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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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Xiu and I were lying in Their rumpled bed, Divine Mark’s passion cooling inside me and Divine Mary’s passion covering Xiu’s face, when He proclaimed the First Commandment of the Theocracy: “You shall not make Pacts with Demons.” I wrote furiously on a notepad; then She gave the Second Commandment: “You shall place no Gods before us, for they are false.”

—The Gospel of April 41:51-52

Mary Glassner

“Let’s go, Ma’am,” a bodyguard shouted, seizing my arm and pulling me out of the hospital room, leaving behind the mother cradling her newly healed baby.

“What?” I demanded as the bodyguard manhandled me into the hallway. Violet and April had pale faces as my protection closed in around us. “What is going on?”

“Spectre, Mistress,” Violet moaned as the ring of bodyguards forced us down the hallway.

I gripped my pregnant belly, just starting to become round with my child. My heart beat so fast. The damned Patriots again. We were healing children! Didn’t those monsters care? Or was killing us worth these poor children suffering?

I hated them.

I ran with the bodyguards through the hallways. They all had their weapons out, handguns or assault rifles, their eyes sweeping the hospital hallways. Each of their guns was loaded with bronze bullets inscribed with spells by Candy. It took delicate, time-consuming work to make a single round. You could often hear Candy’s frustrated curses echo out of Sam’s suite. But they were needed since normal bullets were ineffective against spiritual entities like demons or Lilith’s foul offspring.

And that was important right now.

“Spectre” was the codename for a demon attack. In the last week, the Patriots had tried a new strategy: summoning lesser demons and sending them after Mark and me. They rarely got past the Legion. But it still terrified me.

Thunder cracked outside. No, not thunder, but the booming of automatic gunfire. The Legion engaged the lesser demons. They weren’t fallen angels like Molech and Lucifer. Or even powerful human souls like Lilith. Lesser demons were the souls of regular men and women twisted by their eons-long imprisonment in Hell, tortured and twisted into soldiers by the Powers of Abyss to fight their never-ending wars.

I gritted my teeth, anger boiling up at the Patriots. They were growing more and more bold. Innocent people would get hurt in these attacks. The sooner the Matmown was finished, the sooner we could make our plans against the Patriots and Lilith without fear of them spying on us from the Shadows.

And against Lucifer. I tried not to think about that, afraid the Devil would read my thoughts.

We rounded a corner as another barrage of gunfire exploded. Mark stood at the end of the hallway, at the heart of his own ring of bodyguards. He looked so gallant in his golden armor, his sword raised. The ring of bodyguards around him wasn’t as tight, leaving him room to fight.

Radios crackled around me, squeaking with excitement.

“All clear,” 51 reported from the hallway. “Spectre neutralized.”

“Good,” I sighed, slowing to a walk. Mark’s eyes flashed up the hallway, giving me a tight nod.

“These attacks were so pointless,” I said to my husband, disgust thick in my voice. “The demons are always outclassed.”

Thanks to his Ragily prayer, the Legion weapons were enchanted to hurt demonic flesh without the bullets the bodyguards had to employ. So the demons never stood a chance against such firepower. It was utterly pointless.

“I know,” Mark said, his shoulders relaxing

51, standing at his side, turned, drawing her gun to point up at the ceiling.

I gasped as Mark spun, raising his weapon. My heart clenched as smoke billowed out of a ventilation grate. The lesser demon materialized into a solid form before my husband, swinging claws at his face.

“Mark!” I shouted in fright as the lucifugi, a demon of night, tried to kill my husband. The thing’s body resembled black smoke, wavering beneath the hallway’s florescent lights, as its brutal attack swept at Mark.

But my husband raised his arm, blocking the swipe easily on his armor’s vambrace. Then he sent a quick slash with his sword. The blade hissed, gleaming like liquid sunlight, and parted the demon’s head from its body.

I staggered, letting out the breath I had held as the creature fell into smoky pieces on the hospital floor. Black steam rose as the pieces boiled apart. Mark stayed tense, his head moving like the other bodyguards.

My head echoed with a single, fearful thought: if the lucifugi had attacked just a second earlier, it would have caught Mark off-guard. But 51 alerted him.

My skin crawled, noticing other vents in the ceiling. I tried to remember the training I had in the dreams, breathing in deeply, forcing myself to act, not to let fear cause me to react. The bodyguards stayed tense.

“Maybe this attack was smart, Mark,” I said. Talking was easier than doing nothing. “Sending a decoy to attack the Legion, while a lone demon slipped in.” I should have a gun. Then I could help defend everything.

“Fucking Patriots,” Mark muttered.

“We need to do something about them,” I growled.

“I couldn’t agree more.”

