purred and kissed me on the lips.

The rap was even harder.

“What?” I asked in some irritation. My cock was growing hard as my wife’s body pressed against me.

The door opened; April and Lillian walked in bearing covered trays. Lillian wore a sexy, French-maid outfit with a bodice so low-cut her breasts looked like they were about to fall out if she bent over. About her narrow hips clung an extremely short skirt that showed off her fine legs, clad in fishnet stockings. Black hair, streaked with blues and purples, was gathered into a pair of pigtails that added an innocent look to her whorish outfit.

April wore her glasses, and her youthful face was surrounded by her thick, brown hair. Instead of a maid’s outfit she wore a naughty schoolgirl’s uniform: a white blouse, knotted just below her budding breasts to expose her flat stomach; a very short blue-and-purple tartan skirt that rode low on her hips; and knee-high, white socks added that sexy yet virginal look that made my cock ache. I could feel Mary’s breath quicken at the sight of them. Tight about both girls’ necks were gold chokers that proclaimed them to be our sluts; they looked it this morning.

“Your mother asked us to bring you breakfast,” April explained.

“And the outfits?” Mary asked. “I know you didn’t have those yesterday.”

Lillian laughed, “Well, after you and Master retired for the night we raided a sex shop. Well, all of us except for Alison and Desiree.” She spun about carefully. “Do you like it?”

“You two look delicious!” Mary purred.

“Would you like breakfast first, or us?” April asked, batting her eyelashes at me.

“You,” Mary and I said in unison.

April walked around to my side of the bed while Lillian strutted around to Mary’s. April set her tray – silver, the edge worked with a rope-like pattern, and a matching dome covered the food to keep it warm – down on the nightstand. I threw back the covers and my hot little schoolgirl crawled in and kissed me on the lips. I stroked her full, brown hair, then slid my hand down to rub her flat belly. My child grew inside her; according to Willow I knocked her up the day I took her virginity.

April rolled on top of me, rubbing her naked pussy into my stomach. She was shaved bare and dripping wet, staining my abs with her juices. She broke the kiss and started moving lower, her lips warm as she smooched down my body; her thick hair tickled like silk on my chest. When she reached my stomach, I squirmed as her tongue licked up the puddle her cunt left behind.

Next to me, Mary had pulled Lillian on top of her and freed her left breast, sucking Lillian’s nipple into her hungry lips. Lillian smiled at me; her piercings glinted silver on her eyebrow, nose, and lip. Mary released the hard nipple and grabbed Lillian’s pigtails. “Eat my pussy, slut!” Mary commanded.

“I’d love to, Mistress,” Lillian cooed and wiggled down Mary’s body, pulling the covers away and exposing my wife’s waxed and dripping cunt.

April’s wet mouth reached my cock and she kissed her way up the shaft. She looked so cute as her tongue started tracing the rim of my mushroom-shaped cockhead. “You little minx,” I groaned as her mouth engulfed my cock.

She smiled around my dick, her eyes flashing blue behind her glasses. Then she began bobbing her head. The naughty schoolgirl was hungry for my cum. One hand pumped my shaft, the other massaged my balls. She twisted her mouth around as she moved on my dick, brushing my cock against her cheeks and the roof of her mouth.

“Cock-hungry slut!” I groaned.

She popped off my cock just long enough to giggle, “Of course I am. It tastes so delicious, Master!”

Mary moaned and I glanced over to see her using Lillian’s pigtails as handlebars, guiding the slut’s mouth on her pussy. “Yes, right there!” Mary moaned. “Suck right there, whore!”

April’s mouth was bringing me to a boil. “Gonna cum!” I grunted.

April knew what to do: her mouth released my cock, and she rapidly pumped my shaft with her hand. My muscles tensed as my balls emptied themselves, spraying her face and glasses with streaks of ropey cum. She smiled happily, licking a glob that landed by her lips. More strands fell across her glasses, cheeks, forehead, and hair; sticky whiteness striped her innocent face with depravity.

“Fuck that’s hot!” Mary gasped, staring at April. Then her back arched and she gasped as an orgasm flooded her body. Lillian looked like the cat who got all the cream as she sat up, licking her pussy-stained lips.

“Let’s switch,” Mary panted, still eying April’s cum-splattered glasses.

I glanced at Lillian and her sexy maid’s outfit and nodded. “Come ride my cock, slut. Reverse cowgirl. I want to watch that ass beneath your skirt.”

Lillian stood up, walking around the bed as Mary grabbed April and pulled her off of me, stretching the schoolgirl out on the bed. Mary settled her weight atop April, her fingers quickly unknotting the slut’s blouse. Budding breasts spilled out and Mary sucked a dark nipple into her mouth before licking up to April’s face.

I almost came in Lillian’s cunt as she slid it down my cock. It was so fucking hot watching Mary lick my cum off the girl’s face. She moved up to April’s glasses, her tongue sliding pink across the lens and scooping up a smear of cum. Mary’s ass flexed as she began tribbing the slut, rubbing her clit against the schoolgirl’s.

“That’s so hot, Mare!”

Mary grinned at me, my cum on her lips. “Give my stallion a good ride, Lillian!”

“Yes, Mistress!” Lillian moaned as she fucked me.

I glanced at her ass. When Lillian rose up, the skirt would lift up as well, exposing her sexy cheeks. When she slammed down, the skirt would fall back to cover her ass. Then she would rise up and expose that beautiful butt all over again. The flash of flesh above my cock added a thrilling excitement. Lillian began to add a twist, shaking her ass side-to-side as she rode me, her cunt rubbing tightly around my cock.

“Oh Mistress!” April moaned. “Your pussy feels so good on me! Umm, thank you! Thank you!”

“Faster!” I urged Lillian. “Fuck me hard and fast, slut!”

Lillian picked up the pace, her pigtails flailing about as she threw her head back-and-forth in pleasure. Her cunt started massaging my cock as an orgasm rolled through the slut; her snatch felt wonderful about my shaft as she came. She kept right on riding my cock—she knew her duty as a slut was to give me pleasure.

“Our nipples are kissing!” April panted.

“Your little cunt is driving mine wild,” Mary purred into April’s ears. “Cum with me, slut! Let’s flood each other with our juices!”

“Yes, yes! Just a little more, Mistress! Umm, I love it when our clits kiss!”

“Shit! You little whore! I’m cumming all over your cunt!”

“So am I!” April howled. “I’m cumming! Thank you, thank you, Mistress!”

Lillian bounced hard on my cock, plunging me in and out of her tight tunnel. “Cum in me, Master! Please, my naughty pussy needs your cum! My cunt missed you so much, Master!”

I grabbed her hips and slammed her all the way down onto my cock and erupted into her. “There you go, slut! Devour my cum!” I grunted as my entire body tensed in pleasure.

The feeling of my jizz shooting inside her pussy sent Lillian shuddering in passion. “Yes, yes! I love to feel your cum shooting inside me!”

She slid off me, turned around and snuggled against my chest with a happy sigh. April nuzzled at Mary’s neck as the two held each other. My hand reached out and I found my wife’s. I stroked it gently, then squeezed softly. I smiled as her fingers lovingly clasped about my hand.

“Oh no!” Mary suddenly gasped, quickly untangling herself from April, and dashed for the bathroom. “This is all your fault, Mark Glassner!” Mary moaned from the bathroom.

Mary’s bout of morning sickness wasn’t that bad and, after I helped to clean her up, we ate our delicious breakfast. Mary’s was light—strawberry pancakes and a bowl of berries. My plate had scrambled eggs, waffles topped with bananas, bacon, and sausages. I guessed my mom wanted to make sure I ate enough. I was famished, and finished it off before Mary was even done with her pancakes.

We had a busy day ahead of us. We needed to solidify our control over the country; the heads of all the Federal Agencies were supposed to be on their way here, and that was a start. Mary and I talked for an hour, discussing various ways to exert our control over the government. We settled on Video Conferences; we would arrange live broadcasts for government employees to watch at work, placing them under our power.

When we finished breakfast and talking, Jessica walked in with a manila file folder in hand. She found a sexy genie outfit: green, transparent pantaloons and a transparent boob tube over which she wore a small vest decorated with gold embroidery. The outfit was probably supposed to be worn with underwear but I’m glad she didn’t because I enjoyed seeing her shaved cunt and caramel breasts through the fabric.

“Masters,” Jessica said, sitting on the bed. “The Country and the World are in a lot of turmoil, which is to be expected. The Governors of New Hampshire, Texas, Florida, and California are openly talking about mobilizing their National Guard units to protect themselves from ‘the Tyrants of the Northwest.’ Congress is split; both the Republican and Democratic parties are being ripped apart as roughly half of congress seeks to impeach the President and the other half sings your praises. It almost came to blows. I’ve never seen C-SPAN so entertaining before.”

I groaned. We needed to get the State Governors and Congress under our thumbs, before this spins out of control. “What else?”

“Riots,” Jessica sighed. “Between Miraclists on one side and Christians, Muslims, and Orthodox Jews on the other. Particularly in the Mid-West and the South.”

“What about the International reaction?” Mary asked, nibbling on a strawberry.

“Muslim nations are universally condemning you two as the new Great Satans and there must be a thousand fatwas being declared against you. Europe is split. Many EU heads-of-state were watching the events here in Tacoma, but not all of them – just like here in the States – caught it live. The Prime Minister of the United Kingdoms supports you, but he’s probably going to lose power. There’s a vote of no-confidence going to be brought before Parliament tomorrow. Also expect the UN to try and pass some sort of resolution against you today.”

Her news just seemed to get even worse. Every military in the world was being mobilized to either support or oppose us. Trading was halted on the New York Stock Exchange as the indexes plummeted, and the Asian and European Markets were crashing as a growing lack of confidence in the American economy was spreading.

“Is that it?” I sighed. This was going to be a lot harder than I thought.

Jessica shook her head no. “At the end of July, a Professor Scrivener was killed. Brandon Fitzsimmons was a person of interest in his death. Apparently, the Professor left behind some documents pointing the finger at Brandon. These documents, and the Professor’s translation of the Magicks of the Witch of Endor, ended up on the internet. They first appeared on the University of Wisconsin’s website, and from there they’ve spread to a number of occult or New Age sites. The largest site it’s found on is UnearthedArcana.com where dozens of people have posted that they’ve made Pacts with Lucifer.”

“Are you saying there are dozens of Warlocks that’ve popped up?” I asked.

“Yes, Master. If dozens are posting that they’ve done it, how many are staying silent? Only a minority of people ever comment out of the hundreds that see something on the internet.”

“There could be hundreds of Warlocks out there?”

“Fuck,” Mary whispered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sunday, October 6th, 2013 – Mark Glassner – Washington D.C.

Korina smiled at me – lighting up her doll’s face and seeming to make her sapphire eyes twinkle – as she slipped out of the slutty maid’s outfit, the black dress falling in a pile about her feet. She was naked underneath – like a good little slut should be – and her large breasts jiggled as the plane flew through a patch of turbulence. My cock was hard, eager to be inside her cunt.

I was in the bedroom of Air Force One. I commandeered it from the President. He could fly on one of the many VIP planes the Air Force maintained for other important dignitaries now that the USA was subordinate to our Theocracy. There was a nice, if not spacious, cabin with a bed on the plane for the President’s use, which I currently lay naked on. Desiree and Alison slept next to me—cuddled cutely together.

In the week since we defeated Brandon and declared ourselves Gods and Protectors of the United States and the World, Mary and I had been busy. Giving interviews, making phone calls, trying to get as many people in power as possible under our control. We started with the Federal Agencies. When the President summoned them to Washington State the Director of the CIA, the Department of Energy, and the Chairmen of the Federal Reserve all resigned in protest; their replacements were much more amenable. All the Federal Agencies were now run by people under our power and this week we were going to start the video conferences to get federal employees, particularly the law enforcement and spy agencies, under our umbrella.

I was flying alone to Washington D.C. to make Congress our Thralls, while Mary was heading to a meeting of State Governors in New York City to do the same thing. Then she was going to work on the UN who had been busy trying to pass sanctions on the US and our Theocracy. I hated being apart from my wife, but we could get more done separately then together. I tried not to fear for her safety, reminding myself that she had a battalion of soldiers and bodyguards to protect her.

The Military was one of the first things we got under our thumb. The only US Forces not under our control were in Afghanistan—General Brice Fear had refused the President’s orders. His army was split between commanders loyal to him and commanders under our power. The two forces have been skirmishing in Kabul for two days now.

I pulled Korina to me, kissing her on the lips, feeling her body press up against mine. I loved the feel of her breasts pillowing against my chest. Our kiss grew more passionate and I pulled her down to the bed.

“Mmm, you feel all hard and ready for me,” Korina cooed. “Which slutty hole should I use to satisfy you, Master?”

“Why don’t you choose,” I told her and a big grin filled her face.

She rolled off of me, facedown on the bed, sliding a pillow beneath her stomach, which raised up her plump ass. She wiggled it invitingly at me and I slid on top of her, kissing at her neck. “Good choice, slut.”

“Thank you, Master!” she cried out as I rammed my dick into her pussy, getting a nice coating of juices on my cock.

I pulled out of her inviting cunt, spread her asscheeks and placed the head of my shaft at her puckered hole. I pushed slowly, softly groaning as her tight ass enveloped my cock. Korina panted, looking back at me with a happy smile as I drove all the way into her taut embrace. I drew back, savoring the pleasure of her bowels, before driving back in.

“I love your ass, slut!”

“Thank you, Master! I live to pleasure you and Mistress! It’s what I was born for.”

I heard a giggle and glanced over to see Alison and Desiree watching. Alison was on top of Desiree, their breasts and cheeks mashed together, chokers glinting gold about their necks. A female soldier had returned Desiree’s choker the day after we defeated Brandon, begging her forgiveness for taking it. Desiree forgave her by fucking her up the ass with a strap-on, followed by Alison; the soldier loved every second of it.

“Fuck her hard, Master,” Alison purred.

Desiree smiled, wonderful, beautiful, bringing joy to my heart. Alison had managed to bring the Latina woman out of her shell after Brandon’s brutal rapes. Desiree wrapped her legs around her wife’s hips and pulled Alison’s pussy against hers. Alison kissed her wife, rotating her hips as the women tribbed each other. I kept pounding Korina’s ass and watched the beautiful women make love.

“¡Mi Sirenita! Desiree moaned as she tribbed Alison back.

I gripped Korina’s hips and pumped faster into her ass. “Yes, yes! Fuck me, Master! Use me for your pleasure! Oh fuck! Your cock is the best! I love you! Oh, yes! You’re driving me crazy! Harder! I’m your bitch! Fuck me like one!”

My balls slapped at her cunt – adding a wet, staccato beat to our rutting, a primal rhythm – as I pounded her asshole. “Fucking whore! Your ass is going to make me cum, slut!”

“Cum in me! Please! I love it when I feel your jizz inside me, Master!”

I buried into her warm depths and groaned, shooting her full of my seed. Her bowels clenched about my cock as her orgasm exploded through her. I laid on top of her, enjoying the feel of her asshole massaging my softening cock as I watched Alison’s ass flex as she pumped faster and faster on Desiree.

They were kissing passionately, both bucking and shuddering. Alison broke the kiss, her back arching. “Holy shit! I love you, Desiree! I love it when your pussy creams all over mine!”

“Cum for me!” Desiree panted, grasping Alison’s breast and playing with her pierced nipple. “Cum my love!”

Alison drove her cunt one last time into Desiree, her ass clenching as her orgasm tore through her, then she collapsed on her wife and the pair kissed and murmured affections to each other. God, it made me miss my own wife.

As Korina started licking my cock clean of her ass like a good slut, I sent a thought to Mary. I love you.

Oh, I love you, too, Mark, her thought came back. I could feel her lust; she was fucking someone.

Who’re you fucking?

This cute bellhop, though his dick isn’t as great as yours.

My cock was hard, Korina had it in her mouth. Alison had joined her, helping her lick my cock clean. Alison’s tongue drew up my shaft, her tongue’s piercing hard and smooth in contrast to her soft tongue. She reached the top, brushing Korina’s tongue, and the two sluts kissed each other about my dick’s head.

Close your eyes and pretend it’s my cock inside you, I sent. You’re riding your horny stallion, your back arched and my cock’s driving you crazy.

Oh yes! Oh God, I’m riding your cock, stud! Umm, it feels so great as I slid up and down on it!

Korina’s mouth popped off my cock and I groaned as Alison’s pierced tongue swirled around the head, the metal adding a thrilling sensation. Desiree knelt behind Korina, spreading her butt-cheeks, and bending down to suck my cum out of the slut’s dirty asshole.

Oh Mark! I’m gonna cum! Yes, yes! Oh, I so wish it was you inside me! I could feel her passionate climax through the Siyach spell.

I’m cumming in Alison’s mouth, Mare! I moaned. Feeling her climax sent me over the edge, and I flooded the slut’s lips.

I miss you, Mark, Mary sent, the passion dying away from her thoughts. Umm, Xiu is licking me clean of his cum.

“Sir,” Joslyn’s voice came over the intercom. Joslyn, along with Lydia, were the pilots. “We’ll be landing soon!”

We’re about to land, Mare.

I think I’m going to fall asleep with Xiu nursing at my clit.

Good night, my naughty filly. I love you.

Love ya. I could feel her drifting off to sleep.

Alison and Korina were kissing, swapping my cum as I started getting dressed in my suit. The sluts all, sadly, stopped playing around with each other and found their slutty maid outfits, then we left the small cabin. 51 and four squads of the bodyguard were taking their seats in the main cabin of the plane. Violet, dressed like a naughty schoolgirl, gave me a kiss on the mouth and sat on my lap. I had four sluts with me, the other four were with Mary.

Our bodyguard had tripled in the last week. Female cops from across the country flocked to Tacoma to volunteer to protect us, so Mary and I freed the original bodyguards that we had forced to serve us. 51 chose to stay – provided that I reunited her with her husband – along with a third of the other girls. The rest returned to their families and jobs. I’m glad 51 and 27 remained—we three survived Brandon’s attack together. Since the second-in-command, 47, quit, I promoted 27 to her position. She more than earned it that weekend.

I looked out the window and saw a C-130 flying in formation with us. There were another three of those carrying elements of the Legion—the army that swore me their allegiance and that I had bound with the Ragily prayer, the Monk version of the Zimmah spell. We had yet to find my limit as to how many I could bind with the Ragily prayer, and already 10,000 members of the Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marines had taken the oath. Along with the C-130s, a squadron of F-22 Raptors flew in formation around us. Mary had a similar force guarding her in New York City.

We came in for a landing at Andrews Air Force Base outside of Washington D.C. Awaiting our arrival was an honor guard, made up of advanced elements of the Legion and the bodyguards, and a fleet of SUVs, Humvees, and Strykers that would escort my armored limo. It may be overkill, but I was taking no more chances. Brandon showed me just how dangerous a Warlock could be.

There were dozens, if not hundreds, of Warlocks out there, each with access to the Magicks of the Witch of Endor and capable of threatening us. We had the FBI shut down UnearthArcana.com and any other websites where the translation appeared. Every time one was taken down, two more sprouted up like the severed head of the Hydra, on overseas sites in Russia, China, and other countries. Hackers and other internet freedom groups were starting to cause all sorts of problems from DOS attacks to releasing sensitive information.

Something had to be done about all these Warlocks. Jessica had given me a report of suspected Warlock activity. There was this Ghost of Paris that seemed to have knocked up half of a cheerleading squad in Texas and was daily molesting the women of the town. In South America, three separate men were fighting each other in Brazil, sending the country and its neighbors spiraling into chaos. A fourteen-year-old boy had just been elected President-for-Life in Spain, and in St. Paul, Minnesota a man calling himself Dr. Arthursson opened a clinic where he could reshape any woman to her ideal appearance in moments. He was charging a fortune for his services. One gave me a chuckle. In Glasgow, Scotland a man was flying around claiming he was Superman, complete with the tights and cape.

I bet Sam could figure out a spell to track down all these Warlocks. We needed to deal with them before things got too out of hand. She was supposed to be back from France in a day or two; was almost finished with her study of the Hidden Place in the basement of the Nun’s Motherhouse.

Stairs were wheeled up to Air Force One and half of my bodyguards, led by 51, quickly went down them, dressed in their slutty cop outfits and armed with a mix of MP5s and M16s. Then Alison and Desiree descended, followed by me, with Violet, Korina, and the other half of the bodyguards bringing up the rear. The media was on hand, cameras flashing, and I waved to them as I walked to the armored limo.

Leah was waiting for me, smiling as she held the door open. She looked hot in her short, black skirt, fishnet stockings, and white bustier; a red-and-blue tie fell invitingly between her cleavage. A small, black jacket and a chauffeur’s cap completed the outfit.

“My Lord,” Leah murmured.

I stroked her cheek and gave her a kiss on the lips; she blushed prettily. Next time I was home, I needed to bring Leah and her wife to my bed. Mary would enjoy that, she liked the two women. Their husband Jacob wouldn’t mind; I’d send him a few of the sluts to keep him busy.

My cock was hard just from looking at her; why wait for home? I kissed her a second time, pressing her against the body of the limo while my hand shoved into the cup of her bustier, feeling her large tit squeeze between my fingers. Her kiss grew passionate, her right leg hiking up, hooking around my left, and feistily rubbing up and down the back of mine.

I could hear the flash of cameras as the reporters immortalized the moment. Her hands found the zipper of my pants, pulling my cock out. I lifted her up, letting my cock prod her wet cunt. She moaned into my lips as I sank into her; there were no panties to get in the way. Her wet, warm sheath engulfed me, and I started pounding her cunt like a madman.

“Fuck me, my Lord!” she moaned, tossing her brown curls and humping her hips back into me. “Oh yes! Oh yes! I love it when you fuck me!”

Her moans were being broadcast live to the world. Like a firecracker, she went off fast and loud, her cunt squeezing my cock. It was so exciting – feeling her cunt massage my cock, knowing thousands were watching me fucking this slut in their homes – and I knew I wasn’t going to last long. With a few hard thrusts, I shot my cum into her pussy, moaning loudly, and enjoying that tense feeling passing through my body as I released my passion into a woman’s snatch.

“Thank you, my Lord!” she breathed as I pulled away, straightening her skirt.

“You’re welcome,” I told her, giving her ass a friendly squeeze, and then I piled into the back of the limo.

A few minutes later, we were driving away from the airfield and into the capitol, Alison cuddled on one side of me and Desiree on the other. The local police had shut down the highway and surface streets, and my motorcade made good time to the Willard Intercontinental, the hotel I was staying at. Out front, a large crowd of cheering people had gathered. I could see mostly black auras, belonging to Thralls, with a few silver auras – regular mortals – interspersed here and there.

When I got out of the limo, I let the crowds’ worshipful cheers wash over me. It was the most intoxicating thing in the world. Soldiers formed a small aisle through the crowd to the hotel’s entrance, and I shook hands and groped bared breasts as I slowly made my way to the lobby, my eyes roving for the perfect woman to take upstairs with me.

It was my custom now on these out-of-town trips to pick a lucky gal. Whether it was Mary and I together picking a woman, or just me on my own. I never looked for any particular woman, just whoever caught my eye. And tonight it was a teenage girl with a heart-shaped face. She looked so innocent with her plaited black hair and jean jacket. Next to her stood a more mature version of the girl, a woman in her late thirties. The daughter was taller, and barely had any tits, while the mom was short and very busty.

I motioned to the women and they both shrieked ecstatically. There was a tall man who the mother kissed and the daughter hugged, and he looked proud as his wife and daughter were brought to me. I wrapped my arms around each of them and kissed first the mom and then the daughter on the lips, before I took them into the hotel.

“I can’t believe you chose us, my Lord,” the teenage girl gushed. “Marcy and Amy will be so jealous!”

Her mother was crimson faced, breathing heavily. “Relax,” I told her and kissed her again.

“I’m sorry, this is just so exciting!” the mom gushed. “I’m mean, it’s you! When we joined the Living Church last August I never thought in a million years that you would ever bless me.”

“So you two are true believes?” I asked. “Let’s see if you follow the tenets.”

The mom lifted up her dress first, exposing a shaved pussy with fat, dark lips hanging an inch down. The daughter followed, raising the hem of her jean skirt and I saw a dark, black bush and just the hint of a tight slit.

“What’re your names?” I asked, reaching out to rub both of their pussies. They were both wet and I probed my finger up their snatches.

“I’m Tibby and this is my daughter Bryanna!” the mom gasped as I slowly fingerfucked her.

I pulled my fingers out of their cunts. Tibby tasted tart while Bryanna had a spicy, fresh flavor. The elevator dinged and I ushered the ladies inside the gilded box. The sluts and some of the bodyguards crowded in and we were heading up to the penthouse suite, where more bodyguards waited. They had arrived yesterday, an advance team to make sure everything was secure and ready for my arrival.

I led the mother and daughter to my bedroom, motioning at Violet to follow. It was richly furnished and very modern looking; weird lines and strange shapes abounded. Mary would probably have liked it—she was an artist—I didn’t get this stuff at all. I sat down on a chair; its strange back, curving over my head, was a little uncomfortable. Maybe it wasn’t intended to be sat on, but then why make it to begin with? Violet knew what to do, and knelt down and unzipped me and pulled my hard cock out.

Bryanna’s breath caught as she saw it. “It’s different than daddy’s.”

“Your dad is uncircumcised,” Tibby explained as Violet’s tongue danced across the head of my cock.

“Ohh,” Bryanna said as her mom pulled off her thick sweater to reveal a pair of lush breasts barely contained by a lacy bra.

“Have either of you been with a woman before?” I asked them.

“No,” Tibby answered, and Bryanna shook her head and blushed.

“Why not?”

“Well, we’re straight,” answered Tibby.

“You’ve just realized that you’re bisexual,” I ordered. “And that you are deeply attracted to each other. Why don’t you two get naked and explore these new feelings.”

“Wow, mom,” Bryanna cooed. “That is a nice pair of hooters ya got.”

Tibby reached behind her and unclasped her bra and freed her large breasts. They sagged a bit, but still looked great with large areolas and fat nipples. “Why don’t you give them a feel?” she suggested to her daughter.

As Violet’s mouth sucked my cock into her lips, Bryanna reached out and tentatively gave her mother’s tit a squeeze. The teen’s mouth opened in amazement as she began to knead the heavy orb. “I used to nurse from these, didn’t I?”

“You did. I loved it. I felt so close to you when you nursed.”

Bryanna ducked her head down and sucked her mother’s nipple into her lips. I grabbed Violet’s pigtails and began forcing her head up and down on my cock. I couldn’t take my eyes off the women; I loved watching mothers and daughters fuck.

Tibby mewled in pleasure, cradling her child’s head to her breast. “Oh duckling, that feels wonderful! Suck at momma’s tit! I love you so much!”

Bryanna released the nipple. “I love you too, momma!” Then she stood up and kissed her mother on the lips. Tibby melted against her daughter, cupping her child’s face, and kissed her back with passion. Bryanna was breathless when she broke the kiss.

“Umm, I want to see my little girl’s hooters.”

Bryanna flushed as her mom pushed her jean jacket off her shoulders. “Momma, you know I don’t have any tits.”

“You’re still young, duckling.”

“I’m fifteen, momma,” she protested as her mom pulled her red peasant’s blouse over her head. Her breasts were small, apple-sized, topped with puffy, pink nipples, and clearly didn’t need a bra to support them.

“They are beautiful,” Tibby insisted, giving her daughter’s breast a squeeze, then rolled her nipple between her thumb. Tibby then bent down and sucked her daughter’s nipple into her mouth.

“Oh, momma! That feels amazing! I’m nursing you now!”

The two women sank onto the bed; Tibby’s lips glued to her daughter’s breast. She pushed her daughter down onto her back, still sucking noisily at her tit, and ran her hands down Bryanna’s side, reaching for her jean skirt. Tibby pulled it up, exposing her daughter’s bushy twat. The teen gasped as her mother ran her fingers through her downy pubes and across her wet slit.

“Momma’s gonna make her duckling feel wonderful,” Tibby purred.

Tibby started kissing down her daughter’s body and Bryanna’s blue eyes sparkled with lust. “Oh momma!” she gasped as her mother spread her pussy lips open and dived in.

I began thrusting up into Violet’s mouth as I watched this incestuous display. My balls tightened; my eyes rooted at the sight of Tibby working her tongue deep into her daughter’s juicy snatch. I slammed into Violet’s mouth and shot three large blasts of cum into her. Violet pulled off my cock, swallowing and smiling happily.

“Thank you, Master,” she purred, stroking my cock.

“You did great, slut!”

I stood up, walked to the bed, and grasped the hem of Tibby’s black skirt, lifting it up. I spread her pussy lips open, gazing into her wet, pink depths as she made her daughter pant. Her cunt was just at the right level to let me stand at the foot of the bed and fuck her. I rubbed my cock on her vulva and then thrust it into her sheath.

