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Story Codes: Male/Female, Male/Teen female, Female/Teen female, Incest, Watersports, BDSM, Spanking, Oral Sex, 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.

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Click here for Chapter 12.

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Note: Mark’s friend Tom requested a Japanese teenager for his slave. Mark found Hikaru Hojou, an exchange student, at Rogers High School.

June 6th, 2056 – Hikaru Hojou – Kyoto, Far East District

I knelt in my fuku: a plain, white, buttoned-down shirt tucked into a short, red-green tartan skirt. Loose, white socks clung to my ankles. Everyday, my master Tom would select one of a dozen different outfits for his slaves to wear from traditional Japanese school girl uniforms—the fuku—to nurse uniforms, waitresses, goth-lolita, gym clothes, swim wear, and more. Kneeling like I was, the skirt had ridden up, exposing my bare ass and pussy to the slave-girls kneeling behind me.

For forty-three years I had been Tom’s first slave, the mistress of his harem, and the mother of his daughter. Ever since that wonderful day my God found me in the bathroom at Rogers High School and gave me to this wonderful, stern man, I had been his slave. When I was bad, he disciplined me, when I was good he loved me—and disciplined me.

Thirty women belonged to him, all Japanese girls he had collected over the years that he had been the Governor of the Far East. Tom ruled Japan, China, Korea, Siberia, and Manchuria in the name of the Living Gods. In exchange for serving Mark and Mary, we were given eternal youth and beauty by them.

The rice door slid open and Tom entered dressed in a simple, coal-gray silk kimono, looking tired. The last few months had been difficult. Somehow, Mark and Mary’s control over the world was slipping. First, anti-Theocracy graffiti popped up on governmental buildings, then food stores were burned and infrastructure sabotaged, and now there were skirmishes with the bodyguards. Today, the bodyguards had killed three men and a woman.

“Good evening, Master,” I greeted him, then the other slaves chorused their greeting in unison.

“Good evening, slaves,” Tom simply greeted.

I gracefully rose to my feet, gliding to my Master, a smile on my face, and hugged and kissed him. It pleased me to feel his hands slip down and feel my bare ass beneath my skirt. When he broke the kiss, I stepped back and clapped my hands.

“Minami, Chiyoko, attend our Master,” I ordered.

Two girls rose from the ranks of kneeling slaves, gracefully moving forward. Tom held out his arms and the two girls deftly undid his obi and slipped his kimono off his body. Chiyoko carefully folded it and walked off to put in the laundry basket while Minami knelt and took off Tom’s sandals one by one, kissing his feet after removing each one.

“What would you like first this evening, Master?” I respectfully asked.

“A massage, then dinner, and finally a bath,” he answered.

“Yurika, Mika, Miyoko,” I barked, clapping my hands twice. “Attend our Master. The rest are dismissed. Dinner will be in one hour.”

“Yes Hikaru-sama,” the girls said, all rising in unison.

The three I named—busty Yurika, who had the largest tits of all the slaves and looked so cute with her dainty glasses perched on her button nose; tan Mika with her honey-brown hair and full lips, and our daughter Miyoko—rose together. I was very proud of my daughter when she turned sixteen last February. She had bowed before her father and humbly asked to be one of his slaves.

“Nothing would make me happier,” he had answered, pulling her up and kissing her. A week later she was bound to Mark and her training as a slave began.

She was a fast learner.

Tom set in naked in his plush recliner. Yurika knelt before him and began massaging his right foot while Mika walked around the chair to stand behind it and massage his shoulders. Miyoko, her round eyes twinkling as she climbed into her father’s lap. Our daughter was an exotic beauty—she inherited my Japanese looks but had Tom’s round eyes which made her seem even more innocent.

“Oh, Master,” she moaned as she sank her cunt onto his cock. Each slave knew just what position to take based on the order I called their names. “I love your cock inside me, stirring up my cauldron.”

Tom groaned, “My beautiful flower!”

I smiled at them as I stood patiently to the side. Miyoko’s skirt flared as she slammed up and down on her father’s cock, exposing her light-olive toned ass for brief moments. I felt my own cunt moistening, my fingers itching to plunge between my thighs and furiously rub at my clit until I brought about a mind-numbing cum.

I didn’t. I was a perfect slave. My pleasure could wait—Tom’s pleasure is what mattered.

