The Devil’s Pact Revised 22: Naughty Nun Delight
Chapter Two
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 1.
Doug Allard’s capture by the Tyrants’ forces marked a turning point in the events swirling around the false gods. They learned they had a second enemy—Brandon Fitzsimmons.
—excerpt from The History of the Tyrants’ Theocracy, by Tina Allard
Brandon Fitzsimmons – Portland, OR
I stepped into my motel room. I paid with a company card that wasn’t under my name. I had refrained from using it so far. But hotel rooms required one these days, even for the seediest ones you could find. Hopefully, Mark wouldn’t be able to trace it.
I was out of Washington and into Oregon and no longer in his area of control. I fell back on the bed and turned on the TV. It was too little to hope a local affiliate would have picked up the story I fed Carlos Gutierrez at KING 5 news.
I yawned as I pulled open my laptop. I went online and went to KING 5’s website. They had the segment already on their site. It must have just finished airing. Despite how tired I was, I couldn’t help watching the broadcast. Seeing the image of Mark, Mary, and their whores fucking all those cops would create a firestorm.
By morning, it would be national news. Mark would be distracted, and I could slip off to San Fransisco and get to Europe and be even farther out of his reach. There, I would get a copy of the Magicks of the Witch of Endor. Whether I received the book from the nuns in France or the rich German nobleman, it wouldn’t matter.
Once I had that book, I would be Mark’s equal in power. Then I would school him on how it should be exercised.
* * *
Doug Allard – South Hill, WA
Anger and feared warred in me as Mark’s bodyguard, a cadre of brainwashed cops dressed in slutty uniforms, glared down at me. Chasity, the leader of the guard, stood before me naked save for her bulletproof vest, a pussy stained with Mark’s cum that was practically in my face.
The poor thing had her mind controlled like the others. She was Mark’s slave, and she was well armed.
Noel, the FBI agent turned slut, frisked me from behind. She dug her hand into my back pocket and pulled out my wallet. She handed it to Chasity who flipped it open while Noel went back to searching me, her hands efficient. Noel may be mostly naked and dripping with cum, but she still knew how to do her job.
“Doug Allard,” Chasity mused. “And a P.I.?”
She eyed me. These women were absolutely loyal. As angry as I was at Brandon for selling me out by handing over my surveillance pictures and videos to the news, I was more scared of what would happen next. Would Mark simply kill me? Or would he enslave me? Which was worse?
And what about my wife, Tina? Would he seek revenge against her?
My body trembled. My stomach twisted. If I got out of this I would kill Brandon. The idiot blew everything. He didn’t even give me a heads up to clear out before Mark and his whores figured out where they were being spied on from.
I hadn’t prayed in a long time, not since my second wife died. Please, god, please let me see Tina again. And if not, don’t let Mark hurt her.
A bodyguard came downstairs, her red hair bouncing about her shoulders. She saluted Chasity and reported, “Ma’am, there is an entire suite of high-end surveillance gear upstairs. Better stuff then my police department has.”
“Bag all of it, 01,” Chasity answered. The bodyguards were all addressed by their numbers. They all thought they loved it. I had seen them eager to please Mark and Mary, each happy they had been chosen to serve and protect them.
It was sick what Mark and Mary did.
“Let’s take him to see Master and Mistress,” Chasity ordered. “15, 16, take the prisoner. The rest search this place for any clues on Brandon.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the other women said, their eyes bright, happy to obey.
My cell phone, gripped in Noel’s hand, rang. My wife was calling. She must be absolutely terrified for me.
* * *
Mark Glassner
I stood with Mary on the private balcony of our bedroom staring at the house. I watched my bodyguard moving through it. My hand clenched. Mary’s face was red with anger. Surveillance photos and videos of our house had just appeared on the eleven o’clock news on channel 5. Our law enforcement sluts, Chasity and Noel, figured the photos must have been shot from a house on Shaw Road across the empty lot.
I wanted to kill Brandon.
That house had a perfect view of our bedroom. Someone watched me and my fiancee while we slept. Mary rubbed at her arms, her fact twisted with disgust. I didn’t blame her. I felt violated. According to the news, the surveillance photos were sent in by Brandon Fitzsimmons. I ordered a BOLO for Brandon’s arrest. Every cop in Pierce County searched for the bastard. I wanted him found and punished for the headaches he was causing me.
“We should have hunted Brandon down with more effort,” I snarled. “Who knew he was up to so much mischief. First the FBI and now hiring someone to watch us?”
Mary nodded and let out a hissing snarl.
And was he behind the cult that had been hired to kill me, too?
I put my arm around Mary’s waist, pulling her to me. She leaned her head on her shoulder. A shudder past through her. I kissed the crown of her head while my hand stroked her naked waist. “We’ll make Brandon pay.”
I nodded in agreement.
The Nextel in my hand chirped. “Chasity to Master.”
“Master,” I responded into my Nextel.
“We have one prisoner and we’re still searching the house,” Chasity reported in a professional, commanding voice. She sounded like a cop. Well, she had been a cop before I made her my sex slave. Chasity commanded the bodyguards, with Noel, our FBI slut, as her second in command. “I’m returning with the prisoner.
“Good work,” I praised her.
“Thank you, Master,” Chasity replied, her professional voice slipping back into the pleased, girlish voice of Chasity the sex slave.
“Let’s go,” I said to Mary.
“After we dress,” Mary answered.
I grinned. “I forgot.”
