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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 5.

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The Tyrants’ Theocracy often painted them as perfectly in love, stepping in harmony, but could there love be as pure as their propaganda suggested?

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

Desiree Fitzsimmons

I trembled as my Master left the kitchen. This night had been going so wonderfully. I was freed from being my boorish husband’s trophy wife and claimed by the amazing Mark and his delightful girlfriend. I was their sex slave, their slut now. It wasn’t much different than being Brandon’s wife except the sex was so much hotter.

I was even attracted to Mark. He maybe the first guy I had ever fucked that I had actually enjoyed.

And now everything seemed to have gone so wrong. Mark and Mary’s fight had paralyzed Alison and me in the kitchen. Our Master had been devastated when he walked out of the dining room. He seemed to have the power to make anyone do what he wants—except make his girlfriend understand what he had done to her.

“Do you think she’s going to stay?” Alison asked, her voice a pained whisper.

I looked at my fellow slut, her naked body trembling, tears spilling down her cheeks.

“Maybe,” I told her, walking over to the cute girl. She was definitely pretty. I normally went for a more mature woman, like Diane, but there was something so innocent about her that contrasted with her nipple piercings and degrading tattoo above her pussy. She was whorish and pure and it was so appealing. I knew why Master kept her around.

She suddenly threw her arms around me, hugging me tight, her lithe body clinging to mine. I hugged her back, enjoying the feel of our flesh pressed together. This was another perk of serving Mark—I could indulge in my lesbian desires. I didn’t have to hide who I was just to land a man that could take care of me in style—Mark didn’t care that I was gay. He loved it.

“She can’t go,” sobbed Alison. “She’s my Mistress. I need her almost as much as Master.”

A spark of anger burned in me. How dare our Mistress fight with our Master. Doesn’t she know how much she’s hurt both Alison and Mark? It wasn’t right. Mark was an amazing man. A powerful man. In another time, I’m sure he’d be a king.

My king.

“Please say she’ll stay,” begged Alison. “She made me cum in the shower. I thought she cared for me? And I thought she loved Master.”

I rocked her, nuzzling at her ear. “It’ll be okay. Mark is a king. He’s powerful. If he wanted her to stay, he would have made her. He let her make the choice. You heard him. Maybe she’ll stay. Maybe she’ll realize that she does love him.”

“But what if she doesn’t? What is she lied about loving him?”

“Then mi Rey is better off without him.”

“Mi Rey?”

“My king.” I stroked Alison’s pink hair. Calling him that just felt right to me. “If she doesn’t love him, then it’s better this way. He can find another woman to love. And until then—”

“He’ll have me and you to satiate his lusts,” Alison sniffed, her arms squeezing tight about me. “We’ll make sure he’s taken care of. We’ll never leave him, right?”

“Of course not,” I smiled. Why would I ever leave him? He was my king. I belonged to him. He had taken me in front of my husband.

“Good,” Alison sighed. “Thank you, Desiree.”

“You’re welcome,” I smiled. “I don’t mind hugging a cute, naked girl like you.”

Alison giggled. She was so cute and innocent and my heart beat a little faster as I held her, her hard nipples and those delightful piercing rubbing against my heavy tits. If I wasn’t so scared about mi Reina abandoning us and crushing mi Rey’s heart, I would probably want to do something with this sexy slut.

The front door slammed shut and I flinched—Mary had made her choice.

Alison began sobbing in my arms and a tear trickled down my cheek.

* * *

Mary Sullivan

I sobbed into my hands.

It all made such a sick kind of sense why I acted the whore today. A man, whom I only met last night, walked in to my work this morning and told me to do the most depraved things, and I just did them without thought or question. I figured he had some animal magnetism, or that he awoken some lust buried inside me. That the special thing I had recognized in him last night had made me act like such a slut or that I just loved him so much that I would happily debase myself.

I had thought I had chosen to do those perverse acts. But to find out that he controlled me, that I was little more than a puppet dancing on his whims. Oh, god, it was more than I could take. My body shook as I cried. My soul was crushed beneath this knowledge. Mark sold his soul to the Devil and everyone had to do what he told them to.