The slaves ministrations eased the tension from Tom, his face relaxing into pleasure as he enjoyed Miyoko’s cunt. Our daughter pumped her hips faster, her curly, black hair flying wildly about her white blouse covered shoulders. There was a tearing noise; Tom ripped Miyoko’s blouse open, little buttons sent flying as he exposed her budding breasts, pale-yellow and topped with dark-brown nipples.

“Oh, yes, thank you, Master!” she moaned as he sucked a nipple into her mouth.

The fire grew in my loins, demanding that I put it out with my fingers; a cool bead of juice tickled down my thigh. I stood still, keeping my face composed as I warred with my desires. It had been a long time since I slipped up.

Three days tied up in a ball had been my punishment.

It had been wonderful. I was so helpless, so at Tom’s mercy. If I didn’t have so much responsibility these days, I would slip up again. Perhaps after things calmed down in a few months. I felt my facial muscles twitch, wanting to smile.

“I love you Master!” Miyoko moaned “May I cum?”

“No,” Tom ordered.

Miyoko bit her lip, straining to hold off that delicious relief even as she pumped her juicy cunt on his cock. Tom’s hands gripped her ass, squeezing it, guiding the movements of her fucking. His fingers spread her cheeks and I could make out her brown hole winking at me. Roughly, he shoved two fingers up her ass.

“Oh, fuck!” she gasped. “Oh, fuck! Please Master, may I cum! You’re stirring me up!”

“No!” he ordered, fucking his fingers in and out of her hole even as she rode his cock faster and faster.

“Oh, Master! Oh, my god! You are driving me crazy!”

“Good,” he smiled. He grasped her hips and slammed her all the way down his cock. The muscles in his neck strained and his face contorted as he poured his cum deep into our daughter’s youthful cunt.

“Thank you Master for you gift,” Miyoko panted.

Tom kissed her gently, tenderly. “You didn’t cum?”

“No, Master.”

“Hikaru will attend to you,” Tom said.

“Thank you, Master!” She climbed off of him, turning to face me; my eyes fell on her exposed breasts wet with Tom’s saliva. “Hikaru-sama, will you graciously pleasure me?”

“Of course, Miyo-tan,” I smiled, using my pet for my daughter.

I knelt before my daughter, so proud of her for not cumming despite all the ways Tom pleasured her. She was turning into a perfect slave. Her dark, thick bush was messy with Tom’s cum and her pussy juices; a beautiful sight, and I didn’t hesitate to bury my face into her forest and lick at her cunt.

“Oh, mother!” she gasped as my tongue scooped through her slit, gathering a mouthful of cum and honey. She had a tart, tangy flavor that was enhanced by salty spunk. My tongue flicked at her pearl, before diving back into her juicy hole. “Oh, mother! Oh, fuck! Oh, my Gods yes!”

She drowned me in her passion; a flood of juices poured down my cheeks and neck, soaking into my school blouse. Miyoko gasped and moaned, writhing her cunt on my face as her orgasm powerfully trembled through her.

“Thank you, Hikaru-sama, for your gift,” panted Miyoko as I stood up.

“You’re welcome, my daughter,” I answered her and gently kissed her on the lips.

“You did a good job with her,” Tom told me, his eyes closed as he enjoyed his massage. He patted his lap, and I walked over and sat across him. His arms wrapped around me and I smiled; I loved being held in his strong arms.

“There was another protest in Beijing,” I told him.

Tom grunted. “I heard. We questioned several prisoners we captured. Their auras were silver. Someone freed them from Mark’s control. I guess that confirms a nun’s interference.”

“It’ll be alright,” I told him. “Mark and Mary have been through worst over the years. This is hardly as bad as the Demon Wars.”

“We had soldiers then.” He looked at me and I saw fear in his eyes. It struck me like a gong, unease ringing through my stomach. “Tomorrow, I want you to start training the slaves in combat. You still have your sword.”

I nodded.

During the Demon Wars Tom, four of his slaves, and I had learned to fight with the katana. Each of us had an enchanted blade given to us by Mark and made by his Vizier, Sam, and fought in many battles. “I will start wearing it again.”

He relaxed, smiling. “Good.” His hand slid down my thigh, between my legs, and probed at my still damp bush—unlike Mark, Tom liked his girls to have a thick, natural bush. “Would you like to cum, Hikaru?”

