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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 4.

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I received my great Calling in the most unlikely of places: the locker room of Rogers Community College. When I came to school that day in June, I had no idea that the Majesty of the Living God would grace me with His divine blessing. I had been reforged in an orgy of sapphic love, stripped of all my moral hang-ups, and made into a new woman—a slave for my lover and Master. The Living God filled me with His Love and Passion, and so I set out with my lover and Master, Brian, to preach the truth of Love to those with closed minds.

—Second Missionaries 1:1-3

Vivian Anders – Spanaway, WA

I stared at the pregnancy test. Two pink lines. They appeared almost immediately after I pissed on the absorbent end.

“I’m pregnant,” I whispered to myself as I stumbled out of the bathroom. I looked over at my girlfriend, Cynthia. She sat on our bed, a hopeful, concerned, worried expression on her face. So many emotions.

“I didn’t get what you said,” she said, biting her lip. “You mumbled.”

I walked past our webcam, setup on a tripod to stream our lovemaking on the internet, and reached the bed. “I’m pregnant, Sin.”

When my period did not come on time, I tried to tell myself I was just late. It happens to some women. Not to me. At least, not since I was fourteen and had my first period. But maybe I was just stressed or something. I had come out to my parents about being gay—turned out my mom was a closet dyke and we had such a wonderful threesome—and moved in with my girlfriend. We were streaming our lovemaking, just like Mark wanted while I had to deal with my dad, who had no idea what Mom did at those “women’s meetings” for church, badgered me about sexual counseling and praying the gay away.

It was all so much. Ever since I met Mark Glassner that morning in the Starbuzz coffee shop, my life had changed. He introduced me to my Sweet Sin and showed me my true desires. So I didn’t even realize my period hadn’t come until this morning while peeing on the toilet and it struck me. I realized I was overdue, that I might be pregnant.

And I was. And there was only one man who could be the father.

Mark Glassner.

I remembered that glorious day that Mark Glassner walked into the Starbuzz. It was a Thursday. I stood in line, waiting for my morning fix. Mark walked in, kicked out all the customers, and fucked me and Cynthia and Mary. It was so hot how he took control. And I fell in love with Cynthia that day. Since then, Cynthia had quit her job, and we were supporting ourselves by streaming our lovemaking on nasty-girls-live.com.

“You’re pregnant?” Cynthia repeated. The punk girl’s expression softened. Awe and love washed across her face. And then she gave an excited squeal. I had never seen her like this at all. “We’re having a baby!”

She hugged me and kissed me. I would have to thank Mark when I saw him for giving me a family. I guess I would see him at his wedding. The invitations arrived not too long ago, and Cynthia and I spent a fun day shopping for dresses.

“…at Mark Glassner’s residence.”

Hearing Mark Glassner’s name broke me out of the sweet kiss. He was always on the news. What had he done now? I glanced at the TV sitting on Cynthia’s dresser facing the bed. It was the news. Cynthia and I had been following his exploits, wondering how he could do the things he did. He caused an orgy at Buy Best the same day he fucked us at the Starbuzz. And there were all those bank robberies that weren’t really robberies. On the TV, there was a clip of men in black shooting automatic weapons. I frowned.

What was going on?

“Violence erupted in this quiet street in South Hill,” the female reporter said. The crawl at the bottom of the screen identified her as Debra Horne-Darnell of Q13 Fox News. “I’m standing here in the aftermath of a brutal attack by the disgraced Pierce County SWAT Officers on the home of Mark Glassner. Last week, it came out that this exact same SWAT unit was embroiled in a sexual misconduct scandal centered around the Glassner residence.

“What you are about to watch is graphic,” Debra warned.

An image of Mark Glassner talking with a black-haired woman played on the TV. I jumped as Mark took an entire gun-full of bullets to the chest. He stumbled backward and fell on the grass, the woman who shot him jerking as Mark’s bodyguards took her down.

“Oh no,” I gasped, my heart clenching. Cynthia squeezed my hand as I watched the father of my child dying on the TV.

