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Der Pakt mit dem Teufel Kapitel 2: Der Salon

 

 

Der Pakt mit dem Teufel

Kapitel 2: Der Salon

Von mypenname3000

Übersetzt von Horem

© Copyright 2013, 2014


Story Codes: Male/Female, Female/Female, Mind Control, Cum Swallowing, Exhibitionism, Oral, Work, Magic

Yes, this is in German. Horem graciously offered to translate the Devil’s Pact into German. For a list of all the Devil’s Pact Chapters and other stories click here

Comments are very welcome. I would like all criticism, positive and negative, so long as its
constructive, and feedback is very appreciated.



Click here for Kapitel 1



Ich verließ Starbucks und ging in die Sonne. Ich fühlte mich wie neugeboren. Vielleicht lag es daran, dass ich tatsächlich eine neue Frau war. Als ich heute früh wach wurde, war ich einfach Mary Sullivan, Studentin und Barista. Dann kam Mark. Und in einigen wenigen Minuten veränderte mich seine Anwesenheit. Sie erweckte Bedürfnisse, die lange in meinem Herz vergraben gewesen waren und er zeigte mir Genüsse, von denen ich nie geträumt hatte, dass ich sie erleben könnte. Er hatte in meine Seele geschaut und ich in seine und wir hatten Liebe füreinander gefunden.

Jetzt bin ich seine Frau. Seine Liebhaberin. Der Gedanke machte mir ein warmes Gefühl in meinem Bauch. Mark hatte mich gekannt, er hatte meinen Körper gekannt, intimer als jeder andere zuvor. Er kannte jeden Teil meines Körpers, selbst meinen Arsch. Ich rieb mir den Hintern, der noch ein wenig wund war. Das war aber ein angenehmer Schmerz, der mich daran erinnerte, wie tief Mark seinen Schwanz in mich hinein getrieben hatte. Wie gut es sich angefühlt hatte, als sein Sperma warm und nass in meine Eingeweide spritzte! Kein Mann, kein Gegenstand, war je zuvor in meinem Arsch gewesen. Mein Exfreund Mike hatte das immer haben wollen. Und ich hatte immer nein gesagt. Ich hatte immer gedacht, dass das zu schmutzig sei und ich hatte Angst davor gehabt, dass es weh tun könnte. Mark hatte mir gezeigt, dass es sehr lustvoll war.

Ich glaube, dass ich Mike nie genug getraut hatte. Ich war mir nie wirklich sicher gewesen, dass er mir nicht vielleicht doch irgendwann wehtut. Es kam ihm immer mehr auf seine eigene Lust an. Ich war immer froh, wenn er lange genug durchhielt, dass auch ich einen Orgasmus bekam. Und dann rollte er immer einfach von mir herunter und schlief ein. Ich musste normalerweise masturbieren, während er neben mir lag und schnarchte. Seine Vorstellungen von einem Vorspiel bestanden darin, meine Brüste anzugrabschen, vielleicht an meinen Nippeln zu lutschen und mir dann sofort seinen Schwanz reinzuschieben. Normalerweise musste ich Gleitmittel benutzen, weil er sich kaum darum bemühte, meine Muschi richtig nass zu machen. Er liebte es, wenn ich ihm Blowjobs gab und er spritzte gerne in mein Gesicht. Aber ich konnte ihn nie dazu kriegen, meine Möse zu lecken. Ich hatte Mike immer wieder getroffen, seit ich ihn in meinem ersten Jahr an der High School kennengelernt hatte. Er entjungferte mich auf dem Rücksitz vom Honda seiner Mutter am Abend nach dem Abschlussball. Er war mein einziger Liebhaber, also hatte ich keine Ahnung, was ich alles vermisste, bis ich Mark traf.

Und es ging nicht nur um die Lust, die ein Mann geben kann. Mark hatte auch meine geheimen Wünsche gefunden, solche Wünsche, von denen ich gar nicht gewusst hatte, dass ich sie habe. Und er hatte sie offengelegt. Zusammen mit meiner Kollegin Cynthia hatte ich gelernt, welche Lust eine Frau mir geben konnte und auch die Lust, die ich einer Frau geben konnte. Cynthias Zunge hatte sich so gut an meiner Vulva und an meinem Kitzler angefühlt. Und ihr Aroma war diese süße, würzige Mischung, die so unglaublich gut schmeckte. Meine Lust auf Frauen musste immer schon dagewesen sein, ganz tief in mir drin. Sie muss der Grund gewesen sein, warum ich es bei Übernachtungspartys immer total toll gefunden hatte, mit den anderen Mädchen französische Küsse zu üben. Oder warum ich mich immer lebhaft an die Umkleideräume in der Schule und an die nackten Körper meiner Klassenkameradinnen erinnerte. Allein die Vorstellung ihrer knospenden Brüste, der schmalen Hüften und der ersten spärlichen Schamhaars sorgten dafür, dass ich ein feuchtes Höschen bekam.

Ich schaute auf Mark und spürte, wie ich errötete und wie mein Herzschlag sich beschleunigte. Irgendetwas hatte er, etwas, dem ich nicht widerstehen konnte. Er war gar nicht besonders attraktiv. Seine Brille mit dem Metallgestell war zu groß und sein Doppelkinn ließ sein Gesicht zu rund erscheinen. Und er war definitiv zu dick. Sein Körper war weich. Sein Bauch hing und er hatte Speckrollen an den Hüften. Außerdem hatte er einen Ansatz von Brüsten. Seine Augen waren definitiv seine hervorstechendste Eigenschaft. Dunkelblaue Seen, die mit ihrer Intensität in meine Seele eindringen konnten.

Liebe macht blind. Mark sah sicher nicht besser aus als Mike. Ich hätte ihn sicher vor heute Morgen nicht ein zweites Mal angesehen. Aber dann hatte sich Mark in mich verliebt. Nicht in die wilde Cynthia. Die so erfahren war, was den Sex angeht. Und die sich immer mit ihren One-Night-Stands mit irgendeinem Kerl oder mit irgendeinem Mädchen brüstete, die sie in einer Bar getroffen hatte. Oder die sportliche gebräunte Vivian mit ihrer rauchigen Schlafzimmerstimme und ihren Riesentitten. Dieser Art von Titten, denen die Kerle immer hinterher keuchen. Ich war gar nichts im Vergleich zu den beiden, aber Mark hatte sich in mich verliebt. Und ich mich in ihn.

Ich schaute ein letztes Mal zum Starbucks zurück und ich wusste, dass ich nie wieder zurückkehren würde. Heute früh war ich als schüchternes Mädchen hingegangen und ich war als selbstbewusste Frau gegangen, als eine Frau, die sowohl Mösen geleckt als auch Schwanz gelutscht hatte und die überall an ihrem Körper gefickt und geleckt worden war. Ich war für Mark so geworden. Das machte Mark glücklich. Und das machte mich selber auch glücklich.

„Hast du ein Auto?“ fragte Mark. Seine Stimme war ein voller warmer Bariton, den man nicht überhören konnte.

„Nicht wirklich“, sagte ich. „Mike hat einen Pickup, aber er wollte heute nicht früh aufstehen und mich zur Arbeit bringen. Was soll ich denn jetzt mit der Karre machen, wo ich doch nicht mehr arbeite.“ Ich gab mir keine Mühe, meine Irritation zu verbergen.

Mike war ein Arschloch. Ich bin froh, dass ich mit ihm Schluss gemacht habe. Ich wurde rot, als ich daran dachte, wie ich ihm das gesagt hatte. Das war sicher nicht die übliche Weise gewesen und ich fühlte mich ein wenig schuldig deswegen. Dabei war ich mir nicht ganz sicher, ob ich mich schuldig fühlte, weil ich über das Telefon mit ihm Schluss gemacht hatte, während Mark mich in den Arsch fickte oder weil ich mich so super geil und versaut gefühlt hatte, als ich das tat und weil ich einen derartig großartigen Orgasmus dabei erlebt hatte.

Mark öffnete die Beifahrertür für mich und ich blinzelte überrascht wegen des Durcheinanders in seinem Auto. Der ganze Boden war mit Einwickelpapier aus Fastfood-Restaurants bedeckt und mit leeren Getränkebechern. Ich wollte etwas sagen, aber ich tat es nicht. Ich wollte nichts Gemeines sagen. Das würde Mark nicht glücklich machen. „Du gehst wohl gerne mal zu McDonalds“, sagte ich lahm.

„Sorry“, sagte er und wurde verlegen rot. „Scheiße, tut mir echt leid.“ Er beugte sich nach unten und fing an, das Papier auf den Rücksitz zu werfen.

„Man kann ziemlich deutlich sehen, dass du schon lange keine Freundin mehr hattest“, sagte ich und versuchte damit, die Peinlichkeit der Situation zu überspielen.

„Nein“, sagte er ein wenig verbittert. Dann drehte er sich zu mir. Sein Finger streichelte meine Wange. „Aber jetzt habe ich dich.“

Mein Herz schmolz und ich musste ihn einfach küssen. Er war so süß. Gar nicht wie Mike. Mike hatte mir schon ewig nichts Nettes mehr gesagt. Marks Arme schlangen sich um mich und er zog mich dich an sich, während ich ihn küsste. Seine Hand rutschte nach unten und er drückte durch meine Hose meinen Po. Er scheint meinen Arsch wirklich zu lieben, er hat ihn schon den ganzen Morgen gestreichelt. Ich beendete den Kuss und rutschte in den Beifahrersitz. Mark ging um das Auto herum und setzte sich auf den Fahrersitz. Er machte den Motor an. Der Keilriemen kreischte und die Maschine hustete und erwachte zum Leben.

Mark schaute mich an. „Ich will dich nicht beleidigen, Mare, aber diese Uniform ist nicht besonders schmeichelhaft.“

„Mare?“ fragte ich und gab vor, beleidigt zu sein. „Mare? Bin ich dein Pferd?“

Mark blinzelte. „Sorry. Ich hatte gedacht, dass das süß klingt. Mare als Kurzform von Mary.“ Er wurde leicht nervös und ich musste kichern. Man konnte ihn so leicht auf den Arm nehmen. Mark entspannte sich, als er merkte, dass ich nicht beleidigt war. „Aber du bist doch schon mein kleines Fohlen, oder?“ fragte er fröhlich.

Ich wieherte und lachte. „Dann bist du aber mein Hengst.“

Mark lehnte sich zu mir. „Dein Hengst!“ Er küsste mich hart und seine Zunge füllte meinen Mund aus. „Dein Hengst ist ein wenig verspielt.“

Ich fühlte mich ziemlich mutig und rieb seinen Schwanz durch seine Hose. Er wurde hart. „Mmmm, ja das bist du!“ schnurrte ich zustimmend.

Marks Hand schlüpfte unter mein Shirt und er fasste meine linke Brust durch meinen BH an. Sein Mund lag auf meinem und diesmal füllte meine Zunge seinen Mund. Seine Finger rieben meinen Nippel durch den BH. Durch meinen Körper flossen wunderbare Gefühle bis hinunter in meine Muschi. Sie wurde heiß und nass. Mein Saft lief in mein Höschen. Ich bewegte meine Schenkel und rieb so meinen Kitzler an meinem Höschen. Meine Finger öffneten seine Hose und machten den Reißverschliss auf. Dann zog ich seinen Schwanz aus seiner Hose. Er war ganz warm in meinen Händen und er pochte. Er stöhnte in meine Lippen, als ich seinen Schwanz ein paar Mal streichelte.

Mark schob mir nun das Shirt nach oben und ich musste leider seinen Schwanz loslassen, damit er es über meinen Kopf bekam. Dann griff er hinter mich und fummelte am Verschluss meines BHs. Er fluchte und dann war der BH offen und meine Titten waren nackt. Mark lutschte an meinen Nippeln. Ich stöhnte leise. Es fühlte sich so gut an. Er wechselte immer zwischen beiden ab. Seine Zunge war rau und nass. Meine Hand fand wieder seinen Schwanz und ich fing an, ihn zu wichsen.

Er lautes Klopfen an die Scheibe erschreckte mich. Eine mittelalte Frau rief: „Ihr Perversen!“

Ich wurde rot. Ich war so vom Moment gebannt gewesen, dass ich völlig vergessen hatte, dass wir noch immer auf dem Parkplatz bei Starbucks standen. Ich bedeckte meine Brüste und Mark grinste mich jungenhaft an. „Es gibt nichts, wofür du dich schämen musst, Mare“, sagte er mir in einem befehlenden Tonfall. „Deine Brüste sind wunderschön. Du solltest sie überhaupt gar nicht verstecken.“

Mark hatte recht. Meine Brüste waren wirklich wunderschön. Ich nahm meine Hände weg und starrte die Frau an. Dann fuhr ich mit meiner rechten Hand hinüber und griff nach dem harten Schwanz meines Hengstes und wichste den warmen Schaft langsam. Die Frau schnaubte angeekelt und zog ihr Telefon aus der Tasche. Mark legte den Rückwärtsgang ein und fuhr aus der Parklücke.

„Lass uns einen etwas abgeschiedeneren Ort finden“, sagte er und ich drückte zustimmend seinen Schwanz.

Mark brachte uns zu einem Weg auf der anderen Seite des Parkplatzes und stieg aus. Er kam schnell zu meiner Seite. Er öffnete meine Tür und streckte seine Hand aus. Ich nahm sie mit meiner rechten Hand und sein Daumen streichelte leicht über meinen Handrücken. Dann hob er meine Hand an seinen Mund und küsste sie sanft, als sei ich seine Dame. Das war süß und ich lächelte ihn glücklich an. Er half mir aus dem Auto. Die Luft war frisch an meinen Nippeln und es fühlte sich total verdorben an, oben ohne in der Öffentlichkeit zu stehen. Mein Höschen war inzwischen tropfnass vor Erregung. Mark drehte mich um und drückte mich vorwärts über die Motorhaube seines Autos. Er streichelte meinen Arsch durch meine Hose. Ich knöpfte meine Hose auf und schob sie an meinen Beinen nach unten. Sie lag nun an meinen Fußgelenken.

„Oh mein Gott, du bist so unglaublich sexy“, stöhnte Mark. Er hakte seine Finger in mein Höschen und zog es an meinen Beinen nach unten.

Und dann war er in mir. Er fickte mich hart von hinten. Ich fiel auf meine Ellbogen auf der Motorhaube und keuchte vor Lust, als er meine Muschi mit seinem harten Schwanz füllte. Seine Eier klatschten bei jedem Stoß gegen meinen Kitzler. Ich stöhnte lang und laut. Ich genoss das Gefühl seines harten Schwanzes in mir. Er zog sich zurück, dabei rieb sich sein Schwanz toll an den Wänden meiner Muschi. Und dann stieß er wieder hart nach vorne. Und dann wieder. Und wieder. Lust durchlief meinen Körper. Meine Nerven waren äußerst angespannt.

„Mein süßes Fohlen!“ keuchte Mark. „Mein süßes wildes Fohlen!“

„Oh, fick mich!“ stöhnte ich. „Fick dein Fohlen! Fick mich du großer Hengst. Oh Gott! Dein Schwanz ist so gut!“

Mark fickte mich hart und schnell. Mein Kitzler rieb sich lustvoll an dem kalten Metall des Autos. Das war ein schöner Kontrast zu Marks heißem Schwanz in meiner Muschi. Ich keuchte, als er mich an meinem Pferdeschwanz zog. Ich fühlte mich so richtig nuttig. „Fick dein Fohlen!“ stöhnte ich. „Reite mich hart!“

Ich schaute auf und sah einen Teenager von vielleicht 15 Jahren, der uns mit seinem Telefon filmte. Mit einem verdorbenen Lächeln blinzelte ich dem Jungen zu. Dann stützte ich mich auf meinen Ellbogen hoch, damit der Teenager auch sehen konnte, wie meine Titten schwangen, während mein Hengst mich fickte. Ich musste mich wegen nichts schämen. Mark hatte recht. Meine Brüste waren wirklich wundervoll. Ich nahm einen Nippel und kniff hinein. Ich war eine verdorbene dreckige Nutte. Ich spürte, wie sich in mir ein Orgasmus aufbaute und ich drückte Marks Schwanz fest mit meiner Möse.

„Mein Fohlen ist so eng!““ rief Mark. „Oh Gott, es kommt mir!“

Meine Muschi zog sich schnell zusammen, als Mark mir seinen Saft hinein schoss. Er war heiß und dickflüssig und er löste meinen Orgasmus auch aus. Ich warf meinen Kopf zurück und schrie ohne Worte, als die Lust mir durch den Körper schoss. Keuchend fickte Mark mich noch ein paar Male und meine Muschi molk die letzten Tropfen seiner Sahne aus ihm heraus. Ich seufzte leise, stand auf und drückte meinen Rücken gegen seine Brust. Marks Arme waren um meine Taille geschlungen. Er drückte mich an sich. Seine Finger streichelten meinen Bauch und spielten mit den Locken von meinem Schamhaar. Sein Schwanz wurde in meine Muschi jetzt weich. Er knabberte an meinem Hals. Wir waren in unserer eigenen glücklichen kleinen Welt.

Und dann sah ich, dass der Teenager uns immer noch filmte. Unsere private Welt verschwand. Dass der Junge uns beim Ficken zugeschaut hatte, hatte mich geil und sexy gemacht. Dass er jetzt zusah, wie wir uns aneinander kuschelten, zerstörte die Intimität. Ich sah den Jungen an und er grinste. „Mark, ein Teenager filmt uns“, sagte ich.

„Geh nach Hause!“ rief Mark dem Jungen zu. Der Bursche sprang auf sein Skateboard und verzog sich. Mark zog seinen Schwanz aus mir heraus und ich spürte, wie sein Sperma anfing, an meinen Oberschenkeln herunter zu laufen. Ich zog mein Höschen und meine Hose wieder hoch, während Mark seinen Schwanz wieder verpackte. „Irgendwie hat der Bursche es versaut“, sagte Mark bedauernd.

„Ja“, sagte ich. „Aber der Sex war geiler!“

Mark kicherte kurz und küsste mich. „So ein verdorbenes kleines Fohlen!“

Ich lächelte, griff in das Auto und holte meinen BH heraus. Mark hatte die Schließe zerbrochen. Ich hielt ihm den BH hin und schüttelte den Kopf. „Das ist doch gar nicht so schwer, Mark“, sagte ich amüsiert.

„Sorry“, sagte Mark. „Ich kaufe dir einen neuen. Wo wir gerade von Kleidung sprechen, wir müssen dir was anderes kaufen, was Schöneres als dieses Polohemd. Obwohl, dein Arsch sieht in dieser Hose wirklich klasse aus. Wo wohnst du eigentlich?“

Ich wohnte mit Mike zusammen und ein Schuldgefühl kochte in mir hoch. „Ich wohne… ich meine, ich wohnte mit Mike zusammen. Nach dem, was ich getan habe…“ Ich ließ den Satz in der Luft hängen. Ich hatte nie gedacht, dass ich Mike betrügen würde. Ich tröstete mich damit, dass er mich wahrscheinlich selber mit dieser Tussi mit den dicken Titten von seiner Arbeit betrogen hatte. Er hatte das zwar abgestritten und mir gesagt, dass ich eifersüchtig sei und überreagierte. Er hatte mich fast überzeugt. Aber die Art und Weise, wie diese Schlampe ihn anschaute, ließ mich doch manchmal denken, dass da etwas passiert sein musste.

Mark nickte. „Ja, das war schon ziemlich gemein von mir“, sagte er. „Aber mach dir nichts draus, Mare!“ es war nett von Mark, dass er die Schuld auf sich nahm. Und es half mir tatsächlich ein bisschen. „Es war einfach so…“ Er suchte nach dem richtigen Wort.

„Verdorben?“

Das jungenhafte Grinsen kam zurück und er nickte. „Genau. So verdorben!“

„Ich glaube, ich kann ihm nicht unter die Augen treten, jedenfalls nicht jetzt.“ Ich griff ins Auto und nahm mein schwarzes Poloshirt und zog es mir über den Kopf. Der Stoff rieb angenehm über meine Nippel. Sie waren noch immer ein wenig empfindlich von meinem Orgasmus.

„Okay, Mare. Lass uns einkaufen gehen. Wir kaufen dir ein paar neue Sachen.“

Ich umarmte Mark glücklich. Mike war nie mit mir zusammen einkaufen gegangen. Mich daran zu erinnern, wie schlecht Mike mich behandelt hatte, half mir auch, mich weniger schuldig zu fühlen. „Okay, gehen wir einkaufen.“

Wir stiegen wieder in sein schmutziges Auto. Mark würde es definitiv sauber machen müssen, wenn er erwartete, dass ich mit ihm fuhr. Mark drehte den Zündschlüssel und der Motor erwachte mit einem lauten Stottern. Mark fuhr uns aus dem Parkplatz heraus und auf die Pacific Avenue, die Hauptstraße durch Spanaway und Parkland und nach Tacoma. Während wir fuhren, fiel mir ein, dass wir beide so ungefähr alle Spielarten des Sex ausgeübt hatten, von denen ich schon gehört hatte und ich wusste noch nicht einmal seinen Nachnamen. Ich fragte ihn also.

Mark blinzelte mich an. „Wow. Ich glaube, wir wissen beide noch nicht besonders viel voneinander. Lass uns mal sehen.“ Er machte eine Pause und dachte nach. „Ich heiße Mike Glassner. Ich bin 28 Jahre alt. Seit ich 18 bin, habe ich eigentlich nur Scheiß-Jobs gehabt. Im Moment arbeite ich als Staubsaugervertreter.“

Ich musste unwillkürlich lachen. „Gibt es sowas tatsächlich noch?“

„Nicht besonders erfolgreich“, antwortete Mark. „Die meisten Leute hören höflich zu und dann sagen sie mir höflich, dass ich mich verpissen soll.“

„Nun, Mark, es überrascht mich, dass das nicht gut läuft bei dir. Du hast immerhin drei völlig fremde Mädchen dazu überredet, eine Orgie mit dir zu haben.“ Ich zog meine Augenbrauen zusammen und fragte mich ernsthaft, wie er das geschafft hatte. Seine Stimme war sehr befehlend. Ich hatte ihm einfach gehorchen müssen. Konnte man so etwas lernen?

Mark schien sich nicht ganz wohl zu fühlen, also wechselte ich das Thema. Vielleicht würde ich irgendwann mal auf sein Geheimnis kommen. Vor mir lag ja noch ein ganzes Leben, um es herauszufinden. „Was ist mit deiner Familie?“ fragte ich ihn.

„Ich habe eine kleinere Schwester“, sagte Mark. „Obwohl ich glaube, dass Antsy nicht mehr ganz so klein ist. Immerhin hat sie im vergangenen Jahr mit dem College angefangen.“

„Antsy? Das ist aber ein merkwürdiger Name.“

„Eigentlich heißt sie Samantha“, erklärte Mark. „Als sie noch klein war, konnte sie nie still sitzen. Deswegen hat mein Vater sie damals Antsy genannt. Meine Schwester lebt noch bei meinen Eltern, aber ich bin ausgezogen, als ich 18 geworden war.“

Seine Stimme klang bitter und ich spürte Verletzungen. Ich rieb ihm tröstend über den Oberschenkel. „Meine Mutter war auch nicht so wahnsinnig toll“, sagte ich voller Verständnis.

„Es war mein Vater“, sagte Mark nach einer sehr langen Pause. „Er war ganz okay, bis ich elf war. Dann hat er sich den Rücken verletzt. Hat er jedenfalls gesagt. Er war ein Hafenarbeiter im Hafen von Tacoma. Er konnte dann nicht mehr arbeiten und er ging in die Invalidität. Das Geld wurde knapp. Meine Mutter musste arbeiten gehen und mein Vater“, Mark schnaubte spöttisch, „mein Vater fing an zu saufen. Und dann wurde er ausfallend. Mir gegenüber und meiner Mutter. Und manchmal sogar gegen Antsy. Als ich älter wurde, lehnte ich mich gegen ihn auf und ich entdeckte, dass ich ebenso stark war wie er. Der Bastard schmiss mich also raus, als ich meinen Abschluss hatte. Ich habe ein paarmal versucht, meine Mutter davon zu überzeugen, ihn besser zu verlassen, aber sie macht das nicht. Sie sagt, dass sie ihn liebt, aber ich glaube, in Wirklichkeit hat sie Angst davor, allein zu sein. Sie sagt mir, dass er sie nicht mehr schlägt, seit ich ausgezogen bin, aber…“

„Aber du glaubst, dass sie nur versucht, ihn zu beschützen“, beendete ich den Satz und drückte seinen Schenkel. Er nickte.

Mark räusperte sich. Er machte das, was Männer machen, wenn sie so tun, als würden sie nicht gleich anfangen zu weinen. „Und was ist mit dir?“ krächzte er. Seine Stimme klang ganz belegt. Er räusperte sich noch einmal. „Wie ist denn dein Nachname?“

„Sullivan“, antwortete ich sofort. „Ich bin neunzehn. Ich habe zwei Schwestern. Shannon ist meine ältere Schwester und Missy meine jüngere.“

„Ich muss definitiv aufhören, meine Schwester als Kind zu betrachten. Schließlich bin ich mit jemandem zusammen, der genauso alt ist wie sie“, warf Mark ein.

„Du bist eben ein Kinderficker“, sagte ich. „Du verführst kleine Mädchen auf deine lüsterne Art und Weise.“

Wir hielten an einer roten Ampel an und Mark beugte sich zu mir und küsste mich. „Schuldig im Sinne der Anklage“, sagte er. Er küsste mich auf die Wange und schnüffelte an meinem Hals. Die Ampel wurde grün und hinter uns ertönt eine Hupe. Mark grinste mich jungenhaft an und fuhr los.

„Ich arbeite bei Starbucks in Teilzeit. Habe ich jedenfalls getan.“ Ich wurde rot, als mir wieder in den Kopf kam, was wir heute Morgen getan hatten. „Ich habe damit ein bisschen was dazu verdient, damit ich das mit dem College schaffe. Also solltest du dein Staubsaugergeschäft ein bisschen verstärken, damit ich wenigstens auf dem Level bleiben kann, an das ich mich gewöhnt habe.“

„Geld wird kein Problem sein, Mare“, sagte er zuversichtlich. Dieser Spitzname Mare gefiel mir zunehmend besser. Irgendwie wünschte ich mir, dass ich auch einen für ihn hätte. Mark lässt sich aber nicht wirklich sinnvoll abkürzen. Außer vielleicht Mar. Und das klingt blöd. Vielleicht Ark? Nein. Hengst war ein fantastischer Spitzname, wenn er mich fickte, aber den konnte ich sonst schlecht benutzen.

„Und wo gehst du ins College?“

„Ich bin am DeVry in Federal Way“, antwortete ich. „Ich arbeite an einem Abschluss in graphischem Design.“

Mark sah mich anerkennend an. „Ich hatte ja keine Ahnung, dass ich mit einer talentierten Künstlerin unterwegs bin. Ich würde dich gerne mal arbeiten sehen.“

Ich wurde rot. „So gut bin ich nun auch wieder nicht“, sagte ich. Es gab Leute, besonders mein Vater und meine Schwestern, die meine Arbeit toll fanden, aber ich sah immer nur die Mängel und die Fehler. „Aber ich zeige dir gerne ein paar Sachen, wenn du möchtest.“

Er drückte meine Hand auf seinem Schenkel und führte sie dann zu seinen Lippen. Er küsste meine Fingerspitzen. „Ich möchte.“ Er hielt meine Hand fest und fuhr nur noch mit der linken. Mark bog rechts ab auf die 512, in Richtung South Hill und seiner Mall. „Du hast gesagt, dass deine Mama nicht so toll war?“ fragte er, als wir uns in den fließenden Verkehr eingefädelt hatten.

Ich zögerte. Ich redete nicht gerne über meine Mutter. Mark drückte ermutigend meine Hand. „Wenn es dir zu weh tut, dann musst du mir auch nichts erzählen.“

Ich atmete tief. Mark war mein Seelenverwandter. Er hatte ein Recht, es zu wissen. „Als ich sechs war, hat meine Mama…“ Ich brach ab und wischte mir die Tränen weg, die in meinen Augen standen. Meine Mama hatte in mir eine Wunde hinterlassen, die sich jedes Mal wieder öffnete, wenn ich an sie dachte. „Sie hat meinen Papa verlassen. Sie hat ihn betrogen und dann ist sie mit diesem Musiker abgehauen.“ Ich machte eine Pause und kämpfte mit meinem Schluchzen. Wie hatte uns diese Hure nur allein lassen können.

Ich beruhigte mich genug, um fortzufahren. „Papa war ein wundervoller Vater. Er tat sein Bestes, um mich und meine Schwestern aufzuziehen. Aber dass Mama ihn verlassen hatte, verletzte ihn zutiefst. Verletzte uns alle zutiefst. Er lächelte kaum noch und traf sich auch kaum noch mit Frauen. Ich vermute, dass er so gut wie kein Vertrauen mehr hatte. Mama hatte noch nicht einmal irgendwem gesagt, dass sie gehen würde, sie packte einfach ihren Koffer und hinterließ nur eine Nachricht. Papa hat sie mir gezeigt, als ich älter war. Sie hatte geschrieben, dass sie mit ihrer Familie nicht glücklich war. Sie wollte Spaß haben und ausgehen. Sie wollte wilden Sex genießen. Sie schrieb, dass ich und meine Schwestern sie daran hinderten.“

Die Tränen flossen jetzt. Selbst nach all diesen Jahren tat es noch weh. Welche Mutter lässt ihre Kinder zurück, um Spaß zu haben! Und nicht einmal in den dreizehn Jahren, die vergangen waren, hatte diese Hure es auch nur für nötig gehalten, eine Geburtstagskarte zu schreiben. Papa sagte mir, dass sie noch nicht einmal die Scheidung eingereicht hätte. Sie hatte einfach ihr Elternrecht abgegeben, damit sie mit diesem Musiker herumhuren konnte.

Natürlich bin ich genauso eine Hure. Ich hatte Mike betrogen und dann hatte ich ihn fallen lassen. Ich schluchzte, als ich erkannte, dass ich genauso war wie meine Mutter. Wie hatte das nur passieren können? Oh Gott, wie konnte ich nur wie sie werden?

Marks Arm umschloss mich. Er zog mich an seine Brust. Seine Hände streichelten mein Haar sanft. Ich weinte so sehr, dass ich nicht merkte, dass er anhielt. Ich schaukelte mich in seinen Armen und flüsterte: „Es ist okay, ich werde dich nicht verlassen. Schsch!“

„Das ist es doch gar nicht!“ schluchzte ich. Ich hatte plötzlich Schluckauf. „Ich bin… hick… wie meine Mutter! Ich bin genauso… hick… schlecht! Ich bin eine… hick… Hure!“

„Nein, das bist du nicht“, flüsterte Mark und küsste meine Stirn. „Du bist ein Engel und keine Hure. Du bist doch nicht mit Mike verheiratet. Ihr geht doch nur miteinander. Ihr hattet keine Kinder. Du hast nicht deine Familie verlassen, um Spaß zu haben.“ Ich nickte und schluckte wieder. Meine Tränen versiegten und ich schniefte laut. Ich rieb mir die Augen und wischte meine Tränen weg.

„Und dein Vater hat deine Mutter nie schlecht behandelt, oder?“ fragte Mark. „Er hat sich nie wie ein Arschloch ihr gegenüber benommen, so wie das Mike mit dir gemacht hat?“ Papa war immer nett zu Mama gewesen. Sie hatten sich noch nicht einmal gestritten. Ich hatte angenommen, dass sie ineinander verliebt waren. „Nein. Papa liebte sie. Wir haben sie immer wieder beim Küssen erwischt.“

„Hat Mike dich jemals geliebt?“ fragte Mark. „Oder schlief er einfach nur gerne mit dir?“

Ich dachte darüber nach. Mike war immer wegen Sex hinter mir her, aber wenn es darum ging, mal wegzugehen oder einfach nur Zeit mit mir zu verbringen, dann musste ich ihn immer überreden. Und ich hatte niemals auch nur halb so intensive Gefühle für Mike wie ich sie für Mark hatte. Er war eine Kerze im Vergleich zu dem Freudenfeuer, das Mark für mich war. Ich erkannte, dass das, was Mike und mich verbunden hatte, einfach nur Teenager-Lust gewesen war. Mark hatte recht. Ich lächelte erleichtert. Gottseidank, ich war doch nicht wie meine Mutter!

„Danke“, flüsterte ich. Mark küsste meine Wange und er musste dabei das Salz meiner Tränen geschmeckt haben. Dann küsste er meinen Hals und knabberte und saugte. Wahrscheinlich hinterließ er einen weiteren Knutschfleck, der zu dem passte, den er mir vorher schon verpasst hatte. Dann klickte es plötzlich und der Sicherheitsgurt wurde gelöst. Ich sah verwirrt, wie Mark sich in seinem Sitz nach hinten lehnte und seinen harten Schwanz herausholte. Dann verließ er den Standstreifen wieder und fädelte sich in den Verkehr ein. Er wurde schneller. Er grinste mich an und ich leckte meine Lippen, weil ich erkannte, was Mark von mir wollte.

„Ich wollte schon immer mal meinen Schwanz gelutscht bekommen, wenn ich fahre“, beichtete Mark.

Mark war so nett zu mir gewesen, dass ich mehr als glücklich war, seine Fantasie zu erfüllen. Ich senkte mein Gesicht in seinen Schoß und saugte die rosafarbene Eichel in meinen Mund. Ich fuhr an der pilzförmigen Struktur mit meiner Zunge entlang. Ich spürte, wie die Eichel sich in meinem Mund aufblähte. Sein Schwanz schmeckte nach meiner Muschi, süß und würzig. Ein Pickup hupte, als er vorbeifuhr und ich wurde nass, weil ich wusste, dass er sehen konnte, wie ich Marks Schwanz lutschte. Ich rieb meine klebrigen Oberschenkel aneinander. Mark stöhnte und es machte mich glücklich zu wissen, dass er glücklich war. Ich entspannte meine Kehle und senkte meinen Mund ganz bis nach unten bis sein Schamhaar meine Lippen und meine Nase kitzelte. Ich erhob mich wieder und meine Lippen rutschten an seiner Kranzfurche vorbei. Meine Zunge spielte mit seinem Pissloch.

Ich saugte feste und Mark stöhnte: „Verdammt, ist das gut. Dein Mund ist fantastisch, Mare.“

Ich nahm ihn erneut in meine Kehle und dann fiel ich in einen langsamen Rhythmus. Ich kam hoch, spielte mit seiner Eichel und dann ging ich langsam wieder bis ganz nach unten. Dabei lutschte ich ihn hart. Ich fasste mit meiner Hand seine Eier an und spürte ihre runde Härte in seinem Sack. Seine Hand kam an meinen Hinterkopf und er fing an, mich fester auf und ab zu bewegen. Ich spürte, wie sich seine Eier in meiner Hand zusammenzogen. Ich wusste, dass es ihm gleich kommen würde. Ich zog meinen Mund nach oben, so dass nur noch seine Eichel in meinem Mund war.

„Hier kommt es, Mare!“ stöhnte er.

Sein Sperma war dickflüssig und salzig in meinem Mund. Ich schluckte so schnell ich konnte, aber es kam schneller als ich damit fertig wurde. Warmes Sperma entwich meinen Lippen. Das Auto schwenkte wild hin und her und ich biss ihm vor Überraschung beinahe in den Schwanz. Ich setzte mich auf und Sperma lief mir am Kinn herunter.

„Was ist passiert?“ fragte ich und wischte die weiße Masse mit meinen Fingern weg. Ich leckte sie ab.

„Hmmm?“ fragte er und kam langsam von seinem Orgasmus herunter. „Das war toll, aber wir sollten es wahrscheinlich nicht wieder tun.“

„Ich habe beinahe einen Unfall gebaut, als es mir gekommen ist.“

Ich kicherte. „Ja, vielleicht sollten wir das dann wirklich nicht wieder machen.“ Meine Muschi brannte immer noch und ich rieb meine Schenkel aneinander. Mein Kitzler rieb sich an meinem Höschen.

„Möchtest du auch kommen, Mare?“ Ich nickte. Mark fuhr jetzt von der Schnellstraße herunter. „Ich weiß genau, wie ich dich befriedigen kann.“

„Und wie?“ wollte ich neugierig wissen. Ich drückte meine Schenkel fest zusammen. Mark fuhr jetzt auf einen Parkplatz vor einem Geschäft. „Was machen wir?“

„Bitte verstehe das nicht falsch, aber ich mag es, wenn Muschis blank sind“, sagte Mark.

„Du willst, dass ich mich wachsen lasse?“ fragte ich und er nickte. Ich hatte mir einmal für Mike meine Muschi rasiert. Aber das war nicht so toll gewesen. Ich hatte furchtbare rote Stellen bekommen. Mike hatte mich wochenlang gebeten, sie wieder zu rasieren, aber das war eine so schlechte Erfahrung gewesen, dass ich es nie wieder gemacht hatte.

„Du kannst dir machen lassen was du möchtest. Ich möchte nur, dass deine Schamlippen weich und glatt sind“

Ich dachte einen Moment nach. Mark schien die Idee toll zu finden. Und ich wollte ihn glücklich machen. „Okay.“ Vielleicht war Wachs ja nicht so schlimm wie das Rasieren.

Wir gingen in den Salon. Es roch nach Nagellackentferner und Haarspray und ich fühlte mich ein wenig benommen. Eine gelangweilte Empfangsdame bat uns, uns anzumelden und zwei mittelalte Frauen lasen in Magazinen auf Polsterstühlen. Mark gab ein paar Kommandos an die Angestellten und die Besucherinnen. Nach ein paar Minuten stellten sich alle Mädchen, die in dem Laden arbeiteten vor uns auf. Die Kundinnen sahen zu. Hier arbeiteten einige wirklich süße Mädchen und meine Muschi wurde noch nasser als sie es sowieso schon war.

„Von welcher würdest du dir am liebsten die Muschi lecken lassen?“ fragte Mark mich. Ich glaube, dass es Mark wichtig war, dass ich diese Wachsbehandlung genoss.

Das war mir recht und ich grinste, während ich mir die Mädchen ansah. Die meisten waren aus Südostasien. Thais oder Vietnamesinnen. Ich ließ meinen Blick über die Mädchen wandern und wurde immer gieriger auf ihre hübschen Gesichter und die Kurven ihrer Körper. Ich leckte meine Lippen. Ich dachte über das große Mädchen mit dem rosafarbenen Haar und den großen Brüsten nach, die von innen gegen ihre Bluse drückten. Ihr Gesicht war rund und ihre Lippen waren üppig. Ein anderes Mädchen kombinierte satte Kurven mit einem temperamentvollen Lächeln. Aber das kleine vietnamesische Mädchen mit dem Puppengesicht und den schüchternen Augen setzte mich in Flammen. Sie trug eine unglaublich enge Jeans, die ihren Arsch einschloss und ganz tief auf ihren Hüften saß. Ein tiefgeschnittenes Top zeigte mir ein kleines Paar Brüste. Ich zeigte auf sie und Mark winkte sie heran.

„Wie heißt du?“ wollte er wissen.

„Joy“, antwortete das Mädchen. Ihre Stimme war wohltönend, wie bei einem Singvogel.

„Nun Joy, ich möchte, dass die Mary hier umsonst eine Wachsbehandlung ihrer Wahl gibst.“ Joy nickte zustimmend. „Und wenn du fertig bist, dann möchte ich, dass du ihre Muschi leckst, bis es ihr kommt.“

„Ja, Sir“, sagte Joy und wurde leicht rot.

„Warst du schon einmal mit einer Frau zusammen?“ fragte Mark sie. Sie schüttelte den Kopf. Ich kam beinahe von alleine in mein Höschen. Ich würde ihr die lesbische Jungfernschaft nehmen.

„Bitte alle mal herhören!“ sagte Mark laut. „Joy und Mary werden gleich Liebe machen und das ist völlig normal.“ Mark machte eine Pause dann grinste er jungenhaft. „Im Übrigen, liebe Stylistinnen, wenn ihr von einer Kundin gebeten werdet, an ihnen einen sexuellen Akt zu vollziehen, dann tut ihr das. Und ich möchte, dass ihr das genießt.“ Er drehte sich zu den Kundinnen. „Meine Damen, ich möchte, dass sie Spaß haben. Lassen sie sich von diesen Mädchen doch mindestens einmal fertig machen.“ Die Kundinnen, hauptsächlich mittelalte Frauen, allerdings war auch eine von etwa Mitte zwanzig darunter, schauten die Stylistinnen an. Die Stylistinnen kicherten und leckte ihre Lippen.

Mark drehte sich wieder zu Joy und gab den Befehl: „Du tust, was Mary dir sagt. Keine Fragen.“ Joy nickte.

Ich küsste Mark auf die Lippen. „Danke.“ Er war ein toller Freund und er verstand, dass ich Bedürfnisse hatte, die nur eine Frau stillen konnte.

„Viel Spaß“, sagte er mir. „Ich werde jetzt einen Camcorder besorgen. Ich bin bald zurück.“

„Wirst du nicht hierbleiben?“ fragte ich. „Hier sind doch eine Menge hübsche Mädchen.“ Ich stellte mir vor, wie Mark das Mädchen mit den rosafarbenen Haaren fickte, während Joy mir die Muschi leckte. Das war ein wirklich schönes Bild. Ich konnte sehen, wie er seinen Schwanz in ihre Muschi trieb und ihre Schamlippen dabei auseinander drückte. Ich konnte auch hören, wie sie stöhnte, während Marks Schwanz sie bis zum Anschlag ausfüllte.

Mark schaute auf die Stylistinnen und seufzte. „Es ist der Geruch. Das halte ich nicht aus. Davon wird mir leider übel.“

„Okay, Liebling.“ Ich küsste ihn. Und dann führte Joy mich in den Salon.

Meine Muschi brannte und in meinem Bauch rumorte es vor Aufregung, als ich Joy in ein kleines Zimmer folgte. In seiner Mitte stand eine gepolsterte Liege. An den Wänden hingen weiche weiße Handtücher. In der Ecke stand eine spanische Wand, hinter der man sich ausziehen konnte. An der gegenüber liegenden Wand war eine Arbeitsplatte mit einem Waschbecken und darunter waren Schubladen. Joy zündete ein Räucherstäbchen an, ich denke, es war Jasmin und die Luft wurde von einem süßen Aroma erfüllt. Dann bedeutete mir Joy, dass ich mich hinter der spanischen Wand ausziehen sollte. Stattdessen setzte ich mein sexiestes Grinsen auf und zog mir das Starbucks-Poloshirt über den Kopf und zeigte ihr meine Brüste.

„Miss, bitte, man zieht sich dort aus!“ keuchte Joy und drehte sich weg. „Wenn Sie ausgezogen sind, können Sie sich in ein Handtuch einwickeln.“ Sie ging zur Arbeitsplatte.