“Only if you want me to, Tom-dono,” I answered.

His finger rubbed through my labia and brushed my clit; I shivered. “I want you to cum for me, my little slave.”

I groaned, relaxing my self-control, and let his fingers massage me into paradise. “Oh, Master!” I moaned. “Oh, yes, I love you so much! Please make me cum!”

His lips kissed at my neck. “I love you too, Hikaru. Cum for me!”

“Yes, yes!” I moaned as I exploded on his fingers, gushing forth a flood of passion; another thing Miyoko took after me. I held my Master, my love, as my body was whipped with the pleasure of his finger. “Thank you, Tom-dono,” I whispered. I was the only slave allowed to address our Master by his name.

“You’re welcome,” he said, kissing me deeply. We never married, but we were as close as any husband and wife.

Dinner was a simple affair. Tom wasn’t one for complicated meals. Rice, sashimi, a salad. Discipline was relaxed; the slaves laughed and giggled as they talked. I reclined next to Tom, serving him food while Miyoko sat on his other side, serving him tea and sake. After dinner, Tom retired to the onsen—an outdoor hot spring converted into a bath. Our home in Kyoto was blessed with one. Even with snow on the ground in winter, the waters remained pleasantly hot. There was something beautiful about lounging in hot water and sipping sake while the snow fell around you.

The frolicking at dinner intensified in the bath. Slaves scrubbed each other’s backs, which often led to more intimate caresses. Many of the girls were lovers. Some, like Yurika and Ruri, had been lovers for decades, others like Mika would have a fling every few years with a girl that always ended in tears and bitter recriminations.

I had Ruri and Ayame attend Tom, gently washing him and rinsing him in the side area. Ayame sucked his cock and shared his cum with Ruri. The horseplay and sex continued in the hot spring while I cuddled with Tom, sipping cold sake, enjoying the warmth of the water and the alcohol while wishing it was winter instead of summer.

“Who needs discipline?” Tom asked me later that night. “No veterans.”

We were standing in his bedroom, a spacious room appointed with erotic woodcuts from the Meiji Restoration. One wall, however, was decorated with ropes, clamps, straps, and crops. All the tools necessary to discipline a bad slave. Tom’s comment about no veterans sent more fearful chills through me. He was afraid of being attacked and wanted the three of us who knew how to fight to be free tonight.

“Mika,” I answered.

When the tanned girl—her dyed hair a rich, honey-brown—entered the room, she did not tremble as she watched Tom hold a length of hemp rope. She knew why she was here and, like a good slave, was ready to receive her punishment.

“Strip,” he commanded.

“Yes Master,” she said, quickly stripping out of her fuku until she stood naked. Pale tan lines covered her body. Not from a bikini, but a one-piece bathing suit, the type traditionally worn by Japanese girls for school. Her bush was a mat of thick, black hair that completely hid her undoubtedly aroused pussy.

Tom quickly and proficiently tied her up into a ball, her head between her knees and her ass thrust up into the air. The ropes crisscrossed her body in a beautiful web of knots and geometric designs. Shibari rope bondage was a work of art.

“What should I use on you?” Tom asked her.

“The switch, Master,” Mika answered. “It is what I deserve.”

Tom smiled, pulling down the supple, thin wood. The crack on her ass was loud and left a thin, red welt on her pale ass.

“One, thank you Master,” Mika moaned. Crack! A second red welt appeared, a line of fire across the plain of her butt. “Two, thank you Master!”

Dew dampened her bush by the fourth strike, and lust burned in her voice as she made her count. The fifth stroke landed on her fur-covered cunt and Mika yelped in pain.

“Five, thank you Master!” Her voice was stressed, rising in pitch.

More red welts appeared on her ass and thighs, and every few whacks Tom would land one on her pussy. His cock grew hard as he disciplined his slave, every cry and grunt inflaming his lust. He was nearing the thirtieths stroke, Mika’s ass almost entirely red.

Mika would be sitting gingerly for a week after tonight.

Her tart arousal perfumed the air. Every strike brought her closing to cumming, but she wouldn’t. Mika knew better than to cum without Tom’s permission. This wasn’t the bath. I inhaled her hot pussy Tom cracked the switch across her asscheeks again.

“Thirty, thank you Master!” she gasped after the last strike landed again on her pussy.

“Candle,” Tom said.