And the worst part was, I loved him. I ached for him. I wanted to run upstairs and shout out how much I loved him and embrace him and kiss him and…and fuck him. But how could I trust myself around him? With a simple command, I would be putty in his hands, free to perform whatever perverse acts he imagined.

My hips shifted as my pussy itched, remembering just how much I had enjoyed performing those perverse acts, my pussy still wet and flushed from his wonderful fingers at dinner.

“No!” I sobbed “He made me enjoy them. As long as I’m around him, I would be as much his slave as Alison and Desiree.”

But he had released me. He freed me from his power. If he had wanted to, he could make me stay, make me want to be with him, and make me forget I was ever even angry with him. With a word, I would beg him to degrade me further. I would crawl after him on my hands and knees.

“No! No! No! I am my own woman. I’m not Mark’s slave. I’m not an object to satiate his lusts!” My soul was torn in pieces. If I only could hate him. This decision would be so easy.

I had to get out of here.

I stood up, wrapping the robe about me. I dashed out of the dining room, grabbing the keys to the Eos Mark had…had stolen for me. Christ, this was fucked up. He was so powerful; I ached to go upstairs and—.

No! Be strong!

Fear beat in my breast. Did I have time to change? I was dressed only in the flimsiest of silk robes. It did little to cover my naked body beneath. What if he came back downstairs and brainwashed me again? No, I’m dressed enough. I grabbed one of the shopping bags Alison had carelessly left on the living room floor. I did not care what outfits were in there. I could change later, once I was away. Once I was free.

I rushed outside, unlocking the Eos and jumping in. I stuck the key in the ignition and turned it. The car started with a low purr. I was going to escape, I was going to leave, to be free. I grabbed the gear shift and froze.

I love Mark.

The sentence seemed to float from the deepness of my soul. I loved him.

But, he hurt me. He degraded me. Fresh sobs wracked my body

Yes. But who hasn’t hurt the one they love.

Tears rolled down my cheeks, my stomach tangled with emotions. I tried to put the car into gear, but my hand refused to move. If I just put the car in reverse, I would be free. Come on, girl, it’s not worth the risk. If I go back, I’ll just be his slave again.

But I’m free right now. Mark gave me a choice. No matter what I choose, I’m free. If I stay, it’s because I chose to, not because he made me.

“He hurt me!” I shouted in frustration, hating my traitorous body and mind for wanting to return to him. “How can I go back?”

I love him, therefore I can forgive him.

I froze. Could I forgive him?

My heart thumped in my chest as I thought.

Could I forgive his mistake?

I loved Mark, ached for him. My hands trembled on the gear stick. It didn’t matter why I loved him. Mark was right, it just mattered that I did loved him. And he loved me. If he didn’t love me, he would treat me just like Alison and Desiree. Like a whore. I’ve seen him with other women. Half the time when he was fucking he could care less if the women enjoyed it or had an orgasm. But with me, he made sure I had fun, that I had my orgasms.

I smiled, remembering the wonderful cum Mark had given me at the salon; the way he’d kneel before me, spread my thighs, and eat my waxed pussy. He cared that I enjoyed myself. Mike, my former boyfriend, had never cared, he had treated me like Mark would treat other women. Like a whore.

And what about Alison and Desiree? Do I just leave them to his enslavement?

I can’t deny that I got off on ordering them around and treating them as objects to satiate my lusts. There was something intoxicating about someone who would do whatever filthy thing you desire. A beautiful woman who was more than happy to get down on her knees and pleasure you with her tongue, her fingers. Mark could have had that from me. He did have that from me, back at my work with Cynthia and Vivian. And he had freed me.

Could I do the same to Alison or Desiree, free them from their bondage?

I shifted in the seat; my pussy itched with desired. No, I don’t think I could. There were definitely perks staying with Mark. But what if makes me his slave again? I loved Mark, but did I trust him?

Then, in a single moment of clarity, it came to me. There was one way to make sure we would forever be equals in our love. There was one way I could know that I could trust him.

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 7.

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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!