---

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 4.

---

---

The Holy Slut Desiree faced the Demon with courage and bravery. She did not lose faith in our Living Gods nor did she submit to the vile desires of the False God despite all his cruel abuses.

—The Gospel of April 37:1-2

Desiree de la Fuentes – Tacoma, WA

Being captured wasn’t what I thought it would be.

After being forced to watch my ex-husband order mi Rey’s brutal beating, I was taken to the showers in the jail next door to the courthouse. Two female soldiers, one tall with a plain face and the other short and stocky, stripped me naked and shoved me in with a bar of soap and a bottle of shampoo. As the warm water sprayed on my sore body, I wondered if I would ever see my wife again.

I leaned forward against the tiled wall, and my body shook with silent sobs. I desperately wanted to see my slutty Alison again. I pictured her mischievous face framed by her bubblegum hair, her tongue running over her lush lips, silver glinting off her tongue-piercing. Mi Rey gave the distress call. Alison should be far away, safe wherever the bolthole was.

Safe with mi Reina.

“You’re clean,” Plain-Face barked. “Let’s go. We need to get you ready for Him.”

I shuddered. The woman said “him” with such a worshipful manner. I had heard Brandon’s pronouncement—he claimed he was a God now. Derisions fired through me. As if that fat buffoon could even compare to mi Rey. The women handed me a black dress to wear. It was similar to one Brandon bought me before Mark claimed me, low-cut and tight, showing off all of my body’s ample assets.

“Take off the choker,” Stocky ordered.

“No,” I said with defiance. “I am mi Rey’s slut!”

Stocky just reached out and yanked it off my neck, snapping the clasp. I wanted to cry. Instead, I glared icily at the woman who pocketed my choker. She handed me a black jewelry box that contained a pearl necklace. I knocked it to the floor.

“Don’t make us hurt you,” she threatened as she picked up the box.

Grinding my teeth, I took the necklace and placed it about my throat. They hadn’t noticed my wedding ring, and as we walked through the jail, I quickly pulled it off my left ring finger and slipped it onto my right. They took the symbol of my voluntary slavery, and I wasn’t about to lose the symbol of my love for Alison.

The soldiers marched me through the jail. We constantly had to stop at security gates, waiting for unseen guards to buzz them open from the control room. Everyone manning the prison was a soldier. There were bloodstains dotting the walls and empty shell casings littering the floor. And not all the gates had to be buzzed open; some lay twisted and blackened from explosives. As we walked, I realized there was no one making catcalls at me. The cells were empty.

“Where are all the prisoners?” I asked, unnerved by the empty cells.

“Executed,” Plain-Face answered. “His orders.”

My blood chilled. What had happened to Brandon? I never loved him—I was a lesbian who married him for his money—but he wasn’t an evil man. Right? He always seemed nice and attentive. He had a temper, sure, but I was having trouble reconciling the man I married and the monster who appeared today.

Stocky prodded me, and I realized that I had frozen in my tracks. Swallowing, I started walking forward again.

Was he always a monster, and I just never saw it in him?

They led me out to the exercise yard at the center of the jail. It was a small courtyard with a few basketball hoops, some metal tables lining the sides. Both tables and their stools were bolted into the concrete. The exercise yard was crowded with women milling about under the hungry eyes of a group of soldiers. All the women were naked, young, and reasonably attractive.

A larger table had been set up with a white tablecloth and mauve candles, a bottle of wine chilling in a silver ice bucket. A romantic dinner? A naked eighteen-year-old with blonde hair walked up to me, smiling broadly. She bowed to me then dismissed Stocky and Plain-Face with the wave of her arm. The two soldiers saluted and walked off.

“My Lady,” the girl said. She had a Midwest twang to her voice. “I am Ashley, your Lord Husband’s chief concubine.”

“You’re his slut,” I corrected.

“As you say, my Lady. Would you care to sit? Lord Brandon will be here shortly to dine with you.”

I was about to refuse when a woman shouted in a rich, French accent, “Kneel before your God, the Majestic Brandon, the Divine Ruler of the World!”

I snorted with laughter. The Majestic Brandon? The soldiers knelt on one knee while the women in the exercise yard and Ashley fell prostrate. I remained standing, refusing to genuflect before my ex. I turned to see a porcelain-faced woman with long, dark-brown hair, falling naked to worship my ex-husband as he swept in. Behind him walked a bevy of naked women, led by a pair of twins who were almost the spitting image of mi Reina. Several military men—some sort of high-ranking officers judging by their age and bearing—followed on the heels of the naked women. The last to enter was the mayor of Tacoma, Colton Bray, and his lovely Korean wife, Yoon.

