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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 6.

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Though Brandon Fitzsimmon’s betrayal of Doug Allard was a heinous crime, it set into motion a series of events that ended with the Tyrants’ downfall.

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

Mary Sullivan

“Master!” Jessica shouted half in a panic as she burst into the living room and turned on the television.

I half sat up in Mark’s arms as we cuddled on the couch as Jessica, completely naked, changed the channel. The orgy had wound down, the sluts were scattered about the room napping, their holes leaking with Mark’s cum. Everyone of the sluts wanted to get fucked by my fiance and to lick my pussy.

It had been a wild few hours.

“What?” Mark asked, sitting up behind me.

“I got a tip KING 5 news is about to run a story about you, Master,” Jessica answered, backing away from the TV now that it was turned to Channel 5. Jessica was a reporter for KIRO 7. Mark claimed he recruited her to keep tabs on the media, but I knew the truth—he saw a pretty face and a hot body. “It’s suppose to lead the eleven o’clock news.”

The credits for a TV show raced across the screen. KING 5 was the local NBC affiliate for Seattle. Then the news music played, and an announcer touted the professional and trustworthy nature of the anchors before it cut to the studio.

“Good evening, I’m Larry Siemen,” the male anchor introduced.

“And I’m Natalie Kramer, bringing you Seattle’s best news. Tonight, we are joined by investigative reporter, Carlos Guiterrez, for an explosive story about sex, bank robberies, terrorism, and corruption in Pierce County.”

“Thank you, Natalie,” a middle-aged Hispanic said, a wide shot showing him setting to the anchors’ right. “Nearly two weeks ago in the city of Puyallup, Mark Glassner,” a surveillance photo of Mark at the Buy Best appeared in the upper right corner of the screen, “used an as yet unidentified gas causing the now famous Best Buy Incident. We all know about Mark Glassner and those that defend and praise his actions. Even in our own field, at a competitors new stations, Mark’s biggest cheerleaders can be found.”

“Yes,” the female anchor interjected. “Jessica St. Pierre’s actions have definitely stretched the bounds of unbiased reporting.”

“Last Thursday, the FBI raided Mark Glassner’s house,” Carlos said. “They wore chemical gear to protect themselves from his gas when they entered his house. And then, dramatically, emerged without even arresting Mark. In fact, the lead agent exonerated Mark in his explosive interview with Jessica St. Pierre.”

“The FBI said they were mistaken, that Mark Glassner wasn’t the person responsible for these crimes,” the male anchor said. “As I understand it, Mark is no longer a suspect in the Buy Best Incident and may have even been a victim of whatever happened there.”

“We have a clip of that interview with Agent Peterson,” the female anchor smiled.

The screen shifted to Agent Peterson

“Mark Glassner is an innocent man,” Peterson said. “It was all my fault. I was too eager to make an arrest in the case, I didn’t use good judgment and our raid has terrorized an innocent man and his family.”

Mark chuckled. He was rather pleased for making Peterson say that.

“I have documents here,” Carlos said, holding up some papers, “from a source in the Justice Department that show Agent Peterson being detained and investigated. The FBI had concrete evidence on Mr. Glassner, yet Peterson, after raiding Mr. Glassner’s house, claimed he was innocent.”

“The FBI thinks their Agent was bribed by Mr. Glassner?” the female reporter asked in astonishment.

“Possibly,” Carlos answered. “They first suspected he was suffering from the gas, but nothing could be found in his system. The FBI is shifting away from the gas theory. Mr. Glassner has stolen over forty million dollars. And money is only one of the ways he can pay for silence.”

“Wow, that is unbelievable,” the male anchor said. “What is the other way?”

“Sex.” Carlos paused, letting the salacious word resonated.

“Or I just tell people what to do,” laughed Mark. “Maybe I should talk to this Carlos, make him say a few things.”

“Maybe,” I nodded, my stomach twisting. I did not like the tone of this interview.

“Today, I received a series of surveillance photos from Brandon Fitzsimmons,” Carlos said. “The house the FBI raided is owned by Brandon Fitzsimmons, who claims his wife is living with Mr. Glassner. Mr. Fitzsimmons had hired a private investigator to watch the house and the P.I. caught the entire raid on film.”

