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For a list of all the Devil’s Pact Chapters and other stories click here

This is a revised version of the story that I published on Smashword starting back in 2014. It is rewritten with much-added material. However, I did have to age up some of the characters so no one is underage in this version.

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Click here for Chapter 10.

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Brandon Fitzsimmons – The Abyss

After decades of ruling in Hell, it took more than a pretty face to excite me.

It took blood and violence.

I sat on my brass throne and studied the latest woman brought before me for entertainment. She was newly dead, one of the poor, deluded worshipers of Mark and Mary condemned to Hell for believing they were actual gods. Hell glutted with those individuals. Some tried to form their own petty kingdoms. But I’d smashed them all.

Only the damn Eastern Alliance remained a threat to me. Lilith, the Ghost, and the Lord Mayor stood in defiance against me.

Soon they would all be crushed beneath my boot. I looked forward to grinding them into powdered bone.

The woman sobbed as my wife wielded her knife and flayed the bitch. Blood spurted from her wounds and spilled down her naked, pale skin. What parts she still had. My cock throbbed at the sight. Hannah worked her mouth up and down my cock. My concubine knelt naked before me as I watched the spectacle.

Beside Emi, Milly worked a knife on a different woman, disfiguring her permanently. Their screams of pain sang in my ear, inflaming my blood. I gripped Hannah’s black hair, fucking her mouth up and down my cock, using her.

“Make them howl,” I growled.

My wife grinned at me, blood splattering her small, naked breasts. She was a slender and petite woman, her almond-shaped eyes full of violent lust. Her victim howled. My cock throbbed and my balls tightened as I savored the woman’s agony.

Emi sliced.

My cock erupted. The pleasure slammed through me. That wonderful rush of euphoria. I growled out my triumph, watching the torment with eager eyes. Spurt after spurt pumped ecstasy through my body.

Hannah eagerly swallowed down my salty cum. My concubines were all eager to please me. Many had cried and howled beneath Milly and Emi’s blades for disappointing me. But never Hannah or Brenda.

They had been with me from the beginning.

The doors to my throne room threw open with a clatter of brass. The Samurai strode in dressed in his lacquered, red armor, his face covered by the demonic mask. He had grown with power as the commander of all of my armies. The man radiated danger as he strode towards me.

His three beautiful concubines followed him like loyal bitches. They were all beautiful and willowy, moving with demure grace even as their transparent kimonos displayed their youthful charms. Their faces were painted like geisha, adding to their serenity.

My cock throbbed in Hannah’s mouth.

None of the Samurai’s concubines gave a second glance at the tortured women. They had witnessed such atrocities before. The City of Brass was full of violent men who served me, and I gave them all the women they could want to rape and abuse.

“The army stands ready, great God-King,” the Samurai said as he knelt and bowed his head. His women followed likewise, falling to their knees with the grace of snowflakes and prostrating themselves before me.

I grinned. “Go and destroy them.” My fist clenched in Hannah’s hair. “Bring me back slaves by the thousands.”

“You shall deliver our Justice to them,” Emi purred, throwing the sobbing woman to the ground. A living woman would have died by now, but there was no death in Hell. Only eternal pain. Emi snapped her fingers, and her hulking hound walked forward.

The demonic beast had glutted on souls for decades. It had grown to the size of an elephant. The beast was a monstrous mastiff with black skin stretched over jagged bones. Its long, black tongue lolled out as its obsidian claws clicked on the brass. It reached the woman. She screamed once before its maw swallowed her whole in a single bite.

Emi stroked her pet and purred, “That’s my good boy.”

“Lead my armies,” I commanded the Samurai. “Deliver to me my enemies.”

“Your will, great God-King,” he answered.

He rose, turned, and marched out of the court with his three concubines flowing in his wake, their hips swaying. His women were always at his side. The Samurai feared for their safety. And rightly so, they were among the most beautiful creatures in Hell, still so innocent and pure.

Emi sauntered to me, blood dripping down her body, a vicious smile on her face. I pushed Hannah to the side. My wife, her thighs slick with excitement, mounted my throne, straddling me. She grabbed my cock as she lowered herself. I groaned as I felt the heat of her passions. They always blazed hot after she’d tortured someone. Her tight, hot cunt slid down on my cock.

I groaned as she undulated her hips and then slid her pussy back up my cock. My dick throbbed in her silky embrace, new pleasures building in me. She slid her arms around my shoulders and pressed her blood-smeared body against mine. Her lips nuzzled into my ear.

“Once the Samurai returns,” she whispered. “We have no further need of him.”

“I guess,” I panted, her pussy feeling incredible. Tight and hot and silky.

“I want his women. I want to play with them.” She let out a throaty moan. “Let his reward be their degradation at our hands.”