Joy fing an, an der Arbeitsplatte herumzukramen, sie öffnete Schubladen und holte ihr Werkzeug heraus. Ich streifte mir die Schuhe ab und zog mir meine weißen Socken aus. Und dann glitt meine Hose an meinen Beinen nach unten. Ich hakte meine Finger in das Bündchen meines Höschen und ließ es folgen. Mein rotbraunes Schamhaar war total versaut. Eine Mischung aus Marks trocknendem Sperma und meinem eigenen Saft. Ich nahm eine sexy Pose ein. Meine rechte Hand auf meiner Hüfte, meine linke am Kopf, die Beine leicht gebeugt und die Brust herausgedrückt.

„Fertig“, sagte ich. Joy drehte sich um und wurde rot. „Wie sehe ich aus?“

Joy sah mich schüchtern an. Dunkle Augen glitten über meinen Körper. „Sie sind sehr schön“, antwortete sie.

„Aber nicht scharf? Oder sexy?“ fragte ich. Ich freute mich darüber, dass sie mich schön fand, aber ich hoffte auf etwas Lust auf ihrer Seite.

„Tut mir leid, Miss“, sagte sie. „Ich bin nicht schwul.“

„Aber das wirst du sein, nachdem du mal meine Muschi geleckt hast“, schnurrte ich und sie wurde rot. Sie sah wieder auf den Boden. Ich leckte meine Lippen, sie war so anbetungswürdig. „Zieh du dich doch auch aus.“

„Bei uns behält die Stylistin ihre Sachen an“, erklärte mir Joy und zog sich ihr Top über den Kopf. Sie trug keinen BH und hatte kleine runde Brüste, kleiner als meine. Sie wurden gekrönt von olivfarbenen winzigen Nippeln. Joy erstarrte, als sie erkannte, was sie eben getan hatte. Dann bedeckte sie ihre wunderschönen Tittchen verlegen.

„Mach das nicht“, wandte ich ein. Marks Worte von vorher kamen mir ins Gedächtnis. „Diese Brüste sind wunderschön. Sie verdienen es, gesehen zu werden.“

Joy ließ ihre Hände fallen. Sie errötete. Dann schob sie ihre Sandalen weg und fing an, sich aus ihrer engen pinkfarbenen Hose zu schälen. Sie musste mit ihrem Hintern wackeln, damit sie sie nach unten schieben konnte. Darunter trug sie ein rotes Höschen aus Satin mit einem Rand aus schwarzer Spitze. Schließlich zog sie mit einer schnellen Bewegung ihr Höschen aus, gerade so als wollte sie das hinter sich bringen. Ich leckte anerkennend über meine Lippen, als ich ihren dicken Busch aus drahtigem schwarzem Haar sah, der ihre Muschi vollständig bedeckte.

Ich langte nach ihr und fuhr mit den Fingerspitzen über einen ihrer weichen Nippel. Sie wich ein wenig zurück, als ich die Warze so lange umfuhr, bis der Nippel hart war. Dann setzte ich mich lächelnd auf die Liege und spreizte meine Beine. Ich zeigte ihr die klebrige Masse, die daher rührte, dass Mark und ich vorher noch gefickt hatten.

„Ich glaube, ich muss erst noch sauber gemacht werden“, sagte ich.

Joy starrte ihr Arbeitsfeld an und nickte. Sie füllte einen kleinen Eimer mit warmem Wasser und fügte etwas Seife hinzu, die nach Kokosnuss duftete. Dann nahm sie einen großen weichen Schwamm und tauchte ihn in das Seifenwasser. Sie fing an, vorsichtig die Überreste unserer Paarung von meinem Oberschenkel abzuwaschen. Das Wasser war an meinem linken Schenkel schön warm. Langsam wusch sie bis zu meiner Muschi nach oben. Meine Zehen rollten sich vor Erwartung ein und ich seufzte, als sie vorsichtig anfing, meine Schamlippen zu säubern. Der Schwamm war nass und weich und gleichzeitig rau an meiner Muschi. Ich stöhnte, als sie damit über meinen Kitzler fuhr. Ich war noch sehr geil von dem Blowjob vorher und von Joys nacktem Körper, dass es nicht lange dauern würde, bis es mir kam. Dann nahm sie den Schwamm von meiner Muschi weg und wusch meinen rechten Schenkel und ich stöhnte enttäuscht.

„Hör nicht auf, meine Muschi zu reiben“, ordnete ich an. „Ich bin beinahe soweit!“

Joy kam mit dem Schwamm zurück und rieb ihn vorsichtig über meine Vulva und über meinen Kitzler. Elektrische Schläge durchliefen meinen Körper. Meine Augen genossen ihren nackten Körper und ich musste einfach ihre seidige Haut und ihre vollen Lippen berühren. Ich griff nach ihrer Schuler und zog sie an mich heran. Meine Lippen fanden ihre und ich küsste sie leidenschaftlich. Ich streichelte ihre Lippen mit meiner Zunge, bevor ich in ihren Mund eindrang. Meine andere Hand streckte sich aus und fand ihre Titte. Sie drückte die feste kleine Brust. Sie stöhnte in meinen Mund und dann drang ihre Zunge in meinen Mund ein. Sie fing an, fester zu reiben. Dabei konzentrierte sie sich auf meinen Kitzler. Meine Lust baute sich tief in mir immer weiter auf. Ich drückte ihren Nippel und stöhnte in ihren Mund, als es mir kam und ich den Schwamm mit meinem Saft benetzte.

Joy rieb immer weiter und der Schwamm drückte sich wundervoll an meinen Kitzler. Ich kam ein zweites Mal, härter als beim ersten. Mein ganzer Körper verkrampfte sich und ich fiel zurück auf den Tisch. Joy rieb immer noch weiter und fuhr mit dem Schwamm um meinen Kitzler herum. Ich kam ein drittes Mal und stöhnte leise. Ich wand mich auf dem Tisch und Lust erfüllte jede Faser meines Körpers.

„Oh Gott, Stopp!“ bat ich. Mein empfindlicher Kitzler brauchte eine Pause. „Bitte hör auf.“

„Äh… okay… äh“, stammelte Joy. Sie war atemlos und ihre Augen waren vor Lust geweitet. Sie hörte auf zu reiben und machte einen Schritt nach hinten. Ihr ganzer Körper war gerötet und ihr Schamhaar war mit ihrem Saft getränkt. „Legen Sie sich einfach nach hinten und ich… ja, ich werde dann anfangen, Sie zu wachsen.“

Ich fand die verwirrte Joy so süß! Sie drehte sich weg und ging zur Anrichte. Ich betrachtete ihren hübschen Arsch, während sie sich bewegte. An der Arbeitsplatte goss sie eine orangefarbene sirupartige Flüssigkeit in eine Schüssel und nahm einen Applikator. “Ist das Ihre erste Wachsbehandlung?“ fragte sie. Sie gewann in ihrer Arbeit ihre Fassung wieder zurück.

„Ja“, antwortete ich. Es war es an mir, mich nervös zu fühlen, als sie die Sachen auf einen kleinen fahrbaren Tisch stellte und ihn an die Liege rollte.

Sie setzte sich auf einen Stuhl und schlug die Beine übereinander. Sie sah absolut anbetungswürdig aus. An ihren Brüsten waren kleine Schweißperlen entstanden und ihre Beine waren lang und sexy und hatten schön geformte Waden. „Okay, welche Art möchten Sie denn gerne? Bikini, Brasilianisch oder Französisch?“

„Ich weiß nicht, wie man das nennt, aber ich möchte, dass meine Vulva ganz glatt ist und dass das Haar oberhalb wie ein Herz aussieht“, antwortete ich.

Joy nickte. „Okay Miss.“

„Ich heiße Mary“ sagte ich. „Ich denke, nachdem du mich fertig gemacht hast, können wir ruhig unsere Vornamen benutzen.“

Joy wurde rot und lächelte scheu. „Ok Mary. Ich werde jetzt das Wachs auftragen.“ Das orangefarbene Wachs wurde auf mein Schamhaar aufgetragen und ich kreischte überrascht auf. Es war kalt und klebrig. „Dieses Wachs ist ganz natürlich“, erklärte Joy. „Es besteht nur aus Wasser und Zucker und ein wenig Limone.“ Jetzt fing sie an, Stoffstreifen aufzulegen und formte dabei ein Herz. „Das wird jetzt wehtun, weil es das erste Mal ist. Bist du bereit?“

Ich nickte und sie riss. Es tat sehr weh, so ähnlich wie wenn man ein Pflaster abreißt, nur schlimmer. Ich stöhnte durch meine zusammengebissenen Zähne. Hoffentlich würde Mark das auch schätzen, was ich hier für ihn tat. Er müsste eigentlich sterben und in den Himmel auffahren, wenn er mich sah. Meine Vulva brannte. Ich keuchte vor Schmerz, als der zweite Stoffstreifen abgerissen wurde. Es war nicht ganz so schlimm wie beim ersten Mal und ich versuchte mich dadurch abzulenken, dass ich an Joys Lippen dachte, die an meinem Kitzler saugten und an meinen Schamlippen knabberten und an ihre Zunge, die sie mir tief in meine Muschi steckte. Bevor ich es richtig wusste, war Joy fertig. Sie nahm Aloe Vera in ihre Hände und fing an, die Lotion sanft in meine Vulva einzumassieren. Ihre sanfte Berührung stillte den Schmerz und erzeugte brennende Lust in mir.

Und dann leckte Joys Zunge an meiner Muschi und das Gefühl ihrer Zunge an meinen nackten Schamlippen war so intensiv. „Oh ja!“ stöhnte ich. Fahr mit deiner Zunge durch meinen Schlitz!“

Feine Finger spreizten meine Schamlippen und ich spürte, wie mein Saft herauslief. Er rann an meinem Arsch nach unten und sammelte sich in einer Pfütze auf der Liege. Ich wand mich vor Lust, als ihre Zunge in meine Muschi hinein glitt und die Innenseite berührte. Ich leckte meine Lippen und fing an, mit meinen harten Nippeln zu spielen. Ich zog daran und drehte sie. Damit verstärkte ich das Feuer noch, dass zwischen meinen Beinen brannte.

Ich wollte sie kosten, ihren Nektar trinken. Mit ihr die Lust teilen, die sie mir gab. „Komm rauf und… ahhh… hock dich auf mein Gesicht“, keuchte ich. „Ich will dich auch lecken.“

Joy nahm ihr Gesicht von meiner Muschi weg. Mein Saft war auf ihren Wangen und ihren Lippen. Sie lächelte mich voller Lust an. Schnell kletterte sie zu mir auf den Tisch und die pelzige Muschi senkte sich auf meine Lippen. Ihr drahtiges Haar kitzelte meine Nase und meine Wangen, als meine Zunge die warme Nässe ihrer verborgenen Muschi fand. Sie schmeckte gleichzeitig süß und würzig. Ihr Saft war dickflüssig. Meine Zunge drang tief in sie ein, als sie begann, vorsichtig an meinem Kitzler zu knabbern, während ihre Finger sanft meine Schamlippen streichelten. Ich stöhnte ihr in die Muschi und rieb ihr meine Nase durch den Schlitz. Dann fanden meine Lippen ihren Kitzler, der vorwitzig herausstand. Ich saugte kräftig. Joy stöhnte in mich hinein und ihre Zähne berührten leicht meinen Kitzler. Sie kratzte den empfindlichen Knopf und sorgte damit dafür, dass ich mich erneut vor Lust wand. Meine Hände griffen nach ihrem festen Arsch. Ich drückte ihre Arschbacken, während ich sie quasi auffraß und ihren köstlichen Nektar trank.

Und dann schoben sich langsam zwei Finger in mich. Sie bewegten sich und zogen sich dann genauso langsam wieder zurück. Joy fickte mich langsam mit den Fingern und trieb meine Lust langsam immer höher. Ich verstärkte meine eigenen Anstrengungen und leckte tief in ihrem Schlitz, während ich mit einer Hand nach unten ging, um ihren Kitzler in langsamen Kreisen zu reiben. Ihr Arsch spannte sich an und ihre Hüften bewegten sich über mir. Sie stöhnte gegen meinen Kitzler und ihre Lippen saugten so gut an diesem exquisiten Stückchen Fleisch. Ich schrie lautlos in ihre Muschi, als ich explodierte. Elektrizität durchlief meinen gesamten Körper. Joy stöhnte laut in meine Muschi und eine wahre Flut ihres Saftes ergoss sich in meinen Mund, als sie über mir zuckte und es ihr auch kam.

Einen Moment lang lagen wir einfach nur da mit den Gesichtern in jeweils der anderen Muschi. Wir atmeten unseren strengen Duft ein. Ich küsste ihr sanft die Muschi und schmeckte sie ein letztes Mal, bevor sich Joy erhob und umdrehte. Sie lächelte breit und ihr kleiner Busen wogte. Sie glitt mit ihrem schmalen Körper neben mich. Ihre harten Nippel rieb sich an meinem Bauch und dann hoch bis zu meinem Brustkorb. Ihr drahtiges Schamhaar kitzelte an meinen Oberschenkeln. Sie lächelte auf mich herunter. Ihr schwarzes Haar bedeckte uns beide. Dann beugte sie sich zu mir und küsste mich auf die Lippen. Meine Zunge fuhr an ihren roten Lippen entlang und ich schmeckte mich selber an ihrem Mund.

„Das war schön“, flüsterte sie und küsste mich erneut.

„Ich dachte, du wärest keine Lesbe?“

Ihre dunklen Augen starrten auf mich herunter und sie lächelte. „Deine Lippen waren sehr überzeugend.“

„Welche Lippen?“ fragte ich. „Die von meinem Mund oder die von meiner Muschi?“

„Beide“, antwortete sie heiser. Dann bedeckte sie meine Lippen mit einem weiteren Kuss. „und deine süße Stubsnase.“ Ihre Lippen küssten meine Nasenspitze. „Und deine Wangen mit den Sommersprossen.“ Feuchte Lippen liebkosten meine Wange und küssten sich bis zur Höhle an meinem Hals herunter. „Diese wunderschönen Smaragdaugen.“ Sie küsste mein Augenlid. „Und deine harten kleinen Nippel.“ Ich seufzte vor Lust, als sich ihre Lippen um meinen linken Nippel schlossen und saugten und knabberten.

Ich schloss meine Augen und genoss den Druck von Joys Lippen auf meinen Nippeln. Ich schlang meine Arme um ihren geschmeidigen Körper und fuhr die Linie von ihrem Hals bis zu ihrer Taille nach. Joy leckte sich zu meiner Brust hoch und dann bis zu meinem Hals und zu meinem Ohr. Ihre nasse Zunge schickte kleine elektrische Schläge durch meinen Körper. Sie verlagerte ihr Gewicht, als sie an meinem Ohrläppchen knabberte und ihr Schamhaar küsste meine weichen Schamlippen. Und dann spürte ich etwas Hartes an meinem Kitzler. Wir keuchten beide. Unsere Kitzler hatten sich geküsst und das war irre.

Joy bewegte wieder ihre Hüften und drückte unsere beiden Kitzler gegeneinander. „Oooohh, das fühlt sich toll an“, stöhnte Joy. Ihre dunklen Augen waren groß. Da hatte sie etwas Tolles entdeckte. Ich verlor mich in den Tiefen ihrer dunklen Augen.

Sie fing an, ihre Hüften langsam kreisen zu lassen. Vorsichtig rieben sich unsere Kitzler aneinander. Jedes Mal schoss Lust durch meinen Körper. Ich hatte keine Ahnung, wie man das nannte. Bei allem, was ich bisher über lesbischen Sex gehört hatte, war es darum gegangen, eine Möse zu lecken oder einen Dildo zu benutzen. Von diesen Kitzler-Küssen hatte ich noch nie etwas gehört. Ich rutschte mit meiner Hand nach unten und fasste ihren kleinen Arsch an. Ich spürte, wie sich ihre Muskeln unter der Haut rhythmisch anspannten. Ich schlang mein Bein über sie und bewegte meine Hüften in ihrem Rhythmus. Ihr harter Kitzler fuhr immer wieder durch meine Schamlippen und berührte dann meinen. Und dann glitt mein Kitzler durch ihre Schamlippen. Immer wieder. Jeder Kuss unserer Kitzler brachte mich näher an den süßen Moment eines weiteren Orgasmus heran.

Ich zog ihr Gesicht nach unten und küsste sie leidenschaftlich. Ich stöhnte in ihren Mund. Unsere Nippel rieben sich aneinander, die harten Knöpfe küssten sich ebenso wie unsere Münder. Eine starke Intensität baute sich zwischen uns auf. Joy beendete den Kuss, starrte mir tief in die Augen und wir stöhnten und keuchten. Mein Herz schlug wie wild in meiner Brust und warme Gefühle flossen durch mich hindurch. Joy stöhnte leise meinen Namen und ihre Hüften bewegten sich nun schneller. Sie musste so nahe dran sein wie ich auch.

„Oh verdammt!“ keuchte ich. Meine Finger gruben sich in ihren Arsch. „Fester! Schneller!“

„Süße, süße Mary“, stöhnte Joy. „Deine Muschi fühlt sich so gut an! Oh verdammt. Ich komme! Oh Gott, ich komme!“

Ihr Körper wand sich auf mir. Ihre harten Nippel rieben sich gegen meine und sie drückte ihren Kitzler ganz fest gegen meinen. Mein Körper spannte sich, als ich mich meinem eigenen Orgasmus näherte und ich schloss meine Beine um Joys Schenkel. Ich hing ganz dicht an ihr, als die Lust meines Orgasmus mich durchlief. „Oh Joy, mir kommt es auch!“ rief ich.

Wir lagen auf dem Tisch und genossen die Nachwehen unserer Orgasmen. Sanft küssten wir uns, bis Joy zögerlich vom Tisch stieg. Sie lächelte mich an und fing an, ihre Kleidungsstücke zu sammeln. Ich schaute auf ihren Hintern, als sie sich bückte und erwischte einen kurzen Blick auf ihr schwarzes feuchtes Schamhaar.

Joy kicherte und rieb sich ihren Arsch. Sie fand ihr Satinhöschen und zog es an ihren schlanken Beinen nach oben.

Ich stand auf und bewunderte mein Spiegelbild in dem bodenlangen Spiegel neben dem Bett. Mein blasser Körper war schweißgebadet und loses rotbraunes Haar hing mir ins Gesicht. Meine mit Sommersprossen bedeckten Brüste wogten und meine kleinen dunklen Nippel waren harte kleine Knöpfchen. Ich ließ meinen Blick zu meinem flachen Bauch herunter wandern und zu meinem süßen kleinen Bauchnabel. Und dann weiter zum feuerroten Herz meines Schamhaars. Unter dem Herz verschwand ein mädchenhafter Schlitz zwischen meinen Oberschenkeln. Ich sah scharf aus. Mark würde in seine Hose spritzen, wenn er meine Muschi sah.

„Du siehst echt sexy aus“, sagte Joy, die neben mir stand und mir mein Höschen gab. Ich lächelte sie an, weil ich die Antwort erhalten hatte, auf die ich vorher gewartet hatte. Dann küsste ich Joy.

Wir sammelten unsere Sachen. Dann tauschten wir unsere Telefonnummern aus. Schließlich schlangen sich Arme um unsere Hüften und wir verließen das Hinterzimmer und gingen in den vorderen Teil des Salons zurück. Was für ein Anblick! Die Kundinnen hatten sich Marks Anordnungen zu Herzen genommen. Die dicke Stylistin fickte den Griff einer Haarbürste in die Vagina einer der Frauen. Eine andere Kundin stöhnte, während eine Stylistin ihr die Muschi leckte und das Mädchen mit den rosa Haaren leckte ihr gleichzeitig den Arsch aus. Eine Stylistin leckte die Muschi einer Kundin, die in einem Friseurstuhl saß, während eine andere mit ihrer Kundin schmuste, die sie an die Wand gedrückt hatte. Die Kundin hatte ihre Hände in der Bluse der Stylistin und knetete ihre Titten durch.

Kichernd gingen Joy und ich durch den Salon und bewunderten die lesbische Orgie, die da stattfand. Wir kamen in den Wartebereich. Mark war noch nicht da und ich fragte mich, was er wohl für einen Spaß hatte. Ich konnte es kaum abwarten, ihm von Joy und mir zu erzählen und zu hören, was er erlebte hatte.

Joy küsste mich ein letztes Mal. „Ich hoffe, du kommst irgendwann einmal wieder.“

Ich schmatzte auf ihre Lippen. „Da kannst du absolut sicher sein!“
To be continue …

Click here for Kapitel 3

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The Devil’s Pact Chapter 37: Mary Magdalene

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Chapter 37: Mary Magdalene

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2013, 2014


Story Codes: Male/Female, Female/Female, Female/Teen female, Mind Control, Magic, Rape, Sadism, Humiliation, Violence, Murder, Male Domination

For a list of all the Devil’s Pact Chapters and other stories click here

Comments are very welcome. I would like all criticism, positive and negative, so long as its
constructive, and feedback is very appreciated. To contact me, you can leave a comment or email me at mypenname3000@mypenname3000.com, and you can contact my editor by email at dionysus40@prodigy.net.



Click here for Chapter 36.



Violet Matheson – Tacoma, WA

“Leah, Violet, and Desiree, scatter!” Master shouted. “They’re after me, you might get away!”

I looked one last time at Master, drinking in his form, then turned and ran as fast as I could from the wreckage. My heart thudded in terror. Behind me, gunfire erupted and I shrieked loudly. Please be okay, Master! Please! I pumped my legs as hard as I could, my lungs burning with exertion. I had never run so fast, so hard in my life.

But I couldn’t keep it up. After running six blocks my legs felt like solid lead and my sides ached. I just had to stop, bending over to grab my knees while I tried to catch my breath. Sweat poured off my forehead, stinging my eyes; I wiped it away with the back of my hand.

“We have to keep moving, Violet!” Desiree panted. I jumped, glancing behind me. I didn’t even realize that my slut-sister had been running with me. “They’re coming!”

I glanced behind me and saw soldiers in brown camo running down the street. They were still two blocks away and covering the ground fast. We were in a residential neighborhood; old houses, most looking run down, crowded the street while the residents stood on their porches watching both us and the soldiers in confused amusement.

“There!” Desiree pointed at a barely-paved alleyway and took off sprinting.

Fear gave me a second wind and I chased after her. She crashed through a gate in a chain-link fence, the metal rattling, and I was right on her tail. We ran down the side of a house and came out on the next street up. There was a loud, crashing sound of metal splintering wood off in the distance where Master was.

Stay safe, Master, I prayed. Please stay safe!

We cut across the street into another yard, through a gate in the picket fence, the white paint peeling, exposing grayish wood. Running down the side of the house into the backyard, my sides were killing me and I felt like throwing up. My thin top was wet with sweat, sticking to my boobs. Desiree marched up to a clothesline and ripped down a dress.

“We need to change,” Desiree panted, her nut-brown skin flushed with exertion. “We stand out too much dressed like this.”

I flushed; the tube-top I was wearing was so tight, it was practically a second skin, and my sweat made the red material slightly transparent exposing my nipples and areolas completely. I took the dress from Desiree and pulled it over my head. It was too big for me, the skirt fell down way past my knees. I felt like I wore a tent it was so loose and baggy, so unlike the tight clothes I had grown used to wearing since I met Master.

There was a crashing sound and I turned to see two soldiers walking down the side of the house, aiming their big rifles. Desiree froze for a moment, a second dress in her hand. She glance once at me, smiled, then took off running towards the other side of the house, shouting loudly. The soldiers cursed and chased after her, leaving me frozen in the backyard.

You need to move, Violet. She drew them off so you could escape. So keep moving! Find someplace to hide. There was a back gate that led out into another alley. I ran through it, and looked around the alley, trying to regain my breath. I heard booted footsteps and ducked behind an olive-green, plastic trashcan, trembling as I hid. I curled up into a ball, sobbing silently. My muscles were cramping and I started to shake.

This could not be happening. This was worse then when the SWAT team attacked us last June. I just wanted to stay where I was, hiding behind the trashcan. I didn’t ever want to leave. I didn’t care that it smelled bad, or that the gravel was sharp and poked my side. It was safe. I was safe. Please, please don’t find me!

“Save me, Master,” I whispered, clutching at the choker about my neck. “Please come save me, Master.”

Gravel crunched and I jumped. Someone was approaching. I curled up as tight as I could, taking only the shallowest of breaths. My heart was hammering loudly in my chest. They’re going to hear my heart thundering away, I realized with fear. It’s so loud. Fresh terror surged through me, driving my heart to beat louder and louder. Please stop beating so loud! But my heart ignored me and kept hammering away.

The footsteps drew closer; I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t want to see what was coming. More gravel scraped and crunched as they drew closer; the soldiers were almost to my hiding spot. I’m going to get captured. My heart was beating so hard I thought it was going to burst right out of my chest. The crunching footsteps were right next to me. I was found, they had caught me. I tensed, waiting for the blow to be struck, the bullet to be fired.

Instead it was the lightest of touch.

Cautiously, I cracked my eyes open to see a young woman smiling down at me with warm, blue eyes and a friendly smile. She held out her hand and relief flooded through me. I wasn’t caught. I hesitantly uncurled, grasped her hand, and she gently helped me to my feet. I hugged her gratefully, tears running down my face. I wasn’t caught!

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I whispered over and over.

She just held me for a moment, not answering, then led me into her house.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mary Glassner – Osage Field, Kansas

I sat facing Sam across the hole, the September sun warm on my back as it sank towards the western horizon.

The hole was a few feet deep, dug by Duncan and the other former SWAT officers. We were in a grassy field next to one of the runways at Osage Field, the decommissioned Cold War airbase in the middle of nowhere, Kansas, that Mark and I had purchased. It was our bolthole. Nearby was a Missile Silo, also shut down, converted into a survival bunker. We staffed the airfield with volunteers bound to us with the Zimmah spell: the SWAT Officers who survived the attack last June, their wives and girlfriends, and the Blackwoods. It was nice seeing Belinda and her teenage daughter Cassie again, and I remembered all the fun I had with Mark’s jogging sluts last June. Along with Belinda’s husband Oscar, the Blackwoods took care of the actual Missile Silo, while the SWAT Officers and their families took care of the airfield and provided security.

All our friends and family paced around the hole or stood in worried knots. Mark’s mother and sister looked sick with worry and the sluts all clung around Alison, encouraging the girl that Desiree was safe and she would be reunited with her wife. I saw Rachel and Jacob, our accountants, holding each other. Their wife Leah is our chauffeur and was with Mark when the attack happened. Images of our dead bodyguards were being shown on the news, along with Mark’s beating. But there was no news on Leah or Violet. I hoped that meant they escaped, but I feared that they were dead.

“Are we ready,” I demanded impatiently of Sam. Every minute we delayed was another minute that my husband was getting beaten.

“Yes,” Sam answered. “Light it.”

The hole was piled with brush and soaked in gasoline. Duncan lit a rag and tossed it into the pit. The fire had a greasy smell, and a sickly, black smoke that burned my eyes rose up into the sky. Sam closed her eyes, breathing deeply. Her plaything, Candy, sat next to her, holding Sam’s olive hand. Sam was our Vizier. She understood all the magic better than anyone, even inventing a few spells and charms all on her own.

I had a plan. I was going to take a Nun’s powers and exorcise Brandon. He wanted me. All of his broadcasts contained his threat to beat Mark until I turned myself in. He wanted to make me his slut, just like Mark had made his wife Desiree our slut. All I had to do was submit to his lusts and exorcise him, and then this would all be over.

But I needed to know one important fact—if Brandon had a sister, he could perform the Mowdah spell and be able to recognize my new aura. Right now my aura was red, a Warlock’s aura, but after I steal the Nun’s Gift of the Spirit, my aura would turn bronze. Just like Mark’s had; the aura of a Shaman. The Magicks of the Witch of Endor spoke at great length on aura colors, including the Shaman’s. I needed confirmation that my plan would work.

I needed necromancy.

“Spirits of the dead, I beseech you,” Sam shouted out, holding her arms above the fire as she began the Naba ritual. It was supposed to be very dangerous. If you conjured the wrong spirit, one filled with violence or hatred, it could lash out and hurt the summoner, and since your life-force sustained the summoning, it placed a great strain on you. If you maintained it too long, you could even die. “Appear before me. Rise once more from the grave and clothe yourself in smoke and fire and give us your counsel!”

The ground groaned in pain and the fire surged upward with a screaming roar. The heat was so intense that it caused me to wince and slam my eyes shut in pain. My skin felt like it was about to blacken beneath the roaring inferno Sam conjured, and my heart hammered in fear. Something had gone wrong, Sam had messed up and unleashed an inferno that is consuming us. Then there was a great, moaning whoosh and the heat vanished.

Everything went still, quiet. Deathly.

The sun no longer felt warm on my back; I felt a growing chill that seemed to seep up from the hole. Cold, clammy air caressed my naked body. I shivered, opening my eyes, to see a figure coalescing out of the thick, black smoke rising up from the depths of the earth. From the depths of Hell.

The smoke was swirling towards the coalescing shape, thickening it. A torso grew, sprouting arms and legs like tendrils from a vine. A dome appeared, swelling up into a head. The smoke kept swirling in and the billowy figure grew more and more solid. The lines of a body started to appear, legs grew firm and slim, hips narrowed, and the hint of a bosom formed. Wispy hair sprouted curly from the head and the features of the face grew more defined, a doll’s face with plump lips.

My heart froze, I knew that face.

My eyes watered in grief as Karen spoke, “Hello, Mistress.” Her voice was soft, distant. Ethereal. It was like she was shouting from a thousand miles away, a million miles. Farther away than the Moon, the Sun, all the stars in the heavens. It seemed that all of existence lay between us, a vast gulf that her voice was somehow just able to cross.

“Karen,” my voice broke; tears rolled wet down my cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Karen.”

“Don’t be, Mistress,” Karen whispered. “It was not your fault. That vile creature tricked you.”

“Are you in pain? Does it hurt where you are?”

She smiled softly. “No, Mistress. Chasity and the others wait with me.”

“What are you waiting for?”

“Why for you and Master, of course. Even in death, we are yours. Always yours.” Her gray, smokey hand reached out and cupped my face, wiping at my tears. “Master needs you. So how can I help?”

“Does Brandon Fitzsimmons have a sister?”

“No, just a brother,” Karen answered.

Relief flooded through me. This was going to work! “Is the Mother Superior at Rennes-le-Château?”

“She is, Mistress,” Karen answered. “Alone and waiting for you.”

My heart skipped a beat. “She’s waiting for me?”

“For two thousand years she has waited for you, Mistress,” Karen paused. “Momentous things are happening. Lucifer has driven his enemies from the field and now he waits as his prison crumbles about him. Dark days lie ahead of you.”

“I don’t care, I just need to save Mark!” I cried.

“Sam is nearing the limits of her strength. Ask quickly!” Karen urged.

“Is there anything else I need to know?” I asked. “Something I haven’t thought of?”

“Brandon has…” Sam screamed, loud and sudden, drowned out Karen’s words. “…other.”

“What did you say?” I asked as the smoke started to drift apart, the form vanishing into a billowing cloud that rose up to the heavens.

Karen was gone.

Sam collapsed on the ground, twitching, blood trickling from her nose. I should be concerned for her, but all I could think about were Karen’s words. Brandon has what? An other? That didn’t make sense. A mother, maybe? He somehow found the way to bind anyone that heard him speak with the Zimmah spell. Maybe it involved his mother somehow. A male Warlock needs to use his mother to bind someone. I frowned. No, that could not be right? His mother was dead. Our investigation into Brandon revealed that. It’s why we didn’t think of him as a threat.

“Ma’am, the plane is fueled,” Lynda, one of our pilots, said.

“Let’s go,” I said, pushing aside those questions. Mark was in too much danger to waste a second.

My mom caught my arm as I walked by. “She’s a legend, the Mother Superior. You heard Karen, she’s waiting for you. Don’t do this.”

“I have to, Mom,” I said, shaking my arm from hers. “There is no other choice.”

“Please, Mary,” my mom begged.

I hugged her. “It will be okay. She’s alone. I will have thirty armed men and women with me. I will be perfectly safe. I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, sweetheart,” Mom whispered and kissed my cheek.

Dad gave me a hug and kissed me on my forehead. “You can do it, Mary. I know you can. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, Dad,” I whispered, fighting back tears.

Sam was standing up, looking shaky, as Candy held a cloth to her bleeding nose. For a moment I thought I saw anger in Candy’s eyes as she helped Sam. I was about to say something when Missy ran up and hugged me fiercely. “Good luck, sis!” she said and kissed me on the lips.

“You watch out for Mom and Dad,” I told her and ruffled her strawberry-blonde hair. I glanced back at Candy and I only saw concern for Sam on her face. Did I even see any anger?

“You can count on me, Mary!” Missy exclaimed.

I walked to the 747. I planned on taking all twenty-one of the bodyguards and the nine SWAT officers. It would leave all my loved ones unprotected, but none of that mattered if I couldn’t save Mark in time. I took one last look at all our friends and family before the hatch was closed. I walked to my seat and strapped in. My thoughts were full of worry over what Karen had tried to tell me. I focused, trying to remember how her lips were moving, trying to figure out what Sam’s scream had drowned out.

I had a long flight to France to ponder it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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 Master’s brutal beating, I was taken to the showers in the 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 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. Master gave the distress call; Alison should be far away, safe wherever the bolthole was.

Safe with Mistress.

“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. As if he could even compare to Master, I thought with derision. 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 Mark’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 jewelry box that contained a pearl necklace and 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 hand 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 to let security gates be buzzed open. 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 cat-calls 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. I wondered what had happened to Brandon. I never loved him, 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 that 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. A small courtyard with a few basketball hoops, some metal tables lining the side. The both tables and 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 chilled in an ice bucket. A romantic dinner? A naked teen 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,” she replied. “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, and 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 Mary. Several military men – some sort of high-ranking officers judging by their age and bearing – followed on the heels of the naked women, and the last to enter was the mayor of Tacoma, Colton Bray, and his lovely Korean wife, Yoon.

“My beautiful Desiree,” Brandon said warmly, walking up and hugging me; I stiffened in his arms. Brandon 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 to the seat, indicating that I should sit. I grit me 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 open the wine and poured two glasses, then she knelt with all the other naked women and looked adoringly up at Brandon. Not even Master made us fawn over him like this.

“No, I hate you for this,” I pointed around. “You attacked us. Your damn 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 looked so shocked; Mark did the same thing. He walked into our house and made you his whore.” Heat was rising 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 a 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, Master and Mistress 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. 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 and 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! Mistress 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 and 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. I kicked one in the face and she screamed in pain, 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, I’m not sure I’ll even feel your little rope in me!”

He knelt before me, 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 about 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 and everything went hazy for a moment. I shook my head 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 kept pumping 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 lunged my head and bit into his neck, hard. I tasted coppery blood and bit harder, driving my teeth deeper into his neck. He pulled away, roaring in pain.

“Goddamn fucking whore!” he shouted, his left hand clutching 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 hit the hard concrete and everything was fuzzy after that. I was barely aware of Brandon pumping away inside me. The world seemed to swim drunkenly about me. My head lolled to the side and I stared at the knees of one of the women holding me down, a gray pebble stuck to her leg. Then everything just faded away.

It was the pain that brought me back. My head was splitting and there was a burning pain down in my pussy. I could feel 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 realized. I felt raw and sore inside and every thrust of his cock was agony.

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

I struggled to speak, but my head ached too much and then darkness fell on me again. I don’t think I was out long, Brandon was still pumping away inside me when I woke up the second time. His face contorted in pleasure and 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 seemed distant 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,” Brandon said with a shake of his head. He bent down and muttered a word and 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 Brandon healed me. “Stand up, Desiree, I want you to see something.”

I felt dirty as I stood up, Brandon’s cum leaking out of my pussy. I wanted to throw-up, to run and hide, but I wasn’t going to give my rapist any more satisfaction than I had to. Holding my head high, I followed Brandon out into the exercise yard. While I had been lying senseless, a large fire had been built in the center, lighting up the courtyard 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 and 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 preform tasks that will seem innocuous, at first, but will actually lead to your downfall. There are only two demons that 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 generals 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 in his chest, the blood blossoming red through his shirt. Then General Brooks shoved the Mayor and he fell into the fire. Yoon screamed and collapsed to her knees, crying as her husband was engulfed in the flames.

“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 and then the flames exploded upward, white hot and screaming. 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 sound of Damnation itself.

There was something moving in the flames. I flinched and stumbled back as a hulking figure stepped out. His skin was black as soot and covered in angry, red fissures that glowed with the being’s inner flames. His eyes were coals that burned with hatred, and the air danced and shimmered about him and smoke poured out of his nostrils and mouth. The fire abruptly died down and the terrible screaming stopped. The figure surveyed the crowed 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 was 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, peering into me, into my soul, leaving me feeling used. Soiled worse even 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 and 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, heaving violently. 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 embrace.”

I shuddered in fear, looking up at Brandon.

He was younger now, I realized, 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 was hardening; Yoon still screaming in the background.

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

Yoon’s screams sent ice pumping through my veins. 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 grabbed his cock, opened my mouth, and sucked it inside. I tried to look happy on the outside. 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.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leah Hirsch-Goldstein-Blum – Tacoma, WA

I was alone after Mark told us to run and I hid beneath a rusty pickup truck. I was too frightened to move. Not even hunger, thirst, or my increasingly full bladder was strong enough to overcome my terror. It was after dark when they finally captured me. The soldiers ripped my bloody clothes off, laughing as they groped my breasts and ass. Then I was thrown into the back of an army truck with other naked, frightened women.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“They say we’re being taken to the God,” a woman whispered in a hushed voice, an awed voice. “If we’re lucky, he’ll choose us for his harem.”

What happened if we weren’t lucky? I swallowed the question, not sure I wanted to know the answer. “I can’t be in his harem. I’m married!” Jacob and Rachel must be worried sick about me. I desperately wanted to see my wife and husband again.

“They shot my husband,” another woman sobbed. “He tried to stop them from taking me and…”

I hugged the crying woman. “Shh, everything will be alright,” I said. What else was I supposed to say? “I’m Leah.”

“Beatrice,” the woman sobbed.

I held her as the truck drove slowly through the city. A few more women and teenage girls were loaded into the back, all naked and shivering in fear. They were all pretty. Soon, we were pulling up at the Courthouse and the soldiers herded us out.

“Nice ass,” one said, giving mine a squeeze. I shuddered as his dirty fingers pawed me. “If you’re not chosen for the Harem, I’m gonna requisition you for myself.”

I shuddered in disgust. Other soldiers were molesting the women as they lined us up. I held Beatrice’s hand as we were marched into the jail. We had to navigate the corridors and pass through a half-dozen locked gates before we reached the exercise yard. It was full of nude women. There was a young man, naked, getting his cock sucked by a Latina woman and eying us as we were marched before him.

“You can stop, Desiree,” the man ordered.

I was surprised to see Desiree, her cheeks stained with tears, releasing his cock. She looked down at the ground the whole time, her eyes dead, as the man began to examine us carefully, grinning like a hungry wolf. Desiree looked so defeated. I had never seen the vivacious woman look so meek and scared. What had they done to her? I swallowed in fear, glancing at the man. He must be the one who attacked us.

“I am your God, Brandon,” he declared. “Worship me.”

All the women, Beatrice included, changed. He’s like Mark and Mary, I realized. A God. I was unaffected because Mark had gifted me with protection. The women were falling to their knees, crying out in awe at Brandon. I fell to my knees, and tried to sound like them. I couldn’t let Brandon know I wasn’t under his control.

He tapped three women on the shoulder. “You are my concubines. You love me and will do anything to make me happy. The rest of you, go wait in the exercise yard,” he said dismissively.

Neither Beatrice or I were chosen, and we were herded into the yard with the other women. They all looked fearful, glancing at a bonfire that slowly died down. Brandon gathered his concubines and Desiree, and left. I saw 51 and 27, two of the bodyguards, and moved towards them.

There was a blood-curdling scream from inside the prison. “What was that?” I asked one of the bodyguards.

51 just shook her head, a look of numb horror on her face. Dried blood streaked from a gash along her forehead.

“El Diablo,” 27 hissed in terror, her Latina face contorted in fear. She was a former LAPD officer, I vaguely recalled. One of the women who volunteered to join the bodyguard. “He comes. Chooses.”

“Chooses what?” Beatrice asked.

27 motioned at all of the women trapped in the exercise yard.

It wasn’t long before el Diablo came. I screamed in terror when I saw him. He was a hulking figure, skin black and cracked with glowing red, like cooling lava. The air stank of sulfur. All the women in the courtyard screamed in panic and shrank away from his gaze. I pressed back, fighting to get as far away from the monstrosity as I could.

“Save me!” I prayed loudly to my Living Gods, Mark and Mary. “Please, please come save your faithful servant! Deliver me from this abomination!”

A new scream, full of pain, rang out. The monster had found his sacrifice. His black fist was around the slim arm of a young, blonde girl. The demon mercilessly dragged her off, back into the prison. Relief flooded me. But it didn’t last long. After a half-hour, the demon, Molech, returned. Every thirty minutes, a new woman was selected and we all endured her screams, trembling in terror. By midnight I was numb. I didn’t care about anything. So long as I wasn’t chosen.

When the soldier grabbed me and led me off, I was relieved. It didn’t matter to me that he was going to rape me. I was getting out of the exercise yard; I was getting away from Molech. Three soldiers used me for an hour. I tried to be the best whore for them I could, putting all my years of partying to good use. I forced down the guilt of betraying Jacob and Rachel as I begged the men to fuck me harder and pretended to coo in pleasure as their cocks raped my holes.

I just couldn’t go back to the exercise yard. To Molech. I realized I would do anything to stay away.

When the soldiers were done with me, however, they dragged me kicking and screaming back to the yard, pushing me into the crowd. Sunday’s dawn was pinking the horizon. Maybe Molech was afraid of the sun. Maybe he wouldn’t come. That delusion quickly fled my mind, driven off by mind-numbing terror, as he stalked like an earthquake out of the prison. When he dragged off his newest victim, all I felt was relief. I wasn’t chosen.

Yet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lana Paquet-Holub – Seattle, WA

“Lana, bring me the twins,” Lilith commanded.

“Yes, my Goddess,” I answered, standing up.

For hours, Lilith has been brooding in her chambers, ever since Brandon’s dramatic attack on Mark and his occupation of Tacoma. Brandon had, in a single day, brought the entire United States to its knees. Only a few hours ago, the President himself had knelt and paid homage to Brandon, surrendering the Country to him.

All of our careful maneuverings in Seattle would be for naught with this new, and unanticipated, player. We had the Mayor under the control of Lilith’s daughter Lamia. And Ziki, another daughter, had assumed the form of Nate Kirkpatrick and slowly hired Lilith’s followers to key positions within the city’s government. We were so close to taking over the city and establishing Lilith’s rule.

So close.

And then this damned Brandon Fitzsimmons had to go and ruin it all!

Lilith must have a plan to stop him, I thought, as I threaded my way through the warehouse. It was owned by the City of Seattle and not currently in use. With the Mayor in our power, we quietly occupied it, moving Lilith’s Children and her pregnant followers here. Babylon’s house had quickly grown too crowded.

