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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 The Warlock’s Passion, Chapter 7.

Click here for Chapter 3.

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Wednesday, March 19th, 2014 – Jane Yoshimori – Tacoma, WA

“Very beautiful,” the Goddess complimented me as she examined her portrait I’d just finished. It was one of several she’d commissioned from me since that terrible day in February when those demons attacked and…

I pushed those frightening memories out of my mind and focused on the painting. It was a beautiful, and erotic, depiction of the Goddess lounging on a divan, her auburn hair falling about her perfect breasts, her stomach round, pregnant with her divine child.

“Thank you,” I murmured, blushing.

Being around the Goddess was heady. She was radiant. She glowed with an inner perfection no other woman could possess. All I wanted to do was fall to my knees and worship her with my mouth and tongue, tasting her sweet nectar.

I’d worshiped her many times in the month I’d stayed at the Murano Hotel. Part me hoped to enjoy that delight again. To feast on her pregnant snatch, on the pussy that my God had bred. A union of the divine grew inside of her.

“Yes, I know just where this will hang in the mansion,” she said, patting my arm.

I shivered, my heart bursting in delight. My paintings would adorn Their mansion when construction was finished in April. I had painted three others: another portrait of the Goddess, one of the God, and one of Them both locked in a passionate embrace. Painting the God was as much fun as the Goddess. Worshiping Him was amazing. He was a wonderful lover, more forceful than the Goddess. His cock always felt magical no matter which of my holes He used.

It always made me feel so special knowing my body was worthy of the Gods’ pleasure. It was such an intoxicating feeling. I never wanted to leave their service.

She placed Her hands on my shoulders. “Just wonderful.” Her lips brushed my neck as Her pregnant belly pressed against the small of my back. “Have you considered my offer?”

“I have.”

“And?”

“I would love to be one of your servants.”

I was already temporarily bonded to the Goddess. My first night, after that dreadful attack, I had drunk the Divine mix of the Goddess and Her mortal father’s seed, binding me too Her. It was a temporary measure to ensure I couldn’t be used by evil to harm Them. If I asked for it, I would be freed. But I didn’t want to. I wanted to serve Them.

How could I not?

They were Gods. I’d worshiped Them since the day They conquered the false god Brandon. My painting immortalizing their victory, the Goddess wreathed in flames and standing on the loathsome pretender’s neck had earned me my position in Their service.

“Good.” She turned me around, cupped my face, and planted a kiss on the lips.

I melted against Her. Ecstasy thudded through my veins. I quivered, devouring the taste of her. My hands caressed Her pregnant belly. I whimpered into Her mouth as I wiggled from side to side. Heady pleasure rippled through me.

I almost swooned when She broke the kiss.

“You will be allowed to paint whatever you want during your free time,” She said.

“Thank you, my Lady.” That’s how the maids all addressed Her. “I am honored.”

“Report to Pearl. She will have your uniform.” She smiled at me, the sight dazzling. “Tomorrow will be your first day as our maid.”

“Right away, my Lady.”

“She’ll have a special task for you.”

I hurried through the hotel and soon found Pearl. She was a beautiful woman, mature and lovely. In her thirties, she was the oldest of the maids. She always had a motherly smile grazing her lips whenever I passed her in the hotel.

Today, she beamed at me when I found her.

“Welcome, Jane,” she said, holding a bundle in her hands. “Here is your uniform. Wear it with pride.”

“I will.” I clutched the bundle to my excited chest. “I’m so happy to be of service.”

She gave me a kiss on the mouth. It was delicious, though not as intoxicating as the goddess. I still enjoyed the older woman’s mouth on mine. My eighteen-year-old body trembled as the molten heat bubbled through my body.

“You’re free until tomorrow morning,” Pearl said after breaking the kiss. “I’m rooming you with Karishma. Room 617. There’s a keycard in the bundle. Go move your belongings there. Dinner’s in an hour.”

“Thank you, Miss Pearl.”

A smile broached her motherly face. “You’re just as cute as my Cindy.”

“Yes, she is,” Violet said as she strolled by us.

“Holy Slut,” I said, bowing to the girl who served the Gods in such a direct and intimate fashion. She had brown pigtails framing her cute, innocent face.

Violet patted my cheek as she glanced at Pearl. “Speaking of Cindy…” she said, a hopeful look filling her eyes. “Is she around?”