“Oh yes!” Tibby gasped. “Fuck me, my Lord!”

“Are you on birth control?” I asked as I pumped my cock in her wet pussy.

“No, neither of us are. My husband had a vasectomy,” she answered. “You’re going to pull out, right?”

I laughed, “Nope. I’m going to cum in your, and your daughter’s, cunt. If you’re lucky, you both might carry my child.”

“That’d be wonderful, momma!” Bryanna gasped, pinching her puffy nipples.

“Yeah, I guess it would, duckling!”

I pounded her pussy hard. She wasn’t too tight, but she was warm and wet and knew how to move her hips. Bryanna had her hands tangled in her mother’s black curls, bucking her hips and rubbing her cunt all over her mother’s lips.

“Oh momma! This feels amazing! I love your mouth on my pussy! Um, eat me! Make me cream, momma!”

“Cum for me, duckling!” Tibby moaned. “Let’s cum together!”

“Yes!” Bryanna yelled. “Oh geez! Here it cums! Oh yes!”

Her back arched and her mother held on for dear life, never ceasing to drink her daughter’s fresh juices. I felt Tibby’s cunt spasming on my cock as she reached her climax, a velvety massage about my dick as her pussy writhed. I fucked her harder, feeling my own release approaching, then I spilled my fertile seed into her womb.

“Oh momma, I want to eat you now!”

“Absolutely, duckling! I’m all creamy now. You’ll just love it!” Tibby pulled away from me, white cum running out of her snatch. She unzipped her skirt and threw it to the floor before falling back on the bed and spreading her legs, and her pussy, wide open.

“Wow, momma!” Bryanna cooed. “Your pussy lips are huge!” She reached out, tugging on one. “Mine are small. You can barely see them. You’re bigger than me in every way.”

“Don’t pout, duckling. I’m all grown up!” Tibby slid her fingers threw her messy cunt. “Why don’t you give momma a good lickin’.”

Bryanna dove into her mother’s cunt, giving me a great view of the damp fur surrounding her tight slit. My cock was hard again and I buried into her teenage snatch. “Holy jeez!” Bryanna gasped. “He’s a little bigger than daddy!”

“Umm, I know,” Tibby cooed. “Doesn’t that cock just feel wonderful pumping in and out of you!”

“It does, momma!”

Bryanna’s cunt was a vice compared to her mom’s, and I enjoyed every second that I fucked her. Next to Mary’s pussy, teenage cunt was the best thing to fuck. I gripped her ass, spreading her firm cheeks and saw her rosebud asshole.

Well, maybe there was something better than teenage cunt.

“Owww!” Bryanna gasped as I shoved my cock into her bowels. My dick was well lubed, but her ass was virgin territory. “Momma, he’s fucking my butt!”

“Relax, duckling,” Tibby cooed. “Relax, your ass will take it!”

“Okay, momma,” Bryanna panted.

Her ass was tight ecstasy and I plunged in and out slowly, savoring the velvety feel of her. Tibby stroked her daughter’s face and guided the teen’s lips back to her juicy cunt. Bryanna’s head moved as she began eating her mother’s pussy and I could feel some of the tension leave her body; her ass wasn’t quite as tight anymore. I started thrusting faster, enjoying the feel of my balls slapping against her pussy.

“Um, duckling that feels wonderful! Eat momma’s dirty pussy! Lick momma clean! Oh yes!” Tibby’s large breasts heaved as her face squeezed in pleasure. She gasped once, squeezing the sheets and then smiled happily. “Thank you duckling!”

Tibby slid away from her daughter, then crawled down the bed, kneeling beside us. She bent down, giving Bryanna’s asscheek a big smooch, and watched my cock plunging in and out of her hole. Her hand reached under and I felt her fingers brush my pistoning cock, searching for her daughter’s cunt.

“Oh momma!” Bryanna gasped, squeezing her ass on my cock. “Ohh, play with my clitty!”

Bryanna’s hips started to move as her mother toyed with her clit. Tibby kept kissing and sucking at her daughter’s ass, leaving brown hickeys on white skin. The teen was cooing happily; her plaited braid coiled across her supple back. I reached out and grabbed it, yanking her head back. Her sapphire eyes shone with lust as she looked over her shoulder at me.

“Pound my ass, my Lord!” she moaned. “Oh, it feels so good! Umm, I’m so glad you took my anal cherry! I’m gonna cum, my Lord!” A low, throaty moan escaped her lips and her ass squeezed deliciously on my cock. “Oh yes! Do you feel my passion, my Lord? Do you feel my naughty, teenage ass squeezing on your hard cock?”

“Fuck, I do!” I moaned. My balls felt like they were about to explode, but I wanted to cum in her fertile cunt so I pulled out of her bowels and thrust my cock – dirty with her juicy ass – into her pussy. “Here it fucking cums!” I shouted, thrusting three times.

“Oh momma! He’s shooting in me! We’re gonna make a baby, momma!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jerrold Baxter – Washington D.C.

I knocked on the door of the apartment.

“Who is it?” a woman asked, her voice reedy, quavering.

“FBI,” I answered, holding up my badge. “I’m Agent Baxter, please open your door, ma’am.”

The old woman cracked the door open, the chain still in place, and peered at my badge. “What can I do for you?” she asked, a little nervous as she unhooked the chain.

Once inside, I whispered a word and I caught her as she fell asleep. I carried the old woman to her bedroom and set her on her bed. The Yashen spell would put her to sleep until around noon tomorrow. When she woke up, she wouldn’t remember a thing.

Her apartment gave the perfect vantage on the Willard Intercontinental’s entrance. I went back to the hallway and retrieved my gun case and started assembling my H&K PSG1 sniper rifle. The PSG1 was the perfect sniper’s weapon, very accurate. The German’s designed it for use in hostage situations after the Munich Games; it was very accurate, very deadly. I had a lot of experience with it; for seven years I had been a sniper with the FBI’s Hostage Rescue Team, our version of the SWAT.

Once my rifle was assembled, I walked carefully to the window, concentrated, and whispered, “Ashan.” The spell created an illusion in front of the window; from the outside, it would still look like the window was closed and the shades were drawn. The spell was one of the many powers I gained when I sold my soul to the Devil along with the other Patriots last week.

It was the only way to save America. To save the world. I loved my Country too much to watch it become enslaved by Mark Glassner and his whore.

I opened the drapes and the window, set up my tripod and rifle. In the morning the Tyrant, Mark Glassner, would step out of the hotel and I would put a bullet in his brain.

I grabbed my pack, pulled out the CB radio. Mark controlled the NSA, and cell phones were too easily traced by them. I keyed up the CB, “19Q321 traffic is just fine in D.C.” It was the code that I was in position. There would be no answer. Headquarters was monitoring the band, but they would never transmit; CB’s are too easy to direction find.

I sat and watched, scanning the hotel. On the roof I could see the counter-snipers, soldiers with their own sniper rifles, scanning the neighboring buildings for someone like me. I laughed; with the illusion in place they could never see me.

“KK254 the Brooklyn Bridge is traffic free,” a woman’s voice crackled over the CB.

I smiled; Sheila Robbins was in place to assassinate Mary. If all went well tomorrow the world would be free of the Tyrants.

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 41.

The Devil’s Pact Side-Story: The Alukah Part 2-The Motherhouse

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Side-Story: The Alukah

Part 2: The Motherhouse

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2014


Story Codes: Male/Female, Female/Female, Magic, Oral, Violence, Vampire

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. To contact me, you can leave a comment or email me at my_pen_name3000@hotmail.com, and you can contact my editor by email at dionysus40@prodigy.net.



Click here for Part 1.


Note: This takes place during Chapter 40, following Sam on her mission to Rennes-le-Château to study the Matmown in the Nun’s Motherhouse. Thanks to klimstit for inspiring me to write a vampire story.



Wednesday October 2nd, 2013 – Sam Soun

As our early morning flight on British Air took off from Heathrow Airport in London to Toulouse in Southern France, the entire plane was abuzz about the woman found badly assaulted in the restroom in the terminal. She was found around midnight local time, and since then I kept Candy and I where there were people around. Safety in the herd. I took no chances and made sure my bronze dagger – enchanted to harm spiritual beings – was easily accessible.

“They say she had bite marks on her thighs and breasts,” a passenger in the seat in front of us whispered to the woman sitting next to her. “Like something had drank her blood.”

“I heard the girl was naked and delirious when they found her,” the second passenger whispered back. “They say she was…” the passenger gave a quick look around to see if anyone was eavesdropping, “…masturbating. The poor thing was barely conscious from blood loss and still jilling herself.”

“It sounds like one of Lilith’s children, Sam,” Candy whispered to me. “One of the Akula.”

“Alukah,” I absently corrected, thumbing my earlobe. I had my carry-on bag sitting on my lap, dagger accessible. “We may be in some danger.”

The plane started taxiing to the runway and Candy’s eyes widened. “You think it’s after us.”

“Yes,” I answered, trying to sound calmer than I felt. “It must know about our mission.”

Anger flashed in Candy’s eyes. “Then why did they only send the two of us. Why not send a few of those sluts they call bodyguards to protect us. The way they dress, I’m sure the Alukah would be pestering the guard, and leave us alone.”

Why did Mark and Mary send us alone? To not attract attention, I guess. They certainly couldn’t come to France without causing a firestorm. I had grabbed a London Times while we were waiting for our connecting flight to France, and read that the UK was embroiled in a vote of no confidence against their Prime Minister for supporting Mark and lauding the President of France for condemning him.

“We will be safe,” I lied. “I know more about magic than anyone.”

“Not Lilith,” Candy pointed out. “It was foolish of them to send us without any guards. Fuck they’re idiots!”

I blinked, having never heard Candy say anything bad about Mark and Mary. It was the fear talking. I could see it in her eyes. I felt the same fear gripping my heart with a cold, slimy hand. Candy was right—they should have sent us some protection.

I worried the entire flight to Toulouse. Mary said to call their Chief of Police if we needed any help; she had put him under her control a few days ago when she flew out to France to steal the Mother Superior’s Gift. I would definitely feel better if there were some armed men around. The cops combined with an ointment that would protect against the Alukah’s mesmerizing gaze – if I figured it out right, and there wouldn’t be a way to test it until we were face-to-face with the monster – would go a long way in protecting us.

The ingredients shouldn’t be too hard to find for the ointment: St. John’s wort, a daisy, and some red berries combined with some sort of cream as the base. Then I just had to perform a simple charm and we should be protected from the most dangerous weapon the Alukah possessed. When we landed at Toulouse-Blagnac Airport, I found all the ingredients in the duty free shop – thank God for the all-natural health craze and florists – and I mixed them together, using a cold cream for the base.

I spritzed some of my enchanted perfume on me as we made our way to customs. It was similar to these incense sticks I made for Willow, and would put people into a suggestive frame of mind. One whiff and the Customs Official waved us through even though neither of us had passports. After customs we called the Captain of the Toulouse Police and he sent us two cops for an escort. The sun was just rising when they pulled up in one of those ridiculously tiny, European cop cars.

“I am Michel, this is Francois,” the serious young man said climbing out of the cop car. His eyes were instantly glued to Candy’s cleavage. I couldn’t blame him; she was showing a lot of it and it was very stunning.

Francois was a dark, brooding man, handsome, with a huge grin on his face. He sauntered up to Candy, asking, “Want touch my rooster?” Michel shook his head and muttered something in French. Francois ignored him, continuing, “American ladies love big rooster!”

“What?” Candy giggled.

“My rooster! Is very big!” He held his hands over a foot apart. “My rooster feel great your cat!”

“Come again?” I asked, baffled by what Francois was saying.

“My rooster!” Francois exclaimed enthusiastically, pointing to his crotch. “Ladies love big rooster! Like Black man.”

“You mean your cock? Your penis?” I asked, finally catching his drift.

“Yeah, yeah. My big rooster! It rises every morning. Very straight and crows very much!”

“And cat is our pussies?” Candy asked.

He nodded and I saw Candy give him a considering look then a promising smile. I blinked; Candy wasn’t usually into guys. I gave Francois a second glance and decided that he was handsome enough. Maybe later Candy and I could have some fun. Just because I could make my own cock didn’t mean I stopped craving a nice, hard dick.

“You were told to do whatever we say, right?” I asked them.

“Oui, oui,” Michel nodded.

“Good, rub this ointment under your eyes,” I ordered, holding out the cold cream container.

“Why?” Francois asked, staring askance at the ointment.

“Makes your rooster big,” Candy giggled. “If it’s as big as you say, maybe my hungry cat will eat it.”

Francois’s grin was priceless. He was so eager to rub it on his eyes that I suspected he was a virgin, and his over-the-top flirting was only a mask to hide it. Michel frowned and Candy shook her cleavage at him and he sighed, sniffed the minty concoction, and rubbed it under his eyes muttering something in French. It didn’t sound complimentary. The ointment had a…distinct odor to it. That strong, medicinal smell from the cold cream combined with a sulfurous fume from the charm.

Francois flirted badly with us the entire drive. His understanding of English wasn’t that great and trying to figure out what he meant was a real chore sometimes. The countryside of France was quite beautiful, the roads were lined with ancient hedgerows – walls of green that were older than any city in America – that streaked by as green blurs as Francois drove us at breakneck speed down the country highway. Soon a hill rose up ahead, a pile of rocks looming over the French countryside; Rennes-le-Château perched atop it, like a crown on a rocky giant’s head.

The road up the hill to the town was curvy, winding back and forth like a drunken serpent. Rennes-le-Château was ancient, made of stone buildings that seemed to groan with the centuries. The streets were far too narrow for more than one car to drive down at a time, even one as small as the cop’s vehicle. Francois didn’t care, he barreled down them and forced any oncoming motorist to back out of his way. I was feeling definitely carsick after the bouncy ride across the cobblestone streets, and thrilled when we reached the Church of Mary Magdalene and the ride was over. The Motherhouse loomed behind it, and we got out, walking around the ancient church.

The Motherhouse was as old as the rest of the town. Made of stones fitted together and weathered by centuries of rain, while green creepers crawled up the sides, trying to pry the stones apart. The door was aged wood and bound in iron. It was closed, but not locked.

I cast a warding spell while the cops watched with bemused expressions. Candy was a dear and started flirting with them to keep them out of my way. The Natsar spell – which should keep the Alukah out, as well as any other children of Lilith, minor demons, homunculi, and spirits that might be after us – had to be precisely cast at all four corners of the building.

“Francois, you stay out and watch the door,” I told him. “Don’t invite anyone in.”

“Of course, mademoiselle,” he answered with a bow. “No fear. I protect you with big rooster!”

Candy laughed and patted his groin. “I bet you will.”

Our defenses set, I eagerly headed for the basement followed by Michel and Candy. The cop had his flashlight out, shining ahead, as I raced down the tight, narrow staircase. The basement – reeking of centuries of filth – was full of old cardboard boxes that were stained black with mildew. At the far end was a door made of iron and covered with what appeared to be Paleo-Hebrew characters.

Excitedly I read. They were commands forbidding elohim from entering. Elohim could mean many things, all connected to the spiritual realm. Literally translated it meant ‘gods’ and was often applied to the God of the Old Testament, but could also refer to angels, spirits of the dead, and the pagan gods worshiped by the Israelite enemies.

I touched the metal, feeling the hammer strokes that had beated the metal flat, then traced through the angular script. They must have stamped the characters. The metal was clearly iron and I bet that it was cold iron; probably even meteoric iron. The most powerful metal in dealing with the supernatural has always been iron not worked by heat, and the most readily available source of iron in the ancient world fell from the skies—meteors.

Candy and the French cop watched in curiosity. “Candy, grab the survey equipment from the car.” After the two cops picked us up, we purchased some supplies before we left Toulouse. “Then take scrapings of the walls. I will need a metallurgical analysis.”

“Sure, Sam,” Candy smiled.

I grabbed the digital camera and began to meticulously document the room. Inside there were more spells written on the walls and I felt a giddy feeling bubble up inside me. If I wasn’t their Vizier, I could make a name for myself in the archeological world for this discovery. A shame I could never share it with my peers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Luka – Rennes-le-Château, France

I watched the French cop as he stood bored in front of the Motherhouse from my perch in the ancient oak tree. My target was inside there—Samnag Soun. I could smell her scent thick in the air. I had been watching all day, waiting, pondering.

My fangs itched to sink into Sam’s olive throat and drink my fill of her life, but first I had to deal with the Natsar ward and then her guards. I did not have my sister Cora’s brute strength. I could smell the ointment from here that protected all of them from my gaze, and I could be overpowered by the two cops if I wasn’t careful. As the day wore on the cop guarding the front door grew more and more bored. The sun would be setting soon, and his attention would only worsen with time.

Finally, the sun slipped beneath the horizon and the sky darkened to a deep purple-black. Thunder rumbled in the distance; a storm approached. I slipped out of the tree and boldly walked down the path to him. I shaped my hair into a form-fitting bodysuit. It hugged every lush curve of my body and I felt the French cop’s gaze fall on me and the lust burning in his eyes.

I didn’t need my gaze to deal with a horny man.

He said something in French. It was musical, poetry given sound, and utterly meaningless to me. I just smiled as sultry as possible and exaggerated the roll of my hips even more. He kept speaking in French as I stepped up in front of him just on the other side of the Natsar’s boundary and boldly looked him up and down.

“I love cops,” I purred. Thunder rumbled behind me, the wind picking up as dark storm clouds swept over the hill.

Candy Garnett

I was bored.

Sam was having fun taking her measurements and notes and all that academic shit. She was talking about the days and days it would take to her to record it all and analysis it. She was positively giddy.

I could only fidget and watch her work, trying to pay attention so I could help her out, but she seemed to be lost in her world of discovery. On top of the boredom, there was the dull fear aching my heart. An Alukah may be hunting us; sure we were safe inside the Natsar, but I couldn’t shake the unease writhing like an eel in my stomach. Anger burned in me that Mark and Mary would send us out here by ourselves. Sam was the most important person in maintaining their power and they didn’t give her half the respect she deserved. Sam should be running things, in my opinion, not kowtowing to those two idiots that were forever blundering into one disaster after another.

Sam should make her own pact with Lucifer.

I was scared to bring it up to her – it was such a seditious idea – but she could be so much more if she just had a little bit more ambition to go with her intelligence. With my help Sam would one day show the world just how smart and powerful she really is.

In the meantime, I was bored.

Michel was as bored as I was, leaning against a moldy cardboard box. He was cute, with dark eyes and hair. And incredibly shy. I’ve always preferred the ladies, but there have been times when a guy was cute enough to attract my interest. I loved the shy ones. They always let me be the aggressive one—the one in charge.

I glanced at Sam; she was lost in her work and I felt an itch growing between my thighs. Maybe Michel could help me out.

“It must be so hard to be a cop,” I cooed, sidling up to Michel. I thrust out my chest, making sure he had a nice view down my cleavage. I lightly touched his wrist and he flushed, looking uncomfortable. “All those long hours. I bet your girlfriend just hates it.”

He shifted. “No girl,” he muttered.

“Really? With those dark eyes? I thought you would have to hold the ladies at bay with a stick! I love a guy with dark, brooding eyes.” I leaned in, fluttering my eyes at him, sliding my hand up his arm and giving his bicep a squeeze. “And so strong! What woman wouldn’t love to have you?”

“I…um…” he muttered something in French. “I should be guard.”

“Francois is watching the entrance,” I told him, stroking his arm. “Besides, you can watch and talk at the same time.” This time I let my breast press against his arm.

“This isn’t…um…” he paused, searching for the right word, “…appropriate. I am working.”

“And what are we doing that is so inappropriate?” I grinned, pressing my body against his side, my hand rubbing his chest. I leaned in and whispered in his ear, “We’re just talking, Michel.”

He went rigid, and tried to jerk away. I grabbed his arm, pulling him back.

“Don’t be so stiff. I’m not going to bite.” I paused, smiling coquettishly. “Much.”

Sweat beaded on his forehead and he glanced at Sam. “What about your boss? You are helping, no?”

“She won’t mind.” His chin was rough with stubble as I kissed his cheek. I moved closer and closer to his lips. He was an okay kisser, his lips dry. He froze at first, then I felt him relax, kissing me back, his hands gently resting on my hips. I broke the kiss. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” he asked, panting; a foolish grin on his face.

“I thought I heard something upstairs. In one of the bedrooms. We should check it out.”

He swallowed, “Yeah.”

He followed along after me like a little puppy. I felt his cute, dark eyes on my ass as I swayed it in front of him. I glanced back at him, smiled invitingly, and twirled a strand of cotton-candy blue hair around my finger, then I dashed up the narrow stairs, giggling.

He chased me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Luka

“American lady?” the French cop asked as I stood before him, his eyes filled with lust as he took in my lush body covered by a form-fitting bodysuit I made with my hair.

I nodded. “Your accent is so sexy.”

“You want see my rooster. Is very big!” He held out his hands a good two feet apart. “Most big rooster you see!”

I was utterly confused about what he was talking about until he rubbed at his crotch. I could see the hard bulge forming there. “Umm, I like big cocks,” I purred. “Why don’t we slip inside and you can show it to me. I’ll introduce it to my hungry pussy.”

He suddenly got flustered, his flirtatious bravado evaporating. He’s never had a woman respond like that, I realized. I could sense the inexperience that his outrageous confidence was trying to mask.

“Come on, big boy,” I continued to purr, running my hands down my body. “Invite me in and you can show me just how big it is.”

He threw a nervous look over his shoulder, swallowing. “I am on…eh…job.”

“So?” I asked, my hands rubbing my crotch and sending a delicious thrill through my damp pussy. “No-one will know if we fool around for a little while. You won’t be disappointed when your rooster meets my pussy.”

He swallowed, his resolve wavering.

“I love to pet and stroke roosters,” I purred. “With my hands…and with other parts of my body.”

Lust won out over duty. “Yes! Come in.”

The barrier was gone; I had my invitation, and I pounced. My lips found his, kissing him, as I pushed him back inside the door. I pressed him up against the wall, our lips hungrily tasting each other, while I rubbed his cock, feeling his cock swell beneath his pants. I kissed down to his throat, feeling his heart’s blood pumping through his veins, and bit hard.

He struggled as my fangs pierced his carotid artery and his life pumped hot into my lips. It was a vital flood, brimming with energy. I couldn’t swallow fast enough and the blood poured down my chin and neck, rolling down my body to puddle stickily on the floor. It was wonderful, rich and salty, flowing with primal energy. Never had I felt so alive, so full of power. His blood charged me, a battery filled to capacity—I never should have denied myself with the girl in the bathroom.

I let his dead weight fall to the floor and bent down and drew his handgun.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Candy Garnett

Michel chased me giggling into a bedroom.

It was barely more than a closet. A cell, really, than a proper bedroom. A small bed with a hard-looking mattress and a battered dresser. The window was narrow and the cold, night air flowed in through a gap between the frame and the wall where the ancient mortar had eroded away. These poor nuns had to live like this? No wonder they had caused so many problems; I’d be cranky too.

I kissed Michel, thrusting my tongue into his lips, then pushed him down onto the bed. “Strip,” I ordered him.

He began to fumble with his buttons and froze as I pulled my top off, freeing my round breasts. I smiled and shook my tits at him. He muttered in French and started unbuttoning faster. His shirt and white undershirt came off exposing a muscular chest covered with thick, coarse black hair. I grimaced; I hated a hairy guy, but I was too horny to stop now. His pants and his striped boxers came off; he had an average-sized cock, uncircumcised, the red tip peaking out of its hood like a curious snake peaking out of its burrow.

I lifted up my skirt, exposing my shaved pussy to his gaze. “Eat me, stud!”

He knelt before me, his hands reaching around to grab my ass, and pulled me to his lips. His whiskers were rough on my thighs as he buried his mouth in my pussy. His tongue was stiff as it slid through my labia, but he knew just where to lick and I cooed in pleasure.

“You taste sweet,” Michel moaned.

“That’s why they call me Candy,” I giggled. I grabbed his hair and shoved his mouth back into my cunt. “Don’t stop licking until I explode on your face!”

I shuddered in pleasure as his lips sucked on my clit, sending lightning pleasure flashing through my body. Still holding his hair, I started grinding my pussy on his face. Outside, lightning flashed and thunder rumbled, while inside my cunt rippled with passion.

The storm’s having an orgasm, I thought, just like me.

“Lick me!” I groaned as the small orgasm peeled through me. I wanted more, and his tongue was building me up to a crescendo of pleasure. “Umm, I’m gonna flood your face. You’re going to drown in my sweet syrup!”

That sweet feeling was jolting through my body as my large orgasm grew closer and closer. I was so near that wonderful peak. His tongue was probing my cunt, nose rubbing against my clit when my orgasm crashed into me like a hurricane slamming into the shore, whipping pleasure throughout my body. I moaned, my back arching, as that glorious climax surged like a storm-driven wave through me. I rode high on the rapture, staring out the tiny window, watching the lightning flashing orgasmically.

A woman’s face was in the window, fiery-red hair lit up by the lightning, something dark staining her lips.

“Holy shit!” I gasped, leaping away, my heart thundering in fear. “There!” I tried to say more, but my tongue was tied with fear and all I could do was point at the window.

“What?” Michel asked, wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

“Face!” I gasped out, still rapidly pointing.

Michel stood up and opened the window, sticking his head out. There was another flash of lightning and then the rain, driven by a gusting wind, came down in a hammering sheet against the side of the building. Michel peered around. “We are on the second floor. There is no trees or ledge for person to stand.”

“There’s nothing out there?” I asked, finally gathering my thoughts as my fear receded. Had it just been my imagination? A mere manifestation of the dull fear of the Akula that had plagued me all day?

“No,” he answered, walking back to me with his hard cock pointing at me. “I think it is your turn to…” His voice trailed off and he shouted, “Merde!” then dived for his clothes.

I spun around and there was the woman I saw in the window. She was naked, the dark-red stains that covered her face and breasts were unmistakable—blood. The room filled with a coppery, nauseating scent as the woman aimed her gun at Michel. I jumped; the gun barked. Michel yelled in pain, blood blossoming on his chest as he struggled to pull his gun out of the tangle of his clothes. Like a marionette whose strings had been cut, he fell to the floor.

Before I could even react, the woman pointed the gun at me and fired. I jumped as everything went blue around me; the bronze protective amulet I wore about my neck worked, deflecting the bullet.

“That is a neat trick,” the woman purred, walking towards me.

I backed away, fear hammering in my chest. There was nowhere I could go. She blocked the only exit. The wind gusted into the room, driving wet rain into my back – stinging cold – and causing the woman’s fiery-red hair to swirl around her like flames.

The window was open.

I didn’t think—I just turned and jumped.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam Soun

I was lost in my notes when I heard the loud pops.

I looked up. “What was that, Candy?” I asked. “It sounded like gunfire.”

I frowned; Candy and Michel were gone. The girl had been making calf-eyes at him all day instead of helping me. Fear nibbled at my stomach, so I reached into my bag and pulled out the bronze, enchanted knife, and walked cautiously out of the Matmown.

“Candy?” I called, straining to hear. The grip of my knife felt slippery in my sweaty hands.

No-one answered; my heart thudded in my chest.

“Francois? Michel?”

I reached the stairs, walking slowly up the stone runners pitted with age, trying to hear any noise over the howl of the storm and the crash of lightning—and the hammering of my heart. I reached the first floor and glanced at the entrance. My breath caught—there was Francois lying slumped to the floor, his throat torn out, dark blood pooling around his body.

The Alukah was here. A sudden anger flashed through me, momentarily driving out the fear. The idiot must have invited her in!

I felt something tickle the back of my neck like someone was watching me. I whirled around to see a form flying at me. I panicked, thrusting the knife blindly before me. I saw a woman’s face – eyes wild, mouth open and full of sharp teeth – a moment before she slammed into me. We fell to the floor in a tangled heap; I barely felt the stones bruise my hip. The air sizzled and the Alukah’s scream was inhuman. I pushed her off of me and my dagger was ripped out of my sweaty grip as I scrambled away. The monster rose up, naked, drenched in blood. Please, please don’t be Candy’s blood! Lodged in her shoulder, surrounded by blackening flesh, was the copper blade.

“Ohh, you will pay for that, Samnag Soun,” the Alukah hissed. “I will slowly drain every drop of blood while you beg for mercy!” She grasped the hilt and wrenched the knife free, dropping it to the ground and stalking towards me.

I was going to die. I thrust my wrist forward and unleashed the wind stored in my bracelet. It slammed into the Alukah, hurling her back like a rag-doll caught in the winds of the hurricane and slamming her heavily into a stone wall. I didn’t wait to see what happened to her, I just turned and ran down the hallway away from the monster.

Behind me I could hear vicious snarling. I reached a wooden door, slamming into it. I grasped at the old hinge and forced it open, darting through it into a kitchen. There were no other doors leading out. Shit! I looked around wildly, grabbing a thick knife from a wooden block, and ducked behind a heavy, wood table.