* * *

Mark Glassner

The rest of the day passed without incident. The Patriots had gambled on the lucifugi catching me unaware. We kept up a guard, but we weren’t about to stop healing the children. Between us, we restored sixty-one sick children to full health. We gathered out in front of the hospital with all the children so the photographers and news crews could record our benevolence.

It helped to cement our grasp on the U.S. and garner sympathies worldwide.

We extensively used the media to get as many people enthralled to us, and took other steps to get people under our power. We coordinated broadcasts with prisons around the U.S., commanding the inmates to obey the laws and to help improve their communities. Then we released them. Everyday, federal government offices across the country would hold live teleconferences with us, and it was mandatory that all their employees watch. We had seventy percent of the federal government’s employees under our power. Those that refused to come to work on the broadcast days were fired, their names given to the NSA to be monitored.

Our control spread across the U.S. borders into Canada and Mexico as well, and even overseas to parts of Europe. It wasn’t going nearly so well in Asia and the Middle East, where the governments were cracking down on our followers. Ruthless means were employed to stop the spread of my commands by shutting down their countries’ access to the internet and stopping local TV from carrying any foreign broadcasts.

And that didn’t even count the Warlocks sprouting like weeds across the world, causing all sorts of problems. Some were emulating me, though on a smaller scale, taking over parts of Africa and South America. Others were just doing what they pleased, forming harems of women, or men. Some were killing indiscriminately, and others were taking revenge on those who had slighted them in the past.

Two weeks ago, I had stood before the world and delivered the First Commandment of our Theocracy: “You shall not make Pacts with Demons,” I said, staring into the cameras, strong, resolute. I no longer felt nervous before them. I felt in control. Mary stood at my side, looking regal as always. “That’s why I ordered the President to sign the Anti-Warlock Act.”

Mary nodded her head, her auburn hair almost glowing like flames beneath the light. “Anyone who made a Pact with a demon, including Lucifer, is required to turn themselves in to be exorcised and will be pardoned for their mistake. We are merciful and loving gods, but pacts with the darkness will only lead to disaster.”

I fixed a steely gaze at the camera. “If you do not turn yourself in, when you are found, you will be executed. The darkness cannot be allowed to spread.”

Any Warlocks who heard our announcement would turn themselves in, but none did. The Warlocks understood our powers’ reach and took steps to avoid being snared. Not even after we had executed a few of the easy-to-find Warlocks on national TV had motivated any to accept our amnesty.

But they were too powerful to be allowed to roam free. They could do what Mary and I were doing. We couldn’t allow that to happen.

After our pictures were taken before the hospital, we climbed into the limo. “We did good today,” Mary whispered, nuzzling against my shoulder. “Didn’t we?”

“We did good,” I told her, holding my wife as she closed her eyes. “We’re doing more good than harm.”

She relaxed, closing her eyes. She fell asleep on my shoulder before our limo reached the airport. Healing took energy, and Mary’s pool of bound people to draw on was smaller than mine. As she dozed, I rested my other hand on her pregnant stomach, feeling her baby bump. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of my wife, the scent of her coconut shampoo masking a hint of sweat.

I felt the exhaustion, too. Forty-three children healed. Saved. That had to balance five warlocks beheaded.

“Sir,” 51 whispered, shaking my knee. “We’re here.”

I blinked, opening my eyes. I must have fallen asleep. Mary still leaned against me. I kissed her forehead and shook her.

She squirmed, then opened her emerald eyes. “Are we at the airport?”

“Yeah, Mare.”

Air Force One awaited us. And the media. No matter how tired we were, we put on our regal personas as we stepped out of the limo. It wouldn’t do for the masses to learn that we were just regular people who felt something as mundane as exhaustion. Reporters yelled questions, asking about the latest Patriots attack.

“The Patriots claimed today’s attack was retribution for the Governor Mansion Massacre,” one reporter shouted.

I froze, anger flooding into me, followed by guilt. Mary’s arm wrapped around my waist and gave me a comforting squeeze. When I ordered General Olmos to take care of the Governor of Texas when he seceded last month, I didn’t mean for him to execute the man on national television. Or to order his soldiers to massacre a peaceful gathering.

“That was a zealous individual acting on his own,” I answered evenly. “As I said before, the Patriots will use whatever flimsy excuse they can to justify their terrorism.”

“If we had sanctioned the attack, we wouldn’t have ordered General Olmos’s execution for murder, would we?” Mary asked the media, her tone gentle and patient—a mother lecturing her children. “If we are the monsters the Patriots claim, then why do we spend one day a week healing sick children? We love all of you, even our wayward Patriots.”

That was a good line of bullshit. Mary was better than me at this. We gave the media a wave and boarded our plane, ignoring the rest of their questions. When the plane reached its cruising altitude, we retired to our private cabin.