“Yes, Master,” I said, fishing a pink, beeswax candle and a special holder. One end held the candle, the other end was a thick butt plug.

I knelt behind the girl’s inflamed ass, Tom’s cock hovering near my lips, so powerful, begging me to open my mouth and suck it in. Instead, I roughly shoved the butt plug candle holder into Mika’s ass, then inserted the candle and lit it. Soon hot wax would run down the candle, just hot enough to sting, but not hot enough to do real damage. Some of it would trickle all the way down to her pussy, increasing the pleasure Mika had to endure without cumming.

I loved this treatment and wished our positions were swapped. The wax was hot, burning deliciously as it ran down my body, slowly cooling and hardening on my skin. Then I would have all night to feel helpless, horny, aching to be touched by my Master. In the morning, a sticky mess would be between my legs and it was so hard not to cum as Tom would rip the wax out, tearing chunks of pubic hair with it. Then he would shove his hard cock inside my pussy and I would have to fight against cumming.

I would still being punished.

After Tom had spilled his cum in me, he would untie me and after hours, I would finally be free. My bladder would be achingly full, my pussy hot, desperate to cum and full of his spunk.

“May I relieve my bladder?” I would ask him. Sometimes he would let me, but if he had the time, he’d make me stand there, straining to hold in my urine while he worked on something, until I lost control and shamefully wet myself.

Not even I could stop myself from cumming when that happened.

By then Tom would be ready to fuck again. He would make me kneel down and degrade myself by licking up the puddle of piss I left on the stone floor while he fucked my cunt hard from behind.

“Dirty whore!” he would growl. “You’re just a filthy animal with no self-control! A bitch!” The piss would be acrid on my tongue and sometimes he would shove my face down it in, smearing my hair through the filthy puddle like the disgusting bitch I was.

I longed for being punished again. Damn these dissidents for causing problems and denying me such passion.

“Who else has been bad?” Tom asked, snapping me out of my fond memories. He must be stressed if he feels the need to discipline another slave.

As I was about to open my mouth, a loud noise came from outside. Fireworks? Was there a festival today? There were many festivals in Japan. We were a hard working people and took any excuse to blow off steam and have a holiday or party.

There were more pops detonating. That didn’t sound like fireworks.

“Get the swords,” Tom growled.

Adrenaline surged through me. Those pops were gunshots. The bodyguard’s Mark sent us were fighting someone.

“Free her,” I snapped at Miyoko. “Then you and Mika lead the rest of the girls out the escape tunnel.” Fear shone in my daughter’s eyes, terror clutching her limbs with its icy grasp. “Now!” I barked.

Tom and I raced to the armory. Yurika and Ruri were already there arming themselves. Ruri was naked, strapping her sword to her waist and drawing the curved, enchanted blade from its lacquered sheath. Yurika still wore her fuku, her huge breasts straining the sailor-style blouse and her eyes were fierce behind her glasses.

“Master,” she said, tossing him his katana.

Natsuki was breathing hard when she burst in, wearing a short silk kimono robe—black and decorated with pink cherry blossoms—a look of alarm on her face. “Hundreds of peasants are attacking the gate. The bodyguards are about to be overwhelmed.”

“Get to the escape tunnel!” Tom barked, his face grim.

I strapped on my sword around my waist, looking to Tom for his orders. My heart was beating rapidly, memories of the Demon Wars flooding my mind. The day Usako was ripped in half by a demon made of shadows in Cairo while fighting the demon Hadad. The time I was almost gored and only saved because Tom and Minami leapt in front of me and drove the monster off. The sad memory of Minami choking on her blood, a demon’s spine shoved through her chest while Ruri and I vainly tried to get her to Mary so she could be healed.

I drew my katana with a steely rasp, light gleaming on the rippling, enchanted steel steel. I was surprised by how calm I was.

We each pulled on a bronze amulet. Did the enchantments still work after thirty years of lying in the armory?

“We fight our way to the escape tunnel,” Tom ordered.

“Yes, Master,” we answered.

We never made it. The attackers had already breached the mansion, cutting us off. They flooded through our home, angry and shouting for our blood. They destroyed. Beautiful paintings and works of calligraphy were ripped from the walls. Statues and vases were broken.

In tight corridors we fought the peasants, splashing blood on the rice paper walls. Never had my blade tasted a human’s flesh. I forced down the part of my mind that rebelled at the carnage down. I needed to survive—to protect Tom, my daughter, all the other slaves.