“I can smell you,” the Alukah purred as she burst into the kitchen. “Your coppery blood pumping in your veins, the salt of your sweat beading on your skin, the honey between your legs weeping from your cunt.” She was in the kitchen, I could see her feet as she walked by the table. “You could die screaming in pleasure. Would you like that?”

Please don’t find me! I tried to hold my breath; I needed to be quieter than a mouse as I watched the feet stalk around the kitchen. A desperate plan flashed through my mind. She was heading to the far side of the kitchen. I would have to make a run for it.

“Where are you hiding, my little mouse,” purred the Alukah. “You smell so wonderful!”

She walked past the table. I tensed, ready to spring out and make my desperate bid for escape.

The table was thrown aside and the Alukah stared down at me with hungry eyes. I lunged with the butcher knife, stabbing her right in the heart. She grabbed my arm with one hand and plucked the knife out of her breast with the other, tossing it contemptuously to the floor. It was stainless steel, not enchanted or made of cold iron, and was completely ineffective against spiritual flesh.

I was dead.

She licked my wrist and I struggled to break her grip. She sank her fangs into my flesh.

Pleasure poured into me like a drug, trembling wonderfully through my body. Why was I resisting her? She brought me this amazing feeling. I shuddered as she drank the dark blood that oozed out of my flesh. I stopped struggling. Why would I even want to fight the rapture her fangs brought me?

“Imagine how it will feel when I drink from your thigh. From the femoral artery that runs right past your sopping pussy, draining you dry of every last drop of blood.” She inhaled deeply. “Your arousal smells so intoxicating!”

She pushed me to the floor and I spread my thighs for her. I wanted her to taste me, to drink my blood. I wanted to feel that pleasure even if it killed me! My pussy ached with desire. Her tongue licked through my cunt and I arched my back. Her tongue was hot, her lips sucking at my clit. She sent her tongue probing every fold of my flower, and my orgasm exploded through me.

She shifted, straddling my hips and lowering her shaved pussy to my lips. I buried my face into her cunt, licking, sucking. She tasted wonderful, tart and tangy, her honey thick as it filled my hungry lips. Her mouth was kissing at my inner thigh—above my femoral artery.

“Beg,” she hissed. “Beg and I’ll send you to the afterlife on a river of pleasure.”

“Yes, please!” I cried out, lost to ecstasy. “I need to feel that pleasure! Drink my life!”

Her mouth opened, her teeth were sharp on my thigh. I squirmed, I couldn’t wait to feel this pleasure. I moaned as the sharp, agonizing rapture of her teeth began to penetrate my skin, slowly driving towards the artery. I groaned, squeezing my nipples. I was going to die experiencing the greatest pleasure of my life! My body burned to feel it, I didn’t care what happened to me. Nothing mattered, not even my beautiful Candy.

I saw her face floating above us; even twisted in pain and anger she was so beautiful, framed by her wet, half-blue and half-pink hair. I would miss her. A small regret filled me. I never told her how much I loved her. “Goodbye, Candy,” I whispered.

The Alukah’s scream was unearthly pain, back arching up and her teeth releasing my flesh mere centimeters from reaching my artery. She flopped off me, smoke rising from her back, as she sprawled and spasmed on the stone floor of the kitchen in pain, writhing like a spider missing a few legs. Standing above her was a limping Candy, completely drenched, her right leg twisted, broken.

“I got the bitch,” she groaned in pain, and collapsed on the floor.

The Alukah was shriveling black, like a corpse drying out in the desert, mummifying. Her body gave one last spasm, then her screams cut off into a sibilant whisper. A bronze dagger gleamed in her back – the one I stabbed the monster with and she dropped in the hallway, I realized – half the blade sunk into the foul corpse’s back.

Candy crawled to me and kissed me on the lips. Her tears were warm and salty as they fell on my face.

“You saved me, Candy,” I whispered back and kissed her again, holding her tight. I never wanted to let her go.

The end.

Der Pakt mit dem Teufel Kapitel 8: Abendessen und eine Orgie

 

 

Der Pakt mit dem Teufel

Kapitel 8: Abendessen und eine Orgie

Von mypenname3000

Übersetzt von Horem

© Copyright 2013, 2014


Story Codes: Male/Females, Female/Females, Males/Female, Mind Control, Orgy, BDSM, Rimming, Anal

Yes, this is in German. Horem graciously offered to translate the Devil’s Pact into German. 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 Kapitel 7



Korina führte uns zu einem Tisch am Fenster. Es war mit einem weißen Tischtuch bedeckt und silbernes Besteck lag darauf. In silbernen Kerzenhaltern brannten rosafarbene Kerzen. Rote Blütenblätter von Rosen waren auf dem Tisch verstreut und es gab zwei Flaschen Champagner in Eiskübeln. Ich rückte meiner Verlobten den Stuhl zurecht und sie lächelte mich an. Das Lächeln war so schön, dass ich mich am liebsten nach vorne gebeugt und ihre roten Lippen in einem Kuss eingefangen hätte. Dann setzte ich mich ihr gegenüber. Korinas schwere Brüste schwangen hin und her, als sie uns jeweils eine Flöte Champagner eingoss und Mary streckte ihre Hand aus und spielte mit ihrem Bauchnabelpiercing, einem silbernen Herzchen, das an einem silbernen Kettchen baumelte. Xiu brachte uns zwei Speisekarten und legte sie vor uns auf den Tisch. Auf der anderen Seite des Raumes wurden Lana und Chantelle von Wanda zu ihrem Tisch gebracht.

Ich schaute auf die Speisekarte und dann auf Xiu und ihren wunderbaren Vorbau. Die asiatische Schönheit öffnete den Reißverschluss meiner Hose und saugte meinen hungrigen Schwanz hungrig in ihren kleinen Mund. „Ohhh, was für ein verdorbenes Mädchen“, gurrte Mary. „Du hast ihr noch nicht einmal gesagt, dass sie dich lutschen soll.“ Xiu keuchte auf meinem Schwanz, als Mary anfing, ihren Fuß in ihren haarigen Busch zu drücken. „Gib ihm einen Tittenfick mit deinen riesigen Titten, Schlampe!“

Xius Brüste waren weich und seidig an meinem Schwanz, als sie sie langsam auf und ab bewegte. „Danke, Mary“, stöhnte ich. „Ihre Titten fühlen sich einzigartig an.“

Mary hob ihre Champagnerflöte und ich hob meine. „Auf einen lustvollen Abend!“ sagte sie und unsere Gläser stießen zusammen. Der Champagner war gut gekühlt und perlte, als er durch meine Kehle gluckerte. Mary grinste und leckte sich die Lippen nach dem wahrscheinlich ersten Schluck Champagner ihres Lebens. Es war übrigens auch tatsächlich mein erster Schluck. Mary lächelte übermütig und schob dann ihren Rock hoch. „Ingrid“, rief sie die blonde, nordisch aussehende Frau.

„Ja, Miss?“

Mary streckte ihre Hand aus und griff nach dem langen straff gebundenen Zopf der Frau, der bis zu ihrem Arsch nach unten reichte. Sie zog ihr Gesicht kräftig nach unten. „Geh auf die Knie und leck mir meine verdorbene Muschi, Hure!“

„Ja, Miss“, keuchte Ingrid, während Mary ihren Kopf nach unten drückte. Sie ging auf die Knie und war jetzt neben Xiu unter dem Tisch. Sie fing an, geräuschvoll Marys Fotze auszulecken.

„Verdammt, diese Bitch ist richtig geil auf meine Muschi“, stöhnte Mary. Dann nahm sie die Speisekarte. „Mmmm, wie wäre es mit Garnelen als Vorspeise?“

Ich grunzte nur, mein Schwanz fühlte sich zu gut, als dass ich mir Gedanken über eine Vorspeise gemacht hätte. Xiu nahm jetzt nämlich noch ihre Zunge zum Tittenfick hinzu. Sie leckte immer wieder über meine Eichel, wenn mein Schwanz aus dem Tal zwischen ihren Titten auftauchte. Korina nahm unsere Bestellung entgegen. Ihre Nippel waren ganz hart und ihr Gesicht war erhitzt. Ich streckte meine Hand aus und spielte an ihrem festen Arsch, dann tauchte ich ein und fand ihre rasierte Vulva nass und heiß. Sie keuchte, als ich ihr einen Finger hineinsteckte.

„Was möchtest du als Hauptgericht, Mark?“ fragte Mary atemlos. „Ich hatte gedacht… ohh Scheiße!“ Sie brach ab und wand sich auf ihrem Stuhl. Sie keuchte laut. „Jesus Christus, diese kleine Nutte hat meinen G-Punkt gefunden!“ Mary nahm ihren Champagner und trank den Rest in einem Zug aus. Ingrid kroch unter dem Tisch hervor. Ihre Lippen waren mit Mösensaft verschmiert. Mary hielt ihr Glas hoch und Ingrid füllte es schnell. „Ich wollte sagen, ich hatte gedacht, Thunfisch.“

„Und Sie Sir?“ fragte Korina. Ihre Stimme war sehr hoch und gleichzeitig kehlig, während mein Finger das Innere ihrer Fotze erkundete.

„Ich nehme das Steak“, stöhnte ich. Ich war kurz davor zu kommen und ich konnte mich nicht darauf konzentrieren, auf die Speisekarte zu schauen.

„Und wie hätten Sie es gerne?“ fragte Korina. Sie biss sich auf die Lippe und bemühte sich, sich auf ihren Job zu konzentrieren.

„Medium“, stöhnte ich und spritzte dann mein Sperma über Xius olivfarbene Brüste.

„Okay, Sir“, sagte Korina und wollte in Richtung auf die Küche gehen. Ich leckte meine Finger ab. Sie hatte einen süßen und würzigen Geschmack.

Mary fasste Korina am Arm und hielt sie auf. „Xiu soll die Bestellung in die Küche bringen“, sagte Mary und zog Korina nach unten auf ihren Schoß und saugte an einem ihrer dunklen Nippel.

Xiu nahm den Bestellzettel und wurde sehr rot. Sie ging nackt zur Küche und war mit Sperma bedeckt. Es gab ein bisschen Gejohle. Xiu kam schnell wieder zurück, aber sie lächelte. Vielleicht ließ sie sich gerne erniedrigen. Ich trank den Rest meines Champagners und folgte dann Marys Beispiel und zog Ingrid auf meinen Schwanz. Ihre nasse Fotze rutschte sehr angenehm auf meinem Schwanz nach unten und sie keuchte, als ich in sie eindrang. Sie rutschte ein wenig hin und her, um sich ein wenig an die plötzliche Penetration zu gewöhnen. Ich küsste ihre Lippen und schmeckte Marys süßes und würziges Aroma auf ihren rosigen Lippen.

„Du sollst nicht einfach nur auf meinem Schwanz sitzen, Hure!“ schimpfte ich. „Bewege gefälligst deinen Arsch“!

Während sie meinen Schwanz fickte, zog ich Xiu herüber und ließ Ingrid meinen Saft von Xius großen vollen Titten lecken. Ingrid fand Spaß daran. Sie stöhnte, als sie Xius wunderschöne Titten ableckte und saugte. Ihre Hand fuhr unter die Schürze von Xiu und fing an, die Muschi des asiatischen Mädchens zu fingern. Ingrids Muschi war eng und seidig auf meinem Schwanz und ich schoss ihr eine Ladung Sperma tief hinein. Sie stand stolpernd von meinem Schoß auf und fing an, ihren Kitzler zu reiben, während ihr mein Saft an den Beinen herunterlief.

„Service“, wurde aus der Küche gerufen. Niemand von der Küchenbesatzung kam heraus. Ich war sehr damit einverstanden, dass die Köche in der Küche blieben.

Ich schlug Ingrid auf den Arsch und sie lief schnell in die Küche. „Verdammt! Der kleinen Schlampe läuft Sperma aus der Fotze!“ rief einer der Köche. „Bleib doch hier, süße Ingrid, ich habe einen dicken Schwanz, den ich dir gerne reinschieben würde.“ „Nein, hast du nicht. Dein Schwanz ist so klein wie mein kleiner Finger. Ich habe allerdings einen Monsterschwanz für dich!“

Ingrid floh aus der Küche, genauso verlegen wie auch Xiu gewesen war. Der Tisch wackelte ein wenig, als sich Korina auf eine Ecke setzte. Sie stöhnte, als Mary ihr die Muschi ausleckte. Korina hatte mir den Rücken zugewendet. Er war mit Schweiß bedeckt. Ihre Muskeln spannten sich an, während sie sich auf Marys Zunge wand. „Oh verdammt! Ja, ja, deine Zunge ist wunderbar! Verdammt! Mir kommt es! Oh Gott, ich komme!“

Ingrid stellte die Platte mit den dampfenden Garnelen auf den Tisch und Korina hüpfte gleichzeitig wieder herunter. Mary griff nach Ingrid, dann nahm sie eine Garnele und biss hungrig hinein. Ich nahm mir auch eine und wollte schon hineinbeißen, da hatte ich eine perverse Idee. Ich schlug auf Korinas Arsch und kommandierte: „Beug dich nach vorne, Schlampe!“

Korina beugte sich vor und ihre rasierte Fotze wurde zwischen ihren Beinen sichtbar. Ich schob die Garnele in ihre Muschi und bewegte sie einige Male hin und her, damit sie gut mariniert wurde. Dann stopfte ich mir die exquisite Garnele in den Mund und genoss das süße Aroma, das Korina hinzugefügt hatte. Mary lächelte und beugte Ingrid nach vorne. Sie bedeckte ihre Garnele mit meinem Sperma und Ingrids Mösensaft.

„Mhhh“, machte Mary und schmatzte mit den Lippen. „So sollten sie sie verkaufen! Was meinst du Schlampe? Würdest du gerne das Sperma deines Kunden in deiner Fotze haben und das dann zum Dippen benutzen?“

Ingrid schüttelte den Kopf. „Nein, Miss.“

Mary steckte ihr eine weitere Garnele in die Fotze. „Natürlich willst du das, Schlampe. Ich meine, schau doch selbst, wie nass du bist. Dein Saft läuft dir ja schon an den Beinen herunter. Hier, probier mal!“ Ingrid biss zögernd in die Garnele, die mit Sperma bedeckt war. „Gut, oder?“ fragte Mary.

„Ja“, sagte Ingrid und lächelte scheu.

„Natürlich willst du das, du bist doch eine verdorbene Schlampe“, sagte Mary und schob ihr die nächste Garnele zum Marinieren in die Fotze. „Du bist eine verdorbene Schlampe, die gerne Sachen in ihrer Fotze stecken hat.“

Ich wechselte zwischen Xius und Korinas Fotze ab. Beide hatten leicht unterschiedliche Aromen. Xiu war etwas herber und Korina war etwas süßer. Meine letzte Garnele steckte ich nacheinander in beide Fotzen und genoss die Mischung der unterschiedlichen Aromen. Nachdem Mary ihre letzte Garnele gegessen hatte, stand sie auf und fing an, ihr Korsett zu öffnen. Das weiße Kleid rutschte glatt an ihrem Körper nach unten. Nackt ging sie zum Fenster und schaute auf Seattle hinab. Ihr Arsch war schön rund und ich stand auf und stellte mich hinter sie. Mein Schwanz rieb sich an ihren weichen Arschbacken.

Mary drehte ihren Verlobungsring. „Das war ein so toller Tag. Ich danke dir!“ Sie drehte ihren Kopf zu mir und küsste mich. „Ich würde jetzt gerne den Schwanz meines Verlobten in meinem Arsch spüren.“

Ich lächelte. „Verdorbenes Fohlen!“ flüsterte ich, als ich ihr enges Arschloch zwischen ihren weichen Arschbacken fand. Mary keuchte und wackelte ein wenig mit ihrem Hintern, als ich ihr langsam meinen nassen Schwanz in ihr Arschloch schob. „Verdammt, ist das eng!“ stöhnte ich und fing an, sie langsam zu ficken. Vor uns drehte sich langsam Seattle unter uns, ein Juwel zwischen zwei dunklen Wasserflächen.

„Ich liebe dich“, stöhnte Mary, während wir in einem langsamen Rhythmus fickten und langsam aber sicher unsere Lust aufbauten.

„Ich liebe dich auch, Mary“, flüsterte ich und fing an, ihren Hals und ihr Ohr zu küssen. Ich fing an, sie schneller und drängender zu ficken. Ihre Hand nahm meine Hand und zog sie an ihre Brust. Ich drückte ihr festes Fleisch und ihren harten Nippel. Wir bewegten uns synchron und arbeiteten beide daran, es dem anderen schön zu machen. Ihr Arsch war eng und seidig und heiß. Ich spürte, wie sich meine Lenden zusammenzogen, ich war kurz davor, zu kommen. Ich hielt mich zurück, weil ich wollte, dass Mary gleichzeitig mit mir kam.

„Verdammt, mir kommt es!“ zischte Mary. „Oh fick mich, mein Hengst, fick mich, bis es mir kommt. Fick mich du geiler Bock!“ Ihr Arsch zog sich auf meinem Schwanz zusammen und molk ihn. Ich stöhnte und schoss ihr meinen Saft in die Eingeweide. Ich nahm sie fest in die Arme und schaukelte sie leicht hin und her. Beide schauten wir auf die Stadt hinaus und genossen den Moment.

„Sir, Miss“, rief Korina zögerlich. „Das Hauptgericht ist da.“

Marys Magen knurrte und wir lachten beide. Ich zog meinen Schwanz aus ihrem Arsch, ein wenig Sperma sickerte heraus und schob ihr den Stuhl zurecht. Unsere Champagnerflöten waren wieder gefüllt worden und zwei Teller mit den Hauptgerichten dampften auf dem Tisch. Mein Steak war rosa und saftig. Es schmolz geradezu in meinem Mund. Dazu gab es Pommes Frites, die in Entenfett gebraten waren und dem Gericht eine besondere Note gaben. Ich sah kein Ketchup und ließ Korina sich wieder nach vorne beugen und dann benutzte ich ihren Mösensaft, um die Pommes dort zu dippen. Mary stahl ein paar von meinen Pommes und versuchte auch Korinas Spezialsoße, also klaute ich ihr ein Stück von ihrem Thunfisch. Ich lachte, als Mary versuchte, das zu verhindern. Wir leerten eine zweite Flasche Champagner, die Flüssigkeit prickelte durch meine Blutbahn, mir wurde warm. Also zog ich meine Sachen aus, während Mary und Ingrid pfiffen und johlten.

Mary hatte Korinas dicke Möse angeschaut, als sie nach vorne gebeugt dastand. Sie stand auf, als sie mit ihrer Mahlzeit fertig war. Sie nahm sich Korina und zog sie auf den Boden. Dann überkreuzte sie ihre Beine mit Korinas, so dass sich ihre Fotzen küssten. Mary liebte es, sich auf diese Weise an einer anderen Frau zu reiben. Und ich liebte es ihr dabei zuzusehen. Mary fickte ihre Fotze hart gegen die von Korina und beide Frauen keuchten und stöhnten. Ich trank noch ein wenig Champagner und schaute Ingrid und Xiu an. Ingrid war beinahe einen ganzen Kopf größer als Xiu. Sie war schlank und hatte kleine Brüste. Xiu war insgesamt sehr zierlich, bis auf ihre Brüste, die mindestens D-Körbchen füllen mussten. Sie sahen an ihrem Körper beinahe lächerlich aus. Welche von beiden sollte ich ficken? Nun, Ingrid enge Fotze hatte ich schon gehabt.

Ich klatschte auf Xius Arsch und befahl: „Auf deine Knie wie eine Schlampe!“

„Ja, Sir“, antwortete Xiu schnell. Sie kniete sich hin und zeigte so die dichte Matte aus schwarzem Schamhaar, die ihre nasse Muschi bedeckte.

Ich kniete mich hinter sie und spreizte ihr die Arschbacken. Gott, was für ein einladender Arsch! Mein Schwanz war getrocknet und sie war nicht mit Gleitmittel eingeschmiert. Ich wollte eigentlich denken, aber mein Kopf kochte wegen des Champagners und ihr Arsch war so einladend. Ich war zu betrunken mir darum Sorgen zu machen, ob ich ihr wehtat. Ich rammte ihr meinen Schwanz hart in den Arsch. Xiu schrie auf vor Schmerz und zuckte unter mir, als ich anfing, ihren Arsch mit kraftvollen tiefen Stößen zu ficken. Xius Schreien fing an, meine Ohren zu stören. Ich musste irgendwas mit dem Mund dieser kleinen Schlampe machen. Ich sah, wie Ingrid masturbierte.

„Ingrid, steck deine Fotze in ihr Gesicht!“ rief ich. „Xiu, dann kannst du was Sinnvolles mit deinem Mund machen!“ sagte ich. Ich fickte sie jetzt richtig hart und fest. Ihr Arsch war fast schmerzhaft eng auf meinem Schwanz und er war nach wie vor trocken. Die Wände ihres Arsches rieben sich rau an meinem Schwanz. Mein Kopf war etwas wirr von dem vielen Champagner und zu spüren, wie sich Xiu vor Schmerz unter mir wand, sorgte dafür, dass sich ihr Arsch noch besser anfühlte.

„Fick dieser kleinen Schlampe den Arsch“, stöhnte Mary, die sich fieberhaft mit Korina rieb. Korina griff nach Marys Bein und sie leckte mit ihrer Zunge ihre süßen kleinen Zehen. „Fick sie richtig durch, Mark! Sie ist eine verdorbene kleine Nutte, die bestraft werden muss!“

Ingrid wand sich auf Xius Zunge und Xius Wimmern wurde durch Ingrids Muff gedämpft. Xius Arsch fühlte sich so gut an, dass es nicht lange dauerte, bis ich mich in ihre Eingeweide ergoss. Ich rammte mich noch einmal bis zur Schwanzwurzel in ihren engen Arsch und genoss das Nachglühen meines Orgasmus. Dabei beobachtete ich, wie Xiu Ingrids verkommene Fotze leckte und aussaugte. Ingrid hatte eine Hand in Xius Haar vergraben und fing an, ihren blonden Busch über Xius Lippen zu reiben. „Verdammt!, Mach mich fertig, du Sau!“ stöhnte sie. „Oh verdammt, deine Zunge ist so gut!“

Schließlich zog ich mich aus Xius Arsch zurück. Mein Schwanz war klebrig und verschmutzt. Ich fasste sie beim Kopf und zwang sie dazu, meinen Schwanz sauber zu machen. Sie würgte, als ich ihr meinen Schwanz in den Hals fickte, aber ich hielt ihren Kopf schön fest. Ich beobachtete, wie meine Verlobte es wie wild mit Korina trieb. Die Schlampe mit dem Puppengesicht keuchte und schüttelte sich, ihre großen Titten schaukelten, als es ihr auf Marys Fotze kam.

„Oh, du alte Sau!“ stöhnte Mary. „Du bist doch tatsächlich vor mir gekommen!“ Jetzt rieb Mary ihre Fotze noch intensiver an Korina, die sich weiter schüttelte, weil ihr Orgasmus gar nicht aufhören wollte. Dann schrie Mary laut auf, ihre Zehen rollten sich ein, sie zuckte und es kam ihr auch gewaltig. Sie brach zusammen und atmete heftig.

Ich wollte mehr Champagner und bemerkte, dass die Flasche leer war. Ich zog meinen harten Schwanz zwischen Xius Lippen hervor. „Hol noch mehr Champagner, du Schlampe“, befahl ich. Xiu stolperte in Richtung Bar. Mein Sperma sickerte aus ihrem wunden Arsch. Ich nahm Ingrid Zopf und zog sie hoch. Dann stieß ich ihr meinen Schwanz in den Mund. Ich fickte ihren Mund einige Male, dann spritzte ich ihr mein Sperma in die Kehle. Gerade kam Xiu mit zwei Flaschen Champagner wieder zu uns zurück. Sie hatte ein breites Lächeln auf den Lippen.

Sie kam bei mir an und küsste mich heiß auf die Lippen. Ihre Lippen schmeckten ein wenig sauer nach dem Geschmack ihres Arsches und salzig nach dem Geschmack meines Spermas. „Danke“, sagte sie. „So hart ist es mir noch nie gekommen!“

Ich nahm die Champagnerflasche und entkorkte sie. „Du magst es also gerne ein bisschen rauer, was?“

„Ja!“ stöhnte sie. Ich nahm einen Schluck aus der Flasche und bot sie anschließend ihr an. Auch sie nahm einen großen Schluck.

Ich drückte sie rau gegen den Tisch und warf beinahe die Kerzen um. Ich nahm mir eine der Kerzen und zucke ein wenig, als das heiße Wachs auf meine Hand tropfte und sofort erstarrte. Ich stieß ihr die Kerze in den Arsch. „Bleib so, du Schlampe!“

Sie wand sich. „Scheiße, das tut weh“, stöhnte sie, als heißes Wachs an der Kerze nach unten lief und auf ihrem Arsch abkühlte. Noch mehr lief auf ihre Haut und verfing sich in ihrem Schamhaar.

„Das magst du doch, du Nutte!“ rief ich und schlug ihr auf den Arsch.

„Jaaaa!“ schrie sie. Verdammt nochmal, diese kleine Fotze kam schon wieder.

„Ich werde dich zu meiner Sklavin machen, Bitch! Wie gefällt dir das?“

„Ja!“ stöhnte sie, und noch mehr Wachs lief herunter und bedeckte ihr Schamhaar. „Benutze mich – missbrauche mich! Ich mache alles!“

„Dann bin ich also dein Meister und Mary ist deine Herrin. Du wirst alles tun, was wir dir sagen, egal wie krank oder pervers es auch ist.“

„Ja, oh ja!“ keuchte sie.

Ich trank noch mehr von dem Champagner und schüttete ihr etwas auf den Arsch. Ich bückte mich und leckte ihn von ihrem Arsch wieder herunter. „Ohh, das sieht lustig aus“, sagte Mary von hinten. Mein Gott, sie sah noch wunderbarer aus, wenn ihr Körper von einem Orgasmus noch erhitzt war. Säfte bedeckten ihre Schenkel. Auch Mary leckte etwas Champagner von Xius Arsch herunter. Dann biss sie ihr in eine Arschbacke und hinterließ Bissmarken.

Mary zeigte auf Ingrid und klopfte dann auf den Tisch neben Xiu. Ingrid setzte sich dort hin und ich goss ihr Champagner über den Körper. Die goldene Flüssigkeit lief an ihren Brüsten herunter über ihren Bauch und benetzte ihr Schamhaar. Mary leckte ihr den Champagner von einer Titte und saugte dann den ihrer rosafarbenen Nippel in ihren Mund. Ich gesellte mich zu ihr und lutschte an der anderen Titte.

„Mark“, sagte Mary und kicherte. „Sie hat ja eine Kerze im Arsch!“

Ich lachte. „Das weiß ich schon. Ich habe sie da reingesteckt!“

Sie lachte hysterisch und stolperte rückwärts. Beinahe wäre sie gefallen. „Was für eine verdorbene Nutte! Du hast ja eine Kerze im Arsch!“ sagte Mary und fing an, ihr auf den Arsch zu schlagen. „In deinem verdorbenen Schlampenarsch!“

„Ohh, schlag mich härter, Herrin“, stöhnte Xiu.

„Herrin?“ staunte Mary und dann kicherte sie und schlug weiter. „Bist du meine versaute, dreckige schlampige Sklavin?“ Jedes ihrer Worte akzentuierte sie mit einem Schlag.

„Ja!“ keuchte Xiu und wand sich auf dem Tisch.

„Und schau dir das ganze Wachs in deinem Schamhaar an!“ rief Mary.

Ich war wieder hart und mein Kopf drehte sich von all dem Champagner. Ich stolperte auf Korina zu. „Dich habe ich noch nicht gefickt, oder?“ fragte ich. Ich war mir ziemlich sicher, dass ich recht hatte.

„Nein, Sir“, antwortete sie. Ich schob sie gegen Ingrid. Korinas große Titten rieben sich an Ingrids nassen Brüsten. Ich spreizte ihre Beine und stieß in ihre nasse Muschi hinein. Sie war eng und wand sich höchst angenehm auf meinem Schwanz. Ingrid fing an, Korina zu küssen und die beiden Mädchen fingen an, sich aneinander zu reiben, während ich Korina von hinten fickte.

„Du hast viel zu viele Haare an deiner Fotze!“ kicherte Mary und spielte mit Xius schwarzem Busch. „Einfach zu viele! Viel zu viele Haare! Meine Schlampen müssen gewachst sein!“ Xiu schrie auf und zuckte auf dem Tisch, als Mary ein Stück von dem erstarrten Wachs abriss und dabei ein ganzes Büschel von Xius lockigem schwarzem Schamhaar mitnahm. „Heilige Scheiße!“ lallte Mary. Sie keuchte. „Dieser Schlampe ist es gekommen, als ich… das war ja irre!“ Mary riss ein zweites Stück Wachs und Haare ab und Xiu wand sich wieder auf dem Tisch. Sie stöhnte vor Schmerz und Lust.