“Your girlfriend is cleaning the pool,” Pearl answered. “And she’ll be in a lot of trouble if she doesn’t finish.”

“I’ll see she finishes.” Violet smiled. “Eventually.” Then the Holy Slut scurried off, her schoolgirl skirt swirling about her thighs, flashing peeks at her naked rump beneath.

“Well, you can skedaddle, child,” Pearl said to me, amusement playing on her lips. “I have to oversee dinner.”

“Yes, Miss Pearl.”

I didn’t sleep well that night, and not because Karishma found my petite body irresistible, though the Indian woman’s appetite kept us both up late. I was just so nervous for my first day. I wanted to be the perfect maid for the Gods.

When morning arrived, I felt bleary eyed. But I forced myself to bound to my feet and dress in my uniform for the first time. I loved it. Like all the others, I wore a slutty, French maid’s outfit. The skirt was black with ruffled-lace petticoats underneath that made it puff out and sway when I walked. The white bodice was transparent, my little breasts bleeding through. Finally I was dressed and ready to serve, a cap perched on my head.

I admired my features in the mirror, my creamy-olive, Asian face was framed by my straight, blue-black hair. I pursed my lips as I preened. I turned and cocked a look over my shoulder, seeing how the skirt feel to barely cover my rump.

I loved it.

“You’re a little sex kitten,” purred Karishma. She hugged me from behind and kissed at my cheek. She wore an identical outfit, though while I looked like a sexy waif, she looked like a sexy bombshell. “Let’s go serve the Gods.”

I nodded my head.

All the maids gathered in the main dining room to receive our daily assignments. One lucky maid was given the job of cleaning the Gods’ suite, which involved administering the God’s morning blowjob. Abigail received that honor, and she playfully stuck her tongue out at her girlfriend, Tomoyo, the other Japanese maid beside myself.

One by one Pearl handed out the assignments until only I remained.

“I have a special job for you in room 205,” Pearl answered, handing over a master card key. “You are to clean the room and the person occupying it. Do whatever the woman requires.”

I nodded my head.

“Tell the woman that you are a gift from the Goddess, fulfilling a promise Mary made to her. Okay?”

“Yes, Miss Pearl.”

“Remind this woman that the Gods love her and miss her.”

“I will,” I answered, trying to sound more confident than I felt. It was my first day, and it sounded like they wanted me to work a miracle. “Um… who is this woman?”

“Someone grieving. Someone lost.” Pearl gave me a soft smile. “You have to be her light.”

I swallowed. Me?

“Don’t worry.” Pearl rubbed my arms, a motherly smile on her lips. “Mary choose you for this, and the Goddess would never give you a task that you were not equal to.”

I nodded. She was right. I could do this. I just wished my bubbling stomach believed me.

Holding my sketchpad with one hand, and a bucket filled with cleaning supplies in the other, I marched to the elevator and went a single floor.

Room 205 was to the left. I thrust the keycard into the lock. It whirled and clicked, a green light appearing. I twisted the doorknob and… A ripe stench washed over me. I wrinkled my nose and, with trepidation, entered.

“H-hello?” I called.

No one answered.

A short hallway led past the bathroom to the beds. The curtains were drawn tight, baring the spring sunlight. The only illumination came from the main hallway flooding past me, my shadow stretching into the darkened room. I took another step into the room, the door swinging shut behind me. The light dwindled, then vanished.

My heart thudded so loud as I took a second step down the hallway.

“I-is anyone here?”

I found the light switch. Flicked it.

I blinked against the sudden light, my gaze sliding over the room and…. It was messy. Plates were strewn about with half-eaten food left on them. Several blankets lay in a pile on the floor. I took another step, seeing the far bed completely stripped of its blankets. A fourth step. A pair of dark legs were stretched on the nearer bed. A fifth step.

A Middle-Eastern woman sat naked on the bed, her hair a tangled mess, her eyes red with tears. A present lay on her lap, unopened, covered by red wrapping paper dotted with cupids. The woman kept staring at it, her eyes dead.

“H-hello.”

The woman didn’t look up.

“I’m Jane. I’m a new maid, and…” I frowned, there was something familiar about her.

Balim…. That strange word echoed in my head. I cocked my head and then gasped. “Y-your the bodyguard that frisked me that day at the art museum!”

I shuddered. That had been a terrifying day. Those terrible demons had burst out of the ground and attacked us by throwing spikes of obsidian. The Goddess had hurled fire at them and whipped up a great wind to keep them back until the soldiers arrived.