Mary undressed. I admired the curves of her body, drinking in her form. The pregnancy gave her skin a lustrous glow. My cock stirred with lust. Even the gentle swell of her baby bump was sexy. I caressed her hips and pulled her close to kiss her.

“I’m tired, Mark,” she murmured, putting a hand on my chest.

“Oh, yeah,” I said, trying to hide my disappointment. She needed her rest. I should have thought about it.

“Sorry,” she said, sensing it and making me feel worse. “I’ll make it up to you, okay?” She gave me a quick peck on the lips.

“You don’t have to do that,” I said. The sluts were in the cabin. I could enjoy Korina’s pregnant body, her baby bump more pronounced than Mary’s. I turned to head out as she crawled onto the bed.

“Hold me,” she murmured, arresting me at the door. “I want to fall asleep in your arms.”

I hid my irritated sigh prompted by my horniness. “Of course, Mare.”

I went to the bed and snuggled up against her, trying not to press my hard cock into her ass. She wiggled back into me and pressed her rear into my hardon. I kissed her on the cheek, her hair brushing my face, ticklish silk.

She sighed with contentment.

“G’nite,” she murmured, already falling asleep.

“Night, Mare.”

My cock ached. The wiggling of her plump ass against it did not help. I held my wife, eyes closed, struggling to ignore that throbbing need. As I considered calling in Korina to relieve the pressure in my cock with a quiet blowjob, I fell asleep.

“Finally,” Mary said, her voice whispering out of the darkness. “I was wondering how long you were going to stay awake. I was getting lonely.”

I blinked, confused for a moment before I realized we shared a dream. My toes wiggled, digging into a sandy beach. Sunlight spilled across my back, warming my flesh while waves crashed into the shore behind my wife. She sat on the white sands in a skimpy, yellow bikini, her skin a golden tan.

My eyes drank in her curvy figure, her stomach flat. She didn’t have to be pregnant in the dream. I smiled, noticing her ass looked a little slimmer. She believed her ass was a little too plump. I thought it was perfect. Just enough flesh to squeeze and jiggle.

I looked around for Azrael. But I didn’t spot the Angel of Death lurking around. It was through her that we shared dreams. Since Mary and I were Shamans, a mix of the powers of Heaven and Hell, we received an angel to guide us just like a nun or monk would. Azrael was our angelic guide, hoping that we’d use our powers for good instead of our own desires.

“She’s not here, Mark,” Mary answered. “Sam and I figured out how to connect our dreams without needing Azrael.”

“Great,” I grinned. Then I let out a hungry whistle. “And damn you are hot in that bikini.”

She smiled and stood up, letting me get a good look at her tanned body. “I’ve always wanted to go to the beach with you. Like Hawaii. And make love in the sea.” She grinned, her delightful dimples creasing her cheeks. “I told you I’d make it up to you.”

“You did,” I grinned, my cock hardening as I drank in her body. “I just thought you meant tomorrow.”

“Glad you didn’t sneak off to fuck one of the sluts?” she asked as she rose with grace, her breasts jiggling.

“Oh, yeah,” I grinned, advancing on her naked, my dick bobbing hard before me.

With a squeal, she dashed to the blue water. Her ass swayed and jiggled beautifully, cupped by her tight bikini bottom, as she ran. I chased after her, plowing into the warm water. White sprayed around me.

I reached for her, but my wife dived into the sea. She kicked through the water, head popping out of the waves farther out. The sea dampened her hair to a darker auburn, almost a deep brown. She trod water, grinning at me.

“Well?” she asked, green eyes flashing.

I dived into the water. It caressed my naked flesh as I swam after her. The warmth relaxed away all my cares and stress of the day. In a few strokes, I reached my wife. I caught her and pulled her to me. We shared a salty kiss.

Her arms and legs wrapped around me as we kissed. We floated in the water and shared our love. My hand moved down her back, finding the ties for her top. I pulled a string. The bikini floated away atop the waves.

I broke the kiss, bending down to stare at her tits. Her breasts were the same golden tan as the rest of her, bobbing just above the waves. With a hungry growl, I bent down, letting the seawater engulf me as I captured her nipple.

“Oh Mark,” she moaned as she ground her crotch into my stomach.

Still sucking her nipple, I untied her bikini bottoms. The skimpy cloth floated away, her hot, waxed snatch rubbing directly on my skin. She ground against me, thighs locked about my waist as I sucked on her hard nub.

She grasped my head and pulled my lips off her nipples. Her green eyes smoldered as her lips captured mine in a hot kiss. Brine flavored her lips. Her tongue invaded my mouth, inflaming my lusts. I moaned as her hand, reaching behind her, found my hard cock.