As I walked past the women they all bowed to me. Some were pregnant, while others had already birthed Lilith’s children. The children all stood out from us regular humans in some way—unusual colorings, abnormal heights, or strange features that made them look slightly different. My daughter, Cora, was a Manticore. She was big and had leonine features. Lamia, Chantelle’s daughter, had purple hair. Others stood out even more. Ziki, who masqueraded as Nate Kirkpatrick, was a freakish albino in her natural form.

And the twins were the strangest of all of Lilith’s children.

I found them with their mother, a recovering heroin addict named Andi. The twins were pale girls, their hair pure white and they lacked any pigment in their eyes. They were born yesterday, and would reach their maturity by tomorrow evening. When I entered the room, the twins jumped in surprise. One vanished completely, the other became translucent; I shuddered in discomfort as I could see straight through her.

They were both Dimme, more spirits than creatures of flesh. When they were translucent or invisible they could pass through solid objects. Lilith was ecstatic when they were born. “Dimme are assassins,” Lilith had purred when she saw the twins, “capable of penetrating an enemy’s defenses and killing their target with a single touch.”

They could only kill when they were solid. When they were vulnerable.

Most of Lilith’s children were immune to normal weapons. Only enchanted weapons or cold iron could hurt them. But a few, like the Dimme, were more vulnerable. As long as a Dimme remained translucent or invisible, she could not be harmed by anything. However, she could not affect anything, either. To kill, she had to become solid and leave herself vulnerable to any weapon.

“Di, Emi,” I said, holding out my hand. “Your Mother wishes to see you.” One of them reappeared, Emi I think, and Di became solid. They both gripped my hand, hesitantly, and I smiled shyly at them.

“Mother needs us?” Emi asked.

I nodded. “Come on.”

Both girls smiled and looked almost cute. Almost.

Lilith was waiting in her chambers, the former warehouse manager’s office. It was richly appointed. Persian rugs covered the floor, silk tapestries hung on the walls, and scented candles, held in gold sconces, lit the room, filling the air with sweet jasmine and spicy cinnamon. Lilith sat at her richly carved, mahogany desk and smiled happily when we walked in. She stood up from the desk and knelt down, her arms outstretched.

Emi and Di ran to her, laughing as their mother scooped them up in her arms. “Ohh, you two are growing up so fast,” Lilith praised, then kissed them both on their foreheads. “And so beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you, Mother,” Di politely said.

“No,” Lilith answered with a vain smile. “But then no-one is.” Lilith set her daughters down. “You two will be fully grown by tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, Mother,” Emi nodded. “By Sunday night.”

Lilith smiled broadly. “Good.” Lilith conjured the images of Brandon Fitzsimmons and Mark Glassner. Well, I thought it was Brandon she conjured. He looked younger and slimmer than he appeared on TV, with a full head of hair. Perhaps he cast a spell? Or did he make a deal with some demon? “Sunday night, when you are fully grown, you are to go south to Tacoma and kill these two men,” Lilith instructed her daughters.

Di and Emi both smiled. I suppressed a shudder. They were hungry, disturbing smiles. “Of course, Mother.”

Lilith spread out some maps and we began to plan the twins’ infiltration.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mark Glassner – Tacoma, WA

“No, no!” Mary shrieked. “Mark, please! Help me!”

I strained against the chains, struggling to break the iron links, ignoring the pain in my bruised muscles and the bite of the manacles into the skin of my wrists. I screamed wordlessly in fear and rage. My tongue was gone; cut out on Brandon’s orders. And with my tongue gone, so went all my power. I couldn’t command people, I couldn’t cast any spells.

My tongue was my power.

Brandon ripped Mary’s dress, exposing her freckled breasts. A look of hunger crossed the fat man’s face. Mary had come to rescue me, and had failed. She turned to run and Brandon caught her by her long, auburn ponytail and yanked her back.

“No, no!” she cried out. “Mark, please! You have to save me! Please, please!”

Brandon hauled her back, throwing her to the ground. He was on her faster than I thought the fat man could move, pinning her beneath his monstrous bulk. Mary’s cries and whimpers tore my heart apart as I wrenched at the chains, heaving with all my might. I had to save my wife. I poured every bit of strength I possessed, ignoring all the hurts and pain I felt. None of that mattered. If I had to rip my arm off to save my Mary, then so be it!

“Bease,” I cried, without a tongue the word sounding like mush, as I heaved at the chain.

I pulled and pulled, my body screaming in pain. But it wasn’t the chain that gave out first, it was my body. I slumped, panting loudly. I failed her. Tears rolled down my cheek as the fat man pumped away atop my wife. Mary’s screams were daggers in my soul.

I failed her!

“Mark,” the chiming, ethereal voice whispered. “Awaken.”

Everything seemed to dissolve and then blow away as the melodic voice rang out. Brandon, Mary, the chains holding me down; all swept away. Even the pain was gone. My awareness returned to me and I exhaled in relief. This was a nightmare. I was asleep on the hard cot back in the jail.

I remembered thinking of Azrael as I fell asleep. I wanted to summon the Angel of Death to my dreams. She was the only one who could teach me how to harness the power of the Gift Tiffany gave me.

I turned to see Azrael standing behind me. Her hair was red as blood, floating about her fierce face; her skin gleamed as bright as burnished bronze, and she was clad in a robe of the purest white. Concern painted her face; her scarlet eyes strangely soft.

“Hello, Mark,” she greeted tenderly.

“I am ready to learn.”

She nodded. “The Gift manifests differently between men and women. For you, it gives peak physical strength, endurance, and reflexes for a man of your size. You can take more injuries and still function. A man without the Gift surely would have died from the beating you sustained. Your powers are geared to fighting the supernatural. Your primary ability is the Chereb prayer.”

“Chereb,” I whispered and jumped in surprise, dropping the gold blade that appeared in my hand. The moment I released it, the blade vanished into a thousand tiny, golden motes.

“Chereb, as you have noticed, conjures a blade of Celestial Gold, the weapon of an Angel. Sharp as a razor, but only capable of harming spiritual bodies,” Azrael explained. “Angels, demons, spirits, monsters, homunculi.”

“And how will that help free me?” I demanded, angrily. “Hell, the son of a bitch ripped my tongue out. I can’t even summon the sword if I wanted to.”

“It won’t,” Azrael answered, a hint of steel chiming in her voice. “But, once you are free, you may need this. The second basic prayer is Choshen. This will gird you in Angelic Armor, which is proof against most spiritual attacks. But it is not invulnerable. It also serves well against mundane attacks.”

I was growing more and more impatient. “Teach me something useful, dammit!”

Her scarlet eyes narrowed in annoyance. “The third basic prayer is all internal. Just imagine your body as healthy and whole as it should be and you shall be healed. No words need to be spoken. But it takes time, a few minutes, and it will leave you vulnerable.”

“And restrained,” I muttered.

“So, bide your time, wait for the opportunity, and seize it,” Azrael hissed in anger, her face a thunderstorm of fury.

I flinched, taking a step back. “But, how can I create that opportunity?”

“There is one prayer, gifted only to Shamans,” Azrael answered, calming down. “Because I am the Angel of Death, you may pull back the veil and summon help. It is very dangerous, the dead will draw on your life-force. I do not know how long you could maintain the summons. A few minutes, a few seconds, but it may give you the opportunity.”

“How?” I asked, frowning.

“Tsalmaveth.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Violet Matheson – Tacoma, WA

“Violet,” Loreena said, shaking me awake. “Something is happening.” She spoke with a slurred, stiff speech.

Yesterday, Loreena had saved me. She took me into her house and we spent the night huddled on her bed watching TV. Watching Brandon Fitzsimmons declare himself God. It was totally surreal. Master was getting beaten so viciously, and then the President of the United States himself arrived and surrendered the country to that horrible Brandon.

“This can’t be happening,” Loreena had said as she read the subtitles. She was deaf and Brandon’s powers did not seem to affect her. “How can the President just surrender?”

“Brandon’s evil,” I answered, facing her so she could read my lips. “He sold his soul for dark powers.”

We fell asleep on her bed – her bedroom TV muted – drawing comfort from each other as the world descended into madness. The night was full of unnatural sounds. Helicopters were constantly flying overhead and gunshots would ring violently out through the night. Every time I woke up, I would clutch Loreena and she would hug me just as tight.

Now it was Sunday morning and Loreena motioned me to come to the window, the rising sun filling her room with a soft light. I walked over and glanced outside and saw soldiers marching a woman to a truck. She was naked and I could see other women in the back of the truck. At the next house, soldiers were kicking in the front door. I could hear faint shouts and then I jumped from the crack of gunshots. A minute later, the soldiers dragged a sobbing teenage-girl out, then ripped her clothes off. God, it looked like they were laughing at the poor girl.

Depositing the naked girl in the truck, the soldiers headed for the next houses on the street. My heart froze in terror. They were searching house to house, dragging out the women they found. And they were working their way to this house.

“We have to hide!” I shouted. Loreena ignored me as she stared out of the window in shock. I forgot she was deaf, so I grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face me. “We need a place to hide.”

Loreena gaped at me, her eyes full of disbelieving horror. Yesterday, US Soldiers didn’t break down your door and drag you off. But that was before the world changed. Loreena glanced out the window, then took a deep breath and nodded. She grabbed my hand and led me out of the bedroom and down the stairs. She pushed on some paneling on the wall below the stairs and it moved, revealing a crawlspace beneath the stairs.

I nodded to her and mouthed, “This would work.”

We both squeezed in, pulling the panel closed. It smelled musty, and cobwebs clung to my hair. I was too scared to care about that, too scared to wonder where the spiders were that made all these webs. We sat down, and leaned against unfinished wood and waited. My heart was thundering in my chest as I strained to hear what was going on. I wished I had a watch or something, to tell how long we had been in here. It felt like an eternity as we waited in the dark, straining to hear anything.

What was taking the soldiers so long? I was starting to feel sick in my stomach as I waited. The stress was too much. Please, just let them search the house and move on. I wasn’t sure how much more of this interminable waiting I could take. I tried to count my breaths, my heartbeats, anything to try and give me an idea of how much time was passing by.

Maybe the soldiers weren’t coming? How long could I wait in here? Had it been minutes or hours? I swallowed, wondering if maybe we should slip out and check. We could be real quick—pop out, peer out the window, and pop back into our hiding spot. The soldiers would never know. I was reaching for the panel, preparing to push it open.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

I jumped in surprise, someone was pounding hard on the front door. The soldier hammered again, paused, then hammered a third time. “Open up!” a man shouted. “Open up in the name of your God! All Citizens are required to submit to searches!” He banged again. “Last chance, then we’re breaking the door down and executing whomever we find!”

There was a splintering crash, then booted feet pounded through the house. Dust fell down into my face as they raced upstairs, tickling at my nose. Oh no. I clasped my hand over my nose, trying to ignore the growing, tickling sensation. One of the soldiers was searching the first floor, the other the second. More dust trickled down and I could feel the sneeze building. Please no! Not now! The sensation was growing unbearable. Any second I would sneeze and they would find us and kill us. I fought it, suppressed the ticklish urge.

Achoo!

I jumped as Loreena sneezed, and fear surged coldly through my veins. Everything seemed to be quiet all of a sudden. Were the soldiers listening? Did they hear Loreena’s sneeze? They must be straining, trying to figure out where that sneeze had come from, looking for the place where we were hiding. I squeezed Loreena tightly, felt her heart thudding in her chest.

“Clear!” one soldier yelled from upstairs.

A soft moan came from Loreena and I could feel her trembling. She was deaf. She didn’t know what was happening. It was too dark in here for her to see my lips, to let me tell her to be quiet, that everything was okay. Her moan was growing louder; she was going to give us away. I had to silence her.

I kissed her.

Her lips were soft and moist. I could feel her tense in shock. She tried to pull away, and I grabbed the back of her head and pulled her tight, thrusting my tongue deep into her lips. I felt her start to relax; start to kiss me back.

“Clear!” the other soldier yelled back, and then the booted feet were stomping down the stairs and they were out of the house.

I kept kissing Loreena, our passions growing. All the stress of the last twenty-four hours melted away as I kissed this beautiful, kind woman. My hands reached out and found the cotton nightgown she was wearing, and I started hiking it up. She rose up and I pulled it over her ass. I rubbed at her pussy beneath her panties, feeling the soft hair and the growing wetness.

Her hands started touching me. I wore a borrowed nightgown and I helped her pull it up my body. I wore no panties and her fingers gently touched my bald, teenage cunt. I moaned into her mouth, enjoying her uncertain touch as she stroked my flushed vulva. I hooked my fingers into the waistband of her panties and pulled them off, stroking her silky pussy hair and finding her snatch dripping wet.

Loreena moaned into my lips as I gently stroked her clit. I shifted, turning to face her and scissoring my legs with hers. I scooted closer and closer until our pussies kissed. I started writhing my hip, sliding my wet pussy along her furry muff. It felt so good to forget about everything that had happened and lose myself in the pleasure of this woman.

She started humping me back and I broke the kiss to lean back on my elbows and really started to trib her. “Umm, your cunt feels so soft on mine!” I moaned, forgetting that she was deaf as my orgasm built inside me. “Fuck me! Yes, yes! I need this!”

Loreena was moaning just as loud, but wordlessly, a pure sound untainted by language. My eyes had adjusted to the darkness just enough to make out her form as she writhed in pleasure. One of her hands had pushed up her nightgown and fingered her nipple. Pleasure blossomed within me, every time my clit rubbed against her pussy it grew and grew.

“Yes! I’m coming! Oh, Loreena! Sweet Loreena, your pussy’s driving me wild!”

Loreena’s moans grew shrill and I could feel moisture flooding my pussy as her orgasm exploded through her. I shuddered a few more times, then stopped pumping my hips, breathing heavily. I leaned over, captured her lips with a gentle kiss, and hugged her tight. I tried to hold onto this happy, satisfied feeling.

But the fear and stress was bubbling back up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mary Glassner – Toulouse, France

It was late at night in France when we arrived, landing in Toulouse. Back home, it was Sunday afternoon, and I was told that all the footage from America was Mark getting beaten for the second day, interspersed with clips of the President surrendering to Brandon. I kept sending Mark supportive thoughts, letting him know that I had a plan, that I was coming for him.

I wasn’t going to let my husband down.

The eighteen hour trip to France had seemed to drag on and on. I couldn’t sleep, I could barely eat. All I could do was fret and stare out the window or open my locket that Mark gave me on the day I met him. It was silver, heart-shaped, with a pink rose sculpted into the front. It was absolutely gaudy, not at all something that I would have chosen for myself.

It was my favorite piece of jewelry after my wedding ring.

Inside were pictures of Mark and I. It comforted me on the interminable flight to open it up and stare at my husband’s face, stroking the tiny photo with a finger, and weep.

We barely made it out of the US; air travel was suspended as we took off from LaGuardia. We had to stop for fuel before crossing the Atlantic, and we had just gotten airborne when the order was given. Luckily, shutting down the Nation’s airspace takes time and we were able to slip out over the ocean without anyone stopping us.

The last five hours of the flight were the worst. That’s when they started beating Mark again. Every time my husband sent me a thought, I could feel the agony he was experiencing through his sending. I do not know how he is able to withstand it. Just the shadow of his pain was enough to make me cry. Somehow, despite the beatings, he told me about his dream, and what he learned from Azrael. He could conjure magical weapons and armor, he could heal himself, and summon the dead.

When we landed in Toulouse, France, transportation was waiting. I had made calls ahead of time to arrange for several vans and a police escort. The drive to Rennes-le-Château – a small, ancient village built atop a rocky hill that rose black out of the countryside – took maybe an hour. The only way up the cliff was a winding, narrow lane. Behind the Church of Mary Magdalene lay the Motherhouse of the Nuns that had twice attacked us. Both buildings were ancient, made of vine-covered stone pitted with age.

Silently, the SWAT officers slipped out of the vans in their black nomex, MP5s in their hands, and they quickly surrounded the Motherhouse. Meanwhile, the bodyguards formed a perimeter around the two buildings, supported by the French police. I leaned against the van, the September night air cool on my naked flesh. I never got a chance to get dressed, other things were just more important.

Five of the former SWAT officers stacked on the front door. They gave each other hand-signals, then opened the front door and moved quickly inside. Through the small, stained-glass windows, I could see their flashlights shining around as they searched the building. 47 leaned against the van next to me and squeezed my hand, smiling reassuringly at me.

After what seemed like an hour waiting in the cold, one of the SWAT reappeared and motioned to us. 47 formed a guard of four around me and we marched over to the SWAT officer. It was Duncan, who commanded the SWAT for us.

“Ma’am, we have a woman in custody,” he reported. “We found her in the basement. If you would follow me, please.”

“She was hiding?” I asked as he led me inside.

“No, she is waiting for you,” Duncan answered. “We found her just calmly sitting in this metal room, a pot of tea steaming on the table before her and two cups. There was not a hint of fear in her eyes.”

We walked through the narrow corridors then down a tight, narrow staircase into the basement. I shook with nerves. You can do this, Mary, I reassured myself. She is one woman and you have fourteen armed men and women immune to her powers, and there are more waiting outside.

In the basement, we walked past old cardboard boxes, reeking of mildew, stacked against one wall. At the far end was a black metal door carved with strange symbols. Inside, I could see a woman in a gray nun’s habit, a simple, white veil covering her head, sipping calmly from a cup of tea. She looked up at me and I froze; her dark eyes were ancient, far beyond the youth of her face.

Who was this woman?

Mom said she was a legend, over a thousand years old. Karen said she had been waiting two thousand years for this moment. I steeled myself and entered the room. The walls, the floor, the ceiling, all of it was black metal carved with the same strange symbols as the door. I froze, licking my lips. This was wrong. I should be running out of here. How can she be so calm? She must know what I am, what my soldiers are. She should be terrified, or at the very least nervous.

So why is she so calm?

“Would you like some tea?” she asked pleasantly in a thick, French accent. Her face was dusky, a warm and friendly smile graced her red lips, and dark hair peaked out from beneath her veil. She looked Middle-eastern, a little like our former slut Thamina.

I wasn’t sure what to do. I swallowed, glancing at 47. There was worry in her eyes. She sensed something was wrong, too. This woman was unnaturally calm. I glanced at the men guarding her and I could see the tension in their eyes, their guns readied in their hands. How are we all intimidated by this one, unarmed woman?

“Well, child, are you going to come in and sit down?” the woman continued. “I would like to talk with you. It is very important.”

“Fine,” I said, and sat down on the hard, wooden chair. She grabbed the porcelain teapot and poured me a glass of a spicy-smelling tea. I took it, sipping, then froze. What if she put something in it?

An amused smile flitted across the woman’s lips. “It is not poisoned or drugged, I assure you. Can you close the door so we may speak privately?”

I frowned, “No, my guards stay in here.”

“They are not the prying ears I care about,” the woman answered. “Please, I have much to tell you.”

I wanted to say no. I wasn’t here to talk, I was here to steal her Gift. Mark was getting beaten right now. There wasn’t time to waste on talking. And yet, her eyes were so ancient, so wise, I swallowed and found myself nodding my head. I did need something else from her, besides her Gift.

“I will close the door, if you hand over your copy of the Magicks of the Witch of Endor,” I told her. This entire mess was caused by Brandon getting ahold of that damned book. If we survived this mess, we needed to get our hands on the two copies that we didn’t have. No-one else could learn about it and use that knowledge against us.

“Alas, I do not have it,” she answered.

“Don’t lie to me!” I snapped. “I know it is here.”

“Where did you hear that?”

“Wikipedia,” I answered. I felt foolish when I said that out loud.

She shrugged. “Feel free to search the place once we’re finished. But it is gone. I could not let you get your hands on it.”

I frowned. “I already have a copy of the book.”

“Copies are not the original,” she answered. “I have no idea where it is hidden now.”

What did that mean? The original must have something unique in it. Something dangerous. “Fine, humor her and close the door. Let’s hear what she says to try and stop me.”

“I cannot stop you from stealing my Gift,” she answered matter-of-factly.

The door closed with a metallic clang. “Who are you?” I asked. She was a Nun, I could see the golden aura about her. “Are you the Mother Superior?”

“I am Maryām,” she answered. “Once of the town of Magdala.”

My family was Irish; my dad was a lapsed Catholic, but I had been to a few masses. My heart skipped a beat. “That’s impossible.”

“No,” she said with a shake of her head. “For two thousand years I have fought ha-Satan, the Adversary. I have learned much and more. I have this one warning for you, Mary. You and Mark are his pawns. Everything you do brings about his freedom from the Abyss. Him and all those bound with him.”

“You mean the Devil?” I asked and she nodded. “He is trying to escape Hell?”

“It is inevitable at this stage,” Maryām sighed. “The Supernatural has been revealed to the World. False Gods are once more being worshiped. The Evil of the days of Noah walks the world once more. It doesn’t matter if it’s you and Mark, or Brandon, or another pawn. Everyday, more and more people are deceived. The Prison is so weak, only one last event is necessary to bring it crumbling down.”

“Why are you telling me this? If it’s inevitable.”

“The Adversary can be contained, the damage done to the world can be mitigated,” Maryām answered. “You and Mark are lesser evils compared to the Adversary. I have read the future, I have seen the subtlety of his plan. If you and Mark defeat Brandon, Lilith will confront you and be killed. Her death will be the final blow that springs the lock, and the Adversary will be freed.” She took a sip. “If you are ready when Lilith dies, you may trap him.”

I swallowed. Mark and I had wondered what the Devil’s plan was, why he had given Mark Lilith’s gem. So this was it. To escape Hell. And what would happen once he was freed? Lilith clearly hates humans, but what about the Devil? And all those other demons trapped in Hell; do they hate us just as much? A chill ran down my spine.

What have we done?

“How can we trap him?” I asked, shaken by her words.

“I do not know. Search the old writings.”

“Old writings?”

“The Creator in his infinite Wisdom saw that many ancient works were preserved at Qumran.” She took one last sip of her tea. “This room, study it carefully. It is a Matmown. A Hidden Place. No spiritual being can pierce through its walls. The Adversary cannot spy on you here or accurately predict your future. What you plan in here will forever be hidden from him. It is the only advantage you will have. Your Vizier, Samnag Soun, should have no trouble re-creating the room. Never speak of your plans outside of this room, not even telepathically through the Siyach spell. Those thoughts pass through the spiritual realms and can easily be plucked out of the Ether. Only in a room like this are your plans truly safe from him.”

Maryām stood up suddenly and all my guards aimed their guns at her. She laughed, and to my surprise, she started stripping off her clothes. Her veil came off first, revealing her luxurious, dark hair. Then she untied the belt cinching her gray habit and pulled the robe off her body. She was naked underneath; her breasts were large, with dark nipples, and her stomach flat. She had curvy hips, and a thick, dark bush grew between her legs.

“So, you are the whore after all,” I laughed, drinking in her beauty.

Maryām grimaced, “I was never a whore. A sinner, yes, but never a whore. That was Pope Gregory I’s mistake. Men ever love salacious rumors and that one has dogged my reputation ever since.”

“Then why are you getting naked?” I asked.

“You plan on stealing my Gift. I know what that entails.”

The Ganubath ritual was the opposite of the Nun’s exorcism. I needed to bring Maryām to an orgasm, and when she cums, I would steal her Gift for myself. Maryām laid down on the cold metal floor, spreading her legs. I knelt down before her. I realized that I hadn’t had sex in over twenty-four hours. Since I met Mark, the only long stretches without sex were when I slept. Seeing her lying naked and willing, I felt my own pussy stir with arousal.

I knelt down. Her pubic hair was matted with her juices and I could smell her honey. I rubbed my face through her silky pubic hair, enjoying the way it tickled against my skin. I breathed deeply, then licked at her slit. Maryām moaned in pleasure. I spread open her slit, exposing the wet, pink flesh and buried my face into her lips.

I ate her quickly, devouring her tasty juices. I needed to get her off as fast as I could. Mark was waiting. I ran my tongue up her labia, my fingers gently circling her clit. Then I shoved my tongue as deep into her as I could.

Maryām was moaning something. It wasn’t French. It sounded like Hebrew, maybe. Or Aramaic. Her hips were starting to writhe. I drank her thick juices, sweet as honey, then slid my lips up to suck on her hard pearl. My tongue circled her clit as I slipped two fingers inside her pussy. She was tight and hot as I quested for her G-spot.

She cried out loudly when my fingers found that sensitive bundle of nerves. Her orgasm crashed through her, flooding my lips. “Ganubath!” I screamed.

Golden power flowed out of Maryām and poured into me. It filled me, sinking into every single inch of my body, into my soul. I cried out, an orgasm exploding inside me. The power was so pure, so beautiful, that it left me trembling on the floor. I picked myself up, looking down at the panting Maryām. No longer was her aura gold. It was silver. She was just a regular woman now. Her eyes stared up at me, lidded with lust. When I made my Pact, I wished that every woman who saw me would desire me, and it was clearly working on Maryām now that the protection of her Gift was gone.

Exultation flooded me. I did it! I could stop Brandon. All I had to do was fuck him and this would be over.

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 38.

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The Devil’s Pact Chapter 36: The God-King

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Chapter 36: The God-King

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2013, 2014


Story Codes: Female/Female, Mind Control, Magic, Incest, Violence

For a list of all the Devil’s Pact Chapters and other stories click here

Comments are very welcome. I would like all criticism, positive and negative, so long as its
constructive, and feedback is very appreciated. To contact me, you can leave a comment or email me at mypenname3000@mypenname3000.com, and you can contact my editor by email at dionysus40@prodigy.net.



Click here for Chapter 35.



Saturday, September 28th, 2013 – Mark Glassner

I watched in stunned horror as the US soldiers opened fire on the Tacoma Police blockading the street in front of the courthouse. The soldiers had just roped out of a pair of hovering Black Hawk helicopters, attacking the police blockading the stretch of Tacoma Avenue in front of the Courthouse. As the soldiers spread out, I shouted orders into the microphone; my voice boomed out of the speakers placed around the square.

The soldiers ignored my commands.

A chill spread through me. They ignored my commands. I could see the black of their auras wreathed in the faintest red. They were Thralls under the protection of the Zimmah ritual, bound to some other Warlock. They were immune to my powers. Exactly the same way we made our family and sluts immune to anyone else’s orders.

Fuck! This was very bad!

There was a whirring sound, like a motor revving up, then a terrific roar and a gout of flame erupted from the side of one of the hovering Black Hawks. The mini-gun fired; I watched in horror as its bullets ripped through the police blockade. A second whirring sound built, and the other helicopter opened fire on the opposite police blockade. Golden tracers streaked down, raining death on the Tacoma police officers.

“Sir, let’s go!” 51 shouted, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the courthouse.

The crowd in front of the courthouse screamed in panic and ran for cover. My bodyguards formed a protective circle around me, dragging me back into the courthouse. They pulled Violet and Desiree into their circle of protection and herded us through the courthouse. I struggled to think but panic froze my thoughts. Soldiers bound to my enemy were attacking me. I was not prepared for this.

Holy shit! I was not prepared for this!

“Where are we going?” I asked, finally gathering some of my wits.

“The back of the Courthouse, on Yakima Avenue,” 51 answered. How did she sound so calm? “We parked the limo and our patrol cars back there, remember?”

“Right,” I nodded. We raced through the courthouse and I struggled to think despite the adrenaline that pounded through my veins. We were under attack by US Soldiers. We were not prepared for this. They could be coming for Mary, I realized; my eyes opened with horror.

They could be coming for Mary.

“51, Fallen Eagle!”

51 glanced at me, nodded, and pulled out her Nextel. They were similar to radios, but worked over the cell phone network. All of our bodyguards had one. “51 to all units, Fallen Eagle. I repeat, Fallen Eagle.”

Fallen Eagle. The code phrase for the worst case scenario—the hammer is falling and we need to get the hell out of Dodge.

Ever since the Nuns attacked us three months ago, I had been preparing for another attempt. The bodyguards had their instructions to get everyone they could to safety. In Kansas I had a bolthole prepared; a place where we could regroup and figure out how to face this new threat.

“47, copy Fallen Eagle.” 47 was with Mary back at the house; she would get my wife to safety.

Squad D reported in with Shannon and George in Chicago. Squads E and F, guarding our planes, also responded. Now we just had to move quickly and we might just be able to escape and figure out how to deal with this new, overwhelming force. We rounded a corner, and I could see the limo idling outside, the passenger door open and Leah waiting nervously, looking up at the sky.

“Hurry!” Leah shouted as we burst outside, beckoning urgently with her arm.

The moment we stepped outside sounds crashed into us. I could hear sirens coming in from every direction. 51 wore a police radio patched into Tacoma PD’s network, and I could hear the frantic calls for help from police officers completely outmatched by the soldiers. The roar of helicopters and gunshots echoed through the streets. Shadows passed overhead; I glanced up to see more Black Hawks escorted by smaller helicopters, black against the blue sky.

Holy shit! Did someone take control of the entire fucking army? Holy fucking shit!

I practically threw myself into the limo, followed by a crying Violet and a wild-eyed Desiree, her big tits flopping about as she dived in. Violet clung to me as 51 jumped in. Leah ran around, hopping into the driver seat. With an AR-15 clutched in her hand, 09 jumped into the passenger seat, while 32, also armed with an AR-15 piled in back with us.

What’s going on, Mark? Mary’s thought practically shouted in my mind.

Soldiers attacked the rally, I sent back, trying to keep my terror out of my sending. I’m okay; we’re in the limo and driving off. The soldiers are Thralls, protected with the Zimmah spell!

Oh my god!

The limo peeled out, following two of our bodyguard’s cop cars. Two more followed. They took the left at 9th Street, heading up to the top of the hill and away from the firefight at the courthouse. Relief washed through me as I stared through the rear window. I could see the soldiers at the intersection of 9th and Tacoma Ave, occupying the ruins of the police blockade. None followed us.

I sighed in relief. It looked like we were clear.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mary Glassner

“Umm, that feels nice, Mom,” I moaned as she lapped at my pussy.

I was feeling better after the bout of morning sickness I had. Mom had shown up and we started playing with the fruit Mark had left for me before he went to the gun-buyback rally in Tacoma. I would have gone with him but I had a rough morning. I rubbed my stomach, excited to be pregnant, and hating all the little inconveniences it brought on.

After spending most of the morning vomiting, I decided to skip the rally and take a nap. I woke up refreshed and famished when Mom came in to check up on me. Then we started having so much fun eating strawberries and pussy-cream, and I ate an entire peeled banana out of Mom’s cunt. We made a mess, but that’s why we had a washing machine.

Mom’s tongue felt amazing on my pussy and I was getting closer and closer to an orgasm, when I heard footsteps racing up the stairs. I sat up on my elbows, looking at the bedroom door, frowning. What was going on out there? Mom stopped licking at my pussy, and sat up as the door burst open and 47 raced towards me, her light-brown hair streaming behind her.

“Ma’am, we need to go right now!” the second-in-command of our bodyguard shouted. “Fallen Eagle!”

My mind went blank with panic. She grabbed my arm and roughly pulled me to my feet. Two more bodyguards were right behind her and one grabbed my mother. She said Fallen Eagle; that was the code used if something really, really bad has happened. Fear clutched at my stomach as 47 tried to pull me out of the room. Oh God, only Mark or I could give that command.

“We need to go, ma’am!” 47 insisted.

“My locket!” I cried. Fallen Eagle meant that we were abandoning our home. We might never get to come back. I couldn’t leave without my locket; Mark gave it to me the day we met. Next to the wedding ring on my finger, it was the most important thing I owned. I ran to my dresser and opened my jewelry box, pulling out the silver heart with the pink rose sculpted on the front. I quickly pulled it over my head to let it dangle between my breasts along with my protection amulet. Then I let 47 drag me out of the room.

I concentrated, using our new communication spell, and sent my panicked thoughts to Mark, What’s going on, Mark? Mark’s reply sent ice flooding through my veins; a Warlock attacked Mark with soldiers bound by the Zimmah ritual. My heart hammered in fear. What could we do against Thralls that we couldn’t use our powers on? And he said soldiers. God, that’s like the SWAT attack last June on steroids!

We raced out of the house, and the street bustled with activity. Some of the bodyguards were watching vigilantly, AR-15s in their hands, while the rest were herding our family and servants out of their houses and piling them into the fleet of black SUVs we owned. One of the SUVs was waiting in the driveway, and I jumped in along with my mom. Lillian, Xiu, and Korina piled into our SUV and the rest of our sluts piled into a second vehicle.

In just a few minutes, everyone who lived in the neighborhood – our sluts, our families, and our important servants – were loaded into SUVs and we were off. The plan was to drive north, to Boeing Field in Seattle. Our Gulfstream was too well known. Any enemy attacking us was sure to try and seize it or stop us from reaching it. Julius Prescott III, a billionaire we knew, owned a freight airline known as Air-Cargo, and we arranged for a hangar of his at Boeing Field to be set aside to house a 747 airplane. Hopefully, our enemy did not know about this plane.

In five minutes, we were clear of our neighborhood, driving north at breakneck speed. I could hear all sorts of chatter on 47′s police radio and on the Nextel. “What’s going on?” I asked 47.

“A Police Tactical alert has just been issued,” 47 answered. “There are reports of US soldiers setting up roadblocks around Tacoma, and a convoy of Strykers is rolling up 512 towards South Hill. They’re running cars off the road, ma’am.”

“Strykers? Those are armored tanks, right?” I asked in fear.

“Armored personnel carriers, ma’am,” 47 corrected. “Not as heavily armored as a tank, but just as dangerous. Squad E has abandoned the Gulfstream. They saw several Black Hawks flying towards Thun Field.”

Please let them not know about our other plane, I begged silently. Please!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Brandon Fitzsimmons

“My Lord Fitzsimmons, we’ve taken the courthouse,” Colonel Abbey said.

He was sitting right next to me, but the only reason I could hear him over the roar of the helicopter’s rotor was through the chopper’s internal intercom. We were in the Command Information Center, or CIC, Black Hawk, hovering high over Tacoma. I was wearing an uncomfortable helmet with headphones over my ears that blocked most of the Black Hawk’s rotor noise. Colonel Abbey was the G3, or operations officer, for I Corp and was coordinating the occupation of Tacoma.

“Do you have Mark?” I demanded.

I could almost taste my victory. Mark Glassner would soon be mine along with his wife, Mary. I would make her my concubine, force Mark to watch as his lovely wife became my whore. It was what he deserved for stealing my beautiful Desiree. I looked down at Tacoma, as we flew above it in the Black Hawk. The Army Rangers that had fast-roped into Tacoma were surrounding the courthouse as the Stryker Brigade barreled down the freeway to secure the city.

The main part of Tacoma was built on a peninsula that jutted out into Puget Sound. There were about a dozen roads that crossed the Nalley Valley that separated the peninsula from the mainland. If those streets were blockaded, the city would be cut in half and trap anyone on the peninsula, including Mark if he managed to escape the courthouse.

“My Lord, Chalk 2 reports a limo heading west on 9th Street with a police escort,” Colonel Abbey reported after a minute. If I remembered the briefing correctly, a chalk was a group of rangers deployed out of the same helicopter. Chalk 2 was tasked with taking the intersection of 9th Street and Tacoma Avenue.

“Damn it,” I snarled. “I want that limo stopped and everyone inside captured.”

“Absolutely, my Lord,” Colonel Abbey replied. “Bandit 1 and Bandit 3, do you have eyes on a limo heading west from the courthouse?” I couldn’t hear the reply; I was only listening to the helicopter’s internal comms, not the battle comms. Colonel Abbey nodded. “Disable the vehicle and provide support. Raider 3, head west and drop your chalk on that vehicle.”

Bandits were the Little Birds, small, agile helicopters armed with mini-guns that were quite deadly in urban operations. Raiders were the Black Hawks carrying a chalk of Rangers. Mark wouldn’t stand a chance, I thought with a smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mark Glassner

The limo bounced around on Tacoma’s streets. The city had lost the war against potholes years ago, and the streets grew worse and worse every year. Leah must be doing nearly sixty as we raced away from the courthouse, and we were being thrown about in the back.

“Hold on!” Leah shouted, braking hard, and then the limo made a sharp turn onto Sprague Avenue and we were racing south.

Violet still clung to me, sobbing into my chest. “Shh, it’ll be alright,” I told her, stroking her brown hair. Though I wish I could believe that.

I heard the roar of a helicopter and I started looking up at the sky in fear. Violet buried her face into my chest at the sound. “Shit, it’s in front of us!” Leah shouted.

I bent down to look out the front of the limo and saw streaks of yellow raining down from the sky. Tracers, I realized, as the lead cop car seemed to explode in sparks, and careened off to the side of the road. The second cop car tried to swerve; a torrent of bullets shredded its trunk. The tracers marched quickly towards us; it sounded like heavy rain as the bullets struck the limo’s armor. The windshield splintered. Desiree was engulfed by blue light as her amulet deflected a bullet. The limo swerved suddenly to the left. There was the sound of metal crunching and I was flung forward, my seatbelt digging into my chest and waist.

What the fuck just happened? My mind was fuzzy and I groaned in pain. “We need to move,” someone shouted.

“Leah’s shot!” another person shouted.

“Shit!” Someone was shaking me. “Sir, we need to move!”

A Black woman’s face hovered in front of me, urgently speaking to me. It took me a moment to realize it was 51 and I blinked, looking around. There were dents and holes in the roof of my armored limo. In the front seat I saw Leah slumped over the steering wheel, blood staining her back. The bodyguard in the passenger seat was struggling to open the passenger door. 51 pulled out her folding knife and quickly cut my jammed seatbelt.

“Leah,” I shouted, climbing across the limo and grabbing her. I concentrated on her being healed, and whispered, “Tsariy,” and red light engulfed her body. She convulsed. When the scarlet light faded, she sat upright, perfectly healed. Around her neck, the bronze amulet smoked, the protection spell overwhelmed by the helicopter’s mini-guns.

“We need to go, sir!” 51 shouted, grabbing me and pulling me out of the limo.

We had crashed into a traffic light, the metal pole bent and fallen across the top of the limo. The hood was torn to pieces and white smoke curled serpentine up into the air from the engine block. Metal scars and pockmarks littered the body of the limo where the armor had withstood the mini-gun’s fire. I looked for our escorts and saw the twisted remains of the four cars. The helicopter’s guns had shredded them into mangled mockeries of a car.

Two bodyguards were crawling out of the mangled mockeries – their amulets must have saved their lives – but the other four must be lying dead or dying in the wreckage of their cars. I started to run for the nearest one when 51 grabbed me and pointed up at the sky. Two small helicopters, both of which had large mini-guns slung on their sides by the landing skids, were banking around, and beyond them a Black Hawk was swooping towards us.

“Leah, Violet, and Desiree, scatter!” I shouted. “They’re after me, you might get away!”

09 led, running with her AR-15 out, heading down an alley between two buildings. I followed, 51 and 32 on either side with 18 and 27, the two survivors from the escorts, bringing up the rear. The downdraft from the Black Hawk slammed into us and kicked up stinging dust as it banked overhead. I saw the rope drop out the side of the helicopter; the soldiers began deploying.

“Shit!” 51 shouted. “Back, back!”

We turned and saw one of the small helicopters hovering at the mouth of the alley, cutting us off. There was a fence and someone’s yard to the right and I jumped, grabbing the top and easily hauling myself over. I was never more thankful for getting the Gift from Tiffany than right now. It gave me increased physical strength and stamina, and I was going to need every advantage I had to survive this.

51 followed me over the fence. Gunfire rang out and 32 was halfway over when a bullet bounced off her shielding. She made it over as the fence splintered from the gunfire. I could hear the remaining bodyguards returning fire in the alleyway, buying us time.

“Keep running!” 51 shouted.

I ran across the yard, glancing over my shoulder to see that damned helicopter dogging our steps. The pilot must be radioing our position. I reached the opposite fence, jumping up and quickly scrambling over. As I lowered myself on the other side, I froze. 32 had stopped, and was kneeling in the middle of the yard, aiming her AR-15 at the small helicopter. She started carefully firing at it, rounds striking the windshield of the helicopter. It pivoted smoothly, lining up its guns at 32.

“Run!” I shouted as 51 scrambled over the fence. “Run, 32!”

She ignored me. The only time the bodyguards could ignore my orders was to protect my life. Fire spat from the helicopter, clods of dirt exploded around 32. She kept calmly firing. Blue energy sprang up around her as the rounds struck her protective charms. For a second I thought she was going to be fine, then the spell was overwhelmed and the bullets ripped through her body.

One of her rounds must have hit something important, because the helicopter started pitching to the side. I could see the pilot inside struggling with the yoke. The copter drifted closer and closer to a tree. Branches flew as the blades dipped in, and then there was a woody thunk and a loud, splintering sound. The rotor blades disintegrated, throwing debris everywhere. The chopper spun in the air and slammed into a shed with a satisfying crunch of metal.

I started to climb back over; if I reached 32 before she died I could heal her. “She’s dead, sir,” 51 said as she grabbed my arm. “You’re not. Do not let her death be in vain.”

I cursed, and let go of the fence. We were out on a side-street and we could hear booted feet approaching. We cut diagonally across the street, racing for a small, brown house with a mossy roof. There were several cracking pops from behind us; suddenly everything around me went blue. My amulet just stopped a round, I realized. Adrenaline was screaming through my veins. There were more gunshots; I could hear bullets whizzing past and blue erupted around me a second time, a third time.

“Shit, the car!” I shouted, pointing at the beat up, gray Plymouth with red primer staining the hood. “The amulets won’t take much more gunfire!”

I slid down behind the Plymouth as gunfire pounded against the car; glass shattered and metal pinged with every bullet strike. My heart was hammering. I risked a glance around the car and saw the soldiers at the corner. Several were firing at us while others dashed across the street. Fire and maneuver, I think it was called. 51 shot back with her 9mm service pistol and the soldiers hit the dirt and returned fire, and 51′s amulet deflected two rounds.

I didn’t see an escape. There was no cover for twenty or more feet and there were just too many soldiers. Mary, I love you, I sent. I don’t think I’m getting out of this one.

No! I can’t lose you, Mark!

I swallowed. There was only one hope. Tiffany said Monks were fighters, that their powers were combat oriented. I was as physically strong as a man could be, with quick reflexes. If I charged them, maybe somehow I could defeat them. I hoped that the amulet might sustain a few more shots. I readied myself, took a deep breath, and burst out from the car and ran as fast as I possibly could, as fast as any Olympic sprinter. The distance between me and the soldiers disappeared rapidly.

The soldiers were startled by my sudden charge, but their training took over and they opened fire. The world turned blue about me as the amulet deflected another shot, and then I was on the first soldier. He rose, bracing himself as I slammed into him. He fell back hard, and I nearly lost my balance and fell with him. A second soldier leapt at me; we grappled.

I was stronger than the soldier, more agile, but I lacked any training. I didn’t know how to fight. The soldier did. I pushed him off of me and took a clumsy swing at his face. He easily grabbed my arm, did something with his hip, and I was flipping over him and falling on my back. I grunted, the wind knocked out of my lungs. The soldier pulled out his knife, and before I could react, it was pressed against my throat.

I froze.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mary Glassner

I’m captured, Mare, Mark sent me, keep going. The Nextels are going to be compromised now. Keep going, be safe! I love you.