I spent the fight cradling the bodyguard’s head on my lap, watching her life pour out of her from the four-inch wide hunk of stone impaled in her chest. It was horrifying to experience. I thought she was going to die.

That same woman sat on the bed staring at me, a collar tight about her neck. She was 24. Her dark eyes were completely devoid of any emotion. She stared at me for what felt like an eternity, then her gazed drifted back down to her present. I frowned. The cupids and hearts decorating it made me think it was a Valentines Day present.

It had been Valentines Day when the demons attacked.

“I-I’m here to clean your room,” I said.

The figure shrugged.

“And…” I swallowed. “Clean you.”

She didn’t respond.

“I’m also a gift… From the Goddess. She loves you, 24, and misses you.”

“A gift,” 24 rasped. Then a dark, almost hysterical chuckle bubbled from her throat. “Another gift that I can’t open.”

“You were very brave that day,” I said, bending down to pick up the blankets. They reeked. I threw them down the hallway towards the door. I’d get her fresh blankets and have these laundered. “You threw yourself in front of the Goddess and took the wound meant for her.”

She didn’t answer.

I swallowed and, not sure what else to do, I busied myself with throwing garbage into a black trash bag, plates and all. They were… fuzzy. Her dark eyes were on me the entire time. I cleaned the room as best I could, save for the bed she sat on. I scrubbed the bathroom until it sparkled and wiped down all the furniture in the bedroom. As I cleaned, I was starting to wonder if the room was haunted. It seemed there was some figure moving about, brushing me, disturbing the air more than simple drafts could explain.

The spirit of 24’s dead lover?

It was probably just my overactive imagination; 24’s dead gaze was unnerving me.

With everything else clean, that left only the beds. I left the room to get clean linen from the supply closet and made the second bed. I smoothed the sheets and plumped the pillow, my body trembling. I had nothing left to do. I had to get her to move.

The Goddess believed I could do this.

With a deep breath, I turned around and faced 24.

“You need to get up so I can…”

She gave me a dead look that spoke volumes, my words trailing off. I wanted to shrink beneath the strength of that gaze. To wither and melt away. I shook my head. I couldn’t do that. I had to be strong. I couldn’t let my Goddess down, or this woman.

“You just can’t sit there all day,” I said, trying to sound tough, but my voice squeaked. “I was ordered to clean you and your room.”

Another look.

I frowned, thinking what to do next. My eyes drifted to the package on her lap. Her fingers stroked it as she stared at me, her face set. It was weary defiance. A sort of numb expression that spoke she wouldn’t do anything because she just didn’t care.

And yet… she cradled the package.

“Who’s the gift from?” I asked.

Her shoulders hunched as she hugged the present tight in her lap.

“I’m not going to take it from you,” I took a step closer to her bed. “I just want to give you a clean sheets.”

She didn’t answer.

Sighing, I grabbed my sketchpad. I had to think of a better way to handle this. I couldn’t fail at my first assignment. There had to be a way to get her to move. I started drawing her. I often found that when I sketched, and didn’t really focus on my art, my mind would wander and I would often find the solution to problems.

I couldn’t manhandle her; she was bigger than me. Plus, she was a trained cop. I remembered how she had easily controlled me when she had searched me at the museum. She had been so strong as her fingers penetrated my ass and pussy, stirring me up and making me cum. She’d dominated me, forced me to submit to her lusts disguised as a simple pat-down.

It was one of the best cums of my life. She forced me to live out all those dark fantasies trapped in the depths of my soul. The ones I had been too afraid to let anyone know. I was a girl—we weren’t supposed to have deviant desires like a guy.

I cocked my head as my mind drifted. My charcoal pencil scratched as I drew her. Even dirty, there was a beauty to her: plump lips, dark eyes, round breasts, curvy hips, and gorgeous, sleek legs that just seemed to go on forever.

I worked rough at first, blocking out her shape before I would add the details. My hand almost moved on their own as I considered other options. I didn’t have a lot of them. Not on my own. I’d have to find a way to convince her to move.

I needed to understand you.

“What are you doing?” she asked after a while.

“Immortalizing the squalor you are sitting in,” I said absently, my mind focused on the problem. “It’s a great study. You capture self-pity perfectly. I—”

“Wallowing!” Anger burst out of her. It animated her face. “You think I’m wallowing?”