“Horny stallion,” she sighed.
Mary and I dressed quickly and then headed downstairs. We waited in the living room, sitting on the couch. What should I do to the man? It couldn’t be Brandon. Chasity would have mentioned if she caught that asshole. But I had to do something with the prisoner.
Maybe Mary had an idea.
Before I could ask, the front door burst open. “Don’t even think of trying anything,” Chasity barked. “If you try to harm Master or Mistress, I will put a bullet in your head.”
Mary jumped at Chasity’s words, her face paling.
I squeezed her hand. “We won’t kill him.”
She nodded and sighed in relief. “I’m not sure I could have anyone killed.”
Chasity and 30, a Thai bodyguard, marched in an overweight, balding, middle-aged man into the house. The prisoner wore a t-shirt and sweat pants, thick glasses hung askew on his face. There was anger in his eyes as he was marched before us. Beneath the anger was something else.
Fear.
I suddenly felt…powerful. I inspired fear in the insect.
“Who are you?” Mary demanded, her pale face growing red again. She was still angry about being spied upon.
“Doug Allard,” the man answered promptly then blinked in surprise. People were always surprised by how readily they cooperated with us. He sighed. “What do you need to know. I can’t resist you and your powers.”
“Brandon Fitzsimmons hired you, right?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’m a P.I. What are you going to do to me?”
I ignored his question. “How long have you been watching us?”
“Awhile,” he replied. He swallowed. “Since Friday of last week. I was already tailing Desiree on behalf of Brandon. I witnessed you in the house and Desiree acting strangely. I reached out to Brandon and he told me to investigate. So I dug into you. After you defeated the nun, Brandon stashed me in the house. We were both looking to stop you.”
“Did you hire the cultist?” I growled. Someone hired a cult of demon worshipers to kill me.
“No.”
“Did Brandon?” Mark demanded.
He almost said no, then paused. “I don’t know what Brandon was doing. I haven’t seen him in person since last Tuesday. I just sent him the surveillance files and talk on a phone.”
A Black bodyguard entered, a laptop tucked under her arm. “Sir,” 18 saluted and handed me the laptop.
“Are all your surveillance files on here?” I asked.
“No, I have online backups.” He shrugged. “You know, in the cloud. Plus, I’ve sent copies of everything to Brandon.”
I handed him his laptop. “Delete all you can,” I ordered. “Including all your backups in the cloud. Uncuff him.”
Doug rubbed his wrists when the handcuffs came off. Then he took his laptop from the bodyguard and started typing.
“Where is Brandon?” Mary asked. “He’s not answering his cell phone. We would just love to see him again.”
“He’s gone off the grid,” Doug admitted. “I send him emails and he has a burner phone I send texts to. He’s paranoid about those. He has changed burner phones twice since I started working for him.”
“I want you to find him,” I told him. “Track him down and let me know where he is.”
“Okay,” Doug said. “You’re not going to do anything else to me?” Surprise and relief tinged his voice.
“No, no,” I told him. Doug was a P.I. That could be useful. “Brandon’s the real problem. I’ll give you, what, a million dollars, to cover your fees and expenses. You will do nothing to work against us. In fact, you are happy to work for us and you’ll do anything to accomplish your mission. Chantal will give you our numbers. Contact us if you find anything or run into trouble.”
Doug nodded his head. “Absolutely. Brandon pissed all over me by hanging me out to dry. I don’t care what you do to him.”
* * *
Doug Allard – Tacoma, WA
I pulled into my driveway. My wife burst out of the front door before I could even get out of the car. “Doug!”
She flung herself into my embrace. “I’m fine,” I told her. “I don’t have long. I’m just picking up a few things, and then I need to get back at it.”
“So you didn’t get captured?” Tina asked me as she clung to my side.
“I did,” I answered. “I’m working for Mark now.”
Her fingers tightened on my wrist. “What?”
“I’m helping him find Brandon.” Anger burst through me. “That asshole left me pissing in the wind. I’m lucky Mark was merciful. Hell, he’s even paying me a million dollars for expenses. I get to keep what’s left over.” I grinned at my wife. “We’ll be fixing that roof and I can get a better car.”
“You’re working for him?” my wife swallowed. “What about…stopping him?”
I frowned. “Why would I stop him? I work for him. It’s a great opportunity.”
My wife groaned. Her knees buckled and she sank to our living room floor. All the color had drained from her face. Her eyes were wide with horror.
“He isn’t a bad guy like we thought,” I told her.
“Y-you’re under his power.” She swallowed. “His mind control.”
“I guess,” I shrugged. “It’s not that bad. I don’t feel enslaved. I feel…indebted. He’s given me a chance to take down that asshole while giving us a better life.” I walked back to my wife and helped her up. Tears ran down her cheeks. “Relax, honey. Nothing’s going to go wrong. I’m still me. I still love you. I just have to do this mission for Mark. I need to pack clean clothes. Did you do my laundry?”
She nodded her head, her body trembling in my arms.
“I love you, Tina,” I told her.
“O-okay.” She sniffed loudly. “I…this is…it’s just…he’s evil.”
I laughed. “I thought so, too. But it’s all so clear now. He’s different. Important.” I kissed her forehead. “No I have to get going. Mark wants Brandon found ASAP. I’m going to be running down leads all night.”
To be continued…
Click here for Chapter 3.
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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!
Hell, he’s even paying me a million dollars for expensive
Should be expenses
It should be. Thanks. 🙂