No, no, no! This couldn’t be happening. I’ll save you, somehow! I thought back. We’re racing to the airport. Just hang in there. I love you!

“47,” I said, trying to keep my voice from cracking. “Mark is captured. The Nextels are probably compromised.”

“I understand, ma’am,” 47 replied. Her hand shook as she picked up her Nextel. “47 to all units, communications no longer secure. I repeat, communications not secure.”

Then she tossed her Nextel out the window.

Mark was captured. My mom wrapped her arms around me, holding me to her and suddenly all my emotions were pouring out of me as I sobbed into her breast. She stroked my hair and rocked me gently, just like she did when I was a child.

“Oh, Mom, what am I going to do?” I cried.

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “We will figure it out.”

In thirty minutes we reached Boeing field; I sobbed the entire way. We passed through the security gates and raced to the hanger. Our flight crew was waiting. Once we bought this plane, we moved our pilots, Joslyn and Lydia, here just in case.

Lydia was waiting outside for us. “Miss,” she greeted, her face pale with fright. Like all our close employees, Joslyn and Lydia were bound to Mark with the Zimmah ritual. “What is going on?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but more tears leaked out of my eyes and I couldn’t bring myself to say what happened. Mark was captured. What was I going to do? I just climbed on board and sat down in First Class, pressing my face to the cold window.

I love you, Mark, I thought to him. Stay strong! I will find a way to save you. I just wished I believed myself.

Love you, Mark sent back and I could feel his fear.

Everyone else was boarding. Mark’s mom Sandy squeezed my shoulder before she found a seat next to Betty, her girlfriend. My Dad and Mom sat next to each other. Mom was still naked from our lovemaking. Hell, I was too. There hadn’t been time to get dressed. All I had on was my wedding ring, my locket, and my protective amulet.

“It’ll be all right,” Missy, my younger sister, promised. She grabbed my hand, squeezed it, then leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. Then she sat down next to her boyfriend Damien.

Mark’s sister Antsy and her girlfriend Via were the last of our family to board. Only Shannon and her fiancee were missing. But they were in Chicago attending a conference for George’s job. The sluts boarded next and Lillian sat next to me and hugged me.

“It will be okay, Mistress,” she whispered. I wished I could believe her.

We waited for Squad E. They managed to get clear of Thun Field ahead of those soldiers and arrived fifteen minutes after we did, piling into the plane. Lydia closed and sealed the door, then sat down in the cockpit. We started taxiing to the runway. The engines revved and roared louder and louder as the pilots throttled up for takeoff. Then I was shoved back into my seat, and my stomach sank as the plane raced down the runway and leaped into the air.

We’re in the air, Mark, I sent to him. Your mom and Antsy are with me.

Good! I could feel the relief in his thought. He was worried about me. I wanted to cry again. Why should he be worried? I wasn’t the one captured by our enemy. The plane banked, turning to take us to Kansas and the decommissioned missile silo that was our emergency bunker.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mark Glassner

I felt relief wash through me. Mary and my family were safe; that was one less thing to worry about.

I lay facedown on the street, a soldier’s boot pressed into the back of my neck, the cold barrel of his M16 touching my cheek. My hands were zip-tied behind my back, a disgusting rag was shoved into my mouth and tied in place by a strip of cloth wrapped around my head. 51 lay next to me; the butt of a rifle had slammed into her face, opening a gash across her eyebrow.

“Up!” a soldier shouted and the one standing on my neck released me and hauled me to my feet.

Several tan Humvees rolled up. I saw 27 in the backseat of one of the Humvees and Desiree sat next to her. But I didn’t see Violet or Leah. Maybe they got away? Unless they were dead. I pushed that thought away as they forced me into the second Humvee. 51 was pushed in after me, her body leaning up against me. There was a dazed look in her eyes.

The Humvee drove off, heading back down to the courthouse. We passed columns of big, bulky armored vehicles bristling with weapons. Strykers, I think they were called, carrying infantry. More soldiers were guarding intersections; one would be manning a .50 cal machine gun while two more stood by holding M16s. Then we passed the wreckage of the firefight in front of the courthouse. Some of the soldiers were clearing away the shot up police cruisers, while others carried bodies to a waiting truck. And it wasn’t only dead police officers they carried, but civilians attending the gun-buyback that had gotten caught in the crossfire.

More civilians were sitting on their hands in the square before the Courthouse, watched over by dozens of soldiers. Some of the crowd looked scared, others were bewildered. They couldn’t believe that US Soldiers would attack them. That didn’t happen in America. That happened off overseas in some despotic country like Syria or North Korea. Not here. Not in America. A few had defiant looks on their faces, staring angrily at the Soldiers. Off to the side, the media were guarded by more soldiers, but they were being allowed to continue reporting. I could see all the cameras pointing at our convoy of Humvees, ready to broadcast my humiliation to the world.

And probably my execution, I thought bleakly.

The Humvees stopped in front of the courthouse, the door opened, and a soldier hauled me out. I saw his face. He was young, maybe eighteen, his eyes bright blue. There was a hard cast to his youthful features, his grip iron on my arm as he pushed me forward. I stood up straight as the eyes of the captured civilians fell on me. Shock and horror filled the faces of those that believed I was a God, then despair filled their eyes.

Guilt filled me. I had let them down. I wasn’t strong enough to protect them. But what could I do against an army? My greatest power was nullified by the Zimmah ritual. How could a Warlock put so many under his power? Every soldier I saw had their black aura fringed with a trace of red, the sign that they were bound by the spell. What could I do? What could Mary do? Despair crashed through my soul.

How was I getting out of this?

As we approached the courthouse the doors opened and a short, fat man in an expensive Italian suit, charcoal gray, stepped out. He was balding, his hair gray, and a look of triumph filled his eyes. I recognized him, Brandon Fitzsimmons. How the hell had Brandon bound anyone with the Zimmah spell? His mother was dead. A male Warlock needed his mother to perform the spell.

Brandon wasn’t alone. Flanking him were two women, scantily clad, that could almost be Mary’s long lost sisters. They were twins, with auburn hair and green eyes, and Mary’s heart-shaped face.

“Kneel before your God!” the soldier leading me barked and kicked me in the back of the knee. My leg folded out from under me and I fell painfully to my knees.

Brandon stepped up to the microphone. “I am Brandon Fitzsimmons!” his voice boomed through the speakers. “I have defeated the false God, Mark Glassner!” He paused, his words echoing through the air. “I am your God and King! Worship me! Obey me!”

I could hear the crowd behind me change as his commands sank in. I glanced behind me to see all the fear, the despair, the anger, melt away and awe replace it. They all had black auras and I could just make out a fringe of red. It was even worse than I could have imagined. He somehow was binding people to him without using the spell, just by speaking. I was immune to his powers; one of the benefits of the Gift.

Mary, the Warlock is Brandon Fitzsimmons. Do not listen to anything he says. You cannot afford to fall under his power. His words bind people with the Zimmah spell.

I let Brandon’s speech roll over me as Mary’s reply came back, What am I going to do, Mark? I need you. I feel like I’m falling apart.

You have to be strong, Mare, I told her.

How?

You’re the only hope we have. I need you. I love you. I know you can be strong! I believe in you! I had to. She was the only hope I had. And only if Brandon didn’t immediately execute me.

Why are you comforting me? I’m the one who’s safe. I should be comforting you. I could sense that she was calming down. I will find a way to save you, Mark. I promise!

Brandon was standing in front of me, I realized, and I defiantly stared up at him. “You’re immune to my powers, I see,” Brandon grimaced, then glanced at Desiree. “And my wife, too.”

“I’m not your wife anymore,” Desiree snarled. “I dumped you for someone better.”

Brandon smacked her with the back of his hand. “Quiet, woman. I’ll deal with you soon enough.” He turned to one of the soldiers, “Where’s his wife?”

“My Lord, two women escaped in the confusion, we are hunting them down,” the soldier reported. “I do not think either is Mary. Both appeared to be brunettes.”

“Dammit,” Brandon hissed. “Did you secure that Gulfstream of his at least?”

“Yes, My Lord,” an older soldier reported. He had eagles on his uniform so I think that made him a Colonel.

Brandon smiled, “Good, they’re trapped in the state. Our troops are heading for the passes?” The soldier nodded. He must mean the passes over the Cascade Mountains to Eastern Washington. “What about his house? Did you find anyone there?”

“Empty, my Lord,” the Colonel reported. “We missed everyone. The entire neighborhood was packed up.”

“Fuck! Burn the neighborhood,” Brandon ordered. “And that damned tent where his worshipers meet. Kill any who resist. Find where his servants went! You’ll find his wife with them.”

“Yes, my Lord,” the Colonel saluted.

Brandon turned to the crowd and took a microphone from one of the auburn-haired twins. “Here is your false God!” A boo rose up from the crowd. Just an hour ago these people cheered me; I never realized just how frightening my powers were. “He is only flesh and blood! He is weak and was defeated by the merest fraction of my power. Let me show you just how weak and human he really is!” He motioned to the soldiers.

The gag was cut off and two soldiers grabbed my head, prying my lips open. I fought, struggling to get free of their grasp, to close my mouth. A third soldier drew a knife. I struggled harder. What were they doing? I fought in vain to break free, to keep that glinting knife away from me. The third soldier forced his dirty fingers into my mouth, gripping my tongue. The blade flashed and blood filled my mouth.

“Master!” Desiree cried out, barely heard over the crowd’s roar.

Disbelief almost drowned out the pain. They had cut my tongue off! How could I use any of my powers without my tongue? I was thrown down onto my back; then the kicking started. Pain exploded in my back, my stomach, my legs. I curled up into a ball, trying to protect myself as booted foot after booted foot slammed into me.

I howled wordlessly in agony.

Over the pain, I heard Brandon’s voice roar, “Mary Glassner! Your husband will be abused day and night until you turn yourself in. Submit to me and be my concubine, and your husband shall go free!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mary Glassner

I was sitting in first class alone, save for my mom and little sister. I couldn’t stand everyone looking at me so I ordered them back to coach. Mom and Missy ignored me, sitting with me and holding my hands. Back in coach, they were watching the news. I was the only one that couldn’t watch it, the only one who couldn’t watch to see what was happening to my husband. Everyone on the plane but me was bound by the Zimmah ritual. I was the only one susceptible to Brandon’s power, and I could not afford to get bound to him.

I needed to be strong, for Mark, for our family. We were all dead if Mark died. My life was tied to his, our loved ones’ lives tied to ours. It all rested on my shoulders, and I felt like I was about to be crushed beneath the weight. How could I bear all this responsibility? I was only nineteen, barely an adult. My shoulders were just too slim to support this weight!

I thought of Mark, his boyish grin and deep-blue eyes. Mark needs me to be strong, to save him. I couldn’t afford to wallow in self-pity. I pushed at the despair, forcing it back. We were all lost if I fell apart. There had to be a way out of this. Just stay calm and think, Mary.

But I couldn’t!

My mind kept drifting back to Mark. I would struggle, trying to focus, and an image of Mark being hit would fill my mind. Of Mark placed before a firing squad, shot dead. Of Mark getting hung. I would force the images away, and even worse ones would slip into my mind.

Dad walked up from coach, his presence dragging me out of my morbid thoughts. He looked haggard as he gazed at me. He swallowed, then opened his mouth, like he wanted to say something, but he hesitated. His long, red hair, streaked with gray, fell loosely about his shoulders, not pulled back into his usual ponytail. My stomach sank. “What, Dad?” I wearily asked.

“Mark’s on TV,” Dad said. “They’re beating him.”

“What else?” I asked, sensing Dad was holding back on me.

“You can’t go back,” Dad firmly told me.

“I know,” I said sadly.

“This Brandon, he says Mark will be beaten day and night until you surrender yourself to him and be his concubine.”

I felt hysteria bubbling up inside me, almost bursting out in a laugh. Of course; he wants to do to me what we did to Desiree. Mark humiliated Brandon that day, took his wife in front of him. He wants revenge.

Mark, I am going to save you! I sent, mustering all my confidence and determination.

I’m fine. Do not turn yourself in. I can take it. I could feel his pain; I wanted to cry, but I had done enough of that.

I won’t. I’m going to save you, somehow. Be strong, Mark! I looked at Dad, and ordered, “Get Sam.” I felt a steely resolve growing inside me; I will save Mark. We had the Book, the Magicks of the Witch of Endor. The answer must be in there, somewhere. A way to neutralize Brandon’s powers or give me more power or something.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

President Baumgarten

“Mr. President,” Eustace Smyth, my Chief of Staff, said, holding up the phone. “He wants to speak with you.”

I frowned, watching the TV. They were still beating the despicable Mark Glassner. For the last few months my cabinet and I had argued what to do about him. He was a dangerous man, somehow corrupting anyone that came into contact with him. My cabinet was split; some championed Mark and his sexual politics, others thought he was the most dangerous threat to the US since the war of 1812, and should be assassinated. But that was illegal. I was the President of the United States, sworn to uphold the Constitution, sworn to obey the laws. I would not, could not, approve assassinating a US Citizen.

“Who’s on the phone?” I asked. The world had changed today. My new God, Brandon Fitzsimmons, had finally overthrown the false God Mark and was hunting down his wife, Mary.

“Him,” Eustace said with emphasis and I finally understood.

I snatched the phone from him. The moment Brandon had spoken during his press conference, it all became suddenly clear. Brandon was the true God and had soundly defeated the false one. No, Brandon wasn’t a God, he was the God.

My God.

“This is the President, my Lord,” I respectfully said.

I found myself to be suddenly nervous as I spoke to an actual God. I’ve spoken to almost every Head of State on the planet, knowing every time that I was more powerful than any of them. For the first time since I was elected President of the United States, I was the lesser power.

It was humbling.

“You shall fly to Tacoma with your cabinet and surrender the Country to me,” my God ordered.

“Absolutely, my Lord,” I answered. The phone clicked as my God hung up on me.

I was going to meet my God in person. I never thought it would happen while I was alive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mark Glassner

The beating seemed to go on for an eternity. An eternity of pain and suffering. This must be hell, I thought with bleak amusement. I sold my soul and my punishment was to be beaten by the followers of a man I wronged.

It was poetic.

I had used my powers for my own pleasures, not caring about the lives I hurt or destroyed. Mary was right to free our slaves, and to tell me not to break up relationships just because I was horny or feeling vindictive. I needed to be responsible with my powers.

I passed out sometime during the beating. The pain brought me back to consciousness. I lay on something hard, cold; the agony slowed my mind. I fought through the fog, struggling to move, to survey my surroundings. Metal clinked, digging into my wrists and ankles; they had manacled me hand and foot, and dumped me onto the floor of a jail cell. Two soldiers stood outside the bars, M16s grasped in their hands, uncaring eyes fixed on me, like I was an insect in a collection, pinned to a piece of cork.

My mouth was parched, and I spotted a sink. I struggled to move, desperate for water. The pain was excruciating just stretching my legs, the metal of the leg irons biting into my ankles, constricting my movement. I did not know why I was still alive. I think it was the Gift; a lesser man surely could not have survived. I grit my teeth, mustered the will to fight through the pain, and pulled myself across the rough floor. The metal sink was above me, and I tried to grab the rim with my right arm, momentarily forgetting the foot of steel manacling my wrists together. Grunting, I pushed myself up onto my knees, then grasped it with both hands, pulling myself up and staring at my reflection in the polished, stainless steel mirror.

My face was a bloody ruin, swollen so badly that I couldn’t recognize myself. I opened my mouth and saw the ruins of my teeth and inspected the damage: gums bleeding, shattered molars throbbing in pain, gaps where front teeth were missing. I was naked, I realized, except for the manacles biting into wrists and ankles. I didn’t even remember them stripping me naked, and blacks and blues and yellows covered my body. There didn’t seem to be any part of me that wasn’t bruised.

I cupped cold water in my hands, the chains rattling, and slowly sipped it tenderly, trying not to brush my swollen face. The shooting pain in my broken teeth increased as the cold water poured into my lips. I closed my eyes, and forced myself to keep drinking through the pain. I drank until my stomach felt ready to burst, then I stumbled to the cot.

We’ve landed in Kansas, Mary sent me as I curled up on the hard mattress, trying to get comfortable despite the metal restraining me.

Good. The beatings have stopped. I think I’m going to sleep.

I love you! Your filly is going to save you. There was such certainty in her voice.

I know you will. I sent with all the confidence I could muster to her, fighting back my despair. Mary was free. As long as she was, there was still hope. Love you.

All I could do was sleep. I was so exhausted. I closed my eyes and started to let sweet unconsciousness take me when I realized something. I had ignored my Gift, wanting nothing to do with the Heavenly Power. I could afford to ignore the power no longer. I concentrated, thinking of the Angel Azrael, as I drifted off into unconsciousness.

Summoning the Angel of Death to my dreams.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mary Glassner

I stepped off the 747. We were in an airport in the middle of nowhere, Kansas. It was a decommissioned airfield from the Cold War called Osage Field. It was used to service Atlas E Missile Silos before they were decommissioned. Exactly like the missile silo we bought that was only a few minutes drive from here. Our bolthole. We used George to purchase all of this, under the cover of his frequent business trips.

A burly man with an MP5 awaited us, along with several women. More burly men guarded the perimeter. The man was Duncan Barber, one of the SWAT officers that attacked us back in June. He wasn’t to blame for the attack; none of the SWAT officers were to blame. They were under the Nuns’ control. Three of them had died, but the other nine had lived. Mark gave them the choice to go to prison or he could fake their deaths and put them to work. They chose freedom and work. So Mark and I fixed their broken relationships – it was our fault that they were broken – and relocated them and their families out here.

“Ma’am,” Duncan said. His aura was black, fringed with red. Everyone at this airfield and the missile silo were bound to Mark by the Zimmah ritual. This place was just too important to let anyone know about it, unless they were bound to us.

“Is it as bad as it seems, ma’am?” Kathanne asked. She was Duncan’s wife.

“Yes,” I sighed.

“What are you going to do, ma’am?” Duncan asked as he escorted me to the waiting SUV.

“I don’t know,” I wearily said. Sam and I dug into her translation of the Book, looking for some way to neutralize Brandon’s powers, or break the control he was exerting on people.

“Shame we don’t have a Nun,” Duncan said. “Isn’t Warlocks what they specialize in defeating?”

I stopped, looking at him. That was it, we needed a Nun.

“Sam, you said there was a spell that would allow a Warlock to steal a Nun’s powers?” I asked, hope blossoming in my chest.

“Yes, ma’am. The, um, Ganubath ritual,” Sam answered. “You need to find a Nun and capture her.” A smile appeared on Sam’s face, but it quickly vanished. “Where are you going to find one, though?”

I grinned at her. I knew only one place in the world that you could find a Nun. “Fuel the plane!” I snapped. “We need to leave as soon as we cast the Naba ritual.” I glanced at Sam and she swallowed.

“I’ll get started right away, ma’am,” she answered, her face pale.

I would be scared, too. It was dangerous to summon the dead.

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 37.

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The Devil’s Pact Chapter Thirty-Three: The Calm Before the Storm

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Chapter 33: The Calm Before the Storm

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2013, 2014


Story Codes: Male/Teen female, Male/Female, Male/Females, Male/Female/Teen female, Female/Female, Hermaphrodite/Female, Mind Control, Magic, Incest, Exhibitionism, Oral, Romantic, Lactation, Wife, Wedded Lust, Voyeurism

For a list of all the Devil’s Pact Chapters and other stories click here

Comments are very welcome. I would like all criticism, positive and negative, so long as its
constructive, and feedback is very appreciated.



Click here for Chapter 32.



The Wedding, July 20th, 2013

The last three weeks since the SWAT attacked us and I nearly died seemed to fly by. And before I knew it, July 20th has finally arrived. The setting sun was warm and the breeze was cool. The air was filled with the sweet scent of the wildflowers. Mount Rainier reared up, impossibly huge this close to the peak, dominating the eastern sky. Even in summer, the top of Mount Rainier remained white and blue from its many glaciers. A small dome of clouds covered the top of the mountain. They were the only clouds in the sky.

Butterflies swirled in my stomach as we all waited on Mary.

I was wearing a black tux, a purple bow-tie choking my throat and a purple cummerbund cinched about my waist. The dress shoes pinched my toes. Mary chose purple to complement the flower arrangements, of all things. Oh well, the wedding was always about the bride, not the groom. My best man, Quatch, stood beside me. He had trimmed his beard and got a haircut for today, and the big guy looked almost handsome in his tux. Today was the only time I’ve ever seen clothes on him that actually fit. Beyond Quatch were my groomsmen: Chris, Tom, and Karl. All three wore matching tuxes, and the same unflattering bow-ties and cummerbunds that I wore. These four guys were my friends, we used to play D&D together. My life had just become too busy since the attack, though, for us to get together anymore.

What amazed me most about the last few weeks was that no disasters had happened. No nuns attacked us with armed men, no government agencies raided my house, no Lilith. Most importantly, no-one has died. Memories of Chasity flashed through my mind. I glanced at the seats where the sluts sat, wishing Chasity was with them. The sluts looked beautiful in their dresses. Korina sat smiling in a green dress. She was pregnant with my child, and she wasn’t the only one. Next to her, Violet and April were holding hands; both girls had learned they were pregnant in the days that followed the attack. Today Violet wore a cute, pink dress and April a cloud-blue, frilly thing. Jessica looked stunning in a black, tight dress as she sat next to Lillian who looked sexy as hell in an artfully-ripped, gauzy black dress. Xiu’s large breasts were positively spilling out of the flowery, pink dress she wore. I was glad Xiu chose to remain one of our sluts; she didn’t even hesitate when I freed her at the hospital. Alison and Desiree wore complimenting, purple dresses, their arms wrapped around each other. They had gotten married a week ago, the service performed by Daisy Cunningham at the Church of the Living Gods.

The Cunningham twins, Daisy and Rose, had become ordained ministers, the first for the growing religious movement that worshiped Mary and myself as gods. The Church of the Living Gods was the official name, but people called them Markites, Miraclists, and Glassnerians. The two sisters had been preaching from the beginning about what I had taught their family, inadvertently, that day in the Lowes garden section. “Love each other,” Rose would preach. “Demonstrate your love to each other. Do not let society tell you what is right and wrong when it comes to love. Do not be repressed by the antiquated morals of the religions of by-gone days. Follow the simple teaching of our Living Gods and just love each other!” The girls were passionate speakers and many responded to their message.

They had set up a large tent on the huge, empty lot behind our house where we had begun breaking ground on our mansion. Every night, hundreds gathered to hear the twins preach and participate in the worship orgy. And the Cunningham twins weren’t the only ones to rise to prominence in the church. Beth Philips, a woman I fucked in the restroom of a car dealership, had almost a saint-like presence in the church since she was pregnant with my child. They addressed her as ‘Blessed Mother,’ alongside Vivian Anders. Chasity and the other bodyguards that died during the attack were remembered as ‘The Holy Martyrs’ and pictures of them were hung about the tent.

After many of the worshipers begged to be married by Mary or myself, we both got ourselves ordained. It was really simple, we just had to fill out a form on the internet and we could perform legal marriages in the State of Washington for the Church of the Living Gods. The first couple I married was Earl and his sixteen-year-old daughter, Marylou. Not a legal marriage, yet, but many of the marriages performed at the church were not, technically, legal. Earl’s wife had died a few years ago and Marylou had started sharing his bed. Both quickly gravitated to the Church with its acceptance of all forms of love.

My mind drifted back to the ceremony as I waited on Mary. Earl’s daughter, Marylou, was a pretty girl. She had long, black hair that fell down to her waist and contrasted lovely with her simple, white dress. Her round, cherub-face was covered by a veil and her long legs were covered by white, fishnet stockings. As part of the marriage, I blessed the bride by bending her over the simple altar and pulling up her skirt. She wore no panties, a tenet of the Church, and her teenage cunt was covered by a neatly trimmed, black bush.

She held her fiancee-father’s hand as I entered her and she moaned in pleasure. Her cunt had been tight and I fucked her hard, pounding her cunt as she moaned in joy. “Fuck me, God!” she moaned. “Oh yes! Oh yes! Fuck me hard, my God!” She came on my cock when I filled her with my blessing. Smiling happily, she took her father’s hands and she spoke her vows as my cum ran out of her cunt, “I pledge before my Gods and all these witnesses to love and cherish my father, my husband, for as long as we both shall live.” Earl repeated back his vows, then I pronounced them husband and wife and they kissed before the happy congregation.

Mary and I have performed several weddings since. I married the Cunningham twins, blessing both of their tight, teenage cunts. Rachel, the woman we fucked on her honeymoon during our first trip to New York, showed up with Leah, our chauffeur from the same trip, and her husband, Jacob. Mary performed a joint wedding, marrying all three together. She blessed both brides with a strap-on. It turned out that Jacob and Rachel were both accountants and they were more than happy to manage our finances. Between our Charity and the Church donations, money was pouring in and I couldn’t be bothered to keep track of it. We had bought a limousine and Leah was thrilled to be our chauffeur again. We gave them an empty house to live in on our street and I bound them with the Zimmah ritual.

We had plenty of empty houses to choose from after the attack. We held our last meeting of the Naked Jogging Club the Friday after the attack. It was just too dangerous to be jogging out on the street. We were lucky the nuns didn’t attacks during one of our jogs. The girls were all sad and we had one last orgy in Madeleine’s living room. I ordered all the neighbors that I had let stay to move out, for their own safety. The only people living on Mountain View Court were our servants, bound by the Zimmah spell, and our families. We gave our Vizier, Sam, a house to share with her plaything, Candy, and gave Willow another house. Willow shared it with the three nurses and the receptionist that helped her run our charity clinic.

Mary and I started recruiting voluntary bodyguards who knew just what they were in for, a lifetime of serving us. Most were followers of our religious movement that traveled across the World to serve us. Each week, a new class of ten or so women were sent to the Pierce County Police Academy to be trained. Our bodyguard was down to thirty members, and once we had our willing recruits, we planned on giving them the same choice we gave the sluts, to stay or be set free. Other worshipers were recruited to provide maintenance for our plane and to be nurses in our clinic. When we started constructing our mansion, many of our worshipers volunteered their time and efforts in building the mansion. They felt so honored to build their God’s abode, we didn’t have the heart to tell them no.

For our friends and family whom we had given sex slaves to, we let them decide if they wanted to keep their slaves or give them the choice of freedom. My friends, Quatch, Chris, Karl, and Tom, elected to keep their slaves. As did Missy and her boyfriend, Damien. George and Shannon, on the other hand, freed Starla and to their surprise, she begged to stay on as their sex slave. My mom freed Joy, who quickly left, and Mary’s dad freed Felicity. She left, too, missing her family, but Sean and Tiffany didn’t seem to care. My little sister, Antsy, freed Via and then asked Via to be her girlfriend. Via happily said yes.

Our time since the attack has been busy. At our Charity’s first fundraiser, I announced my plans to run for state office and since them I’ve been giving interviews and and speeches. I had a number of issues that concerned me, the largest being gun control and crime. Everywhere I went, I would tell people to give up their weapons, to not do violence to each other. To just treat their fellow man with dignity. I had this great power and I was going to make the world a better place. I had other issues I championed as well: bigamy, decency laws, age of consent, prostitution, a balanced state budget, and state agencies spending tax money more wisely.

Desiree surprised us all when she admitted to working on a few campaigns in college, so I made her my campaign manager. With my power, running for office was all-too-easy. I was running unopposed, now. My opponents in the primary had been two Democrats, a Republican, a Libertarian, and a Constitutionalist who were all more than happy to drop out after meeting with me. Each gave me their ringing endorsements.

When I wasn’t giving speeches, I was giving interviews. To CNN, to Fox News, to MSNBC. All the talk shows – morning news, daytime talk, the late night shows – would send us requests for interviews. Jessica was our press secretary and handled all of it. Frankly, we just went were she sent us. Our first national talk show was the The Today Show. Mary and I flew to New York City the Sunday after the attack so we could be there bright and early Monday morning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Today Show Set, July 1st, 2013

“Everyone has seen the seemingly miraculous footage taken last Wednesday,” Matt Lauer said when the commercial-break ended.

Mary and I were sitting next to each other on plush, white-leather chairs as Matt Lauer introduced us. Matt Lauer sat across from us, on the other side of the large window where the crowds gathered outside to hold up signs and get seen on TV. Sitting next to Matt Lauer was the beautiful Savannah Guthrie, a broad smile on her freckled face. Her honey-brown hair was styled to be light and curly as it fell about her shoulders. Her blouse was dark gray and sleeveless, almost a vest, that was cut just low enough to show a hint of her freckled bosom.

“With us today, is Mark Glassner and his fiancee, Mary Sullivan,” Matt Lauer finished.

“Hey Matt,” I said, trying to suppress my nervousness. My palms were sweaty, and I could just feel the moisture building in my armpits. Outside, the crowd at the windows cheered loudly, a muffled roar that could be just heard through the glass.

Mary sat cross-legged in one of her sultry dresses, dark blue today. Her freckled cleavage was on display, and most of her beautiful thighs. Her auburn hair was styled to fall about her shoulder in beautiful, dark-red waves that set off her emerald eyes. She smiled, her beautiful dimples appearing on her cheeks. “It’s great to be here,” Mary answered back. She sounded so relaxed. Was she not nervous at all?

“The footage is almost unbelievable,” Savannah Guthrie said, crossing her legs. Her skirt was longer than Mary’s, but her beautiful calves were on display.

“Well, it’s most certainly not a hoax,” I said, trying to smile. “It hurt when I got shot.” That brought a chuckle from Matt and a beautiful laugh from Savannah.

“And that light, what was that?” Savannah pressed. “Did you really get healed by a miracle?”

“Mary and I, both, have powers,” I answered. “And I used those powers to heal myself.” A lie, but Jessica advised us to keep out the consorting-with-demons part.

“Show us something,” Matt Lauer said, a skeptical smile on his lips. “I would love to see your powers.”

Sam had taught us a few new spells. A lot of the magics in the book were stuff I’ve seen stage magicians perform. The type of magics that probably awed the people in ancient times. I concentrated and uttered a single word, “Uwph,” while I imagined I was rising up in the air. I floated up and Matt jumped and Savannah’s eyes widened in surprise. I floated a few feet forward and hovered in the middle of the studio. I could see the crowd outside watching in astonishment. A few, the ones with signs proclaiming me a God, fell to their knees.

Matt stood, his eyes shaken, and walked around me, swinging his arms about my body. He was searching for wires, I realized. His stood up on his tiptoes, straining to pass his arms over my head. “How are you doing that?”

“I have powers,” I answered, floating back to my chair and sitting down without my feet touching the ground. The floating spell required constant concentration, and really wasn’t worth the effort. But it sure was impressive.

“Well, um,” Savannah Guthrie stammered, trying to gather her wits. “People say you are a God. There are people gathering in front of your house. Footage of their, um, worship, and I use that term loosely, has been making the rounds on the internet. They call it worship, but it looks like a, well, frankly, an orgy.”

Mary smiled. “Savannah, Mark and I preach that love should be freely expressed in all its forms. There shouldn’t be any stigma attached to sex. There’s nothing wrong with two people having sex, right?”

“No,” Savannah answered, frowning.

“Then there shouldn’t be anything wrong with people having sex in public,” Mary finished.

Savannah nodded her head, and Matt answered, “I guess when you put it that way, there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with it.”

“No, people should be free to find their pleasure wherever they want to, even if they’re related,” I said, staring boldly at Savannah, who flushed. I saw Mary smile next to me and shake her head. I knew just what she was thinking. She always was amused by my sex drive. But, when you wish for unlimited stamina, you might as well get some use out of it.

“People claim you use a gas to make them do what you want,” Matt Lauer said, continuing the interview. “Any truth to that?”

“No, people just like to follow our suggestions,” I said. “Your producer had us searched by the NYPD to see if we had any gas canisters or anything.”

“We did,” Savannah Guthrie interjected. “There were no suspicious gas canisters or anything.”

“So people just do what you tell them?” Matt Lauer asked, disbelief in his voice.

“How about a demonstration?” Mary asked.

“Sure,” Matt Lauer challenged. “Make us do something that we wouldn’t normally do.”

“Savannah, suck Mark’s cock,” Mary ordered.

Savannah Guthrie’s freckled cheeks were crimson red as she walked over and knelt before me. I reached over and grabbed Mary’s hand, giving her a thankful squeeze. She was such a caring fiancee, always attentive to my needs. Savannah’s hand reached out and unfastened my pants, pulling the zipper down. The crowd outside was cheering. They all heard our commands; no one would think this was weird or wrong.

Unfortunately, Matt Lauer didn’t think it was weird anymore, either. “What does that prove?” he asked, dismissively.

Mary blinked in surprise, then realized what we had just told him and everyone else who was watching The Today Show live. And it had to be live. Our powers didn’t seem to work if we recorded our commands. But a live broadcast, and we made sure it was live with the producers and not on a delay, that worked just fine. Just like talking on the phone.

I could see on the monitors behind the camera that they were getting a good close-up of Savannah Guthrie’s mouth as she engulfed my cock. Her tongue swirled around my cock deliciously. “She’s pretty good,” I moaned.

I glanced at Mary, her lips pursed as she stared at Matt Lauer. His disdain was starting to irritate her. “Well, Matt, how about you quit being the host of The Today Show and let Natalie Morales host in your place. She’s far prettier than you.”

“That is a great idea,” Matt Lauer answered, motioning to Natalie Morales. She was a beautiful, Latina woman with long, black hair. “I’ve had a good time as the co-anchor of The Today Show, but I feel the time has come for me to leave the show.”

Matt Lauer hugged Natalie Morales and kissed her on the cheek and walked off, and she sat down in his chair, confusion painting her face. “Well, Matt, take care, you will be missed,” Natalie Morales said, uncertainly. The producer walked over to Matt and they had a heated conversation behind the cameras.

“You are very pretty,” Mary told Natalie Morales. “Why don’t you show the world just how pretty those tits are.”

“And you’re just gorgeous, Mary,” Natalie Morales said with a smile as she started to unbutton her mauve, silk blouse. “I bet you have some pretty breasts as well, Mary.” Mary’s power to make any woman desire her was having the predictable effect on Natalie.

Savannah Guthrie was sliding her mouth up and down on my cock. I ran my hand through her honey-brown hair as I watched Mary stand up, reach behind her back, and unzip her dress. The shy girl that had blushed so furiously when she first stripped naked in the Starbucks had been replaced by this confidant woman, unashamed to show off her gorgeous body to the world. I admired her perky, freckled breasts tipped with dusky nipples. Her pubic hair had been waxed away, save for a small heart of fiery hair above her pussy.

Natalie Morales smiled, licking her lips, as her blouse fell open. Her large breasts were cradled by a silky, gray bra. Natalie Morales reached behind her and unclasped the bra, and shrugged out of her blouse and bra with one smooth motion. Her breasts were large, sagging just a bit, and topped with huge, dark areolas and hard nipples.

“You may be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” Natalie Morales breathed to Mary.

Mary smiled, and crooked her finger at Natalie Morales. The beautiful woman walked across the room to Mary, who kissed her passionately on the lips. Natalie Morales was breathing hard when Mary broke their kiss, and my fiancee sat down on her chair and spread her legs wide-open. “Pleasure me,” Mary commanded.

Natalie Morales knelt down and hesitantly licked at Mary’s slit. I felt my balls boiling as Natalie Morales started licking more confidently at Mary’s pussy. Mary moaned her encouragement, her right hand pinching her left nipple. Savannah’s sucking mouth was bringing me closer and closer to orgasming. I gripped her hair with a tight grip, and held her mouth in place.

“Swallow it, Savannah!” I moaned as I shot my cum into her mouth. I could feel her swallowing, sucking the last of the cum out of my balls. I released her head and she stood up. “Let’s give her a big cheer!” I urged the crowd outside and they were all screaming and shouting. A few of the women flashed their boobs as they got into the spirit of things.

Savannah Guthrie licked some cum off of her lips and waved to the crowd, her freckled face flushed, and a huge smile gracing her lips. She sat back down on her chair, adjusting her blouse, and looked at me. Being a consummate professional, she continued the interview as if she hadn’t just been sucking my cock, “So, not only have you founded a religious movement, but you’re running for public office. A State Representative for your home State of Washington?”

“Yeah,” I said with a smile, and went through the issues that concerned me. Mary spent the time writhing in pleasure in her chair as Natalie Morales devoured her cunt. Mary’s perky breasts heaved as her body shook from her orgasm and she let out a low, throaty moan. I was just finishing talking about my take on marriage, that anyone should be allowed to marry anyone else, even multiple anyones, when Mary finished cumming.

“Umm, she’s done that before,” Mary purred as Natalie Morales stood up. A producer came out and handed Natalie Morales a towel to wipe the pussy juices off her face. Mary just crossed her legs, not bothering to put her dress back on, and started answering questions about our Charity, the Women’s Health Organization for Reproductive Empowerment.

That Today Show interview created a firestorm of controversy. Everyone who watched the broadcast live didn’t see what the problem was, but those on the West Coast, where it was shown on tape delay, were disgusted. Family values groups and feminist groups were up in arms. The larger the controversy grew, the more and more shows wanted to interview us. Mary and I gave more and more interviews, and more and more of our critics were starting to agree with us. The President of the Council of Family Values and his wife appeared on Megan Kelly’s show to debate us. By the end, the President was fucking his wife up the ass while she ate out Megan’s pussy on National TV.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Wedding, July 20th, 2013

What was taking Mary so long I wondered, as I stood before the crowd. These dress shoes were pinching my toes and I was starting to sweat in my jacket. I glanced back to the bridal tent where Mary and her bridesmaids were gathered, wishing they would hurry up. I was eager to see my sweet filly walking up the aisle in her beautiful dress.

I had already seen her in the dress. We spent an hour taking the wedding photos earlier today. And Mary looked stunning in her dress. It was snow-white, of course, with a lacy bodice. The lace wrapped around her torso, ending at the skirt, which was made of all these layers of ruffles that gave her skirt this bell shape. Her veil covered her whole head, draping across her shoulders and cleavage and she carried a bouquet of white and pink flowers, with a few purple flowers here and there for a splash of vibrancy. The same flowers lined the aisle on plinths and more petals were strewn across a white carpet that had been laid down over the field.

Our friends and families were seated on plastic, folding chairs. I had spent the last week talking to all our guests on the phone, making sure that there wouldn’t be any issues. I gave them a few, simple commands: to find any sex that they might witness to be perfectly normal, to be open to having sex at the reception, and to not feel any jealousy if their spouse or significant other chose to indulge themselves. Once they returned home, they would return to their normal behavior and remember the wedding fondly. With Mary’s family, I had to prepare them for Tiffany’s return, and that she looked eighteen now. Our bodyguards, led by 51, searched all of our guests and the staff for any weapons, just in case a nun had gotten to them. There were a still a few out there, maybe five left in the whole world, but that was enough to cause plenty of mischief.

Mary’s side was far more crowded than mine. She had quite the extended family it turned out. With a number of aunts, uncles, and cousins, and both sets of grandparents. Her father, alone, had five other brothers and sisters all of whom had kids. And a number of those female cousins were quite the lookers and I was excited to get to know a few of them more intimately during the reception. On top of that, Mary had a lot of friends from high school that showed up.

My side had my dad’s brother, Uncle Aaron, and his wife Dee and their two kids, Aaron Jr. and Laura. Next to my cousin, Laura, was her husband who held their infant daughter, Astrid. My mom’s family consisted of my grandma, my fat Aunt Toni and her teenage sons, Ray and Bobby. We seated the sluts on my side to make it look a little less one-sided, along with Cynthia and Vivian. It was nice to see the other two girls I fucked that morning in the Starbucks where I met Mary. My only friends were standing up with me as my best man and groomsmen.

I caught Tiffany’s eyes and I looked away. I still hadn’t forgiven Mary’s mother for getting Chasity and six of my bodyguards killed. Mary and I had a huge fight when she wanted me to go to her parents’ wedding last week. Mary may have forgiven her mother, but I doubt I ever could. All the other bodyguards had made a full recovery thanks to the Tsariy spell that Sam found in the Magicks of the Witch of Endor.

When she told us about a spell that could heal all but death, Mary insisted on healing Alice with it right away. After being shot, the doctors did what they could for Alice, but one round had entered through her throat as she fell and lodged in her brain and the doctors did not expect her to ever wake up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Good Samaritan Hospital, July 4th, 2013

The limousine pulled up at the entrance to Good Sam hospital. We were here to heal Alice. Leah was driving. I was so happy that Rachel and Leah moved out here. I had a lot of fun with the two girls that weekend we spent in New York City and I was happy to see that they made their three-way relationship work. They were so cute together when I married the three of them last night. Jacob, their husband, positively beamed with a pretty girl on each of his arms who wanted to be his wife.

I was so excited to heal Alice. I had been so racked with guilt for what happened to Alice and I was so relieved to find out there was a way to heal her. I don’t know how neither Mark nor I had even thought to ask Sam if there was a healing spell in the Book before this morning. My only excuse was that it had been a busy week. We had to fly out to New York City for two days, where we gave several interviews. The most interesting one, of course, was The Today Show and that had produced quite the commotion. I guess getting oral sex from two famous people on national television would cause that.

Yesterday we had three funerals to attend. There was Chasity’s funeral in the morning, then 05′s funeral, whose real name was Dove Atterberry, at noon. The third funeral for Lucy Garnet, 63, was held last night. And today we had two more funerals to attend: Fawn Avery, 34, and Friuza Rostami, 78. Tomorrow would be the final two funerals: for Jeannette Kerry, 22, and Sasithorn Metharom, 30.

Leah held the door open, wearing her short, black skirt, fishnet stockings, and a white bustier that displayed her large breasts beautifully, and the blue and red tie that dangled between the slopes of her breasts looked so cute. She wore a small, black jacket and a chauffeur’s cap. Mark slid out, then held out his hand to help me up. Our bodyguards, 51 and seven others, formed up around us as we walked through the hallway.

Mark and the bodyguards waited outside Alice’s room as I slipped in. She looked so sad, lying on the bed. Bandages wrapped about her neck, a tube down her throat, and every few seconds the mechanical wheeze of the artificial lung pumping air into her would fill the room. IVs and sensors dotted her body. Dean, her husband, sat next to her, clutching her hand. He was wearing a rumpled T-shirt and sweatpants. He looked like hell, eyes baggy and blood-shot, his face covered in ragged, black whiskers.

“Hey, Mary,” he sadly greeted me. He had been by her side ever since she got shot; guilt stabbed at my heart. He still loved her and didn’t know that Alice was cheating on him with me, and with her yoga instructor before that. He also didn’t know that she was preparing to divorce him, wanting to run off with me. I didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth. Until this morning, we all thought that she was never going to wake up.

“Hey, Dean,” I answered. “Everything’s going to be alright.”

“They’re asking me to pull the plug,” Dean replied with hollow eyes. “I don’t know what to do.”

“It will be okay,” I told him and grasped Alice’s hand.

I concentrated on her being healthy, on her being whole. According to Sam, anyone could do this spell, you just had to believe it would work. I knew it would, I had seen too much magic to not know. I concentrated as hard as I could on Alice being healed, and whispered, “Tsariy.” Energy rushed out of me, into Alice, and a scarlet light enveloped her. The world swam about me and I felt dizzy, and then I was falling backwards.