Ich fickte Korina sehr hart und stieß damit ihre Möse in die von Ingrid. Der ganze Raum drehte sich und ich stolperte zurück und fiel auf meinen Rücken. Ingrid und Korina bemerkten das nicht einmal. Die beiden rieben sich einfach weiter aneinander. Mary schnaubte vor Lachen und setzte sich auf meinen Schwanz und fing an zu hüpfen. Gott, ihre Muschi fühlte sich himmlisch an.

„Komm her!“ rief Mary. Ich blinzelte und versuchte, meinen Blick zu fokussieren. Mein Kopf schwamm wegen des vielen Alkohols, den ich inzwischen getrunken hatte und außerdem fühlte sich Marys Fotze so unglaublich gut an. Dann sagte Mary irgendwas mit „Gesicht“. Ich schloss meine Augen und genoss ihre enge Schnalle. Und als ich sie wieder öffnete, war gerade in Paar blasser Beine dabei, sich über mein Gesicht zu stellen. Ein rothaariger Muff senkte sich auf mein Gesicht. Ich versuche mich zu erinnern, wessen Beine und Muff das waren. Dann fing ich an, ihre Schamlippen zu lecken, das rote Haar kitzelte meine Nase. Sie schmeckte würzig und dann erkannte ich, dass es mir völlig egal war, wie sie hieß, es kam darauf an, dass ihre Fotze schmeckte. Sie stöhnte über mir und dann gab es ein nasses schmatzendes Geräusch. Wurde da geküsst? Ein Bild von zwei rothaarigen Schönheiten, die sich küssten, entstand in meinem Kopf.

Mary stöhnte: „Wessen Muschi habe ich da auf deinen Lippen geschmeckt?“

„Chantelles“, sagte die Frau auf meinem Gesicht kichernd.

Marys Fotze zog sich auf meinem Schwanz zusammen. „Ohh, die muss ich auch noch lecken!“ stöhnte Mary und dann gab es ein nasses saugendes Geräusch. „Verdorbenes Mädchen! Lutsch an meinen Titten, du alte Nutte! Oh, das ist toll! Ein Schwanz in meiner Fotze und ein Mund einer Frau an meinen Titten.“

Marys Fotze zuckte auf meinem Schwanz, ihre Hüften fickten mich heftig und sie heulte ihre wortlose Leidenschaft heraus. Ich stöhnte in den roten Muff und in meinem Mund war ihr dickflüssiger Honig. Dann schoss ich mehrere kraftvolle Spritzer in Marys Möse. Mary hörte auf zu zucken. Sie ruhte sich auf mir aus und dann fing sie wieder an zu küssen… Fiona, so hieß die rothaarige Schlampe. Fiona wand sich auf meiner Zunge und ihr Stöhnen wurde durch Marys Küsse gedämpft. Ich fand ihren Kitzler und saugte feste und Fiona überflutete meinen Mund mit frischem Saft, als der Orgasmus durch ihren Körper lief.

Mary stand auf und mein Schwanz rutschte aus ihrer Möse heraus. Ich schob Fiona von meinem Gesicht herunter und bemühte mich, auf die Füße zu kommen, dabei fiel ich wieder einmal nach hinten. Mit Fionas Hilfe schaffte ich es schließlich und fand noch mehr Champagner. Auf der anderen Seite des Raumes war Mary Teil einer lesbischen Kette. Sie leckte Chantelles Fotze, die Lana leckte, die sich an Wanda gütlich tat, die heftig an Ingrid kaute, die sich die dunkelhäutige Hannah vorgenommen hatte, die die Kette dadurch schloss, dass sie an Marys Fotze leckte.

„Das ist ja irre!“ flüsterte ich. Ich suchte meinen Mantel und fand ihn neben Xiu, die noch immer über den Tisch gebeugt war und in deren Arsch noch immer die Kerze brannte. Noch mehr Wachs war au ihr Schamhaar gelaufen. In der Manteltasche fand ich den Camcorder. Diese lesbische Kette musste ich unbedingt filmen.

Ich ging hinüber zu Korina und Fiona, die beide wie gebannt zusahen und sich ihre Saftfotzen fingerten. Ich fing an zu filmen. Dabei wurde mein Schwanz schon wieder steinhart. Alle Frauen stöhnten unter dem Angriff fremder Lippen. Lana bekam als erste ihren Orgasmus. Sie keuchte in die Fotze ihrer Frau. Chantelle ließ sich davon nicht stören und leckte einfach weiter. Hannah war die nächste und dann kamen Chantelle und Wanda gleichzeitig. Lana war es ein zweites Mal gekommen, bevor Mary ihren ersten Orgasmus hatte.

Die Luft war von weiblicher Lust geschwängert. Mein Schwanz schmerzte. „Lutsch mich“, befahl ich. Mir war es egal, ob Fiona oder Korina diesen Job übernahm.

Beide Mädchen knieten sich vor mir hin. Korina saugte meinen Schwanz gierig in ihren Mund und Fiona leckte mir die Eier. Korina schaute mich mit ihren tiefen blauen Augen von unten her an. Sie war glücklich, mir dienen zu dürfen. Fiona fing an, den Schaft meines Schwanzes abzulecken und dann zwang sie Korinas Mund von meinem Schwanz herunter. Sie fuhr mit ihrer Zunge um meine Eichel und dann fing sie an zu lutschen. Korina gab sich allerdings nicht geschlagen und wehrte sich und so leckten und lutschten beide Frauen gleichzeitig meinen Schwanz und meine Eier.

Ich streichelte mit meiner freien Hand Fionas rötliches Haar. „Ihr Schlampen seid so wunderschön“, stöhnte ich. „Ihr seid jetzt meine Sex-Sklavinnen, nicht wahr?“ Beide Schlampen stöhnten zustimmend und ich schoss meine weiße Soße quer über beide Gesichter. Ich filmte weiter und nahm auf, wie sie sich beide gegenseitig den Saft von den Gesichtern leckten.

Ich wandte mich wieder der lesbischen Kette zu. Alle Frauen stöhnten und kamen auf den Mündern der anderen Frauen. Ingrid kam und sie warf den Kopf in den Nacken. Dadurch konnte ich Hannas Möse gut sehen. Sie war glattrasiert und ihre Möse war von zimtroter Haut umgeben. Ich stolperte hinüber und schob Ingrid zur Seite. Dann rammte ich Hannah meinen Schwanz in die Fotze. Sie stöhnte in Marys Muschi, als ich anfing, sie heftig zu ficken. Ingrids Zunge fing an, an meinen Eiern zu lecken, während sie gegen Hannahs Arsch schlugen. Es kam Hannah beinahe im selben Moment, in dem mein Schwanz in sie eindrang. Sie war durch Ingrids Zunge gut vorbereitet gewesen.

Ich war kurz davor auch zu kommen und zog meinen Schwanz aus Hannah heraus. Dann schoss ich meine Ladung auf Hannahs zimtrote Haut. Es sah so aus wie Sahne auf dunkler Eiskreme. Der Anblick erinnerte mich daran, dass wir noch gar kein Dessert gehabt hatten. Ich schlug auf Hannahs Arsch. „Hol uns ein bisschen Schlagsahne!“

Mary stöhnte enttäuscht. „Mann, Mark!“ rief sie. „Diese Bitch hatte mich beinahe soweit!“ Die Kette fiel auseinander, als Mary dann aufstand und sich auf Wandys Gesicht hockte. „Leck mich, Schlampe!“ Mary griff nach unten und versuchte, Wandas Titten zu kneten. Die waren allerdings so klein, dass sie sich letztlich mit den Nippeln zufrieden geben musste.

Wo blieb Hannah? Wie schwierig ist es wohl, ein wenig Schlagsahne zu besorgen? Ich nahm eine Champagnerflasche, nahm einen großen Schluck und stolperte in Richtung auf die Küche. Von drinnen hörte ich unterdrückte Geräusche und Schreie. Ich schaute hinein und sah, dass Hannah von einem der Köche gegen die Wand gedrückt worden war, von einem dünnen Typ mit einem Schnurrbart und einem hinterhältigen Gesichtsausdruck. Seine weiße Hose hing an seinen Knien und er fickte Hannah. Die anderen Köche schauten interessiert zu. Zwei hatten ihre Hosen geöffnet und wichsten sich ihre Schwänze.

Ich fing auch, meinen Schwanz zu wichsen, während ich beobachtete, wie Hannah stöhnte und keuchte, während sie gefickt wurde. Ich brauchte eine Minute, um zu verstehen, dass da hinter mir ein ganzer Raum voller Muschis war, in die ich meinen Schwanz stecken konnte, als ihn hier in meiner Hand zu haben. „Lana und Chantelle, schiebt eure lesbischen Ärsche mal hierher!“

Die Frischverheirateten kam mit der Anmut von Tänzerinnen heran. Chantelle war schlank und hatte den Körper einer Tänzerin, während ihre Frau deutlich mehr Kurven hatte. Ihre großen Titten schwangen hin und her und die Goldringe in ihren Brustwarzen hüpften. Beide waren Stripperinnen aus Lakewood, wo sie sich auch getroffen und ineinander verliebt hatten. Beide begrüßten mich mit einem Kuss und drückten ihre Körper an mich.

Ich schob Lana in die Küche, direkt auf einen der Typen zu, die sich einen wichsten. „Viel Spaß!“ sagte ich und Lana nahm den Schwanz des Mannes und fing an, ihn zu wichsen.

„Was für ein wundervoller Schwanz“, schnurrte sie in ihrem slawischen Akzent.

„Oh verdammt“, krächzte der Typ und es kam ihm sehr schnell von ihrem Handjob. Er schoss ihr seinen weißen Saft auf den Bauch.

Chantelle schaute ziemlich missmutig zu, wie ihre Frau das Sperma von dem Mann mit ihren Fingern zusammenkratzte und sie dann ableckte. Ich drückte Chantelle gegen einen Tisch und schob ihr meinen Schwanz in die Fotze. „Siehst du Lana nicht so gerne mit Männern?“

„Nein“, gab Chantelle zu, während ich sie langsam fickte. Lana war zu einem anderen Koch gegangen und holt seinen Schwanz aus seiner Hose. Dann kniete sie sich hin und saugte ihn gierig in ihren Mund. „Lana weiß, dass ich das hasse. Sie steht drauf!“ beschwerte sich Chantelle mit ihrem sexy französischen Akzent. „Im Club macht sie gerne Lapdances für die Männer, wenn sie weiß, dass ich zuschaue. Sie reibt sich dann richtig an ihnen. Manchmal holt sie auch ihre Schwänze heraus und dann fickt sie sie. Das macht mich immer total eifersüchtig und sie liebt es, wie aggressiv ich dann werde. Ich ziehe sie dann hinter die Bühne und lecke ihr die Fotze aus, damit sie nie vergisst, wer sie wirklich befriedigen kann.“

Chantelle keuchte. Sie hatte ihre Augen auf ihre Frau fixiert, als der Koch sich in ihrem Mund ergoss. Chantelles Fotze packte mich geradezu und ihre Hüften zuckten im gleichen Rhythmus wie meine. Lana wurde von einem weiteren Koch hochgezogen, der sie über einen Tisch beugte und anfing, ihr seinen Schwanz in die Fotze zu rammen. Lana drehte ihren Kopf und lächelte Chantelle an.

„Dreckige Hure!“ zischte Chantelle und sie schüttelte sich auf mir, als es ihr kam. „Ohh, sie kriegt es!“

Hannah war auf den Knien. Sie nahm einen Schwanz tief in ihren Arsch und hatte einen weitern in ihrem Mund, während ein dritter Koch sein Sperma auf ihren Rücken spritzte. Der Mann in Lanas Fotze hielt nicht lange durch. Ihre Fotze war total verschleimt, als er sich herauszog. Der erste Koch, den sie vorher abgewichst hatte, war bereit für eine zweite Runde und er schob ihr seinen Schwanz in die Fotze. „Für eine Lesbe steht deine Frau ganz schön auf Schwänze!“ sagte ich zu Chantelle.

Chantelle antwortete nicht. Sie fickte mich einfach weiter. Lana kam es auf dem zweiten Koch, der ihre Fotze fickte. „Oh Chantelle, sein Schwanz ist so wundervoll!“ schnurrte sie geil. „Und sein warmer Saft schießt in mich hinein.“

„Hure!“ flüsterte Chantelle und dann stöhnte sie, weil es ihr schon wieder kam. Ein dritter Koch kam heran und hatte schon seinen Schwanz tief in Lanas mit Sperma gefüllter Fotze vergraben. Er fickte sie hart. Chantelles Fotze saugte so schön an meinem Schwanz, dass ich in sie hineinspritzte. Ärgerlich ging Chantelle dann in die Küche und schubste den dritten Koch von ihrer Frau herunter. Sie packte Lana und zog sie aus der Küche. „Dreckige Hure!“ schimpfte sie und schlug ihr auf den Hintern. „Du weißt genau, dass diese Muschi mir gehört!“

„Oh, da bin ich ja wohl schon wieder unartig gewesen“, sagte Lana mit einem verdorbenen Lächeln. Chantelle kniete vor ihr und leckte ihr wie wild die Fotze aus. Lana stöhnte geil und keuchte. Sie wand sich auf dem Gesicht ihrer Frau.

Der Koch, der gerade Lana gefickt hatte, rief: „Verdammt nochmal, ich wollte gerade kommen!“

Die Köche hatten sich nach diesem tollen Essen eine Belohnung verdient. Deshalb schickte ich Ingrid in die Küche und sie wurde auch schnell über den Tisch gebeugt und dann von dem protestierenden Koch gefickt. Der Typ, der Hannahs Arsch gefickt hatte, war gekommen und sie lag jetzt auf dem Rücken und wurde von einem riesigen Samoaner gefickt. Sie verschwand fast unter ihm. Die Schlagsahne, nach der ich sie geschickt hatte, stand auf dem Tisch, also nahm ich sie mir. Außerdem lag da eine Spule Kochgarn. Ich wette mit mir, dass Xiu sich gerne fesseln ließ, also nahm ich auch noch das Garn mit und überließ die beiden Kellnerinnen ihrem Vergnügen.

„Mark, das musst du mal versuchen“, sagte Mary und kicherte. Wanda saß auf dem Tisch und hatte eine Champagnerflasche in der Möse stecken. Die goldene Flüssigkeit spritzte rings um den Hals aus der Möse heraus und landete in Marys offenem Mund. Ich kniete mich neben sie und sie zog die Flasche aus der Fotze. Ein ganzer Schwall Champagner mit Fotzengeschmack strömte heraus. Wir pressten unsere Münder auf die Fotze und tranken die schwere Flüssigkeit, die herausströmte. Marys Hand fand meine und sie drückte sie.

„Wie wäre es mit einem kleinen Nachtisch, Mare?“

„Gute Idee, lass uns einen Nachtisch nehmen.“

Ich schob die Dose mit der Schlagsahne in Wandas Fotze und füllte sie damit auf. Mary machte sich sofort daran, die Sahne aus Wandas Möse heraus zu lutschen. Wanda stöhnte, als Mary mit ihrer Zunge so weit wie möglich eindrang. Ich spritzte auch etwas auf Marys Titte und leckte die Sahne dann selber ab. Dabei saugte ich feste an ihrem steifen Nippel.

„Wofür ist das denn?“ fragte Mary und hob das Garn hoch.

„Xiu“, antwortete ich. Dann tauchte ich wieder in Wandas Fotze, um noch mehr Sahne zu erhaschen.

Mary sprang auf ihre Füße und stolperte zu Xiu hinüber, die immer noch mit der brennenden Kerze im Arsch über den Tisch gebeugt dastand. Die Kerze war fast ganz heruntergebrannt und hatte ihre Muschi und ihren Arsch vollständig mit Wachs bedeckt. Mary riss ihr die Kerze heraus und warf sie in den Sektkühler. Xiu stöhnte. Wieder war das einen Mischung aus Schmerz und Lust, als Mary ihr das Wachs und die Schamhaare abpellte und eine beinahe ganz saubere Fotze hinterließ.

„Oh ja, reiß weiter“, stöhnte Xiu. Ihre Möse tropfte geradezu. So sehr stand sie offenbar auf Schmerzen.

Mary nahm ihre Hände und band sie hinter ihrem Rücken an den Handgelenken zusammen. Dann schlang sie das Garn um ihre Beine. Der Faden schnitt tief in ihr Fleisch ein, als sie ihre Beine zusammenband. Als nächstes legte Mary ihre Arme an ihre Seiten und schlang den Faden im Zickzack immer wieder über ihre Titten, bis sie obszön zwischen den Fäden herausquollen. Zuletzt zog sie das Garn noch durch Xius Vulva. Ihre Schamlippen umschlossen den Faden eng, als Mary das Garn anzog. Xiu schnurrte vor Lust und wand sich auf dem Boden. Nachdem die Schlampe jetzt total gefesselt war, drehte Mary Xiu auf den Rücken und setzte sich auf ihr Gesicht. Sie stöhnte, als die Chinesin anfing, ihr die Fotze auszulecken.

Während Mary Xiu fesselte, drehte ich Wanda um, beugte sie über den Tisch und packte mir ihren jungenhaften schmalen Arsch. Ich schob ihr die Dose mit der Schlagsahne in den Arsch und sie keuchte, als die kalte Sahne in ihre Eingeweide schoss. Dann zog ich die Dose wieder heraus und stieß ihr meinen Schwanz in den Arsch. Die Schlagsahne quoll seitlich an meinem Schwanz aus ihrem Arsch heraus.

„Ihre Limousine ist da, Sir“, sagte der Oberkellner vom Eingang des Restaurants her. Er schaute mit einem Ausdruck der Betroffenheit über die Orgie und auf die Sauerei, die wir veranstaltet hatten. Ich runzelte die Stirn. Limousine? Dann kam es mir wieder. Ich hatte Allison doch gestern damit beauftragt, dafür zu sorgen, dass wir um Eins von einer Limousine abgeholte worden, die uns zum Four Seasons Hotel bringen sollte.

Aber Wandas Arsch fühlte sich zu gut für mich an, Ich wollte jetzt nicht aufhören. „Sag ihm, dass wir in ein paar Minuten fertig sind. Dann kannst du in die Küche gehen und selber auch ein bisschen Spaß haben.“

„Sehr wohl, Sir“, sagte der Oberkellner steif.

Ich schaute zu Mary hinüber. An einer ihrer Titten lutschte Fiona und an der anderen Korina. Chantelle und Lana machten einen 69er in der Nähe der Küche. In der Küche hatte der Oberkellner Ingrids Arsch gefunden und er fickte sie hart. Hannah dagegen hatte in allen drei Löchern jeweils einen Koch: in Arsch, Muschi und Mund. Ich fickte Wandas Arsch hart und schaute zu, wie meine Verlobte gleich von drei Schlampen bedient wurde. Mary keuchte vor Lust und wand sich auf Xius Zunge, während sie einen Orgasmus hatte. Ich spritzte noch mehr Sahne in Wandas Arsch und hinterließ eine klebrige Masse aus Sperma und Schlagsahne.

Ich nahm mir meinen Mantel und Mary fand ihr Kleid. Sie legte es sich über den Arm. Ich legte mir die gefesselte Xiu über die Schulter, sie war ganz leicht und konnte nur etwa 45 kg wiegen. Dann führte ich Mary, die Frischverheirateten und die Kellnerinnen außer Ingrid und Hannah, die sich noch immer in der Küche nützlich machten, nackt zum Aufzug. Als der Aufzug nach unten fuhr, fand mein Schwanz den Weg in Fionas Fotze und es kam mir beinahe in ihr, als der Fahrstuhlkorb unten ankam. Der Fahrer der Limousine wartete und er reagierte überhaupt nicht, als ein nackter Mann und sechs nackte Frauen auf die weiße Limousine zu stolperten. Er hielt uns die Türe auf und wir stiegen alle ein.

Es gab ein Schiebedach. Ich öffnete es sofort und stand auf. Ich zog Fiona mit nach oben. Ich wollte schließlich zu Ende bringen, was ich im Aufzug angefangen hatte. Ich fickte sie hart, während wir durch die Straßen von Seattle fuhren. Ich war trunken vom Champagner und von meiner Macht und mir war es völlig egal, wer sehen konnte, dass ich diese irische Schönheit fickte. Sollte die ganze Welt ruhig meine Macht erkennen! Nichts konnte mich aufhalten! Mary stellte sich neben mich, legte einen Arm um meine Hüfte und hielt sich Wandas Gesicht gegen ihre Fotze. Genauso wie ich ging auch Mary ab bei dem Wissen, dass sie beobachtet wurde und im Wissen, dass nichts und niemand sie aufhalten konnte.

Wenn ich nüchtern gewesen wäre, dann wäre ich wahrscheinlich erstaunt gewesen, dass wir nicht einen einzigen der Bullen von Seattle zu Gesicht bekamen. Aber dazu war ich viel zu betrunken. Als wir im Four Seasons ankamen, hatte ich in Fionas Fotze gespritzt und war kurz davor, auch noch in Lanas enge Fotze zu spritzen. Mary ließ sich jetzt von Chantelle lecken, nachdem es ihr sowohl auf Wandas als auch auf Korinas Gesicht gekommen war. Als Trinkgeld überließen wir dem Fahrer Wanda für den Rest der Nacht. Sie war sehr willig, stieg vorne ein und fing sofort an, dem Fahrer den Schwanz durch seine Hose zu reiben.

Die Lobby des Hotels war fast ausgestorben, nur der Nachtportier, eine attraktive Schwarze und ein Page befanden sich hinter dem Tresen. Ich bestätigte unsere Reservierung für die Präsidentensuite und gab Chantelle und Lana die Flitterwochen-Suite für eine Woche. Bezahlen tat ich das mit der Kreditkarte von Brandon Fitzsimmons. Auf der Aufzugfahrt nach oben, hatte ich Spaß mit ein bisschen schwarzer Muschi, als ich die Nachtwache fickte. Ihre Muschi war eng und nass und sie fluchte wie eine Wilde, während ich sie von hinten nahm. Ihr breiter Arsch schaukelte jedes Mal, wenn mein Bauch gegen sie klatschte. Ich hinterließ in ihrer Muschi eine heiße Ladung.

In der Zwischenzeit hatte Mary angefangen, den Pagen zu küssen und ihm den Hosengürtel zu öffnen. Dann drückte er sie an die Wand des Fahrstuhls und fickte wie wild ihre Muschi. Seine Hose fiel bis zu seinen Knien herunter. Mary griff nach seinem Arsch und schob ihm dann einen Finger in sein Arschloch. Der Typ zuckte wie wild und stöhnte: „Verdammt, mir kommt es, du geile Fotze!“

In mir stieg Ärger auf, weil der Typ es wagte, meine Verlobte mit einem solchen Schimpfwort zu belegen. Ohne nachzudenken ballte ich meine Faust und schlug ihm seitlich gegen den Kopf. Er stolperte zurück und starrte mich an. „Du redest hier mit meiner Verlobten, du Arschloch!“ schrie ich ihn an und schlug ihn ein zweites Mal. Dabei brach ich ihm die Nase.

„Deine Verlobte ist eine Nutte“ schrie er zurück und fasste sich an die Nase. Er versuchte, sein Gleichgewicht zu halten, wurde dabei aber durch die Hose an seinen Knien gehindert.

„Du wirst nie wieder für eine Frau hart werden“, sagte ich scharf. „Du wirst nur noch Vergnügen mit deiner rechten Hand erleben. Jetzt entschuldige dich bei ihr und trage unser Gepäck.“

„Entschuldigung“, murmelte er in Richtung Mary. Blut tropfte aus seiner Nase. Du bist keine Fotze und keine Nutte.“ Der Aufzug machte Ping und die Tür öffnete sich im obersten Stockwerk.

„Gott, das war ja vielleicht geil“, stöhnte Mary und rieb sich an mir. Sie schob mich in den Flur und gegen eine Wand. Dann küsste sie mich leidenschaftlich. „Wie du ihm die Nase gebrochen hast!“ keuchte sie und schlang ihre Beine um mich. Mein Schwanz rutschte in ihre glitschige Möse.

Ihre Möse war tropfnass wegen des Spermas eines fremden Mannes. Das war ja vielleicht ein irres Gefühl, die Möse meiner Verlobten war schön glitschig, weil sie den Saft eines anderen drin hatte. Sie fickte mich hart und keuchte vor Lust. Es war erregend, nach einem anderen Mann in ihr zu sein. Das hier war meine Fotze und jemand anderer war darin gewesen. Ein anderer Mann hatte sich diese Möse genommen und sie mit seinem Saft vollgespritzt. Ich spürte, wie gierig ihre Fotze auf meinen Schwanz war. Und es war jetzt die richtige Zeit, meinen Besitzanspruch auf sie erneut anzumelden, sie als mein Eigentum zu markieren. Sie kam schnell auf meinem Schwanz und ich füllte sie mit meinem Sperma und wusch damit den anderen Saft aus ihr heraus.

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 9

The Devil’s Pact Side-Story: The Alukah Part 1-The Hunt

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Side-Story: The Alukah

Part 1: The Hunt

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2014


Story Codes: Female/Female, Hermaphrodite/Female, Mind Control, Magic, Incest, Oral, Vampirism

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. To contact me, you can leave a comment or email me at my_pen_name3000@hotmail.com, and you can contact my editor by email at dionysus40@prodigy.net.



Note: This takes place during Chapter 40, following Sam on her mission to Rennes-le-Château to study the Matmown in the Nun’s Motherhouse. Thanks to klimstit for inspiring me to write a vampire story.



Monday, September 30th, 2013 – Lilith – The Abyss

I spied on him from the shadows as he spoke to that slut wife of his, projecting my spirit from my Vessel resting safely in Seattle. I could not let Mark and Mary get their hands on a Matmown. They had grown too powerful today when they defeated Brandon; I needed the edge I gained by spying on them if I am going to have any chance of surviving long enough to realize my plans.

Samnag Soun needed to be stopped before she could discover the secrets of the Matmown.

I flashed back to Seattle, back to my body, and opened my eyes in my office – a richly appointed space full of expensive carpets, dark-wood furniture engraved with intricate designs, expensive statuettes and figurines carved of delicate crystals and veined marbles, incense sticks and scented candles that filled the air with sweet delights – and let the beauty of my surroundings relax me. My office almost matched the majesty of ancient Babylon. A train horn blared; the warehouse rumbled, spoiling my enjoyment. I hated this place; it was old, dusty, dilapidated—hardly a fit place for a Goddess, but it was the only building we had in Seattle that could house my children and followers unnoticed.

I just had to keep reminding myself it is only temporary. Soon, the city of Seattle would fall to my power; soon Tir’s plague would be ready and the Earth would be brought to its knees. I only needed to keep Mark at bay for a few more months. By the new year, Seattle, and then the world, would be wiped clean of the vermin—men. Only women would survive, transforming the world into a paradise.

Chantelle and Lana sat in chairs opposite my desk, patiently waiting. They were my two High Priestesses; the first to join my cause. The lesbians – opposites in every way; one was blonde and busty, the other dark-haired and slim – were holding hands, I saw with amusement. Love. What a weak, useless emotion, enslaving those it inflicted. I controlled my daughters with love just like I controlled these two fools.

In unison the pair slipped to the floor and paid me their homage.

“What did you see, my Goddess?” blonde Lana asked, her Slavic face worshipfully staring up at me.

The blonde was the more outgoing, the bolder of the duo—the more outspoken. Modern humans did not know how to show proper respect, particularly these Americans. This country bred insolence and arrogance into their children, and these character defects had rubbed off on an immigrant like Lana.

“Send for my daughter, Luka,” I commanded, ignoring her lapse; allowances had to be made…for now. “I have someone for her to kill.”

“At once, my Goddess,” Lana replied, smoothly rising and turning to leave.

I leaned back in my chair. The plush leather was so comfortable as it cushioned my body in heavenly softness. There was something to be said for the comforts of this age, even if its inhabitants left something to be desired.

A smile crossed my lips; Luka would be perfect for this task. Hopefully, she wouldn’t fail me like Di and Emi had. Irritation flashed like lightning; who knows when I would mother another Dimme, let alone twins.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Luka – Seattle, WA

“Luka, follow me,” Lana said peremptorily as I snuggled up to Mona, my birth mother.

Mom’s blood was salty on my lips as I nursed gently from the small punctures my teeth left on her breasts. Mom shook in ecstasy from my bite, her hands stroking my fiery-red hair as she fed me. Her blood was delicious, salty, life. I could feel that Mom was close to cumming, her moans soft, passionate, and I resented the intrusion.

“Why,” I demanded, regretfully pulling my lips from Mom’s delicious flesh. I could only feed off her once a week; more often would be too dangerous for her. As an Alukah I needed blood to survive, and Mom offered herself; such a loving, intimate gift.