“That son of a bitch,” Mark growled. “I knew he’s been causing problems. We need to find him.”

“What did he mean, watching us?” I demanded.

On the screen, a video played, showing the backyard and left side of our house. A little of the front yard could also be seen and the cul-de-sac in front of the house. You could just make out police cars and swat vans parked before our house in the gray, pre-dawn light.

My blood chilled. You could also see in through the dining room windows and our, worse, bedroom’s window. You could see our bed. Mark’s hand tightened on my shoulder.

“Master, that had to be taken from one of the houses on Shaw Road,” Noel said in alarm as she stood.

“Figure out which,” Mark snarled, anger burning inside me.

“Yes, Master,” Chasity and Noel gasped as headed for the back of the house.

“The interesting part came after the Pierce County Sheriff Department’s SWAT officers raided the house on the FBI’s behalf,” Carlos continued.

Photos appeared, close up of various windows on the rear and side of the house. You could see SWAT officers in various states of undress fucking our sluts, blurred to hide any nudity. That morning, Mark had let the sluts fuck the SWAT officers. He liked supporting the boys in blue, and they deserved a little release. Even I got in on the fun, dominating a pair of strapping officers.

It was fun dominating weak men who thought they were strong.

“What am I watching here?” the female anchor asked, her eyes wide with shock.

“In the surveillance photo’s we’ve received there are upwards of a dozen women living in the house,” Carlos answered. “They are in various states of undress, and they appear to be giving sexual favors to the SWAT officers as some sort of bribes.”

“This is just astounding,” the male reported stated. “To think an entire unit of SWAT officers and an FBI agent would engage in this sort of behavior. It’s just disappointing.”

“Two FBI agents,” Carlos corrected. A picture of Noel appeared on the screen. “Special Agent Noel was also on the raid, and has appeared in many of the surveillance photos of the house in various states of undress, engaging in sex acts, along with Jessica St. Pierre, the KIRO 7 reporter whom Agent Peterson gave his original interview to.”

A picture of Chasity appeared on the screen, her naked tits fuzzed out.

“How long have we been watched?” I whispered, trembling in disgust. I felt violated.

“This is Officer Chasity Vinter of the Puyallup Police Department, also seen in surveillance tapes participating in the sex acts. There have been reports of unusual activity around the Shaw Road vicinity of Puyallup for the last week, and these reports have fallen on the deaf ears of the Puyallup Police Department.”

Chasity and Noel returned. “Master, we think we know which house is surveilling us.”

“Take all the guards and raid that house!” Mark snarled. “Bring me whomever or whatever you find! And where is my phone?”

“Who are you calling?” I asked as Mark stood up.

“The Sheriff. He needs to be warned.”

Mark had all the local law enforcement heads under his control, including the Pierce County Sheriff.

“Here you go, Master,” gasped Alison, racing up with his cell phone. He dialed as I sat on the couch, watching all the pictures. Now they were showing the night Karen attacked us. We let the sluts fuck the cops when I took Mark to the hospital.

“Have you seen the news report on Channel 5?” Mark demanded angrily, holding his phone in front of him. He clearly had it on speaker. He sat beside me on the couch.

“Yeah, just caught the end of it,” Sheriff Erkhart answered. “This is bad, Mr. Glassner.”

“Put out an APB on Brandon Fitzsimmons,” I hissed.

“Yes,” Mark added. “I let him have his independence, and this is how he repays me? I want him found and dragged before me!”

“I’m on it, sir,” the Sheriff answered.

Mark hung up.

“He’s been watching us, Mark,” I snarled, my anger and disgust boiling out of me. “You can see our bedroom in these photos.”

“Brandon’s going to regret this,” I told her. “Fuck, we’re going to have to do a lot of damage control.” I squeezed my fists. “When I get my fucking hands on him, he’s going to howl!”

* * *

Doug Allard

My phone rang. I sat up, the side of my face sticky with drool. I had fallen asleep, resting my cheek on the desk, while watching Mark’s house. I glanced at the monitors. On the infrared, Mark and his women were all in the living room still, recovering from their hours long orgy. I snagged my phone and stretched as I answered. Nothing interesting had happened since Mark and Mary’s return.