“Mare!” Mark shouted in alarm. I felt his strong hands holding my arms and I realized that he had caught me. The Gift my mother gave him, her nun powers, had given Mark quick reflexes. I smiled up at him, feeling exhausted, and told him, “I’m fine, Mark. Thanks.”

Mark helped me back on my feet and kissed me on the forehead. He was so sweet. I leaned against his solid frame. The healing spell took a lot out of you. The more the person was hurt, the more that was wrong that you had to fix, the more energy it took out of you. I felt like I just had run a marathon. With a backpack full of bricks. Uphill the entire way.

Dean had jumped up and was staring at me in astonishment. “What did you do?”

Alice started choking, bolting upright. Her hands scrabbled to grab the breathing tube shoved down her throat. She gripped the plastic hose and pulled it, gagging and coughing the whole time. She breathed, hoarsely, as she flung the tube away and had another coughing fit. Dean grabbed her, hugging his wife tightly to his chest. There were tears running down his face as he stared gratefully at me.

“Dean?” Alice asked. She sound tired and confused. “What’s going on?”

“You were shot, dear,” he whispered. “You’ve been in a coma for a week. And Mary…she healed you.”

“What, Mary?” Alice glanced around and her hazel eyes met mine. Her cheeks flushed with color and a smile grew on her lips. But the smile quickly faded and her eyes narrowed in anger and jealousy as she realized who was supporting me. Mark was right, I was blind to her feelings. They were as plain as day.

“Dean, I need to talk to Alice, can you wait outside?” I asked. “You too, Mark.”

“You’re okay, right?” Mark asked, concern on his face. I nodded, and he kissed my cheek. “All right, Mare.”

“I’ll be right outside, dear,” Dean told Alice and squeezed her hand. The two men left the room.

Alice looked down at her body, at the IV and sensors. She reached out to take my hand and smiled when I gripped it. “What happened? I had this dream that I shot Mark and…” She trailed off, frowning at me. She must have seen something in my face, some flicker of emotion at the memory of Mark getting shot by Alice. “Oh God, that happened?”

I took a deep breath. “I need to apologize to you Alice.” She started to interrupt me and I placed my finger over her mouth. “Let me just talk, okay.” When she nodded her head, I explained to her all about our powers and our enemies and how she was used as a weapon to try and kill us. A bewildered expression slowly filled her face as I spoke. “Alice, I wanted to have one normal friend, one person not caught up in all of this. So, I didn’t take the steps to protect you. I did not think our enemies could do anything to you. I’m so very sorry, Alice.”

“I don’t know what to say, Mary. This is just so…crazy.” Alice gave a shriek when I rose up into the air. It was the same spell Mark used on The Today Show. I didn’t stay up too long, I was tired from healing her and was having trouble maintaining the concentration, and landed rather hard and I had to catch myself on the railing of her hospital bed. “How did you do that?”

“Magic,” I told her, then took a deep breath. “Do you still love Dean?”

She frowned. “What?”

“Dean spent the last week sitting by your side,” I told her. “He loves you a lot. So, do you love him, still?”

“I don’t know.” Alice gave a shake of her head. “I love you, Mary.”

“I love you like a friend, like a sister,” I explained as gently as possible, “but I love Mark. So, you have the choice, you can choose to stay with Dean, who loves you, and try and work out your problems, or you can continue to pine after me.” I kissed her on the forehead and walked out of the room.

Dean went back into the room and I could see them talking through the glass before I leaned against Mark and we marched down a few doors to Xiu’s room. Xiu looked so tiny on her hospital bed; she was sleeping peacefully, her round face relaxed. Unlike Alice, she didn’t have a respirator to breath for her. Mark walked up to her and took her hand and she woke up and smiled up at him. He whispered a word, and healed her.

She gasped loudly as the scarlet light enveloped her, bolting upright in the bed. When the light faded, the color was back in her round cheeks and her almond eyes were wide with amazement. The IV that had been in her arm had been forced out of her flesh. Xiu ripped off the various sensors, triggering all sorts of annoying alarms, and threw her arms around Mark. “Oh, thank you, thank you, Master!”

Mark stroked her face. “Xiu, I’m going to free you from my control for the next twenty-four hours. I want you to decide if you want to be our slut. Or, if you do not want to be our slut, I will free you.”

Confusion appeared on Xiu’s face as she was released from Mark’s control. She frowned, looking at us, then stood up from the bed and walked over to the plastic bag on the counter that contained her personal effects. She stripped out of her hospital gown; her petite, olive-skinned body was beautiful. Her skin was flawless, her ass firm and slim, and her huge breasts swayed as she moved, topped with dark nipples. She fished around in the bag and pulled out her nipple piercings. She frowned, trying to stick the piercing through her nipple.

“I’m not pierced anymore,” she whispered in surprise.

“I guess I healed you too well,” Mark grinned.

Xiu laughed and pulled out her gold choker with her name written in emeralds, and clasped it about her throat. “I am yours,” she answered and bent over the foot of her hospital bed, grasped her butt-cheeks and spread them, exposing her tight asshole. “Fuck my ass, Master. Hard!” A broad smile appeared on her lips. “Make it hurt, Master!”

“And what about me?” I pouted as Mark was moving behind her.

“I would love to eat your pussy, Mistress,” Xiu said, licking her lush lips. “I am your sex slave. Use and abuse me for your pleasure.”

Xiu gasped loudly in pain as Mark fucked her ass. He had roughly shoved his cock into her unlubed ass. Lust shined in Xiu’s eyes; the slut loved to be hurt, got off on it. I climbed on the bed, spread my legs and felt some of my exhaustion melt away as Xiu’s tongue lapped at my slit. She buried her face in my snatch, her nose bumping my clit, her fingers spreading my lips open as she dug her tongue furiously inside me.

“Oh fuck, that’s nice, slut!” I moaned. I caught Mark’s blue eyes and he smiled at me as he pounded her tight ass. “Eat my pussy! Yes, yes, that’s so fucking nice.” I gasped as Xiu shoved two fingers up my tight pussy.

I watched as Xiu’s ass jiggled as Mark’s groin slapped into her cheeks, filling the room with the slap of flesh. I grabbed Xiu’s black hair with one hand and pulled her face tight against my cunt as my hips writhed in pleasure. Mark was thrusting harder into her ass, pushing Xiu’s face into my pussy as he bottomed out in her ass.

“Your ass is fucking tight, slut!” Mark moaned. “I love fucking your slutty ass!”

Xiu moaned happily into my pussy. “Are you going flood this naughty slut’s ass, Mark?” I laughed.

“I am, Mare!” Mark panted.

I could feel my orgasm building inside me. Skillfully fueled by Xiu’s lips and fingers. Her tongue fluttered at my clit as her fingers slid along my tight sheathe. I groaned, my back arching, as Xiu sucked my little pearl between her lips and curled her fingers just right. My orgasm exploded out of me as the little slut found my G-Spot and I splattered her face with my girl-cum.

“Oh fuck, that was great, slut!” I moaned.

“I’m so happy, Mistress,” Xiu answered from between my thighs. “Master’s cock feels so amazing in my ass! Umm, I’m going to cum, Master! Ohhh, thank you, thank you for making me cum!”

“Fucking slut!” Mark groaned and slammed his cock into her, his face contorted in pleasure as he flooded her ass with his cum. “God damn, that was good, slut!”

Mark pulled out of her ass and I rested back on Xiu’s bed. Xiu turned around and quickly knelt down and started cleaning Mark’s cock off like a good slut. Mark stroked her black hair and smiled at me. Our Xiu stayed and Alice was healed. I wanted to hold onto this happy feeling as long as I could.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Wedding, July 20th, 2013

I was freaking out.

“Where’s my locket?” I asked, as grabbed at my throat for the third time, desperately feeling for the gold chain. I knew that it wasn’t there, I had already felt twice, but rational thoughts like that were hard to hang onto when you’re in a panic. Somehow, my locket had slipped off from around my neck. It was heart-shaped, made of silver, with a pink rose sculpted onto the front. I couldn’t lose it. Mark gave it to me that first day I met him. For the last fifteen minutes, my bridesmaids and I had been tearing the bridal tent apart trying to find it. I needed it. I couldn’t leave the tent and walk down the aisle without it!

My older sister Shannon was digging through a box while Antsy and Missy were searching the floor of the bridal tent. I needed to stay calm. If I started crying, my mascara would run and I would look like a frightful mess on my wedding day. “Please, please, please!” I begged over and over, fighting back the tears.

“Here it is!” Alice shouted in triumph. I sighed in relief as my maid-of-honor held up the silver locket. “It fell behind the chair.”

After I healed Alice that day, she had talked with her husband, Dean. She confessed her adultery to him. “I felt so guilty that I had been such a bad wife while Dean was being all attentive and loving since I got hurt,” Alice had later told me. “I just wanted to drive him away so I could wallow in my misery. Only, when I told him that I cheated on him, he was hurt, but he didn’t leave. For the first time, since, well, since forever, I guess, we talked. And it was nice.” They were in marriage counseling now, trying to work through their problems.

The news of Alice’s healing spread through the hospital and soon it was all over the news. And not just Alice’s healing, Mark cured Xiu and half the bodyguards that were still in the hospital before he was too tired. For the last two Thursdays, Mark and I have been healing the sick at Good Sam. It was nice to finally do something good and selfless with our powers.

Alice handed me the locket and I put it around my neck and secured the clasp. I do not know how it fell off my neck, the clasp seemed to be just fine. I was just so very relieved to feel it dangling between my breasts again, that I didn’t care why it fell off. I lowered my veil and took a deep breath. “Okay, let’s get this started.”

Missy popped her head out the tent flap then ducked back in, smiling. “Umm, maybe in a few minutes, Mary.”

I frowned and wondered what Mark was doing? Then an amused smile crossed my lips. No, I should be wondering who Mark was doing. I considered the candidates. One of the sluts, maybe? Or was it Rose Cunningham who was officiating our wedding? Or maybe his mother, Sandy? Certainly not my mom. Mark was still angry with her over Chasity’s death. I missed Chasity, too, but my mom was used by the other side and she felt so guilty over all the deaths she caused.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mountain View Court Estates, June 29th, 2013

I slipped out of the house, leaving Mark and our sluts that chose to stay to continue with their orgy. I was glad that most of our sluts stayed but I would miss Fiona, Thamina, and Noel. It was the right thing to do, however. I should have insisted weeks ago, but I was too caught up in the thrill of the power to make someone do whatever you wanted.

I walked naked down Mountain View Court, wearing only a pair of flip-flops. I could hear the music from our worshipers waiting out on the street corner. I didn’t know what to make of that development. Mark clearly found being worshiped too amazing to pass up. But, it just didn’t feel right, to be worshiped. We weren’t Gods. We had powers, sure, but anyone who was willing to pay the price could have them.

Then I had stepped out of the car and heard all those people chanting my name. I shivered, it was so intoxicating. I could feel the love of a hundred people. I bit my lip as I thought about that feeling. It’s not like we ordered them to worship us, I told myself. We never said we were Gods. We just didn’t correct them. And if it made those people happy to worship us, maybe it wasn’t right to take that away from them.

I put those thoughts away as I reached my parent’s house. They lived three houses down from Mark and I. This used to be the Gomez house, I think, before Mark made them sell their house. I pushed open the door and walked in. “Hello,” I called as I wandered around the house. Where was everyone? Missy and Damien lived here, along with their two sex slaves and Felicity, dad’s sex slave.

I heard splashes and I wandered to the back of the house. Missy and Damien and the sex slaves were splashing around in the pool, naked. They were playing Marco Polo, I realized, with Damien blindfolded, trying to find the girls.

“Marco!” he yelled.

“Polo!” the girls yelled back, splashing away from him as he lunged. He caught Dawn, Missy’s sex slave, by the foot and dragged the laughing, blonde girl to him. She hugged Damien and kissed him, wrapping her legs about his waist. Damien started to fuck her; I guess that was the reward for winning.

“Missy, where’s mom and dad?” I asked.

Missy swam to the side of the pool, her budding breasts just visible above the lip of the pool, water beading on her tits. “Upstairs,” she said, rolling her eyes. “They’ve been up there most of the day.”

“Well, have fun,” I said with a grin. Dawn was moaning like a banshee as Damien fucked her.

I went back into the house and walked upstairs. I knocked on my Dad’s bedroom door and then went inside. They were in bed together, cuddling. My dad looked so happy as he glanced up at me and Mom was flushed and smiling, her blonde hair draped across Dad’s chest.

“I see you two are getting along,” I said archly.

Mom’s face grew more red. “We had a lot of time to make up.”

“What can we do for you, Mary?” Dad asked.

“I need to bind Mom,” I answered, walking towards them.

Dad grinned and patted the bed next to him. I climbed on, pressing my naked body against Dad and kissing him on the lips. Mom reached out and, hesitantly, touched my breast. Her finger ran gently along the slope up to my hard nipple. I shivered in pleasure as her finger grazed my hard nipple. I broke the kiss with Dad and leaned over his body and kissed my mom on the lips.

“Are we really going to make love to our daughter?” Mom asked, sounding unsure.

“I need to fuck dad for the Zimmah ritual, Mom,” I answered. “Besides, you two haven’t fucked Missy yet? I’m surprised the little minx hasn’t already barged on in.”

Mom glanced at Dad, her eyebrows raised. Dad coughed. “Well, Missy was just so persistent, and I had already fucked Mary and Shannon. So, it just seemed fair, Tif,” Dad answered, lamely.

Mom drew in a deep breath. “This isn’t the family reunion I thought it would be.”

I grasped my mom’s perky boob. Mom had a cup size on me and I was a little jealous. I tweaked her nipple and said with a grin, “But it’ll be a lot of fun.”

Mom relaxed as I played with her nipple then a naughty twinkle appeared in her blue eyes. “I guess it will be.” Mom kissed me back, this time her lips soft and gentle. I tilted my head and let her tongue slip into my mouth. I felt Mom’s hand on my breast again, squeezing me and rubbing my nipple.

“That was hot,” Dad moaned as we broke the kiss.

Mom laughed and I slid my hands beneath the cover to find him hard, his cock sticky. “Did you just fuck Mom?”

“Yes,” Dad smiled proudly. “A couple of times. We’re like teenagers again.”

“Well, one of you is a teenager again,” I laughed. The benefit of the Gift made one young and beautiful or, in the case of a man, young and ripped. I was enjoying the new Mark. I loved Mark when he was flabby, but Mark with all his muscles was just yummy. Just like Karen, even though Mom wasn’t a nun anymore, she kept the youth and beauty and looked eighteen.

I pushed the covers back to expose his hard dick rising out of the forest of red hair. I moved down and licked his shaft, tasting my mom’s spicy flavor. It was similar to my flavor, but without the sweetness. Dad moaned in appreciation and then Mom’s tongue was licking with me. Our tongues brushed as we cleaned his cock. I kissed my mom around Dad’s cock, tasting his salty pre-cum.

“Oh fuck, that’s amazing,” Dad moaned. “My hot wife and hot daughter are sucking my cock! I’m so damned lucky.”

“Umm, Dad, you feel ready,” I panted, sitting up. “Sit on Dad’s face, Mom.”

I straddled Dad, guiding his hard cock to my wet cunt as Mom slid up to sit on his face. Her blonde bush was messy with her juices and Dad’s cum. Dad didn’t seem to mind, though, and Mom moaned as he ate her pussy out. I sighed in satisfaction as I felt my dad’s cock fill me all the way up. Mom grinned happily at me and I realized just how much alike we looked. I leaned in and kissed the blonde version of myself.

I loved the feel of Dad’s cock inside me. It was the last chance for me to fuck him for awhile. My period should start tomorrow, and then I was going off the pill so Mark and I could have our own child. I was jealous of Korina for beating me to the punch. I rode Dad faster, enjoying his cock rubbing against the sensitive sheathe of my pussy and Mom’s tongue probing my mouth. I gripped her blonde hair and devoured her lips.

My orgasm was building quickly as I slammed up and down on Dad. My mom broke the kiss and she bent down and started sucking at my nipple. “Oh, fuck, that’s nice, Mom!” Her tongue swirled about my nipple, and then she would suck and nibble. Mom sure knew how to please a woman. I cradled my mom’s head to my breast as my orgasm crashed through me. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I moaned as I kept fucking Dad.

“Umm, was that a nice one, sweety?” Mom asked.

I smiled and nodded and I bent down to suck on my mom’s nipple. I teased her nipple, gently brushing it with my tongue as she writhed atop Dad’s face. Then I sucked the hard nub into my lips, enjoying the feel of her fat nipple on my lips.

“Oh my baby’s sucking at my breast again,” Mom moaned, stroking my cheeks. “Oh yes, that feels so lovely. How I missed you, Mary.” Her body trembled as she came on Dad’s lips.

Dad lasted a long time inside me. He didn’t have Mark’s recuperative powers and it took him awhile to cum. But Mom and I had a few more orgasms before then as we enjoyed Dad. We kissed each other and played with each other’s breasts. Dad moaned loudly into Mom’s cunt as his cock flooded my pussy with his sperm and the feel of my Dad’s cum flooding my pussy triggered another orgasm. This one wasn’t as intense as the others, but fluttered pleasantly through my body.

I rolled off Dad, my legs sore, and I enjoyed the warm, wet feeling of Dad’s cum in my pussy. “You need to eat me out, Mom,” I told her. “To complete the spell.”

“Sure, sweety,” Mom smiled, and slid between my legs.

I could feel Mom’s breath warm on my pussy as she lowered her face. “Zimmah,” I whispered as she took her first swipe of the incestuous mess between my thighs. I felt the energy flow from Dad into the two of us.

“Oh, wow,” Mom breathed. “We’ll be together, forever, won’t we?”

“Yeah, Mom,” I smiled as she dug her lips into my pussy and began to eat me out. “One happy family, forever.”

“Forever,” Dad whispered and then he leaned over and kissed me and I tasted Mom’s delicious pussy on his lips. Forever with Mark and my family and our sluts, I thought happily as Mom’s sucking lips brought me to a delicious orgasm.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Wedding, July 20th, 2013

I glanced at Rose as I waited. She was officiating our wedding, and the teenager was wearing a simple, black dress, that was very low cut and I found myself admiring her cleavage. She had a nice, round pair of breasts that filled out the bodice very nicely. Rose saw my stare and flushed happily, her hand playing with the end of her long, golden braid.

“Are you wearing panties?” I asked Rose.

The fifteen year old beamed at me. “Of course not, my Lord. I follow all the teachings.” Rose’s fingers pulled up the hem of her skirt, exposing her blonde bush. “Panties should only be worn to excite your lover or when your period is upon you. Otherwise, a pussy should be free and ready to be entered,” Rose quoted.

“You definitely look ready to be entered,” I smiled.

Rose bent over the altar, holding her skirt up, exposing her tight, teenage ass. “I am ready for my Lord’s pleasure.”

“Jesus,” Quatch muttered, earning a glare from Rose. “Wish I was a God.”

I grinned at Quatch as I moved behind Rose and unzipped my pants. The audience was growing restless as the wait for Mary dragged on, and no-one objected to what I was doing, thanks to my commands. A few watched with interest and Alison gave me a thumbs up and then started kissing her new wife, Desiree.

“Oh my God!” Rose moaned as I entered her tight pussy. I caught her sister-wife, Daisy’s, envious face as she watched her twin getting fucked. Daisy and Rose drew straws to see who would get to officiate our wedding and Daisy was clearly disappointed that she lost. Rose continued moaning, “Fuck me, my Lord! Oh, fuck my juicy cunt!”

I pounded her tight cunt hard and fast and grabbed her blonde braid and pulled her head back. Her face was in profile, her eyes closed tight with pleasure, her mouth wide open as she moaned and panted. I saw movement at the bridal tent, Missy popped her head out for a moment before she ducked back in. I yanked hard on Rose’s braid as I really started to slam into her cunt hard and fast.

“Yes, yes! Fuck my naughty pussy!” Rose was screaming. “Oh, yes! I love your cock, my Lord. Your big, hard cock is making my unworthy cunt feel so good! I’m gonna cum, my Lord!”

Rose’s back arched as she came, her hips slamming back into me, and I enjoyed the silky grip of her cunt milking my cock. I groaned, feeling my balls starting to boil. I thrust harder into her teenage pussy, griping her slim hips as I drove my cock rapidly in and out of her. My balls boiled over with lust and I filled her young cunt full of my cum. I pulled out of Rose and she pulled her skirt back down her ass, a happy smile painted on her face.

The band started playing as I put my cock away. Finally, I thought in relief. Two of Mary’s cousins, a pair of adorable, five-year-old twins, Matti and Drew, walked out. They were the flower-girl and ring-bearer, respectively. Matti looked so cute as she walked forward, throwing more flowers on the aisle with a dignified air spoiled only by her cute smile. Drew tried to walk with a stately grace as he held the pillow with the wedding bands and Matti quickly out-paced her brother. She was just having so much fun that when she reached the end of the aisle and realized that her brother wasn’t next to her, she walked back to him, throwing more flowers while our friends and family laughed at how cute she was.

They were followed by Alice and our sisters. They all looked beautiful in their cream-colored bridesmaid’s dresses. Particularly Shannon and Missy; their red hair made quite a splash against the cream dresses. Alice looked at me and for the first time there wasn’t jealousy in those eyes. I was also relieved that she didn’t pull out a gun when she reached the altar.

The traditional wedding march started up and everyone ‘oohhed’ and ‘aahhed’ when Mary appeared. My heart almost stopped. I had seen her in the dress just a few hours ago as we posed for photos, but this was different. Her emerald eyes found mine through the veil and the smile that covered her face was breathtaking, producing delightful dimples in her cheeks. Clutched in her hands was a bouquet of beautiful flowers, white and pink with a few purple flowers for a splash of brilliant color. Sean, her father, took her arm, and they walked slowly up the aisle. The setting sun lit Mary’s dress with an orange hue and for a moment she looked like an angel aglow with radiant power.

Sean shook my hand, then handed Mary off to me. Alice held Mary’s bouquet as I took my fiancee’s hands. They were soft and gentle and I squeezed them as her flowery perfume filled my nose and left me feeling light-headed. We stared into each other’s eyes as Rose began her marriage ceremony; Mary’s eyes were deep green and full of love and I could happily stare into them forever. Rose gave a sermon on the importance of love and the beauty of two people sharing their lives together. The girl didn’t sound nervous at all, considering she was marrying her Gods.

“Was that Rose I heard moaning?” Mary whispered quietly as Rose preached.

I smiled. “I got bored.”

“That’s my horny stallion.” Mary giggled silently, trying not to let her body shake too much. “Sorry for the holdup. I thought I lost my locket.” She touched the silver, heart-shaped locket nestled in her beautiful cleavage.

“I’m just so happy to marry you,” I answered. She smiled warmly at me and I couldn’t help but smile back at my beautiful bride.

Rose’s sermon went on for about ten more minutes. “The couple have written their own vows,” Rose stated as Quatch passed us the wedding bands. They were simple, golden bands. Inscribed on the inside of each ring was one simple word, “Forever.”

I took Mary’s hand and placed the ring just at the tip of her finger. Mary took a deep breath, tears brimming in her eyes, “Mark, you changed my life the day you walked into my work. You captured my heart and loved me enough to set me free. And I loved you enough to come back. I want to be with you every day of our lives. The good days and the bad. Forever at your side.” My hand trembled as I slid the wedding band all the way onto her finger, up against her engagement ring.

Mary took my wedding band and held my hand, smiling expectantly at me. “That was beautiful, Mare.” She blushed beneath her veil, tears brimming in her beautiful eyes, and I grinned at her. “I was captivated the moment I saw you the day I walked into your work. I never thought I would meet someone who could love me with all her heart the way you have. You are all I will ever need. From now, until the end of time. You are all I need, my love.” Mary was crying and smiling as she slid my wedding band onto my finger.

“By the powers invested in me by my Gods and the State of Washington, I now pronounce you man and wife.” Everyone clapped at Rose’s pronouncement and I lifted my wife’s veil ever so gently. Her lips quivered as we stared at one another and then my arms wrapped around her slim body and I pulled her to me. Our lips met and time seemed to stop. Everything faded away as I kissed my wife and felt her body pressed to me. Her lips tasted sweet, and my nose was filled with the heady scent of her flowery perfume and the faint, coconut smell of her shampoo. Her soft hand stroked my cheek and her dress was silky smooth beneath my hand.

When we broke the kiss, everyone was standing and clapping. We breathlessly turned to face our families, Mary’s arm hooking around mine. We started to walk slowly down the aisle, past the grinning men and the teary-eyed women. They started showering us with rice, the kernels falling about us, getting stuck in our hair and sliding down the front and back of my shirt.

A white Rolls Royce limo pulled up and Leah opened the door. She was wearing a more conservative chauffeur’s outfit than usual. Tears shown in her hazel eyes as she murmured, “I’m so happy for you, my Gods.” Mary stroked her face and bent and kissed her gently on the lips before slipping into the limo. I helped to gather her skirt up and slid in beside her.

“You are so beautiful,” I told my new wife, snuggling up to her and kissing her smiling lips as my hand slid up the side of her dress to gently squeeze her breast through the lacy bodice.

“It’s only a five minute drive to the lodge,” Mary protested between kisses. We were holding our reception at the Paradise Lodge, nearby. As I groped Mary, my other hand was busy lifting up her skirts. “You’ll ruin my dress.” Her protests were growing weaker as my hand found her stocking-covered thigh and I slid up her leg. She was wearing panties with a smooth material. Satin, maybe. I found the warmth between her legs and started rubbing her moistening pussy through her panties’ gusset.

“My horny stallion,” Mary panted, kissing me back. “You’re going to make a mess of my hair, too.”

“I don’t care,” I told her. My fingers found the elastic band of her panties and started to pull them off.

“Umm, I don’t either,” panted Mary as I ran my fingers through her bare pussy. “Make love to me, husband.”

The limo stopped, we were already at the lodge. But, our guests could wait while I made love to my wife. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Leah turn to watch us, her smiling face framed by her bleached-blonde hair. Mary’s hand fumbled at the zipper of my slacks. She reached into the fly, tugging my boxers down and wrapping her hands around my cock and fishing my hardening shaft out. She leaned against the side of the limo, spreading her legs. Her skirts and petticoats bunched up about her waist, almost hiding my wife from me as I settled between her thighs.

“Ohh, I love you,” Mary moaned as my cock found the opening to her pussy and I slid inside her.

She was warm and wet and tight. “I love you, my sweet filly!” I moaned as I started thrusting into her wet hole. I fucked her hard, rocking the limo with every plunge. Mary slammed her hips back at me. We were both too horny to bother with foreplay. Besides, our guests were waiting. The grip of her cunt on my cock was sending waves of pleasure through my cock, ending at my balls.

“Fuck me, fuck me, stud!” Mary gasped loudly. I could see our guests arriving through the tinted window above Mary’s head, and the amused smiles on their faces. They all knew what was going on in the limo.

“My beautiful wife!” I panted. “Your pussy feels so amazing.”

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum, Mark! Umm, pound your filly’s cunt. Give me a good ride!”

The car was quickly filling up with the scent of my Mary, that sweet and spicy aroma of her cunt. I inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent. The slap of flesh and the rustle of fabric echoed through the back of the limo. Mary squealed in pleasure, bucking beneath me. I felt her cunt contracting about my cock as her orgasm rolled through her body.

I slammed three more times into her, balls growing tighter and tighter, and then buried myself inside my wife and flooded her pussy with my cum. We both were breathing hard and I tried to kiss her, but her bunched up skirt made that far too difficult. I pulled out and put my wet cock back into my pants. Mary found her panties and pulled them on quickly to contain the mess inside her.

“That was great, Mare,” I told her. “I love you so much.”

She smiled happily at me and kissed me. “Do I look alright?”

Mary’s hair was a little mused, her skirt a little wrinkled, and her face was flushed and sweaty. “You look so beautiful.”

Leah opened the door and this time we were greeted with catcalls and whistles as we headed into the lodge for the reception. Mary and I stood at the entrance and greeted everyone as they walked in. The children were taken to a small room to be out of the way, and everyone else went into a richly-appointed dining hall. There was a long table for the wedding party, with Mary and myself seated in the middle, and everyone else sat at small, round tables that seated four. We spread out the sluts, sitting each one by a male cousin and told them to be very friendly.

After the dinner, Mary and I did our solo dance. Neither of us danced well, but everyone clapped when we finished. Maybe they were just relieved that our solo was over. Other couples joined us on the dance floor: my mom and her girlfriend Betty, Mary’s parents, Missy and Damien, and my sister and Via. As we were dancing, I saw Lillian slip off with my cousin Ryan. He was fifteen and probably about to lose his virginity. I danced with my mom, and Betty, and Shannon, before I found myself dancing with Alex, one of Mary’s red-headed cousins.

Alex was seventeen, lithe and pretty, with fiery red hair and a face almost entirely covered in freckles. Mary smiled at me as she was twirled about by my cousin, Aaron Jr., as I led Alex off to a side-room we set up for couples to go and be intimate in. Mary didn’t want her wedding to descend into an orgy. The room was partitioned into curtained-off, little rooms with mattresses.

“Oh wow,” a woman exclaimed from behind a curtain. “You do have a cock! How did you do that?”

“Magic,” Sam answered. Sam, our former slut who was now our Vizier, had given herself a dick using a spell she found in the Book.

I opened the curtain curious to know whom she was fucking. Sam was sucking at a woman’s breast as they sat on a mattress. The woman had her hands wrapped around the cock that jutted up from Sam’s groin. I blinked in surprise, the woman was my cousin Laura. And then I realized her husband, Ethan, was sitting in the corner jacking off as he watched his wife and Sam.

Sam’s lips came away from Laura’s breast and I saw a white liquid beading on Laura’s nipple. Breast milk, I realized. She only had Astrid two months ago as I recall. I wondered what breast milk tasted like as Sam bent down and sucked on her other nipple. Must be delicious, because Sam was eager to try more.

I pushed Alex down to her knees and told her to suck my cock. Sam heard and turned her head, licking her lips. “Sir, are you going to watch?”

“Yeah,” I smiled and Sam grinned at me.

Sam pushed Laura onto her back and hiked up the green skirt of my cousin’s dress as Alex licked at the head of my cock. Her tongue felt nice as it fluttered about my sensitive cock’s head. Sam pulled off Laura’s white panties, exposing her brown bush. Sam ran a few fingers through Laura’s cunt and spread open her pink pussy and guided her cock to my cousin’s cunt.

“Fuck me!” Laura begged. “I want to see if a woman’s cock feels different.”

Ethan scooted closer to his wife and offered his cock to her lips. “Thanks, cutie,” Ethan moaned as his wife sucked his cock into her mouth.

From where I was standing, I had a perfect view of Sam sliding her cock into Laura’s cunt. Beneath Sam’s cock I could see her wet pussy. Laura moaned around her husband’s cock as Sam started fucking her with slow, deep thrusts. Laura’s hands started to grope Sam’s olive-skinned ass, slipping down and finding her wet pussy.

“Finger me, slut!” Sam moaned as Laura found her wet pussy. Sam thrust hard into Laura as my cousin shoved her fingers up Sam’s eager cunt.

“Fuck that’s amazing!” I moaned as I watched. I grabbed Alex’s head and shoved her mouth around my cock and started fucking the girl’s face. There was something hot about watching a girl with a cock fuck another girl. This was like that Anime shit that Quatch was into. Never find your friend’s porn collection, I learned the hard way. Especially if he’s into some weird, Japanese fetishes. But seeing this live, I was starting to get why he liked it.

Sam was pounding Laura’s cunt harder and harder. Ethan didn’t last long in his wife’s lips and flooded her mouth with his cum. When his dick popped out, Sam bent down and kissed Laura and the pair snowballed his cum as Sam continued pumping in and out of Laura’s cunt. My balls were boiling over at that, and I filled Alex’s mouth with my spunk.

“Wow,” Alex panted, when I released her. “You cum a lot, Mark.” She glanced at the action and I saw her fidgeting.

“Pretty hot, huh?” I asked her.

“She has a cock?” Alex whispered in awe, licking her lips. “Holy shit, that’s cray.”

“Gonna cum!” Sam moaned, slamming her hips inside Laura. “Oh shit, your pussy feels amazing!” Sam buried herself into Laura’s cunt, breathing hard and then rolled off. My cousin’s pussy gaped open and was messy with Sam’s cum.

“Clean her up,” I ordered Alex.

“How?” Alex asked, looking around for something. A towel, maybe? I should have been more specific.

“With your mouth,” I told her.

Alex flushed and licked her lips, bending down to Laura’s cunt. Sam’s cock shrunk, and went back to being a clit, as she watched Alex hesitantly lick at my cousin’s messy cunt. Sam looked back at Ethan and grabbed his cock and gave it a stroke.

“Want to fuck my snatch?” Sam asked, a smile on her round face.

“Got to get me ready,” Ethan told her as Sam lazily stroked his cock. Sam smiled and sucked his cock into her lips.

I lifted Alex’s red skirt up. She wore a pair of red, satin bikini-cut panties. I pulled them down to her thighs and found her furry, red muff. I grabbed her plump asscheeks and spread them open. She had a cute, rosebud asshole. It look so inviting, I just had to fuck her ass. I shoved my cock inside her cunt to get my dick nice and lubed.

“Holy shit!” Alex gasped in surprise as I pushed into her tight asshole and slid my dick a few inches into her hot ass. “What the hell, you’re fucking my ass!”

“Don’t stop licking!” Laura begged. “I was so close.”

“Keep licking, slut!” I barked at Alex, and slapped her ass.

She yelled and buried her face back into Laura’s cunt. Alex was turning into quite the eager muff diver as I fucked her tight ass nice and slow. Sam stretched out next to Laura, and Ethan mounted her and started fucking away. Laura smiled at her husband and ran a finger down his arm. Ethan smiled at her, then bent over and sucked at her milky nipple.

I gripped Alex’s hips, and fucked her ass faster and faster. Her ass was tight and hot and felt like rough velvet. Her small hips started to move as she got used to my cock up her ass and it wasn’t long before I heard her moan in pleasure into Laura’s cunt. Laura was gripping Alex’s red hair and cursing as her orgasm neared.

“Eat me!” she moaned. “Oh God, I’m so close to cumming! Just lick at my clit a little bit more! Yes, yes! Just like that!” Milk was running out of her nipples as she bucked on Alex’s face, then fell back, a contented smile on her lips. “Umm, that was nice.”

I kept fucking Alex’s ass and I stared hungrily at her tits. “Let me taste your milk, Laura.”

“Sure, Mark,” she said, standing up and bending over, dangling her full breasts in my face. Her nipples were dark red and I latched on sucking. The milk was sweet, far sweeter than a cow’s milk, and had a bit of a cantaloupe flavor. I sucked hungrily, enjoying the taste of her milk.

“That’s my randy stallion,” Mary’s voice purred from behind.

I let go of my cousin’s tits to see Mary leading in one of her high school friends, a blonde girl with curvy hips and breasts that were spilling out of the top of her black dress. Her dress was half-unlaced and Mary’s hand was down the front. Mary pulled her hand out and walked over to Laura, bending down to taste her breast milk.

“Umm, that’s good,” Mary purred. Then she grabbed Laura’s hand and her high school friend’s hand and led them off to another curtained partition.

“Hey, I wasn’t done,” I protested.

“When you’re finished with Alex’s ass, come join us,” Mary laughed.

I pounded Alex’s ass, cumming as quick as I could. I had to get another taste of that breast milk. I left Alex lying next to Sam and Ethan as they fucked, my cum dribbling out of her tight ass. I found Mary’s friend sitting on my wife’s face and Laura eating out my wife’s pussy. I knelt behind my cousin, lifted her skirt. Alex did a good job cleaning my cousin’s cunt I noticed as I lined up my cock and shoved it into her pussy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My feet were killing me. We had just spent the last hour dancing. The hour before that was spent fucking. I still had the flavor of Laura’s breast milk on my lips. My new husband sat next to me. Thanks to his new powers from my mom, he wasn’t even out of breath. He had far too much energy these days. He put his arm around me and I snuggled up against him and kissed his cheek.

After Mark came in his cousin Laura’s cunt, Mark and I nursed at her tits as my friend, Shelly, ate Mark’s cum out of her pussy. When Laura came, her milk seemed to flow a little faster as we sucked at her. I loved the taste of breast milk. I heard a woman could produce milk as long as she had someone to nurse. Korina had beautiful breasts and I couldn’t wait until she had Mark’s kid and her milk was flowing. She was going to be our little milk slut.

The band was playing a slow song and despite how sore my feet felt, I itched for one more dance with my husband. Mark smiled when I told him, and he led me out to the dance floor. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and he held my waist and we swayed together. I stared into his blue eyes and enjoyed the boyish grin on his lips.

Alison and Desiree danced beside us, the two newlyweds lost in each other’s eyes. Other couples joined us: my mom and dad, Laura and Ethan, Shannon and her fiancee, and Cynthia and Vivian. Via dragged Antsy out onto the dance floor and I smiled in amusement. Antsy and Mark were a lot alike, they both fell in love with their slaves and set them free. My friend, Ursula, and her boyfriend swayed past us, and Quatch and his sister-slave, Kim, were practically grinding on each other. Lillian danced with my cousin Alex for a minute, and then the two were slipping into the side room to fuck. Lillian spent most of the night in there. I think she was on a mission to fuck every cousin Mark and I had.

The song ended and Mark scooped me up in his strong arms. “Thank you,” I whispered, relieved to be off my tired feet.

He kissed my forehead. “Any time, Mare,” he grinned and carried me out to the waiting limo as our friends and family wished us well on our honeymoon. We were off to spend two weeks seeing the sites of Europe, starting with Paris.

This time we just cuddled as Leah drove us off the slope of Mount Rainier back towards South Hill. I dozed in my husband’s arms and when Mark shook me, we were at Thun Field. Our Gulfstream was fueled and ready for take-off. The eight bodyguards there accompanying us, led by 51, waited at attention in their slutty uniforms. Next to them was our flight crew; Joslyn and Lynda in their slutty stewardess outfits. Our actual stewardesses, Monique and Lize, were stunningly beautiful in their sexy outfits: skank-skirts that didn’t even cover all of their asses, and white corsets that left their magnificent breasts bared. We hugged and kissed our flight crew then boarded our plane.

Monique helped me with my skirt as I climbed into the airplane. I hoped my wedding dress wasn’t too ruined. I had done a bit more fucking in it then I planned on. On board, Mark helped me slip out of my wedding dress, leaving me standing in my wedding lingerie. A white, satin bra that molded perfectly about my breasts, my satin panties that clung to my ass like a second skin, and my garter belt holding up my white stockings.

“You are so beautiful,” Mark whispered in awe as his eyes feasted on me. I posed for him like a forties pin-up gal. Mark kissed me and scooped me up in his arms and sat down on the chair.

I adjusted myself on his lap, my legs draped over the arm of the chair and I stared into his blue eyes. “I love you, Mark Glassner.”

He stroked my cheek, sending a delicious thrill through my body. “I love you, Mary Glassner.”

Mary Glassner. I smiled, liking the sound of that. The plane taxied down the runway, off to fly us to Europe for our two week honeymoon. Happiness churned in my heart as I kissed my husband as the plane accelerated down the runway and leaped from the ground. When we were at cruising altitude, Mark carried me in his arms to our cabin at the rear of the plane, and the inviting bed that awaited us.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

University of Wisconsin-Madison, July 21st, 2013

“I’ll be there by ten,” Brandon had told me on the phone and that was nearly three hours ago.

This waiting was killing me. Brandon had been breathing down my neck to finish translating his book, and now that it was done, he was late. Doubt was starting to eat away at my mind. This entire situation was off. The only thing that kept me from going home was the thought of the two hundred thousand Brandon owed me.

Why he would pay three hundred thousand for a translation of the Magicks of the Witch of Endor was beyond me. It was like the numerous grimoires I had seen over the years, the Keys of Solomon, for instance, or the Sefer Raziel HaMalakh, that purported to let you do magic and command angels and demons. There was definitely more to the story than Brandon told me.

So I decided to take steps to protect myself.

I had uploaded my translation to the school’s server. The school’s system had a useful function, a teacher could upload an assignment and have it published at a later date. So, I set the computer to publish the translation on Monday at noon. If everything went smoothly tonight, I would take it down. But, if something went wrong, the translation and a message telling everyone that Brandon Fitzsimmons was responsible for anything that might have happened to me would get published.

I should just walk away. Every bone in my body was telling me to do that. That’s why I set up the insurance with the school server to begin with. Brandon didn’t want anyone else to know about the translation. But I just couldn’t bring myself to walk away from all that money. The first check had cleared. One hundred thousand dollars was more than I made in a year and I wanted that other two hundred thousand he promised. I was nearing my retirement and my divorce last year had eaten up my nest egg.

Footsteps approached and I perked up. The door to my small office opened and there was Brandon. He looked more haggard than a month ago, greed and excitement gleaming in his eyes. I swallowed, fear bubbling in my stomach. This was a mistake, I should run, I should shout, or attack him. But, I wanted that money. I needed that money.

So instead, I greeted Brandon.

“You have it, Professor Scrivener!” he demanded.

I pulled out a thumb drive, holding it out. “Yes, I…” Brandon just yanked it out of my hand.

“This is the only copy?”

I lied, “Yeah. I erased my hard drive like you asked. Where’s my money?”

A smile appeared on Brandon’s lips and he reached into his coat just like last time. Only this time, he pulled out a small, black gun. “Wait!” I shouted. I needed to tell him about my insurance. “I made…” My words were cut off by a punch to my chest. I clutched at my breast, blood welling between my fingers, and I stumbled back. No, no, no! This can’t be happening! You greedy fool! I struggled to talk, to tell Brandon about my insurance, but it was too hard to breath, let alone speak.

You stupid, greedy idiot, I berated myself as I sank to the floor. Brandon grabbed my computer case and slammed it hard onto the floor, spilling broken components everywhere. He fished out the hard drive and pocketed that, then slammed my laptop on the floor. Everything was growing darker and darker as Brandon dug through the wreckage of my laptop to find its hard drive and…

I was falling, falling, falling.

Into darkness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Babylon’s House, July 21st, 2013

“Chantelle,” I said, softly, shaking my pregnant wife. She was sleeping in one of the bedrooms in Babylon’s house. We had been staying with Babylon ever since her coven started worshiping Lilith. For the last month we had been caring for the barely conscious Karen as Lilith’s vessel grew swiftly in her belly.

“What, Lana?” she asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Her belly was swollen with Lilith’s child. Both of us were pregnant with our Goddess’s children. They were growing fast, only a month had passed since Lilith blessed us with her seed. We would probably give birth in just a few days, a week at most.

“Karen’s gone into labor,” I told her and I could feel the excited smile growing on my lips. “Our Goddess is about to be born!”

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 34.