“As Mark lay dying, the SWAT officers attacked,” Debra reported. “My cameraman and I were on the scene prepping a story when we captured the firefight.” More clips of a shootout were shown. We would catch glimpses of Mark being worked on by two women, one in a slutty nurse’s outfit and the other in a slutty cop’s outfit during the firefight.

“How courageous,” I whispered to Cynthia as I was riveted to the TV.

“What?” she asked.

“The bodyguards. They’re trying to protect him while they’re dressed in naughty Halloween costumes.”

Cynthia gave a wicked laugh. “I bet that’s Mark’s doing.” Then her smile faded as she stared at the TV. “Fuck.”

I nodded my head.

“The most amazing part came after the firefight ended,” Debra said. There was something in her voice, almost reverent. Awe, maybe?

The clip changed to three paramedics working over Mark when suddenly a scarlet light engulfed the dying man. Everyone around him froze, the paramedics, the watching cops, even the reporter. Then Mark pulled off the oxygen mask, ripped out the IV and sat up, looking hale and hearty.

My heart hammered in amazement. What was going on?

“What the BLEEP?” a paramedic shouted, his expletive censored. My thoughts whirled in my head. That paramedic was right, what the bleep?

Mark ripped off the bandages and in full HD you could clearly see perfectly unblemished skin beneath the bloody bandages. Mark gave a wordless, exhilarating roar then shouted, “I am alive! Mary, I’m alive!”

“It’s a miracle,” the female paramedic gasped. “The wounds have healed. My God, they’re completely gone.”

A confused chatter broke out among the cops and firemen standing around. “How?” someone asked. “A miracle,” and, “Praise God,” could be heard.

“What are you…?” a fireman asked, and the clip ended, cutting back to the studio with a picture-in-picture of Debra live on location in the corner of the screen.

“What do you think happened?” the anchor asked Debra.

“A miracle,” Debra said, her eyes shining with unprofessional fervor. “Mark Glassner is some sort of divine creature. A god, maybe. It explains everything about him. Why people obey him.”

The anchor’s forehead furrowed. “Did you say… he’s a god, Debra?”

“Yes, a god. A living god.” Rapture transformed Debra’s face, her eyes unfocused. “A miracle happened in South Hill today. It was real. He was dying, perforated by bullets, and then he healed himself. He is a great man. We should all be—”

Debra’s rant was cut off and the anchor apologized, “We’re having technical problems with the signal from Debra. A tragic day in South Hill, six cops dead and many more injured, from a shoot-out with—”

I turned the TV off.

I rubbed my belly, my eyes wide in amazement as I glanced at Cynthia. She was equally stunned. Mark Glassner was a god. He was shot and killed and came back to life. He was a god. That’s how he made an entire store full of people fuck each other. How could you refuse a god anything? I couldn’t. I reached down, stroking my flat stomach.

A little god grew inside me. Cynthia reached out and stroked my belly, tenderly. She thought the same thing I was. Mark Glassner had blessed my family and the entire world needed to know.

I pulled out my phone and sent out a tweet: “#MarkGlassnerIsGod and I am carrying his child!”

* * *

Aurora Miller – Graham, WA

My phone vibrated. My sister sent me a tweet. Well, a re-tweet from someone named Vivian Anders. “#MarkGlassnerIsGod and I am carrying his child!”

“Can you believe how crazy this is?” my sister tweeted at me. “You met that guy. A god? That’s bullshit. He raped you with his gas.”

I frowned. I did know Mark. I could vividly remember that day three weeks ago when he walked into The Secret Treasure, the lingerie shop in the South Hill Mall where I worked. He was accompanied by his girlfriend, Mary, and some pink-haired chick they called their “slut.” Before I knew what was happening, my co-worker Heather and I were sucking Mark’s cock while his girlfriend and the slut modeled lingerie.

To this day, I do not know what came over me. The FBI said he used gas on me, but I never saw it. Whatever Mark said, I would do. I sucked his cock, then I happily ate my first pussy, Heather’s, as she returned the favor. Mark wanted us to eat each other’s cunts and ordered us to sixty-nine.

