The Devil’s Pact Revised 2: Orgy of Delight Chapter Three

 

The Devil’s Pact Revised 2: Orgy of Delight

Chapter Three

by mypenname3000

© Copyright 2013


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.



Click here for Chapter 2.



Most of what we know of the Tyrants’ past came through the hard work of my husband Doug. At the time, he was a PI in the employee of Brandon Fitzsimmons.

excerpt from ‘The History of the Tyrants’ Theocracy’, by Tina Allard

Mary Sullivan

Mark held me, and I savored the wonderful glow of our shared orgasm in the alley behind the Safeway. His strong arms were wrapped around me, and his fingers toyed with my curly pubic hair, while I pressed my back into his chest. I loved being held by my stallion. We were in our own, private world, just the two of us, and nothing could—

The young man was still filming, and our private world vanished. While the guy watching us fuck had made me feel hot and sexy, the man watching us cuddle just ruined the intimacy. I glared at the young man and he just smirked like an punk asshole.

“Mark, some guy is filming us,” I whispered.

“Go home!” he shouted at the punk. “And upload the footage to Youtube!”

Clearly confused, the punk jumped onto his skateboard and headed off. I smiled, no one could resist my stallion’s commands. Mark pulled out of me and his cum ran down my thighs. I pulled my panties and pants up as Mark put his cock away.

“He kinda ruined the moment,” Mark said regretfully.

“Yeah,” I replied. “Although, he did made the sex hotter.”

Mark chuckled and kissed me. “Such a naughty filly.”

Smiling, I reached into the car and found my bra. Mark had broken the clasp in his haste. I held it up to him, shaking my head. “It’s not that hard to unclasps them, Mark,” I said in amusement.

“Sorry,” Mark said, sheepishly. “I’ll get you another. Besides, we have got to get you into something more flattering than that polo shirt. Although your ass looks amazing in those pants. Where’s your place at?”

My place was also Mike’s place and guilt boiled in my stomach. “I…I live…I mean, I lived with Mike. After what I did…” I trailed off, shaking my head.

I never thought I would cheat on Mike, even if I did it with my soul mate. I consoled myself by remembering that Mike had probably cheated on me with that big-tittied tramp from his work. He had denied it repeatedly, telling me I was just jealous and overreacting. He was convincing, but the way that bitch looked at him sometimes made me think something must have happened.

Mark nodded. “Yeah, that was pretty mean of me, so don’t feel bad, okay, Mare.” It was sweet of Mark to try and assuage my guilt. And it did help a little. “It was just so…” he trailed off, searching for a word.

“Naughty?”

That boyish grin came back and he nodded. “It was. So naughty.”

“So, I don’t think I can face him, not yet.” I reached into the car and grabbed my white polo and pulled it over my head. The fabric rasped pleasantly on my nipples, still a little sensitive from my orgasm.

“Okay, Mare. Let’s go shopping and get you some new clothes.”

I hugged Mark in delight. Mike never wanted to go shopping with me. Remembering how badly Mike used to treat me also went a long way to make me feel less guilty about how I had dumped him. “Okay, let’s go shopping.”

We climbed back into his dirty car. He was definitely going to need to clean it if he expected me to ride around with him. He turned the key and the engine starting with a loud sputter, and he drove us out of the parking lot and onto Pacific Avenue, the main road that went north through Spaneway, Parkland, and into Tacoma. As we drove, I realized that Mark and I had done just about every sex act I had heard of, and I didn’t even know his last name. So I asked him.

Mark blinked at me. “Wow. I guess we don’t really know much about each other. Well, let’s see.” He paused, thinking. “I’m Mark Glassner. I’m twenty-seven. Umm, I’ve been working shitty jobs since I was eighteen. Currently, I sell vacuum-cleaners door-to-door.”

I couldn’t help laughing at that. “People still do that?”

“Not that successfully,” Mark answered. “Most people listen politely, then politely tell me to go fuck myself.”

“Well, Mark, I’m surprised that you’re not that good at it. Since you did just convinced three strange girls to have an orgy with you.” I furrowed my eyebrows. How he had done that? His voice was so commanding, reaching deep into you, that you just wanted to obey him. Was it something you could learn?