I blinked. Emotion. Interesting. “If you’re not wallowing, what are you doing?”

“Grieving!”

“For?”

She glared at me. “Stop drawing me!”

“Then let me do my job,” I answered, continuing to sketch. “And don’t move. Keep staring down at that gift. You are perfectly capturing self-indulgent pity.”

Her face darkened. “You don’t understand!”

“No,” I answered.

“You’re just one of the whores running around here.”

“Yeah.” My cheeks burned; I still wasn’t used to being called a whore.

She shifted, staring at me. “Are you blushing?”

“Yes.” I looked down at my sketchpad. “I’m new here…”

“You said you were my gift?” She examined me. “I remember you. Mary commanded me to watch over you carefully. She told me I could do whatever I wanted to you, balim.”

My cheeks felt like they were on fire.

“Such a pretty mouth. Jan would have loved to piss in it.”

My eyes widened. I had witnessed the God’s sister piss in the mouth of my fellow artist that day, before the demons attack. I shuddered at the memory. I didn’t see it, too busy eating the Goddess’s pussy, but I heard it. It sounded so degrading and humiliating to be forced to drink another person’s pee. I glanced up from my sketchpad and saw something stir in 24’s dark eyes as they looked at me.

“Jan and I would love to share pretty girls like you, balim.”

Why did she keep calling me balim? She called me that the day she frisked me.

“We’d take them into our shower, force them onto their knees, and take turns pissing into their pretty, little mouths.”

24 shifted on her bed, setting the gift on the nightstand. I swallowed, trying to concentrate on my sketch and ignore the way she looked at me. I squeezed my thighs together, my pussy felt like it was on fire. There was something in her tone, the way she looked at me, that… excited me.

It reminded me of the frisk. How she had used my body. How she had made me shiver and shudder in ecstasy on those fingers.

“You’re my gift, right?”

“Yes, I—”

She sprang at me. I gaped as she tackled me to the bed, my sketchpad flying out of my hand. Her dirty, black hair fell in my face as she stared down at me. I squirmed beneath her, my heart thundering in my chest. The touch of fear rippling through me added a… breathy excitement to this situation.

“My pretty, little balim. I could just eat you up,” she purred, her smile growing across her dusky face.

“Okay,” I squeaked.

She stood up and seized my hand. I yelped as she yanked me to my feet. I stumbled after her as she marched towards the hallway. I didn’t resist her. I was told to obey her. My eyes fell on her naked rump. She had a cute ass.

“W-what are we doing?” I asked.

“You’re supposed to wash me, right?”

“Yes,” I groaned as she dragged me into the bathroom.

She turned on the shower and shoved me in. I banged into the wall, the cold water splashing my body, soaking my uniform. My back throbbed from the impact. I trembled as she eyed me. Her eyes had a strange passion in them. Despite the water growing hot, and steam billowing around me, I shivered.

What was she going to do? “P-please.”

“Please, what, balim?”

“D-don’t h-hurt me…”

She stepped into the shower, I shrank back, but there wasn’t much room. I tried to slide past her and escape, my heart thudding, and… My pussy was strangely on fire. The fear and exhilaration mixed together inside me, giving birth to an excited heat. I was completely at her mercy. She could do whatever she wanted to me, and no one was going to stop her.

24 grabbed my arm as I tried to flee. She twisted it around behind my back. I gasped, pain flaring in my elbow. She shoved me face first against the wall, pressing her warm body against my back. I trembled, feeling her against me.

“Such a sweet balim,” she purred. “I need to search you. Mary commanded me to give you surprise searches whenever I felt it necessary.”

Her free hand reached around my waist, sliding across the soaking fabric of my dress, reaching down and lifting the sodden skirt and petticoats up, then plunged between my thighs. Her fingers felt electric as she slid up my leg, creeping nearer and nearer to my aching pussy. My breath came in ragged gasps while hers came in fast intervals, gusting hot across my neck.

I whispered. I grew hotter and hotter with every moment. I squirmed, my cunt itching. Her fingers climbed higher, only inches away. Almost there. I whimpered, my face contorted in excited bliss. She brushed me, stroking along my snatch.

“24,” I groaned, electricity shooting through me.

“Let’s see if you have any contraband shoved up your cunt,” she hissed, then shoved three fingers inside me.

I gasped as pain and pleasure rushed through me. Her fingernails scraped at my sensitive flesh, and yet they felt wonderful as they buried deeper and deeper into me. She ignited all the thousands of pleasure receptors in my pussy.

