---

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 4.

---

---

The Zhana Prayer is one of the staples of the Priestess’s powers. With it, they shall wrest control of your Thralls and turn those you trust most against you. Only with the Zimmah Ritual can you ward your servants from their touch.

—excerpt from The Magicks of the Witch of Endor

Sister Theodora Mariam – Phoenix, AZ

Sally stumbled across the street and stretched out next to Raelene. After interrogating her, I ate her juicy pussy to another orgasm and put her under the Zanah prayer like I had with Raelene. Now I had two weapons against the Warlocks. Our conversation had been very informative, and Sally had answered all my questions in a droning voice. I had a plan now; Tex would be exorcised by dinner time.

Only two women were inside the house, a Black woman named Idelle, and Natalee, the First Wife. Apparently, Tex had turned his own wife into a Thrall, and she was in charge whenever Tex wasn’t around. Tex himself would be gone all day. He liked to take a few of his girls to work the street corners of Phoenix.

“He prostitutes you?” I had asked Sally in shock.

She nodded. “It’s our job. We have to earn money.” A shadow of a grin, almost wicked, passed across her lips. “Tex likes to watch us with other men. We do everything. Men pay for blowjobs. They fuck our asses, and a few have even pissed on us.”

I couldn’t wait for Tex to get home so I could make him pay!

I would have four of his Thralls under my power. He’d never see our attack coming. I was whistling with joy; the fucking pervert deserved what I was going to do to him. I walked passed the sunbathing Sally and Raelene; Tex had ordered his Thralls to spend two hours a day maintaining their golden tans if they weren’t working the street for him. I climbed the porch steps two at a time, excitement buzzing through me, and rang the doorbell. I wetted the index finger of my right hand with my pussy juices, and tensed, ready to spring on whichever woman answered the door.

It was Idelle. The beautiful, mocha-skinned woman had only a moment to react before my left hand clapped over her mouth, pushing her into the house and against the small foyer’s wall, while my right hand snaked at her forehead. I deftly drew the Mark of Qayin on her forehead with my pussy-stained finger. The Mark would anchor any prayer I cast upon her. Now marked, I shot my hand between her legs, shoving three fingers up inside her shaved cunt, rubbing my thumb in a fast, hard circle on her clitoris.

I had her cumming in minutes, her large, dark breasts heaving as she shuddered against the wall. I whispered the prayer into her ear and she stiffened and went numb. Now I had three weapons against Tex. I licked my fingers clean of her tart musk as she went back to cleaning the living room, then remoistened my fingers, and set off to find Natalee.

I entered the kitchen, my bare feet padding on the white linoleum patterned with pastel-blue and mauve flowers. It was clean and orderly. Natalee, like Mabel, was into cross stitching, and hung on a wall was depiction of Natalle and Tex’s wedding, her in a white dress and him in a black suit, with the words, “May 24th, 1994, Tex and Natalee Together forever,” stitched into a pink heart beneath the happy couple.

“The bastard,” I hissed, turning his own spouse, who clearly loved him, into another one of his slaves. I was going to make him pay.

“Who the fuck are you?” a woman demanded.

I whirled, a beautiful, young woman, naked, with breasts the size of my head, glared at me. She was young, and may have been the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She was perfect. Her lips, her nose, her breasts, her hips. Flawless. Like a supermodel that had all her small blemishes photoshopped away.

I didn’t let that distract me; I had thirteen years experience doing this and my hand shot out without hesitation, drawing the Mark on her forehead. “Shana!” I shouted, wanting to stun her. Tex wouldn’t be home for a few hours, more than enough time to put her under the Zanah prayer.

“What the fuck?” the woman demanded.

I gaped at her; the prayer didn’t work. And then I saw the aura outlining her—silver. She didn’t have a Black aura of a Thrall like Idelle or even the red aura of a Warlock. She was silver, just a regular human. He didn’t enslave his wife; she was his willing partner. He must have used his third wish to give her the most beautiful, female form in existence.

She punched me in the stomach. I doubled over, the air whooshing out of my lungs. My knees buckled, and I fell to the floor. Oh, shoot! I screwed up. I hadn’t even considered that a normal person would be mixed up in this. I needed backup; there were three Thralls nearby I had imprinted with the Zhana Prayer. I yelled, hoarse and ragged.

Idelle entered, concern painted on her face. Good. “Zha—”

My trigger word was interrupted; Natalee grabbed my blonde hair and pulled my face into her pussy. Her hips writhed, rubbing her sopping vulva across my lips, filling my nose with her tart musk. I grabbed her hips, pushing against her. If I could just get my mouth free and say the word, Idelle would become my ally.

“She’s a feisty one,” Natalee breathed. “Grab the rope, sweetie.”

“Sure,” Idelle said in a helpful tone.

“Now, bitch, you get to lovin’ my pussy and stop fighting, or I’ll be forced to hurt you.”

I pushed harder with my hands, ignoring the pain in my scalp as I tried to rip my hair out of her grip. She was strong, and gathered a second handful of my blonde hair. She humped my face, sighing and purring with delight.