“Our Goddess wants you,” Lana answered, furrowing her eyes.

I perked up. My True Mother needed me. Joy blossomed inside me; all the children of Lilith, myself included, had been so jealous of Di and Emi when they had been chosen for their special mission, and I was secretly delighted to hear that they had died. The more of my siblings that perished, the less competition there was for Mother’s love.

I followed the curvy blonde to Mother’s office. I could see the blood pumping beneath Lana’s skin. Warm, delicious blood, flowing through a beautiful spiderweb of arteries, capillaries, and veins. She positively glowed with life, pooling in her womb where her daughter grew. I wondered what Lana’s blood tasted like; I only ever got to taste my birth mother’s blood. Lana smelled different, spicier than Mom, and I bet her blood would have a zesty flavor.

I could take just a little nip; her neck was so inviting. I sighed. No, I couldn’t touch her. As much as I hated Lana – she thought she was so much better than me – she had mother’s favor. She was untouchable…for now.

I knelt when I entered my True Mother’s glorious presence, gazing up at her with awe and love. Mother was perfect, and her beauty always made me feel lacking; her flesh was flawless, and her blood pumped divinely through perfectly shaped blood vessels that painted a glorious picture of life and power beneath her skin. One day I hoped that she would let me taste her divine blood.

If I served her faithfully, I knew she would.

“You humble daughter is here to serve, Mother,” I said, and shuddered as she smiled at me.

Mother waved her hand and the image of a woman appeared. She was young, early twenties, with olive skin and a round face. Her eyes were dark, almond-shaped, revealing a Far East Asian origin. She had a serious look, almost a scholarly air about her. And it wasn’t just her appearance Mother conjured—I could smell her. The warm, salty flavor of her blood; the sour of her sweat; the spicy tang of her sex—all of it combined to give the woman a unique odor.

I looked questioningly at Mother.

“Samnag Soun,” Mother answered. “Vizier to him.” I knew from the heat in her voice just who ‘him’ referred to. The despicable Mark Glassner. “She is traveling to southern France, to a small town called Rennes-le-Château. Kill her.”

I licked my lips. “I am the instrument of your will, Mother.”

She bent down and kissed me on the lips; pleasure exploded in my pussy. I gasped and shuddered as the most intense, amazing orgasm burst through my body, leaving me nothing more than a twitching ball of sensation whipped by the winds of lust scouring my soul. When I regained my senses, I was lying on the floor and I picked myself up. Mother was reading over some papers; Lana and Chantelle – obviously caught up in Mother’s Lust – passionately writhed in an embrace on the carpets. Sensing I was dismissed, I withdrew quietly.

My birth mother Mona waited outside the office, and hugged me and wished me success and safety in my task. Together we walked up to the roof of the warehouse. “I love you, Luka,” she said, throwing her arms about my neck and kissing me on the lips.

“I love you too, Mom,” I told her as my red hair fanned out, forming into the wings that would carry me through the night sky.

Carrying me to my prey.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tuesday October 1st, 2013 – Sam Soun – New York City

“Now boarding British Air Flight 482 for London’s Heathrow Airport.”

That announcement sounded important, the rational, thinking part of my mind told me, but I was too tired to care. I didn’t sleep at all over the weekend – how could I when my very life rested on Mark and Mary overcoming Brandon’s seemingly insurmountable forces – and despite trying to sleep on the flight from Seattle to New York’s LaGuardia Airport, I couldn’t. Mary’s mysterious command plagued me.

We need you to do something that is very important, Mary had said to me last night. Go to the Motherhouse in Rennes-le-Château. In the basement you will find a room. Study it carefully. I need you to reconstruct it perfectly.

I was so curious. What was this mysterious room? Could it be a Matmown? The Magicks of the Witch of Endor spoke of something called ‘Hidden Rooms’—places that spiritual beings could not see into. Angels, Demons, Spirits. None of them could so much as enter one of these rooms, but the Book didn’t explain how to make one.

It seemed that while I waited for our flight to Toulouse, France – with a layover in London – I had fallen asleep on the uncomfortable, plastic chairs in the airport’s terminal. Someone was shaking my shoulder. Candy, my half-asleep mind realized; my lovely and vivacious toy.

“What,” I muttered in irritation.

“Our flight is boarding,” Candy urged. “C’mon, Sam.”

I groaned, “Fine.” I let Candy drag me to my feet.

Candy maneuvered me as I shuffled through the boarding procedures. Since we were in First Class, we got to board with the first group. The First Class tickets were expensive, but I wasn’t paying for the tickets, and Mark and Mary sure could afford to. They gave me a credit card months ago to use for any expenses I needed. The First Class seats were a little wider, a little roomier, a little easier to sleep on—a definitely needed expense.

The moment I buckled in I was dead to the world. I don’t even remember taking off. I woke up with my face pressed against the bulkhead, drool sticky on my cheek, and a blanket – one of those light, airline ones that are too thin to really do much of anything – bunched up on my right side. Candy smiled at me, and reached out to stroke my left thigh. My skirt had ridden up while I slept, almost exposing my naked pussy, and Candy’s fingers dipped in and took advantage of that. I stirred, enjoying her touch, as I looked at her. A grin was plastered on her cute face, framed by hair that was half-dyed cotton-candy blue and bubblegum pink. She was my toy, given to me by Mark in exchange for being their vizier. She was smart, feisty, funny; my right-hand woman.

“Good morning,” Candy purred. “Or, I should say good afternoon. Or evening? I’m not sure anymore. I think we have another six hours to go.”

My bladder felt full and my stomach rumbled. The lavatory took care of one and I bought a meal from the stewardess to take care of the other. It was an okay chicken salad with an oily dressing. Not enough vinegar, I thought, but I was famished and wolfed it down.

Candy giggled and bent over and licked me. “You had something on your chin.”

“Do I still have anything?” I asked, a smile playing on my lips.

Candy bent over and kissed me on the lips, slipping her tongue inside my mouth. “Nope, all clean.”

I was starting to feel a familiar itch in my crotch and one look at Candy’s face told me she felt the same. I grabbed the blanket from the floor and placed it over both of our laps. The grin on Candy’s face broadened, and her hand slip down to find my thigh and slid up my leg to my wet pussy. I shuddered in delight when her skillful fingers played with my damp nethers.

I returned the favor, sliding my hand up Candy’s miniskirt and found her sopping pussy. I smeared my fingers through her juices and brought them up to my lips, sucking each finger one by one. “Umm, I love to eat some sweet Candy,” I laughed.

“Why don’t you try some more?”

I slid my hands back between her thighs, stroking her vulva as Candy probed my pussy with two fingers, sliding them in and out achingly slow. I shuddered in pleasure on my toy’s digits, as I shoved three fingers up Candy’s twat; she raised up on her seat at the sudden intrusion, before relaxing and enjoying my finger-fuck.

Across the aisle, a sleeping man stirred and stretched suddenly. Candy and I kept fingering each other, trying to stay discreet. I bit my lip to stifle a moan as Candy started grinding the heel of her hand on my clit. Well, two could play at that, so I pulled my fingers out of her cunt and began pinching her button. She tossed her head back in pleasure, her pink-and-blue hair swaying wildly about her head.

Candy squeezed her eyes shut, her face turning red as she struggled not to cry out as her orgasm rippled through her. I bit my lip, silencing a moan as she writhed and sighed. Her orgasm was so powerful her stomach muscles contracted and she bent over, a low groan escaping her lips and sweat breaking out across her forehead.

“Are you okay, miss?” the man across the aisle asked in a British accent. “You look a little knackered.”

“I’m fine,” Candy panted.

“No you’re not,” I told her. “C’mon, let’s get you into the lavatory before you throw up.”

Candy gave me a confused look, but she was my slave and obeyed me, standing up. The man had a puzzled expression on his face. “She gets this way all the time,” I told him. “We might be in there for a little while. I know just what to do to make her feel better.”

Candy caught on and nodded, “She gives me what I need.”

“Yep, she needs her protein injection,” I stated. “She’s too chicken to stick the needle in herself, so she likes me to thrust it in her. You see, it has to be plunged deeply into her flesh for the injection to work.”

Candy almost giggled, clapping her hand over her mouth and vigorously nodding her head. “She makes the needle plunging into me feel so nice!”

We reached the two first class lavatories and entered the left one, locking it behind us. It was a typical airplane lavatory: stainless steel toilet, sink, and mirror; cramped for one person, let alone two. We made it work.

Candy reached down and lifted my skirt, exposing my neatly trimmed, black bush, and started playing with my clit. “You know just what I need, Sam,” Candy purred.

I concentrated on my clit, and it began to lengthen, widening, transforming into eight inches of hard iron—my very own cock. I learned how to do this from the Book – the Magicks of the Witch of Endor – and Candy was the first woman I ever fucked with it. We met at the Clam Diver, a lesbian club in Tacoma, and I fucked her with it on a love seat at the edge of the dance floor. Candy had been so impressed by the magic, that she offered to be my slave if I would teach it to her.

She loved every minute of being my slave and apprentice.

Once my clit had grown to its full length I purred, “Time for your injection!”

Giggling, Candy stroked me to full hardness. Her hand felt wonderful on my girl-cock, then she sat on the edge of the sink, parting her legs so I had access to her dripping cunt. “I’m ready to be pricked!”

We embraced and kissed as her hands eagerly guided me into her. I moaned; it felt wonderful to be inside my Sweet Candy again. My hips pumped fast; we couldn’t spend too much time in here before a stewardess got nosy. We shared a sloppy kiss with lots of tongue, moaning into each other’s mouths, as I fucked her hard. Her cunt was tight silk on my cock; I felt that urgent need to cum building in my ovaries, spurring me to fuck Candy faster.

“I love your cunt,” I hissed in Candy’s ear. “You’re a dirty, cock-loving whore, aren’t you?”

“Yes!” Candy panted. “A dirty, girl-cock loving whore! I love it when you fuck my mouth, fuck my cunt, and fuck my filthy ass! I love the taste of your cum. All thick and salty as it pumps in my mouth!”

I felt her fingers squeeze my ass, then reach lower, sliding between my legs. I thrust hard into her as her fingers invaded my cunt. Fuck, she was stroking the passion in my girl-parts and my boy-parts.

“You dirty whore!” I purred. “Finger me! I want to cum with both my pussy and my cock!”

Candy threw her head back, exposing her pale throat, and I couldn’t resist sucking hard at it. I loved leaving hickeys on her pale flesh. They were my marks of ownership—this slut was all mine! Just a few more thrusts and I would be flooding her cunt with my cum. I pounded on her harder and harder, then my ovaries were boiling over and my cock exploded. The pleasure was intense: the focused blast of a male orgasm and the wonderful waves of pleasure of a female orgasm all mixed together in a wonderful maelstrom of rapture.

“Yes, yes!” Candy groaned as she felt my cum jet into her cunt and my pussy juices flooded her hand. I pulled her face down and silenced her with a kiss, her cunt spasming on my cock as she came hard.

“Umm, that was delicious,” I purred, shrinking my clit. “Clean yourself up.”

Candy reached down and scooped up a big gob of my cum and sucked it into her lips. “That’s the best part!”

I chuckled as I slipped out. The British man asked how she was doing and I was about to tell him that she needed a few more minutes, when someone in the back of the plane began screaming. Wondering what could be going on, I made sure my gale bracelet was on my wrist as I started walking to the back of the plane. The bracelet, made of brass, could conjure a strong wind and throw an attacker away from me; one of many charmed objects I had come up with.

I debated grabbing one of my daggers. I had a pair of copper daggers in my carry-on bag stowed in the overhead compartment. They were useful against a supernatural opponent; carved with symbols that would allow the blades to harm spiritual flesh. I decided against grabbing the daggers; unless I saw an actual threat, it would only cause more problems for me to pull them out.

I was about to head into coach when a stewardess stopped me. “What’s going on?” I asked.

“A passenger thought she saw a woman out on the wing,” the stewardess explained.

“What, like that Twilight Zone episode?” One of my favorite episodes. “With the gremlin on the wing?”

The stewardess gave me a momentarily confused look, then, ignoring my comment, said, “It happens sometimes. When you mix sleeping pills, alcohol, and altitude it can cause all sorts of unanticipated reactions. If you could please take your seat, miss.”

I walked back to my seat and tried to peer out the window, straining to see the aircraft’s wing, but I was too far forward. “What are you doing, Sam?” Candy asked as she returned from the lavatory.

“Get my laptop,” I told her.

When we rushed out of the house on Saturday morning, one step ahead of Brandon’s forces, I had grabbed a bag I had prepared. I got the idea from some spy movie—a go bag. It contained anything I would need if I had to leave in a hurry: my copper daggers, a laptop which contained copies of my translations of the Magicks of the Witch of Endor, my enchanted perfume, the bracelet I wore around my wrist, and a few other handy items. Candy grabbed my laptop out of the overhead bin and I booted it up. There was a section in the book that described Lilith’s monstrous children.

The Children of Lilith could manifest in a myriad of different ways, and there were a few that could fly. For instance: a Zauba’a could take the form of whirlwind, the Pazuzu and the Lamassu had bird wings, the Th’uban was something that resembled a dragon, and the Alukah could fly using her hair. I read each entry carefully—the one about the Alukah jumped out. An Alukah looked perfectly human and was a type of vampire. Its bite imparted a narcotic effect on the victim, making them docile as the monster fed. Its hair could be shaped into wings or in other, useful ways. The gaze of an Alukah was hypnotic, making its victims docile or causing people to ignore its presence. The drunk were supposedly immune to this power.

My blood chilled as I shut down my laptop.

I tried in vain to see the wing again. Was there an Alukah perched on the airplane’s wing? Or was it just a drunk woman hallucinating? I chewed my lip. Maybe I was just being paranoid. Fuck, but what if I wasn’t? I could only hope that the Zimmah bond would protect us from an Alukah’s gaze.

No. Hoping is what Mark would do. I bet there was a way I could neutralize the gaze, and started my research.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Luka – London, England

Riding on the wing of an airplane was exhilarating.

After Mother sent me to kill Samnag Soun last night, I had flown south on wings made of my fiery-red hair. Young Crystal, one of Mother’s followers, called me Bayonetta when she saw me use my hair this way the first time. Bayonetta turned out to be a video game character, and Crystal got me hooked playing the game on her PS3. I reached Tacoma in a few minutes, swooping over the city, trying to isolate Sam’s scent through a city’s worth of humans.

When I found it, the trail led north back to Seattle. Hissing in frustration, I had to fly back the way I came. When I arrived at Boeing Field in southern Seattle, I had just missed her plane taking off, flying east. This was getting frustrating. I could fly fast, but I couldn’t fly quite as fast as a jet.

Doggedly I pursued, and the Country had passed as a blur beneath me as I followed the scent of the airplane through the skies. I had been lucky to arrive in New York City just in time, smelling Sam’s scent on a plane taxiing onto the runway. I landed on the wing, and used my hair to grip its leading edge while my gaze hypnotized any passenger that happened to looked out the window.

It had worked until that one lady got drunk and saw me.

Luckily, everyone just thought she was a hysteric woman. No-one else saw me for the rest of the flight and I enjoyed myself. The wind howled almost painfully, and exhilaratingly, past me, and we were up so high that if I had to breathe I would have been in trouble. The ocean was so blue as we passed over it. Once we flew above a thunderstorm; I watched in awe as lightning flashed and danced in the clouds below, a beautiful display of power that seemed for my eyes alone. When the sun set, the stars were so brilliant, twinkling down upon me. There were so many of them, more than I ever saw in Seattle.

By the time the plane began landing, I was feeling pretty weak. Feeding off my birth-mother once a week sustained me when I wasn’t exerting myself—when I didn’t fly halfway across the country and hitch a ride on an airplane. I could feel my thirst growing. I needed blood to survive, to fuel my powers. As the plane landed in a dreary city – London I think – I let go of the plane, swooping towards the airport’s terminal.

I could find someone to snack on in there.

I was overwhelmed when I snuck through a maintenance tunnel and entered the terminal proper. There were so many people; the smell of warm blood filled my nose. Everywhere I looked I could see veins and arteries, and all the beautiful blood pumping beneath their skin. Whom to drink from? Everywhere I looked was a feast.

I saw a flash of purple.

A girl wearing a gray hoodie and a gauzy, lilac skirt over black tights disappeared into a bathroom. Her hair, dyed purple, was shoulder length, framing a cute, round face. She was so enticing. I touched my sharp canines with my tongue and felt my nipples harden beneath my tight, red bodysuit; I took a page out of that video game and shaped the clothes from my hair. I followed the girl into the bathroom, smelling her warmth from the last stall.

I padded silently to the stall. The sharp, ammonia scent of urine filled my nostrils as I heard water splashing. The door was locked and the girl shouted “Occupied!” when I tried to open it. I leaped up and easily slid through the gap between the door and ceiling, then landed gracefully on my feet before her.

“Bloody hell!” the girl exclaimed in a melodic, British accent. “Why’d you go and do that?”

She sat on the toilet, her black tights and white panties bunched up around her ankles. I licked my lips and relaxed my hair. My clothing dissolved away, leaving me naked before the girl. All she could do was stare dumbfounded at me.

Finally, the girl collected her thoughts. “Clear off. I’m taking a piss, slag!”

I gazed at her; her eyes went wide and almost black as her pupils dilated. A shudder passed through her body and her lips curled with lust. She pulled off that gray hoodie, exposing a low cut, lilac blouse. I delighted to see the blood flooding her capillaries, giving a nice, red flush to her pale skin. She smelled delicious: warm blood, spicy cunt, acidic urine.

I had to taste her.

“Aren’t you tidy,” the girl purred, lost to the lust my gaze generated. “I could just dive right into that fanny and eat you all up!”

I turned, presenting my ass to the girl. I liked a good ass-licking and I was feeling horny. After she pleasured me, I could taste all the delights the girl’s body had to offer.

“Not your arse, I said your fanny!” she objected.

“My fanny is my ass,” I said in confusion.

“Bloody yanks! Your fish taco.” I only stared blankly at her over my shoulder. “Your cunt, stupid git.” I spun around and she knelt before me, her breath hot on my pussy. She took one, delicious lick of my pussy and I shuddered. “I love fish for supper,” she murmured before diving back in.

I leaned back against the door and let this girl devour my fanny; what a funny word for my pussy. Her tongue was agile, licking along my lips. Then she shoved her tongue deep into my hole, fucking my snatch like a small cock. My back arched and I writhed against the stall. I gripped the girl’s head and started humping my cunt into her lips.

“Um, yes, eat my cunt!” I moaned. “Delicious little slut!”

“Your fanny tastes bloody marvelous!” she purred.

“Don’t stop!” I hissed.

I groaned as she buried her wonderful tongue back into me. Her fingers started pinching my clit, sending wonderful pleasure radiating through my body. The girl moved her tongue up to my little pearl, rapidly flicking it as she slid a finger up inside me. Her finger hooked and curled, rubbing along the walls of my pussy, searching for just the right spot.

I exploded when she found it, my head banging back against the stall door, as an orgasm smashed through me. “Holy shit,” I muttered, panting heavily, gazing down at the girl who had a pleased look plastered on her face.

“Good one, huh,” she said proudly. “I’d fancy one myself.” Her blouse popped off and then her white bra, exposing a cute pair of breasts topped with dark nipples.

“Is everything all right in there?” someone asked from outside, banging on the stall door.

Irritation flashed through me and I opened it up to see a female janitor. “Close the bathroom,” I ordered as I gazed at her. “Let no-one in!”

“Yes,” she muttered in a daze. “The loo is closed.”

I pulled the girl out of the toilet as the janitor left the bathroom. I pushed my prey down and ripped her tights and panties off, leaving her naked save for her purple skirt bunched up around her waist. Her legs spread, and her fanny was shaved bare and glistened with lust. My fangs itched to sink into her pink flesh and taste her blood.

I fell on her, and she cooed in delight as I kissed her, biting her lips and enjoying the coppery blood. I kissed down her neck, feeling her pulse beating just beneath her skin. I itched to sink my fangs in and drink her heart’s blood, but that would attract too much attention. I kissed lower, down to her small breasts and sucked on her hard nipples, swirling my tongue around her nub.

“Suck my knockers!” the girl purred. “Give ’em a good suck!”

I could feel the blood flowing through her breasts and I sank my fangs into her perky flesh. I nursed at her tit, hungrily swallowing her coppery, delicious blood. It was so fresh, tasty, invigorating; the energy spread through my body, inflaming my lust. My prey writhed beneath me, moaning wordlessly; lost in the ultimate intimacy.

I was drinking her life, what could be more intimate?

“Shit that’s bloody amazing!” the girl moaned. “Ohh, what’re you doing to me!”

I left bloody kisses as I moved to her other breast. A second orgasm spasmed through her as I greedily drank her blood; my cheek rubbed against her hard nipple as I lapped the crimson oozing from her ivory flesh.

The scent of her pussy was intoxicating, beckoning to me. I slid down her body, nipping at her flat stomach, watching beads of dark blood blossoming across her pale flesh. I spread her thighs, her spicy scent filling my nose. Then I buried my face into her pussy, looking up at her body as her back arched in pleasure.

Was there anything more beautiful than crimson blood beading across white flesh?

“Um, suck on my fanny!” the girl moaned, kneading her bloody breasts. She was too lost to the lust my bite generated to feel the pain of all her tiny wounds. All she felt was the pleasure.

I nipped at her groin, watching a rivulet of blood run down and mix pink with her pussy juices. I dove in, lapping up the coppery, spicy flavor. I slid my tongue into her pussy, then up to brush her clit. This was so delicious.

“You bloody slag! Eat me! Devour me! I’m gonna cum! Oh shite, oh shite!”

Tasty juices and coppery blood flooded my mouth as she bucked against my face. My own pussy was on fire. I flipped around, straddling her face. Her tongue was rough as she lapped at my burning cunt, sending waves of pleasure through me as I bent down and nipped at her thigh, enjoying another flow of fresh blood. I was so intoxicated with her taste her tongue easily brought me to a powerful orgasm. I screamed into the meat of her silky thigh, her blood filling my lips; life and pleasure burst through me.

I formed new clothing, leaving my prey sprawled on the floor, her hand furiously rubbing her cunt as my bite’s lust still poured through her veins. Blood streaked her body, enhancing her natural beauty with vibrancy. She should live, I thought.

I felt more alive than ever as I slipped out of the bathroom. Never had my belly been so full of blood; a warmth that slowly grew and grew, spreading to every corner of my being. How great would I feel if I had drained every drop from the girl?

I shuddered just thinking about it.

I wiped the janitor’s memory, and stalked off, following the scent of Samnag Soun. I wouldn’t have to hold back with her. I would taste her blood, drinking in every last drop until her heart stopped beating—the blood stopped flowing. I would experience the rapture of draining a human dry.

For Mother.

To be continued…

Click here for Part 2.

Der Pakt mit dem Teufel Kapitel 7: Die Verabredung

 

 

Der Pakt mit dem Teufel

Kapitel 7: Die Verabredung

Von mypenname3000

Übersetzt von Horem

© Copyright 2013, 2014


Story Codes: Male/Female, Female/Female, Male/Female/Female, Mind Control, Exhibitionism, Group, Female Masturbation, First, Romance

Yes, this is in German. Horem graciously offered to translate the Devil’s Pact into German. 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 Kapitel 6



„Das mit der Verwechslung tut mir leid, Schwester Louise“, sagte die Frau am Check-In-Schalter am Flughafen O’Hare in Chicago. In ihrer Stimme klang Unglauben, wann immer sie das Wort „Schwester“ benutzte. Die Frau, sie hieß Nancy, glaubte nicht wirklich, dass ich eine Nonne war. Nun, das konnte ich ihr auch nicht übelnehmen, weil ich ein enges kobaltblaues Kleid anhatte, das kaum meinen Arsch bedeckte und das einen sehr tiefen Ausschnitt hatte. Ich trug Stilettos, die dafür sorgten, dass mein Arsch schön fest war und Strümpfe, die durch schwarze Strumpfhalter gehalten wurden, die unter dem Kleid hervorschauten. Mein goldenes Kruzifix lag in der Schlucht zwischen meinen Brüsten.

Seit dreißig Jahren war ich nun Schwester Louise Afra vom Orden der Schwestern der Maria Magdalena, die sich mit dem Kampf gegen die Macht der Dunkelheit beschäftigten. Um uns in unserer Mission zu unterstützen, waren meine Schwestern und ich von unserem Höchsten mit bestimmten Gaben ausgestattet worden. Eine dieser Gaben war jugendliche Schönheit. Ich war 51, hatte aber immer noch die festen Brüste, die weiche Haut, das frische Gesicht und den festen Arsch einer 18-Jährigen. Ich hatte die Gabe des Gesichts, welche es mir ermöglichte, die Zeichen des Bösen in Menschen zu erkennen und die Vorsehung Gottes würde mich lenken und leiten. So lange ich Vertrauen hatte, würde der Zufall mich unfehlbar zu meinem Ziel führen.

Meine Mission und der Zweck meines Ordens war, Hexer zu exorzieren und ihre Leibeigenen zu befreien. Hexer waren fehlgeleitete Männer und Frauen, die ihre Seelen dem Teufel verkauften, damit dieser ihnen drei Wünsche erfüllte. Je nachdem, was sie sich wünschten, konnten sie damit eine Menge Unheil anrichten. Die meisten Hexer, vor allen Dingen Männer, hatten Wünsche, die es ihnen erlaubten, andere zu dominieren und sie zu ihren Leibeigenen zu machen, in den meisten Fällen, um irgendwelche mitleiderregenden sexuellen Wünsche zu befriedigen. Die einzige Möglichkeit, einen Hexer zu stoppen, ohne ihn zu töten, war, ihn zu exorzieren. Und dazu dienten mein Kleid und die anderen Sachen, die ich in meinem Koffer hatte. Um einen Hexer zu exorzieren, musste ich ihn oder sie ficken, und wenn sie ihren Orgasmus hatten, konnte ich ihnen ihre Macht nehmen. Verführung war eines der Werkzeuge, das wir Nonnen benutzten.

Natürlich war es eine Todsünde, einen Mann ohne Trauschein zu ficken oder lesbischen Sex zu haben. Ich konnte zwar immer nach meiner Mission zur Beichte gehen und die Absolution erhalten, aber für meinen Orden war es wesentlich einfacher, einen päpstlichen Ablass zu erhalten. Nachdem ich also vor zwei Stunden in Ekstase geraten war, weil ich eine Mission erhalten hatte, war anschließend der päpstliche Ablass per Fax angekommen, unterzeichnet vom Papst persönlich. Mir wurden alle meine Sünden in Vorhinein vergeben, die ich begehen würde, bis meine Mission beendet war.

Und ich hatte vor, eine Menge zu sündigen!

Das war eine der Vergünstigungen, die man hatte, wenn man gegen das Böse kämpfte. Nachdem also meine Ekstase vorbei war, packte ich schnell meine Sachen. Ich wollte unbedingt sofort gegen das Böse kämpfen und endlich mal wieder so richtig hergenommen werden. Mit meinem Koffer in der Hand verließ ich das kleine Hausmeisterhaus bei St. Thomas und fand auch schnell ein Taxi. Einige würden das vielleicht Glück nennen, aber ich war mir sicher, dass hier schon die Vorsehung arbeitete. Bis meine Mission beendet war, würde mich der Herr zu denen führen, die mir helfen würden, bis ich endlich den Hexer traf. Als ich am Flughafen O‘Hare ankam, wusste ich immer noch nicht, wo meine Reise hingehen würde. Ich hatte aber die Zuversicht, dass Gott mich schon leiten würde, wenn ich nur zum Check-In-Schalter ging.

„Hier sind Ihre Tickets, Schwester“, sagte Nancy. Ich lächelte sie warm an und streichelte ihre Hand, als sie mir die Bordkarte gab. Sie riss ihre Hand zurück und schaute mich merkwürdig an. Sie war wahrscheinlich nicht daran gewöhnt, dass eine Frau, geschweige denn eine Nonne, mit ihr flirtete. „Der Systemfehler, tut mir leid“, sagte sie abweisend.

Ich seufzte und schaute auf die Tickets. Ich hatte noch eine Stunde Zeit, bis mein Flug ging. Und es wäre sicher sehr schön gewesen, diese Zeit mit Nancy zu verbringen, vielleicht auf der Toilette. Nachdem ich vor dreißig Jahren einmal drei Jahre lang im Harem eines Hexers gelebt hatte, hatte ich Spaß an Frauen gefunden. Die vielen unterschiedlichen Formen, die Brüste haben können oder die Kurven ihrer Hüften und ihrer Ärsche und all die unterschiedlichen Formen und Größen, die Schamlippen haben können! Ich leckte meine Lippen und dachte an die verschiedenen Düfte, die eine Frau aussendet, wenn sie erregt ist. Ich wurde nass, wenn ich nur daran dachte.

