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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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We shall use every weapon at our disposal to slay the Tyrants, every resource that we can lay our hands on. No power is too dark, no act too heinous. We shall not balk at the task before us. We shall not rest until the Tyrants are dead. We are everywhere. We are legion.

—excerpt from ‘The Patriots Manifesto’, Author Unknown

Mark Glassner – Washington D.C.

This morning sickness is all your fault, Mark Glassner! Mary sent. I could feel her discomfort in her thoughts suddenly bursting through my mind.

I was balls-deep in Desiree’s pussy at that exact moment, fucking the Latina slut as she ate out Tibby’s cunt. Bryanna knelt next to Desiree, Alison busily sucking my cum out of the girl’s ass. I was enjoying one last romp with the mother and daughter before I left to attend to Congress.

Just think of our daughter, I sent back, my cock throbbing in Desiree’s pussy, washing it clean of the barely legal slut’s ass. Just picture how beautiful she’ll be when you hold her in your arms.

Who are you fucking? There was a strange, accusatory tinge to her thoughts.

Desiree while she eats out this MILF’s ass. Alison is next to us, eating my cum out of the daughter’s ass.

You’re having an orgy while your wife is suffering?

I frowned and stopped thrusting into Desiree. What’s wrong, Mare?

“What’s wrong, mi Rey?” Desiree asked, looking over my shoulder.

I ignored her, just letting my cock marinate in her hot cunt. Bryanna moaned and squealed beside her, squirming as Alison sucked my cum out of her bowels. The cute girl panted and groaned, clawing at the hotel’s sheets.

I just hate vomiting, Mary said, sounding so frustrated, so in need. And I wish you were here. I like it when you hold my hair. It’s not the same with Lillian.

I wish I was there, too. And it was the truth. I’d rather be with my wife as she threw up than fucking the tight cunt wrapped about my pussy. It’s only until tomorrow. Then I’ll be there to hold your hair. I love you.

I love you too. She already sounded better. You can keep fucking Desiree. Make her scream for me and give my love to the other sluts.

I will.

I resumed thrusting into Desiree’s cunt, feeling her hot, tight tunnel wrapped about my dick. The friction burned about my dick, my balls swelling with my need to cum again. They thwacked into her clit, making her tremble.

“Was that mi Reina?” she asked. “Talking to you?”

“Yeah, she said she loves all of her sluts.”

Alison beamed, her lips sticky with cum. “Oh, that’s so nice of her!”

“Don’t stop!” Bryanna gasped. “I’m so close to cumming. Keep licking me, slut!”

Alison giggled and dived back into the girl’s ass. She licked and tongued, desperate for my cum. Alison was my first slut, my most eager one. The only one I didn’t use mind control powers on to recruit. She had been willing.

So very willing. I loved her enthusiasm. I loved the sight of her pink hair spilled over Bryanna’s ass while she lapped my cum out of the girl’s bowels. It made my dick ache so badly in Desiree’s tight cunt.

My balls tightened. I was nearing that wonderful edge, about to plummet off into the rapture of release. I slammed so hard into Desiree, savoring the feel of her while she feasted on the older woman’s hot cunt.

“Fucking slut!” I groaned, slapping her full ass, watching her nut-brown cheeks jiggle. “Damn, you are going to make me cum.

“Yes, yes, cum in me, mi Rey!” she cooed. “Fill me with your spunk so I can make Alison eat me out.”

“Mmm, I would love that,” Alison purred. “I love eating Master’s cum out of a woman’s hole. Particularly when that woman’s my sexy wife!”

“Then keep eating my ass if you love his cum!” Bryanna moaned. “Oh, Momma, I’m so close to cumming!”

“Me, too, pumpkin,” Tibby gasped. “Oh, God, Desiree’s tongue is driving me wild. This slut is an expert on muff diving!”

“I taught her well,” Alison giggled. “Make that bitch howl, my Latin beauty!”

“Mmm, I will, mi Sirenita. And I want to hear that puta explode on your lips!”

“Oh, fucking yes, I’m going to explode!” Bryanna shouted. “Holy shit! Her tongue’s wiggling up my butthole! Oh, my gods! Oh, my fucking gods!” Her body shook and she collapsed onto her belly.

There was a pleased look on Alison’s face—a self-satisfied cat licking her lips.

I was almost to my orgasm; just a few more strokes, and I would be basting Desiree’s snatch with a huge load of cum. I gripped her hips and slammed into her, savoring every velvety inch of her cunt as my cock plowed in and out. She felt wonderful, driving my balls to distraction

I erupted with a low grunt. My cum fired out of my cock and into my slut’s tight cunt. I shuddered, drinking in the rapture surging through me. It was so hot and wild. Her pussy sucked at my dick, so eager for my cum.