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The Devil’s Pact Side-Story: Rachel’s Honeymoon Part 4-Sunday

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Side-Story: Rachel’s Honeymoon

Part 4: Sunday

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2013, 2014


Story Codes: Female/Female, Male/Females, Mind Control, Exhibitionism, Bukkake, Wife, Romance, Creampie

For a list of all the Devil’s Pact Chapters and other stories click here

Comments are very welcome. I would like all criticism, positive and negative, so long as its
constructive, and feedback is very appreciated.



Note: This takes during Chapter 27 while Mark and Mary are in New York City. For Part 3 of Rachel’s Honeymoon.



I was kissing Leah as a group of men cheered us on. We were in some loft with some of the guys from the club. We had partied with them all night, and every single one of my holes was stuffed with cum, the salty flavor of cum thick on my tongue. I was on top of Leah, her legs wrapped around my waist as our clits rubbed together. It was almost like fucking her, the way I ground my pussy into her. Leah’s hands were roaming up and down my back, tracing my spine, then she slid down to my ass, kneading my cheeks, pulling me harder into her clit. Her tongue was in my mouth, exploring me, her tongue salty with cum.

There was something so intimate about lying atop her, grinding my pussy into her. Our nipples touched; our breasts were pressed into each other. I felt the same feeling with Jacob, my husband, as he lay atop me thrusting his cock inside me. Leah was that same mix of intoxication and intimacy. It didn’t matter that all these guys were watching us, cheering us on. I wasn’t doing this for them, I was doing it for Leah.

“Oh, fuck!” a guy groaned as ropey cum splashed onto my back.

“You guys are some fucking nasty cunts!” another guy moaned.

Ropey cum splashed into my hair and on to my cheek, rolling wetly down to my lips. Together we tasted the salty cum as we kissed. I ground my hips, pushing my pussy harder into Leah. I wanted to feel her cum on my pussy. And I wanted her to feel my pussy cum on her’s. Leah’s hand was on my ass again, pulling me into her.

“Christ almighty!” another guy moaned, and hot cum splashed between my legs, landing on my pussy and dripping down to Leah’s cunt.

There were a dozen guys watching us, jerking off to us. We were the only ladies present. The red-head stayed at the club, still looking for her boyfriend. I hoped she found him, although how she was going to explain the cum leaking out of her ass and cunt I had no idea. She didn’t have a husband that understood that his new wife just needed to have some fun on her honeymoon. To cut loose and experience life for the first time before she went back to be his plan, drab brunette.

More cum splashed on my ass, my back, on my side, rolling down to my boobs. Some landed in my hair, on my face, some even landed on my feet. It seemed like it was raining cum on the both of us as we writhed against each other. Every sweet kiss of our clits was bringing me closer and closer to cumming. I could feel that same desire building in Leah. Her hips were bucking faster beneath me, more urgent, as she was nearing her climax.

We came together, bucking in each other’s embrace, moaning our passion into each other’s lips. I broke the kiss, resting my forehead on hers, staring into her hazel eyes and I wallowed in the fun I was having. My dyed-blonde hair fell about our faces, screening us from the men’s gaze, giving us a bit of privacy.

I just knew Jacob would love Leah as much as I had come to. At least, I hoped he would.

But would Leah want to give up being a blonde and go back to being a drab brunette with me? Would she be happy only having one man and one woman? If I had not met Mary, had not been swept up in the magic of her presence, I would never have stopped being that drab brunette, would never have become the fun blonde that would let a room-full of men jerk off on her while she tribbed another woman. I knew how much fun it could be and I was afraid that my husband and I wouldn’t be enough for my new lover.

The men’s catcalls ruined the moment, and I rolled off Leah. “Where’s my dress?” I asked. We had to get going. Mary told us to be back by morning, and the sun was already lightening the horizon.

A man tossed me my dress and I pulled it on over the cum. “Dirty slut, not even going to get cleaned up?” the man asked.

I shrugged. “I’m not some drab brunette,” was my answer.

Leah and I made out the entire cab ride back to the Waldorf-Astoria. The cabbie had to see that we were positively dripping in cum, but he didn’t say a word. The doorman at the Waldorf-Astoria gave us strange looks as we stumbled in and headed for the elevator. We had it all to ourselves this early, and made out the entire ride up, stumbling into the hotel room.

“Looks like you two had some fun,” the bodyguard on duty muttered. She was a black-haired beauty with a pair of large tits straining at the half-open blouse of her uniform.

“We did,” I giggled. “Blonde’s have all the fun.”

“Explains why I’m on guard duty,” the bodyguard said with an exaggerated sigh.

We took a quick shower and fell asleep in each other’s arms. When we awoke, it was to one of the bodyguards shaking us. “Master and Mistress want you two dressed,” the Korean bodyguard snapped, and pinched my naked ass. “Now, sluts!”

Mark and Mary played the tourist again, and every time they found some new landmark or museum, Leah and I made out in the back of the limo. Every time Mark and Mary returned brought us closer and closer to when we would part. I was torn inside. I loved Jacob, and I was quickly realizing that I loved Leah. Fantasies of running off with Leah floated through my head, of late night’s partying in clubs, of having fun. But there was no Jacob. A fantasy of being married to Jacob passed through my mind, of sleeping in on the Sabbath, cuddling in bed. Of the small house we were in the process of buying; spending Sundays painting and fixing all the little things that needed to be done. But there was no Leah. I felt like I was being ripped between my two loves.

The drive to the airport seemed to take forever. Mary pulled Leah aside and the two had a whispered conversation as Mark greeted a pair of sluttily dressed stewardesses. And I mean slutty, their tits were exposed in white bustiers. They both had a nice set of tits I realized, as my eyes drank in their beauty, their nipples hard and one had golden rings pierced through her nipples, the blonde, of course. Mark had them both in his arms, kissing one then the other.

Mary stepped in front of me, caressed my face and whispered, “Love them both.” Then her lips were on mine, all thoughts erased as the most beautiful woman in the world kissed me. And then she released me, heading back to her fiancee and they boarded their private jet. And I was no longer the fun-loving blonde, but the plain, drab brunette. It was time to go back to Jacob.

Love them both, Mary’s words echoed in my head on the drive back to the limo rental company. Leah had to return the limo and that’s when they would part. I wanted to love them both. But they were too different. I couldn’t see Leah settling down in a plain house in a boring suburb and I couldn’t see Jacob going to a wild club in an exciting city.

Leah opened the door for me for the last time, a sad smile on her angelic face. I hugged her and stroked her face, then kissed her lush lips one last time. I drank in the sight of her face; the memory would have to last me a lifetime. Love them both. But how? Maybe I was the key. They both loved me, could I be the bridge between the two?

“What did Mary say to you?” I asked her. That’s not what you were supposed to say. Tell her how you feel. But fear stayed my tongue. I could live the rest of my life with the memory of our brief fling. But only if I believed that Leah actually loved me. If she didn’t…I did not want to think about that.

Leah swallowed. “She asked me if I…” Leah breathed deeply. “If I loved you.”

“Do you?” I blurted out before my brain could stop me.

“Yes,” she whispered, then she hugged me tightly. “Don’t go back to your husband. Please, stay with me. Think of all the fun we can have together. I love you, Rachel.”

My heart melted. “I love you, too, Leah,” I whispered back and she squeezed me tighter. “But, I love Jacob. I met him first.” I could feel tears brimming in my eyes.

“You have to choose then,” Leah said, pulling away. “It…it’s alright. I knew this was a dream that I had to wake up from.”

“Why can’t I have both of you?” I asked. “Mary told me to love both of you.”

“I don’t even know Jacob,” she protested.

“You know me,” I told her. “You trust me, right?”

Leah nodded.

“Then trust me about Jacob. He’s a little boring. But then, so was I. We can have fun with him, be as wild and slutty as we want to, just the three of us. But we can have more. We can have roots. Having fun is great, but it doesn’t last. Eventually the party ends, Leah, but with Jacob we can grow something that lasts beyond the fun. Jacob and I already have started growing our life together and I want you to grow with us.”

Leah chewed her lip. “As, what? Your mistress?”

“As my wife,” I told her, stroking her cheek. “And Jacob’s wife.”

A shiver ran through Leah’s body, her hazel eyes became distant as she pursed her lips in thought. “I must be crazy,” she muttered. “Okay, I’m willing to try. For you, Rachel. I don’t want to lose you.”

We were kissing, tears of joy running down both our faces and mingling salty between our lips. Now, I just had to convince Jacob. But Leah was hot and he was a man, and lust could serve until he got to know just how special she was. We broke the kiss and hailed a cab. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other, or our lips, as we rode back to the hotel. The poor cabbie almost got in a wreck; he kept watching us in his rearview mirror.

We reached the honeymoon suite of the Waldorf-Astoria. Jacob should be in there, waiting for me. He was a great guy, to let me have all this fun on our honeymoon. And it was my turn to return the favor. Jacob never said it, but I knew he thought about having two women. What guy didn’t? So, I confidently knocked on the door.

Leah trembled beside me. The once confident, outgoing girl had been replaced by this shy, sweet thing. She was acting like a drab brunette. Like me, she was a bottled-blonde, not a natural. “What if he doesn’t like me?” Leah asked in a panic. “What if he doesn’t want to share you?”

“He’ll love you,” I told her, squeezing her hand.

The door opened, and there was my husband, skinny and tall, his brown hair mused and his glasses askew. A happy smile appeared on his lips. “Rachel, you’re back!”

I threw my arms around my husband and kissed him soundly on the lips. His lips were firm, cheeks rough with his stubble and I ran my fingers through it, delighting in the feel of his manliness. He smelled of sweat and that musk that was distinctly my Jacob’s. His strong arms wrapped around me as I pressed my soft body against his.

“I missed you, Rach,” he whispered, stroking my hair. “And you’re blonde, now?”

“Blonde’s have all the fun,” I giggled.

“Is that the girl you were with yesterday?” he cautiously asked.

Yesterday morning, Jacob found Leah and I making out in the elevator. “Jacob, this is Leah.” I took a deep breath. “We fell in love.”

A crestfallen, hurt expression fell across Jacob’s face. “I see,” he said, stiffly. “I mean, what did I expect. We spent our honeymoon apart.”

I sighed. “Jacob. I love you, too. And I did have a lot of fun, and now I’m ready to have some fun with you.”

“Both of you?” he asked. Was that a hint of hope in his voice?

“Yes,” I told him. “I hope you find Leah as amazing as I do. Because, I want the three of us to be together.”

Jacob blinked. “I…I’m not sure I understand.”

“Well, Jacob, I want to be your wife and Leah’s wife,” I said. “And I want Leah to be your wife, as well.”

“Two wives, huh,” Jacob said. “I don’t know, Rach. That’s a little wild. And illegal.”

“Do you love me, Jacob?” I asked.

“Of course, Rach.” He stroked my cheek. “Always.”

“Then, for me, try and love Leah,” I told him. “Leah has promised to try and love you.”

He sighed. “Alright, Rach, for you.”

“Oh, don’t sound so pouty,” I said, getting annoyed. “You get what every guy dreams of, two blondes sharing your bed.”

Jacob laughed, relaxing, and glanced at Leah. Their eyes met and they both froze. Color flushed on Leah’s face and Jacob gave a half-smile. I could almost feel the electricity pass between them. My heart gave a happy beat; this was going to work. I squealed in joy as Leah boldly walked up to Jacob, her assertiveness restored, and pulled my husband down and gave him a passionate kiss on the lips. Jacob started kissing her back, pulling her tight against him.

“He’s cute,” Leah stated when she broke the kiss. Jacob had a dazed, breathless expression on his face. “I can see why you like him, Rachel.”

My heart fluttered in happiness, again, as I watched Jacob bend his head down and kiss her on the lips. “You’re pretty cute, yourself, Leah,” Jacob stated when he broke the kiss, and it was Leah’s turn to be breathless.

I threw my arms around them both. “The bed awaits,” I told them. “Let’s celebrate our honeymoon.”

The bed was covered in red, satin sheets and we all fell onto it, tearing each other’s clothes off. Jacob discovered my shaved pussy, stroking it with his hand. “Wow, that’s hot.”

“I did it for you,” I admitted. “It was supposed to be a surprise on our wedding night.”

“Well, I am surprised,” Jacob said, and he bent down and started licking at my pussy. I giggled as his whiskers scratched at my thighs, adding a rough, pleasant feeling only a man could give, different from the gentle touch of a woman, but no less pleasant. Leah started kissing me on the lips, her hands playing with my breasts. I was so happy, both my loves were making me feel so amazing.

Jacob kissed up my body, nipping at my breasts. I was so wet and ready for him. Leah grasped his cock with her hand, guiding Jacob to my wet cunt. I moaned, kissing Jacob on the lips as he slid in me, filling me up so deliciously. After having all those cocks in me last night, I could say Jacob was above average. I moaned as he started pistoning in and out of me. No, he was well above average.

Leah kissed our cheeks, a smile on her face as she watched Jacob make love to me. My hands roamed Jacob’s lean back, brushing Leah’s exploring hand. Together, we groped Jacob’s ass, pulling him tighter into me. Jacob broke our kiss, nuzzling at my neck as he pumped into me. Lean leaned in and we kissed. I felt so much joy as my husband and wife made love to me.

Leah took my hand and moved it down to her steaming cunt, rubbing my fingers across her wet, silky lips. I shoved two fingers up inside her and found her clit. I finger-banged her hard and fast, enjoying her wetness as she sighed softly into my lips as her pleasure mounted. My own orgasm was growing closer and I started moving my hips to Jacob’s pace.

Jacob was fucking me faster and harder now, his cock eager to cum. The poor guy spent the entire weekend without any pussy. Well, that would change. Between Leah and myself, Jacob would get all the pussy he could ever want.

“I love you both!” I gasped as my orgasm exploded inside me, milking Jacob’s cock, trying to draw out his cum.

I could feel Leah’s pussy clenching on my fingers. “Ohh, I love you too, Rachel!” she moaned as her orgasm spilled through her body.

Jacob’s cock slammed into me, burying all the way inside me as his back arched and his ass clenched beneath my hand. I could feel him spilling inside me. “Oh, my sweet Rach!” he gasped.

Jacob rolled off me and both my loves snuggled up against me, two pairs of hands playing with my breasts. “I want to see you and Leah fuck,” I told Jacob, kissing him on the lips.

He smiled. “Sure, just let me rest. I need to recharge.”

I glanced at Leah and she smiled. “Oh, I know just how to recharge a cock.”

Jacob moaned as we both sucked his cock, tasting my pussy cream. We flicked our tongues all about his cock, licking clean all of my delicious juices. Sometimes our tongues or lips would brush, and we would kiss around his cock. “Oh man, that is so hot!” Jacob moaned and we both giggled at our husband.

Our tongues quickly got Jacob hard and ready. What man could stay soft with two women lapping at his cock? I leaned against the headboard, spreading my messy legs. Leah licked her lips and dove into the messy creampie Jacob and I made for her, presenting her cute ass to Jacob. My husband looked at me and I smiled and nodded encouragingly. He started to move into position, then froze as he watched Leah eat me out, a grin broadening his face.

“Wow, that’s hot!” Jacob exclaimed. “Seeing it live is so much better than porn.”

“Ohh, you like the girl-girl porn?” Leah asked, looking back at Jacob, her lips shiny with my juices.

“Every guy likes watching two chicks get it on,” Jacob answered.

“Well, you’re in luck,” Leah purred, “because I love getting it on with another chick!”

“Umm, me too, honey,” I cooed. “Now, what are you waiting for, honey? Leah’s pussy is wet and ready for you.”

“Sorry, I got distracted.”

“I’ll forgive you if you stick that big cock up my cunt, honey,” Leah moaned.

Leah purred and wiggled her cute butt at Jacob as her tongue started swirling around my clit. Jacob got the message, kneeling behind Leah, his cock hard and leaking pre-cum. I could feel Leah moan into my pussy as Jacob sank into his second wife’s cunt. He drew back, gripping her hips, and slammed in a second time.

“Is everyday going to be like this?” Jacob asked as he made love to Leah, our wife.

“Yes,” Leah answered as she slipped two fingers up inside my pussy.

“Just the three of us,” I smiled, gazing at my two loves. My husband and my wife. I was the luckiest gal in the world.

The End

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The Devil’s Pact Side-Story: Rachel’s Honeymoon Part 3-Saturday Evening

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Side-Story: Rachel’s Honeymoon

Part 3: Saturday Evening

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2013


Story Codes: Male/Female, Males/Female, Female/Female, Mind Control, Exhibitionism, Wife, Orgy, Aanl, Oral, Interracial, Ass to Pussy

For a list of all the Devil’s Pact Chapters and other stories click here

Comments are very welcome. I would like all criticism, positive and negative, so long as its
constructive, and feedback is very appreciated.



Note: This takes during Chapter 27 while Mark and Mary are in New York City. For Part 2 of Rachel’s Honeymoon.



“You and Leah sure seem close,” Mary told me after a delicious dinner at Keen’s Steakhouse Saturday evening. Mark and Leah had slipped off to fuck in the bathroom and I was missing Leah’s beautiful, angelic face, her blonde hair, and her full lips that I had come to love to kiss.

I flushed. Ever since this morning, I had felt like I was falling in love with Leah. At every moment we could, Leah and I would kiss or hold hands. We were like a pair of teenagers. And if we could get away with it, we’d fuck. And I think Leah was falling in love with me. I still loved my Jacob and almost felt guilty about the poor guy sitting in our honeymoon suite all alone while I was out having all this fun. But I was going to make it up to Jacob Sunday night. With Leah.

“I think we’re falling in love,” I confided to Mary. She was so beautiful and desirable. I just wanted to kiss her freckled face, to rub my cheek against her perky tits, and taste her delicious pussy. Mary was intoxicating to be around. Away from her, you didn’t feel the same intense desire for her, but up close it was almost overwhelming.

“And what about your husband?” Mary asked.

“I still love him,” I answered. “Hopefully, he’ll love Leah just as much as he loves me.”

“Is that what you want, Rachel?” Mary asked me.

It was. I may be a blonde slut for the weekend, fulfilling my deepest fantasies, but that would end when I returned to my husband. But, I wanted Leah, too. In my mind, the three of us were together, all loving each other, living happily ever after. I know, it was some perverted, naive, schoolgirl’s fantasy, but I wanted both of my loves.

“Yes, Mary,” I answered and Mary smiled. “And…um…I was wondering if Leah and I could go to a club tonight.”

Mary’s smile broadened. “Sure. I’ll find some hot piece of ass to keep Mark entertained and you two slip off and have some fun.”

“Oh, thank you,” I cooed, hugging her.

“You can thank me by slipping under the table and eating my horny cunt,” Mary purred, her hand on my head pushing me beneath the table.

Mark and Mary were just the sort of people who were so confident that everyone just did what they wanted, including me I realized, as I happily slid down onto my knees. I spread Mary’s thighs and found her shaved cunt wet and waiting for me. She tasted sweet and spicy and I could feel her squirm as she enjoyed my tongue lapping through her moist groove.

“Your dessert, madam,” the waiter said. Mary had ordered their dark chocolate mousse.

“Umm,” Mary purred, she must have just eaten a bite. “It’s positively orgasmic,” she moaned as my sucking mouth found her clit.

“Well, enjoy your dessert, madam,” the waiter said politely and left.

I almost laughed. No dessert could taste half as good as a woman’s cunt and I enjoyed the sweet dessert of Mary’s pussy, lapping up all her juices and enjoying her moans and pants as she came on my sucking mouth.

Mary, true to her word, found a pair of teenage sisters, and Mark and Mary retired to their room with the two girls while Leah and I slipped out of the hotel. We were wearing new party dresses that Mary bought us after dinner. It’s where she found the two teenage sisters. Mary knew her fiancee, and he leapt at the chance to fuck a pair of sisters.

“Just be back before morning,” Mary warned before closing the door to the penthouse suite’s master bedroom. We could just catch a glimpse of Mark kissing one of the sisters as the other one played with her pussy and watched.

We caught a cab and Leah gave an address in the Bronx. “The Ware,” Leah answered when I asked where we were going. “It used to be called the Warehouse, but that got shortened. It’s the hot place, right now.”

The Ware turned out to be a dilapidated warehouse, made of crumbling brick. A long line of people, mostly men, waited down the side of building. “We have to wait?”

“Not if you’re hot,” Leah smiled and walked up to the bouncer, a big black guy, and smiled. He eyed us up and lifted the rope, to the dismay of the guys and a few gals in line.

There was a short tunnel, the pulse of dubstep growing louder and louder. And then we were through a pair of doors and were assaulted by the music. The entire factory floor was packed with people. Blacklights flooded the club; everything glowed bright blue or green or red. People were dancing, wearing glowstick bracelets that gave them an ethereal beauty in the dark club. Leah pulled me out onto the dance floor.

I let the music flow through me, moving my body to the rhythm, pressing up against Leah. She turned around, her ass rubbing into my groin as we danced. I felt so alive. Nothing mattered except the beat of the music and the dance. Someone was behind me, rubbing up against my ass. A man, I realized with a naughty thrill, feeling his hard bulge rub against my ass. A happy pride surged through me, the man was hard for my body.

I ground my ass back into him, leaning my back against his broad chest, feeling his scratchy whiskers on my delicate neck. This was so much fun. Leah was right, blondes have all the fun. I couldn’t imagine a guy rubbing up against the drab brunette I used to be. Nor would that drab brunette turn around and start grinding her pussy on a strange guy’s leg, feeling her clit rubbing against the rough fabric of his jeans. That drab brunette would have worn her panties, too, I thought with a giggle.

His lips were rough as he kissed me, his stubble rasping on my chin. He smelled of sweat and leather; manly smells, that just made my cunt wetter. His hands grew bold, exploring all the charms my body had to offer. That drab brunette wouldn’t let a strange man feel her breast through her dress, wouldn’t let the man slip his hand down her bodice and find her hard nipple and play with it in the middle of a club’s dance floor. That drab brunette definitely wouldn’t unzip the man’s fly, draw out his cock, and let that strange man slide his dick into her married cunt, on her honeymoon no less. And a drab brunette wouldn’t fuck the man, writhing her hips and enjoying the group of men and women that gathered to watch her uninhibited behavior.

But a vivacious blonde would. Because blondes have all the fun.

The man’s cock felt so delicious inside me, ramming in and out of my pussy. His hands were on my ass, squeezing my cheeks as I wiggled my hips. I wrapped my legs around the man’s waist, and he was thrusting hard into me. I was kissing and biting at his neck as the pleasure of his cock rubbing inside me became more and more intense. Then I was howling as my naughty, blonde cunt had a lot of fun. My orgasm was so intense, stars danced in my eyes.

The man kept fucking me, pounding my little married cunt so hard. I ground my clit into his groin every time he buried his cock into me, and I was so close to cumming a second time. His cock was firm pleasure, every movement just adding to my second orgasm as it built and built and then I was howling again and he moaned in my ear so loud I could hear it over the music as his cum shot up inside my blonde cunt.

My lover pulled out and I was dancing back into the crowd, his cum running down my leg. I started dancing by myself, wondering who my next partner would be and how much fun I would have with him. Or her. A blonde just had fun, they didn’t care about silly things like what sex their partners were.

My next partner was a red-headed, busty gal and I ground my sopping cunt on the woman’s thigh while we kissed. Around us, a group of guys cheered us on and snapped pictures on their phones. And then I felt especially naughty and thought of something the drab brunette would never do.

I dropped to my knees as the men whooped and hollered. The red-head didn’t seem to mind as I pulled her purple panties off and then found her furry cunt. It felt different, eating a pussy covered in downy pubes, but it was just as fun. The woman had a delicious, sweet musk, her juices thicker than Leah or Mary’s had been. I just devoured her cunt, lapping at her delicious fur pie. My hands gripped the red-head’s ass, squeezing her firm cheeks as she ground her cunt on my face.

“You’re one nasty slut!” a guy cheered. I was. A nasty, blonde slut, I thought happily.

“Eat that bitch’s snatch!”

“Fuck, I am so posting this vid on porntube!” Ohh, I was going to be on the internet! The idea that men all across the world would jerk off to me was so hot; I made sure to dig my tongue deep into the red-head’s furry cunt.

The red-head grabbed my blonde hair and shoved her cunt into my mouth, shuddering on my lips and flooded my lips with fresh juices. She stumbled back and everyone clapped and I stood up, my lips shining with cum, and posed for pictures.

The guys started getting handsy, pulling at my dress, fondling me, and trying to get my nips out. I didn’t fight, it was more fun that way. Soon both my tits were hanging out and the red-head was sucking at my breast while the guys snapped their photos. Then my skirt was pulled up and I bent over, letting them get shots of my shaved twat messy with cum.

“You are so fucking hot,” one of the guys said. “We got a private booth; why don’t you come join us.”

“Sure,” I giggled.

“Oh, I got to find my boyfriend,” the red-head protested half-heartily as we were swept away by the guys over to a roped-off area and pulled into a more intimate cubical that faced the club. Padded couches formed a half-circle around a small table designed to rest drinks on.

I was pulled into the lap of one of the guys, his mouth on mine, kissing me hungrily. Another guy sat next to him and he grabbed my hand and placed it on his crotch and I could feel his hard cock. I rubbed his bulge and then I felt him unzip his pants and he pulled his cock out. I gripped it in my hand, stroking it, feeling the warm flesh, soft and hard, throb in my hands as the guy moaned.

“Oh, you are one nasty slut,” he moaned.

I heard gasping moans and the slap of flesh and it sounded like the red-head was getting fucked. I broke the kiss to look over my shoulder to see her kneeling on the couch, a black guy behind her pounding away at her cunt. Her dress had been pulled down and her large tits hung out, swinging back and forth as the black guy slammed into her.

“Suck my cock, blondie,” the guy I was giving a handjob to said. He grabbed my blonde tresses and pulled me down to his cock.

It was a nice-sized cock, not as big as my husband’s, but nice. I sucked it into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the head, then started bobbing my head. The guy I was half-sitting on slid out from underneath me and I was kneeling on the couch, my ass sticking out. I felt my skirt being hiked up and my messy cunt exposed.

“This slut’s already got a cunt full of cum,” the man I had been kissing complained. “Fuck, I didn’t want sloppy seconds.”

“Stop bitchin’,” the guy I was sucking barked. “Umm, this slut’s got a talented little mouth. But I’d love to fuck her cunt if you don’t want to.”

“Fuck that,” the guy behind me snapped. And then I felt his cock poking at my cunt. I moaned around the dick in my mouth as his hard shaft slammed into my pussy. “Fuck, she’s wet, and tight as a schoolgirl!”

“Like you ever fucked a schoolgirl,” his buddy ribbed.

I sucked on the cock in my mouth and slammed my hips back against the cock in my cunt. I was having so much fun pleasuring two cocks at once. I had missed out on so much living as that drab brunette, but I was going to make up for it tonight. After all, once I returned to Jacob I would be that drab brunette again. But that was okay, I loved Jacob and would be happy being his drab brunette as long as I could have Leah, too.

The cock in my mouth was squirting salty, delicious cum. “That’s it, drink all my spunk, bitch.”

I drank every drop, then released his cock to lick the little bit of cum that escaped my lips. The guy moved away and another guy with a bigger cock took his place and I was gobbling that cock down. The cock in my cunt dumped a huge load of cum inside me and pulled out, and another cock took its place, slamming hard into me. A few strokes with this new cock and I moaned and bucked, cumming hard.

The cock in my cunt and the one in my mouth finished at the same time and for a moment I was cock free. The red-head was on her back, a guy on top of her, fucking her cunt, and a blonde woman sat on the red-head’s face, enjoying the tongue lashing the red-head was giving her.

“Leah,” I said, happily. “I lost you in the crowd.”

Leah smiled. “I saw how much fun you were having, so I came to join in.”

“Because blondes have all the fun?” I asked, knowing the answer.

The black guy caught my arm and pulled me over to him. “Ever been fucked in the ass, blondie?”

“No,” I said. Looks like another fun thing for me to experience.

The black guy grinned and pushed me onto my back, hooking my legs up over his shoulders. His black cock rubbed against my white ass, searching for my tight asshole. “Don’t worry, cunt, your girlfriend’s pussy lubed me up real good,” he growled as his cock’s head found my sphincter.

I groaned as he pushed against me, gritting my teeth, and then the head of his cock was inside me and I gasped. “Oh, fuck, you’re too big,” I protested in pain.

“Relax, Rachel,” Leah moaned. “Relax, your naughty little ass can take it.”

I tried to relax, to let this huge, black cock invade my ass. He slid in deeper and deeper, relentlessly pushing his cock into me. And then he was all the way in me and I moaned in relief. Then, he was pulling out. It felt weird, and good. Then he was pushing back into me. It hurt less and less and felt better and better. He went faster as my ass relaxed, bottoming out with every thrust, his balls slapping against my ass cheeks.

“So fucking tight,” the black guy groaned. “I love fucking tight, white asses!”

I ran my hands across his muscular, dark chest as he started to pound my ass, his face clenched in pleasure and his eyes squeezed shut. I started moving my hips, fucking back against him as the pleasure seemed to take control of my hips. I could feel another cum building. The cock slamming harder and harder into me and then I was cumming, my ass clenching on his cock and I was moaning like a whore.

“Fucking slut!” he groaned. “You want my cum, slut?”

“Yes, please cum in my slutty ass,” I moaned.

“Here it comes, bitch!” he grunted and then I could feel his warm, hot cum flooding my ass. He pulled out of me, grabbed my hair and shoved his dick in my mouth. “Clean me, bitch! Clean your dirty, slutty ass off my dick.”

His cock tasted sour as I sucked on it. Never in a million years would that drab brunette think about sucking a cock that had just been up her ass. Hell, that drab brunette never would have let a cock up there to begin with. Or a second cock, I thought happily as I felt another guy pushing his cock into my well lubed ass, sliding in far easier than the first.

“Let me fuck that pussy,” a guy said.

“I’m fucking her ass!”

“So, we can do her together.”

Together? A cock in both holes? Was that possible? Could a person have that much fun? I was pulled into a guy’s lap, his hard cock thrust up into my cunt as the other guy spread my asscheeks and found my tight asshole and slid in. I was so full of cock I thought I would burst. As I started to pump my hips, enjoying both cocks stuffing my holes, I learned that a blonde, at least, could have that much fun!

To be continued…

Click here for Part 4.

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The Devil’s Pact Chapter Thirty-Two: Decisions

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Chapter 32: Decisions

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2013


Story Codes: Male/Female, Male/Females, Male/Female/Teen female, Female/Teen female, Female/Female, Hermaphrodite,Female, Mind Control, Magic, Female Masturbation, Oral, Toy, Incest, Orgy

For a list of all the Devil’s Pact Chapters and other stories click here

Comments are very welcome. I would like all criticism, positive and negative, so long as its
constructive, and feedback is very appreciated.



Click here for Chapter 31.



Desiree de la Fuente

I caught Alison’s eyes across the dining room, across all the shouting women.

They had just left. Mark and Mary. With a few words, I was suddenly horrified to discover I didn’t choose to be their…slut. My entire world was crumbling as I realized for the last three weeks of my life I had been a different person, a plaything for Mark and Mary. Someone to satiate their lusts and cook them food. I had always thought of myself as a strong, independent woman, not easily cowed or swayed. And yet, Mark says one word and I begged to be his whore. I shivered in disgust.

“We should call the cops,” Fiona was shouting.

“What good would that do?” Lillian demanded. “Master controls the police. Just be a good girl and calm down. You’re one of their chosen women, I don’t see what you’re all worked up about?”

Fiona flushed. “Some of us aren’t sluts who enjoy being degraded!”

Lillian’s pale face flushed with color and she screeched as she leapt at the strawberry-blonde Fiona. Noel grabbed Lillian and threw her back, standing between the two women. Fiona gave a snarl and fled the room. Alison caught my eyes and pointed upstairs. I nodded and we slipped out as Noel and Lillian started shouting at each other.

I sighed in relief as I closed the door to our bedroom. It hit me then. This was my house, and I was forced to stay in the guest bedroom. Mark and Mary stole my bedroom when they stole the house from Brandon and myself. Tears started welling up in my eyes as the full enormity of what had happened crashed into me.

“Shh,” Alison whispered, hugging me.

My heart quickened in my breast. Alison had this nympho act. Well, maybe it wasn’t an act, but underneath she was a sweet, loving girl. I felt relief sweep through me as I held her. I loved Alison, not because Mark or Mary made me, but because I really loved her. I wrapped my arms around her, holding mi Sirenita, my little mermaid, to me. I found her full lips and kissed her, tasting the watermelon lip gloss she wore.

When I broke the kiss, Alison’s brown eyes shined with love. I stroked her face, ran my hands through her bubblegum-pink hair. It was a shame she dyed it. Alison showed me a picture of her a year ago and she had the most beautiful, honey-brown hair. Alison’s left hand grabbed mine, the diamond engagement ring sparkling on her finger. When I saw the ring I just knew it was perfect, two mermaids were engraved on the band, their arms were the mount for the diamond. Alison brought my hand down to her bodice. We were both wearing the disgusting maid outfits that Mark liked us to wear. Outfits with transparent bodices that exposed our breasts and skirts so short that when we bent over our butts and vaginas were exposed. It was just obscene.

Alison took my hand and shoved it down her bodice. I could feel her full breast and the silver barbell that pierced her nipple. “Do you still love me?” Alison asked as I fondled her breast.

“Yes, mi Sirenita,” I purred.

Somehow, this beautiful creature had captured my heart. Maybe it was the fact we were thrown together and forced to share a bed, maybe I was always attracted to women, deep down inside me. Maybe she was my soulmate. I didn’t know. All I knew is that I’ve never felt anything for another person like I do for her. Well, that wasn’t true. I felt this way to Mark and Mary before they freed me from their spell. But, this was real. I gave her breast a nice squeeze.

“Good,” she whispered and pulled my face down to kiss me again as I played with her breast.

Alison deftly maneuvered me to the bed as we kissed and pushed me down to sit on the mattress; I was breathing heavily as she quickly shrugged off the maid’s outfit, revealing all her naked beauty. She was young, only seventeen, and had the perky curves of a teenager. Her skin was pale and beautiful and soft as silk. Her pussy was shaved and she had tattooed, “Cum on in,” with an arrow that pointed down to her pussy.

I grabbed her hips and pulled her to me, kissing her flat belly. I slipped off the bed so I was kneeling before her, my face inches from her tight pussy. Her clit was hard, peaking out of its hood, and I could smell her honey. Her thighs parted eagerly for my lips and I licked up her slit. I could feel her body tremble with pleasure as my tongue caressed her.

“Oh, fuck that’s nice,” Alison moaned. “Umm, I love it when you eat my pussy, Desiree.”

I spread open her clam, and licked around her pink, wrinkled labia, gathering a tongue-full of her sweet honey. I sucked her labia into my mouth, enjoying the feel of her intimate flesh on my lips before I kissed higher up to her clitoris. I swirled my tongue around her little pearl and Alison gave a sharp intake of pleasure.

“You keep that up and you’re gonna make me cum,” Alison purred.

“Promise?” I asked with a saucy smile.

Alison laughed and then moaned as I dived back into her delicious pussy. I decided to follow her tattoo’s instructions and shoved two fingers up inside her hungry clam. Alison’s fingers were digging into my hair as I slowly fucked them in and out. I went back to nibbling on her clit, ever so gently. Her hips were starting to rotate, grinding her sweet clam on my lips as her pleasure mounted inside her.

“Umm, yes! Oh yes!” she purred in delight. “Just keep playing with my button! Umm, yes, right there! Oh, fuck! Desiree! I’m cumming! Oh, my Latin beauty!”

My mouth was rewarded with some fresh juices as Alison creamed my lips. Her body shook on my lips as a nice orgasm spread through her. I kept eating her out, wanting to give mi Sirenita another cum. I pumped my fingers in and out of her faster, bent them just so, and found her G-spot. She bucked on my face as a second, stronger orgasm swept through her.

“Oh fuck! That was amazing, Desiree!”

I looked up at her, my face sticky with her juices as she smiled happily back down at me. I stood up and she kissed me, her tongue lapping up her juices. Her fingers were behind me, finding the outfit’s zipper and suddenly the disgusting maid outfit was falling off my lush curves. Alison smiled, staring lustily at my large, nut-brown breasts. She reached out, hefting one of my melons, squeezing it with her hand, then bent down and swirled her pierced tongue about my hard nipple. I moaned in delight, enjoying the feel of her metal stud against my nub.

“Let me get the strap-on,” Alison happily told me.

I stretched out on our bed and watched Alison’s ass as she bent down to root in our dresser. Her tight, wet slit was on display between her slim thighs, swollen and flushed from her orgasms. She found the strap-on, pulling the clear, plastic harness up her legs. A hot-pink dildo was attached to the front, and Alison expertly tightened the straps. We had a lot of experience using it on each other. Alison posed, stroking her fake cock. The only other thing she wore was a gold choker, her name written in diamonds.

A similar choker was about my neck, my name written in onyxes. It proclaimed me the slut of Mark and Mary. Sudden anger blossomed inside me and I reached behind my neck to take the vile slave collar off.

“What are you doing?” Alison gasped.

I frowned at her. “I’m taking this damned thing off.”

“You don’t want to be their slut anymore?” Alison asked. There were tears brimming in her eyes.

“You do?” I asked, stunned. Why would Alison want to stay with them?

Alison sat on the bed next to me, taking my dark hands in her pale grip, kissing my knuckles. “I wanted to be Mark’s slave,” she confessed. “I’ve always fantasized about being submissive to a powerful man. When I discovered Mark was fucking Lillian while she was cashiering at Hot Topic, I got so wet.” A smile appeared on her lips and her eyes became distant. “When Mark fucked me in the store, I came so hard. I was so happy when he asked me to be his sex slave, Desiree. Almost as happy as when you proposed to me.”

“What about us?” I asked her. “I thought you loved me?”

“I do,” she protested. “We can both be theirs, Desiree. Together.”

I was horrified. “I can’t, Alison. Please don’t ask me to do this!”

“How is this any different than Brandon?” Alison asked me. “You married him for his money, submitted to his lusts for a comfortable life. Master and Mistress will give us all we desire. All we have to do is satisfy their lusts.” A naughty smile appeared on her lips. “And don’t tell me you hated the sex.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but no words came out. She was right. I had enjoyed it. The best sex I ever had. She sensed my hesitation and pounced on me, kissing me with her hungry lips. Could I submit to them, be their slave? I married Brandon for his money, for the comforts he could give me. I let the disgusting man paw at my body. At least I enjoyed the sex with Mark and Mary.

My legs parted for Alison, I moaned into her sweet lips as the dildo prodded my clam. I reached down, grabbing the plastic cock and guided it inside me. Alison eagerly slammed it home inside me, pumping her ass vigorously. My hands reached out, grabbing her tight, teenage ass and pulling her into me. I could feel her hard nipples, and the harder nipple piercings, rubbing against my pillowy chest. Every time Alison buried the dildo in my cunt, the harness ground against my clit, building my pleasure.

“Let’s be slaves together,” Alison panted, her breath hot on my ear. I shivered as her tongue traced my earlobe. “We’ll be slut-wives! Pleasing each other when Master and Mistress do not need us. Oh, please be my slut-wife, Desiree! Please, please, please!”

My fingernails bit into Alison’s ass as my orgasm crashed through me. “Yes!” I howled. “Oh, yes! I’ll be your slut-wife!”

Alison’s happy smile was worth it. She had the same happy smile when I proposed to her. It took me a moment to realize the same smile was gracing my lips. I grabbed her pink tresses and pulled her lips down to mine and kissed my fiancee, my future slut-wife, as tears of happiness rolled down my cheeks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

April Lovel

I stayed quiet as the argument raged, sitting quietly at the table. Across from me, Violet sat just as quietly. Everyone was slipping away. Fiona in an angry huff, Lillian and Noel arguing, Thamina in a daze. I didn’t even notice when Alison and Desiree slipped out. Sam gathered up her translations and walked into Mary’s studio. Jessica calmly walked out, followed by a puzzled Willow.

I was just confused.

I vividly remember Mark bringing Felicity and I to his house. We were both virgins and it was such an exciting day. Mark taught me to suck his cock, then I was lying on the bed, next to Felicity, as Mark ate out my pussy, and Mary ate out Felicity’s pussy. I had such an amazing orgasm. And then Mark mounted me and took my virginity and I found myself falling in love with him. And I remembered how hurt I had been when they kicked me out of the bedroom. I gave Mark my virginity, my innocent heart, and he tossed me aside.

And I pined after him over the weekend.

And them Mary appeared at my school. And I became her slave. And then I got to be Mark’s slave and I was so happy. I got to be with the man whom I’d given my heart to, my innocence to. The last week had been so amazing. Even freed of his…what? Spell? I still didn’t regret Mark taking my virginity. But did I want to continue being his…slut?

I’d be giving up my dreams of going to Digipan and learning to program video games. Was Mark worth it? I would be happy. And Mark must love me if he gave me this freedom. Mary liked to talk about how much Mark loved her and that’s why he freed her. Well, Mark must love me too. I smiled, Mark loved me, and that thought sent happy butterflies flapping through my stomach.

I glanced up at Violet and saw tears running down her face.

I moved around the table, sat next to her and hugged the pretty, innocent teen. “It’ll be alright, Violet,” I told her.

“I…don’t…want…” she sobbed, “to…go…back…home…”

“Shh, you don’t have to go home,” I told her.

“But…but Master and Mistress…they don’t….want me…anymore.”

I hugged her. “Of course they do,” I told her, kissing her salty cheek. “They just love us so much, they are giving us the choice to stay with them.”

“Really?” Violet asked, rubbing her face. Her eyes were red and puffy from her crying, and it just made her look even cuter.

“Yes.”

“I don’t have to go back to my mom?”

“No,” I said firmly.

And she relaxed, a tremulous smile on her lips. “Good.” She reached out and grabbed my hand. “Are you staying, April?” she asked me.

“Of course,” I told her. Master loved me. And Mistress, too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fiona Cavanagh

Shame burned through my body as I cried on the curb outside of the house. I was wearing the disgusting clothes Mark made me wear and the memory of all the times I was forced to…pleasure him and Mary curdled my stomach. I ripped the choker off my neck and heaved it off into the bushes and sobbed into my hands.

Someone sat down next to me. Through my tear-filled eyes I saw Thamina, dressed as modestly as she could, which was not that much, her colorful headscarf wrapped about her head. No choker encircled her throat. She wasn’t an idiot like Lillian who seemed to find it just fine that Mark essentially raped all of us.

“I know,” Thamina whispered comfortingly. “Come with me.”

“Where?” I asked. I had nowhere to go. No car, no phone, no money. I left everything behind when Mark took me. I left Hank behind. Another sob threatened to overwhelm me as I thought of my boyfriend. He must be sick with worry. I vaguely remembered Jessica saying he filed a missing-person report on me.

“My place,” Thamina said, holding her keys. Mark gave Thamina a SUV for winning the masturbation contest. Another shudder of disgust went through me. I had masturbated in public for Mark. A crowd of people watched us, made bets on us. Filmed us with their phones. I felt so dirty; I needed to scrub the filth off my skin.

Thamina’s white Ford Escape had somehow escaped the firefight untouched. The garage door was open and I could see Mark’s Mustang leaking antifreeze from a round that went through the front grill. Good. The bastard deserves that, and more, to happen to him. I climbed into the passenger seat and Thamina started up the SUV and we drove down the street.

