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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 2.

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Operator: You’ve reached Crime Stoppers tip line, how can I help you?

David Glassner: Er…yeah. I know who released the gas at the Buy Best.

O: Okay. What’s your name, sir?

DG: David. David Glassner. And the guy you’re looking for is my asshole son Mark.

O: Are you sure, sir?

DG: That’s him on the news. My fucking son. (pause). So…there’s a reward?

—Transcript from Crime Stoppers Tip Line, June 7th, 2013

Doug Allard

Alison and Desiree were still in the sex shop after twenty minutes, giving me plenty of time to dig into Mary Sullivan. I searched Facebook and, after going through thirteen different Mary Sullivans, I found her profile, a picture of the redhead smiling, her arm wrapped around a weaselly-faced, black-haired man, his right ear pierced, and an ugly soul patch perched on his chin.

Not the man I had seen her with today.

I read through her profile; the man in the photo was Mike Stone, her boyfriend. She had a lot of friends, mostly from high school, two sisters named Shannon and Missy. She attended De Vry University, pursuing a degree in graphic design, and listed her employer as Starbuzz Coffee. Well, there were one of those on practically every corner.

I looked up Starbuzz’s website, found a list of all their stores in the area, and started dialing.

“Starbuzz, this is Cynthia, how may I help you?” a bored woman answered on the ninth store I called.

“Hi, yes, is the manager in?”

“Speaking.”

“Right, I’m the human resource director at Signs and Cards, and a Mary Sullivan gave us an application to be a graphic artist and I’m just following up. It says she worked at your Starbuzz.”

“Yeah,” Cynthia answered, her voice coming alive. “She quit yesterday. And good for her! It’s a terrible job here, but she was a great worker.”

“That’s good to know,” I said, trying to keep my excitement out of my voice. “Is there any friends, family, or boyfriends I should talk to. I want to get the complete picture about Mary, to make sure she’s the right fit at our company.”

“I’m not sure I should give that out,” Cynthia hedged.

“Okay, okay. And her boyfriend is Mike Stone, right?”

“Oh, no, they broke up yesterday. She’s dating Mark now.”

A certain, sultry purr entered her voice when she said Mark’s name.

“Mark?” Was this the mysterious man?

“Yeah, Mark. He came in yesterday and just swept her off her feet,” Cynthia husked. The woman sounded like she was having sex, her voice low and throaty.

“He sounds like quite the guy.”

“Oh, he is. He’s so strong and masterful. He introduced me to my girlfriend.”

“Oh, so you’ve known him long?”

“No. We met yesterday. But he made me realize just how much I love Vivian.”

“Your girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “She’s the best. I’m so happy now.”

“And Mark introduced you yesterday?”

“Uh-huh. He walked into our store and…helped us out with the broken hot water.”

“So he’s a plumber?”

“No, no. He’s just…Mark.”

Who the fuck was this guy?

“Do you know his last name?”

“Nope, just Mark. But he’s amazing!” There was a pause. “I have a customer. Gotta go. Hope you hire Mary. She’s the best!”

She hung up and I frowned in confusion.

Who was this guy?

I tried to do a search for Mark, but there were just too many people named that. None of Mary’s many friends had that name, and her ex-boyfriend, Mike, only knew one person on Facebook—Mary. Though it did show his job listed as mechanic at ‘Chuck’s Automotive Repair’.

“Shouldn’t be hard to find that,” I muttered.

A car started. I glanced up. “Fuck.” Desiree was in her car backing out of the parking space, Alison sitting next to her. I would have to dig into Mike later.

* * *

Mark Glassner

We found the yarrow after getting dressed, it was in the next aisle over from where we fucked the Cunningham family, and walked out of the store without paying.

“I know a great shoe store in the mall,” Mary smiled as we walked out to the car.

“Shoes?” I asked.

“I need a box,” she answered, rolling her eyes. “What better than a shoe box?”

That made sense. “Yeah, okay.”

My Mustang started with a throaty purr. I loved the sound of it. I revved the engine, and Mary laughed, shaking her head. “What?”

“Boys and their toys.”

I grinned, then held the break and gunned the gas, peeling the tires. She rolled her eyes; that beautiful smile plastered on her face. I would do anything to see that smile. I stopped destroying the tires and sped out of the parking lot, taking a right on 37th Avenue. Two blocks later, we crossed Meridian and entered the South Hill Mall’s parking lot.

I parked and we climbed out; I pressed the remote and enjoyed the lights flashing and the horn hocking as I locked and set the alarm. That never would get old. I proffered my arm, and Mary took it, and we walked into the Mall.

Mary led us to The Lady’s Slipper.

“Ohmygod, these are so cute!” she giggled, holding up a pair of red heels.

“Can I help you?” a petite, brown-haired woman, cut short in a bob, asked. Her nose was dainty and covered in freckles.

“I think she’s cute,” I grinned at Mary.