Ich schaute auf meine Tickets, um zu sehen, wo ich überhaupt hinflog. Ich hatte einen Direktflug zum Sea-Tac International Airport, der in 45 Minuten abfliegen und um 00:20 Uhr in Seattle landen sollte. Ich übte ein bisschen Kopfrechnen und fand, dass der Flug etwa viereinhalb Stunden dauern würde.

Sea-Tac, ich lächelte. Es war schon 12 Jahre her, dass ich auf einer Mission im Staate Washington gewesen war. Ich hatte diesen Hexer gestoppt, der von sich dachte, dass er ein Rock-and-Roller war. Der hatte seine Macht dafür benutzt, die Leute davon zu überzeugen, wie unglaublich er auf der Gitarre spielen konnte. Er hatte etwa ein Dutzend Frauen in seinem Harem. Ich hatte ihn exorziert und die Frauen gerettet. Eine von diesen Frauen hatte ich für den Orden gewinnen können. Ich dachte an Schwester Theodora Mariam, als ich durch die Sicherheitskontrolle ging.

Schwester Theodora war ein Wrack gewesen, nachdem ich sie befreit hatte. Der Hexer hatte sie sich von ihrem Mann scheiden lassen, den sie liebte und er hatte sie dazu gebracht, ihre drei Töchter zu verlassen. Sie musste anschließend sehr intensiv getröstet werden. Wir hatten zwei wundervolle Wochen an der Küste in Kalifornien verbracht und uns am Strand oder auch sonst überall, wo wir die Hände aneinander legen konnten, geliebt. Dann legte sie ihr Gelübde ab und mein päpstlicher Ablass lief aus.

Als ich in die Maschine stieg, war ich eine von drei Personen in der ersten Klasse. Die anderen beiden waren ausgefranste Geschäftsleute, die beide schnell einschliefen, nachdem wir gestartet waren. Die Stewardess in der ersten Klasse war eine dunkle Schönheit namens Sarai. Sie trug eine langärmlige weiße Bluse und eine marineblaue Weste, die von ihren Titten hübsch ausgefüllt wurden. Ein marineblauer Bleistiftrock lebte an ihren Hüften und an ihren Beinen. Ihr Gesicht hatte eine exotische Schönheit an sich und ihr Akzent klang sehr musikalisch. Als sie mir meinen Champagner gab, ließ sie ihre Finger eine kurze Weile an meinem Handgelenk. Sie entzündete ein Feuer in mir, das in meinem Körper nach unten lief und meinen Atem beschleunigte.

Ich lächelte sie verführerisch an. „Ich bin Schwester Louise“, schnurrte ich.

„Ich heiße Sarai“, gab sie zur Antwort. „Wenn Sie etwas wünschen, dann sagen Sie es mir bitte sofort. Es ist meine Aufgabe, jedes Ihrer Bedürfnisse zu befriedigen.“

Nachdem wir unsere Flughöhe erreicht hatten, brachte Sarai mir eine zweit Sektflöte mit Champagner und sie setzte sich in die gleiche Sitzreihe wie ich auf der anderen Seite des Ganges.. Sie hatte auch eine Sektflöte in der Hand und hielt einen Finger an ihre Lippen. „Schsch, das ist unser kleines Geheimnis.“

„Ich bin sicher, dass du dir das verdient hast“, flirtete ich zurück und blinzelte ihr zu.

„Keine Ahnung“, seufzte sie. Sie rieb sich einen ihrer Füße. „Aber es ist das Risiko wert, wenn man so nette Leute trifft.“

„Da möchte ich wetten“, sagte ich und schaute mich um. Dann lehnte ich mich über den Gang und zog ihr den Schuh aus und fing an, ihr den Fuß zu massieren. Sarai bewegte sich in ihrem Sitz und drehte sich, so dass ihre Füße über die Armlehne baumelten.

„Hmmm, das ist schön“, schnurrte Sarai. „Sind Sie beruflich unterwegs nach Seattle und geht es um ihr Vergnügen?“

„Beides“, antwortete ich. „Ich bin Nonne, eine Schwester der Magdaleniten. Ich habe in Seattle etwas zu erledigen, aber ich hoffe, dass ich auch etwas von den Freuden des Nordwesten erleben kann.“

Sarai schien verwirrt zu sein. „Eine Nonne? Das hatte ich nicht erwartet.“ Sie war sicher nicht daran gewöhnt, dass sie ständig Nonnen traf, aber sie entspannte sich wieder, als ich fortfuhr, ihren Fuß zu massieren. Ich beugte mich weiter zu ihr hin und gab vor, dass ich so besser an ihren Fuß herankam. In Wirklichkeit wollte ich ihr mehr von meinem Dekolletee zeigen.

„Mein Orden ist ziemlich unorthodox“, sagte ich und wechselte zu ihrem anderen Fuß. Ihre Beine spreizten sich ein wenig und ich konnte kurz ihr Höschen aufblitzen sehen. Ein Leopardenmuster. Verdorbenes Mädchen!

„Ich bin Muslim“, sagte Sarai. „Deswegen habe ich keine große Erfahrung mit Nonnen.“

„Ich habe mich immer gefragt, gibt es eigentlich wirklich einen Mile-High-Club?“ fragte ich und fuhr mit meiner Massage fort. „Ich meine, hast du jemals von Leuten gehört…, du weißt schon… auf den Toiletten?“

Sarai kicherte. Sie war ein klein wenig beschwipst vom Champagner. „Manchmal passiert das tatsächlich. Wir versuchen, das Ganze diskret zu behandeln. Wenn man an die Tür klopft, dann beunruhigt das die Leute normalerweise so sehr, dass sie schnell wieder herauskommen.“

„Hast du es auch schon mal gemacht?“

In ihren Augen war ein verdorbenes Blinzeln. „Vielleicht…“

„Oh, du verdorbenes Mädchen! Du hast es schon gemacht!“ flüsterte ich aufgeregt. Aber sie zuckte nur mit den Schultern. Ich ließ ihren Fuß los und trank den Rest meines Champagners. „Ich muss mal schnell zur Toilette.“

Sarai lächelte warm und trank auch ihren letzten Champagner.

Ich stand auf, nahm mir meine Tasche und stolperte ein wenig, als das Flugzeug in Turbulenzen kam. Ich kam zur Toilette in der ersten Klasse und schlüpfte hinein. Ich erledigte schnell mein Geschäft, wusch mir die Hände und überprüfte mein Makeup im Spiegel. Mein Gesicht war rund und ich hatte graue Augen und dicke Lippen, die geradezu danach schrien, geküsst zu werden. Ich frischte meinen roten Lippenstift auf und rückte meine Titten zurecht, damit sie sichtbarer waren und dann öffnete ich die Tür. Ich wollte schnell mit Sarai weiter flirten.

Sie stand vor der Tür und wartete auf mich. Sie hatte einen hungrigen Gesichtsausdruck.

Ich zog sie in die Toilette und küsste sie wild. Seit meiner letzten Mission waren drei Jahre vergangen. Drei Jahre heimlicher Masturbation in Erinnerung an vergangene Liebhaber. Ich war bereit für ein paar neue Erinnerungen, die mich durch meine nächste Periode begleiten konnten. Sarais Zunge war heiß und geschickt, als sie in meinen Mund eindrang. Sie schob mich gegen die Wand und zog meinen Rock hoch. Meine Strumpfhalter und der lockige Busch hellbraunes Haar waren sichtbar.

„Bist du wirklich eine Nonne“ fragte Sarai und fuhr mit einem Finger langsam durch meine Vulva. Sie rieb meinen Kitzler und ich erzitterte vor Lust. „Ich meine, was für eine Nonne hat denn kein Höschen an?“

„Oh ja, ich bin wirklich eine Nonne“, stöhnte ich. „Aber wir sind auch Menschen. Auch wir haben Bedürfnisse.“

Ich fing ihre Lippen in einem weiteren leidenschaftlichen Kuss ein. Ihr Finger beschrieb kleine Kreise an meinem Kitzler. „Aber wie kannst du schwul sein und gleichzeitig Nonne?“ fragte sie. Elektrische Schläge fuhren durch meinen Körper.

„Jede von uns dient dem Herrn auf ihre Weise“, keuchte ich. „Wir haben alle unsere Sünden, mit denen wir kämpfen und Kreuze, die wir tragen müssen. Oh verdammt, du machst mich fertig, du geile kleine Schlampe!“

Sarai küsste meine Lippen und erstickte so meine Schreie, als es mir auf ihren Fingern kam. Verdammt, das war gut! Es war schon viel zu lange her gewesen! „Du bist eine böse Nonne, nicht wahr?“ zischte Sarai. Sie leckte an ihren Fingern und hielt sie dann auch mir hin. Ich nahm sie in den Mund und schmeckte mich. „Eine verdorbene Nonne, die gerne sündigt.“

„Ja! Fickst du deine Passagiere immer auf der Toilette?“ fragte ich sie.

„Nur die wunderschönen“, sagte sie und fing an, ihre Weste aufzuknöpfen. Ihre Bluse folgte und fiel auf den Boden. Ich sah jetzt ihren BH, der vorne seine Schließe hatte. Der BH passte zu ihrem Höschen, das ich vorher unter ihrem Rock gesehen hatte. Ich streckte meine Hand aus und befreite ihre Titten. Sie waren rund und sehr voll, also rieb ich mein Gesicht dazwischen und genoss ihre seidige Haut. Ich fand einen ihrer dunklen harten Nippel und saugte ihn in meinen Mund. „Mmmm, das ist schön“, stöhnte Sarai.

Ich küsste an ihrem Bauch nach unten und sie kicherte, als ich meine Zunge in ihren süßen Bauchnabel steckte. Meine Hände rutschten an ihren Hüften nach unten und hoben dann ihren Rock an. Ihr Höschen mit dem Leopardenaufdruck war von ihrer Erregung ganz nass. Es saß so knapp, dass ich ihre Schamlippen gut sehen konnte. Ich atmete ihre Erregung ein. Ein berauschender Duft nach Moschus. Ich hakte meine Finger in das Bündchen ihres Höschens und zog es langsam herunter. Ihre Muschi war glattrasiert und sie glänzte vor klebrigen Säften. Einen ganz kurzen Moment bildete sich ein Faden zwischen ihren Schamlippen und ihrem Höschen, dann zerriss er. Ihre Muschi war wundervoll, ihr Kitzler wart hart und pulsierte. Ihre Vulva war rot vor Lust.

Lieber Gott, danke für diesen Überfluss, betete ich still. Dann tat ich mich an ihrer Weiblichkeit gütlich. Meine Zunge glitt in ihren engen Schlitz und traf auf Widerstand.

„Du bist ja noch Jungfrau“, keuchte ich erstaunt.

„Ein liebes Muslim-Mädchen spart sich für die Hochzeit auf“, antwortete Sarai mechanisch.

„Und Allah hat kein Problem damit, dass man eine andere Frau fingert?“ fragte ich.

„Kein größeres als das, was Jesus damit hat, dass man eine andere Frau leckt.“ Die kleine Schnalle hatte mich erwischt.

Ich fand es sehr erregend, einer Jungfrau die Fotze auszulecken, obwohl sie nur rein technisch noch Jungfrau war. Ich konnte sie mit meiner Zunge nicht so tief in die Fotze ficken, wie ich das eigentlich wollte, also gab ich mich damit zufrieden, ihre Schamlippen abzulecken und ihr würziges Aroma in mich aufzunehmen. Mein Daumen fand ihren harten kleinen Kitzler und rieb ihn feste in kleinen Kreisen. Sarai stöhnte und drückte sich gegen mich. Ihre Titten hoben und senkten sich vor Erregung.

„Oh ja“, stöhnte Sarai leise. „Lecke meine Fotze. Deine Zunge fühlt sich an meiner Fotze so toll an!“ Sie keuchte und als sie sich ihrem Orgasmus näherte, verlor sie ihr Englisch und sang auf Arabisch: „Elhas Kussi! Elhass kussi! Sharmoota elhas kussi!“ Ihr würziger Saft floss in meinen Mund und mein ganzes Gesicht war von ihrer Lust bedeckt. Sie keuchte mit geschlossenen Augen und dann flüsterte sie: „Danke! Das war toll!“

Ich lächelte, als ich aufstand und sie küsste. Sie leckte gierig ihren Saft von meinem Gesicht ab. Gott hatte mir eine Jungfrau beschert und ich wollte mir jetzt gerne meine Belohnung nehmen. Ich griff in meine Tasche. Sie sah mir neugierig zu, als ich ein wenig herumwühlte und dann einen kleinen purpurfarbenen Dildo und das Umschnall-Geschirr herausholte. Auf ihrem Gesicht erschien ein wenig Angst und sie trat von mir zurück, als ich den Umschnall-Dildo an meinen schlanken Beinen nach oben zog.

„Wir sollten jetzt gehen“, sagte Sarai und leckte sich nervös ihre Lippen. „Die anderen Passagiere werden vielleicht gleich wach.“

Ich zog die Bändel an und stellte sicher, dass der Dildo sich an meinem harten Kitzler rieb. Dann lächelte ich sie hungrig an. „Hast du nicht gesagt, dass du da bist, um mich zu befriedigen?“

„Bitte, Miss!“ Sarai wich noch weiter zurück und stieß gegen die Tür.

Ich griff hinter meinen Hals und öffnete den Verschluss meines Korsetts. Der Stoff fiel herunter und zeigte meine festen kleinen Brüste. Sarai schluckte und starrte voller Lust auf meine harten Nippel. Ich machte einen Schritt nach vorne und Sarai zuckte zusammen, als der Dildo ihren Bauch berührte. Ein weiterer Schritt und unsere Brüste berührten sich. Blasse Titten küssten dunkle Brüste.

„Willst du nicht langsam damit aufhören, ein liebes Muslim-Mädchen zu sein?“ fragte ich und beugte mich vor, um sie zu küssen. „Möchtest du nicht lieber böse sein?“

„Ich- ich“, stotterte sie.

Ich steckte den Dildo zwischen ihre Beine und rieb damit an ihrer glitschigen Möse. „Möchtest du nicht all das Vergnügen erleben, das Allah dir gegeben hat?“ Ich küsste ihren Hals und schob den Dildo nach oben und in ihre Muschi. Vorsichtig drückte ich gegen ihr Häutchen. „Deine Muschi ist zum Ficken da. Glaub mir, es fühlt sich unglaublich an, wenn ein hartes Teil dich ausfüllt.“ Ich leckte ihr Ohr und flüsterte: „Macht es dich nicht nass, wenn du daran denkst, wie mein Dildo dich fickt?“

Sie schüttelte den Kopf und versuchte, sie von meinem eindringenden Dildo zu entfernen.

„Gib ruhig zu, dass du möchtest, dass eine wunderschöne Frau deine Jungfernschaft nimmt. Dass sie dich zu einer dreckigen verdorbenen lesbischen Hure macht!“

Sie schaute mich an und Tränen standen in ihren Augen. „Allah, vergib mir“, flüsterte sie und dann nickte sie.

„Sag es!“ zischte ich. „Sag mir, dass ich dich zu einer lesbischen Hure machen soll!“

„Bitte“, flüsterte sie rau. „Bitte, fick meine jungfräuliche Fotze! Bitte mach mich zu deiner lesbischen Hure!“

Sie keuchte, als ich das harte Stück Plastik durch ihr Häutchen stieß. Der Dildo rieb sich so richtig schön an meinem Kitzler. Ich fickte Sarai hart und schnell und sie stöhnte in mein Ohr. Die Tür klapperte wegen unserer Bewegungen beim Ficken. Direkt vor der Tür schliefen zwei Männer. Sie konnten jeden Moment wach werden. Oder eine andere Stewardess konnte kommen und uns entdecken oder sogar der Pilot. Wir konnten jeden Moment entdeckt werden, und das machte den Sex noch geiler.

„Oh verdammt“, keuchte Sarai laut. „Fick meine Muschi. Oh, das fühlt sich so geil an!“

„Wenn du weiter so laut bist, dann wird uns noch jemand hören“, flüsterte ich in ihr Ohr, während ich sie fickte. „Es sei denn, du willst gerne erwischt werden. Vielleicht willst du der Welt ja zeigen, dass du ein versautes kleines Muslim-Mädchen bist. Eine verdorbene dreckigen kleine lesbische Hure.“

„Ja!“ zischte sie und sie schüttelte sich, als es ihr auf dem Dildo kam. „Ich bin eine dreckige lesbische Hure. Ich liebe es, an Titten zu lutschen und Fotzen auszulecken!“

Wir fickten eine Stunde lang in der Toilette. Ich fickte sie, während sie sich über die Toilette beugte, dann zog sie den Umschnall-Dildo an und setzte sich auf die Schüssel und ich ritt sie hart, während sie mir an den Titten lutschte. Dann fickte sie mich in den Arsch und ich hatte einen Wahnsinnsorgasmus. Schließlich waren wir beide befriedigt. Wir zogen uns wieder an, machten uns sauber und schlüpften aus der Toilette heraus. Die anderen beiden Passagiere der ersten Klasse schliefen noch fest und schnarchten laut. Wir setzten uns in zwei nebeneinander liegende Sitze und schmusten während des gesamten weiteren Fluges miteinander. Dabei fingerten wir uns mehrfach zu Orgasmen. Wir versuchten dabei beide, möglichst leise zu bleiben. Gottseidank waren die beiden Männer regelrechte Tiefschläfer.

„Meine Damen und Herren, wir beginnen jetzt unseren Landeanflug auf Sea-Tac International“, kündigte der Pilot über die Sprechanlage an. „Bitte bringen sie Ihre Rückenlehne wieder in die senkrechte Position und schließen Sie ihre Sicherheitsgurte.“

Sarai stand auf und weckte die beiden Männer. Sie prüfte, ob sie ihre Sicherheitsgurte trugen. Als sie wieder zu mir kam, griff sie nach unten und glitt mit ihrer Hand in mein Oberteil. Sie drückte einen Moment meine Brust. Dann sagte sie in einem professionellen Tonfall: „Miss, bitte schließen Sie ihren Sicherheitsgurt.“ Als sie meine Brust wieder verließ, hatte sie eine Visitenkarte des Sea-Tec Holiday Inn zwischen meinen Brüsten hinterlassen. Auf der Rückseite stand: „Ich habe 48 Stunden Aufenthalt. Wenn du noch ein bisschen Spaß suchst, dann fragte an der Rezeption nach mir, Sarai.“

Ich lächelte in mich hinein. Die Vorsehung hatte den nächsten Schritt meiner Reise bereitet und es würde ein sehr angenehmer werden.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ich wurde wach und Licht strömte durch die Fenster und die gläserne Schiebetür. Ich griff nach Mary, aber ihre Seite des Bettes war leer. Ich setzet mich auf und schaute mich um. Ich war im Schlafzimmer des Hauses, das ich von Brendon Fitzsimmons „geborgt“ hatte. Ich hatte mir außerdem seine Frau „geborgt“, eine geile Latina mit Namen Desiree und hatte sie zu meiner zweiten Sklavin gemacht. Ich rieb mir den Schlaf aus den Augen. Es war schon spät gewesen, als ich endlich versucht hatte einzuschlafen, schon nach drei in der Früh. Ich schaute auf die Uhr. Es war 07:43. Verdammt, das ist noch ziemlich früh, dachte ich und wollte noch einmal einschlafen, aber meine Gedanken gingen zur vergangenen Nacht zurück.

Als Mary und ich in der vergangenen Nacht zurückgekommen waren, war es beinahe ein Uhr früh gewesen. Wir waren ins Bett gegangen und hatten darüber gesprochen, was passiert war. Mary hatte ihren Pakt mit dem Teufel gemacht, genauso wie ich einige Tage zuvor. Und dann hatte mir der Teufel diesen roten Kristall gegeben, der von innen her leuchtete. Er hatte mir gesagt, dass ich dann, wenn ich in Schwierigkeiten steckte, diesen Kristall hochhalten und „Lilith, erscheine vor mir“ sagen sollte. Mein Bauch verkrampfte sich. Warum würde ich das Ding brauchen? Mary hatte meine Furcht gespürt und so unterhielten wir uns und theoretisierten darüber, was der Teufel wohl gemeint haben mochte. Was für eine Gefahr lag wohl vor uns? Und wer oder was war eigentlich Lilith?

„Der Name kommt mir bekannt vor“, sagte Mary und schmiegte sich nackt an mich. „Ich glaube, er stammt aus Vampir: Die Maskerade.“

„Warte mal, was?“ sagte ich und starrte sie ungläubig an. „Hast du das gespielt?“

Mary lachte. „Ja, in meiner Highschool habe ich mal ein halbes Jahr total auf diese Geschichten gestanden. Und in dieser Zeit habe ich in so einem Rollenspiel mitgemacht. Ich war die Vampirin Vanessa.“

„Wow“, sagte ich. „Du hast bei einem Rollenspiel mitgemacht.“

„Ja“, sagte sie. Sie klang ein wenig verlegen. „Eigentlich haben wir nur rumgehangen und die furchtbarsten schwarzen Klamotten angehabt und zu viel schwarzes Makeup getragen. Ich habe mit meiner blassen Haut ausgesehen wie eine Leiche. Ich denke zwar, dass es darauf wohl ankam, aber so richtig toll fand ich das eigentlich nicht.“

„Ich weiß nicht“, sagte ich. „Ich möchte wetten, dass du als Goth richtig sexy gewesen sein musst.“ Ich stellte mir Mary vor. Ein schwarzes Kleid stellte sicher einen starken Kontrast zu ihrer hellen Haut dar. Und dann schwarzer Lippenstift.

„Wie auch immer“, sagte sie. „Ich bin ziemlich sicher, dass Lilith die Mutter der Monster war, oder so etwas Ähnliches. Irgend so ein Dämon. Da gibt es auch einen Kult dazu.“

Ich holte mein Smartphone heraus und googelte Lilith. Ich las den Eintrag bei Wikipedia. „Sie war eine kanaanitische Göttin und nach der jüdischen Mythologie war sie Adams erste Frau. Sie hat sich aber geweigert, seiner Autorität zu unterwerfen, deshalb ließ er sich scheiden und hat dann Eva geheiratet.“

„Gut für sie“, sagte Mary.

Der Punkt, dass ich ursprünglich meine Macht benutzt hatte, um Mary zu kontrollieren, war immer noch da, also ging ich auf Marys Bemerkung nicht ein. Ich las weiter. „Dann wurde sie die Mutter der Monster und ein Succubus.“

„Habe ich doch gesagt“, sagte Mary.

„Entschuldigung, ich wollte mich nur nicht allein auf Vampir: Die Maskerade allein verlassen“, entschuldigte ich mich.

„Wikipedia.“

„Ist aber ziemlich verlässlich“, sagte ich abwehrend. „Okay, es tut mir leid, ich habe dir nicht geglaubt.“

„Gut“, sagte sie. Sie nickte und lächelte. „So lange du nicht vergisst, dass ich immer recht habe, wird alles gut laufen Mark.“

Ich war klug genug, das nicht zu diskutieren. „Warum also sollte ich die Hilfe der Mutter der Monster brauchen?“ fragte ich und wechselte das Thema.

Sie zog sie Augenbrauen kraus. „Keine Ahnung. Vielleicht…“

Wir redeten noch eine Weile weiter und drehten uns im Kreis mit Theorien und Spekulationen. Am Ende gaben wir es auf und ich versprach, den Kristall in jedem Fall immer bei mir zu tragen, nur für den Fall. Mary kuschelte sich an mich und schlief schnell ein. Und es stellte sich heraus, dass sie schnarchte. Es war aber ganz leise und irgendwie süß. Und während ich mich noch mit meinen dunklen Gedanken herumquälte, fand ich ihr Schnarchen irgendwie… beruhigend. Ich war nicht allein in der Dunkelheit. Mary war bei mir und sie würde mir beistehen, welche Gefahr der Teufel auch immer für mich in der Zukunft sah.

Als ich endlich einschlief, war es ein leichter Schlaf. Ich hatte Albträume. Ich war von schattenartigen Monstern umringt und hielt meinen roten Kristall in der Hand. Mary war hinter mir und ich versuchte, sie zu beschützen. Ich sagte dann die Worte „Lilith erscheine vor mir“, aber nichts passierte. Die Monster kamen immer näher und ich wachte schweißgebadet auf. Mary war immer noch an mich angekuschelt, als ob sie mich in ihrem Schlaf beruhigen wollte. Ich glitt wieder zurück in das Land der Träume und hatte denselben Traum.

Ich versuchte, meine Sorgen zu ignorieren und wieder einzuschlafen, aber es war zu hell und meine Blase war zu voll, also stolperte ich in das Bad. Auf meinem Weg sah ich Mary auf dem Balkon. Stand da eine Staffelei vor ihr? Ich musste zu dringend pinkeln, um mich darum sofort kümmern zu können und stolperte weiter. Ich legte einen Arm an die Wand und fing an zu pissen, dabei hoffte ich, dass ich die Schüssel traf. Ich war einfach zu müde zum Zielen. Nachdem ich gepisst hatte, fummelte ich an den Hähnen der Dusche herum. Eine heiße Dusche half mir immer dabei, wach zu werden.

Ich lehnte mich an die geflieste Wand und ließ das warme Wasser über mich rauschen. Nach ein paar Minuten fühlte ich mich schließlich lebendig. Ich nahm die Seife und wusch meinen Körper und schamponierte mein Haar. Ich verließ die Dusche und rasierte und kämmte mich. Ich spritzte ein würziges After Shave in mein Gesicht, das Mary mir gekauft hatte und zischte mir ein Deodorant unter die Achseln.

Gestern hatten Desiree und Allison alle Kleidungsstücke von Desiree und ihrem Mann aus dem Schlafzimmer entfernt. Außerdem gab es auch keine anderen persönlichen Gegenstände mehr. Stattdessen hatten sie Marys und meine Sachen dort untergebracht. Ich fand eine saubere Boxershorts und ein Polohemd. Ich zog mich an, nahm mein Telefon und schickte Allison eine SMS, bevor ich auf den Balkon des Schlafzimmers ging, um zu sehen, was Mary machte.

Mary stand vor einer Staffelei mit einer großen Leinwand. Sie hatte einen Pinsel in der einen Hand und eine Palette in der anderen. Sie hatte eines meiner weißen Hemden an, dass ihr bis zur Mitte ihrer Oberschenkel reichte. Ihr rotbraunes Haar hatte sie in einem Pferdeschwanz zusammengebunden, der ihr an ihrem Rücken herunter fiel. Ihre Beine waren lang und schön und sie war barfuß. Sie hatte kleine Füße und süße Zehen. Sie schien den Mount Rainier zu malen, während die Sonne über ihm aufging.

„Hey, Mare“, begrüßte ich sie. Ich setzte mich auf einen Sessel und bewunderte die Bewegungen ihres geschwungenen Arsches unter meinem Hemd, während sie malte. „Sieht schön aus.“

„Guten Morgen, Liebling“, sagte Mary und schaute mich nicht einmal an. Sie war zu sehr auf ihr Gemälde fixiert.

„Malst du den Berg?“ fragte ich. Mein Gott, was für eine blöde Frage! „Sieht richtig schön aus.“

„Danke“, sagte sie abwesend.

„Irgendwelche Pläne für heute?“ fragte ich sie.

Sie schüttelte den Kopf. Nein, nicht wirklich. Woran hast du denn gedacht?“

Ich wollte anfangen zu sprechen, als jemand an die Schlafzimmertür klopfte. „Komm rein, Allison“, rief ich.

Allison kam ins Zimmer. Sie hatte ein sexy französisches Zofen-Outfit an, das sie gestern gekauft hatte. Das Leibchen war aus einem durchsichtigen schwarzen Material, durch das man ihre gepiercten Nippel und die Stecker in ihren Nippeln sehen konnte. Der Rock bestand aus mehreren Lagen aus weißen Petticoats, die von einem schwarzen Spitzenstoff bedeckt waren. Der Rock war kurz und bedeckte kaum ihren Arsch, wenn sie gerade stand und wenn sie sich vorbeugte, konnte man ihren Arsch und ihre Muschi sehen.

„Guten Morgen Meister, guten Morgen Herrin“, sagte Allison höflich, als sie auf den Balkon kam.

„Guten Morgen Schlampe“, sagte Mary. Sie konzentrierte sich immer noch auf das Gemälde.

„Hast du alles erledigt, was ich dir aufgetragen habe?“ fragte ich. Gestern hatte ich ihr mehrere SMS geschickt, während Mary und ich einkaufen waren.

„Ja, Meister, ich habe alle Reservierungen gemacht und das GPS programmiert“, antwortete Allison.

„Gute Schlampe“, lobte ich sie und zog meinen Schwanz heraus. Allison kniete sich vor mir hin und saugte meinen Schwanz in ihren warmen Mund.

„Was hat sie denn erledigt?“ fragte Mary neugierig und drehte ihren Kopf über ihre Schulter, Sie schüttelte amüsiert ihren Kopf, als sie sah, dass Allison mir einen blies.