“Fuck, Desiree,” I groaned as I fired the last blast.

“Oh, yes, oh, yes!” Tibby panted, her pussy grinding into Desiree’s face. Tibby collapsed on the bed, quaking as her orgasm crashed through her.

I panted, shuddering, and realized Desiree hadn’t climaxed yet. So, after I pulled out of her cunt, I grabbed her clit and rolled it between my fingers a few times. She bucked and screamed, orgasming hard.

I had a front-row view. Her cunt still gaped open from my dick. I could see the pink muscles inside spasming as she came, expelling my white cum with her juices. They spilled down her golden-brown thighs as she wiggled that great ass.

“Thank you, mi Rey!”

“That was fucking hot!” Alison moaned. Then she kissed her wife as her fingers rapidly frigged her clit. The two sluts shared the flavor of a mother’s cunt and a daughter’s ass as Alison writhed, her orgasm shivering through her.

God, I loved my powers.

After that, I sent Bryanna and her mother home, both bubbling with joy at spending the night with their god. Then Violet brought in my breakfast: scrambled eggs with cheese, bacon, and hash browns. I wolfed it down then dressed in the suit that Korina had laid out for me. The sluts wore their provocative clothes: Violet was the naughty schoolgirl this morning, Alison was stunning as a slutty genie, Desiree wore a naughty nurse’s outfit, and Korina dressed as a sexy goth girl.

“Good morning, sir,” 51 said, a smile on her ebony face, when I stepped out of my bedroom.

“Let’s get going,” I said after greeting her with a kiss.

“Mmm, yes,” she grinned.

My sluts giggled as we rode the elevator down, joining up with the rest of my bodyguards in the lobby. 51 led the detail, my sexy cops all looking so naughty and dangerous, gripping their submachine guns and marching around me.

It was so sexy walking in the center of a bevy of sexy bodyguards.

Two of the bodyguards opened the hotel doors. A roar washed over me, physical in its presence. The crowd waiting outside was even larger than last night, a tide of people somehow being held back by the Legion, my soldiers. They surged against the soldiers in their eagerness to see me.

I stepped out of the hotel, beaming at the crowd, my sluts around me. I raised my hand, waving. They cheered even louder. Women bared their tits, flashing their god their bountiful, bouncing joy. My grin only grew.

And then everything went blue around me. A shimmering field of rippling energy engulfed me.

I froze, my amulet burning beneath my shirt. Someone had just shot at me, but the bullet was deflected by my amulet. A moment later, as the blue light faded, a loud gunshot cracked across the square.

“Sniper!” 51 shouted, rushing at me.

The bodyguards and soldiers exploding into action, raising their weapons and scanning the crowd. Fear spurred my heart into overdrive and flooded ice through my veins. I just lifted my eyes when the world turned azure again.

And again.

Two more bullets slammed into my shield in rapid succession. I caught a muzzle flash from an apartment window in one of the windows between the explosions, my heart hammering. The crowd screaming.

I focused on the window. It looked closed, the curtains drawn and—

A muzzle flash leaped from the window, a tongue of red-orange flame. Before the world went blue around me again, my amulet burning against my skin, I noticed that the curtain’s fabric had not been disturbed in any way.

Magic?

One of the bodyguards seized me, trying to pull me back. But I shook her off. Before me, soldiers pushed through the crowd, struggling to get to that building while the counter-snipers on the hotel’s roof opened fire, hitting windows. Glass shattering, curtains fluttering.

Someone was trying to kill me and had failed. The implication of that, with all these people here watching me, hit me with a dangerous, risky idea. There were news crews here—wherever Mary or I went, there were always news and paparazzi around—and they were broadcasting the attack to the world. This was the perfect opportunity to demonstrate my Godly powers.

I had already stopped the bullets. Now it was time to bring in a terrorist. A demon. Mary would kill me for this.

* * *

Jerrold Baxter

“Christ,” I muttered, lowing my rifle and staring down at the chaos before the hotel, my eyes wide. I knew magic existed but… “Christ.”

Four shots had bounced off the Tyrant’s… forcefield. Was that what he had? How else to explain the blue energy?

The air hissed, a bullet rippling hot past my cheek. I threw myself back with a startled curse, bullets knifing through the window. The counter-snipers were blind-firing at me. I landed on my back and scrambled farther away, rounds hissing, striking the carpet where I just lay. My heart raced.