I grinned at her, the idea building pressure in my balls. To see those three finally despoiled… “That is why you’re my Queen.”

The Samurai grew too powerful anyway.

* * *

The Ghost

I lounged with my women. Their pretty bodies pressed up against me in a sea of flesh. I loved them all, sharing my touch as far as possible. It was a pleasant way to pass the weeks in Hell. An endless orgy. I spread myself across all my women, my cock slamming into a cheerleader’s tight ass before I rutted atop one of my daughters.

And the women all caressed me, licking and nuzzling, gasping and moaning.

My cock buried into Rhonda May’s cunt, her twin sister straddling her face. Marissa gasped and moaned, working her slim hips as Rhonda May licked her pussy. I pumped my pecker faster, loving the taboo defilement of incest.

I slammed into Rhonda May’s cootch as I watched her tongue slide through her twin’s folds. Marissa gasped, her small breasts jiggling. Her red hair danced about her face as she moaned out in wondrous delight.

“Ooh, yum,” I heard the naughty voice of my daughter Ophelia. Then I groaned as I felt her tongue licking at Rhonda May’s pussy and my pecker ramming into the redhead’s cunt.

It was such a sweet delight. She brushed my balls and made Rhonda May squeal into her twin’s pussy. My dick throbbed. I thrust it hard into Rhonda May while my daughter’s tongue caressed my shaft.

“What a damn fine daughter you is, Ophelia,” I groaned.

She giggled.

Beside us, the busty redhead Carla tribbed with our daughter Annabeth. They were both moaning and gasping, rubbing their hot cootches together while their breasts heaved. They both looked so hot as they loved each other.

Almost all of my harem was here. Only Marybeth, Ursula, and Gabriella were gone, the trio out watching the border.

I hoped Brandon would be content with all the land he’s swallowed to the west. But I knew his covetous gaze would return to my land. I’d grown in power over the last forty years, adding more followers and expanding the borders of the forest.

But Brandon’s empire dwarfed mine.

“Fuck her, Daddy,” cooed Ophelia. “I love the way your cock spreads her open. I can see so deep into her.”

“You heard her, Ghost,” moaned Marissa, her face twisting with pleasure. “Pound my naughty twin. Ooh, she’s goin’ to town on my twat!”

“She’s like a pussycat lappin’ at the milk saucer,” I groaned.

I pounded my hips faster, forgetting my problems in the sweet delight of Rhonda May’s permanent, young cunt. No one aged in Hell. It was paradise. All my women were as beautiful as they were forty years ago.

Boy, time seemed to pass in Hell.

I nuzzled Marissa’s small tits, kissing at the tattoo of the rose wrapped around her breast while slamming into her sister’s cunt. Rhonda May’s juicy pussy squeezed around me. Massaging me. Teasing me. Driving me closer and closer to my orgasm.

Ophelia’s tongue brushed my balls again. Her nose nuzzled into them before she went back to licking at Rhonda May’s pussy. She moaned and gasped into her twin’s twat, her jaw working with ferocity.

“Damn, just eat that twat,” I panted.

“She is!” Marissa moaned. She squirmed as she writhed on Rhonda May’s tongue. “Pound my sister’s twat, Ghost. The fuckin’ whore loves it.”

“We all love his pecker,” groaned Heather. The cute redhead had our daughter Donna nursing at her breast. Mother and daughter fingered each other.

It was such a wicked sight to see. Donna’s cheeks hollowed as she nursed at her mother’s teat, drinking that sweet breast milk. I slammed hard into Rhonda May’s twat as I watched that loving, nurturing sight.

It was inspiring.

The ache grew and grew at the tip of my pecker. I plunged it again and again into Rhonda May’s silky twat. Her flesh clung to my cock. Her cunt was forever young and tight. I grunted, slamming into her, my balls smacking into my daughter’s forehead.

“Ophelia, yes!” Rhonda May moaned, her pussy clenching down on my cunt. “Lick my asshole! Ooh, Ghost, your daughter’s such a naughty slut.”

“I reckon all my daughters are,” I grunted. “And I’m mighty proud of ’em.”

“Daddy!” groaned Ophelia from below. “Ooh, her asshole taste so naughty.”

The moans echoed around me as I slammed into Rhonda May’s pussy. My women were gasping, moaning. Some were fucking each other with dildos, ramming into each other with fake versions of my big pecker. Others were fingering or eating pussy or sucking on hot nipples.

I loved the sight. Loved the women.

They all fed me droplets of power as they pleased each other. I drank in those small tastes of delight as I reveled in fucking tight pussy. My cock ached and throbbed. The silky sheath gripped me, bringing me closer and closer to that moment of explosion.