Mi Rey had fucked her right before the attack. It felt like so much longer than eight or so hours had passed.

“My beautiful Desiree,” Brandon said warmly, walking up and hugging me. I stiffened in his arms. He frowned and broke the hug. “I see he has warded you from my control.”

“And it has nothing to do with the fact that I hate you, picaflor?” I asked bitterly as he motioned for me to sit. I grit my teeth and plopped down on the chair.

“You do not hate me, not deep down inside,” Brandon said calmly. “Mark has forced you to hate me. You are under his power.”

I snorted a laugh and muttered in Spanish, “Babosa.” Brandon was an idiot.

One of the auburn-haired twins popped the cork and poured two glasses of wine. Then she knelt with all the other naked women and looked adoringly up at Brandon. Not even mi Rey made us fawn over him like this.

“No, I hate you for this.” I pointed around. “You attacked us. Your damned soldiers almost killed my loved ones. Almost killed me! You are having my Master cruelly beaten. And what are you doing with all these women?” I motioned to the scared women crowded in the exercise yard.

“They were candidates for my harem,” Brandon calmly answered. “The ones I rejected. My soldiers are rounding-up every attractive woman they find, and I’m keeping the best. Don’t look so shocked. Mark did the same thing. He walked into our house and made you his whore.” Heat rose in his voice. “But don’t you worry, my love, I will find a way to free you.”

“Mark already freed me, babosa,” I answered, putting as much derision into my voice as I could. “I’m his slut willingly. We all are.”

Brandon frowned as another naked woman set bowls of salad before the both of us. My stomach rumbled, but I pushed the food aside. Brandon took a forkful, chewed it slowly, face furrowed as he thought. He swallowed, then asked, “What are you talking about?”

“Back in June, after the Miracle, Mark and Mary freed us. Some of us chose to stay as their slaves.” Feeling spiteful, I added, “I could have returned to you, but I never loved you, Brandon. I just married you for your money. I was a gold digger. A lesbian gold digger. I stayed with Master because I fell in love, and I could have all the wealth I could possibly dream of as his whore. More than I ever could have as your wife.”

Anger flashed on his face and I was too surprised to react as he slapped me across the table. “So you love Mark,” he spat. “That vile beast that took you away from me. You were mine!”

“¡Tu madre es puta y pendeja!” I shouted back, rubbing my cheek. “No, I am Alison’s! I fell in love with their slave and married her. I found true happiness! Something that you never gave me! All I ever got from you was a comfortable life and disappointing sex!”

I blocked his second blow and raked my fingernails down his arm. I smiled at the bloody scratches I gave him.

He stood up, rage filling his eyes, and rounded the table at me. I quickly got to my feet and tried to back away, but I stumbled over one of his kneeling whores. His arm caught mine in a steely grip. I snarled at him and slapped him across the face.

My head swam as he backhanded me. I tripped over the kneeling woman and fell hard onto my back. “¡Culero!” I snarled at him. “How could I love a muerdealmohadas like you? You don’t even know what to do with a woman! Not with your little dick! ¡Pinche mula!”

He stared down at me, rage burning in his eyes. “I dislike having to chastise you, Desiree. But you will learn to submit to me if I have to beat all the willfulness out of you.”

“¡Jode su madre!” I spat. “I chose Alison, and I chose Mark, over you! Mi Reina is out there! You think you’ve won, but she will crush you! And I will be there to see you fall!”

Brandon laughed. “Let the little whore try.” I felt his eyes upon me as I lay on the floor. My skirt had ridden up as I fell. I pushed it back down, covering my exposed pussy. “Why so modest now?” he asked with a hungry look in his eyes. “You weren’t so bashful this morning with your tits exposed and covered in his cum.”

“¡Ve a chuparle el peson ha un chango! I’m his whore, not yours! Never yours.”

“Let’s see, shall we?” he smiled, unbuckling his belt. “Hold her down.”

His harem grabbed me. I thrashed against the women as they pinned my arms to the ground. Others held my legs open and apart. I kicked one in the face. She screamed in pain and fell back, but others moved in, fingernails biting into my flesh as they held me down. Brandon’s pants were off, his cock jutting out at me beneath his fat belly.