“Suck it! Lick my cunt, bitch! All you beautiful sluts think your pussy so better than the rest of us. But you ain’t. You just a dumb slut that’ll worship my pussy or I’ll strap that ass of yours until its red!”

I was having trouble breathing, drowning in her pussy. She slid it across my lips and nose. I tried to push against her body, but I was having a hard time getting good leverage. My arms burned with the effort, and my scalp felt on fire. Hands grabbed my arms, dark against my pale flesh; Idelle was strong and yanked my hands behind my back, binding my wrists.

“Lick my pussy! Lick it, slut! Show me how much you love it! Dirty whore! Sneaking into my house!”

I had no choice. If I pleasured her, she’d pull her pussy away. I needed to talk to trigger Idelle. So I licked.

“That’s it! Lick it! Umm, you love the taste of my pussy, don’t you! Mmh, I bet you love to eat cunt! You’re a lesbo dyke that loves munching on my twat. That’s it. Stick that tongue deep inside me. Umm, that’s it. Tongue fuck me, lesbo dyke!”

I pushed down the humiliation and shame; I was a nun of the Order of Mary Magdalene. I would submit to any degradation, surrender to any shame, if that’s what it took to defeat evil! I worked my tongue into her pussy, drinking her juices, and pleasuring my captor. Her grip never slackened, but her hips rotated faster and faster.

“Yes, that’s it! She’s definitely eaten pussy before, Idelle!”

“What a nasty, lesbo dyke!” Idelle giggled. “Can I have a turn after you?”

“Have you cleaned the living room?”

“No,” she sighed.

“Then get your Black ass out there and finish!”

“Yes, Natalee!” Idelle squeaked and scurried away.

“Keep eating my pussy, whore! So close! I’m gonna cream your pretty, pussy-loving lips! You want that, don’t you! You can’t wait to eat my cream! Umm, that’s it, whore!”

My lips found her hard clitoris, sucking the bud between my lips. My tongue flicked and batted the sensitive nub. Her gasps grew higher pitch, her writhing hips lost their rhythm, jerking and spasming on my lips. I sucked as hard as I could on that nub.

“You fucking, lesbo dyke!” she screamed. Juices gushed out of her cunt, her pussy muscles contracting. She kept my face pressed into her pussy as her orgasm roared through her. She whooped and hollered like a cowgirl riding a bucking bronco. Then her hips slowed, her breathing quieted. She chuckled, “That was great my cute, lesbo dyke. You’re gonna be our sixth wife. Ain’t you excited?”

Not really.

She sighed. I looked up, unable to see her face at all thanks to her huge breasts. “Cumming always makes me have to pee.”

Oh, shoot.

Her body relaxed; her grip tightened. I tried to pull away, but my hands were bound behind my back and I had no leverage. Hot, acrid piss splashed in my mouth, overflowing my lips and running down my neck and breasts.

“Drink it, pee slut!” she purred.

I swallowed a mouthful, and more streamed in. She must have drank an entire pitcher of tea, because it seemed like her piss would never stop flowing. She jerked her hips, urine splashed on my face, stinging my eyes. Rivulets ran down my neck, matting my blonde hair. I pushed down the humiliation; I am a Sister of Mary Magdalene! I will overcome any obstacle, no matter how foul!

Her stream died down. “Did you love that? Of course you did, you’re a little pee slut.”

Her hands let me go; she walked away. I spat on the ground, trying to get that terrible, acrid flavor out of my mouth. I drew in a breath. The vacuum cleaner started up in the living room. “Zhana!” I shouted the trigger as loud as I could. “Zhana! Zhana!”

Idelle kept vacuuming.

“What’s that you keep shouting?” Natalee asked, picking up a dish towel out of the sink. “Some foreign speak. You an illegal? But no, not with that blonde hair.” She walked back to me, kneeling down. “Dosen’t matter.”

Then she shoved the dishtowel deep into my mouth. My eyes watered; the strong taste of pine-scented dish soap burned in my mouth. I tried to spit it out, but she had shoved it deep. The bitch walked out of the kitchen. I crawled on my two knees, trying to force the towel out of my lips. It move slowly, working out bit by bit. It was hard, the towel absorbing my spit and sticking to the roof of my dry mouth. I reached the living room, Idelle vacuuming away. If I could just get—

My head was yanked back; Natalee had a fistful of hair. “Where you going, bitch?”

She pushed the towel back in my mouth, then used the length of nylon stocking to tie the gag firmly into my mouth. Idelle kept vacuuming, a happy smile on her face. Then Natalee dumped me on the couch, and turned the TV on.

“Keep her company,” Natalee ordered. “But don’t ungag her or untie her. She can watch some TV until Tex gets back and sorts her out.”

“Of course,” Idelle smiled.

My heart hammered; I closed my eyes, my breathing slowed as I calmed down. I’ve been in worse spots than this. I began to pray and formulate my escape.

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 6.

If you enjoyed the story, support me on Patreon!

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