Just an orgy, and that happened every day it seemed.

“Did you forget to call back?” my wife asked.

“Sorry, Tina,” I answered, fighting off a yawn. “I fell asleep.”

“So, did Mary stop the nun’s plan?” My wife sounded eager. She wanted Mark to be stopped just as badly as I did, and not just because she missed having me home for the last week.

“Yeah, she did,” I sighed. “Everything is back to normal. They had an orgy to celebrate and there’s even a new girl roped into his harem.”

“And you’re safe, right?” my wife asked.

“You know I am. You’ve seen the rental house I’m stashed in. Mark can’t possibly know I’m here.”

Outside, doors banged opened. I looked out the window, not hearing what my wife said. Noel and Chasity stood naked on the front lawn while in the surrounding houses on the street, the bodyguard were piling out.

“What is going on?” I muttered.

“Are you there, Doug?” my wife shouted.

“Oh, sorry, Tina, something’s going. I’m putting you on speaker.” I hit the button and set my phone down before I grabbed a pair of binoculars and stared outside at Mark’s front yard.

“You’re safe, right?” Tina’s voice sounded shrill on speaker. “This Mark guy your watching, he was just on the news.”

I frowned, watching as the bodyguard piled into their patrol cars.

“What’s this about the news, honey?”

The lights on a half-dozen cop cars turned on, flooding the night with strobing red and blue lights. My stomach twisted. Where were the bodyguard heading in such a hurry? What had spooked Mark and Mary so badly? Were they under attack?

“They had pictures from your surveillance on the news,” Tina continued. “This guy sounds dangerous, are you sure you’re safe?”

My stomach sank, adrenaline pumped icily through my veins as I realized where the bodyguard were heading. “Shit, I got to go, Tina.”

I snagged my cell phone, swiped the screen off, and thrust it into my pocket. Then I grabbed my laptop, ripping out the cable connecting my laptop to the USB hub all my surveillance equipment was hooked into and ran for the stairs.

“Shit, shit, shit,” I snarled as I raced for the front door. My heart hammered in my chest. “Fuck! What the fuck did you do, Brandon?”

There was only one way the news could have gotten my surveillance pics. That fucking moron had to give it to them. He didn’t even tell me. Did he think Mark couldn’t figure out where those pictures were taken from?

I grabbed the front door handle. Tires squealed outside and police lights flashed through the front windows. My heart sank. There was no going out that way. I grunted and bolted for the empty dining room and the glass sliding door that led to the backyard.

Behind me, the front door splintered in and booted feet pounded into the house. Women shouted, “Police!”

I ran down the hallway for the dining room. I knew my exit routes. In the backyard was a pile of wood leaned against the fence. It provided a makeshift ladder that would get me over the fence and into the neighbor’s yard. My own car was parked a few houses down the street. I just needed to be quick and I could get away.

I reached the dining room, the sliding glass door in sight. I would make it. And then my hopes were dashed away as two bodyguards appeared out of the darkness and reached the sliding glass door, their guns drawn.

“Fuck!” I was trapped. I turned to face Mark’s bodyguard pouring in the front door. “Goddamn fucking Brandon Fitzsimmons!”

“Police!” the lead cop shouted. It was Chasity, a gold choker about her throat, naked save for a bulletproof vest. She had her gun leveled at me. “Hand’s on your head! Do it now!”

I slowly set my laptop down and put my hands on top of my head. Then I knelt on the linoleum. Noel, also naked, walked up, grasped my wrist, and handcuffed me. Anger boiled inside me as fear pumped through my veins. Tina’s face appeared in my mind. I clutched onto it as I trembled facing down the barrel of the gun. These women used to be cops. Now they belonged to Mark Glassner. What would happen to me?

Would they kill me? Or was I about to become Mark Glassner’s bitch? I wasn’t sure what was worse.

Please, god, I prayed, let me see my wife again. Please!

To be continued…

Click here for Naughty Nun Delight, Chapter 1.

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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!