Mary rolled her eyes. “Yes, do you have these in a size 6?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right back.”

“Let her get my shoes before you start anything,” Mary smiled, patting the growing bulge in my pants. Then a pair of white, heeled boots caught her eye. “Oh, these are darling!”

The clerk came back with a box. Mary sat down on a bench, holding her foot out. “Ohh, what a cute shoe,” the woman cooed as she pulled off Mary’s tennis shoe.

“Thanks. I got them on sale at Target,” Mary answered, spreading her legs.

The clerk’s eyes widened, and she looked down at the floor. “Another one?”

“What was that?” I asked.

“I said another one,” she answered, then flushed, looking confused why she answered me.

“Another what?”

“Another customer not wearing panties. Her cheeks were crimson. “There was this pink-haired girl yesterday and—”

I laughed and Mary giggled. “Yeah, that sounds like Alison,” I grinned, picturing my slut in here yesterday, flashing this cutie.

“Did you like looking at my pussy?” Mary asked.

“No,” the clerk answered. “I’m not into women, you know.”

“I think you are,” Mary said. “What do you think, Mark?”

“I think you love pussy, and you want to stick your face under her skirt and lick her until she creams your pretty mouth.”

With a groan, her head dived under Mary’s skirt. My girlfriend’s green eyes went wide, and then she smiled and sighed. “Umm, that’s it. Take care of my pussy. You love it!”

“What in the heck?” gasped a stout woman browsing shoes at the end of the aisle.

“Just keep shopping,” I told her, dropping to my knees. “Nothing out of the ordinary to see here. Just going to give this girl a nice fucking! She wants it so bad, don’t you?”

“Yes!” the salesgirl groaned, then went back to vigorously, and loudly, eating Mary out.

I pulled down her khaki pants and plain, white panties. Her ass was round and pink, and I gave it a slap. She cooed, muffled by Mary’s pussy, and wiggled her ass. I spread her thighs and rubbed my fingers through the thick mat of brown hair covering her pussy.

“When you get home, shave your pussy,” I ordered.

“Yes, sir!”

“Fuck her, Mark!” moaned Mary, licking her lips at me. “Drive the little whore’s mouth deep into my pussy!”

“Yes, Mare,” I grinned and plowed into her tight snatch.

The woman gasped and Mary groaned. I gripped her hips, and fucked her hard and fast, savoring the wet warmth of her sheath. Mary leaned over, caressing my cheek, gripped my short hair and pulled me closer. Our lips met, and we shared our love as we shared this woman. Neither of us cared about her, she was just a sex toy, something to add a little spice to our love making.

Mary broke the kiss, tossing her auburn hair back. “Oh, fuck! She’s working my pussy hard! Umm, that’s it. Play with my clit. Make me cum, whore!”

“Do it, Mare,” I grunted. “I love watching your face when you cum. You’re so beautiful.”

She stared at me, mouth parted in a groan. Her body quivered and quaked, and a wonderful, musical sigh escaped her lips as she came on the slut’s mouth. Another shudder passed through her, then she leaned back on the bench.

“Umm,” she purred, closing her eyes. “Lick me gently now. That’s it.”

My own balls were tightening, getting ready to flood the little slut’s cunt. I gave her ass a slap as I plowed into her. “Here it comes, slut. You’re getting a taste of my cum. You should feel honored.”

“I do!” she moaned. “Cum in me! Give it to me!”

“Knock the little whore up,” Mary giggled.

I exploded in her. “Feel that!” I gasped. “That’s my sperm wiggling through your pussy to knock you up! Aren’t you lucky?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” she gasped, her pussy convulsing about me. “Thank you! I’m so lucky!”

“Yes, you are,” I breathed, pulling out of her.

Mary and I sat on the bench as the clerk ran around finding Mary shoes to try on. Her face was smeared with pussy juices, and cum ran down her thighs as she ran around bottomless, her cute, pink ass flashing invitingly.

“This is how to shop for shoes,” I laughed.

“Horny stallion,” Mary smiled, patting my arm fondly.

* * *

Mary Sullivan

I used an the empty shoe book from one of the twenty new pairs of shoes Mark had “bought” me, to scooped up the fresh, brown dirt from the top of the grave. It was fresh, the service had just ended, and it felt a little weird to be stealing the dirt.

“So, cat bone next?” I asked, the box already contained a photo of me downloaded of Mark’s phone and printed at a kiosk at the mall, the yarrow, and now all it needed was the black cat’s bone.

“Yeah. That’s back at my place.” He shrugged, “Well, there’s a few personal things I should grab from there.”

“Yeah. I probably should swing by my apartment, too. Mike’ll be at work, so I can get my art portfolio and other stuff.

“I’m curious to see your apartment,” Mark smiled, placing his arm around my shoulders.

“I’m more curious to see yours,” I smiled.

“You won’t be after you see it.”