Allison war ein Profi bei Blowjobs. Sie hatte ein Zungenpiercing und der Metallstecker war ein Punkt, an dem der Druck schön fest war, wenn sie mit ihm über meinen Schwanz fuhr. „Eine Orca-Tour“, antwortete ich. „Dann Abendessen in Seattle in der Space Needle. Wenn du möchtest?“

„Du lädst mich ein, während du dir von irgendeiner Schlampe den Schwanz blasen lässt?“

„Genau!“ stöhnte ich, als Allison anfing, ihren Kopf auf meinem Schwanz auf und ab zu bewegen. Ich fuhr mit meiner Hand durch ihr Haar.

„Okay, klingt gut“, sagte Mary. „Wann geht es los?“

Ich schaute auf Allison herunter. „Na, Schlampe?“

Allison ließ ihren Mund von meinem Schwanz rutschen. „Ihr müsst etwa in neunzig Minuten abfahren“, antwortete sie und nahm dann meinen Schwanz wieder in den Mund.

„Nun, dann muss ich mich wohl fertig machen“, sagte Mary. „Schlampe, wenn du mir Mark fertig bist, dann mach hier sauber und bring alles in das Studio.“

Allison stöhnte um meinen Schwanz, was man als „Ja, Herrin“ interpretieren konnte.

Mary beugte sich vor und küsste mich auf die Lippen. „Viel Spaß noch“, sagte sie lächelnd. Sie streichelte Allisons Haar und ging nach innen. Ich folgte ihren Arsch mit meinen Augen und genoss den Schwung ihrer Hüften, bis sie im Bad verschwand. Ich schloss meine Augen und genoss dann Allisons nassen Mund und ihre Zunge an meinem Schwanz. Sie bewegte jetzt ihren Kopf schnell auf meinem Schwanz auf und ab und meine empfindliche Eichel stieß wiederholt gegen ihre Kehle. Meine Eier zogen sich zusammen und ich kam in ihrem Mund.

„Danke Meister für dein leckeres Sperma“, sagte Allison. Sperma war auch auf ihren Lippen. Sie leckte langsam über meine pilzförmige Eichel und entfernte dort die letzten Reste meines Orgasmus. Dann schloss sie meine Hose wieder.

Ich ging nach unten und hörte Desiree in der Küche. Sie war eine erstaunliche Köchin und ich fragte mich, was für leckere Sachen sie gerade zum Frühstück zubereitete. Mein Bauch grollte. Er war offenbar genauso gespannt wie ich auch. Ich war immer noch zu müde, um irgendetwas Produktives zu tun, also schaltete ich den Fernseher ein und sah ein verschwommenes Schwarzweiß-Bild meines Gesichtes in einer Überwachungskamera.

„Ach du Scheiße!“ sagte ich zu mir selber und drehte den Ton lauter.

„Die Behörden bitten um Ihre Mithilfe, um diesen Mann zu identifizieren“, sagte der Nachrichtensprecher. „Er wird im Zusammenhang mit einer ganzen Reihe von merkwürdigen Dingen gesucht, die sich am Donnerstag im South Hill Best Buy ereignet haben. Außerdem geht es um einen Einbruch bei einem Juwelier in einer lokalen Mall, sowie um einige andere Dinge. Augenzeugen haben ihn in Begleitung von zwei jungen Frauen gesehen, von denen eine rotbraunes Haar und die andere rosafarbenes Haar hat. Bitte geben sie Ihre Hinweise an das nächstgelegene Polizeirevier.“

Wow, da hatte ich wohl doch mehr Aufruhr erzeugt, als ich gedacht hatte. Nun, ich hatte im Best Buy eine Orgie angezettelt. Konnte das die Gefahr sein, vor der mich der Teufel gewarnt hatte? Ich schüttelte den Kopf. Wenn die Bullen kamen, um mich zu verhaften, konnte ich ihnen einfach sagen, dass sie mich gehen lassen sollten. Und wenn Mary oder Allison verhaftet wurden, dann konnte ich einfach zum Gefängnis gehen und sie wieder herausholen.

Dann lief in den Nachrichten irgendwas über einen Hund, der etwas angestellt hatte. Ich schaltete ab. Ich starrte auf die Mattscheibe und zog den roten Kristall heraus. Ich schaute ihn genau an. Er sah jetzt eigentlich völlig normal aus. Das rote Feuer, das wir in der vergangenen Nacht gesehen hatten, brannte jetzt nicht. Er fühlte sich in meiner Hand kühl an und glatt wie Glas.

„Meister?“ Ich zuckte zusammen. Desiree stand vor mir und schaute besorgt. Sie hatte auch dieses Zofen-Outfit an, das Allison trug. Ihre großen Titten, die von dem durchsichtigen Leibchen gehalten wurden, baumelten vor meinem Gesicht. „Mi Rey! Geht es dir gut? Du hast mir nicht geantwortet.“

„Entschuldige, ich habe nachgedacht“, erwiderte ich und schob den Kristall wieder in meine Hosentasche, neben die Schachtel mit dem Verlobungsring. Ich musste mich von den Dingen, die der Teufel gesagt hatte, lösen. Ich hoffte, dass das heute ein toller Tag werden würde, ein romantischer Tag mit Mary, der hervorragend laufen sollte. „Was hast du denn gesagt, Desiree?“

„Das Frühstück ist fertig, mi Rey“, antwortete sie. „Soll ich der Reina Bescheid sagen?“

„Ja, wahrscheinlich ist sie jetzt mit der Dusche fertig“, sagte ich. „Desiree, was heißt denn mi Rey?“

„Mein König“, sagte Desiree. Dann kam ein leidender Ausdruck auf ihr Gesicht. „Magst du das nicht?“

„Doch, doch, ich mag es“, sagte ich. „Dann heißt Reina wohl Königen, oder?“

„Genau!“ Desiree strahle. Dann lief sie nach oben, um Mary zu holen. „Sag ihr das!“ rief ich hinter ihr her.

In der Küche stand ein kleiner Frühstückstisch und er war für vier Personen eingedeckt, Es gab vier Teller mit Omeletts und mit knusprigem Toast. Ein Krug mit Orangensaft stand in der Mitte des Tisches. Daneben gab es eine ganze Reihe von Schälchen mit verschiedenen Marmeladen. Auf der Arbeitsplatte dampfte eine Kanne mit Kaffee. Ich nahm mir einen Kaffee und gab Milch dazu. Dann setzte ich mich an den Tisch. Das Omelett war besonders lecker.

Meine drei Damen kamen hereinmarschiert. Mary hatte ihren rosafarbenen Bademantel an. Sie hatte ihr Haar in ein Handtuch eigewickelt. Sie wurde von Allison und Desiree in ihren Zofen-Kostümen flankiert. Mary setzte sich neben mich und gab mir einen Kuss, Alle lobten Desiree für das Frühstück und vernichteten dann die Omeletts, die sie gemacht hatte. Anschließend ging Mary mit Allison wieder nach oben, um Mary für unsere Verabredung fertig zu machen. Ich trank in der Zwischenzeit meine dritte Tasse Kaffee und beobachtete Desiree, wie sie die Küche wieder in Ordnung brachte. Das sah sehr sexy aus. Immer wieder erhaschte ich kurze Blicke auf ihren dunklen Arsch und auf ihre Muschi, wenn sie sich vorbeugte oder nach oben langte, um das Geschirr wegzuräumen.

Als Mary zurückkam, fand sie Desiree über das Spülbecken gebeugt, während ich sie von hinten fickte. Desiree war einfach zu sexy, dass ich hätte widerstehen können. „Was meinst du?“ fragte Mary und drehte sich in einem gelben Sommerkleid, das mit roten Orchideen gemustert war. Das Kleid hatte einen ovalen tiefen Ausschnitt und einen Rock, der ihr bis zur Mitte ihrer Oberschenkel fiel. Schwarze Stiefel mit hohen Absätzen vervollständigten ihr Outfit. Sie hatte nur sehr wenig Makeup aufgelegt.

„Du siehst hinreißend aus!“ stöhnte ich und spürte weiter Desirees samtige Fotze. „Ich liebe diese Stiefel.“

Mary lachte. „Bist du bald fertig? Ich möchte nicht, dass wir uns verspäten!“

„Es würde mir vielleicht ein bisschen helfen, wenn du mit Allison schmust“, sagte ich hoffnungsvoll. „Okay“, sagte Mary. Sie zog Allison an sich und küsste sie. Ihre Zungen kämpften miteinander. Marys Hand glitt in Allisons Leibchen und zog eine feste Brust und den gepiercten Nippel heraus. Dann blinzelte sie mir zu und fing an, an Allisons Knöpfchen zu lecken.

„Verdammt, das sieht so geil aus!“ rief ich und schoss meine Ladung tief in Desirees Bauch.

„Gut, dann lass uns losziehen“, sagte Mary und griff nach meinem Arm. Ich kam kaum noch dazu, meine Hose zu schließen, bevor Mary mich aus der Küche zog. Während die Küchentür sich schloss, konnte ich gerade noch sehen, wie sich Allison vor Desiree hinkniete, um mein Sperma direkt aus ihrer Fotze zu trinken, so wie eine gute Schlampe das tut.

Im Wohnzimmer nahm sich Mary eine Tasche, die farblich gut zu ihrem Kleid passte und ich nahm meine Autoschlüssel und zog meinen bodenlangen Mantel an. Ich ignorierte, dass Mary die Augen rollte, weil das ziemlich lächerlich aussah. Dann nahm ich noch den Camcorder und das GPS-Gerät, das Allison für unseren Trip programmiert hatte. Dann waren wir draußen und stiegen in den Mustang. Der Motor röhrte, das GPS-Gerät wurde eingestöpselt und „Verdammt, ich hätte nicht gedacht, dass das so weit ist.“

Die Orca-Tour fand ganz im Norden statt, bei Anacortes, nördlich von Seattle und sogar nördlich von Everett. Das Navi sagte, dass wir etwas mehr als zwei Stunden brauchen würden, bis wir ankamen. Als Mary in das Auto stieg, rutschte ihr der Saum ihres Kleides nach oben und konnte ein wenig rotes Haar sehen. Das saftige Fohlen hatte kein Höschen an und ich hatte ein Stückchen von ihrem herzförmigen Bewuchs gesehen. Als ich losfuhr, schob sie ihr Kleid noch weiter nach oben und fing langsam an zu masturbieren.

„Ich finde das ein wenig ablenkend“, sagte ich. Mein Blick wurde immer wieder zu ihren Fingern hingezogen, die kleine Kreise um ihren Kitzler vollführten.

„Dass du eben Desiree gefickt hast und dass ich eben mit Allison rumgeknutscht habe, hat mich einfach geil gemacht“, sagte sie. „Das musst du schon schlucken.“

„Ich würde es vorziehen, wenn du es schlucken würdest“, sagte ich und schaute sie an.

Sie schnaubte vor Lachen. Dann schloss sie ihre Augen und rieb ihren Kitzler ein wenig fester. Sie rutschte auf ihrem Sitz hin und her und biss sich auf die Lippe. Der Duft ihrer Erregung erfüllte den Wagen. Mary stöhnte leise und fingerte sich jetzt. Ihre Handfläche drückte sie dabei gegen ihren Kitzler. Zwei Finger stieß sie sich rhythmisch in ihre Fotze. Ihr Atem wurde schneller und sie stöhnte ohne Worte, als es ihr kam.

„Jetzt, wo du fertig bist, würde es dir etwas ausmachen, mir den Schwanz zu lutschen?“ fragte ich. Mein Schwanz war in meiner Hose schmerzhaft angeschwollen und hart.

Mary öffnete ihre Augen. „Hast du mir nicht gesagt, dass ich das nicht noch einmal machen soll? Hast du nicht beinahe einen Unfall gebaut, als ich das zuletzt gemacht habe?“

„Okay, ich fahre rechts ran“, sagte ich.

„Wir sollten uns nicht verspäten“, sagte Mary. „Du solltest besser noch warten.“

„Mach schon Mare, ich werde mich beeilen.“

Mary schnaubte wieder vor Lachen. „Du weißt schon, wie du ein Mädchen rumkriegen kannst!“

„Ich liebe dich“, sagte ich und griff nach ihrem nackten Oberschenkel und streichelte ihn. „Du bist so wunderschön und begehrenswert. Ich bin absolut machtlos vor deiner atemberaubenden Schönheit. Du bist eine Göttin und ich will dich mit meiner Zuneigung bedecken.“

Mary fing an, langsam ihre geschwollene Vulva zu reiben und ihre Schamlippen mit ihren Fingern ein wenig zu zupfen. „Hmm, bedecke mich lieber mit deiner warmen und klebrigen Zuneigung! Das klingt echt geil!“ Ihr Finger schlüpfte in ihre Fotze und fickte sie langsam.

Ich griff mit einer Hand nach unten und öffnete meine Hose. Dann zog ich meine Erektion heraus. „Schau mal, wie stark meine Hingabe an dich ist! Sieh mal, wie hart mein Bedürfnis ist, dich zu verehren.“

Marys smaragdgrüne und mit lusterfüllte Augen hingen an meinem Schwanz. „Oh, so schön groß und hart!“ stöhnte sie. Sie leckte ihre Lippen und griff mit ihrer weichen Hand nach meinem harten Schwanz. Sie wichste ihn zweimal, dann fuhr ihre Hand weiter nach unten und umschloss meine Eier. „Genau, die sind voll von warmer klebriger Zuneigung.“ Sie senkte ihren Kopf in meinen Schoß.

Ihr Mund war warm und nass an meinem Schwanz. Sie saugte gierig und fuhr mit ihrer Zunge über meine empfindliche Eichel. Ich streichelte ihr vorsichtig über das Haar und genoss die Lust, die Mary mir bereitete. Ich war so erregt, weil ich sie eben hatte masturbieren sehen, dass ich in ihrem süßen Mund nicht lange aushalten würde. Das Auto war von schmatzenden Geräuschen angefüllt. Die kamen sowohl von ihrem Mund, der meinen Schwanz lutschte, als auch von ihren Fingern, die ihre nasse Fotze fickten. „Oh verdammt!“ stöhnte ich. „Hier kommt deine Zuneigung!“ Meine Eier zogen sich zusammen und dann spritzte ich meine Zuneigung in den Mund meiner Göttin. Und sie trank alles.

Sie setzte sich wieder auf. Ihre Lippen trugen weiße Spuren. Und sie rieb sich wie wild ihre Fotze und ihren Kitzler. „Hmmm, das war so lecker!“ stöhnte sie und leckte ihre Lippen. „Das war warm und salzig. Verdammt nochmal, deine Zuneigung ist so richtig schön glatt durch meine Kehle geflossen.“ Sie zuckte auf ihrem Sitz, als es ihr zum zweiten Mal auf ihren schlanken Fingern kam.

„Einen Mund einer Frau auf dem Schwanz zu haben ist das einzige Wahre beim Autofahren“, sagte ich und schob meinen Schwanz wieder in meine Hose.

Mary seufzte. „Ich bin nur froh, dass du uns nicht umgebracht hast.“ Sie fixierte mich mit ihren grünen Augen. „Erwarte nicht, dass ich das nochmal mache.“

Eine Stunde später fühlte ich mich ausgelassen und fing an, ihre Schenkel zu streicheln, dann ließ ich meine Hand zwischen ihre Beine gleiten und streichelte ihre Möse. Ihr Gesicht wurde rot und ihre Nippel wurden hart. Und dann tat sie nichts lieber, als noch einmal meinen Schwanz zu blasen. Ich genoss diesen Blowjob so sehr, dass ich an unserer Ausfahrt vorbei fuhr. Nachdem es mir gekommen war, schimpfte Mary mich und sagte, dass sie mir nie wieder einen blasen würde, während wir fuhren.

Bei der nächsten Ausfahrt wendete ich und dreißig Minuten später rollten wir nach Anacortes hinein. Das ist ein wunderschöne Stadt auf der nördlichen Halbinsel von Fidalgo Island. Auf der einen Seite liegt der Puget Sound und auf der anderen liegen bewaldete Hügel. Wir fuhren durch die malerische Stadt. Wir kamen an alten Gebäuden vorbei, die liebevoll gepflegt aussahen und an unberührten Parks voller fröhlicher Menschen. Der salzige Geruch des Sunds füllte unsere Nasen, während wir an den Docks vorbeifuhren. Dort gab es alle möglichen Arten von Booten und Schiffen.

Als wir schließlich an dem Dock ankamen, an dem die Island Explorer 3 lag, hatten wir noch 15 Minuten. Das Schiff war etwa dreißig Meter lang und hatte zwei Decks. Mary zog mit ihrem sexy Sommerkleid und ihren schwarzen Stiefeln alle Blicke auf sich, als wir auf das Schiff gingen. Und nicht nur die Männer starrten sie an. Es schien mir so, dass jede Frau, die sie sah, sie mit lustvollen Augen anschaute. Mary genoss jede Minute dieser Aufmerksamkeit, die ihr entgegenschlug. In der vergangenen Nacht hatte sich Mary gewünscht, dass alle Frauen sie begehrenswert fanden und keine ihren sexuellen Annäherungen widerstehen konnten. Ganz offensichtlich war dieser Wunsch in Erfüllung gegangen. Wir gingen in Richtung auf den Bug und immer wieder rieben sich Frauen an ihr und lächelten sie an. Schließlich kamen wir vorne an. Mary stellte sich an die Reling und ich stellte mich hinter sie und legte meine Arme um sie. Mary hüpfte vor Erregung, als das Schiff losmachte und das Dock verließ.

Marys Arsch rieb sich an meinem Schwanz und das hatte den zu erwartenden Effekt. Mary spürte meine Härte und sie flüsterte: „Ich habe kein Höschen an, und mit deinem langen Mantel…“ Ich machte rasch meinen Reißverschluss auf und sie spürte, wie mein harter Schwanz gegen ihre Muschi stieß. Mein langer Mantel verbarg, was wir miteinander trieben.

„Also ist mein Mantel doch nicht ganz so lächerlich“, stöhnte ich in ihr Ohr, als mein Schwanz tief in ihre nasse Muschi hinein glitt.

Sie keuchte: „Ich glaube, du hast recht.“ Und dann drückte sie ihre Möse um meinem Schwanz zusammen, während ich sie langsam fickte.

Während das Schiff in den Puget Sound fuhr und auf die San Juan Inseln zuhielt, kam immer wieder Frauen auf Mary zu. Sie sprachen mit ihr und flirteten mit ihr, sie streichelten ihr über den Arm oder standen einfach nur vor ihr und erröteten. Die hübschen küsste Mary und schob ihnen ihre Finger an ihrem Bündchen vorbei in die Hose und suchte nach ihren nassen Muschis. Bei denen, die Röcke trugen, schob sie einfach eine Hand darunter und fingerte die Frau, bis es ihr kam. Die meisten hatten Ehemänner oder Freunde dabei, denen es nicht gefiel, dass ihre Mädchen gefingert wurden, also musste ich ihnen dann immer sagen, dass sei einfach dastehen und zuschauen sollten. Nachdem es den Frauen dann gekommen war, schickte Mary sie weg und dann hielt sie mir ihre klebrigen Finger an die Lippen und ich schmeckte ihren Moschus.

Ich fing an, Mary härter zu ficken, als sie ihre zweite Frau fingerte und dabei spritzte ich ihr in die Möse. Mary keuchte und schrie auf und es kam ihr auch auf meinem Schwanz. Dann hielt ich mich in ihrer Fotze, bis ich wieder hart war und fing wieder an, sie zu ficken. Unsere Aktivitäten blieben natürlich nicht unbemerkt, aber nach ein paar Befehlen an die Mannschaft ließ man uns in Ruhe, damit wir unserem Vergnügen nachgehen konnten.

Nachdem Mary eine ganze Reihe von Frauen gefingert und zum Orgasmus gebracht hatte und nachdem ich ein paarmal in ihre Möse gespritzt hatte, wurde sie mutiger. Die nächste Frau, die sie fingerte, war eine kleine Japanerin mit olivfarbener Haut und blauschwarzem Haar. Mary schob ihr das Oberteil hoch und dann auch noch den BH. Dann leckte sie ihre Lippen, beugte sich vor und nahm ihre kleinen runden Titten mit den harten Nippeln in den Mund, während sie ihr gleichzeitig einen Finger in die Fotze schob. Ein japanischer Mann, offenbar ihr Ehemann, fing an, Fotos zu machen, wie seine Frau ihre Titten gelutscht wurden. Er stammelte etwas Japanisches. Es klang so, als ob er den Anblick genießen würde.

„Das ist gut“, stöhnte Mary, als sich die Japanerin ihrem Orgasmus näherte. „Komm für mich, Schlampe. Komm auf meinem Finger, du verdorbene kleine Lesbe!“ Mary stieß ihre Hüften nach hinten gegen meinen Schwanz und ich stieß ihn tief in ihre nasse Wärme hinein. Das Geräusch unseres Fickens war nass, weil ich ihre Fotze schon mit einigen Ladungen gefüllt hatte.

„Ich komme, ich komme!“ stöhnte die Japanerin in gebrochenem Englisch. „Du machst so gut!“ sagte die Frau. Mary küsste sie und sie stolperte auf ihren Mann zu. Er drückte sie gegen die Reling und ich musste lächeln, als er anfing, sie mit seinem kleinen Schwanz zu ficken.

Mary hielt mir wieder ihre Finger hin und ich leckte das würzige Aroma der kleinen Frau ab. „Schmeckt sie gut?“ fragte Mary. „Schmeckt die lesbische Schlampe süß?“

„Ganz süß“, keuchte ich, weil ich mich erneut einem Orgasmus näherte. „Ich bin ganz kurz davor, schon wieder zu kommen, Mare!“

„Komm in mir!“ stöhnte Mary gierig. „Gib mir noch mehr von deinem warmen Saft!“ Ihre Fotze pulsierte auf meinem Schwanz, als es ihr auch kam. Ich stöhnte und schoss ihr eine weitere Ladung in ihre nasse heiße Fotze.

Wir waren beide außer Atem und wir schwitzten. Die kühle Seebrise fühlte sich himmlisch auf meiner Haut an. Und dann keuchte Mary plötzlich und zeigte aufgeregt mit ihrer Hand. Draußen in den Wellen brachen drei Orcas durch die Oberfläche und wir vergaßen alles um den Sex herum und beobachteten diese majestätischen Tiere, wie sie durch das Wasser schwammen. Ich zog meinen Camcorder aus der Manteltasche und fing an zu filmen. Die Wale waren schwarz und hatten weiße Bäuche. Sie schwammen mit großer Anmut durch die Wellen. Mary hatte recht. Es war sehr romantisch und ich war glücklich, dass ich das zusammen mit ihr sehen durfte.
„Sind die nicht großartig?“ gurrte eine Frau mit einem schwülen französischen Akzent.

Eine brünette Frau mit einem jungenhaften kurzen Haarschnitt kam zu uns an die Reling . Sie war ziemlich klein und hatte den grazilen schlanken Körper einer Tänzerin. Sie hatte eine hautenge schwarze Jeans an und eine Bluse mit einem sehr tiefen Ausschnitt. Eine zweite Frau, groß mit schmutzigblondem Haar mit blauen Strähnchen stand hinter ihr und umarmte sie. Sie war eine kurvenreiche Schönheit mit einer weißen Spitzenbluse und einem schwarzen Faltenrock, der wunderschöne gebräunte Beine zeigte. Beide trugen zueinander passende Eheringe.

„Wirklich“, sagte Mary und ihre Fotze spannte sich wieder um meinen Schwanz. Ich wusste, dass Mary von diesen beiden Frauen erregt wurde. „Wunderschön und exotisch.“

„Ich heiße Lana“, sagte die Blonde mit einem leicht slawischen Akzent. Sie hatte das runde Gesicht und die hervorstehenden Wangenknochen einer Osteuropäerin. „Und das ist meine Frau Chantelle.“

„Wir machen gerade unsere Flitterwochen“, sagte Chantelle aufgeregt.

„Herzlichen Glückwunsch“, sagte Mary fröhlich. „Ich heiße Mary und das hier ist mein Freund Mark.“

Dann lehnte sich Mary vor und küsste Chantelle auf die Lippen. Lana keuchte überrascht und öffnete ihren Mund, um einen Einwand zu erheben, da ließ Mary den Mund ihrer Ehefrau los und küsste sie selber auch. Chantelle bemühte sich, wieder zu Atem zu kommen und Lana war genauso atemlos wie ihre Frau, als Mary den Kuss beendete.

„Ich liebe deinen Akzent“, sagte ich zu Chantelle. „Aus welchem Teil von Frankreich kommst du?“

„Saint-Jerôme in Quebec“, sagte Lana mit einem Schmollmund. Chantelle küsste ihre Frau entschuldigend. „Letztes Jahr haben wir uns ein süßes kleines Haus gekauft. Es ist sehr gemütlich.“

Chantelle lächelte leicht verdorben. „Mmmm, sehr gemütlich“, gurrte sie und rieb ihren Arsch am Schoß ihrer Frau.

„Wie habt ihr beide euch denn getroffen?“ wollte Mary wissen.

„Beim Tanzen“, sagte Lana. „Wir haben beide im Deja Vu in Lakewood gearbeitet. Und eines Abends war Chantelle auf der Bühne und ich habe unten gearbeitet, weißt du. Ich habe einen Kerl gesucht, der für einen Lapdance bezahlen wollte. Als sich unsere Blicke trafen, da war das wie ein elektrischer Schlag zwischen uns beiden. Und es war so, als ob Chantelle da auf der Bühne nur noch für mich tanzte. Als wir Feierabend hatten, habe ich sie dann mit nach Hause genommen und wir haben stundenlang Liebe gemacht.“

„Ihr seid Stripper?“ platzte ich heraus.

Chantelle starrte mich mit eisigem Blick an. „Wir sind exotische Tänzerinnen!“

„Entschuldigung“, sagte ich.

„Ich finde das so romantisch, wie ihr euch getroffen habt“, sagte Mary. Sie glitt mit ihrer Hand über die Reling und tätschelte Chantelles.

Chantelle sah uns von oben bis unten an. „Fickst du sie gerade?“ fragte sie mit einem verdorbenen Lächeln.

„Ich genieße nur gerade eine besonders liebevolle Umarmung meiner Freundin“, sagte ich langsam.

Chantelle lachte und wollte etwas sagen, als Lana aufgeregt rief: „Schaut mal, der springt gerade!“

Einer der Orcas war gerade aus dem Wasser gesprungen und dann wieder elegant eingetaucht. Lana umarmte Chantelle aufgeregt und bewegte sie hin und her. Mary fing an, Chantelles Arm zu streicheln und ihre Finger langsam über ihre Haut zu ziehen. Chantelle lächelte sie an.

„Ihr beide seid ganz schön wild“, sagte sie. „Lana und ich haben richtig Spaß gehabt, wie du diese kleine Asiatin gerade gefingert hast.“

„Ich würde dich gerne auch fingern“, sagte Mary und streichelte weiter den Arm der Frankokanadiern.

„Hey!“ protestierte Lana. „Das ist meine Frau!“

In Marys Augen stand ein sehr erregtes Glitzern. Und ich wusste, was sie vorhatte. Ich nahm Lanas Arm und zog mich aus Marys Muschi zurück. „Hey, lass uns beide doch da drüben ein bisschen Spaß miteinander haben. Deine Frau ist in sehr erfahrenen Händen. Entspanne dich also und lass mich mal machen und du wirst sehen, dass du deinen Spaß haben wirst.“

Lana wehrte sich nicht, als ich sie einen Meter zur Seite führte. Mary und Chantelle küssten sich jetzt leidenschaftlich und Lana schaute traurig zu, wie ihre neue Frau mit einer anderen Frau herumschmuste. „Wie konnte sie das tun?“ beklagte sie sich, als ich anfing, ihren festen runden Arsch zu streicheln.

„Mach dir keine Sorgen“, flüsterte ich in Lanas Ohr. „Sie liebt dich immer noch, sie hat nur ein bisschen Spaß. Sei nicht eifersüchtig.“

Lana entspannte sich und ich fing ihre saftige Lippen in einem Kuss ein. Dann drehte ich sie herum und rieb meinen klebrigen Schwanz an der Rückseite ihres Rockes. Dann hob ich den Rock hoch und legte ihren runden Arsch frei, der von einem hellblauen Spitzenhöschen bedeckt war. Ich zog ihr dieses Höschen von ihren runden Arschbacken herunter. Es war sexy, keine weißen Linien am Arsch einer Frau zu sehen und ich stellte mir vor, wie diese üppige Frau nackt an einem Pool lag und vor Öl glänzte. Ich schob meinen Schwanz zwischen ihre Beine, fand die nassen rasierten Schamlippen ihrer Muschi und schob mich in ihren nassen Tunnel hinein.