The attackers had guns; blue nimbi erupted around us every time one of the bullets would have found our flesh. My bronze amulet slowly grew warmer and warmer, a sign the protective enchantment was flagging, reaching its limit.

Ruri was the first to die; her perfect breasts marred by a ragged hole.

We were being driven back to the armory. There were too many of them and they were heedless of their deaths. We only still stood because of the tight quarters. Natsuki was pulled down, bludgeoned by the butts of rifles. Yurika failed to parry a crowbar, her ribs breaking, and she dropped in a heap.

My back was pressed against Tom’s. We were cut off, surrounded.

“I love you, Tom-dono,” I said, suddenly calm. Death had come for us. There was nothing left to fear.

“I should have freed you,” Tom answered. “You were the only one that was forced to be my slave.”

“Then I wouldn’t be your slave.”

Death walked to me. He was a stranger, a man clad in gold armor—a Monk. My sword broke on his armor. His dagger pierced my heart.

I fell into darkness; an eternity of weightless falling into the earth, through the earth, deeper and deeper. Into the Abyss. I landed in gray fog. Figures moved, shadows dancing in the writhing mist, growing larger and larger as they neared.

I was in the Shadows, the highest layer of Hell. Here, all those bound to Mark and Mary waited in death, our souls chained to them. Many bodyguards waited here, along with a few of the sluts and other servants.

Ruri, Yurika, Natsuki stepped out of the mist to greet me. And with them were two old friends: Usako and Minami. The six of us embraced, reunited with our long-dead sisters. I could see other forms in the darkness. A blonde woman, beautiful and fierce, welcoming the fallen bodyguards.

“Usako, Minami,” Tom’s voice said from behind.

“Master,” Minami smiled, falling to her knees. “Even in death, we serve.”

Usako prostrated herself. “What do you wish of us?”

“To hug you,” Tom said, tears in his eyes. “You were missed.”

As our Master was reunited with his slaves, I noticed more and more figures appear in the mist. More bodyguards appeared. I didn’t recognize many of them. They were assigned to other parts of the world. Beth and Aurora, the Bishopresses of the Far East, appeared with their servants; Tom’s old friend Chris and his busty harem materialized; hairy Quatch and his sister-wife; skinny Karl and his slave Julie. Everywhere I looked more Governors of the Theocracy Bishops of the Church appeared.

“They attacked us everywhere,” I whispered in horror.

Tom looked up from his reunion with Usako and Minami, blinking in surprise. “How did this happen?”

“We had thirty years of peace,” I answered. “Thirty years to grow soft, to grow lax.”
I felt something tug at me, a black chain about my soul yanking me down deeper into the darkness of the Abyss.

I was summoned by my true masters—Mark and Mary. We had sold our souls for eternal youth and power, and now we paid the price.

The darkness gave way to heat, to fire, to the anguished screams of the damned. I stood on blood-red rocks, heat slamming into me, suffocating me. Hundreds appeared on the hill, all those who sold their souls to Mark and Mary. They stood at the summit, magnificent, beautiful, powerful amidst the terrifying landscapes.

The ranks of the bodyguards knelt before our Gods, the Sluts gathered around them. The rest of us, the Governors of the Fourteen Districts of the Theocracy and the Bishops of the Fourteen Diocese stood surrounded by their family and servants. All of Tom’s slaves stood around him, with me on his right and our daughter on his left, and like everyone else, we fixed our eyes at the top of the hill.

“What are your commands, Master?” Violet’s voice rang out from the hilltop, her arm around her wife.

“Well, I’ve heard it said that it’s better to rule in Hell,” Mark answered.

Tom laughed. “That son-of-a-bitch. Well my ladies, we helped him govern the Earth, why not Hell?”

Around us, lesser demons and shades of the dead gathered. I could feel their fear. Mark and Mary had the power of all the greater demons: Molech, Lilith, Lucifer, others. No-one could rival them.

I clapped my hands. “You heard our Master, we fight!”

Instinctively, I summoned a katana to my hand, the blade glowing molten red, and armored myself in a fuku. I was Tom’s slave for all of eternity, and together we would carve a home for ourselves in Hell.

I have released a part 16 of the revamped Devil’s Pact on Smashwords. Read this post for more information if you’re interested!