So we did.

We would have done anything for him and his girlfriend. Afterward, Heather and I could not look each other in the eyes. We knew we weren’t ourselves that day, but neither of us could forget what Mark made us do to each other. Heather switched shifts so we wouldn’t work together any longer—that was how awkward it had grown between us.

But what was this tweet about? Why would anyone think Mark Glassner was a god?

I googled on my phone about Mark being a god and dozens of links popped up. The first was a YouTube vid. Thirty minutes of unedited news clip dubbed, “The Miracle in South Hill.” The clip was uploaded by reporter-deb13 and already had ten million views. I watched in fascination as Mark was shot by a woman a bunch of times in the chest, the intense firefight that followed, and then the scarlet light and the miracle of Mark coming back to life. At the end of the clip, the poster, reporter Debra Horne-Darnell, gave a breathless rant about how Mark Glassner was a god or some sort of divine being. Then the rest of the clip was her interviewing the cops, firemen and paramedics who witnessed the miracle. All of them agreed that Mark was shot five times and then, amazingly, was healed. These professional-looking men and women were shaken. Some with disbelief, others with worshipful awe.

My eyes were wide in comprehension in why I obeyed him. He didn’t gas me—which was ridiculous idea—to make me a slut that day. Whoever heard of a gas that could make you a slut for a man and then left no chemical trace in the body?

No, I had been touched by a god, tasted his seed.

I was blessed.

I started typing a comment to the video—the world had to know.

* * *

Jessica “Jessie” Smith – South Hill, WA

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck my ass,” I moaned as my boyfriend, and pimp, pounded me from behind, his cock sliding in and out of my asshole, a final romp before my evening “escorting” a wealthy client.

Since the Buy Best orgy, Kevin and I had found our true calling—a pimp and his ho. I loved being a prostitute, of giving the best customer service in the world. I learned it when Mark Glassner had me service every guy in the store. They queued up behind me, fucking me one after the other, getting their satisfaction.

That day changed my life for the better. Now I had Kevin, my huge-dicked boyfriend whom I loved, and we had our business Divine Escorts. It was growing rapidly, and we were about to add another couple girls to our roster of sluts—Rosalita and Stacy, my coworkers from the Buy Best. They were eager to quit working for minimum wage and make real money.

“Yes, yes, fuck my ass,” I moaned, working my hips, Kevin’s balls smacking into my taint.”

“Holy shit, you have to see this,” gasped my roommate, Ann, as she burst out of her bedroom wearing only a thong, her naked tits bouncing. She was the first whore to sign up with our company. “Mark Glassner just came back from the dead. People are calling him a god.”

Kevin stopped in mid-thrust, his dick buried in my ass. “What?”

“See.” Ann brandished her tablet, opened to a YouTube video. “Just watch. You have to understand.”

We did. My eyes widened as the miracle happened. He was a god. It was so clear. I snagged my phone and tagged every single one of our coworkers from the Buy Best, all of those who had wondered why they participated in the orgy, and showed them why there lives were changed by Mark Glassner.

It all made such sense. He was a god. He taught us all a new form of open love and acceptance of our sexual desires. I hit send then rocked back into Kevin’s cock. “I’ve fucked a god, Kevin. A god.”

“Shit,” he groaned. “We can charge more for people to fuck you.”

“Yes,” I squealed and came.

* * *

Lucy McKay – Puyallup, WA

“Oh, god, that was good,” I moaned, falling back on my pillow, pleasure bursting through my body while my lover, Fatima, lifted her gaze from between my thighs, her face smeared with my juices.

“Are you sure you don’t want more?” Fatima asked, her dark eyes shining.

“No, my dusky, insatiable lesbian,” I groaned. “I got to get ready for work.”

Fatima leaned up, her right wrist still bandaged from her suicide attempt, and planted a hot kiss on my lips. The last two days had been a dream thanks to Fatima. We were together. She had finally accepted who she was—a lesbian. All thanks to Mark Glassner. I moaned into the kiss, our sweaty bodies pressing together.

