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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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Debra Horne-Darnell: The crowds are huge this morning waiting for Mark and Mary Glassner, the Living Gods, to arrive at the gun buyback. There is such an expectant, festive air. Everyone here is united by their desire for peace. Tacoma officials have already told me that today’s gun buyback has drawn the largest crowds they have ever seen! A ripple has gone through the crowd and… Yes! There’s their limo!

—transcript from Q13 Fox News Broadcast, September 28th, 2013

Saturday, September 28th, 2013 – Mary Glassner

“This is all your fault, Mark Glassner,” I complained the next morning. I knelt before the toilet in the bathroom, my stomach heaving and churning with morning sickness. Mark was beside me, holding back my hair. I glared at him, opened my mouth to speak, and…

My eyes widened. I turned back to the toilet and groaned as my stomach clenched. My throat burned. I hated the taste of bile. My eyes squeezed shut, watering as I expelled the contents of my stomach.

How could there be more?

Morning sickness had been rough for me. And this morning it was the worst it had ever been. It sucked so much. Usually, I just had an upset stomach that settled with a few saltine crackers. But this… The muscles in my abdomen hurt as I kept heaving.

“Sorry, Mare,” Mark groaned. “But it was your idea to have a child.”

I glared at him, fighting down the next heave. “I don’t want to hear your excuses, Mark Glassner!”

He laughed. He actually laughed. My eyes hardened. That shut him up, and he quickly added, “You look beautiful this morning, Mare.”

“Liar,” I hissed.

But… he sounded so sincere when he said it. I sighed, anger melting away at him. It really wasn’t his fault I was throwing up. It was part of being pregnant. And I did want to have his child so much. I wanted something that was a mix of us both, something we created.

And then he rubbed my shoulders. I groaned, closing my eyes, kneeling there, waiting to find out if it was over. He kissed at the nape of my neck. God, he was really sweet. I felt guilty for even lashing out at him. How many men would hold their wife’s hair while she threw up and still call her beautiful?

Not my last boyfriend.

“I think it’s over,” I said.

“Okay,” he said, helping me stand. He handed me a glass of water. I blinked; when had he filled it?

I rinsed my mouth out and spat into the sink before gulping down the rest. It tasted so fresh and pure. He grabbed me in his arms, picked me up, and carried me to my bed. I couldn’t help feeling so loved. He sat me down and cuddled beside me.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“No,” I sighed. My stomach still churned. And I felt so exhausted. I had no energy. “I don’t think I’m up for going to the gun-buyback today.”

“Sure, Mare.” He rubbed my stomach. “Only eight-weeks old, and she’s already causing problems.”

I giggled. “A girl, huh? Not a son to take after you?”

He snorted with laughter. “There wouldn’t be a safe pussy anywhere in the state. My son would have to fuck them all.”

I smiled fondly at him, touching his cheek. “Well, if it’s a girl, what would you name her?”

“Chasity,” he answered without hesitation.

I gasped, hot tears welling in my eyes. “That’s lovely.” I kissed him. “And if it’s a boy?”

“Hmm, I don’t know.” He frowned. “I’ve always thought Quatch was a cool name.”

My tears vanished. My joy evaporated. I pinched him. “We are not naming our child after that hairy friend of yours!”

“Well, I’m out of ideas, what would you name our son?”

“Albert,” I answered.

“Really? It’s a terrible name.” His eyebrows furrowed. He stared at me, and I gave him an innocent smile. “Have you been talking to my mom?”

I nodded. “She told me all about her dad, so I think we should name him after your grandfather.”

“Why not after one of yours?”

Wow, he really didn’t want to name our son Albert. I knew Mark had been close to his grandpa as a child before he passed away from cancer.

“Mine are both named Mike. Just like my ex-boyfriend.” I hoped Mike loved being cuckolded over and over by that skank he cheated on me with. Mark ordered them to marry and her to always cheat on him.

“Good point.” He kissed my nose. “Chastity if it’s a girl, and it will be a girl, Mary. Or Albert in the incredibly unlikely event we have a son.”

I rolled my eyes. “You need to prepare yourself to have a son, Mark. There’s a fifty-fifty chance after all.”

“Ah, but the man’s sperm chooses the sex,” he said like everyone should know that. “So I just concentrated on having a girl. So my sperm knew which ones should be making the attempt.”

I sighed. “I don’t think that’s how it works, Mark.”

“Sure it does! I asked Willow. She’s an obstetrician, so she’d know.”

“Liar,” Mary smiled.

* * *

Mark Glassner

It was wonderful to see her smile cross her wan face, sweat-matted hair stuck to her forehead. Then her smile faded as her face paled and she bolted for the bathroom, again.

I followed, holding her auburn hair up to keep the vomit out. “You know, I really love you,” I told her between heaves. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t put up with something this disgusting.”

“It’s your fault I’m vomiting, Mark Glassner!” Mary snapped back. “So just suck it up, be a man, and hold my hair.”

“Yes, dear,” I grinned at her.

Afterward, Mary laid back down to take a nap, and I went to get breakfast. I passed Violet stumbling out of the bathroom, looking just as green-faced as Mary. April was with her, a teasing smile on her lips.

“Oh, it’s not fair,” Violet complained. “Why don’t you suffer morning sickness, April?”

“Luck?” she shrugged. “Oh, good morning, Master.”

“Keep it down,” I admonished the two pregnant sluts. “Mary’s had a rough morning.”

Alice looked sheepish and nodded, “Sorry, Master.”

“It’s okay.” I kissed her on the lips then Violet on the forehead before heading downstairs.