We kissed harder, rocked by the waves as we kissed. I kicked my legs to keep our heads above the warm water, my body trembling. Her hand stroked my cock, pleasure racing down my shaft. I shuddered, hands squeezing and kneading her plump ass.

My dick ached to be in her. Mary either sensed my need, or maybe her pussy needed to be filled, because her hands lifted my cock, guiding me to that hot pussy grinding on my stomach. Her hips shifted, and she engulfed my cock to the hilt.

Mary broke the kiss, moaning, “Yes, yes!”

“My naughty filly,” I growled as her spongy warmth engulfed me.

I gripped her ass, fingers digging into her bubbly flesh as she worked her pussy up and down my dick. Her thighs flexed as she fucked me, her breasts heaving between us. She grinned at me, her eyes sparking with naughty delight.

“Yes, yes, yes, I love this cock,” she moaned.

“Naughty filly,” I groaned.

“Always,” she breathed, twirling her hips, stirring her rapturous flesh around my dick.

I groaned, my hips bucking back. I stopped kicking, letting us slip beneath the waves. But that didn’t matter. It was a dream. We didn’t need to breathe. We only needed to love each other. Her hair fanned around us as we floated in the bright blue of the ocean. Coral glowed along the ocean floor and colorful fish zipped around us.

Our bodies heaved against each other. We slowly spun about as the waves surged to the shore, pleasure rippling through us. Bubbles escaped our lips as we moaned, floating lazily to the surface. Her breasts rubbed against my chest as her pussy boiled around my cock.

Rapture built.

Pleasure swelled.

We writhed against each other. Her cunt squeezed my cock with her familiar grip. I plunged my dick over and over into her pussy, loving the silky pleasure around my dick. I gripped her ass so hard as her hot sheath worked up and down my dick.

Her pussy grew hotter. Her passion grew. I knew how to please my wife.

Muffled moans echoed beneath the water as we gasped and groaned. We stared into each other’s eyes, lost in love as our bodies heaved together. Her auburn hair floated about us, the lazy tendrils of a sea anemone.

My balls tensed, bursting to explode.

Her pussy caressed my dick with silky folds.

My body spasmed as the pleasure swelled.

Bubbles exploded from Mary’s mouth. Her pussy spasmed about my cock. She thrashed in orgasmic delight, pressing her firm breasts against my chest. I groaned, her cunt milking my cock, hungry for my cum.

I reveled in the feel of her pussy, thrusting harder into her spasming depths. The tight, silky friction brought my balls to a swift boil. I growled, bubbles fountaining from my mouth as I came hard. Tense pleasure surged out of my cock. And cum pumped into my wife.

Her pussy writhed about my dick, massaging me as I spurted over and over. The pleasure burned hot through us both. We clung to each other, sharing our rapture in the warmth of the ocean. I never wanted it to end.

But it did.

I held my wife as we lazily spun in the ocean, coming down from our pleasure. Mary clung to me, her cheek resting on my chest. My cock remained buried inside her and, as she shifted her weight, my dick hardened again.

Our passions grew, urging our hips to move.

I wanted to float with her forever in this ocean, just making love. An eternity of love and passion.

I fucked her again. She ground her clit against me. A second orgasm burst through her, spasming rapture about my dick. She tightly held me, bubbles birthing from her mouth, rising to the surface.

I groaned, driving over and over into her flesh, loving the pleasure trembling my body. I made her feel amazing. And she made me feel like a god. I groaned, my balls ready to burst. Her pussy muscles writhed on my shaft.

A flood of bubbles streamed out of my mouth as my second load of cum shot into my wife’s depths. I heaved against her. Every nerve in my body exploded with rapture. My mind drank it in, lost to the pleasure of my naughty filly.

For an eternity, we loved each other.

And then we washed up onto the sandy beach, still wrapped around each other. Mary lay atop me, her wet hair brushing my cheek. I was still inside her, hard and ready. She leaned up on her arms, her breasts brushing my chest. I stroked her cheek. A wave surged around us, warm and salty.

“I wish we could just stay here forever,” I said.

She smiled at my words, gently rocking her hips. A slow, languid rhythm. “I would love that.”

“We could find a beach like this, away from everything. Leave all of this responsibility behind. Just us and the sluts… and the maids. A magnificent beach mansion full of hot women eager to please us.”

Her green eyes sparkled dreamily, then she sighed. “Our enemies would just find us,” Mary answered, her words bitter. “The Patriots, Lilith, and…” She swallowed her last word. I wondered whom she was about to name. Ever since she spoke with the Mother Superior, she had been cagey about a revelation.

Something so important that she could reveal it only in the Matmown.

“We have this night,” I told her.”

“We can return here every night,” Mary whispered. “Our safe refuge from the world. Just me and you.”

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!