Out front there was a media circus being managed by the Puyallup Police under Mark’s control. There was a young, teenage girl with black hair in a plaited braid and a smiling face. She wore a red sundress decorated with white flowers and was taking a picture of herself in front of the sign of the neighborhood.

We drove in silence to Thamina’s apartment near Canyon Road. Deer Creek Apartments was the name, one of those gated-communities. Thamina almost forgot her code when we pulled up to the security box and it took three tries before she punched it in right. “I don’t know where my remote for the gate is,” Thamina explained, clearly embarrassed about forgetting the code.

“It’s alright, Thamina,” I told her, patting her knee.

She pulled into her parking spot, and led me up to the third floor apartment. She unlocked the door and went in. “It’s been more than two weeks since I’ve been home.”

“Me, too,” I replied, bitterly. I saw her phone and asked if I could use it. Thamina gave me a nod as she disappeared into her bedroom.

“Hi,” a woman’s voice answered when I called the apartment I shared with Hank, my boyfriend.

“Oh, hello,” I said in surprise. Who was this woman in my apartment? Did I call the right number? “Is Hank there?”

“Who wants to know,” the woman asked coldly. There was a possessive tone to her voice that caused my stomach to sink.

Hank had already replaced me. I slammed the phone down and fell to the floor. We had been dating for two years and he replaces me in two weeks? My body rocked with sobs. God damn Mark fucking Glassner. Why me! Why did you have to choose me and ruin my life! I was happy. Things were going great with Hank!

“It will be alright,” Thamina murmured, hugging me.

She was dressed in a long, dark skirt and very conservative blouse. A blue and red headscarf was wrapped around her head, leaving only her round, dusky face with those sexy, dark eyes. I licked my lips, a heat flushing through my body. Her lips were red and moist and I felt drawn to them. I could feel her body stiffen as I kissed those lips, then she was pushing away from me.

“What are you doing, Fiona?” she asked.

What was I doing? “I don’t know,” I told her. “Christ, the last two weeks have screwed my head all up. I just couldn’t resist kissing you. I…I’m sorry. I’ll leave.”

I went to stand up and she caught my hand and pulled me back and kissed me and it was my turn to stiffen in surprise. “You are not the only one that has changed,” Thamina said, disgust painting her face. “I know it is wrong, a sin, for women to be together. But…”

“You just can’t control yourself?” I asked.

“Yes,” she sighed in resignation and pulled me in for a second kiss.

Her lips were soft and tender. I stroked her face and brushed her headscarf. I pulled it off, her black hair falling free and beautiful about her head. Our kiss became more passionate, my tongue pressing against her lips, and they parted to let me in. I felt her gentle hand stroking my shoulder, then slide down the slope of my breast. I felt the low-cut blouse I was wearing get pushed down and my hard nipple exposed. Her finger gently traced my areola, sending a tingling pleasure throughout my body.

“Oh, Thamina,” I sighed as she bent down and captured my nipple with her sucking lips. I cradled her head to my breast, running my fingers through her silky hair. “Oh, that’s nice.”

Thamina licked her way back up my chest and throat and we were kissing again. My fingers fumbled at the buttons to her blouse as we kissed. Finally, I pushed open her blouse and felt a bra about her breasts. I slid my hands around to her back and found the clasp. It was harder to unclasp another person’s bra then my own, I realized. I finally got the clasp unhooked and broke the kiss to look down at her dusky breasts and her dark nipples.

“Fiona,” Thamina murmured as I sucked her nipple into my mouth. “This is so wrong.”

“Then stop,” I told her. I was too horny to care about right and wrong.

“I can’t,” she sighed, and we were kissing again, her body pressing against mine. The straps of my blouse slipped off my shoulders, exposing both my breasts, and I could feel Thamina’s hard nipples kissing my own nipples.

I pushed Thamina back, lowering her to the floor and settling on top of her. Her hands pulled the thong I was wearing off and pushed up my skirt. I pulled up her long skirt until it bunched about her waist. She was wearing plain, boring panties and I pulled those off of her, exposing a V of black hair that pointed right at her waxed, wet cunt. I grimaced, my pussy was waxed bare because of Mark’s perversions, too.

“Oh, Fiona,” she sighed as I settled atop her, our clits rubbing against each other as I started to trib her. “Ohh, that feels so nice!”

I ground my clit into her, moaning wantonly. “Your clit feels so good on mine,” I purred to Thamina and her hands caught my strawberry-blonde hair and pulled me down to kiss her.

Our hips rolled and pumped as we tribbed each other. Thamina’s hands roamed my back, her fingers lightly tracing my muscles and spine, leaving little trails of fire across my skin. I rubbed our clits together with hard, slow thrusts of my hips, building the pleasure inside me. My ass flexed and her gentle hands were suddenly groping my plump cheeks, pulling me harder into her pussy.

“Fiona! Fiona!” Thamina gasped. “Oh, you are driving me crazy!”

Harder, faster, I ground our clits together. Thamina bucked beneath me as her orgasm exploded inside her. She gasped so sweetly, squeezing my ass almost painfully as her passion overcame her. I rubbed against her clit once, twice, and then I screamed out her name as my pussy convulsed and my orgasm surged through my body.

“Wow,” I whispered and settled my weight on Thamina to cuddle with her and enjoy the post-orgasmic bliss.

But, Thamina pushed me off her and pushed her skirt down. Buttoning up her blouse she whispered, “That was wrong, Fiona. We can’t do this again.”

“Then why did it feel so good?”

“It felt good with Mark and Mary,” Thamina answered. “That didn’t change how wrong it was, did it?”

No. It really didn’t.

But, it did happen again. I went to take a shower and, to my delighted shock, Thamina slipped in and we rubbed our pussies on each other’s thighs beneath the warm water. And then it happened while we shared her bed for the night. And once more when we woke up in the morning. After every time we made love, Thamina would say it was the last, that it was wrong, and every time she would be the one to kiss me first.

“Do you need a place to stay?” Thamina asked as we ate a simple breakfast of pancakes. It was the only food in the apartment that hadn’t gone bad.

“Yeah,” I answered, hopeful.

“Then, you can stay here.” Thamina took a deep breath. “But, do not expect us to do that again.”

“Of course not,” I said, nodding soberly. I grabbed my plate and went to her sink to start rinsing it when I felt her body press against mine from behind.

“We can’t do it anymore,” she whispered as her lips found the back of my neck. “Because it’s wrong.”

Her hand slid up my thigh underneath my skirt and I moaned softly when she found my bare pussy. I didn’t know what Thamina and I had. It certainly wasn’t love. But it was comforting. I gasped as she slipped a finger up inside me. Comforting and fun.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jessica St. Pierre

I didn’t know what to think when Mark freed me from his…power? Spell? I didn’t really know what to call it. Who would think magic and all that crap was real? What I did know is that I needed a drink. I found my car still parked out on the street. My poor baby, a powder-blue Prius, had a passenger window shot out and a bullet hole in the trunk. Sighing, I climbed into the car, pushed the button to start it up, and drove away.

American Joes was the first bar I found. It looked like a dive, but I didn’t care. I needed a drink, desperately. I walked in; the few men in the pub were fixed on the TV. It was Debra reporting about what happened this afternoon. My heart began to hammer. I spent the firefight crouched behind a car, next to Debra, as her cameraman fearlessly filmed the firefight. “I was in Fallujah during the Surge,” he said dismissively when Debra suggested he take some cover.

I had never felt so alive as during those few minutes. It was almost intoxicating. Being around Mark and Mary was intoxicating, too. I sipped on my Coors lite. It was wrong what Mark did to me, that was painfully obvious. But, Mark was a powerful man. And he was only growing more and more powerful. And powerful men got what they wanted.

I could help him. I could be there, in the thick of it. Mark already relied on me to help the media. And so what if he fucked me. The sex was amazing. I could feel my pussy moistening in my silk panties just thinking about it. Mark was so powerful, and I could be one of his favorite women. I shuddered at the thought. I pulled my choker out of my pocket. Made of gold, with my name written in sapphires. I rubbed the engraving: “Mark and Mary’s slut forever.”

Forever. Forever the lover of the most powerful man in the world. There was no doubt in my mind just how powerful Mark was after today. He healed himself after he got shot five times, for Pete’s sake. Finishing off my beer, I clasped the choker about my throat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Samnag “Sam” Soun

I sat the Magicks of the Witch of Endor and my dictionaries and reference books down on the desk in Mary’s studio, next to one of the computers. The last few days had definitely been strange. One minute I was working on my Ph.D. dissertation, the next I was being made the plaything of Mark and Mary, and then they asked me to translate this book.

The really wild part was all the spells and rituals in the book were real. Mark sold his soul for power and used that power to control me. I was torn, I did not want to be his plaything, but the magic was so intriguing. There were just such fascinating spells in it! There was a spell that could steal a nun’s powers and give it to a Warlock. Another spell let you summon the spirits of the dead to scry with. The book told you how to summon a variety of demons: Asherah, Marduk, Lilith, Hadath, Molech, Astarte, Chemosh, Baal-zebub, Dagon, Tammuz, Milcom, Ashtoreth, and, of course, Lucifer. The very being Mark and Mary apparently got their powers from. And there were magics in here even I could perform. Most required you to sell your soul, but anyone could conjure the dead or heal the sick and I found one spell that only a woman could cast.

I flushed, remembering what the spell did. It allowed a woman to conjure her own cock. Allowing a woman to ‘have the seed of life like a man, and plant that seed in a fertile vessel.’ What would it be like to have my own cock? It was such a disgusting idea, and yet an itch was forming in my pussy, my juices puddling on the leather seat of the chair.

I slid my hands down my naked flesh, down to my waxed pussy. On Monday, Mary sent me to this salon to get my thick, black bush waxed. It was weird, feeling bare down there, and strange to play with my pussy and not feel my wiry hair tickling my fingers as they slowly got matted-down with my juices. I teased my slit, running my hand up and down my labia. My breath caught as I pictured a cock thrusting out from me as I pinched my clit.

I imagined bending caramel-skinned Jessica over the couch. She would moan as I slid my cock inside her warm pussy. I slipped my fingers up inside me, imagining that’s what Jessica’s pussy would feel like around my cock, all warm and slippery. Jessica would gasp and pant, and moan so beautifully as I fucked her. Her caramel breasts would shake from my thrusts, waving her dark nipples about. I would spank her ass as I fucked her, and pull on her honey-brown hair.

I dug my fingers faster and faster into my cunt, pinching my clit with my other hand. I leaned back in the computer chair. Jessica would cum on my cock, her pussy clenching, and she would gasp my name. I shuddered on the chair, my pussy clenching about my fingers as a nice cum washed through me.

Breathing heavily, I sucked my fingers clean of my tangy, spicy flavor. I grabbed my notes and found the passage for the Shophkah spell, reading the ritual again. It was simple. I just needed a woman to lie with. I chewed on my fingernail as I debated performing the spell. This might be my last night of freedom. Just because Mark and Mary say they’ll free us, I don’t think they’ll free me. They need the knowledge in this book. They need me.

Where could I find a woman to fuck? There was a club I heard the other sluts talk about. One that Mary liked to go to. Some lesbian club called the something Diver. The Cake Diver? No, that couldn’t be it. I pulled out my smart phone and did a search and found a club in Tacoma called the Clam Diver.

I went down into the basement where the bed I shared with Xiu was. She was a nasty girl, I learned. Loved to be hurt. The more you hurt her, the wetter she got. I went to the dresser I shared with Xiu. Mary had me go shopping on Monday to get “appropriate clothing,” as she put it, after the waxing. I found a tight, blue dress covered in sequins. The skirt was very short, and while the bodice went up to my neck, an oval was cut out exposing the inner slopes of my breasts.

I called for a taxi and paid with my debit card. As the cab drove me to Tacoma, I thought about my future. I wouldn’t be Mark and Mary’s sex slave again, not if I could help it. But, maybe, they would let me be their…adviser. Their Vizier. I could inform them about the magic and maybe I would make my own deal with the devil. As long as I stayed subservient to them, there’s no reason that I couldn’t have some fun.

The music in the club was a booming dubstep. It was dark inside, various colored spotlights flashing about the club. There was a bar and circular tables on one side, and a large dance floor on the other. The club was filled with women of all shapes and races: lipstick lesbians, punk girls with spiked hair, butch women with short hair, goth girls in depressing blacks, and many more.

I had fun, dancing and grinding on a few girls. I hit it off with this one girl who had the most unusual hair. Half was dyed bubblegum pink, the other half cotton-candy blue. In fact, her name was Candy and whether that was her real name or an affectation, I didn’t know. She found my glasses cute, and we were soon making out on one of the couches that lined the wall of the club.

Candy was quite affectionate, and her mouth as sweet as candy. She was short, like me, and very curvy, unlike me. Her hand slipped under my short skirt and started playing with my shaved pussy as we kissed. Feeling bold, I pushed up her skirt and discovered she wasn’t wearing panties. I ran my finger through her smooth pussy. I gathered up a copious coating of her juices and sucked them into my mouth. “Umm, you taste as sweet as candy,” I joked.

She licked her lips. “Why do you think I’m called Candy?”

I laughed and kissed her again. She grabbed my hips and pulled me into her and our clits started rubbing together. The spell required me to ‘lie with a woman as if I were a man, and fully know her,’ and it sounded like a euphemism for tribadism. When I ‘fully know her,’ which I’m hoping means the both of us cumming, I was to utter the Hebrew word for cock, Shophkah. All the spells that I had seen were Hebrew words. I had only translated maybe a sixth of the book and skimmed the rest.

Our pussies ground together harder and faster, our orgasms building. “Oh yes!” Candy gasped. “Oh, god yes! I love this couch! I always get lucky on this couch!”

I rubbed harder and harder. “Oh yeah, who else have you done this with!”

“Oh, this beautiful, auburn-haired woman!” she gasped. “Two weeks ago. She was the most stunningly gorgeous woman in the world!”

She was talking about Mary, I realized. What a small world. Our clits were rubbing hard together as we pleasured each other. Candy was moaning wordlessly, her finger slipping into the cleft of my buttocks and teasing my asshole. When her finger slid into my ass, I slammed my clit into hers at the sudden intrusion. Candy bucked beneath me as she came.

“Fuck, fuck, that’s so good!” she shrieked, wiggling her finger deeper into my bowels.

I felt my orgasm shudder through me and I moaned one word, “Shophkah!”

Warmth bubbled up in my pussy and pleasure shook through my body as my clitoris became red hot. I moaned and felt pleasure as my clit engorged and lengthened, pushing into Candy’s pussy as it grew. I was suddenly surrounded by her warm, slippery flesh. It was better than I imagined it would be. My hips started pumping my cock inside her delightful cunt.

Candy’s eyes opened in shock. “What the fuck!” she gasped. “Is that a dildo?”

I didn’t answer her, I was too lost in the pleasure around my cock to care about anything other than pumping it in and out of her pussy. Candy’s hand wormed between our bodies, sliding down to feel where my cock penetrated her cunt. Her fingers wrapped around the shaft of my cock and followed it up to my groin. I could see her eyes widen in amazement as she realized what she felt. Her fingers slipped underneath and found my wet pussy.

“Holy shit! You have a cock, now!”

“Yeah,” I panted, fucking her harder and harder.

“How?”

“Magic.”

She let out a throaty moan. “I love magic!” Her hips started thrusting up to meet me and I kissed her sweet lips.

My cock felt so amazing in her slippery depths. I was completely enveloped in warm, soft flesh. Every movement of my cock built the pleasure mounting inside me. I fucked her faster and faster, feeling an overwhelming urge to cum as fast as possible. God, no wonder guys were so quick to finish. This urge was almost driving all thoughts from my mind. I just needed to cum.

I groaned loudly as this pressure shot out from my ovaries and out through my cock and I spilt my seed into Candy’s sweet cunt. “Oh my god, you can cum!” she gasped. “Holy shit!” More blasts flooded her pussy as she came a second time, her cunt contracting pleasantly about my cock. “Holy shit!” Candy panted one more time.

I concentrated, the spell said I could summon and dismiss the cock at will, and I felt my cock shrinking and withdrawing from her cunt until it was back to being my tiny little clit. Candy just gaped, rubbing her eyes as she saw my dick-less groin.

“Wow, oh, wow! Can you fuck me with that again?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lillian Franks

I didn’t get why the other girls were upset. Being Mark and Mary’s sluts was so rewarding. I was so jealous that day when I first met Mark and he took Alison as his sex slave and left me to work the rest of my shift at Hot Topic with a cunt full of his cum. I stalked out of the house, I didn’t see the point in hanging around with these ungrateful ladies. If they wanted to throw away the great honor of being Mark’s slut, fine with me. More Master and Mistress for me to fuck.

Feeling horny, I decided not to waste the opportunity of having the night to myself and grabbed my phone, looking up this hot piece of ass’s number. “Hey Zelda,” I said when she answered the phone.

Zelda was this cute, punk girl I fucked a few weeks ago. I met her at Hot Topic when Master came in the second time and made me his slut. I filmed our fucking so Master and Mistress could watch it later. She was a great lay and I wouldn’t mind making it with the girl again.

“You never called me back,” Zelda pouted. “I thought we had a great time.”

“We did,” I quickly told her. “In fact, I’m looking to have another good time.”

Zelda gave a wicked laugh. “I bet Spike would just love that.”

“Spike?” I asked. “Is he cute?”

Zelda purred. “You’ll just want to eat him up. Come on over.”

I pulled on a red corset and a very short, black skirt trimmed with black lace. Thigh-high, fishnet stockings covered my pale legs, held up by a black garter belt. I didn’t bother with the panties. I pulled my black hair, streaked with blue and purple highlights, into two pigtails. I looked hot. My gold choker glinted prettily around my neck so everyone could see who I belonged to. I happily headed outside to my blue Fusion Hybrid. I frowned, the passenger door had three bullet holes in it and the passenger seat was leaking stuffing.

Oh well, Master had the money to fix it. I hopped in, and started up my car. I had won a masturbation contest to get this car. That had been exciting, pleasuring myself while a bunch of strangers watched. It was so nasty. That’s why I loved being their slave, I got to do all these nasty, fun things. I gunned the car, and roared out of the street, past all the media, and took off to Zelda’s apartment.

She didn’t live too far away, Chestnut Hill apartments off Meridian, halfway down South Hill into the Puyallup Valley and downtown Puyallup. I parked my car in front of the M building and climbed up the stairs to the third floor and knocked on the door. Zelda opened it, wearing only a skimpy, black thong. Her small breasts had gold rings pierced through her nipples and tattooed on her right breast was a green serpent coiled about her tit. That was new, she didn’t have that two weeks ago. The serpent’s tongue flicked out pink towards her areola to lick at her nipple. A sultry grin appeared on her almost-cute face. She would be cute, except her hair was spiked up into a black mohawk streaked with red, the sides shaved off.

“Slut,” Zelda smiled and grabbed my pigtail and pulled me in for a kiss. My hands found her breasts, pulling on her nipple rings as her tongue stabbed into my lips and roughly wrestled with my tongue. She broke the kiss and pulled me into the apartment by my pigtail.

Sitting on her couch was a cute guy wearing only a pair of ripped jeans. His chest was muscular and hairless. His face had a chiseled chin and deep, blue eyes. Just like Master’s eyes. His hair was shaved and black spikes were pierced through his eyebrows, a black bull’s ring pierced his nose, and both of his ear lobes were distorted by wide, black ear expanders.

“This that girl?” Spike grunted, taking a pull from a brown-bottled beer. A grin split his lips. “You’re one hot chick. Zelda says you like to party.”

“I love to party,” I purred.

“What’s this about your throat?” Zelda asked, fingering my choker. “Mark and Mary’s slut forever,” she read and frowned. “Wait, not that Mark?”

I grinned at her.

“Holy shit,” Spike gasped. “That was wild what happened today. Did he really die and come back to life?”

I blinked. “Well, he was shot in the chest a bunch and…” my voice broke. The image of Master lying bleeding on the lawn would haunt me for the rest of my life. Get yourself together, slut, he’s alive. “We thought he was going to die and then he was all better.”

“Fuck,” Zelda muttered. “Is he, like, a God or something?”

A God? He could do some amazing things. Both of them could. “Maybe he is,” I answered. “And I’m one of his favorites.”

Spike pulled me to him and I sat down on the couch next to him. He boldly pulled up my skirt exposing my shaved cunt, his fingers ran down my slit then shoved roughly inside me. I gasped in the mix of pleasure and discomfort. “So a God’s cock has been up here?”

His thick fingers were pushing in and out of my cunt. “Yes,” I hissed. Zelda sank down on the other side of me, her fingers unlacing the black ties of my corset. The corset loosened enough for Zelda to fish out my left breast and I moaned as her lips kissed my nipple, then she softly bit it with her teeth. I jumped when Spike’s thumb started rubbing hard on my clit. “Oh, fuck!” I moaned.

Spike unzipped his jeans and pulled out a hard, thick cock. A silver ring pierced the cock’s head, below the urethra. A Prince Albert piercing, I thought with a wicked smile. “You feel wet enough, babe,” Spike moaned, climbing atop me.

I spread my legs eagerly for him. “Fuck the slut,” Zelda urged.

His cock nudged at my pussy. I groaned as he slid into me, the ring rubbing deliciously down the length of my pussy as he filled me up. He drew back and slammed into me again. God, his cock felt so good inside me. I always loved fucking a guy with a pierced cock. Zelda kissed me as my pussy was getting pounded by Spike.

“Fuck, fuck you’re tight, babe!” Spike moaned, his balls slapping against my taint with every thrust. “Fuck, fuck! I can see why a God would fuck you! This is some grade A cunt I’m getting!”

My orgasm was building quickly as the metal ring rubbed against my pussy’s walls. I gasped into Zelda’s greedy mouth as her hand slid down and found my little clit and started rubbing it. I writhed beneath Spike as my cum exploded through my cunt, squeezing down on his big cock. He kept right on fucking me, pounding me harder and harder. My insides were on fire and Zelda kept playing with my clit.

I broke the kiss, gasping, “Oh fuck, I’m cumming again! Ohh, keep fucking me! Yes, Yes!” Zelda’s finger was making my clit feel amazing as she stroked it. “Fuck, keep playing with my clit, slut! Ummm, yes!”

“I’m gonna cum in your pussy,” Spike grunted. “I bet you’re the type of slut that loves it when a guy busts his nut inside her!”

“Oh yes,” I panted. “Flood my naughty little cunt with your cum! I’m goin’ to make Zelda lick it all out!”

Zelda pinched my nipple. “You think so, slut?”

“Yes!” I screamed as a third orgasm crashed through me. Spike groaned as my pussy hungrily milked his cum from his balls. I loved the feeling of hot cum splashing inside me. Spike pulled out and buried himself one last time inside me, before his cock withdrew, leaving me empty. I could feel his cum run out wetly.

“Clean her pussy out, Zelda!” Spike barked. Then a grin broke out on his face. “She’s got to be clean for her God.”

I moaned as Zelda’s head bent down and lapped at my messy cunt. Spike was right, Master wouldn’t be pleased if my cunt was full of some other man’s cum, tomorrow. I came a fourth time as Zelda’s skilled tongue found all of Spike’s cum inside me. And then, I got to return the favor to Zelda, licking out Spike’s cum from her tasty snatch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Korina Stavros

I slipped silently out of the kitchen as Fiona and Lillian fought, wandering upstairs. I entered Master and Mistress’s bedroom, crawling onto their bed. I rubbed my cheek against their sheets and hugged their pillow. I could smell their scent and felt loved.

I was carrying Master’s baby, I thought happily.

My arm ached from where I got shot, and I shifted to get more comfortable. Maybe it was wrong what they did to me, but I enjoyed every minute of it. Even drinking another woman’s pee. Fiona didn’t seem to be as happy about being their slut. That was a shame, I had come to love drinking her pee. I was pregnant and that changed everything for me. Maybe I would be more angry if it wasn’t for the baby. Or maybe not. Master told me he loved me, and so did Mistress. My child would be loved and cared for, and that is what’s most important.

So there was no question in my mind what I would do. I fingered the gold choker, tight about my throat, tracing the opal stones set in a plate on the front. Korina, the opals spelled, and below that I traced the words engraved, “Mark and Mary’s slut forever.” I was their slut, forever. It was engraved on my choker.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dr. Willow WolfTail

I drove.

When I need to think, I like to get in my red Prius and drive. It didn’t matter where I drove, just that I kept moving. I had been Dr. Willow WolfTail, OB/GYN and wife of Yancy Coleman. But, what was I, now? Mark and Mary’s sex slave. I frowned, no I would not be that. Yancy’s wife? I shook my head, no I signed those divorce papers last week.

I never should have married Yancy. We had just been together for so long, I just didn’t know how to get off the train. So, I said, “Yes,” when he proposed and I said, “I do,” when the minister asked the question. It made my family happy, it made Yancy happy. I told myself that it made me happy. But, it didn’t.

So, was I still a doctor?

That was the one thing Mark and Mary left me. They wanted me to run their free clinic. Mary told me all about her plans. The clinic’s real purpose was to find them young women to be whores for them. But, that seemed to be changing. Mary was starting to be more focused on actually helping these women. I pictured examining all those young, nubile girls and felt a flush of warmth through my body. My time as their sex slave has definitely warped my sexual appetites.

Maybe I couldn’t be their sex slave, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t run their clinic. For a price.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Agent Noel Heinrich

“I need a transfer,” I told ASAC Donavan when I entered his office.

“I thought you were happy with your, um, undercover assignment,” Donavan said. “You seemed so committed last week.”

I shivered as he leered at me. He had watched me fuck Mark Glassner in this very building. Well, that’s when I was Mark’s slave. Now, I wanted to get as far away from the creep as I could. Far away from all the people he’s enslaved, and my memories. Grief almost overwhelmed me, but I beat it down. I didn’t need that know.

“Just send me far away,” I begged. “Mark approved it.” A lie. Well, if Mark was honest about letting me go, I guess it really wasn’t.

“Well, if that’s what Mark wants,” Donavan said, and a hint of awe appeared in his voice. Jeez, was he one of those idiots buying that bull about Mark being a god? When I left the house, a group of those idiots were gathering outside with signs proclaiming Mark and Mary to be their Gods. Blind fucking idiots.

“It is,” I told him, rubbing at my neck. It felt good to have that damned choker off. I threw it into the Puyallup River on my way here. Let the fish be his damned sex slave. I was through being a man’s plaything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This is like a dream, Tiffany,” my husband said to me as we cuddled in bed.

We were both naked, my pussy aching pleasantly from our lovemaking. I stroked his chest, idly, my body pressed up against his side. It was a dream. I never thought I would be with my husband again. To hold him, and kiss him, and to feel him inside me. I wasn’t a nun anymore, I realized, I would have to get on birth control or we’d have another child.

“I love you, Sean,” I told him, squeezing him tightly. He smiled and we kissed. “I need to tell you something.” I bit my lip as he nodded. “I…I was with other people, while we were separated.”

“It’s okay,” Sean answered. “That’s all in the past.”

“Is it okay?” I asked. “I had many lovers. I was your wife and…”

“Technically, we were divorced,” he pointed out. “We still are divorced, I guess. Besides, I had women, too.”

I frowned. “Mary said you never dated.”

“No, but there were, um, women, from time to time,” he admitted.

“Who?” I asked, curious. “Why would you keep it from the girls?” A guilty flush appeared on his face and my eyes widened in realization. “Your high school students?”

“Yeah,” he sheepishly answered. “They were all willing. You know, the cool teacher thing turns some girls on. But, it was only after you left, Tif.”

“Well, I guess what was in the past is in the past,” I told Sean. “We have our new future to build. And, well, I think I’d like another child. So, I could see,” tears were filling my eyes, “…so I could see one of my children grow up.”

Sean gently brushed a tear away. “I’m old enough to be a grandpa, now. Are you sure?”

I laughed. “I know, you got old. I can’t believe there’s gray in your hair.”

“And you got younger. So not fair, Tif.”

“Oh, would you rather I got old and fat like you?” I teased.

His lips found mine. “No, you’re as beautiful as the day I met you.”

I could feel his cock hardening against my thigh. “Again?” I asked in surprise.

“They say a young, beautiful woman is the best Viagra,” Sean quipped as he pulled me atop him. “Besides, someone wants a child.”

I smiled happily as I felt his cock prodding at the entrance to my pussy and I slid down Sean’s body, forcing his wonderfully hard dick inside me. I moaned in delight as Sean filled me up. I rose up, thrusting my perky breasts forward. I slowly started riding Sean, rolling my hips as I slid up and down his shaft. Sean’s hands slid up my flat stomach to cup my breasts.

“You’re so beautiful, Tif!” he moaned. “Would you marry me, again?”

“Oh yes!” I gasped, happily. “As soon as possible.” I felt tears of joy run down my cheeks as I rode my husband. I forced down the guilt at betraying my order. It was all for Sean, all for my family. They were all I needed.

And what about the greater good, my guilt whispered up at me.

But that voice was quickly drowned out by the pleasure growing deep in my womb as Sean’s cock rubbed deliciously against my pussy walls as I rode him. The pleasure of his fingers playing gently with my breasts, the pleasure of my clit grinding into his groin on every down-stroke. And the pleasure of my orgasm as it crashed through my body and the feel of Sean’s cum shooting inside me. His eager sperm might be swimming up to a waiting egg and we would make a new life, again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Mark…” the ethereal voice whispered, “Awaken…”

I was standing in a field of wildflowers awaiting my Mary when the voice drifted across the field and I realized I was dreaming. The voice seemed to be coming from the small bridal tent where, in my dream, anyways, my Mary would be waiting to step out and walk down the aisle. I walked towards the white tent and through the open flap.

“Mark…” the beautiful woman whispered, her voice chiming like bells.

She was beautiful and young, maybe in her early twenties. Her skin was burnished bronze and her eyes were scarlet. Around her face and shoulders fell scarlet hair. She wore a simple, white tunic, her large breasts straining against the plain fabric. At her waist, a golden sword set with rubies. A soft smile graced her lips as she eyed me.

“Who are you?” I asked, suspiciously.

“I am Azrael,” the woman answered. Her tunic melted away and she stood naked before me. Her breasts were large and perfectly shaped, her nipples hard and large. Scarlet hair hid her pussy as she walked towards me. She touched me and I shuddered in pleasure. It was like being touched by Lilith.

Somehow, I was on my back and she was straddling me, my cock sliding into her pussy. The feeling was so intense, an ecstasy of pleasure surged through me as my cock was fully enveloped by her warm, wet depths. I groaned, my cum shooting into her. She smiled in delight, shuddering atop me as she started riding my cock.

“It has been so long since I have given a man the Ecstasy,” Azrael moaned in her melodic voice.

Ecstasy, that’s what Karen called it when Gabriel would come upon her and give her a mission. So, Azrael was an angel, then. Now that I had Tiffany’s Gift, I guess the other side had a use for me. Well, fuck that. They had caused me far too much pain and suffering for me to even think about playing ball for them.

“What do you want, angel,” I spat, trying to fight the pleasure.

Azrael laughed. “I am an angel. The Angel of Death, to be specific.”

“You’re a woman, though?” I frowned. “I always thought the Angel of Death was some guy in a black robe.”

“Why would Death be a man?” she asked. “Life comes into this world from a woman, it is only fitting that life should leave this world the same way.”

The pleasure in my cock was growing too much and I groaned as I came inside her again. She just kept right on riding me, her perfect breasts bouncing above me. I wanted to reach out and cup those breasts, feel her hard nipples. Instead, I grabbed the canvas floor of the tent between my fists.

“What do you want?” I demanded.

“It is my job to teach and guide Shamans,” Azrael answered.

“What?”

“A Warlock who has been given the Gift of the Priesthood. You are no longer a Warlock, but you are not quite a Priest. A monk, as they are called these days. You are a Shaman, with both the powers of Paradise and the Abyss.”

“This has happened before?” I asked in surprise.

“Oh, yes,” Azrael answered. “It is rare. There is a way for a Warlock to steal the Gift, of course. And Tiffany was hardly the first Priestess to give her Gift to a Warlock. In fact, the most famous Shaman of all would be King Solomon. When the Queen of Sheba was sent to exorcise him, the foolish woman fell in love with him and gave him her powers. Any questions?”

“Why would you want to help me?” I demanded. “I’m a Warlock. Your side has been attacking me since day one!”

“Perhaps I can temper your wickedness,” Azrael answered, with a smile. “And maybe some good can come from your actions.” She twisted her hips, squeezing her angelic cunt as she slid down my cock and another blast of cum flooded up inside her. “Ohh, I love it when a mortal floods me with his seed. Maybe you’ll quicken a life in my womb!”

“What?” I asked in shock.

She threw back her head, a rich, chiming laughter peeled from her lips. “I can bare no child, relax mortal.”

Could I have kids, now? Mary wanted to have kids but Karen told us a nun couldn’t get pregnant, it was one of the protections they were given. Mary would be crushed if I was sterile, now. “Can I still have kids, now?”

Azrael cocked her head. “Yes. The Priestesses were given that protection because of the nature of their Prayers. Priests, on the other hand, have very different powers. Anything else, or shall we get started on your education?”

“No,” I snapped, anger at her presumption, anger at her invasion of my dreams, boiling up inside me. “I don’t want anything to do with your side. My Chasity is dead because of your nuns!”

“Not my nuns,” Azrael pointed out. “Gabriel’s nuns.”

“I don’t care,” I shouted. My balls were boiling, wanting to cum in the furnace of her cunt again. “Your side can go fuck themselves.”

“Ooh, I’d rather fuck you,” Azrael panted. “Your cock feels so nice inside me.”

I grit my teeth as she rode me faster and faster, trying not to cum again. She arched her back, thrusting those magnificent breasts forward and her cunt began to convulse so pleasantly about my cock as she came. I lost the battle and came one more time in her tight pussy. Gasping for breath, I found myself moaning in disappointment as she rose off my cock.

“Well, if you ever change your mind, Mark, just say my name and we can resume your education.”

“I won’t,” I promised.

Her mocking laugh followed me as I rose to wakefulness.

I was sleeping on a hospital chair, my neck sore, my pants soaked with cum. Mary stirred next to me, shifting her position on her chair. “Master,” a soft voice whispered. I looked up to see Xiu staring at me. I stood up and took her hand and kissed it. She smiled softly, and her eyes closed and she slipped back into sleep.

I won’t use their powers, I promised myself. Desiree almost died the first time they attacked me. Korina was shot and this time Xiu was badly hurt, and plenty of my bodyguards. And Chasity was dead and five of my other bodyguards. Fuck them. Fuck their powers. I would hold onto this Gift, keep it from ever being used for their side again. Deprive them of one of the few tools that remained them.

Mary and I ate breakfast at the hospital. Xiu woke up a second time when we returned and Mary hugged her gently as we told her about the hysterectomy and Chasity’s death. Xiu would be given the choice about staying our sex slave, but only after she was stronger. We checked in on the other bodyguards. 30 died during the night. 04 and 47 were still unconscious. The other eighteen were conscious and eating breakfast. They had suffered a variety of gunshots, some more serious than others. Four were well enough to be discharged this morning, having only taken grazing wounds. They were all happy to see us and we gave them encouragements.

Noon was approaching, and it was time to find out who, if any, of our sex slaves would want to voluntarily stay with us. 51 drove us back to the house. Besides the media, there was a large crowd of people cheering and holding up signs as we drove through. A very large crowd, I realized. There were more than a hundred, covering the shoulder of Shaw Road and spilling into the road. “I worship you,” and “Mark Glassner is God,” and many other signs were on display.

“What the fuck is that about?” I asked Mary, but she looked as confused as I was.

“Sir,” 51 answered. “Your miraculous healing is all over the internet. Some people think you’re a God.”

“Stop the car,” I ordered and I stepped out of the car, prepared to set these people straight.

The crowd, mostly women, fell to their knees and bowed. Their faces shown with rapture and love. “My God!” they shouted. “Bless me!” and “I am yours!” and other shouts rose up. I recognized a few, women that I had fucked over the past few weeks. “Take me!” a woman shouted and bared her breasts at me and I felt my cock hardening.

Their love, their devotion, their worship was so intoxicating. I raised my hands up and they hushed in excited anticipation of what I would say. They were obeying me without me even giving them a command. This was power. I was power. I could do things that no normal person ever could. I was better than them. I could guide them, shape them. Make them better than what had been before. How could I refuse these people.

“What is your commandment, my Lord!” a man shouted.

“Love each other.”

I did not know why that phrase appeared on my lips, but it felt right. A groan went through the crowd and two teenage girls rose up. I smiled, recognizing the Cunningham twins. “It’s as we told you,” the twin with the shorter hair cried. “Mark taught our family to love each other unconditionally.”

Rose grabbed Daisy and the twin girls kissed passionately before the entire crowd. A groan went through the crowd and more people were kissing each other, following the twin girls’ examples. Men kissed women and women kissed women. Mothers kissed daughters and sons kissed mothers. Brothers kissed sisters and daughters kissed fathers.

Mary stepped out of the car and another wave of shouts rose from the crowd, “My Goddess!” and, “The most Beautiful of Women!” shouted from the crowd. I saw the uncertainty melt away from Mary’s face as the crowd chanted her name. A Black woman knelt before her, begging to pleasure her.

Clothing was coming off as the worshipers’ passions increased. Several with instruments begin playing a low, primal beat. Deep drums accompanied by steel-string guitars. Everywhere you looked, people were loving each other, worshiping us with their bodies. Some bowed before us, baring breasts and begging for our blessing.

A mother and her teenage daughter took turns sucking my cock, their tongues running up and down the sides. They both looked so much alike, the same tawny hair, the same delicate cheeks, but the mother had fuller lips and bigger tits, while the daughter had the smooth, fresh skin of youth and tits that seemed to defy gravity.

They kissed each other around the head of my cock, their tongues caressing each other’s as they explored the sensitive flesh of my cock. I gripped both their hairs and moaned as they started taking turns sucking my cock into their mouths. Mary was leaning back against 51′s cop car as the Black woman was devouring her pussy.

I watched her lips as she moaned, her voice drowned out by the worshipers. Her body convulsed as she orgasmed and the Black woman looked so happy when her face came away sticky. Immediately, another worshiper, a Black teenager, grabbed the woman and they kissed and the teen mounted her and started fucking her with his cock. Was it her son? Or was it a complete stranger fucking her?

The mother had her lips about my cock as her daughter sucked my balls into her sweet mouth. I groaned, my balls tightening, and I flooded the mother’s mouth with my cum. She pulled her head away and let my cum splash onto her large breasts and neck. A look of ecstasy painted her face as my spunk ran thickly down her heaving bosom. Her daughter released my balls and scooped up a glob of semen off her mother’s breast and sucked it reverently into her mouth. Other worshipers crowded around, gathering scoops of my cum to eat.

“This is wrong,” Mary whispered after we climbed back into 51′s car, leaving behind the orgy.

“Why?” I asked. “We didn’t make them do anything.”

Mary bit her lip. “They think we’re…”

“Gods?” I asked her, a smile on my lips. “Why not? We have these powers. Didn’t it feel amazing as they all chanted your name?”

A ghost of a smile played on her lips. “It was…”

“Intoxicating?” I finished.

“Yes,” Mary sighed. “We need to be careful, Mark.”

I reached out and stroked her freckled cheek. “Of course we will, Mare.”

I saw the evidence of the firefight all over the neighborhood as 51 pulled up in front of the house. There were boarded-up windows and cars riddled with bullet holes. Red stains dotted the asphalt. Mary clung to my arm as we walked up to the house. We may have been about to lose all our sex slaves, but I was still riding high on the euphoria of the worshipers. There were plenty of women out there, our worshipers, who would be thrilled to be our sluts.

They were all waiting in the dining room. Some wore their chokers and others did not. Well, it seemed that some of them would be staying. Alison and Desiree were holding each other, their chokers tight about their throats. Violet and April both wore their chokers, too, and behind them Lillian lounged fingering her choker. I was happy to see that Korina was wearing her choker, too. She was carrying my child.

“Sam, is there a way to break the bond?” I asked her, then blinked in surprise. There was a woman sitting on Sam’s lap, her hair dyed half-pink and half-blue. They were both dressed in party dresses, Sam in a blue sequined dress and the girl in a gauzy, pink dress.

“Yes.” A yawn spread across her round face. She rubbed her dark, almond eyes. “It’s quite simple. Just touch the person, concentrate on the chain binding the two of you and say Parats. That’s the Hebrew word for ‘to break.’ In fact all the spells are just Hebrew words. It’s quite fascinating.”

“So, I take it you want to be freed?” I asked her before she went off on one of her long-winded explanations.

“Well, you need me,” Sam said. “But, I don’t want to be one of your…sluts. I’ll advise you on magic. Let me be your Vizier. The only payment I want is Candy, here.”

I glanced at Candy. “You want to be hers?”

“She can do magic,” Candy giggled.

“Fine,” I told Sam. “You have to tell us whatever we need to know. You can never tell anyone else what you know. You can ignore any other commands. Candy, you belong to Sam, now. Do whatever she wants.”

Fiona stepped up in front of me, anger on her face, and slapped me. “Bastard,” she snarled. “Free me.”

I grabbed her. I could keep her, make her love me again. Make her pay for slapping me. I saw Mary staring at me, the slight, warning shake of her head. No. Mary was right, it was better that they wanted to be ours. I focused on the chains binding the two of us and said, “Parats.” We flinched, as if we were both tugging on a rope that snapped, and we stumbled back.

“I’m free,” she whispered, half in astonishment, half in joy. And then she was sweeping out of the room, her strawberry-blonde hair flowing behind her.

Noel was stoic silence when I released her, Thamina was icy calm, modestly clad in a long skirt and headscarf. Willow walked up and I grabbed her, going to release her, too, when she shook her head. “Like Sam, I think we can come to an understanding.”

“What?” Mary asked.

“I’ll run your charity,” Willow smiled. “Let me choose the staff and I’ll be more than happy to run the clinic. Just let me…play, with the girls.”

“Done,” I told her, with a smile. “Install some cameras, though.”

Willow laughed. “Sure.”

“And the rest of you want to be our sex slaves?”

“Yes!” Alison answered, excitedly. “Desiree, too.”

Desiree nodded. “Alison convinced me.”

Jessica walked towards us, her choker about her neck. “You’re the most powerful people in the world. I want to be a part of that.”

“I don’t want to go back to my mom,” Violet whispered. April gripped her hand and smiled at me and happily said, “I love you both.”

“You’re too much fun, Master,” Lillian said with a sultry laugh. “And Mistress is just to die for.”

Korina walked over and stood next to Jessica, her hand rubbing her belly. “I love you, Master. I’m having your baby. And I love you, too, Mistress.”

“Then you’re our sex slaves,” I ordered. “You’ll do whatever Mary or I tell you, no matter how depraved or filthy the command is.”

The seven sluts knelt before us, smiling up at us. “We are yours,” they said in unison, love shining in their eyes. “Forever.”

And, as the sluts enveloped Mary and me in a press of delightful female flesh, I thought I heard a chiming voice whisper, “Progress.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What can I do for you,” Professor Scrivener asked as I knocked at his door.