My balls boiled. I buried my pecker into Rhonda May’s sweet cooch over and over. She groaned and gasped, loving my daughter’s rimjob. Marissa moaned, squeezing her youthful titties as she rode her twin’s face.

“Hot damn, but I love fuckin’ your tight snatch,” I panted, that pressure building. “Gonna flood your cooch with a big ol‘ load.”

“Do it!” moaned Rhonda May. “I’m getting so close. Ophelia’s got her tongue deep in my butt-hole.”

“Ram that dick into her cootch, Ghost!” moaned Marisa. She grabbed both her sister’s nipples and twisted.

Rhonda May whimpered. Her pussy clamped down on me as I drilled into her cunt. Then her snatch went wild. Her wonderful cootch spasmed about my cock. I grunted, savoring her orgasmic delight.

“Oh, she’s ready for it,” gasped Marissa, her face twisting with bliss. “She squealing into my cootch.”

“Bet she’s driving you wild,” I growled, my cock aching in the writhing heaven of Rhonda May’s twat. “I know she’s making me feel amazin’.”

“Oh, yes, Ghost!” gasped Marissa. Her head threw back. “I’m fixin’ to cum on your face, sweet sister.”

Marissa squealed and joined her sister in orgasmic delight. She bucked on Rhonda May’s face, the delicious scent of her pussy filling my nose. Between that and Rhonda May’s writhing cunt, I couldn’t take much more pleasure.

I rammed to the hilt in her cunt.

My balls erupted. My pecker spewed cum into Rhonda May’s cooch. The bliss pumped through me. Powerful blasts of rapture that rammed into my mind. I growled as her cunt convulsed around me, milking my dick.

I wanted to savor it forever. To never lose this feeling. It was incredible to dump my jizz into her pussy. Her writhing flesh worked out the jizz in my balls while she squealed and moaned into her twin sister’s twat.

“Yes, yes, yes!” she howled.

“Hot damn!” I grunted as I fired the last blast. My pleasure started to die.

I wanted more.

So I ripped out of Rhonda May’s cunt, leaving her swimming in my invisible seed. I grabbed Ophelia’s sandy-blonde hair. I pulled her mouth from Rhonda May’s asshole and rammed my pecker into my daughter’s mouth.

She sucked hard.

“Fuck our daughter’s hot, li’l mouth,” groaned Tammy as she pounded her wife Cheryl-Lynn with a big strap-on. They were nearby, both looking so hot.

I grinned as the pair writhed in passion. I remembered that Saturday afternoon I fucked them both in the park’s bathroom, knocking up Tammy with Ophelia. I had scared her boyfriend so bad he pissed his pants and ran off like a baby.

As I watched her ram that big dildo into Cherry-Lynn’s cunt, I savored Ophelia enjoying Rhonda May’s pussy cream on my dick. My daughter had a hungry mouth. My balls already tingled, ready to unload a fresh spurt of cum into her mouth.

“You have a purtee mouth, daughter,” I groaned as I gripped her hair. I slammed forward, fucking my dick in and out of her mouth. “You suck my pecker like a hungry calf at her mother’s teat.”

“I taught her well, Ghost,” Tammy panted. “Cum in our daughter’s mouth. Give the little slut what she craves.”

Ophelia moaned about my cock and sucked harder.

I savored my daughter’s hungry mouth. The incestuous thrill of slamming my cock into her grew and grew. Enjoying my daughter was a naughty, heavenly pleasure. My head swayed as this dizzy rush rippled through me. Ophelia made such wicked sounds as she loved me, making my balls tighten.

I couldn’t wait to cum in her. I would fire so much jizz into her sweet mouth and—

“Ghost!” Marybeth called out with urgency. “Brandon’s on the move. He’s marching on the Sulfur Plains.”

Fear clutched my heart as I stopped fucking Ophelia’s mouth. All the women froze, their moans silenced. I felt all their eyes flicking to my invisible form. Part of me wanted to slink away. But that was the old me. The selfish cocksucker who didn’t know what love was.

“Well,” I said, “then I reckon we best let our allies know and get the army in the field.”

“We’ll kick his ass,” Latonya cried as the Black girl stood up, her cheerleader outfit flashing about her body. “Brandon’s gonna learn he can’t mess with us!”

My women cheered with her.

* * *

Chantelle Paquet-Holub

I stood behind Lilith, my wife Lana beside me. Lilith faced the assembled might of our forces, all the monstrous daughters she had spawned in the year she ruled Seattle, and all the women we’d liberated from the brutality of men. More women, and men transformed into women, had joined us over the last forty years, along with the demonic hordes that had once belonged to Astarte.

“This Tyrant, who dares call himself God-King, marches upon us!” Lilith announced, looking glorious and beautiful, her silver hair falling about her naked shoulders. “This upstart thinks a man is better than women!”