“Goddamn it,” I muttered, my hands shaking. The entire operation was a bust. It was time to retreat.

I quickly disassembled my rifle. It came apart fast. I had practiced so many times. I set each piece in the foam cutout in the case and then sealed it tight. The soldiers out on the streets would be in the building and crashing through this apartment door in about a minute. They would know the floor and which apartment.

But that left me plenty of time to escape.

I unsheathed a bronze knife. I could do magic, too.

“Pasaq! I shouted and stabbed the air. My knife sank into nothingness, the tip vanishing at a rippling point. Then I started to saw the knife, cutting a portal through the very fabric of reality. Beyond lay the Shadows. Death.

Slipping into the Shadows, the highest level of the Abyss, was not for the faint of heart. But it was a useful spell, allowing me to get away undetected. Noel had taught it to us after we made our Pacts. The best part: this spell wasn’t found in the Magicks of the Witch of Endor. Noel was positive that the Tyrants knew nothing about it. After being freed from their enslavement, she had done her research. She had found out other spells.

Spells that worked once we all had sold our souls to the Devil.

* * *

Noel Heinrich – Philadelphia, PA

“Your intel needs to be updated,” Wyatt nodded with a grunt.

“It appears to be,” I nodded to my mentor, grinding my teeth as I watched the panicked new coverage. The anchors were already freaking out, asking their colleagues on the scene if they were all right.

And meanwhile he stood there, looking so handsome in his suit, like he was a human being and not a monster. I glared at the man who had stolen my free will, turned me into his sex slave, and got the love of my life murdered!

“Sheila has to be warned,” I spat. “The bitch will have the same protection as him.”

* * *

Mark Glassner – Washington D.C.

“Get inside, Sir!” 51 shouted at me, pulling at my arm.

“Stay back!” I ordered her. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Hurt?” she asked as she let go of me. “Oh, no, what are you doing, Sir?”

“Something bold,” I grinned at her and then unleashed Molech’s flames.

The fire burst out of my soul, bottled there ever since I had killed the demon. My Celestial gold sword had stolen his power, all the energy he had absorbed after eons upon eons making deals with Mortals and from all the human sacrifices he had received. It had all flowed into me and then into Mary, shared by our souls bound by wishes and spells.

The flames danced harmlessly on me, but anyone touching me would be burned. And it was spectacular. People gasped, pointing to their god, remembering me from a week ago standing in flames with my goddess at my side, presiding over Brandon’s execution.

Another servant of evil had to be crushed.

“Uwph,” I muttered, activating the levitation spell.

My feet lifted from the ground. I soared over the crowd towards that window. I swallowed my fear of heights. Flying, even a few stories above the ground, unnerved me. I focused on my target: the window. I ignored the growing distance between me and the ground.

As I flew, I summoned my armor, the Celestial gold materializing about me, weighing me down slightly and forcing me to correct my trajectory. My stomach lurched. I wasn’t going to fall. I wasn’t going to fall.

Damn, I was high up.

Then I was at the window. I braced myself, crossing my arms and relying on my armor’s vambraces to protect my face. Only there was no glass to crash into. It was an illusion. Curtains rustled and I did a somersault.

I landed in a living room that looked like it belonged to an old lady, tidy, adorned with doilies and vases and pictures of children hanging on the walls. In the center of the room was a man, dark-haired and muscular, somehow drawing a circle that glowed white in the air.

Drawn by a dagger that appeared to be sunk into nothingness. What the hell was he doing?

The man whirled, yanking his dagger out of the nothingness. It was bronze and glinted sharply as the man went into a fighting stance, the dagger held low. I slipped into an aikido stance, the martial art Azrael had taught me in my dreams.

My heart raced as we eyed each other for a moment. The tension built between us. It was like there was a rope pulling on us both, growing stronger and stronger as we both waited for the other to move, to make the first attack.

And then he lashed out with the knife.

I followed its slicing arc, slid to the side, grabbed at his knife hand. He jerked back. I missed the grab, his dagger scraping harmlessly across my gold breastplate. His foot lashed out and caught me on the knee between the greaves and the metal skirt. The pain flashed through me.

I limped back and peered at him. He had a Black aura. He was a Thrall. “Stop!”

He ignored me.

That shocked me into rigid stupidity. How the hell did he do that? There was no red fringe around his black aura. He wasn’t under the Zimmah ritual. So why didn’t my power work on him?

Distracted by this revelation, I just barely noticed his knife thrusting at my face.

“Fuck,” I cursed, my arm snapping up, the attack glancing off my vambrace.