We had made love constantly since our reunion Monday afternoon.

My phone chirped.

I groaned, breaking the kiss. “I have to get ready for work, Fatima.”

“Oh, fine,” she moaned, rolling off of me, her legs spread wide. “And I’m so horny.”

“Well, you wanted to keep licking my pussy,” I giggled. “And you didn’t let me return the favor, now did you? Now I have to earn the big bucks and keep the lights on and us fed.” I had the evening shift at the Buy Best. I hated working evenings. I usually worked days, but once a week Oscar, the manager, gave me this shift.

I snagged my phone on my way to the bathroom, checking the notification. It was a text from Jessie, my coworker who quit her job to become a prostitute. Well, she was happy with Kevin, another coworker and her boyfriend/pimp. I never thought those two would ever hook up, but the orgy changed us all.

My eyes gaped at her text. “Watch immediately. Mark Glassner is a god.”

“Fatima,” I said, curiosity burning through me. I hit play, coming back to the bed. “I think we should watch this.”

The video was stunning. We were both convinced. Mark Glassner was a god who brought us such happiness. He gave us what we needed even though neither Fatima or I knew it. He showed us we were soulmates.

I cried with her as we embraced.

Fuck work. This was far more important.

* * *

Brian Carpenter – South Hill, WA

“I can’t believe this,” my girlfriend said, squirming in her pink ropes. Other than the bonds wrapping her cute body, she was naked and kneeling before me, her ass wiggling. “He’s a god, Brian. A god.”

“And he ensured we could be together and experience our true desires,” I groaned, staring down at the woman I loved. My sex slave. My girlfriend. We were both so repressed by Christianity, neither of us could admit to each other what we really wanted.

This.

And then Mark cut through it all with a few simple worlds. He changed us both.

“People have to know, sir,” Suzette said, her eyes wide. “We have to tell them. We have to spread the word. He changed us. Touched us. He is a god. A living god.”

“Yes,” I agreed then laughed. “We always talked about being missionaries together.”

* * *

Beth Philips – Sumner, WA

I sat on the couch, next to my husband, Eric, watching the “Miracle in South Hill” YouTube clip on my tablet, those annoying earbuds pinching my ears. I had to wear them so I wouldn’t disrupt my husband’s precious TV time.

Mark Glassner had made the news again.

I had seen him on the news many times since that day three weeks ago when he fucked me in the bathroom of the Larson Volkswagen Dealership. My husband, Eric, and I had been out shopping for a new car when Mark walked up to me, told me to go to the bathroom, and wait for him there naked. Not understanding why I did it, I followed his orders. He fucked me in that bathroom while my husband waited outside the door.

Eric thought I had a stomach bug, but really I was having the best sex of my life.

I couldn’t stop thinking of Mark Glassner. Every time my husband’s small dick was in me, the few times he’s fucked me since that day, I thought of Mark’s big cock. How great it felt as it plowed into me, stretching me, making me cum. Eric hadn’t satisfied me with his cock since. I even had to buy a dildo to pleasure myself with, pretending it was Mark fucking me again.

A few days ago, I found out I was pregnant.

After Mark, I hadn’t slept with my husband for a week. The timing was right with my ovulation cycle for Mark to be the father. I didn’t know how to tell my husband I was having another man’s child. I didn’t know how to tell my husband that I didn’t want to be his wife any longer. There had been a rift growing between Eric and me which Mark split wide open that day.

And now my entire world had changed.

When I got home from work, I got on Reddit, like I always did, and this YouTube clip was at the top of the front page with over 7,000,000 upvotes—the number one story on the site. So I clicked on the link and could not tear my eyes away for the entire thirty minute clip. Now my mind whiled. What had I just witnessed? A miracle? A god?

I scrolled through the comments. People were debating the video, some said it was a hoax, others a miracle, and a few claimed it was aliens. One comment jumped out at me, from aurora45: “I drank Mark’s seed. I am blessed by him. He is a god. My coworker and I pleasured each other for him. All it took was his word, and we were his slaves. He is a god!”