A feminine roar of defiance exploded from the troops. The massed exultation rolled over me, heartening me.

“Well, he’s wrong!” Lilith shouted back. “Women have always been stronger than men. We’ve always had to baby them, care for them, coddle them. No more. We are free. This is a paradise where women can spend their eternity in peace. If Brandon thinks to take that away, we’ll show him just how fierce and powerful we are!”

“LILITH!” the women and monstrous daughters screamed.

“LILITH!”

“LILITH!”

Lilith spread her arms wide, drinking in their cheers and love. “Your mother leads you. We shall not fall against this bastard. We shall crush his armies, crucify his mongrel generals, and see Brandon and his whore-queen are flayed and punished for the next ten thousand years.”

“LILITH!”

“LILITH!”

I nodded, pleased with the speech. The energy from our followers flowed into Lana and me, their emotions charged. Lana and I returned it to our fighters, granting them weapons and armor, stiffening their spirits with our discipline.

“We shall wipe the scourge of men clean from Hell!” Lilith cried, throwing her arm up.

Perfect, Lana whispered in my mind.

Lilith turned from the podium and strolled to us. Cora fell in beside the Goddess. Lana’s hulking daughter had a fang-filled grin. She was eager for the violence. Manticores loved to fight. They lived for bloodshed.

Brandon’s army didn’t stand a chance.

“Did I do good?” Lilith asked when she reached us, a sycophantic smile on her face.

After forty years, no sign of our Goddess’s spine had ever returned. Mark had broken her thoroughly. Now she merely played at being a Goddess, a figurehead to keep the women and her daughters in line.

“You did wonderful, pet,” I purred, stroking her silver hair like she was my bitch.

“Thank you, Mistress,” Lilith moaned. She fell to her knees to lick at my toes.

“We don’t have time for that!” Lana snapped. “And stand up before someone sees you, cunt!”

I couldn’t believe I had once worshiped this pathetic creature. I had died for her. What a fool I had been.

“Yes, Mistress,” Lilith gasped, scrambling up. “I forgot myself.”

Cora snarled in disgust.

Lana smiled. “Let’s destroy Brandon.”

I couldn’t wait. So many women were brutalized by that man. Even now, our allies marched. The Ghost’s forces streamed out of his forest, and my daughter, Lamia, and her spouses led their army from Molech’s Oven.

Lana and I mounted our nightmares, black steeds with flaming eyes, and followed Lilith as she led our forces out of the Obsidian Mountains onto the Sulfur Plains. This time, we would defeat the Samurai and Brandon’s forces.

I couldn’t wait to get my vengeance. Even after forty years, I remembered the slave collar the Samurai put around my neck when I first died and arrived in Hell. The Samurai was as monstrous as the madman he served. He deserved to spend an eternity crucified, howling between those three whores who served him.

* * *

The Samurai

“It appears to be going well, my Lord,” Hikaru commented.

I nodded. I watched the battle from a large sulfur hill as I sat astride my nightmare. After forty years, I had never bothered to name the demonic steed. My three concubines surrounded me, demurely sitting in their saddles upon their terrible mounts.

“Their center is collapsing,” I observed. “The Ghost flees with his harem. His soldiers have lost heart.”

“They lack your discipline, my love,” Orihime complimented, nodding at me.

“No man has our Lord’s discipline,” Chisato said and then laughed, a pure, beautiful sound barely heard above the violence on the plains.

To the north, my forces had rolled around the flank and surrounded the Lilithites. They had been the fiercest fighters. They should have held the center. Now that the Ghost forces were fleeing, I could bring my center to bear on the Lilithite monsters and grind them to dust.

“It will not be much longer,” I said.

“The Lord Mayor’s forces still seem in good array,” Orihime said, peering to the south.

“Only because I have ignored them. They will not be able to hold out.”

“How wonderful, my Lord,” gushed Hikaru.

I heard the nervousness in her voice. What would happen when the greatest enemies to the God-King were routed? Would he continue to reward me, or would his Queen finally try to claim my women?

I should have fled years ago.

But there was no place to flee to. Hell was vast, but Brandon already controlled half of it. What remained were petty domains that did not have a tenth the strength of even the Ghost’s forces, let alone the God-King. There was no power in Hell that could challenge Brandon now.

It may take another forty years before Brandon finished conquering Hell, but he would have it all. I had to continue to keep his favor to protect my women.

“The Lilithites are breaking, my Lord,” Chisato called.

“But they are encircled. Only a few will escape.”

“The God-King will be pleased,” Orihime said, relief in her voice.

Hopefully.