He stabbed and slashed quickly as I recovered, remembering my training from Azrael in the dreams. He was good, practiced. But I was strong, fast, enhanced by the Gift, taught by the Angel of Death herself how to fight.

He made a mistake, thrusting hard. I grabbed his wrist, shutting off my flames—I wanted to capture the assassin, not burn him to death—and jerked him forward. We both grunted, growled, grappling as I threw him to the floor.

Are you okay, Mark? Mary’s thought suddenly screamed through my mind as the assassin and I fell to the floor in a heap of grasping limbs.

Busy! I thought back.

Oh, god, Mark! Be careful!

The man bucked with his hip, rolling me off of him. Then he was on top of me, his dagger slamming down at my face, the point glinting as it rushed at my eye. Adrenaline surged through my body. I grabbed his wrist with my right hand, halting his blow. We strained against each other. I threw an awkward punch at his face with my left hand. He blocked it.

He growled, putting his weight into his arm, driving the dagger closer and closer to my face. My skin tensed. I struggled against him, grunting through clenched teeth as my death came nearer and nearer.

I. Would. Not. Die.

With a snarl, I bucked my hip and rolled him onto his back. He landed hard and I followed, still holding his wrist. I slammed the back of his hand into the floor. The knife skittered away as he grunted. Then I punched him as hard as I could in the face.

Too hard

My fist landed on his brow. I almost screamed in pain as I broke two of the knuckles on my right hand against his skull. The man blinked, looking stunned and trying to shake off the blow. Blood poured from a cut in his eyebrow. I grabbed the knife with my left hand and placed it at his throat.

“Who are you!” I demanded.

“A patriot,” he spat back. “Kill me, Tyrant. You will learn nothing from me!”

“How are you ignoring my commands?”

He spat in my face, stinging my eyes. Anger flashed through me like a firestorm. For a moment I started to press the knife into his throat before I stopped myself. I want him alive, I reminded myself. Adrenaline pounded through me, making it hard to think straight. This man tried to kill me, and every instinct made me want to drive the dagger home in retribution.

I took in a deep breath, trying to ignore the pain in my wrenched knee and broken knuckles, and calmed myself down.

There was an explosion at the door, wooden splinters raining, followed by my shouting soldiers. They froze in surprise and snapped to attention.

“My Lord,” the leading sergeant saluted, eyes burning with fervent light.

“Take him,” I ordered, rolling off the man.

As the soldiers grabbed the assassin, I closed my eyes and concentrated on healing my broken knuckles and wrenched knee. The pain melted away as the bones re-knit and torn ligaments mended. I flexed them as I stood up, dismissing my armor. It fell off me in golden sparkles. The prisoner was bound with plastic cuffs and the soldiers were searching him roughly.

I’m safe, Mary, I sent.

What were you thinking? my wife demanded. I just watched you on the news flying like a comet at the man who tried to kill you! We have bodyguards and soldiers for shit like that! I about had a heart attack watching your idiocy!

I felt sheepish. Sorry, Mare. I thought it would be good PR. You know, Gods shouldn’t run from danger.

Good PR? Good PR? I could feel an almost hysterical incredulity through the sending. You idiot! You’re too important to risk on goddamn foolishness like that. Don’t be a moron!

I let the insult slide. She was just scared. Watch out, Mare. This guy looked like a regular Thrall, but he ignored my orders.

Unease filled her, sending, Sam gets back tonight. I’m flying down to D.C. with her as soon as her plane lands.

What about the UN?

The UN can go fuck itself, Mark! Her fear and concern poured through the sending. I need to see that you’re all right. In person. I can always fly back to New York tomorrow in time.

Okay, Mare. Love you.

I love you too, even if you can be pigheadedly stupid sometimes. Good PR!

I couldn’t help laughing. The soldiers gave me awed looks. The prisoner just snarled.

* * *

Sheila Robbins – New York City, NY

I couldn’t believe it. They had magic that could stop bullets. This was a disaster.

“Pasaq!” I shouted and stabbed my bronze knife into the air and slowly drew open a portal into the Shadows.

I was in an apartment looking down at the Waldorf-Astoria entrance, the owner sleeping peacefully on his bed behind me. When I heard Noel’s command, breaking radio silence to warn me, I had turned on the news. I sat there stunned for the last fifteen minutes watching Baxter being dragged out by the soldiers, captured by Mark.

“This is utter horsecrap,” I cursed as I sawed open the portal.