He is a god.

The words crystallized in my mind. The way I had acted that day, the way his voice reached into my soul and compelled me to submit to him. It wasn’t normal. No man had ever so thoroughly dominated me with so little effort.

But a god… Yes, a god could do that. No wonder the world was changing. No wonder Mark Glassner was creating such a swirl about him the last few weeks. Every time the news was on, they talked about him. He had come to this world, the divine clothed in real flesh.

No wonder Eric’s cock couldn’t satisfy me. I had lain with a god. What mere mortal’s cock could ever satisfy me again?

A god planted a child inside me. My hand rubbed unconsciously at my stomach.

Another user, Anastasia Milburn, created a Google+ community titled, “Women Who’ve Lain with Mark Glassner.”

I clicked on the link and read with fascination as Anastasia described meeting Mark while jogging. At first she was shocked, then he commanded her to jog naked with him and it was all so clear. She stripped on the spot. When they returned to her house, Mark fucked her in the kitchen as her husband showered upstairs. “Now I’m Mark’s slut and my husband’s slut and I’ve never been happier. I missed my period today. I may be carrying Mark’s child. My hubby is so happy to share me with a god.”

Anastasia also posted a video, clearly taken on a cell phone. “It’s over, Stan,” a woman shouted. The image showed a different angle from the YouTube video. Police and ambulances streamed past, heading for the lawn where Mark lay. “My god, I think Mark’s been shot.” Alarm filled her voice.

“It’ll be okay, Ana,” the man, presumably Stan, said.

The video played for a few more minutes with the occasional comment from Anastasia and her husband, Stan, as paramedics worked on Mark. My stomach clenched as the moment neared. Another angle from another video of the miracle. Then the crimson light flared.

It wasn’t a hoax. Not with another camera capturing it.

Mark sat up as Anastasia gasped over and over: “Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod!”

“A miracle,” Stan whispered in awe.

And the video ended.

Other women were joining the group, describing their encounters with Mark Glassner and his consort, the beautiful, and possibly divine, Mary. Lucy McKay wrote, “I worked at Buy Best and was there during the orgy. Mark Glassner fucked me from behind as I ate out Fatima’s pussy. No one knows how Mark made us all fuck each other. He must be angel or a god or something. Now Fatima and I are dating and we’re so happy. It’s all thanks to Mark Glassner.”

Rosalita commented on Lucy McKay’s post: “I know. Me and Stacey are so happy. And we never would have gotten together if the orgy never happened. Thank you, Mark. Thank you so much.”

My pussy began to itch in my pants. I had to get off. “I’m going to lie down,” I lied to Eric.

“Sure,” he said. One of those stupid singing-competition shows was on. Eric loved them. He would be watching TV until ten. Plenty of time for me to get off once or twice.

I took my tablet into the bedroom. Door closed, I shimmied out of my pants and panties, my hips wiggling. I ran a finger through the fine down of hair that grew between my legs, yellow as corn silk and just as soft. I was wet, the juices matting down the hair around my pussy. I pulled out the big, purple dildo from my panties drawer and settled onto the bed.

Yvonne Deponty posted: “I work as a night concierge at Four Seasons in Seattle. Few weeks ago, Mark and six naked women piled out of limo in the middle of night. Mark took one look at me and I was butter in his hands. He fucked my snatch hard in the elevator ride up to his room. I’ve never been such a slut in my life and I loved it.”

I pushed the dildo up inside me, groaning as the rubber cock filled up my cunt. I gripped it by the base and pushed slowly in and out of my wet cunt. A shiver of pleasure ran through me and I eagerly read the next account.

“Hi, everyone. I’m Macy,” Macy Gladwyn wrote, “and yesterday I was in court to divorce my loser husband when Mark walked in with two gorgeous women and sat beside me. His women wore chokers that said they were his sluts. Alison, I think one was named, and the other was a beautiful Latina. I sucked Mark’s cock and he fucked me up the ass in the courtroom!!! He told the judge to let us fuck and the dried up ol’ hag just let us!!! I came so hard!!”