* * *

Svitlana “Lana” Paquet-Holub

The metal collar snapped about my neck. Humiliation seethed inside me as the disgusting man groped my breast. Beside me, my wife knelt, her face stony, ignoring the band of metal about her neck. Lilith blubbered like a child, unable to maintain any poise as she was leashed like a bitch.

We had lost. All our strength had been useless against the Samurai’s soldiers. They moved together, acting almost as one entity. They were trained and disciplined. At first, when the monsters crashed into the lines, I thought we would easily win. We had so many daughters, so many monsters bred to fight, and the Samurai only had men.

But those men did not break.

Their spears took down the giant Re’em, winged lammasu, the manticores, the devers, the tir, the fire-breathing Tannimd. All were defeated. Then the Ghost fled like a coward, abandoning us to our fate. I bet he and his women turned invisible and even now were skulking off to his forest to hide like the weasels they were.

Someone yanked on my chain. I grunted, realizing the soldiers were ready to march us back to Brandon.

My hope died. My shoulders slumped.

Keep strong, Chantelle whispered in my mind as the tears began to trickle down my cheeks.

Why? A yawning despair opened up. Brandon won. Who can challenge him? We’ll be tortured for eternity.

You have to keep hoping. There always is a chance! Don’t give up, Lana. Chantelle took my hand and squeezed.

I didn’t squeeze back. She was wrong. There was no hope in Hell.

I plodded along behind the endless chain of prisoners, leaving behind the slaughtered daughters of Lilith as they howled in endless pain, their bodies dismembered. They would lie there in torment for eternity. My Cora was out there. She had been hacked down trying to protect us.

I would never see her again.

We marched without rest. The sulfur plains gave away to the red, blasted lands about Dis. My body ached, and my feet were cut to ribbons by sharp stones. I sobbed with every step. I no longer had the vast powers I had grown used to possessing. Like Mark had broken Lilith, the Samurai had broken me.

The brass walls of Dis loomed ahead. I trudged to it, my eyes focusing on the black portal into the city, a mighty maw aching to swallow us. I shuddered as we came closer and closer, my chains rattling with the hundreds of other women captured.

Soon, we marched through the gates, swallowed by the brass mouth of Brandon’s capital.

We would never escape here. We would be swallowed up and brutalized. Chantelle never let go of my hand. She never stopped whispering in my mind.

She was stronger than me.

I wished I could comfort her, but there was nothing left inside me.

* * *

Emi Yoshida

I watched the endless procession approach from the balcony of our Brass Palace. From here, the entirety of Dis was spread out before us, and beyond lay the blasted, red lands. Our victorious army, leading a train of women for my husband and me to play with, approached the city. I could see them clearly by warping the reality of Hell before me to act as a focusing lens. I did it without even thinking. An excited thrill went through me as I gazed at the women I most wanted to play with. Busty Orihime, Chisato, and Hikaru all rode at the head of the column beside the Samurai.

Forty years of denial ended today. My hand stroked the head of my dog. My fingers slide across his dry, leathery skin. He panted, his tongue flicking in and out. His breath was fetid with blood. I loved that scent.

“Once I’ve finished with them, you’ll get to eat them one by one,” I purred. “But it will be years before I tire of their beauty. Centuries.”

My pussy itched, a trickle of desire running down my leg. I would start with Orihime. I had come so close to possessing her all those years ago. My fingers clenched, eager to feel her soft flesh beneath my touch. I ached to experience her tongue licking my body. To taste her blood bathing my lips.

“Patience,” I purred. “Soon you’ll get to eat the Samurai. I want his women to watch as he dies. I want to savor their horror as they realize their fates.”

Brandon strode up, lust in his face as he stared at the approaching concubines. My husband was just as eager as I was for our new spoils. We ruled Hell. No woman should be out of our reach. We should enjoy every last one of them.

The column reached the city walls, the thick barrier obscuring my view of the lovely geisha. I focused on the maw-like main gate of Dis, waiting for the Samurai and his women to appear so I could gaze at their porcelain faces once more, picturing them twisted in agony.

My fingers tightened on my hound’s flesh as they appeared, the army passing into the city through the thick gates. The soldiers broke off in columns, dispersing to celebrate in their barracks. A horde of women awaited our soldiers’ lust.

My excitement grew, a fire billowing to life inside my slim body. I stroked my hound, savoring the disgusting feel of his leathery hide. He was eager. I had trained him for this moment for decades, glutting him on the souls of so many women to grow him to this monstrous size.

“Such beauties he brings.” Brandon smiled. “There’s Lilith in the front, and her whore priestesses right behind her.”

Most of the women prisoners were taken to the holding pens to be sorted. The prettiest would be sent to serve in the palace. Some would remain as our servants, and others would feed our bloodlust. A flash of Orihime, crimson spurting down her heavy breasts, burst into my mind.

