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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 3.

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Host: Rumors continue to swirl around Satan’s Silvered Tongues about missing girls and incidences of violence at their concerts. But so far, authorities are not concerned and the band members are not under any investigation.

—MTV transcript, September 2nd, 1998

Mary Sullivan

I was horrified listening to my mom talk about the abuses she suffered at the hands of Kurt. The abuses, the torment. I clenched my fist, tears burning in my eyes. Mark and I never did anything like this. “And he kept you and Grace?”

“Just me,” Mother bitterly said. “I was his favorite. The woman he dreamed of.” Fresh tears leaked out of her eyes. “He told Grace to go and be a whore. To make a living selling her body.”

“And that was Grace Cooper?” I asked, my stomach queasy. “She had a daughter named Dawn?”

Mother nodded. You’re just like your cunt of a mother! She was a whore, too! And you grew up to be just like her! The words Dawn’s father yelled echoed through my mind as he spanked her last week when we made Dawn my little sister’s sex slave.

I thought we were punishing a bully.

But she was as much a victim of Kurt as her mother was. As I was. Dawn and I were both robbed of our mothers by that asshole. I suddenly felt sick. All the guilt I had been forcing down the last few weeks was threatening to overwhelm me.

Mark and I weren’t this evil. Right? We never abused a woman.

Except Karen, my guilt whispered. But we were punishing Karen. She attacked us. She almost got Desiree killed. She deserved her punishment. And we treated her well now. She became one of ours sluts after she surrendered to us. We loved her. We’d defend her just as much as we’d defend the others.

We would never hurt our sluts.

“Pat died on the floor of the garage from Kurt’s kicking. When the police came, Kurt just explained it as an accident and the police bought it. Pat would not be the last man Kurt killed. He was a sadist. A black-hearted monster.” Mom swallowed. “That night he got needles and pierced my nipples. It hurt so much. But not nearly as much as the piercings in my labia and the one in my clitoral hood. When he would feel vicious, he would pull on my piercings until I screamed. And the worst part was, I was happy that Kurt was hurting me.

“He replaced Pat on bass with Skinny Mat and then they started playing clubs. Thanks to Kurt’s wish, anyone who heard his band play would think they were amazing. Any woman would get all hot and horny for him and throw their panties on stage. Kurt would start to bring women up on stage and fuck them before the cheering crowd. If their boyfriends objected too much, Kurt would beat them. Some died, some got off with a few broken bones, and others were left brain damaged.”

I clutched my heart, shaking my head. I wanted to hug my mom. Mark and I weren’t this bad. We made our sluts enjoy what we did to them. We made them… love it…

Just like Kurt made my mom.

“And it wasn’t just men he beat. Some of the girls he chose would be beaten bloody or choked or cut. Some died.” A ragged sobbed escaped my mom’s lips. “By the end, he was getting off on killing. I saw such terrible things. And then, she appeared. My rescuer.”

* * *

Fifteen Years Ago – Tiffany Sullivan – Los Angeles, CA

My breasts were sore from Kurt’s affections as I lay on my side. Today, he chewed on my tits. He just loved them so much. But now they ached and were covered in bite marks. His cum cooled inside my pussy, and I enjoyed the afterglow of a nice orgasm.

Kurt’s dick never failed to leave me satisfied, even with all the pain I suffered.

A few girls knelt naked on the floor. Kurt stood before them, trying to decide which ones to show his affections to next. One of the girls—who had curly, light-brown hair—gave Kurt a mocking smile, almost a sneer. She glared at him with gray eyes filled with loathing.

Why would she do that? Didn’t she know she should be honored to be Kurt’s groupie?

“Fucking whore,” snarled Kurt.

Nothing would make Kurt angrier than being mocked. His hand snaked out and he grabbed the girl by the hair. She clamped her mouth shut to avoid screaming as Kurt heaved her across the room and into a heavy, wooden table. It was more of a workbench really. On it Kurt kept his tools for the girls who made him really angry: pliers, knives, hammers, needles, whips.

The skinning knife still had the last girl’s blood streaked on it.

The woman slammed into the table. Hard. The sharp corner caught her in the stomach. I winced as she grunted. She flopped across the table. Then she snatched up the bloody skinning knife, holding it up threateningly at Kurt.

I groaned. Kurt would skin her alive like he did with that mouthy girl. I didn’t want to watch that. I hated watching him punish girls.

“Fucking bitch,” he growled. “You really don’t understand who you’re fucking with.”

“A small-dicked asshole.” The woman’s mocking smile only grew larger as Kurt boldly walked over to her. She looked like a Valkyrie standing defiant against Kurt, unafraid despite being naked and smaller.

But her resistance was a futile gesture. No one could disobey Kurt. All fighting would earn you was pain. I wanted to close my eyes—my mind screamed at me, too—but Kurt liked it when I watched his chastisements.

When he would finish, he would be hard and I would have to satisfy him.

I felt so bad for this woman. Kurt was going to kill her, and it wouldn’t be quick. My stomach roiled and I wanted to sick up. But I couldn’t. Kurt didn’t like it when women threw up either.