I slid my dildo faster and harder inside me. My breath quickening as the excitement built. My sphincter clenched, naughty thoughts racing through my mind. I’ve never been fucked up the ass before. Eric always wanted to do it, but it always sounded so dirty. But reading Macy’s account left me wondering what it was like if Mark fucked my ass.

I purred in delight, fucking my cunt faster and faster, pleasure fluttering through me. Maybe I would shove my dildo up there and give myself a nice little cum. I wiggled my hips and let out a soft sigh and kept reading.

“Hey all,” Bonnie Slate wrote. “I’ve not fucked Mark, yet. But I ate out his fiancee, the very beautiful Mary Sullivan. She’s the most heavenly woman I’ve ever met. She seduced me while I took her measurements for her wedding dress. My little pussy’s getting wet just thinking about it. She came in yesterday with her bridesmaids and we had a wild time in my backroom. Mark must be quite a guy to please that woman! She must be a goddess, too.”

I hammered the dildo in and out of my pussy as I read Daffodil Ethan’s account, my toes curling. “Just finished up my first year at Rogers Community College. On the last week of school, Mark walked into our locker room and sent our gym teacher packing. He ordered us gals to strip naked and we had an orgy in the locker room. It was so wild. I gave Mark a titty fuck with my big ol’ cans and he gave me a nice cum bath.”

Daffodil upload a pic of her “big ol’ cans.” She was a lovely girl, brunette, with large tits topped with fat, pink nipples. I pictured those tits wrapped around Mark’s cock, his cum spewing all over those luscious melons. I licked my lips, pumping my dildo so fast in and out of my pussy until I shuddered with delight.

My tablet slid off my chest onto the bed next to me as the pleasure burst inside of me. My pussy spasmed on it. I gasped and moaned, picturing it was Mark fucking me. A god ramming his heavenly cock into my pussy and making me squeal. It was wonderful.

“Yes, yes, yes, Mark. Your whore. Your pregnant whore!”

My orgasm died down. I groaned and pulled my dildo out of my cunt. I couldn’t resist licking my tart juices off, pretending I cleaned His dick. I closed my eyes, savoring my flavor as I sucked on the tip, my pussy on fire.

I needed another cum.

I fumbled for the KY jelly I kept in a drawer on my nightstand—Eric rarely makes me wet any longer, so I had to buy lube. I slicked my dildo until it glistened, bent my legs, and searched for my asshole. I found it, rubbing my big old dildo against the puckered opening.

“Fuck my ass, God,” I moaned

I pushed slowly. My eyes widened as my asshole resisted. A strange, burning pleasure flowed out of my ass. I groaned, trembling, eager to feel the dildo inside of me. I pushed harder, straining. And then the tip popped into my asshole.

“Holy shit!” I gasped as I pushed the dildo deeper and deeper. I felt so full back there.

I grabbed the tablet and kept reading. There was a reply to Daffodil’s story from Addison Savidge. “Oh wow I was in that gym class. That was wild. I ate out so many girls’ cunts. Super fun!! I’ve been dreaming about Mark coming back for next year. He’s like one of those Greek gods from mythology, ya know, who comes down and fucks us mortal chicks!! And my best friend, Suzette, was also in that orgy. She was such an uptight Christian, but now she is her boyfriend’s sex slave. Brian and her are so cute together. We had at threesome the other night and I totally spanked my best friend’s ass while she sucked Brian’s cock. Then she ate my pussy while he fucked her ass. It was sooo hot!!!”

I rolled over onto my side—it was easier fucking my ass than my back—and pumped the dildo in and out of my bowels. The pleasure was great once I relaxed my sphincter. I had my tablet before me, reading more and more comments as I worked myself to another wonderful orgasm.

I only wished it was Mark’s cock reaming my ass. I bet that would feel even more amazing. That Macy girl was so lucky to experience Mark’s cock in her asshole.

“Me and Mom jog with Mark every morning!!!!” a Cassie Blackwood wrote. “I love being Mark’s slut with my mom. We are so close now. At home me and Mom are sluts for Daddy!! I’m so glad I met Mark!! I’d tots worship him as a god!”