Mark seemed a little uncomfortable, so I changed the subject. I would pry that secret out of him eventually. I had my whole life to do it. “What about your family?”

“I have a little sister,” Mark answered. “Although, I guess Antsy’s not so little any more since she started college last year.”

“Antsy? That’s a…um…unique name.” I was trying not to giggle.

“It’s short for Samantha,” he explained. “When she was a little kid she couldn’t sit still, so my dad started calling her Antsy. My sister still lives with my parents while she’s going to school, but I…I moved out when I was eighteen.”

His voice sounded bitter and I sensed some pain. I rubbed his thigh consolingly. “My mother wasn’t a great parent, either,” I told Mark in an understanding tone.

“It was my dad,” Mark said after a long pause. “He was fine until I was eleven, and then he hurt his back, or so he claimed. He was a longshoreman at the Port of Tacoma, and so he couldn’t work anymore and went on disability. Money got tight. My mom had to start working, and my dad…” Mark snorted with derision. “My dad started drinking. And then he started getting abusive. To me. To my mom. And sometimes even to Antsy. I stood up to him when I got older, and he realized I was as strong as him. So the bastard kicked me out when I graduated high school. I’ve tried a bunch of times to convince my mom to leave him, but she won’t. She’s a good Christian and doesn’t believe in divorce. She says she loves him, but I think she’s too scared of being alone. Since I moved out, my mom claims that he stopped hitting her, but…”

“But you think she’s just trying to protect you,” I finished, squeezing his thigh reassuringly. He nodded.

Mark cleared his throat. He was doing that guy thing where they pretend they weren’t about to cry. “So what about you?” he croaked, voice thick with suppress emotion. He cleared his throat again. “What’s your last name?”

“Sullivan,” I answered immediately. “I’m twenty-one. I have two sisters. Shannon’s my older sister and Missy’s my younger. Missy’s about to graduate from high school.”

“I definitely need to stop thinking of my sister as a kid since I’m dating someone almost the same age,” Mark quipped.

“You’re just a cradle robber,” I joked back. “Seducing innocent young girls with your lecherous ways.”

We stopped at a red light and Mark bent over and kissed me, “Guilty as charged,” he whispered, kissing my cheek and nuzzling at my neck. The light turned green and a horn blared behind us. He grinned boyishly at me and continued driving.

“I work part-time at Starbuzz. Or, at least I did,” I flushed as I savored the memory of what we did this morning. “It was helping to pay for college, so I hope you step up your vacuum-cleaner salesmanship to keep me in the poor lifestyle I’ve become accustomed to.”

“Money’s not going to be a problem, Mare,” he told me with confidence. That nickname, Mare, was starting to grow on me. I kinda wished I had one for him. But Mark doesn’t really shorten into anything. Except Mar. And that sounds silly. Maybe Ark? No. He’s not a big boat with a bunch of animals on board. Stallion was a fantastic nickname for when we were fucking, but seemed a little too weird to use otherwise.

“So where are you going to school?”

“I’m attending DeVry up in Federal Way,” I answered, “working on a graphic design degree.”

Mark smiled and nodded appreciatively. “I didn’t know I was dating a talented artist. I would love to see your work.”

I blushed, “I’m not that good.” People, mostly my dad and my sisters, said my art was amazing or beautiful. I, however, always saw my flaws and mistakes. “But, I’ll show you, if you want?”

He squeezed my hand on his thigh and brought it up to his lips, kissing my fingertips. “I do.” He held onto my hand, driving with just his left. Mark turned right onto 512, the freeway that ran east towards South Hill and its mall. “You said your mom wasn’t that great of a person?” he asked, merging onto the freeway.

I hesitated. I didn’t like talking about my mom, but Mark squeezed my hand reassuringly. “You don’t need to talk about it, if it’s too painful.”

I breathed deeply. Mark was my soul mate. He deserved to know. “When I was six, my mom…” I broke off, wiping at the tears welling in my eyes. Even after so many years it was painful. My mom had left a half-healed wound in my heart that opened every time I thought about her. “She left my dad. She was cheating on him and ran off with this musician.” I paused, fighting back sobs.

How could that whore abandon us?