I groaned, pressing my thighs together.

Brandon chuckled beside me. He so enjoyed watching me dispense Justice.

Now only the Samurai, his geisha, and a few choice prisoners approached the palace. Hooves rang on the brass street as they reached the palace steps. The Samurai and his women dismounted, their nightmares flashing away in bursts of fire, dismissed until needed. The Samurai still held the prisoner’s chains. He dragged them up the stairs towards us.

My excitement mounted. Brandon retreated to his throne, not as large as the one in the main audience hall, but a grand seat nonetheless. His favorite whores—Hannah, Milly, and Brenda—lounged at his feet, preening and purring, aroused by the impending violence. Milly had a dagger in her hand, tapping the flat edge against her breast.

I smiled; she was eager to butcher a woman for Brandon’s pleasure.

The Samurai led up five women and a man. My eyes fell on them. The man’s shoulders were straight, walking with a determined pride. He must be the Lord Mayor. Two women walked behind him, a Korean beauty, her slanted eyes fierce, and a violet-haired slattern with large breasts that seemed to defy gravity as they bounced and jiggled. A silver-haired woman—Lilith?—slinked behind a curvy blonde and a graceful, raven-haired beauty. The blonde’s eyes were downcast, her shoulders sagging, broken by her capture.

The Samurai reached the top, striding past where I lounged against my hound. The Samurai’s women kept their eyes forward, hovering near their husband. I squeezed my legs again, my juices trickling down my thighs.

“Great God-King,” the Samurai announced as he knelt before Brandon. The geisha bowed with their almost inhuman grace. Their yukatas stretched tight over their asses. I licked my lips. It was almost time for my fun. “I have returned victorious. Your enemies have been routed and defeated. I present the Lord Mayor, his two wives, Lilith, and her two high priestesses.”

“No Ghost?” Brandon asked.

“His army routed first, abandoning his allies. I ran them down, but the Ghost and his concubines eluded me. I have elements hunting them, but with his powers, I have little hope of finding him.”

“You broke his strength?” Brandon demanded.

“I did, God-King.”

Brandon strode forward, glaring at the Lord Mayor. “Well, well, well. You have risen far since I last saw you.”

The Lord Mayor didn’t answer.

“And your lovely wife Yun,” Brandon smiled, touching her cheek. “I remembered how much she screamed as Molech raped her.”

“Bastard!” the Lord Mayor shouted, lunging forward. Brandon waved his hand. The chain about the Lord Mayor tightened, crushing his airway. With a choking cry, he fell to his knees, clawing at the metal.

“Milly, here’s your toy,” my husband said, pointing at Yun as she knelt beside her husband.

Brandon retreated to his throne as Milly advanced, her dagger tapping on her thigh. Yun’s screams sang in my ears as Milly went to work. The other prisoners watched in horror at Milly’s cruelty. My pussy wept juices.

“Samurai,” Brandon said. “You have again crushed my enemies and delivered me such delightful spoils.”

“It is my honor to serve.”

Brandon glanced at me. “And such fidelity deserves its reward.”

I snapped my fingers, pointing at the Samurai’s back.

My hound growled, his claws clicking on the brass as he sprang, leaping in the air at the Samurai.

“My Lord,” Orihime cried in warning.

The Samurai rose and turned faster than a man in armor should be able to move. He shoved Orihime out of the way of my hound’s leap with one hand, the other drawing his katana in a blur. Chisato and Hikaru, his other concubines, darted behind him, gasping in alarm.

The sword sliced through the air and glanced off the leathery hide of my beast.

I laughed as my hound crashed into the Samurai, throwing him to the floor. I strode forward and seized Orihime as she scrambled to her feet. I yanked the busty beauty to me, my lips pressing on hers, claiming her mouth as mine.

She struggled in my arms, fighting me as my hands tore her yukata open, her large breasts spilling out. I found her heavy mounds, squeezing and kneading her spongy tits, her nipples hardening beneath my assault.

Over her shoulder, I watched the Samurai meet his fate. He was pinned beneath my hound, the beast growling, dripping saliva on the warrior’s demonic war mask. One of my beast’s paws was planted on the Samurai’s sword arm, the other on his chest.

I kissed harder, pinching Orihime’s nipple with one hand. My other thrust between her thighs. I shoved two fingers into her pussy, violating her sweet flesh. She shuddered, her body responding to my touch. I pumped my fingers in and out of her depths.

I broke the kiss and whispered in her ear. “I want you to cum while my beast devours your love,” I purred, my thumb grinding on her clit. “I want you shuddering in ecstasy as he dies.”