We drove out of the Woodbine Cemetery that sat halfway down South Hill, and headed back north on 9th Street to get on Highway 512, taking that west to Parkland where we both had lived. Mark tore down the freeway at 90 mph, weaving in and out of traffic like a race car driver, getting my heart beating faster and faster.

I’m amazed no cop pulled us over.

Ten minutes later, we pulled up at the faded-blue Concordia Arms, made of four buildings, each two-story, that formed a square around a grassy yard set with a dirty swimming pool. Mark’s side faced a junkyard and there was a steep, dirt embankment we had to scramble up to actually get up to his apartment.

“Jeez, does your landlord not care about someone getting hurt?”

“Nope,” Mark shrugged, fishing out his keys and unlocking the door.

It was a pigsty. I took one look and blanched. “I’ll wait out here,” I said.

“Yeah,” Mark muttered, looking embarrassed. “Guess I really didn’t give a shit. Just give me a few minutes.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, leaning against the wall.

I pulled out my phone and saw a text from Cynthia. “GL on the new job.”

“What new job?” I texted back, frowning.

I went on Facebook, browsing my newsfeed, looking at all the stupid stuff my friends always posted when I received a text from my older sister Shannon. “Are you ok?” I blinked, what did that mean? After our mother bailed to run off with that musician, Shannon had to take her role and so she was far more overprotective than an older sister had any right to be.

“What r you talking about?” I texted back.

“You’re on the news. Connected to some terrorist. What’s going on?”

Terrorist? “Just a misunderstanding.”

“Check this link out.” Shannon sent me a link to a Kiro 7 news video.

“Authorities are looking for information on this man,” the female anchor reported, a security photo of Mark appearing on the screen, “in connection with yesterday’s gas attack on the South Hill Buy Best. He was later seen in the company of these two women at the local mall.” A security camera shot of Alison and I appeared walking with Mark. “There is a reward of $10,000 if you have any tips on the identity of the three individuals, call Crime Stoppers…”

“Shit,” I cursed.

“What?” Mark asked, a cardboard box in one hand full of random stuff.

“We’re wanted terrorists,” I answered, stunned.

“What?”

“That orgy you caused at the Buy Best. The cops think it was a gas attack. Like a terrorist attack or something. They have security footage of us.”

Mark shrugged. “So. What can they do to me? I say one word and they’ll let me go.”

“Well…” I frowned.

Mark was right. He could make anyone do what he wanted, and I was about to sell my own soul. I could get the same power. My stomach felt a little queasy. Did I want that much power. Sure, I wanted some power, and I enjoyed taking advantage of Mark’s, but did I actually want the responsibility for myself?

And what should I use my three wishes for? Maybe I should figure that out.

* * *

Doug Allard

“Chuck’s Automotive Care,” a bored woman answered.

“Hi, I’m looking for Mike Stone,” I said.

“He’s not here. Took a personal day.”

“Well, it’s real important that I speak to him. Do you have his number.”

“Well, I ain’t supposed to give it out.”

“What’s your name?”

“Minnie,” she answered.

“Well, Minnie, it’s real important that I talk to him.”

“I’m afraid I can’t give out personal information. You understand.”

“Right, right,” I sighed. “My name’s Doug. Could you pass a message on to him.”

“Yeah, I guess,” she answered. “I’m about to get off work and go see him. His girl dumped him yesterday and he needs some comforting.”

I almost laughed. I could hear the desire thick in her voice, and knew just how she planed on comforting Mike. “Yeah, sure.” I rattled off my number. “It’s very important that we speak. He has a chance to make some money.”

“Sure. I’ll tell him.”

“Thanks.”

I hung up, and went back to watching the Fitzsimmons house. Desiree and the pink-haired woman had headed straight back here after the visiting the sex shop. I watched the house for another hour, wondering if Mike was ever going to return my phone call. Well, if he didn’t call soon, I’d do a white pages search for him.

My phone rang.Doug Allard,” I answered.

“Uh, hi, you wanted to speak to me,” a male voice answered. “Something about money.”

“Yeah. I’m a P.I. named Doug and your girlfriend Mary—”

“She’s not my girlfriend anymore,” groused Mike.

“That’s right, baby,” cooed Minnie in the background. “You just forget all about that nasty bitch.”

“Anyway, I need information on her and a guy named Mark.”

“Fuck! That’s the asshole that stole her from me. Yesterday morning, she called me up and dumped me over the phone while this Mark guy was fucking her. What type of bitch does that?”

“Wow, that’s pretty messed up,” I admitted. I had heard of some terrible break up stories before, but never one that sadistic. “How long had she known Mark?”

“Fuck if I know! I thought things were going great. We made love the night before, she seemed happy, and then bam! She stabs me in the chest. The bitch even sent me a pic of her getting fucked while going down on another woman.”

“She’s just a dirty whore,” Minnie cooed in the background. “You never needed her. I’ll take care of you, baby.”

“I want to just beat the bitch’s—”

“What the fuck!” a new woman screeched in the background.

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!