“I forgot just how small you were,” I said with a bold grin. “After Mark’s big dick, I’m not sure I’ll even feel your little rope in me!”

He knelt over me, his thick thighs straddling my waist. I grit my teeth as his fat, disgusting body pressed atop me. “You’ll feel my cock, whore!”

“I always hated having sex with you, panzon. There is nothing less appealing than a fat whale thrashing on top of you, gasping for breath as he tries to pump away with his little cock!”

“Cunt!” he snarled and slapped me.

My head rang. Everything went hazy for a moment. I shook my head, blinking, then felt a burning pain in my pussy as his cock forced its way in. I was dry; Brandon didn’t seem to care. He just pumped away. I suppressed a groan, I wasn’t about to let the bastard know just how much he was hurting me.

Looking up, his neck was right above me, his throat exposed.

I could bite him, maybe rip out his artery. Then this all would be over. I could save us all.

I would see mi Sirenita again.

Alison’s carefree face, framed by her bubblegum-pink hair, flashed through my vision. With a snarl, I snapped my head forward and bit into his neck. Hard. Coppery blood flooded my mouth, driving me to bit harder. I dug my teeth deeper into his neck, searching for the artery.

He pulled away, roaring in pain. “Goddamn fucking whore!”

His left hand clutched at his bleeding throat. There was a bloody bite, but it wasn’t deep enough. He raised his right fist up and slammed it into my face. The back of my head smacked into the hard concrete. My thoughts rang. Everything was fuzzy.

I was barely aware of Brandon pumping away inside me after that. The world swam drunkenly about me. My head lolled to the side. I stared at the knees of one of the women holding me down, a gray pebble stuck to her shin, dimpling the white flesh.

Then everything just faded away.

It was the pain that brought me back to conscious thoughts. My head split and there was a burning ache knifing into my pussy. I felt a crushing weight on top of me. I struggled to open my eyes and there was Brandon, his neck covered with a white bandage. He was still raping me. I felt raw and sore inside, and every thrust of his cock was agony.

“Mmm, you’re not a bad fuck when you’re unconscious,” Brandon told me with glee. “If you want to wiggle about, though, that’s all right.”

I struggled to speak, but my head ached too much. The world swam again. Stars flared, light stabbed my eyes, and then darkness fell on me again. I didn’t think I was out long when I swam back to consciousness. Brandon was still pumping away inside me when I woke up the second time. His face contorted in pleasure. Then I realized with a disgusted shudder that he was shooting his cum inside me.

“God, I love Viagra! Three times without rest,” he smiled. “And I definitely feel like a fourth. What do you say, Desiree? Want to be on top, this time? My knees are killing me.”

“I’d rather die, el de atras,” I slurred.

“My Lord, sunset approaches,” a man said. His voice was distant like it came from miles away even though I could see him standing right behind Brandon.

I moaned in relief as Brandon pulled out of me. He looked down at me, considering. “I can’t have you looking all ugly,” he said with a shake of his head. He bent down and muttered a word.

Heat flashed through me and a scarlet light seemed to envelop my body. The heat banished the pain, and the fuzz clouding my thoughts was burned away as he healed me. I no longer felt that rasping ache in my depths. No stabbing pain behind my eyes.

“Stand up, Desiree, I want you to see something.”

I felt dirty as I stood up, his cum leaking out of my pussy. I wanted to throwup, to run and hide, but I wouldn’t give my rapist any more satisfaction than I had to. Holding my head high, I followed him out into the exercise yard. While I had been lying senseless, the soldiers had made a bonfire in the center of the prison yard, lighting up the concrete walls and the huddled women as the sky darkened. The Mayor of Tacoma and his wife, Yoon, waited at the fire.

“You are familiar with the Magicks of the Witch of Endor?” Brandon asked.

I nodded my head.

“Well, it teaches a variety of ways to summon demons. They all will make Pacts with you. The only problem is…the cost. Most demons want your absolute worship and obedience to grant your wishes. While others will have you perform tasks that will seem innocuous, at first, but will actually lead to your downfall. There are only two demons who have fixed prices: Lucifer, whom Mark and I both have already dealt with, and Molech. Of course, Molech’s prices are very demanding.” Brandon held out his hand. “General Brooks.”