“You will not stab me with that dagger,” Kurt ordered lazily. He stood right next to the woman, the knife inches away from his cuts. He held out his hand. “Give me that dagger so I can cut off your mocking lips, cunt.”

Kurt screamed as the woman stabbed his arm with the dagger instead. He staggered back, fear blossoming in his face as the blood ran red down his arm. His feet tripped on themselves and he fell on his ass. The woman walked towards him, bloody dagger in hand.

“Cut off my lips, huh?” she asked. No fear. “Fucking worm. You’re so pathetic.”

“Please,” Kurt gasped.

I smelled urine and realized Kurt had pissed himself, a dark stain spreading on his jeans.

The woman grabbed a pair of his handcuffs off Kurt’s worktable—he had quite a collection at this point. She twirled them as she held the dagger in a low, casual grip. She faced him, her smile growing wider.

“Please don’t hurt me?” Kurt blubbered like a baby as the woman advanced on him. “Who are you? Why don’t my powers work on you? Please, I can give you whatever you want. Please!”

“Handcuff yourself around the table leg,” she growled, tossing him the handcuffs.

Kurt was eager to obey, snapping the handcuff about his right wrist, wrapping the chain around the heavy table leg before cuffing his left hand. He was trapped. The table was heavy. He wouldn’t move it. “Please! I can give you wealth! Please don’t hurt me!”

The woman ignored his please and bent down, pulling off his urine soaked pants. His small cock came out, looking even tinier than usual. All the blood had fled his dick. It barely rose about his piss-stained pubic hair.

“Such a tiny prick for such a large monster,” the woman mocked, stroking the cock. The dick swelled unbidden in her hand. “No wonder you had to sell your soul. How could you ever get a woman, let alone satisfy one, with this little thing?”

Kurt sobbed, the tears ruining his macho rocker look. “I’ll do anything. Just don’t hurt me.”

The woman’s lip curled in disgust. “I am Sister Louise Afra of the Order of Mary Magdalene. I have been sent by God to stop your perversions, Warlock.”

I didn’t understand what he was saying. What was a warlock? And what was the Order of Mary Magdalene? She called herself a sister. Was she a nun? I had never seen a nun like her, naked and unafraid, terrorizing the great Kurt, the lead singer of Satan’s Silvered Tongue. Who ever heard of a nun giving a guy a handjob?

She did. And while holding a knife to his throat.

She straddled Kurt and guided his small cock to her pussy. She slid down it and let out a soft sigh. There was no mistaking the pleasure in her voice. She enjoyed the feel of his cock in her. My pussy clenched.

He did have a wonderful cock.

“If you wanted to fuck me, you just had to ask,” Kurt’s voice cracked with mock bravado, a forced grin on his face.

“When you cum in me, and you will cum, I will exorcise your powers.” A huge smile appeared on Sister Louise’s lips. “All the powers the Adversary gave you. No more adoring fans, no more women for you to abuse. All gone.”

“Fuck no,” groaned Kurt, his face paling. He thrashed until she pressed the knife tighter against his throat.

“Yes, you realize it now. All the people under your control will regain themselves. Everyone will remember all the lives you destroyed, all the pain you inflicted. I do not think the authorities will be so forgiving of all those accidental deaths any longer. And the women you raped… Oh, they will return to their normal selves, freed of your mind control. They will want justice”

“No, please no,” he begged as Sister Louise rose up and down on his cock. “I won’t cum. You can’t make me.”

“It’s biology, monster,” Sister Louise purred wickedly. The pleasure was unmistakable. She arched her back, her breasts jiggling as she rode him faster and faster. “You won’t be able to hold on forever. You’re eighteen. I bet it won’t be able to last long at all.”

“No, no, no,” Kurt groaned, his face twisting, his hips bucking.

“Oh, yes, ram that small cock into my cunt,” groaned the nun. “Yes, yes, yes. I love it. Fuck me with it. Mmm, yes. You make me so wet, Kurt. I love exorcising filth and delivering justice.”

“Please,” he blubbered, his hands straining. The handcuff chain rasped on the wood of the table as he jerked on it. “Please, you don’t have to do this. I can give you anything.”

“You only have poisoned gifts.” She slammed down his dick. “Your foul power is nothing compared to the Creator’s.”

I was transfixed by the sight. Everyone in the room was. The other girls, huddled around the room, watched in astonishment as Kurt cried and blubbered. He thrashed beneath Sister Louise while she rode him. I licked my lips, my pussy so wet.

It was hot. A part of me wanted to be as strong. Not to Kurt—I was a groupie—but to another man, punishing him for being wicked. My fingers slid down my naked body and rubbed at my pussy. I brushed my clit piercing, a hot surge of pleasure washing through me.

“Your dick is so small, I can barely feel it in my pussy.” She leaned over him as she rode him faster and faster, dangling her breasts in his face.