It jolted through me. I squeezed down on her, my toes curling in my soaked stockings. My sodden clothing clung to me as I shivered. My nipples throbbed pressed against the shower wall, rubbing on the tingling fabric covering them.

“Such a wet balim,” she hissed in my ear. “Do you like my fingers searching your cunt?”

“Yes!” I gasped.

“Because you’re a dirty whore?”

“I am!” I moaned, her fingers driving me wild as they pumped in and out of my cunt.

My pussy drank in her fingers as they jammed into my depths. Her three digits stretched me open. My pleasure built swift. I groaned, loving this. There was something so wild about just surrendering to her strength, to letting her use me and enjoying what she did to me.

She plundered her fingers into me so deep. Her thumb slid out along my taint and found my asshole. I gasped as she circled my asshole. She stimulated me, sending hot ripples through my body that only built my excitement.

“Mmm, what do you have in here, balim?” she asked, her voice a purring caress.

“Only one way to know,” I whimpered, my pussy clenching on her plunging fingers and drinking in that wonderful delight. “You have to search me!”

She let out a purring moan, her thumb pressing harder against my asshole. I groaned as she popped inside of me. Her thumb was thick as it reamed into my bowels. My eyes fluttered. My head shook from side to side as I welcomed her searching both my holes.

She plundered my asshole and my pussy. The bodyguard drove me wild with her thrusting fingers. I groaned, my head tossing back and forth. I didn’t want this to end, but I knew it had to. It couldn’t last forever.

Which was such a shame.

“24!” I moaned, my orgasm swelling faster and faster.

“Mmm, yes, need make sure there’s nothing in your holes, balim,” 24 moaned. “Just keep purring for me as I search.”

“I will!” I gasped.

It was incredible. Both those digits reaming me, teasing me. My eyes widened. My body shivered. I groaned as she plundered those fingers deep and fast into me. They buried into my asshole again and again. They made me shiver. My squeezed shut.

“Keep searching me!” I panted, trembling on the verge of eruption. “Don’t stop until you’ve made sure there’s nothing hiding inside me!”

Her tongue licked my ear. “Are you going to cum?”

“Uh-huh!” Her fingers were driving me wild, my orgasm building like a squall sweeping swiftly across a calm sea, churning the waves to violent whitecaps.

“Purr, my sweet balim! Let me hear you purr!”

“Yes, yes!” I gasped. “I’m about to cum! Oh, Gods, yes! Your fingers are stirring me up! Frothing my passion! I can’t take any more!”

Her tongue danced in my ear, sending shudders down to the squall building inside me. The storm broke and frothed through my body with pleasure. My holes spasmed about her three fingers and her thumb, drinking in those wild delights.

I spasmed, pinned between her and the wall, gasping and crying out. Such wonderful pleasure coursed through me as I stood there helpless to stop her molestation. My asshole spasmed about her thumb, my pussy convulsed about her fingers. The rapture melted my brain.

It peaked in me. I trembled for a moment, her fingers and thumb jamming deep into my holes, then I collapsed against the wall. I panted, my eyes fluttering. My entire body shook from the power of my orgasm.

“Oh, wow!” I groaned. “Oh, yes.”

“For being a good balim you get a reward,” she purred, pulling her fingers out of my asshole and pussy.

“Reward?” I panted.

She released me and took a step back. “On your knees.”

I shuddered and turned around. She grasped my shoulders, squeezing hard. I winced. She pressed down. I didn’t fight her, surrendering to her and kneeling before her. I came face to face with her pussy covered by a thick bush matted down by the shower spray.

She grasped my long, blue-black hair and pulled my face straight towards her pussy. I could smell her tangy musk, that wonderful scent of pussy. She ground her hot cunt against my mouth, smearing her flesh on my lips. Then she pulled my face away, denying me the chance to lick her snatch.

“Open wide,” she commanded.

I knew what she wanted. Her words about what she and Jan used to do to pretty maids like me echoed in my mind.

“Don’t close your mouth, balim. I want you to savor every last drop of your reward.”

Trembling, I remembered that the Goddess had given me to 24, so the bodyguard could do whatever she wanted to me. I surrendered to 24’s power and… A thrill raced through me, tingling my clit and nipples. I opened my mouth, moaning, ready for my reward.