My beast snapped its jaws down at the Samurai’s face, catching his war mask and prying it off. It threw the twisted metal away and lunged again. The Samurai roared, thrusting his left arm up, catching the beast’s lower jaw and stopping its snapping bite. The Samurai strained as I pumped my fingers faster in and out of Orihime’s pussy.

“He struggles so vainly to survive, but it’s futile,” I moaned, slipping a third finger into the whore’s cunt. “You’ve seen my beast feast. He devours souls. Your love will be gone forever.”

“No!” Orihime roared, her hands pushing at me, trying to shove me away.

“My love,” Chisato cried out, and suddenly the helpless woman was clad in armor, a naginata in her hand.

She swung the polearm, the sword-like blade at the end crashing into my hound’s shoulder. Hikaru also became clad in armor, an asymmetrical bow, called a yumi, appearing in her hands. She pulled and released, an arrow feathering my hound’s eye.

The beast howled in pain, lunging back from the Samurai, trying to use its great paw to pull out the shaft.

“What?” I demanded. “How?”

“Do you think our Lord did not see your lust-filled eyes?” Orihime hissed. I gasped as she planted a knife into my stomach.

It hurt.

I screamed, stumbling back, staring down at the hilt of the dagger protruding from my guts, a triumphant smile on Orihime’s face. How did she hurt me? I had so much power. Brandon half-rose on his throne, gaping in astonishment.

For forty years, no one had defied us. My brain struggled to work as I tried to pull the dagger from my guts.

My hound roared in pain again, the Samurai’s sword cutting through its paw as the warrior rose.

“Kill him!” Brandon screamed.

Milly, splattered in Yun’s blood, charged at the Samurai. His sword flicked. Milly’s head went flying, howling in pain the entire time. Her head bounced and rolled, stopping at my feet as her body twitched and convulsed.

Fire flashed. A nightmare appeared. With ease, the Samurai mounted. Chisato and Hikaru, their armor vanishing, leaped easily onto the mount’s back, clinging to the warrior. “You feckless bastard!” the Samurai bellowed. “After all I have done, all the enemies I have conquered for you! I built your power, and you repay my service with death?”

“I am the God-King of Hell!” Brandon bellowed. “I will do as I please!”

The Samurai reached up, an iron collar flashing into being about his throat for a moment. With a mighty heave, he broke the chain of his servitude. He was no longer bound to us. The Samurai’s face was flinty stone as he stared at me.

“Brandon!” I cried out as he spurred his horse nightmare forward, galloping at me.

Fear gripped my belly. His blade, dripping Milly’s blood, raised up to attack me. I fell into a ball, curling to protect myself and ignoring the flare of pain in my stomach. But instead of attacking me, he scooped up Orihime and hauled her before him, perching her on the front of his saddle. The nightmare vaulted over me and galloped down the stairs.

“Guards!” Brandon roared, striding to me. “Close the gates! Stop him!”

“Yes, God-King,” a soldier said, trembling. He gaped at the fleeing Samurai.

Why wasn’t the soldier moving? Our men were disciplined, trained. They obeyed orders without thought. Without hesitation.

“Go!” my husband bellowed, bending down to rip out the dagger from my gut. My flesh healed with my powers.

The soldier jumped then he tripped as he darted forward. He looked so uncoordinated and…

“He was connected to them,” I whispered, the realization hitting me.

“What?” Brandon demanded, grabbing Milly’s screaming head and shoving her back onto her body.

“The Samurai was connected to our troops. They were chained to him. He broke that connection. We just lost the discipline of our army.”

Brandon’s face darkened. “Get him back,” he roared at the stumbling guard. “Now!”

“I… How?” the soldier asked.

Brandon’s fist slammed into the guard’s face. The idiot soldier’s head exploded like an overripe melon. My husband roared again, seizing the still-heaving body and hurling it down the palace’s stairs. Murderous rage possessed my husband, and his fists rained down on the prisoners, beating all of them as the Samurai galloped out of our city, escaping into the red rocks. I picked up the dagger Orihime stabbed me with and turned to the prisoners.

Justice needed to be dispensed. I advanced on the black-haired priestess—Chantelle—as she cradled her blonde wife. Chantelle fixed me with defiant eyes. Her screams were satisfying as I put them out.

She would do until I could get my hands on Orihime again.

* * *

June 6th, 2054 – Mary Glassner – South Hill, WA

“Do not touch our daughter!” I commanded, steel in my voice.

Mark lay on the ground, his eyes staring up in pain. I held his hand, kissing his knuckles as the life slowly left his body. What had happened to my poor daughter to drive her to kill us? I could see the love in her eyes as she stared down at Mark. Chase’s eyes widened at the horror of what she’d done to her father.

To my husband.