“Yes, yes! I would worship him, too,” I moaned, pumping the dildo faster. I would kneel before Mark and suck his cock and receive his blessing straight from the source.

My orgasm swelled. Every time the dildo slid into my ass, the friction sent wonderful delight sparking to my pussy. A fire burned in my depths, a growing inferno fed by the dildo fucking my asshole. My body clenched.

“Oh, Mark!” I moaned. “Mmm, let me be yours! Let me taste your godly cum!”

My orgasm crashed through me, stars swimming in my eyes and I could see Mark. He was watching me cum for him. He was holy. I gasped, my back arching as the pleasure bathed my mind. It was so intense, so hot. I reached out for the vision of him, wanting to touch him. Wanting to love and worship him.

And then my pleasure faded along with the vision.

Panting, I slowly pulled the dildo out of my ass. Glancing at my tablet, I saw there was a new post. “I’m out on the street where Mark lives hoping to get a glimpse of him!” a Nina Royceston posted, along with a pic of her in front of a housing development called “Mountain View Estates.” She was a pretty, eighteen-year-old girl with black hair in a plaited braid and a smiling face. She wore a red sundress decorated with white flowers. The photo was captioned with, “This is the dress I wore when Mark fucked me in the movie theater.”

I found my pants and a pair of comfortable shoes, then I pulled on the most revealing blouse I had. No bra—I wanted my assets to be on display. I knew what I had to do. As I walked out into the living room I took one last look at my pathetic husband.

“I’m leaving,” I told him.

“Where are you going, Beth?” he asked, eyes still focused on the TV.

“To be with my god.”

* * *

Rose Cunningham – South Hill, WA

“Oh, Mom,” I moaned. “Oh, yes, that’s it. Eat my pussy.”

I sat on the couch in the living room letting my mom lez out on my pussy. She was a really good muff-diver. Her tongue dug through my blonde-furred snatch as I gripped her brown hair and ground my pussy into her gentle lips. My twin sister, Daisy, knelt behind Mom and fucked her with a strap-on dildo. The fiery-red shaft plowed in and out of Mom’s cunt. I licked my lips, watching Daisy’s melons bounce as she fucked Mom nice and hard.

I loved lezzing out with my mom and my twin sister. And it was all thanks to Mark and Mary. That wild day when we were shopping at Lawn & Care as a family, we ran into Mark and his girlfriend. It started out as a boring day being dragged along with my parents as they went on one of their home-improvement kicks. Then it turned exciting. With just a few words, Mark had our whole family fucking him and his girlfriend Mary in the Garden section.

And my family had never been happier.

We just love each other so much, and we were always eager to express the depths of our feelings. And my mom was really expressing how much she loved me with her delightful mouth on my pussy. Her tongue probed my hole, wiggling around against my sensitive pussy walls. She wiggled her face from side to side, the tip of her nose bumping wickedly against my clit.

“Mom’s going to town on your pussy, huh, Rosie?” Daisy panted.

“Oh, yes,” I moaned. “Mom’s making me feel amazing! I’m gonna cum real soon.”

“Lezzie slut,” Daisy taunted with a smile.

“You’d know all ’bout that, Daisy,” I retorted.

The door opened and Dad walked in. “You’ve got to see this,” he said.

“Daddy,” I groaned, miffed that he wasn’t paying attention to us and heading straight for the TV. His three women were in a delightful lezzie orgy and he was ignoring us, turning on the TV to Fox News.

I rolled my eyes. Dad was such a news junkie, and he watched boring old Fox News all the time. I wish he wouldn’t, all it did was get him worked up about national healthcare and how our president was a secret socialist trying to deliberately ruin the country. The worst part was that mom stopped eating my pussy to look at the TV.

“Mom,” I groaned in frustration, “I was so darn close to cumming.”

“…calling it the Miracle in South Hill,” the news anchor reported. “Today the infamous Mark Glassner was shot multiple times in a shoot-out between police and heavily armed men.”