“Sorry,” he whispered.

I sniffed and regained my composure enough to continue. “Dad was a wonderful parent and did his best to raise my sisters and I, but mom’s abandonment hurt him deeply. Hurt all of us deeply. He didn’t smile as much and had a hard time dating women. I think he found it hard to trust after that. He really loved her, and my mom didn’t even tell anyone she was leaving; she just packed a suitcase and left a note. Dad showed it to me when I was older. She wrote that she wasn’t happy with her family. She wanted to have fun, go out partying. To enjoy wild sex. She wrote that my sisters and I were just holding her back with responsibility.”

The tears were flowing now. It still hurt after all these years. What mother abandons her children so she could have fun? Never once in the last thirteen years had the whore ever so much as sent a birthday card. Dad said she didn’t even contest the divorce and even signed away her parental rights so she could screw around with that musician.

Of course, I’m just as much a whore. I cheated on Mike and then ditched him. Sobs wracked my body—I am my mother! How could this have happened? Oh, God, how did I become her?

Mark’s arms enveloped me, pulling me into his chest. His hands gently stroked my hair. I had been crying so hard that I didn’t even notice him pulling over to the freeway’s shoulder. He rocked me in his arms, and whispered, “Shh, it’s okay. I’m not going to abandon you. Shh.”

“That’s…not…” I sobbed, trying to speak. I started to hiccup. “I’m…my mother! I’m just as…bad! I’m a…a whore!”

“No you’re not,” he whispered, kissing my forehead. “You’re a Goddess, not a whore. You and Mike were just dating. You didn’t marry him. You guys didn’t have any kids. You didn’t abandon your family to go have fun.” I nodded and hiccuped. My tears stopped and I sniffed loudly; I rubbed at my eyes, wiping tears away.

“And your dad never treated your mom badly, right?” Mark asked. “He never was an asshole to her, like Mike was to you?”

I shook my head. “Dad loved her. They never even fought. I had thought they were in love. Me and my sisters were always catching them kissing and cuddling. I thought she loved him, too.”

“And did Mike ever love you? Or did he just love sleeping with you?”

I blinked, looking back at my relationship. Mike had always been at me for sex, but I had to badger him to take me out on dates or just to spend time with me. And I never felt half as intensely about Mike as I did for Mark. My feelings for him were a candle compared to the bonfire I felt for Mark. My eyes widened; it had just been teenage lust. Mike had popped my cherry, and I had thought that meant we were in love.

Mark was right. I smiled in relief. Thank God, I wasn’t my mother.

“Thank you,” I whispered. Then I smiled at him. “I love you, Mark.”

Mark kissed my cheek, tasting the salt of my tears. Then he was kissing my neck, nibbling and sucking and probably leaving a hickey to match the one he gave me earlier. There was a click and my seat belt unbuckled. I watched in confusion as Mark leaned back into his seat and pulled out his hard cock. Then he pulled out off the shoulder and back onto the freeway, accelerating quickly. He grinned at me and I licked my lips, realizing what Mark wanted me to do.

“I’ve always wanted to have my cock sucked while driving,” he confided in me.

Mark had been so sweet to me—far more than Mike ever had been—so I was more than happy to fulfill his fantasy.

I bent over, lowering my face into his lap and sucked the pink tip into my mouth. I traced the mushroom head with my tongue, feeling it balloon in my mouth. His cock tasted of my pussy, sweet and spicy. A semi-truck honked his horn as he passed and I grew wet knowing he could see me sucking my lover’s cock; I rubbed my sticky thighs together in pleasure.

“That’s it, Mare,” he moaned.

I was making him happy, and that left a warm feeling inside me. I wanted this to be special, so I relaxed my throat and lowered my mouth all the way down his shaft until his pubic hair tickled my lips and nose. I rose up, lips rubbing the ridge of his cock head, tongue playing with his urethra.

I sucked hard; Mark groaned, “Fuck that’s good! Your mouth’s amazing, Mare.”

I deep-throated him again and settled into a slow rhythm, rising up and playing with his head, then slowly devouring his cock, sucking hard. I cupped his balls, feeling their round hardness in his sack. His hand gripped the back of my head, and he forced me up and down faster and harder. His balls tightened in my hands and I knew he was about to cum. I slid my mouth up so only the tip was inside my lips.