Kurt started looking around, looking for anything to help him. His eyes darted to mine. They were so wide, so childish. I fingered my clit harder, my thighs squeezing together. I let out a hot moan as I watched him.

“Mrs. Sullivan!” He never stopped calling me that. He loved it. I was his sexy, MILF groupie. “Save me! Attack her!”

My Kurt was in trouble. I was a good groupie. I had to save him.

I ripped my fingers from my pussy and leaped to my feet. I rushed at Sister Louise, hands outstretched to seize her and rip her off Kurt’s cock. Then I could fuck him. I could ride him and enjoy myself.

Sister Louise didn’t flinch as I barreled towards her. She dipped her hand down and slid her finger along her pussy lips and around his cock. Her fingertips glistened with her juices. She twisted her body and thrust our her wet finger as I bent down to grab her.

I seized her shoulders. Her pussy-stained finger drew on my forehead. She spoke a single word.

White light flared. I stumbled back, my thoughts banished from my mind. I tottered back and fell on my ass. I sat there, my eyes wide and watched the nun ride Kurt’s cock. Nothing mattered at all.

“What are you doing?” Kurt demanded, staring at me.

Nothing mattered.

“Save me. Get her off of me.”

Nothing mattered.

“Save me, you fucking cunt!” Kurt growled.

Sister Louise slapped him. His head snapped to the side. He let out a pain-filled whimper.

“The only cunt here is you,” she hissed. “A little cunt with a little dick who thought he was a big man.”

Sister Louise leaned back and bounced on him. She rolled her hips, undulating them, stirring his cock in her wet cunt. Her breasts bounced and her ass clenched. Then she shifted forward and ground her clit into his pubic bone. Her hands slid up, cupping her breasts and squeezing her nipples.

She loved humiliating Kurt.

Her moans grew louder and louder. “Oh, yes, your cock is so small but I’m enjoying it anyways. Ooh, you’re so helpless. You’re so pathetic. Oh, yes. What a little boy. And you’ve been so bad. But don’t worry. You’ll pay for your crimes. Oh, yes. Oh, fucking yes!”

She came and unleashed a low, throaty moan. Her breasts heaved beautifully as she bucked atop him. And she never stopped riding him as her orgasm burned through her body. She kept fucking him right through her orgasm.

“Lord, yes, thank you for this opportunity to serve and cleanse the world of evil,” she moaned, raising her arms over her head.

Kurt tossed his head. He bit his pierced lip. His body trembled. He squirmed on the ground. His eyes squeezed shut. He bucked harder and harder, straining against the handcuffs. He thrashed beneath her with a desperate frenzy.

“You’re getting closer,” smiled Sister Louise. “I can tell. Your cock can’t take much more of my hot, wet, juicy cunt. Can it? You want to erupt. You want to dump your cum inside of me. You want me to cleanse you.”

“Please,” he begged. “Please don’t do this to me. Don’t take it away. I was nothing without it.”

“You were nothing with it, worm.”

Kurt groaned. His body arched as he surrendered and came.

Sister Louise screamed, “Shalak!” and drew something on his forehead with her sticky finger. Kurt’s forehead blazed with white light and…

I was myself.

I blinked as my mind went to work again. The iron fist in my mind unclenched, releasing my thoughts to their normal patterns. I shook my head, struggling to understand why I was sitting on the floor naked and…

…everything Kurt did to me, every act he made me enjoy, every depravity he made me commit, every person he made me hurt poured into my mind. It overwhelmed me. So much pain and suffering and degradation.

I collapsed on the floor sobbing. A ragged ache filled my heart. I screamed out my helpless rage as I trembled, hugging myself. I betrayed my sweet Sean. I could remember the hurt in his eyes as I allowed Kurt to fuck me. My poor husband thought I betrayed him. I sobbed and sobbed, screaming in guilt. How could I have done that to my husband? To the only man I ever really loved? I’d lost him forever. There was no undoing what I did, what Sean saw. I remembered signing the divorce papers Kurt placed in front of me followed by signing away my parental rights to my daughters. I remembered writing that disgusting letter Kurt dictated to me.

“Sean,” I had been forced to write, the words seared into my mind, “You and the girls are just burdens to me. I want to have fun, to go out partying. To enjoy wild sex. I haven’t been happy for a long time. But I’m happy with Kurt. I’m happy when his cock fucks me. I’m happy when he cums in my cunt or my ass. I love it when he shares me with his friends. Your cock just wasn’t good enough for my horny cunt.”

I had signed my name and left the letter and the divorce documents on the bed I shared with Sean while he and the girls were out of the house. I packed up a suitcase with the few slutty clothes I owned from before the girls were born, and never even looked back.

And then the tortures. The girls Kurt harmed or, worse, forced me to hurt. The men he beat to death. The blood. The screams. They echoed through my mind. I was dirtied. It was more than the sex acts he made me commit. The stain went so much deeper than that.

I was filthy.

I sobbed and sobbed and then my savior was hugging me. “Shh, it’s alright. He can never hurt you again.”

I clung to her crying my pain into her chest as she gently rocked me.

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 5.

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