“We all die when he does!” Candy, Sam’s whining wife, objected. “If none of you will kill the bitch, then I’ll—”

“You will do nothing!” 51 roared.

51, our chief bodyguard, struggled with Candy in the background. Her gun barked and Candy fell back, clutching her stomach. Sam fell to Candy’s side, cradling her dying wife. That didn’t matter. We were all about to die.

Our daughter used the Mispach dagger on Mark. He was dying. The only way to save him was to kill Chase. I couldn’t do that. And neither could Mark. We’d finally found the one thing we couldn’t do. The one selfish act we couldn’t commit.

I squeezed his hand tighter.

Chase knelt on the other side of Mark, her blue eyes swimming with tears. “I’m so sorry, Daddy,” she sobbed, such anguish in her voice.

My heart broke for her. Mark and I had failed our daughter.

“It had to be done,” she continued, tears now spilling down her face. “Your tyranny had to be stopped. You wouldn’t listen to me. Power corrupted you.”

Mark looked from me, then to our daughter, his face contorting in pain. His lips struggled to move, but he finally whispered: “I… forgive… you.”

Mark died.

I felt it in my soul. Forty years ago, I’d made a Pact with Lucifer. I chained my life to his. As my husband’s soul fell into Hell, he pulled me down with him. The world vanished in a powerful tug as I joined him in death.

I was falling, falling, falling.

Into darkness.

Then darkness gave way to heat, to fire.

A searing roil washed over me. I opened my eyes to stare out at the blasted landscape of blood-red rocks. Anguished wails echoed, the damned screaming from a city of brass built on a hellish plain dotted with rifts that smoked sulfurous fumes.

Mark’s arms wrapped around me, pulling me close. I relaxed slightly at his presence, at the feel of his arm around me.

“Together forever,” I whispered.

Mark snapped a collar made of red, pitted iron from his neck. A matching chain crumbled away as it led off into the distance: his pact with Lucifer. I found my own collar, stroking it with my fingers. It felt weak, powdery. I seized it with strong fingers.

It crumbled into rust as I ripped it free.

Mark and I had far more power than Lucifer ever possessed. We had the power of all the greater demons that had escaped Hell: Lucifer, Lilith, Molech, Astarte, Dagon, and more.

More souls appeared around us. When Mark died, he dragged more than me down into Hell: He dragged all those bound to us by the Zimmah ritual. Our sluts, the bodyguards, our servants, our families, and our closest friends. An army appeared on the hill around us, ready to fight for us as fervently in death as they had in life.

Those sluts who’d died before us greeted Mark and me with enthusiasm and kisses. It was wonderful to hold Karen, April, and Xiu again while Chasity knelt with the bodyguards. I never forgot the day Chasity died to save my life. Noel, surprisingly, was beside her.

“I missed you all,” Mark told April, Karen, and Xiu after we’d savored our reunion. “You were never forgotten.”

“Thank you, Master,” Xiu smiled, her eyes misty with emotion. “We swore to serve you forever.”

I looked around, seeing my mother and father, my sisters and their families, the children the sluts bore for Mark. But I didn’t see our daughter. Where was Chase?

Why hadn’t our daughter appeared?

She was bound to us by the Zimmah ritual. I saw it in her eyes. She expected to die with us. I looked up to the howling skies. Was our daughter up there alone, surrounded by our corpses and crushed by her guilt? I concentrated on her, and almost wept as I had a vision of her.

She was in so much pain.

Mark and I had failed her. We’d conquered the world, given mankind a utopia, but we could never make our daughter happy. No, we could have made her happy. All we had to do was give up our power. We were selfish. We wanted to hold onto our dominion, so we deluded ourselves that she would come around eventually.

There had to be a way to help her. We would help her.

I could sense Mark’s thoughts, our souls so linked together and the barriers of reality so thin here in Hell, his emotions bled through our bond into me. I read his powerful thoughts: Chase is a better person than I ever was, he thought. I hoped one day I could tell her that; then, maybe, we could be a family again.

We will, I sent telepathically to comfort him and to comfort myself. She just needs time. And we have all the time in the universe now.

I felt better at that. Between Sam and Karen, I knew a way would be found to help Chase.

“What are your commands, Master?” Violet asked as she held her wife, Cindy.

“We’re ready to kick some ass!” Alison shouted, her face eager. Our first slut had conjured a machine gun, red flames flickering across the black metal. How did she do that?

Mark glanced at me, his hand squeezing my shoulder, then he gazed out at our family and followers. For a split second, black chains flashed around all their necks, connecting them to Mark and me.

The boyish grin that had won my heart appeared on Mark’s lips. “Well, I’ve heard it said that it’s better to rule in Hell.”

I grinned as I stared out at the City of Brass in the distance.

To be continued…

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