One of the military men, older than the others, walked up and handed Brandon a long knife. The knife’s blade glinted orange and yellow in the firelight as it flashed through the air. I jumped in shock as Brandon drove the knife into Mayor Bray’s chest. The Mayor stared dumbfounded at the blade buried into his chest, the blood blossoming red through his shirt.

“My… Lord…” he asked, staring at Brandon, his face twisting in stunned betrayal.

Then General Brooks shoved the Mayor, and he fell into the fire. Yoon screamed and collapsed to her knees, crying as the flames engulfed her husband. His clothing burst alight. His mouth opened in a scream lost to the fire’s crackle, eyes moving, finding his crying wife’s before he went still.

“Molech, I give you this offering of noble blood,” Brandon intoned at the fire. “Cloak yourself in coals and flames and appear before your humble supplicant!”

The fire popped and crackled around the burning mayor. And then the flames exploded upward, white hot and screaming, immolating the corpse. I clapped my hands over my ears, trying to block out the terrible noise, the sound of thousands and tens of thousands of voices crying out in eternal agony. The screams of Damnation itself.

Something moved in the flames, the white-hot tongues whipping around a swelling, dark bulk. I flinched and stumbled back as a hulking figure stepped out, snorting like a maddened bull. His skin was black as soot and covered in angry, red fissures that glowed with the being’s inner flames. His eyes were coals flaring with hatred, and the air danced and shimmered about him. Smoke poured out of his nostrils and mouth with every snort. The bonfire abruptly died down and the terrible screaming stopped. The figure surveyed the crowd, and everyone retreated before his terrible gaze.

Everyone, except Brandon.

The air reeked of rotting eggs and ash, and when the demon spoke, his voice growled the roar of a furnace. “What do you wish of me, mortal?”

“Free Desiree from Mark’s control,” Brandon demanded.

I shuddered in fear as Molech’s burning eyes fixed on me. I felt naked, exposed, as they peered into me, into my soul, leaving me feeling used. His gaze soiled me worst than Brandon’s rapes. “Impossible. She is bound too tightly to him. What else, mortal?”

Disappointment flickered on Brandon’s face. “Immortality, youth, and sexual stamina.”

“I require nine hundred sacrifices,” Molech answered grimly. “All women. If you fail to provide them to me, I shall take you as my sacrifice.”

“Done,” Brandon answered. The demon reached out and grabbed Brandon’s arm. When he released it, an angry-red brand circled his limb. Grimacing in pain, Brandon pointed at the sobbing Mayor’s wife. “Your first payment.”

Molech smiled. I could feel the lust radiating off of him. Rising from his groin was a black, smoking cock. He reached down and grabbed Yoon. Her flesh shriveled where he touched her. She screamed in agony as he dragged her off into the prison. I fell to my knees, stomach heaving violently, acid burning my throat as the contents of my stomach emptied on the concert.

What sort of monster did I marry? Yoon’s screams echoed from the prison.

“Desiree,” Brandon said pleasantly when I finished vomiting. “If you don’t start acting like a good, submissive wife, I will give you to Molech, and you can enjoy his tender embrace.”

I shuddered in fear, looking up at Brandon.

He was younger now, looking like he was in his twenties. His clothes hung loosely on him, his balding hair had regrown, and his now too-large pants slipped off his waist, revealing a muscular, flat stomach. His cock hardened as Yoon still screamed in the background.

“When Molech is finished with the bitch, he will want his next woman,” Brandon threatened. “Your choice, Desiree.”

The woman’s screams sent ice pumping through my veins. It hurt when Brandon raped me, but at least his cock wasn’t burning coals. At least Brandon fucking me wouldn’t kill me. Tears fell down my cheeks. I wanted to be strong. I did…

But I wanted to live, too.

My will snapped before the fear of Molech. Feeling like the most disgusting, lowest creature in the world I knelt in submission before my rapist. I knew what he wanted. I grabbed his cock, opened my mouth, and sucked it inside. I tried to look happy on the outside, to smile up at him, my cheeks stained with tears. I had to please him. I didn’t want to be given to Molech.

“Good,” Brandon purred, stroking my hair. “I’m so happy that you’ve finally realized your place, my love.”

Inside, I cried. I was a filthy worm now, forever crawling in his muck.

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 6.

You can read my schedule!

If you enjoyed the story, support me on Patreon!

I have released a part 43 of the revamped Devil’s Pact on Smashwords. Read this post for more information if you’re interested!