“Gonna cum, Mare!” he moaned.

His cum was thick and salty. I swallowed as fast as I could, but it poured in swifter than I could handle. Warm spunk escaped my lips, running down his shaft. He groaned again and—

The car swerved wildly; I almost bit his cock in surprise. I sat up, cum running down my chin.

“What happened?” I asked as I scooped up the white and sticky cum with my fingers and licked them clean.

“I…uh…” he panted, still coming off his orgasm. “That was amazing, but we probably shouldn’t do that again.”

“Why,” I asked, buckling my seat belt.

“I almost wrecked the car when I came.”

I giggled, “Yeah, maybe we shouldn’t do that again.” My pussy was still on fire and I rubbed my thighs together, my clit pressing against my flesh.

“You need to cum, Mare?”

I nodded.

Mark exited freeway and merged onto Meridian. “Well, I know just how to satisfy you.”

“How?” I asked, squeezing my thighs hard together.

His grin was full of promise.

* * *

Mark Glassner

Mary’s questioning look was so cute as I turned my car off Meridian, the main street that ran from Graham, north through South Hill, down the hill into Puyallup, and then up North Hill to King County. I pulled into a strip mall across the street from the South Hill Mall, and parked in front of the Heavenly Creatures Salon.

“What are we doing here?” Mary asked, a nervous smile on her beautiful face.

“Well, don’t take this the wrong way, Mare, but I like my pussies smooth.”

“You want me to get waxed?” she asked, and I nodded. She bit her lip. “Well, I have shaved my pussy once for Mike. It had been uncomfortable, and I got a bad case of razor burn. It was such a bad experience that I put my foot down when he asked me to do it again.” She grimaced. “He was an asshole for a week straight after that.”

“What a dick.”

Maybe I should have had a talk with Mike, and taught him how to treat woman right. Fuck, what a hypocrite I was, I just made three women fuck me, and here I was judging Mike. But he had treated this beautiful woman so poorly; a coal of anger smoldered inside me.

“But I can do it for you,” she smiled. “If it will make you happy.”

“It would.” I took her hand, kissed it. “But you don’t have to.”

“I want to make you happy, Mark.” Her smile turned naughty. “You’re my stallion, and I’m your naughty mare.”

Laughing, I leaned over and kissed her on the lips. “You can get whatever wax you want, I would just love for your pussy lips to be smooth and bare.”

“I’m feeling kinda excited,” she admitted. “It had felt nice having a bare pussy. Before the razor burn set in.”

We walked into the salon. It reeked of nail polish remover and hair spray, and I felt a little light-headed; I hated these places. I took another breath of chemicals and almost felt like vomiting. I had planned on sticking around and watching, but maybe not. Well, I did want to pop over to the Buy Best and pick up a new phone; mine was more than a few years out of style.

“Please sign in,” a bored receptionist said, pointing at a clipboard. She was Vietnamese, Thai, or Cambodian, with a round, beautiful face and dark eyes made all the more exotic by their almond shape.

The reception area was covered in shelves hawking shampoos, conditioners, makeup, skin care products, lotions, body washes, hairsprays, and a few other feminine products that I didn’t recognize. A few chairs occupied one wall before a small end table strewn with various gossip and fashion magazines; two middle-aged women sat reading magazines as they waited.

“What’s your name?” I asked the receptionist.

“Malai,” she answered, looking up and smiling.

“Good, stand over there,” I pointed to the wall; she obeyed politely. Then I walked to the curtain of beads that divided the reception area from the salon proper. It was full of Asian women—Vietnamese, Thai, or Cambodians—washing hair, painting nails, giving pedicures, and a dozen other odd jobs to the various White women lounging in chairs. “Everyone up front!”

A chorus of “Yes,” “Okay,” and “Right away,” answered me and within a few minutes I had all the girls that worked in the salon lined up before us while the customers watched. There were some cute ladies working here that just made my cock harder, and if it wasn’t for that terrible, chemical smell, I’d do something about it.