My heart clutched in fear. Who would want to shoot Mark. He made our family so happy.

“While paramedics were working on him, this footage was caught by the local Fox affiliate in Seattle.” There was a man—Mark, I guess—lying on the ground being worked on by three paramedics and then a scarlet light flashed. Mark sat up, alive, unharmed. Then the screen cut to a white-faced paramedic being interviewed. “He was shot five times. And then… he was fine. Not a wound on him. It was… a miracle. The man is something special, something holy.”

Holy.

My eyes widened in realization. Mark Glassner was something special, something holy. The words echoed in my head. I saw my twin’s blue eyes widening in realization. The same thoughts sparked between us. Of course he was special and holy.

“He taught us to love each other,” I whispered.

“He did, Rosie,” my mom whispered, her eyes shining with wonder. Then she bent down and loved my cunt until I was cumming on her lips. I praised Mark for giving me my new, loving family.

And as I came, I knew we had to spread the word. We had to preach Mark’s message of free love. There were no rules. No barriers for love. Only consenting adults sharing their passions with whomever they wanted.

* * *

Rachel Hirsch-Goldstein-Blum – Butler, Pennsylvania

I cuddled with Jacob, my new husband, on the couch of our apartment. Everything was in boxes. We spent the first day back from our honeymoon packing up so we could move into the house we had bought right before our wedding. Escrow would close in a few days and then we could move in. We were taking a break from the packing to make a little love. Jacob’s cheeks were all stubbly with his five o’clock shadow, and I loved the rough feel of his whiskers on my skin.

He slipped his hand up my blouse, finding my breast, when the front door opened and Leah walked in, juggling a box of her belongings under one arm. “Starting without me?” she grinned, shaking her head.

I smiled happily at seeing her. Leah was our wife, and our lovemaking break would be even more fun with her. “We got impatient,” I laughed. “But we just started, so you haven’t missed anything.”

I met Leah on my honeymoon to New York City. There I encountered Mark and Mary in the lobby of the hotel Jacob and I were staying at. The couple invited me to have fun with them over the weekend, an invitation impossible to refuse. My poor husband had to spend most of our honeymoon alone while I was out having so much sex. The pair were wild, able to get anyone to do anything. They even made my husband happy that I was spending our honeymoon with other people.

And that was how I met Leah. She worked the weekend as Mark and Mary’s chauffeur. To my surprise, I fell in love with the vivacious bottle blonde. But I also loved my husband, so I brought her with me when I returned to Jacob. It was Mary’s idea. She gave me the nudge, telling me if I wanted happiness, I had to take it.

So I did.

Jacob and Leah seemed to be hitting it off and we were one happily married threesome. Technically, only Jacob and I were married, but maybe one day we could all be married. Jacob found an interview Mary had given where she talked about how wrong it was for the government to oppose bigamy. Mary said in the interview that people should be free to marry whoever they wanted, even multiple whoevers.

If anyone could change things, it would be Mark and Mary. They were special.

Jacob, being the great guy he was, stood up and took the box from Leah’s hands and gave her a quick kiss on the mouth. “You need to see the news,” Leah squealed. “People are saying Mark died and came back to life. I heard it on the radio on the drive over.”

“What, like Jesus?” I asked. That’s what Christians always said: we Jews killed him and then he came back to life.

“Yes,” she squealed. “It’s all over the news and YouTube. He was shot and then magically he was healed. They’re calling it a miracle. People are calling him a god. There’s a whole bunch of women posting about their experiences with Mark, and some are gathering in front of his house. The talk radio won’t shut up about it. I drove so fast to get here to tell you”

A god. That was impossible. But, there was something… different about Mark and Mary. No one could do what they did. People just obey them. I glanced at Jacob and saw the wonder in his eyes. He was realizing the same thing.

A god. They changed our lives, gave us Leah and our happiness. I looked around our packed up house. “Honey,” I said. “I think we’re moving into the wrong place.”

He nodded his head in agreement. A god would need disciples. Followers. We owed them for the happiness they gave us. For Leah.

To be continued…

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