„Oh verdammt“, stöhnte Lana. Ihre Fotze drückte meinen Schwanz höchst angenehm. „Das ist schön. Es ist schon ein paar Jahre her, dass ich zuletzt einen Schwanz in mir hatte.“

Chantelles Jeans und ihr hellroter String baumelten an ihren Fußgelenken und ihr kleiner Arsch drängte sich gegen die Reling, während Mary sich an ihr rieb. Sie drückte ihren Kitzler feste gegen Chantelles. Chantelle stöhnte und rieb sich an Marys Hüfte, als Mary an ihrem Hals lutschte. Beide frischverheirateten Lesben stöhnten, während sie gefickt wurden. Lana griff nach der Hand ihrer Frau und sie hielten sich beide fest, während sich in beiden die Lust immer weiter aufbaute.

Um uns herum schauten mehrere Paare zu und hatten ebenfalls ihren Spaß dabei. Das japanische Pärchen war wohl der Auslöser. Ehemänner und Freunde, die zugesehen hatten, wie Mary ihre Partnerinnen fingerte, hatten ihre Frauen jetzt über die Reling gebeugt und fickten sie leidenschaftlich. Ich hatte offenbar eine weitere Orgie ausgelöst. Lanas Fotze spannte sich auf meinem Schwanz, als es ihr hart kam.

„Fick mich! Fick mich!“ stöhnte Lana. „Spritz mir die Fotze voll!“

Meine Eier zogen sich zusammen, mein Orgasmus baute sich auf und dann explodierte er aus mir heraus und überflutete ihre warme Möse. „Gott, das war toll!“ keuchte ich. Ich küsste Lanas Hals und atmete schwer.

Chantelle und Mary rieben sich weiterhin aneinander. „Wirst du gleich für mich kommen?“ fragte Mary leise in Chantelles Ohr. „Wird deine dreckige Fotze gleich auf meiner Muschi kommen? Wird es dir auf einer anderen Frau kommen, während deine Frau zuschaut?“
„Ja, oh ja!“ stöhnte Chantelle. „Schau zu, Lana! Schau zu, wie es mir kommt!“

Lana drückte ihre Hand und flüsterte: „Komm, Süße!“

Mary und Chantelle kamen gleichzeitig. Sie zuckten hart gegeneinander. „Ich komme Lana! Oh ist das geil!“

Befriedigt ließ Mary jetzt von Chantelle ab und stolperte zu mir. Sie legte ihren Arm um mich. Lana und Chantelle umarmten sich leidenschaftlich und sie küssten sich. Und dann war es an Lana, sich an Chantelle zu reiben. Mary und ich standen Arm in Arm und beobachteten die Orcas im Puget Sound. Das Spiel der Tiere wurde von den Geräuschen des Sex auf dem Schiff begleitet. Die Orcas war wirklich majestätische Tiere, elegant und kraftvoll.

Als die Orcas unter den Wellen verschwanden, drehte die Island Explorer 3 wieder in Richtung Anacortes. Mary drehte sich zu mir und küsste mich. „Danke“, sagte sie leise in mein Ohr. Tränen liefen über ihre Wangen. „Das war echt magisch!“

Ich streichelte ihr das Gesicht. „Du hast recht“, sagte ich, nahm ihr Kinn und küsste sie.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mary und ich waren die ersten, die Island Explorer verließen. Lana und Chantelle folgten uns. Auf dem Rückweg wurde sehr schnell klar, dass Mary sauber gemacht werden musste. Ich hatte fünf oder sechs Ladungen in sie hinein geschossen und mein Saft lief an ihren Beinen herunter. Lana gab sich die Ehre, während ihre Frau meinen Schwanz ableckte. Lana leckte noch mein Sperma auf, als ich Chantelle eine Ladung in den Hals schoss. Danach sagte ich ihr, dass sie Lana helfen sollte. Sie machte das auch gleich. Mary kam auf ihren beiden Gesichtern.

„Können wir sie behalten?“ fragte Mary und keuchte hart von ihrem Orgasmus.

„Sicher, Mare“, sagte ich. Mir gefiel die Idee, ein verheiratetes lesbisches Pärchen als Sexsklavinnen zu halten, auch.

Wir stiegen als stolze Besitzer von zwei weiteren Schlampen in meinen Mustang. Mary hatte ihnen gesagt, dass sie uns in ihrem herunter gekommenen alten Honda Civic folgen sollten. Er mochte mal rot gewesen sein, oder blau oder weiß. So viele Teile waren in der Zwischenzeit ausgetauscht worden, dass man beim besten Willen nicht mehr sagen konnte, wie die Originallackierung ausgesehen hatte. Ich musste mich zusammennehmen, dass ich nicht zu schnell fuhr, um die beiden nicht zu verlieren. Irgendwie schafften wir es dann durch den furchtbaren Verkehr in Seattle in der Innenstadt und kamen bei der Space Needle an.

Nach einem kurzen Zwischenstopp beim Restaurant, wo ich den Angestellten ein paar Befehle erteilte, fuhren wir hoch zur Aussichtsplattform und hatten eine atemberaubende Aussicht über Umgebung. Seattle sah fantastisch aus. Es liegt auf einer Landenge zwischen dem Puget Sound im Westen und dem Lake Washington im Osten. Der Mount Rainier sah so imposant aus wie immer und der Gletscher sah aus, als ob er brannte, weil die Sonne so tief stand. Wir blieben auf der Plattform, bis die Sonne hinter der Olympic Mountains auf der anderen Seite des Sound untergegangen war.

Als die letzten Strahlen der Sonne hinter den violetten Schatten der entfernten Olympic Mountains verschwunden waren, fiel ich auf ein Knie und griff in meine Hosentasche. Lana und Chantelle, die wie wir auch das Schauspiel genossen hatten, kamen heran. Lana hatte meinen Camcorder und filmte. Mary hatte einen verblüfften Gesichtsausdruck. Aber sie war gleichzeitig sehr gespannt. Sie wurde langsam tiefrot im Gesicht.

Ich fummelte ein wenig herum und bekam schließlich die Schachtel zu fassen. Beinahe ließ ich sie fallen. Ich öffnete die Ringschachtel und hielt sie hoch. „Mary, ich habe dir dein Herz gestohlen und dann hast du mir meines gestohlen. Und obwohl wir einander wirklich noch nicht besonders lange kennen, ist es doch lang genug für mich, dass ich weiß, dass ich den Rest meines Lebens mit dir verbringen möchte. Willst du mich heiraten?“

„Ja! Ja, ja, ja!“ rief sie. Sie hatte Tränen in den Augen.

Sie zog mich hoch, warf ihre Arme um mich und küsste mich. Die Zeit schien stehen zu bleiben und es gab nur noch Mary und mich. Unsere Körper und unsere Seelen waren miteinander verbunden. Unsere Körper waren gegeneinander gepresst, unsere Zungen im jeweils anderen Mund. Ich wankte, als sie den Kuss beendete. Ich musste mich auf Mary abstützen, damit ich nicht umfiel. Gleichzeitig hielt sie sich an mir fest. Um uns herum klatschten andere Touristen und jubelten uns zu. Ich nahm den Verlobungsring aus der Schachtel und meine Hand zitterte, als ich ihn ihr auf den linken Ringfinger steckte. Dann küssten wir uns wieder.

Der Applaus und der Jubel verstummten wieder, als wir beide dann Chantelle und Lana küssten und die Zuschauer gingen verwirrt oder angewidert weg. Aber das machte Mary und mir nichts aus. Wir waren glücklich, dass wir unsere Liebe mit unseren Schlampen teilen konnten. Mary hing an mir, als wir dann zum Restaurant hinunter gingen, eine Etage unter der Plattform.

Um Mary zu überraschen, hatte ich sie nicht mit hinein genommen, als ich meine Spezialanordnungen gegeben hatte, sie hatte also keine Ahnung, was sie erwartete und sie war ganz aufgeregt. Der Oberkellner wartete außerhalb des Restaurants neben einem „Geschlossen“-Schild. Er entschuldigte sich höflich bei Gästen, die hier essen wollten. Er ließ uns vier allerdings mit einem steifen Nicken passieren. Im Restaurant standen die weiblichen Angestellten aufgereiht. Sie hatten nichts an als kleine weiße Schürzen, die ihre flachen Bäuche und ihre Brüste frei ließen. Es waren sechs, alle waren auf ihre besondere Art und Weise hinreißend.

„Wähle bitte drei von ihnen aus, die uns bedienen sollen“, sagte ich Mary. „die anderen drei sind dann für Lana und Chantelle.“

„Danke, Meister“, sagte Lana und sie schaute gierig auf das Menü von nackten Frauen. Sie hatte ihren Arm um ihre Frau gelegt. Chantelle leckte sich die Lippen.

„Gerne geschehen, Lana“, sagte ich. „Ihr seid in den Flitterwochen, also habt Spaß!“

Mary schaute sich die Frauen genau an. Sie ging an ihnen vorbei und schaute sehr sorgfältig. Sie fuhr mit ihrer Hand durch das blonde Haar der lebhaften Fiona, kniff in den runden Hintern von Hannah und griff an die großen Titten der ansonsten eher kleinen Xiu. Mary spielte mit dem Schmetterling, der an einem Kettchen an ihrem Brustpiercing befestigt war. Dann ging Mary weiter, sie kniff in die winzigen Brüste von Wanda, glitt mit ihrer Hand über die rasierten Schamlippen von Korinas Muschi und erzeugte auf dem schlanken Arsch von Ingrid, der schlaksigen Blonden, eine Gänsehaut. Sie schob Korina nach vorne, legte einen Arm um Xius Taille und die andere um Ingrids und zog beide Mädchen an sich. Dann grinste sie mich verdorben an. „Wir werden eine Menge Spaß haben heute Abend!“

To be continued…
Click here for Kapitel 8

The Devil’s Pact Side-Story: Miss Blythe is Hot for Her Students

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Side-Story: Miss Blythe is Hot for Her Students

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2014


Story Codes: Teen male/Female, Female/Teen female, Teen female/Teen female, Consensual, Watersports, Creampie, School, First

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. To contact me, you can leave a comment or email me at my_pen_name3000@hotmail.com, and you can contact my editor by email at dionysus40@prodigy.net.



Note: This takes during Chapter 34. Follows Lynette Blythe, teacher at Rogers High School from Mark Goes Back to School.



Wednesday, September 4th, 2013

“Hi, I am Miss Blythe,” I said to my class, writing my name on the whiteboard with a red dry-erase marker. “I will be your World History teacher.”

It was the first day of the new school year and, as I launched into the course syllabus, my thoughts kept drifting to that day in June at the end of the last term, when my Living God, the Holy Mark Glassner, walked into this very classroom and changed my very outlook on life. I didn’t know he was a God then, and only later did my inexplicable actions – bending over my desk, and letting all the virgin male students in my class fuck me – make sense.

It was the most exciting thing that ever happened to me.

I was those boys’ first fuck. It made me so happy to help them lose their virginities, to see the excited smiles that filled their boyish faces afterwards—I felt proud, honored even. I made those boys into men, and they made me feel so womanly.

This morning, as I made my way to teach this class, I bumped into one of them: Kev Spellecacy. He was holding hands with Maya Spooner, and the smile he gave me sent my heart fluttering—and my cunt dripping. He stopped to introduce me to Maya, his girlfriend. “It’s all because of you, Miss Blythe,” he had explained. “That day, you gave me confidence. Well, take care, Miss Blythe.” His girlfriend gave him a questioning look as they walked off.

I was positively skipping when I headed to my class—I gave him confidence. I helped to bring him out of his shell. And it was so easy: all I had to do was let him fuck me. It got me thinking—wouldn’t the world be a better place if caring, older women – not that I was old at twenty-five; I was mature and experienced – guided these young men through their blossoming sexuality.

As I spoke to my first period class, I perched on the edge of my desk. I was dressed in a tight vest with a plunging neckline; my 34DD breasts strained against my top and threatened to pop off a button if I breathed in too deeply. My skirt was short, exposing my long, tanned legs that were clad with dark, thigh-high stockings; I could feel all the boys’, and a few of the girls’, hungry gazes upon me.

There was one boy in particular that caught my eye with his lustful stare. Patrick Algar. He was slouched in the back, his deep, blue eyes – covered by large, silver-rimmed glasses – were glued to my cleavage. His face was pimply, round, cute; he looked so young and innocent. When I leaned over slightly, his eyes widened, and he shifted in his seat. My cunt let out a trickle of juices—I excited him.

He was all I could think about as I struggled to teach for the rest of the period. As my students filed out, I grabbed his arm. “I saw what you were doing in the back of the class,” I sternly told him. “Detention, after school. My classroom.”

He gaped and spluttered at me, “ But I didn’t…”

“Don’t lie to me, Patrick, I saw what you did. Now go.”

I watched his cute, little ass as he scurried out of my classroom, and pressed my thighs together to try and relieve that wonderful ache between them. Gods, I was sopping wet, and wanted nothing more than to play with my naked cunt. I didn’t wear panties anymore, that was against the tenets of the Living Church, and I was beginning to smell my spicy arousal and felt a trickle of passion running down my thigh.

I was a ball of frustration, panting after every cute boy in my classes and struggling to teach my lessons—probably poorly; I just couldn’t think straight. By the time my lunch period – the school had three of them – had finally come around, I had resorted to sticking a tampon inside my sopping pussy to try and control the flood of juices. I was about to settle in for a quiet fifty minutes in my classroom – maybe lock the door and finger myself to an orgasm or three – when Kev walked in.

“Miss Blythe,” he greeted, closing the door behind him.

“Um, what can I do for you, Kev?” I asked, forcing myself to sound friendly, and squashed a bit of irritation at the interruption. I needed to cum so bad.

“Well, Miss Blythe, I just can’t stop thinking about last June.” His cheeks were pink, and I noticed a growing bulge in his crotch.

Well, well, well, this was one way to scratch my itch. As I walked to my door to lock it, I asked, “What about your girlfriend?”

“Maya’s getting together with a few friends in the bathroom,” Kev answered. “Um, for some, eh, lesbian fun. She knows why I’m here.”

I frowned; students shouldn’t be having ‘lesbian fun’ on school property. Of course, I wasn’t supposed to fuck my students either. So I bent over my desk and wiggled my ass at him. “What are you waiting for?”

“Fuck yeah, Miss Blythe!”

“Don’t swear,” I admonished.

“Sorry,” he muttered. I heard a zipper rasp, then his hands were on my ass, pulling up my skirt. “Um, there’s a string.”

“It’s a tampon, just pull it out and fuck me!”

I could feel his hesitation. “Are you on the rag?”

“No!” I cried in frustration. I needed to feel his cock inside me. “Just fuck me! Now!”

I gasped as he yanked the tampon out, and I heard a soggy splat as he tossed it into the trash. His cock felt hard as he nudged my pussy, searching for my hole. I groaned; the tip of his dick rubbed about my slit, bumping my clit, before he slid back up and found my pussy canal.

“Yes,” I sighed in relief as he slid home inside me.

“Oh fuck! Your cunt feels as great as I remembered!”

“Don’t swear!” I again admonished even as his cock began to churn my insides.

“Sorry, Miss Blythe,” he groaned. “Your pussy feels great!”

His hips pistoned quickly and pleasure rippled through me from our friction. I had been fucked plenty of times over the summer, mostly at the Church of the Living Gods, but a teenage boy had a certain enthusiasm, a frantic need to spill his cum, that was quickly bringing me to an orgasm. My desk creaked as it slid an inch on the floor. Everything on my desk rattled from the force of his thrusts, and a pencil cup fell over with a clatter, sending its contents skittering wildly across the linoleum.

“Oh Miss Blythe!” Kev grunted. “Oh yes! Geez yes!”

“Harder!” I hissed. “Fuck me harder!”

My orgasm swept through me as Kev pounded my cunt. I gripped the edge of my desk, holding on for dear life as my legs felt like wet noodles. The slap of flesh echoed throughout my classroom, punctuated by grunts and moans from Kev. His strokes grew more and more frenzied.

“Oh f…darn, Miss Blythe!” Kev moaned. “Your pussy just feels more better with every thrust!”

“Just better, Kev!” I panted, unable to shut off my teaching instincts despite the pleasure flooding my brain. “Not ‘more better’!”

“What?” he demanded. “Oh shi…oot! Oh shoot!”

His balls were slapping against my clit, sending wicked vibrations through my body. I was so close to cumming a second time when Kev buried his cock all the way inside me and I felt his cum shooting into me. He thrust one last time – as if to savor the feel of my cunt – before he pulled out, leaving me empty, horny.

Dammit, I was so close to cumming!

“Thanks, Miss Blythe,” he said, zipping his jeans up. “I’ve been thinking of you all summer long.”

Gods, I still wasn’t satisfied; I was almost there. “Kev, which bathroom is your girlfriend at?” If some students were having ‘lesbian fun’ in a school bathroom, at the very least I should supervise them. All extra-curricular activities should have a teacher to monitor and advise the students—for their own safety.

“First floor by the science labs.” He hesitated. “You’re not going to get her in trouble?”

There was a gaggle of girls lounging in that bathroom, and they all looked guilty when I burst in. I didn’t see Maya Spooner, but I did hear a girl’s moans coming from the first stall. All three were occupied, and I heard more soft sighs and gasps. In fact I heard quite a lot of them; they were fooling around in all the stalls. The girls lounging in the restroom fled quickly, squeezing past me, trying not to look me in the eye, as I walked over to the first stall.

There was a trick to opening any of the stall doors from the outside, and I came prepared with a quarter, figuring if there was any hanky-panky going on it would be in a stall. I stuck the coin into the slot on the latch, twisted, and the door popped open. Melody Johnson, a pixie-faced girl with black hair and purple highlights, sat on the toilet while Maya Spooner was busy between her legs.

“Miss Blythe!” Melody gasped.

I smiled at her. I knew her from the Church. Melody liked to tell the story about the day of her sixteenth birthday when she met our Gods, Mark and Mary, in the South Hill Mall’s Old Navy store. Melody and her mom had been shopping when they were honored to be our Gods’ lovers. Maya tried to rise up, but Melody grabbed her short, black hair and held Maya’s mouth to her pussy.

“Keep licking, pee-slut!” purred Melody. “I’m almost there!”

“Pee-slut?” I asked.

“Mmm, Maya and a few other girls were taught the pleasures of watersports in this very bathroom by Him!”

I knew just whom ‘Him’ was—our God. Mark had blessed a lot of girls that day last June when he visited Rogers High School, and more than a few girls showed up pregnant at the start of this school year.

I watched as Melody shivered and came all over Maya’s hungry mouth. Smiling happily, Melody got up and squeezed past me, whispering, “Have fun!”

Maya looked a little uncertainly at me, her face sticky with Melody’s juices. “Relax,” I told her, sitting on the toilet; the seat warmed for me by Melody’s tight ass.

“Did Kev come and see you?” Maya asked.

“In fact he did cum by, and left you something inside me.”

Maya pushed my legs apart and saw my messy cunt. She licked her lips, and buried her head underneath my skirt, her mouth latching onto my pussy. And then she didn’t do anything—no licking, no sucking, not even any fingering. I was so fucking horny! What was she waiting for?

For me to pee, I realized after a minute, feeling a little stupid. She was a pee-slut after all.

Well, I did have to urinate. Feeling a little weird, I relaxed my bladder and flooded her mouth with piss. I heard Maya moan as she drank my piss down. Gods, there was something so intimate, so erotic, at having someone drink your pee—the way it sounded as your urine splashed into an eager mouth, the obscene sounds of swallowing, and the moans of delight issuing from your pee-slut’s hungry mouth. I strained, forcing out as much piss into her nasty mouth as I could and letting the pleasure of urinating tingle through me. The stream died down until only a few drops came out; I sighed sadly, it was over.

Or so I thought. Her tongue slid through my wet folds, bringing a gasp to my lips, as she searched for those drops of pee that always clung to your pussy afterwards. I gripped her black hair, and shuddered as I came on her face; peeing in her mouth had been so erotic; I was primed to go off at her first touch. She kept right on licking me, sucking all of her boyfriend’s cum out of my pussy. Gods, she was good. Her tongue was agile, exploring every inch of my cunt, as she searched for more of Kev’s spunk. Her fingers found my clit, massaging my little pearl and sending surges of electric pleasure through me.

“Gods yes!” I moaned.

This delicious slut was driving me wild. I gripped her black hair, fucking my cunt into her face, desperate for one more cum before the period ended and I had to go back to my teaching. Her tongue was buried into my hole, wiggling about as she pinched my clit. Another orgasm was building—a huge explosion about to be set off by this amazing girl, and her even more amazing tongue. My stomach contracted as the pleasure burst through me. I shoved her face so hard into my cunt I was afraid my hole was going to swallow the girl. I shuddered and bucked and moaned wordlessly, my passion echoing around the bathroom.

“You tasted great, Miss Blythe,” Maya smiled, standing up and brushing some dust off the front of her skirt.

I panted, “Wow, you are amazing!” I stood up, smoothing my skirt back down my hips. The bell tolled, ending the period. “You better get to class.”

She grinned and walked out, her face stained with pussy juices—the Living Church taught that a good girl shouldn’t feel ashamed to be covered in another person’s passion. As I walked back to class, I saw Addison Savidge kissing Suzette Mitchel between rows of lockers. Both girls attend the Living Church, although Suzette only joined the church a few weeks ago with her boyfriend Brian. He went to a different High School, which was a shame because he was quite cute and I’d love to fuck him—Gods, I was turning into one bad teacher, I thought with a giggle. I remembered that there was Church tonight; we met every Wednesday to honor the Miracle that revealed our Living Gods to the World, and I’m sure Brian would be there. I would have to pin him down, and give his cute body a try during the worship orgy tonight.

I told the Addison and Suzette off, sending them scurrying to class; kissing was fine, but they needed their education. My class was on the second floor, and I had to walk past the main office to get to the stairs. I bumped into Jerri Milojevic as she came out of the office. I nodded at the girl who had a smile filling her flushed face. I knew that she was having an affair with Principal Havener; I was pretty sure my God was responsible. The scuttlebutt was that Mark had sent Jerri into Havener’s office so the principal could have sloppy seconds after He finished fucking her.

I swayed my ass as I walked up the stairs, feeling all the boys’ eyes on my rear as it writhed beneath my skirt. Most of my class was already waiting for me. Just two more periods and the day would be over. There were a few cute boys in this class, and my cunt began to moisten, that itch returning, making the last two periods just drag on and on. Both were civics classes and today I just didn’t have the energy to teach it.

Besides, soon the world would change as my Gods were becoming more and more powerful, so it seemed a little silly teaching civics when a new order would be established. Things had to change; people should be free to love whom they want, regardless of sex or familial relationship—so long as they were willing and mature enough, what was the harm? The world would be a lot happier if people weren’t so repressed, bottling up their passions, allowing them to fester unhealthily. That could lead to all sorts of problems.

Finally, the last bell rang and my students were eager to escape and go home, or participate in whatever afterschool activities they were involved in. Ten minutes later, Patrick slinked in, looking resigned to his fate.

“I am really sorry, I just don’t know what I did,” he protested, pushing up his silver-rimmed glasses that slipped down the bridge of his nose.

“Sit.” I pointed to a chair I placed next to my desk. He quickly obeyed, and I perched on my desk and kept crossing my tanned legs right in front of his face. His eyes bounced between my tits straining at my blouse and the inviting shadow between my shifting legs while I let him stew, both of us growing hornier and hornier; a bulge formed in his pants.

“Why did you do it?” I asked.

“I honestly don’t know why I’m here, Miss Blythe.”

“Do you want me to tell you what you did?”

He nodded.

I spread my legs wide open and I saw his face flush as he saw my naked, shaved cunt. “You got me so hot and bothered today,” I purred. “My pussy’s been dripping all day long.”

“I…” he stammered. “I’m not…I…um…”

“I need you to fix this,” I told him. “I can’t think straight unless I get your hard cock inside me.”

He just stared in disbelief at me. I kicked off my shoe, and rubbed my stockinged foot on his crotch, feeling his hard cock throb. I grinned as he sat frozen, not sure what to do. He was so yummy.

“Miss Blythe, we shouldn’t…”

His voice trailed off as he saw me unbuttoning my blouse, revealing my large tits cupped in a lacy, black bra. He licked his lips, his eyes riveted to my straining bosom. The bra clasped in the front; my breasts spilled out when I popped the fastener. I kneaded my right boob, pinching a fat nipple, then lifted the nub up to my lips.

I loved sucking my own nipples, and I could feel Patrick’s cock twitch beneath my foot—he loved it too. I slid off the desk and straddled his lap, my breasts brushing his smooth cheeks. He had just the hint of stubble, more peach fuzz then proper whiskers really, and they tickled the inner slopes of my tits. I stroked his face, then bent down and gently kissed him on the lips.

He just sat there as I kissed him, stiff as a statue. I broke the kiss and stared down at him. “You have to move your lips. Maybe nibble on mine. And don’t be afraid to use your tongue,” I instructed.

He did better the second time. His lips moved awkwardly, and his tongue was hesitant as he brushed my lips. I showed him how with my tongue, exploring his mouth almost to his tonsils while I wiggled my ass on his lap. I could feel him relax, and his hands began moving on my body, sliding up my sides and back, but never down to my ass; he just lacked the nerve to grab me in a more intimate spot, I realized.

So I grabbed one hand and pushed it down to my ass, and then brought his other hand up to my heavy breast. He stiffened when he felt my naked tit. I kept kissing him, feeling the tension relax from his body as his hand started squeezing my flesh.

“See, it’s not so hard,” I encouraged. He squeezed harder and I winced. “Not so hard. Go slow, learn what her limits are. Don’t just maul her tit like that unless you know that’s what she likes.”

“Sorry.”

“Be gentle, but confident, and you’ll get into any girl’s panties.”

His face lit up. “Really?”

I captured his lips with a third kiss, and his hand softly squeezed me, sliding around the tit. I cooed into his mouth when his fingers found my nipple. He was gentle as he played with the hard nub, the pleasure tingling through my body right down to my hungry cunt.

“Umm, very good,” I purred, then I gasped as he sucked my nipple into his lips. “You’re learning quickly!”

“You’re a great teacher, Miss Blythe!”

Finally, that itch in my cunt needed to be scratched, so I slid off Patrick’s lap. I pulled him up, kissed him passionately, and maneuvered him to my desk. I pushed him down onto the wooden surface, my cup of pens and pencils clattering to the floor again. I crawled on top, my heavy breasts dragging across his shirt; the cotton felt deliciously rough on my nipples.

“Are we really?” he asked, his eyes wide behind his glasses.

“Yes,” I hissed, fumbling at his pants button.

I pulled his cock out. He was short, but thick. I stroked his cock a few times, squeezing out a drop of pre-cum that I swirled about the sensitive head. Patrick moaned, squeezing his eyes shut. I guided him to my eager cunt, and sat down; his cock erupted inside me.

“Oh wow!” Patrick moaned as he came. “You feel so hot!”

He stayed hard despite cumming—wasn’t youth wonderful? I started to ride his cock, sitting up and thrusting my breasts forward. As I fucked him, I ground my clit into his pubic bone as his hands rubbed up and down on my silky thighs. Gods, he felt amazing inside me. The thrill of fucking my student and taking his virginity sent me tumbling over the edge into my first orgasm.

“Yes!” I moaned, bouncing faster on his cock. “You fucking stud! You made me cum!”

“Really? I did that?” The awe in his voice was so cute.

“Gods yes! Your cock feels wonderful inside me!” I licked my lips. “Make me cum again, stud!”

I pumped my hips harder on him, driving his cock as deep into my cunt as it could go. His hands gripped my hips, sliding back to squeeze my plump ass. My breasts heaved up and down, and his blue eyes were rooted to them. I grabbed one breast and brought it to my lips and swirled my tongue around my fat nipple. Gods, I loved doing that.

“Miss Blythe! Your pussy! Oh jeez!”

“Are you about to cum?” I demanded, leaning over him, letting my nipples brush his shirt.

“Oh yes!”

“Good! Cum in me!” I screamed.

One of his hands gripped a swaying tit, fingering my nipple, as I ground my clit into his crotch, every brush sparking pleasure like flint striking steel. A few blasts of his cum shoot inside me, not as much as the first one, but enough that I could feel it; I shuddered in delight as a second orgasm surged through me. Panting, I collapsed on top of him.

He kissed me gently. “That was the best thing in the world, Miss Blythe.”

“It was,” I agreed, kissing him back. “You rocked my world, Patrick.”

His grin was full of self-satisfaction—full of confidence. “I did, didn’t I.” I was so proud of him—now he was a man.

I stood up, feeling his cum leaking out of my pussy as I tucked my tits back into my bra cups, reclasping it. “Well, I hope you learned your lesson, young man. If you do it again, it’ll be another detention.”

“Promise?” he eagerly asked.

A rich laugh escaped my lips. “I promise.”