I glanced at Mary; she had a hungry look in her green eyes. Buried inside this wonderful woman was a soul as perverted as mine, and all it took was a few commands to free her inner depravity. “Which one would you like to eat your pussy?” I asked her.

She grinned. “You must really want me to enjoy getting waxed.”

“I do.”

“Fine with me,” she purred, looking them over. “There are some pretty girls to choose from.”

I nodded; they were all mostly Southeast Asians. I eyed them over, lusting after their pretty faces and the curves of their bodies. I licked my lips, thinking about the tall girl with bubblegum-pink hair, a pair of large breasts straining at her loose blouse, on her knees sucking my cock with her lush lips. Another girl combined plump curviness with a sultry smile. Mary went straight for the petite, Vietnamese woman with the doll face and shy eyes. It was a good choice; she was stoking my fires. The Vietnamese woman wore tight, pink jeans that hugged her ass and rode low on her hips, and a flowery, low-cut halter top showed off a small pair of breasts.

“This one, Mark.”

I pointed at her and motioned her over. “What’s your name?”

“Joy,” she answered. Her voice was rich and musical, like a songbird.

“Well, Joy, I want you to give Mary whatever type of wax she wants for free.” Joy nodded in agreement. “After you’re finished, I want you to eat her pussy until she cums.”

“Yes, sir,” Joy answered, and flushed shyly.

“Have you ever been with a woman?” I asked her. She shook her head.

“Oh, fuck, I get to be her first,” moaned Mary. “I about creamed my panties. I get to pop her lesbian cherry!”

What a wonderful creature.

“Everyone,” I said loudly, “Joy and Mary’s lovemaking will be perfectly normal.” I paused, a depraved thought filled my mind and a grin split my face. “In fact, stylist if a client ever asks you to perform a sex act on them, do it. And enjoy doing it.” I turned to the customers. “Ladies, I want you to enjoy yourselves. Have these girls get you off at least once.”

The customers—mostly middle-aged women, but there was one hot twenty-year old—eyed the stylists speculatively. The stylist giggled back, licking their lips and preening. I really wished I could stick around, but the damn chemicals in the air were really getting to me.

I turned back to Joy, and ordered, “Do whatever Mary tells you to do. No questions asked.” Joy nodded. “In fact, that goes for all of you. Obey Mary no matter what.”

Mary kissed me on the lips. “Thank you.”

“Have fun,” I told her, patting her ass.

“You’re not staying to watch?” Disappointment filled her voice. “You’re not going to stick around? There are some pretty girls working here.”

“Sorry, I can’t stand the smell. It’s making me a little sick to my stomach,” I told her, giving a regretful glance at some of the stylist. “I’m going to go buy a new phone. I’ll meet back up with you in a little bit.”

“Okay, hun.” Mary said and kissed me goodbye. And then Joy was leading her back into the salon.

Regretfully, I walked out of the Heavenly Creatures Salon. Oh well, Mary was going to have a good time, and I couldn’t wait to see her freshly waxed pussy. I smirked, wondering if she would remove all her hair, or maybe she would just leave a landing strip of bright, auburn curls. I closed my eyes, picturing Mary’s beautiful, nude body: smiling, heart-shaped face; small, firm breasts covered in freckles; curvy waist; and a line of fire leading down her groin to her wet pussy.

I opened my eyes and continued walking to my old Ford Taurus and climbed in. I grimaced at the garbage—I really needed to clean it out. Mary deserved better than to ride around in this filthy car. She hadn’t said anything, but it was obvious she didn’t like riding in my car. Maybe I should just get a new car since this one was a piece of shit. A Mustang, maybe, black and sleek. That would work.

Fuck, I definitely should get a new car. I could do whatever I wanted.

Smiling, I stuck my keys in the ignition. Hopefully it would start. The engine cough, sputtered. I feathered the gas and, for a moment, I feared my car wouldn’t start. Finally the engine fired up noisily. Relieved, I drove up the street to the Buy Best and parked my car. I didn’t bother to lock it. There was nothing in the car except trash. And anyone was welcome to take that.

I walked into the Buy Best, and wondered what fun I could get into here.

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 4.

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I have released a part 43 of the revamped Devil’s Pact on Smashwords. Read this post for more information if you’re interested!

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