“Master,” Alison beamed, sitting naked at the small kitchen table as she watched her wife, Desiree, wearing only an apron, cooking breakfast. I didn’t blame her for looking at the Latina slut. Desiree’s nut-brown ass was a thing of beauty. Pictures of it should be hung in museums.

“Morning, slut,” I grinned at my pink-haired slut as she hopped to her feet and bustled to me. She threw her arms around my neck and gave me an enthusiastic kiss, her tongue piercing playing around my mouth.

My dick throbbed. She broke away with a mischievous grin. Eighteen and wicked. She was the only one of the sluts who originally agreed to join. She wanted to be a sex slave. I was certain she was the reason Desiree stayed when we freed the sluts. She didn’t want to lose the woman she loved.

Alison poured me a cup of coffee, adding the milk and sugar just the way I liked it. She bustled back to me, her tits bouncing, each pink nipple pierced by a silver barbell. I drank in the sight of her body, my eyes flicking down to her tattoo. I loved it. “Cum on in” was inked on her shaved pudenda with an arrow pointing right at her clit. It left no doubt where she wanted you to cum.

“Thank you,” I said, taking it.

She fell to her knees and sucked my cock into her mouth. I groaned, my dick throbbing as she bobbed up and down my hard cock. Her tongue stud pressed hard against my shaft and swirled about my sensitive crown. Shivers raced through my body.

It added a little something extra that made my balls boil faster.

I ran one hand through her pink hair as she bobbed her mouth, the other sipping the coffee. I groaned, loving the rush of pleasure and caffeine through me all at the same time. Drinking coffee and receiving a blowjob at the same time was the best way to shake off sleep.

I watched Desiree’s naked ass as she cooked. The kitchen filled with the aroma of bacon and eggs. Something hearty to fortify me through the long day of the gun buyback. I groaned, loving the shape of her rear as it wiggled. She shook it for me, flashing me smoky smiles over her shoulder.

“Is mi Sirenita pleasing you, mi Rey?” she purred with her delicious accent.

“Always,” I groaned. “You know your wife loves to suck my cock.”

“She is enthusiastic about everything she does.”

That was the truth. My dick ached in her mouth as she sucked and bobbed. Her cheeks hollowed, her tongue stud sliding across my sensitive dick. The pleasure raced down my body. I groaned between sips, my balls tightening.

She sucked so hard as she slid her mouth up my cock. Her hands played with my balls. She wanted my cum. She massaged them as the pressure grew. She swirled her tongue and hard stud around the crown of my dick.

“Fuck,” I grunted as my cum erupted into her mouth.

The pleasure joined the buzz of caffeine racing through my veins. I groaned with each blast, trying not to spill hot coffee. Allison moaned, but she didn’t swallow. Her cheeks bulged as she held my cum. I grunted, my pleasure peaking.

Then she pulled her mouth off my dick. She opened wide, showing her tongue swirling in a pool of my cum. She mumbled, “Thank you, Master.”

“You’re welcome, slut,” I groaned, taking another sip of my coffee. She was the model for how a slut should act.

Alison closed her mouth, popped to her feet, and darted to her wife. She spun Desiree around and kissed her hard. I shivered, my dick twitching as Alison shoveled my cum into her wife’s mouth, giving her a taste.

“Mmm, that was delicious, mi Sirenita,” Desiree purred, smacking her lips. “And thank you, mi Rey, for cumming in my wife’s mouth.”

“Oh, the pleasure was all mine,” I grinned.

Lillian, naked, richly laughed as she sipped at her coffee. The goth slut sat on the other side of the table.

* * *

Brandon Fitzsimmons – Joint Base, Lewis-McChord, WA

“Take my cock, Mary,” I growled, ramming my dick into Terri’s young cunt. From behind, she looked like Mary Glassner. Terri’s hair had the same auburn shade as Mary’s, her ass the same plump shape. So I could pretend I was fucking Mark’s wife as I plowed Terri or her sister.

My dick throbbed in her depth as I drove into that tight, barely legal cunt. Her twin sister, Sherri, moaned in the background, playing with her pussy while I fucked Terri. The twins were among my favorites in my harem. I clenched my hands on Terri’s hips, reaming her hard and deep, my balls aching, boiling.

“Take it, Mary, you slut!”

“I’m such a slut,” Terri moaned. “Oh, you’re cock so much better than Mark’s. He has such a tiny cock. I love yours. I’m your whore now. Not Mark’s! Never Mark’s! You’re so much better, Brandon! You’re a true god!”

“Yes,” I howled, my balls boiling. I pictured the real Mary saying those words while Mark watched on in important humiliation, chained in the corner. His wife would be my whore. She would moan and gasp around my dick.

Today! I would have her today!

“Take it!” I howled, cumming in her depths.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Terri moaned. “Cum in me! Oh, Mark, this is how a real man fucks a woman! How he cums in her!”

A loud rap knocked on the door in the makeshift bedroom in the middle of the HQ for I Corp in the heart of Joint Base Lewis-McChord. “What?” I snarled. Didn’t they know I was busy?

A soldier, under my domination, entered, saluting smartly. “My Lord, General Brooks says we are ready to begin the operation. Just waiting on your orders, my Lord!”

I shuddered. Lieutenant-General Aurthur Brooks was the commanding officer if I Corps, one of the US Army’s largest army groups, and the commander of JBLM. It was time to show the world how real power was used.

The final spurts of cum flooded into Terri’s depths, exhilaration rushing through me.

I ripped my dick out of Terri’s cunt and buckled up my pants. “I’ll be right there.”

“My Lord,” saluted the soldier, his face ecstatic.

I loved being a God.

To be continued…

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