She purred as she stared down at me, her dusky breasts beading with water, her nipples hard. She had such a hunger in her eyes. Then her face clenched. She wiggled her hips and let out a long, slow moan.

She pissed.

The acrid fluid struck me in the face. Urine splashed over my features, stinging my eyes and filling my nose with the naughty scent. She shifted her hips, guiding the hot stream to my open mouth. Urine splashed on my tongue and filled my mouth in moments.

This was so humiliating. It made me tremble. My pussy was on fire. Despite just cumming, my traitorous hole was begging for more attention. I swallowed her piss. I let her golden drink flow down my throat to warm my belly.

I whimpered and opened my mouth wide again.

She flooded my mouth with more piss. My right hand shot down between my thighs. I shoved them up beneath my sodden skirt and petticoats. I couldn’t stop myself from rubbing my clit in furious circles, pleasure sparking through me.

She moaned, taking such pleasure in degrading me. I let her. I knelt here and let it happen. I masturbated as I gulped down more of her warm, salty piss. I was such a slutty think. Such a kinky whore to enjoy this.

A shudder passed through me. Another climax screaming through my body as I swallowed mouthful after mouthful of her piss, the scent filling my nostrils. I never came so fast in my life. It swept through me. This hot wave of ecstasy that drowned my mind as she drowned my mouth in urine.

“Drink it!” she hissed. “That’s it! I love it when you little bitches drink my piss!”

Every time I swallowed, my mouth closed. It caused the urine running down my neck to soaked the front of my already drenched uniform. I could feel the heat of her piss reaching down to my belly. I kept massaging my clit. My pussy kept spasming.

Wave after wave of rapture shot through my body. Stars burst before my eyes. My head swayed from side to side. It was incredible. I was such a whore for loving this. A pee-drinking slut. My juices bathed my finger as my clit throbbed beneath my massaging fingers.

“Oh, yes!” she moaned as her stream died. Then it was just a trickle. “Now lick me clean, balim. Put that tongue to use and make me sing!”

I buried my mouth into her curls, licking the drops of urine staining her labia. I gathered up that wonderful treat while enjoying the musk of her pussy. I wanted to clean her, to love her. To give this broken woman bliss.

Her bush tickled my nose and cheeks as I worked my tongue deep into her pussy. She tasted wonderful, her tart flavor mixing with the aftertaste of her bitter urine. My tongue swirled through her, making her shudder.

“Oh, yes, balim!” she moaned. “Ooh, eat me.”

“I am!” I whimpered into her snatch, my pussy drinking in the delight of my fingers massaging my clit. Another orgasm built in me.

I frigged my clitoris harder, eager for another cum to wrack my body as I pleasured her. My tongue fluttered through her folds. I licked and lapped at her crevasses. I brushed her clit, flicking it, battering it.

I’d learned so much about eating pussy in the last month living in the hotel. I put it all to use. My left hand, not busy massaging my clit, grabbed her ass, holding tight to her as she swayed above me. The shower splashed on us, keeping my dress drenched.

“That’s it!” she gasped. “Oh, yes! Devour my cunt, whore!”

I did. I devoured every bit of it I could find, sending my tongue exploring every nook and cranny, then wiggling deep down her hole. Her hips bucked, and she writhed on my mouth, one hand keeping my head pressed tight to her snatch, the other reaching up to pinch and pull at her hard, dark nipples.

She stretched out her breast as I feasted on her. My tongue flicked up to her clit again. I latched onto it, sucking on her bud. My own clit throbbed as I my massaged it hard. My snatch clenched, my orgasm building again.

I wanted to explode over and over.

“Oh, fuck!” 24 gasped as I nipped her bud. “Make me cum! Make me purr! That’s a sweet balim!”

Her hips jerked harder, her head threw back. The shower spray plastered her black hair to her dark skin. Her gasps and moans echoed through the bathroom.. Her breasts heaved, dripping with water. Her fingers twisted her hard nubs.

I frigged my clitoris faster, wanting to cum with this amazing woman. I sucked harder on her clit, moaning and pleasing it. My tongue swirled around it. Her body jerked, her hand abandoned pinching her nipples and lashed out to snag the shower bar for support.

“That’s it!” she screamed. “Oh, Gods, yes!”

We came together.

She shuddered on my mouth. Her tangy juices poured down my throat. I screamed my passion into her pussy. Juices gushed out of me as the wave of ecstasy slammed into my mind. It was such a heady delight. It left me reeling, my thoughts dizzied by pleasing her.