The Tyrant was far more powerful than Noel had reckoned. How had he deflected the bullets? The news replayed the four shots over and over again, pointing out where you could see the bullet being deflected. Worse, that first shot caught the asshole by surprise. He hadn’t seen it coming. It would have killed him.

It was something that triggered passively. Some sort of protection.

“Come on,” I grunted, wanting to get back to base and regroup. I hoped our wishes would work. I hoped they couldn’t get any information from Baxter.

The portal opened. Through the blazing circle in reality, the mist of the Shadows undulated. I took a deep breath, shouldering my case that held my sniper rifle. I glanced out the window. Down before the hotel I could see the fake goddess herself, preening for the cameras, showing the world she didn’t fear assassins, blathering on about how amazing her husband was.

I wanted to be sick.

There had to be a way to stop her. If the sniper rifle didn’t work, then I’d use a different method. I had my knife. She was giving an interview. I could hear it on the TV now. I had time to move through the Shadows, pop out, and put an end to the bitch.

I leaped through the portal into the Shadows, gripping my knife. The portal whisked closed behind me. I pictured where she was at, imagining it in my mind so I could move through the top layer of Hell. I could feel it pulsing nearby. My destination.

I pictured it in my mind how I would kill her, appearing out of the Shadows. My knife stabs past her ribs and finds her heart. My blade was thick. It would destroy her heart. She would be dead before a cardiothoracic surgeon could even have a chance to save her.

Ten years in the CIA had taught me a few things.

I was surprisingly calm as I moved through the Shadows. I was going to die. It was unavoidable. Once I stepped out, I would have a few seconds to plunge my knife into her back before all those soldiers and sluts they called bodyguards would react and gun me down. It would be worth it. I would have killed one of the Tyrants.

Sometimes the mission is so important, so vital, to your Country’s freedom, that you have to give up your life. A lesson I learned at the Farm during my training. I had spent years in backwater hellholes to protect my Country, so there was no way I could stand back and watch the Tyrants destroy it.

I was prepared to die to keep it free.

Moving through the Shadows was different. Distances didn’t measure directly. After taking a few steps, I could see Mary through the mists when I concentrated. I thrust my dagger into the veil that separated the mortal world and the afterlife, and started carving my portal. It was faster to create on this side, somehow easier to return to the mortal world than to enter the spiritual.

I was going to die with Mary’s blood on my blade.

A cold hand grabbed me and yanked me backward. I spun around and came face-to-face with a blonde, naked woman. She stared fiercely into my eyes. Hers were blue and filled with an icy fury, an avenging Valkyrie.

“You will not touch our Mistress,” she hissed. Anger filled her voice, a terrible, cold rage that I had never felt in the living.

Our? I glanced around as I struggled in her cold grip only to see more women. Maybe a dozen of them, surrounding me.

“Shit!”

I stabbed my bronze knife at the blonde’s chest, aiming for her heart. I would have to kill her quickly if I had any chance against the rest. My thrust stabbed true. She didn’t even try to block it and—

The blade bounced off her breast, the tip slightly bent. The blonde didn’t even seem to notice the blow.

“You should not have come here, mortal,” the blonde told me. She had Scandinavian cheekbones. She was a Valkyrie—beautiful, implacable, deadly.

Her other hand lashed out, grabbing my throat, and squeezed. I struggled in vain as cold fingers choked off my air. No, I couldn’t die! Not without stabbing that Mary in the fucking heart! I could not fail and let that bitch live!

I tried to saw through the fingers about my throat with the bronze blade while my booted feet lashed at her legs. My toe cracked against her shin, and my knife didn’t even irritate her skin. My vision fuzzed, everything going black around me as my lungs burned for oxygen.

No! No! No! I will not be defeated by some naked, blonde bimbo!

The knife clattered from my hand. The strength fled my body. It was getting too hard to think. My vision reduced to a narrow tunnel filled with her fierce, blue eyes. No, I weakly protested as the tunnel shrank, narrowed, vanished.

I was falling, falling, falling.

Into darkness. Into fire.

“Welcome, welcome,” a familiar voice roared as the flames began to consume me, cracking my skin.

Lucifer appeared before me, shining like the sun. A red chain, molten and burning, bound about my neck and led to him. It was one of thousands. Tens of thousands. Everywhere I looked there were burning men and women roasting in the bronze oven. All the foolish idiots that sold their souls to him.

Oh, God, I made a mistake.

I tried to scream, but the flames burned down my throat when I opened my mouth, filling every fiber of my soul with pain. Nothing was worth this torment. No Country, no Flag, no person.

Oh, God, nothing was worth this torment!

To be continued…

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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!