She spasmed above me, her hand gripping the shower bar as I feasted on her tangy cream. I lapped it up as my orgasm peaked. She threw her head back, swaying, her wet tits heaving together. I shivered as I came down from my high.

“Oh, yes! Oh, yes, Jan! My Jan! My…” Her voice broke. Her face quavered. Pain burst across her expression. “My beautiful Jan!” Her shoulders shook. She slumped against the shower wall, pulling her pussy away from my face. “I miss you so much! Why did you die?”

Her legs buckled, folded. She slid down the wall and sat before me, hugging her knees. She rocked as she sobbed, the water spraying down on us. My heart broke for her. My pleasure vanished as I slid to her, engulfing her in my arms.

I pulled her to me.

For a moment, she just sobbed like I wasn’t there, ignoring me. Then her arms were around me. Her knees lowered as she pulled me against her. She clutched me with a desperate need, her face pressed into my shoulder as she cried.

I never let go of her. I held her as she sobbed all her pain out against me, rocking me in her arms. I didn’t speak, I just gave this wounded creature all my compassion.

My love.

The crying died after a time. She sniffed and shifted. When she raised her head, her bloodshot eyes were soft. She stroked my cheek. My heart beat faster; she was beautiful.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Jan would have really loved you.”

“I’m sorry I never got to meet her.”

“You did.” She smiled, sad and tiny, but it was a smile. “She was my partner. She was the other bodyguard that helped me frisk you all.”

I remembered the beautiful, sandy-blonde woman in the slutty cop’s uniform fingering my two fellow artist at the same time during the “search” at the museum. I licked my lips and said, “She was very passionate.”

“She was.” 24 blinked and then gasped. “Oh, let’s get you out of those wet clothes, balim.”

We stood and turned the shower off, which stayed warm. She helped peel me out of my wet uniform. After we dried, she stumbled into the bedroom and sat on the bed I’d made up. She stared at the dirty one.

I watched her from the bathroom, my hair damp. Without looking at me, she patted the spot next to her. I crossed to her and sat down. Her arm slid around me. Her skin was warm and soft. I cuddled against her.

“This was our bed,” 24 whispered, shifting as she stroked the fresh sheets. “I couldn’t bear to sleep in it after…”

I nodded. “She was lucky to have you, 24.”

“Emine,” she corrected. “In here I’m Emine.”

“That’s a beautiful name.”

She reached out and grabbed the present from the nightstand. “I think I’m ready to open this.”

“I’ll leave,” I said and tried to pull away.

“You’re my gift,” she protested. “I’m going to keep you close and pee in your pretty, little mouth whenever I feel sad.”

I blushed. “I’d… like that.”

“Of course you would. All the little whores love to drink my piss, balim.”

“Why do you keep calling me that?”

“Because you’re my cute, little kitten.” She gave me a brief smile. Then, with the greatest of care, unwrapped her Valentines Day present.

* * *

Friday, March 20th, 2015 – South Hill, WA

I knelt at 24’s grave amid the beautiful trees behind the mansion. Rows and rows of tombstones marking the final resting places of all those loved by the Gods who’d died in their service. Karen and Chasity’s graves were at the center. They had grand statues carved in their likeness marking their resting place. Stretched out around them were all the graves for the bodyguards who’d fallen.

It had been one year since I walked into Room 205 and met this amazing woman, the first love of my life. We had eight wonderful months together until she died fighting Lucifer during the eclipse. Many bodyguards had perished that day helping the Living Gods defeat the first of the great Demons. More were still dying as the war raged across the world.

I laid the flowers before 24’s grave and kissed her marker.

“Thank you, Emine,” I whispered, using her real name. “I hope you and Jan are happy.”

Next to 24’s grave, lay 23’s—Jan. Emine had loved me, but she never stopped loving Jan more. And that was okay. They only had a short time together, but they had forged such a deep bond, and maybe one day I would find someone I could love as intensely. And, if not, I would at least enjoy the company of all my fellow maids and my Gods.

I brushed at my skirt after standing. Then I set up my easel. I studied at the blank canvas and imagined Emine and Jan watching me from the Shadows where all the servants of the Gods waited. One day I would join them and be reunited with Emine and meet the amazing Jan.

I was certain I would love her as much as I did Emine.

I wiped away the tear and painted.

To be continued in the next Servants’ Tale!

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Click here for Passionate Love, Chapter 1.

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