I was at the Department of Hebrew and Semitic Studies, University of Wisconsin-Madison, the Magicks of the Witch of Endor clutched in my hands. After taking the book from the Altgrave, I did my research and Professor Scrivener was a leading expert in the translation of ancient Semitic writings. He was a man in his fifties, black hair going gray, with deep, green eyes peering at me from behind horned-rim glasses. His office was small, cluttered with books and papers and I squeezed past the door and stepped carefully to his desk.

“Brandon Fitzsimmons,” I said as he shook my hand. He had a strong grip, I was surprised to discover, crushing my hand as he smiled politely at me.

“What can I do for you, Brandon?” he asked impatiently.

I handed him the book. He took it, glancing at the cover and opened it up. “Hmm, Aramaic.”

“I’ll pay you $300,000 dollars to translate the book,” I told him. “$100,000 up front and the other $200,000 on completion.”

His eyes bugged out in surprise. “Is this a joke?”

I pulled out the cashiers check made out for $100,000 dollars. It was the bulk of my money. I was hoping greed would blind the man from asking too many questions and his hands shook as he looked at the check. But, if the book contained what I hoped it would, $100,000 would be a pittance. And once he finished translating the book, well, I could find a different way to reward him. “Show this to no-one. I need complete discretion on your part. And I need it as soon as possible. I will call once a week to check on your progress. And no questions, okay?”

He licked his lips, nervous, then glanced down at the check. I could see the questions whirling in his mind, the doubts and whispers of caution. But there was that glint of avarice in his eyes as he kept glancing at the check. He wiped his sweaty palm on the leg of his brown slacks. Sweat was beading on his forehead. He glanced up at me, staring at me intently, his green eyes peering into my brown eyes. His hand shook as he folded up the check and slipped it into his pocket.

“Okay. We have a deal, Brandon.”

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 33.

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The Devil’s Pact Side-Story: Rachel’s Honeymoon Part 2-Saturday Morning

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Side-Story: Rachel’s Honeymoon

Part 2: Saturday Morning

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2013


Story Codes: Female/Female, Male/Female, Mind Control, Wife, Exhibitionism

For a list of all the Devil’s Pact Chapters and other stories click here

Comments are very welcome. I would like all criticism, positive and negative, so long as its
constructive, and feedback is very appreciated.



Note: This takes during Chapter 27 while Mark and Mary are in New York City. For Part 1 of Rachel’s Honeymoon.



I woke up, confused. Where was I and who was I with?

Not my husband, that’s for sure. Unless he transformed into this beautiful, blonde woman sleeping next to me. Naked, I could feel the silk sheets cool against my body and I flushed. I never slept naked. I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and the memories of last night came flooding back.

My new husband and I arrived at the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel for our honeymoon, all excited for our first night together. I mean, we had spent nights together before, but our first night as man and wife was going to be just magical. And it was magical, only I spent it with Mary and her fiancee Mark, and their chauffeur, the beautiful Leah that slept next to me.

I had been so naughty and wanton last night. I’m not sure what came over me. I was just so enchanted by Mary and when she invited me up to her hotel room, how could I say no? Even my husband understood how great an opportunity it was for me. He was such a great guy to let me spend our honeymoon having fun with other people while he waited alone in the honeymoon suite. But, I would make it up to him. I was learning so many new, sexy things.

Last night was my first time with a woman and it was amazing. And my first time getting fucked from behind. I had always been a shy girl, Jacob was the first man I ever let into my bed, and that was only after he proposed. Neither of us really knew what we were doing, but our enthusiasm made up for it.

Mary sent Leah and I to the other room so that she could spend some quality time alone with Mark. “It’s important,” Mary told me when I started to protest, “that people who love each other spend time with just each other.”

So, Leah and I retired to this room and the girl just devoured me when we came in. She made me cum so hard and so many times I forgot all about wanting to be with Mary. Then Leah showed me a few tricks to make a woman beg for more with my tongue and fingers, as I returned the favor. After all those mind blowing orgasms, we cuddled and I got lost in her hazel eyes for awhile. They reminded me so much of my Jacob’s eyes. I felt the same happy thrill staring into Leah’s eyes I got from staring into my husband’s eyes.

Leah was so beautiful as she slept, a little blonde angel. I caressed her face and she stirred. “You dye your hair blonde so you can have fun?” I asked her, when she opened her eyes and stretched.

“Yeah,” Leah said, yawning. She reached out and grabbed a lock of my hair. “You should dye your hair. You’d look stunning as a blonde. Because, honey, this brown is a little drab.”

“I guess,” I said, feeling a little defensive.

“And you want to have fun, right?” Leah asked with a deliciously wicked smile.

I did. That was the point of the honeymoon. To have fun. Sure, it was supposed to be with my new husband, but I was looking forward to having lots of fun. I was hoping a trip to New York City would help get me out of my shy bubble and out into the world. And so far it was working.

“C’mon, let’s go dye your hair,” Leah said, and pulled me up.

I wanted to protest; I liked my hair. But Leah was too insistent, pulling me along after her. She threw my discarded dress at me as she pulled on her slutty chauffeur’s outfit. A short, black skirt and white bustier. Then we were in the hotel elevator and Leah was pressing me against the wall, kissing me. Her tongue was hot and wild in my mouth, her body rubbing pleasantly against me. The door opened and Leah kept right on kissing me, not caring that people would see us. I was flushing in embarrassment, trying to push her away.

“Rachel?” a startled voice asked.

I managed to push Leah off me and there was my new husband standing at the elevator doors, looking stunned. “Jacob,” I squeaked as Leah started nibbling on my neck. “I…uh…hi.”

He swallowed. “I guess you’re, um, having fun then?”

“Oh, lots,” I squealed. Leah’s hand was at my breast, giving it a squeeze. She seemed to get more excited at being watched. My heart was racing and I was positively dripping juices from my cunt. It was strangely exhilarating being watched. Feeling bold, I slid my hand up Leah’s skirt and felt her naked ass and gave it a squeeze. “Are you getting in the elevator, honey?”

“Um, no, I’ll get the next elevator, Rach,” my husband said and I almost felt guilty, but I remembered that Mary told me not to feel guilty last night.

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow,” I called as the doors started to close. “I have some neat things to show you. Love you.”

“He’s cute,” Leah giggled, nibbling at my chin. “Have you guys ever had a threesome?”

“No,” I flushed. “We’re very…boring I guess.”

“You weren’t boring when you grabbed my ass,” Leah whispered. “You were a naughty little vixen.”

I smiled, I guess I was a naughty little vixen. I had always fantasized about being a wild, sexually adventuresome girl when I would be all alone in my bed masturbating. The exact opposite of my real, boring self. When Mary and Mark claimed me for the weekend, it was like I had been given a free pass to be that wild self. To experience my fantasies before I went back to Jacob and my boring self.

So I kissed Leah, making out with her the entire elevator ride down, even when a family of three got in the elevator. I didn’t care. I was the new Rachel. The parents were trying to shield their fourteen year old son from watching us make out. It was so thrilling, the lust shining in the teenage boy’s eyes, an erection bulging his tight shorts. I did that to him, I thought, as Leah’s tongue probed my mouth, I made that boy horny. I was breathless and flushed when we reached the lobby. There was a small boutique and we picked up some blonde hair dye, charging it to Mark and Mary’s room.

“They’re rich,” Leah explained, “they won’t even notice it on the bill. When your some rich person’s plaything, you need to take advantage of the situation.”

“Do you play with rich people often?” I asked.

“I drive a limo and I’m hot,” she said archly. “Mark and Mary would not be the first clients that have taken me to bed.” She paused and laughed, a wickedly naughty laugh. “Or the back of my limo.”

Leah was right, I thought as I looked into the mirror. We had just finished up dying my hair and I looked gorgeous as a blonde. The golden hair framed my round face beautifully and made my brown eyes seem so dark and sexy. I pursed my lips and cocked my head and gave the mirror the most smokiest gaze I could.

Leah was pressed up behind me, her naked breasts rubbing against my back. “Umm, you look so scrumptious.” Her face appeared above my shoulder as she hugged me. In the mirror we were two blonde, beautiful woman. Her face was so angelic, with these lush lips I just wanted to kiss.

So I did, turning in the embrace and kissing her on the lips. My heart was beating so fast. Leah was so beautiful and fun and everything I always fantasized about being. She let her clients fuck her in the back of limos and would go to clubs and party and have sex with men or women in bathrooms. Complete strangers. “It’s just fun,” she giggled, “having a complete stranger make you scream in pleasure in the men’s room.” I wanted to experience all that before I went back to Jacob and became boring again.

“Leah, show me how to have fun,” I whispered when I broke the kiss. “Tonight, take me to one of those clubs.”

“It’s up to Mark and Mary,” Leah sighed. “They hired me to be their chauffeur.”

“Maybe they’ll let us go out,” I said, hopefully.

Leah smiled. “Maybe.”

Feeling adventuress, I knelt down before Leah, face-to-pussy. And it was such a beautiful pussy. She shaved, except a triangle of dark, brown pubic hair above her slit. Like me, she was a bottled-blonde. Her clit was hard and peaked out of its little hood. Her lips were thick and dark with passion, and hung swollen out of her slit. She smelled tart and spicy and I had to taste her again. I spread those fat lips and slid my tongue through the wet hole, gathering a mouthful of her delicious honey.

“Ohh, fuck!” Leah moaned. “Umm, eat my cunt, slut!”

I was a slut, for the weekend anyways. When I went back to Jacob I would just be his slut. Luckily, there was still all of today and tomorrow for me to be a slut for everyone else. I licked up her slit, my tongue brushing Leah’s clit, bringing another excited moan from her pouty lips. I gripped her ass, and buried my face in her cunt, just devouring her over and over. I sucked her fat labia into my mouth, I shoved my tongue deep into her wet hole, I sucked and licked at her little clit.

“Oh, you fucking whore!” Leah moaned. “Make me cum, pussy slut! Ohh, you fucking blonde slut!”

Her hands were gripping my hair as she rubbed her cunt on my lips, smashing her cunt up onto my nose. I had pussy juices smeared all over my face, sticky and delicious. I was in heaven. I slid two fingers into her wet, tight hole, probing her walls for her G-Spot. I had always thought it was a myth until Leah found mine last night and left me howling in pleasure.

“Holy shit, you fucking slut!” she gasped. “Yes, yes, oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum all over your nasty face!” She bucked atop me as I found her G-spot, massaging the little bundle of nerves as she pulled my face tight into her pussy, lips sucking at her clit. “Oh, fuck, fuck! Drink it! Drink my dirty girl-cum, you fucking slut!”

Her juices poured into my lips as her pussy squeezed my fingers from her orgasm. She was breathing hard as I rose up and she eagerly kissed me, licking her spicy, tart juices off my face as we pressed our bodies together. Her nipples rubbed deliciously on my breasts. My little pussy was achingly hot, desperate to cum. I found her thigh, rubbing my wet cunt on her. I could feel her hands on my clenching ass as I fucked my pussy on her thigh and moaned like the wanton whore I was.

“Yes, yes, your thigh feel so amazing, Leah,” I moaned, rubbing faster and faster. “Oh, fuck, I’m cumming on your gorgeous leg, can you feel it?”

“Yes, Rachel,” Leah whispered tenderly in my ear, holding me tightly as I shuddered in her embrace. “I can feel your nasty juices running down my leg.” I felt so warm and happy. And loved.

Mark and Mary loved my blonde hair. They had breakfast waiting for us and we devoured it. Sex made you hungry, I was discovering. And then we were riding the elevator down and Mark was fucking me, his hard cock sliding in and out of my cunt while I moaned like the blonde slut I was. Leah was on the floor, eating out Mary’s cunt and their bodyguards kept anyone from disturbing us.

“You’re a nasty fucking slut, aren’t you!” Mark growled as he pounded my cunt. “A nasty, married slut!”

“Yes, yes!” I panted. His cock felt so great sliding in and out of my cunt. “Fuck my newlywed cunt!”

The doors to the elevator opened and there was a shocked gasp. I looked and saw a mother and teenage daughter. The mother had a horrified expression on her face and her daughter flushed red and watched with wide-eyed awe. I stared at her and smiled and moaned as wantonly as I could. The teenager’s blue eyes twinkling with blossoming lust sent a delicious, naughty thrill through me, from the tips of my nipples down to my aching clit and I exploded about Mark’s thick cock.

“Oh, fuck!” I moaned. “I’m cumming! Oh, fuck! Oh, yes!”

My cunt was spasming on Mark’s cock as he fucked in and out of me, my body writhing in his arms. I kept staring at the girl and saw her lick her lips, two hard, little bumps appeared, pressing at her shirt and she shifted her thighs. I made that girl horny, I thought happily, as the elevator doors slid shut and the elevator lurched into motion.

When we reached the lobby, Mark’s cum was running down my thighs as I trailed behind Mark and Mary. Proof that I was a blonde that had fun, now. Mark and Mary’s arms were entwined like a pair of love-birds, completely ignoring Leah and myself. The valet brought up the limo, and Leah held open the doors for us and we piled into the back.

It was a boring ride; Mark and Mary were suddenly tourists. Like regular people, getting excited at all the sights. I had been to New York many times, even worked in the city once, so I didn’t have the same sense of excitement at seeing the famous landmarks. Their first stop, weirdly, was NYU and they left Leah and I at the limo. Which was fine, because Leah slipped into the back and we started making out. I realized that I had missed the adventuresome blonde girl for the ten minutes we were apart. And, as her tongue was exploring my mouth, I wondered if I was falling in love with Leah.

But I loved Jacob, right? I certainly missed Jacob and part of me wished he was here. Could I love two people at once? Would Jacob understand my new feelings? Or Leah? It was all too confusing and Leah’s tongue was too wet and warm in my mouth, to think straight. I could feel the heat of her body as it was pressed up against me, her hand at my breast, groping me so deliciously.

“You’re so beautiful,” Leah whispered, nibbling at my ear. “I just feel so safe with you.”

“What are you saying?” I whispered.

“Ever since I laid eyes on you, I can’t get you out of my mind,” Leah answered, her hand slipping down the front of my breast and cupping my tit. “I know we just met, but, I just feel so close to you.”

Was she falling in love with me, too? My heart was thudding in my chest. What should I do? “I…I feel close to you,” I answered, shyly, looking down.

“Good,” Leah whispered, pushing my dress down to expose my pale bosom and then her lips were sucking at my nipple, gently nibbling at it with her soft lips.

“Umm, your tongue feels so nice,” I moaned.

“Wait ’til it’s in your pussy!” she said with a wanton smile, sliding down to kneel on the limo’s floor and spreading my legs. “Umm, you’re all sticky with Mark’s cum! Let me clean you up!”

I shook and gasped as her tongue licked up my vulva. I closed my eyes, enjoying her tongue-bathing of my pussy. I bet she’d love to suck Jacob’s cum out of me. Jacob would get so hard, that he would probably kneel behind Leah and fill her pussy with his cum. Then I could spread Leah’s legs open and lap at her creamy pussy and it would be so delicious. I licked my lips, almost tasting his salty cum mixed with Leah’s tart, spicy pussy. My body shook as my orgasm rolled through me.

I knew right then and there that I would have to share Leah with my Jacob.

To be continued…

Click here for Part 3.

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The Devil’s Pact Side-Story: Rachel’s Honeymoon Part 1-Friday Night

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Side-Story: Rachel’s Honeymoon

Part 1: Friday Night

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2013


Story Codes: Male/Female, Female/Female, Male/Females, Mind Control, Oral, Creampie, Wife

For a list of all the Devil’s Pact Chapters and other stories click here

Comments are very welcome. I would like all criticism, positive and negative, so long as its
constructive, and feedback is very appreciated.



Note: This takes during Chapter 27 while Mark and Mary are in New York City.



Mrs. Jacob Goldstein-Blum. I am Mrs. Jacob Goldstein-Blum, now.

That happy thought filled my mind as Jacob pulled our Chevy Volt into the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel’s driveway. The hotel was a huge, white building in that classic art deco style that is just absolutely gorgeous. I was so excited to spend my honeymoon with Jacob here at this beautiful hotel. We just got married a few hours ago and, after a lovely reception, we hopped into our car and drove to New York City, only a half-hour drive from Butler, Pennsylvania this late at night.

I yawned. It was nearly eleven and today had been a long, but happy, day.

“Hope you’re not too tired, Rachel,” my husband said with a suggestive grin.

I smiled. My husband. I liked the sound of that. “Not that tired, Jacob,” I said archly.

He leaned over and kissed me as the uniformed valet walked up to the car and opened our doors for us. His lips were firm and I loved the feel of his five o’clock shadow rubbing on my mouth. I’ve never been a fan of facial hair on a man, but I love the way his stubble feels as I ran my fingers across his cheek. Such a manly feel.

Jacob broke the kiss and I was a little breathless. Excitement bubbled in my heart as we got out of the car. Jacob slipped the valet a few bills, probably ones. He could be a little cheap at times, so I slipped a ten to the valet when Jacob’s back was turned. Our luggage was loaded on one of the golden hotel carts and I adjusted my veil and we walked in.

We were not wearing our wedding clothes. My dress was far too lovely to be crammed in our little car for too long. I wore a loose, green dress, instead, that I could easily slip on. Or off, I thought with a naughty smile. Underneath, I was still wearing my lacy, white bridal lingerie. A beautiful demi-bra that cradled my breasts in lacy decadence, the silk panties, trimmed in lace, that molded to the curves of my shaved pussy. I shaved it just for the honeymoon, a surprise for Jacob. And a white garter belt that held up my thigh-high, white stockings. Jacob loved me in stockings, and he was just going shoot off in his pants when he saw me.

My husband wrapped his arm about my waist and I leaned my head against his shoulder as we walked into the Waldorf-Astoria. I was giddy with excitement as we walked up and the concierge asked us our names. “Mr. and Mrs. Jacob Goldstein,” I told him with bubbly excitement.

The concierge typed in the computer. “Oh, congratulations,” he told us. “I see you have booked the honeymoon suite. We will send up a complimentary bottle of champagne.”

“Thanks,” my husband said with a grin. He loved getting free stuff.

“What a lovely veil,” a woman voice purred from behind me.

I turned to see the most stunningly beautiful woman I had ever seen. A flush burned in my cheeks. She was drop dead gorgeous. Long, auburn hair fell loosely about her bare shoulders, framing a heart-shaped face dotted with freckles. Her eyes were a deep green and her smile was hungry and sent a naughty thrill through my body, where I could feel myself starting to moisten the gusset of my satin panties.

What is wrong with you, Rachel? Get yourself together girl, I scolded myself. No one had ever so affected me before. No man, and certainly no woman. I mean, it was okay to be gay, I supposed, just not for me. But I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. She wore a tight red dress that clung to her body like a sheathe, the skirt obscenely short. So short it barely covered her ass. And such a beautiful ass it was, I noticed, licking my lips.

“What do you think, Mark,” she asked and I realized with a start that she was standing next to a man. I hadn’t even noticed him or the others with the woman.

They were a strange group. The woman was dressed in a gorgeous party dress, her companion in an Avenging Sevenfold T-shirt and a pair of jeans. He was a tall guy, an average looking face and piercing, blue eyes. A tall woman with bleached-blonde hair stood on the other side of him wearing a slutty parody of a chauffeur’s uniform. A very short, black skirt that left most of her long legs exposed, covered in fishnet stockings. A white bustier pushed up her breasts and barely covered her nipples. I could just see the pink of an aerola peaking out on her right breast. Then she wore a tiny jacket and around her bare neck, an orange and red-stripped tie that fell between her breasts. Perched on her head was a chauffeur’s cap.

Four more women were dressed as slutty cops, short skirts, navy blue, with matching blouses that only buttoned half-the-way up and their breasts threatened to spill out if they sneezed. Then I noticed that all four had actual guns on their hips and their faces had the hard, professional stare of real cops.

“On your honeymoon, huh?” the man asked, his eyes feasting on me and suddenly felt naked.

“Yes,” I answered, and turned away, uncomfortable with his stare.

“Yeah, we just got married,” Jacob excitedly said, turning to face the group.

“I’m Mark and your wife is so pretty,” the man told my husband as he shook his hand. “I want her.”

“What?” Jacob asked, looking confused.

I glanced at the woman and she had that same hungry look in her eyes and I realized just what her…boyfriend, meant. Part of me wanted to let this woman have me. If she asked me, I realized I would let her have me. I would leave my husband and come with her and let her do whatever she wanted to me. I swallowed, shifting my thighs, rubbing my aching clit to get some relief. It was like this woman enchanted me with a spell, like out of some Fairy Tale.

“Your wife is going to spend the weekend with us,” Mark said in a commanding voice. “Don’t worry, we’ll see she’s taken care of.” A boyish grin filled his face. “We’ll make sure she cums a lot. So just enjoy your time in New York, and we’ll have her back by Sunday evening. You’ll be very pleased with the new her.”

“Eh, okay,” my husband said, looking confused.

The woman grabbed my hand and pulled me to her. “Come along, beautiful,” she purred. “I just can’t wait to eat you all up.”

“Have fun, Rachel,” my husband called after me as I was pulled to the elevator, my heart beating in my chest. I was going to fuck this beautiful woman. And her boyfriend, I realized with a flush. “I love you, Rach!” Jacob hollered.

“I love you too, Jacob,” I stammered as the elevator door closed.

The woman was on me, kissing me passionately, the moment the elevator doors closed, her tongue pressing into my mouth. I melted against her, kissing her just as passionately as I ever kissed a person. As I ever kissed Jacob. Her hands were behind me, finding the zipper to my dress, and pulling it down. The dress fell to the floor and I stood there in my wedding lingerie, my silken panties soaked with my excitement.

This was like a fantasy come true. Sometimes, when I masturbate, I thought of being fucked by a stranger, always a man, in public. Just letting myself be wild and not the proper, quiet girl I was in my real life. For this weekend, I could live that fantasy, I realized. I could be wild and slutty, and then go back to Jacob and be his prim and proper wife.

“You are so beautiful,” I whispered to the auburn-haired woman.

“You, too,” the woman responded and then we were kissing again.

The woman started kissing and sucking at my neck and over her shoulder I could see Mark and the female chauffeur were kissing as well. No, they were fucking. Mark had her pressed up against the elevator wall, one of her fishnet-stockinged legs hooked around his leg as he fucked her hard. His jeans slipped down, exposing his firm ass as it clenched when he thrust into the woman. The chauffeur hugged him tightly, her angelic face appearing over his shoulder. Pleasure contorted her face and I wondered if I looked like that.

Our eyes made contact and I felt this electric thrill pass between us, a smile appeared on her lips. There was something special about the blonde woman and we were lost in each other’s eyes as we were getting fucked. Her eyes were brown. No they were green. No, hazel I finally realized. The electric thrill between us was such a familiar feeling and it reminded me of Jacob, for some strange reason. The memory of the first time I laid on my husband floated up in my mind. It was back in college, in the library at Princeton, and I was reaching for a book and through the gap in the shelf I saw a pair of eyes peering back at me from the other side of the bookshelves. The eyes were so gentle and warm, I found myself falling in love with Jacob before I even saw all of his face.

The auburn-haired woman’s hand slipped into my panties, bringing me out of my reverie, and I squirmed in pleasure as her fingers slid down to my smooth, wet lips, fingering my slit. I gasped as she slipped first one then a second finger up inside me, sliding them slowly in and out of my wet hole while her thumb massaged my hard little clit. I slid my own hands down the woman’s back to her ass, squeezing her plump cheeks. Feeling bold, I slid my hands underneath her skirt to find her bare, plump cheeks and the blonde chauffeur winked at me over Mark’s shoulder.

Every few floors the elevator would stop and the slutty cops would stop people from getting onto our car as they screened the entrance of the elevator. The ride seemed to take an eternity. An eternity of my cunt getting fingered by this beautiful woman. I could feel an orgasm building inside me, every touch of her tongue on my neck, her fingers in my cunt, her thumb on my clit, made that delicious feeling grow and grow inside me until I exploded on her fingers and trembled in her embrace.

“Umm, that felt like a good one,” the auburn-haired woman moaned, pulling her sticky fingers up and licking my juices off of them. “You taste like honey,” she purred and then kissed me and I could taste my juices. I did taste like a spicy honey.

“What do you taste like?” I heard myself ask.

“You’ll find out,” the woman promised as the elevator reached the last floor.

“Here it comes, slut!” Mark groaned, slamming into the chauffeur’s cunt and moaning, I caught her eyes and watched as the blonde woman smiled and shuddered. I was happy that she came as hard as I had. Mark pulled away from her and I saw her bare pussy gaping open and leaking Mark’s cum before her skirt fell down. I wanted to taste her and lick Mark’s cum out of her pussy.

The elevator opened onto the penthouse suite. It was huge, an apartment more than a hotel room. The honeymoon suite was supposed to be as lovely but smaller, a much more intimate affair than this, and I felt guilty that my poor husband would be staying in it all alone while I was having so much fun up here. The bodyguards went first, quickly searching the room with their hands on their holstered weapons.

Who were these people? A little bit of fear nibbled at my stomach and I wanted my husband to hold me. Guilt crashed into me. My poor husband was down in the honeymoon suite all alone. “This is a mistake,” I whispered. “I…I should be with my husband. It’s our honeymoon.”

The woman placed her finger on my lips, shushing me. “Don’t feel guilty. You’ll have the rest of your life to be with him. This weekend you get to have some fun.”

The woman was right and I felt my guilt melt away. I had the rest of my life to spend with Jacob, but only this weekend to spend with this woman. And the chauffeur. I didn’t even know the auburn-haired woman’s name. I mean, I let the woman finger me to orgasm. “Who are you?”

“I’m Mary, and that’s my fiancee, Mark,” the woman said. “And that’s Leah, our chauffeur. The other ladies are our bodyguards.” I looked at the blonde, her hazel eyes twinkling with passion. Leah, what a pretty name I thought.

“I’m Rachel,” I said and Leah’s eyes caught mine again and that electric thrill ran through me. It was such a heady feeling.

Mary grasped my hand and led me across the room to one of the bedrooms. A large, king-sized bed dominated the room, four posters with gauzy curtains. It was so elegant. Mary was kissing me again, her hands reaching behind me to unclasp my bra, my round breasts popping out. I shuddered in delight as Mary bent down and captured my tit in her mouth, sucking on the nipple hard.

I felt hands on my waist, not Mary’s gentle hands and I glanced behind me to see Mark and then he was pulling off my satin panties and exposing my shaved pussy. I wanted my shaved nethers to be a honeymoon surprise for Jacob and I shuddered in pleasure as Mark ran his finger though the groove of my twat.

Mary turned and I unzipped her dress. She was naked underneath, her cunt shaved just like mine. She crawled onto the bed, spread out in all her naked glory and crocked her finger at me. My pussy was weeping in excitement as I crawled onto the bed, my eyes fixed on her tight slit and the fiery heart of hair above her cunt.

“Taste me,” Mary purred. “Taste me while Mark fuck’s your naughty, newlywed cunt!”

Mary’s hands grasped my face and pulled me to her bare lips and I licked up her tight slit. Oh my god, she tasted so delicious, a sweet, spicy flavor. I slid my tongue a second time up her slit, my taste buds rejoicing that such a delicious flavor could exist. I spread open the flower of her womanhood, all pink and glistening, and dove in greedily as Mary moaned from the pleasure I gave her.

I could feel the bed sink as another person crawled on, right behind me. I felt something hard prod my ass. A cock. Tonight was my wedding night and another man’s cock was about to slid into me. I was so excited for it. Tonight was such a magical night. Not the way I thought my wedding night would go, but magical none the less.

“Fuck her naughty little cunt!” Mary moaned, encouraging her fiancee to violate my wedding vows.

To have no other, I swore, and I didn’t even make it one night. Mark’s cock felt great as he pushed into my tight hole, my cunt giving way before the iron firmness of his cock. He sank all the way into me and the drew back and thrust into me again. Over and over he fucked me, every thrust better than the one before it. I was full of his cock, full of another man’s cock. The wild girl from my fantasies come to life.

“Don’t stop licking me!” Mary moaned and I realized in my joy at Mark’s cock sliding into me, I had stopped my worship of Mary’s delicious cunt.

I dove back in, enjoying being fucked by Mark and eating out Mary. I was giving and receiving pleasure and felt so fulfilled, so happy. Part of me wished Jacob could be here, to share this happy moment. But then I thought how excited he will be to see me on Sunday. I bet he fucks me just as hard as while I tell him about all the fun I had.

The bed shook and I looked up to see Leah, naked save for her fishnet stockings straddling Mary’s face, her shaved cunt messy with Mark’s cum. Between Mary’s perky breasts I could see Mary’s tongue lick out and swipe through the mess, scooping up a nice tongue-full of Mark’s spunk. Leah’s tight ass clenched as she rolled her hips, rubbing her pussy on Mary’s face.

“Fucking hot, Mare,” Mark moaned. “Gonna make you another creampie.”

“Hmm, I can’t wait,” Mary purred then dug her tongue back into Leah’s cunt. I wondered what Leah tasted like. Would she tasted sweet and spicy like Mary, or would she have a thick, honey flavor like me. Or maybe she would taste different, a new, delicious flavor for me to sample.

Mark groaned behind me and then I felt his semen shooting warm into my married pussy. Ohh, it felt so wrong and so amazing. I moaned my pleasure into Mary’s cunt as my orgasm exploded through my body, my cunt clenching on Mark’s cock, milking the last of his cum into my cunt. I rubbed my face through Mary’s cunt, as the aftershocks of my orgasm subsided, and renewed my effort on making her cum.

I slipped a finger up into her pussy, and then a second, delighting in the feel of her tight walls sucking wetly at my fingers as I plunged them in and out of her cunt. My tongue found the hard, little pearl. I flicked at her clit and enjoyed the coos of pleasure that emanated from her lips and then the flood of her juices as she came on my eager lips.

Mary slid out from Leah who moaned in disappointment and kissed me on the lips. “Why don’t you finish Leah off and let me lick that sweet cum out of your pussy.”

I eagerly spread Leah’s thighs. Mary had cleaned out all the cum but left plenty of pussy juices. And above her cunt was a triangle of brown hair. “So not a natural blonde, Leah?”

“Don’t you know, blonde’s have all the fun!” Leah laughed, grabbing my dull, boring brown hair and pulling my mouth to her cunt. She had a delicious, tart flavor and Leah moaned in appreciation as I lapped at her cunt. I guess it was true about blondes and fun, because Leah sounded like she was having so much of it as my tongue explored her wet, little pussy.

To be continued…

Click here for Part 2.

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The Devil’s Pact Chapter Thirty: Tiffany’s Tale

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Chapter 30: Tiffany’s Tale

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2013


Story Codes: Teen male/Female, Male/Female, Female/Female, Mind Control, Male Domination, Female Domination, Sadism, Violence, Cockold, Watersports, Magic

For a list of all the Devil’s Pact Chapters and other stories click here

Comments are very welcome. I would like all criticism, positive and negative, so long as its
constructive, and feedback is very appreciated.



Click here for Chapter 29.



My hands were shaking as the adrenaline bled off. But the images of the dead and dying would not leave my mind. Oh, God, so many dead, I prayed. Forgive me, Lord.

“Why are you crying, Mother!” my daughter spat at me with such venom in her voice. Her bile was a dagger in my heart. “What do you have to cry about, Mother? Are your loved ones dead and dying?”

I looked sadly at my middle daughter, Mary. She was bound, sitting in the corner of the swat van. Her eyes were puffy from crying and burned a deep green with hatred. Blood mated the front of her clothing, probably Mark’s blood. I did not see any wounds on her. About her was a scarlet red aura, the stained aura of a Warlock. My own daughter sold her soul and I was sent to defeat her.

“Because all that blood is on my hands,” I whispered my answer. “That is why I am crying, Mary.”

Mary gave a shrill, almost hysterical laugh. “You fucking nuns are such hypocrites. Karen was just as sorry after she nearly killing Desiree. Did you ever think what would happen if you attacked us? Christ, Mother, your soldiers had automatic fucking weapons!”

“It was the only way,” I sadly explained. “It was all for the greater good. We had to stop Mark and…”

“And me, Mother,” Mary snarled. “You tried to kill Mark and your own daughter. What a great servant of God you are!”

I flinched as her words whipped my soul bloody. I struggled to gather my thoughts, to marshal some sort of defense against her accusations. To assuage my guilt and wash the blood from my hands. It was all for the greater good, Ramiel told me. For the future of the World. We must not be allowed to fail. Mark Glassner had to be stopped. He is a Warlock, an evil man who sold his soul and corrupted my poor daughter.

The van stopped. We must be at the getaway cars. I cloaked the SWAT van with invisibility to get us clear of the immediate area. Already cops were swarming the street that Mark lived on. But it was too dangerous to drive an invisible vehicle on the streets. We were lucky no one hit us in the short distance we had to drive.

Dennis, the only remaining SWAT officer under my control, opened the rear doors, climbed in and pulled Mary out of the van. She was dragged kicking and screaming and Dennis easily manhandled her. I followed, walking over to the several vehicles we parked here earlier today. Dennis walked over to a silver, Jeep Cherokee and threw her in the back seat. I slid in beside my daughter.

“Mark is evil,” I told Mary, trying to justify my actions to my daughter. And to myself. “He had to be stopped.”

“Did you do something to Alice?” Mary asked coldly. “Is that why she shot my fiancee, Mother?”

“Yes,” I sighed, looking down at my hands.

“Oh, so there’s another innocent person whose blood is on your hands, then, Mother. I’m sure you saw her bleeding to death when you captured me.” Mary paused, her lip curled in contempt. “She was Shannon’s best friend growing up, remember? Alice used to sleep over at the house with Shannon and you would make them cookies to eat. Oh, but that was before you turned into a whore and abandoned us!”

The pain of Mary’s words threatened to crush me as memories of a sweet, black-haired girl playing with Shannon flooded my mind. Tears were brimming at my eyes. Oh, God, what have I done. I looked down at my hands. They were surprisingly clean for hands so stained with blood. Alice. Isabella and Agnes. That blonde Thrall who spent her last breath trying to protect my daughter. From her own mother.

I should have been the one to protect Mary.

“Why couldn’t you just leave us alone?” Mary asked, bitterly.

“What you do is evil,” I said, feeling my anger replace my guilt. “You control people. Make them your slaves, steal their free will. Destroy lives. All those SWAT officers had relationships. Marriages. Broken and destroyed by what you and Mark made them do when they raided your house.”

“We didn’t kill them,” Mary spat back. “You say we destroy lives? Who was it that took control of those men and led them into a killing field. Really a good act there. Who attacked whom, Mother? You’re just as bad as we are. You killed Chasity.” Mary’s eyes brimmed with tears. “She was a sweet, loving woman and your soldiers gunned her down. You tried to kill your own daughter, Mother.”

“I didn’t know you were the other Warlock,” I protested. “I never thought in a million years my own daughter would…”

“Would be a Warlock,” Mary sneered. “Better than the whore who runs out on her family.” Mary gave a bitter laugh. “Mark is bleeding to death. It won’t be long until I’m out of your life, Mother. Than your mission will be complete.”

My forehead furrowed in confusion. “What? What are you talking about, Mary? I’m not going to kill you.”

“My Pact,” Mary whispered. “Mark wished for a long life. When I made my Pact, I wished to be young and healthy for as long as Mark lives. When he dies, I die.” She sniffed, and a small smile appeared on her lips. “We will be together for eternity.”

“I’ll exorcise you,” I said, fear squeezing my heart. I could not be responsible for my own daughter’s death. That guilt would destroy me. “Then your wish won’t matter. You’ll live past him.”

“No!” Her shout surprised me. “Let me be with him. With Mark dead and my powers broken, only prison will remain for me.”

“How can you love him, Mary?” I asked her. “Where does this devotion come from. He’s a monster. I know what a male Warlock does to his Thralls.”

“Love them?” Mary asked. “Mark never hurts them. We love them. Mark’s a good man, deep inside. The power he has, it’s too intoxicating. No one can resist it fully. You want to know why I love him, Mother? Because he has a caring soul. Because he loved me so much he set me free from his powers. Because if I asked it of him, he would give up his powers.”

I laughed. “No Warlock has ever given up their powers. Not voluntarily.”

“Mark would, for me,” Mary insisted.

“I know Warlocks far too well, Mary.” I shook my head. The poor girl was besotted with him. She was young, only nineteen. She hasn’t learned about the lies a man will tell a woman in bed. I learned that lesson before I met Sean. “They all are selfish beasts.”

Mary snorted. “You swoop in, exorcise a Warlock and then head back to whatever convent you nuns wait at. What do you really know about us? You speak like we’re evil monsters and not just people with too much power.”

“For six months I was a Thrall.” I could feel the tears brimming in my eyes as I began to tell my daughter what happened on March 15th, 2000, and the terrible nightmare that followed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thirteen Years Ago

“Look what I made at school, mommy!” Mary said, all excited, when I walked in the door from work. She was bouncing on her feet dressed in a cute, plaid jumper holding a clay tablet with her handprint in the center. “I made if for you and Daddy.” Mary was six, her auburn hair in two pig tails and her green eyes shining with happiness.

I smiled and took it from her. “It’s very pretty. Thank you, Mary. Let’s go show Daddy.”

Mary took my hand in hers and pulled me to the living room where Sean sat. I smiled at my husband. He had loosened the top few buttons of his shirt as he graded papers. A High School Teacher’s work was never quite done. Except during the summer.

“Daddy!” Mary excitedly shouted and jumped up on Sean’s lap, scattering his papers as she held up what she made in Kindergarten today.

“That’s so pretty, Mary,” Sean praised. He was a great father and I smiled fondly at him.

“Baba,” Melissa gurgled as she stomped across the floor. She still didn’t say mama right, but I didn’t mind. She was learning to walk and only fell twice before she reached me and I scooped up my youngest daughter and spun her about and kissed her rosy cheeks as she laughed.

“Have you seen Shannon?” I asked Sean. Shannon was ten, and was reaching the age where she was becoming interested in clothes, and boys. She was growing up too fast. It wouldn’t be long before I was buying her a training a bra and she was dating some pimply-faced teen.

“She’s at a Alice’s house,” Sean answered, smiling at me. He had these amazing green eyes and still kept his hair long like when we first started dating in college, tied back in a bright, red ponytail. The very image of the cool, laid-back teacher.

“Can you take Melissa, so I can start dinner?” I asked, kissing Melissa’s cute face before handing her to “daba.”

“Sure, Tiffany,” Sean smiled, taking Melissa from me. Sean’s hand brushed mine and he rubbed it just a little longer than necessary. I smiled, it was the little things that kept a marriage going.

I headed for the kitchen, trailed by Mary. I pulled on my plain, white apron and Mary pulled on her pink frilly apron. “Are you going to help mommy?” I asked her.

Mary nodded, a serious expression on her face. I gave her some simple instructions and we started gathering the ingredients for dinner when I discovered we were out of milk. I sighed and popped my head back into the living room. “Did you forget to swing by the store, Sean?”

He flushed. “Sorry, Tif,” he said. “I’ll go right away.”

I shook my head. I loved my husband, but he was so forgetful. “I’ll walk over to the Coopers and borrow some milk.”

I grabbed a small container and walked outside. The sun was setting, shining brightly on me as a drizzle of rain fell on my face. Weather in March was so unpredictable in Western Washington. It can go from sunny to rain to snow to hail and back to sun all in a twenty minute period of time. And around sunset, you would often get rain and sun at the same time. I grabbed my jacket and walked quickly up Violet Meadows, admiring a beautiful rainbow as I walked up the street to the Coopers.

I could hear music coming from an open garage, loud drums and the metallic screeching of an electric guitar. The Bronson boy and his band were practicing. They weren’t that good, but I liked to encourage Kurt. He was a nice boy, despite that absurd mohawk and lip piercing. He was always around the house, asking if he could do any chores to make some money. So, I let him clean the gutters or mow the lawn for a some money. Sean would grouse, “I can mow the lawn, Tif,” or, “I’m perfectly capable of cleaning the gutters.” Well, if I waited for Sean to get around to mowing the lawn on his own, we would have waist-high grass. And I so hated being a nag.

But today there was something different about the music. A beat that just seemed to flow into me, pulsing through my soul. They sounded good today. No, great. Their practice was starting to pay off. Before I even realized what was happening, I was crossing the street. It was hard to think about anything other than the music as I stood at the entrance to the garage. I had never heard music so amazing before. The music was a primal beat that pounded through me.

There were four members of Kurt’s band. Kurt looked so powerful, so manly, with his mohawk and piercings and ragged, jean jacket. Not his usually, scrawny seventeen-year-old self. He had transformed in my eyes into a virile man. His eyes found mine making me feel weak in the knees. I licked my lips as he stared hungrily at me and I felt my nipples harden and my pussy moisten. Kurt was lead guitar and vocalist. Next to him stood Tor, playing rhythm guitar, with his long brown hair and ears covered in piercings. Pat was the bassist and backup-vocalist, his black hair in conical spikes. Bones played drums, a big man with a shaved head.

And then for reasons I couldn’t understand, I reached under my skirt and pulled my panties down and threw them at Kurt. The music just spoke to me and it felt so right. The air was cool on my drenched pussy and more juices leaked out as Kurt grabbed my panties and inhaled my scent, smiling broadly. The other members of his band were smiling like a bunch of pleased little boys.

“What did I tell you,” Kurt boasted. “Stick with me, boys, and we’ll be famous and have more poon then you can shake a stick at.”

They started up another song and the musical was so primal that my body responded to it. My heart was hammering, my nipples ached so hard in my bra, and my poor little pussy was itching to get laid. If Sean were here, I was pretty sure I’d jump his bones right then and there. I was getting so horny. I was looking at the teenage boys playing before me. Kurt was a hot young man, and his hair spiked up into that mohawk and those piercings on his lips were really turning me on. Thoughts of Kurt on top of me flashed through my mind. He would take me, make me his woman.

“Wow, they are amazing,” Grace Copper gasped in awe. I jumped in shock, realizing she was standing next to me.

Grace was a beautiful woman with long, honey-brown hair. We were close friends. Sometimes I would babysit her three year old, Dawn, a cute little blonde girl. I blinked in surprise as Grace began unbuttoning her pants, pulling them down her slim legs. She was going to give Kurt her panties, I realized. Grace had a neatly trimmed, blonde bush and a nice ass I noticed as she threw her panties.

Then the music stopped as all the boys stared at Grace’s nudity and she suddenly flushed, realizing what she did and reached for her jeans with one hand, trying to cover her sex with the other hand.

“Wait,” Kurt said. “Why don’t you lovely ladies be our groupies.”

That was a such a great idea, I thought and I glanced at Grace and she seemed to agree with me. “Sure, Kurt,” I said with a smile

I walked into the garage and Kurt grabbed me and started kissing me. I struggled in his arms and he broke the kiss. “What’s wrong, Mrs. Sullivan? Groupies are supposed to fuck the band, right.”

“Oh, yeah,” I flushed in embarrassment. You always heard stories about girls who went backstage to be groupies, to let the band have them.

Kurt gives me the wonderful opportunity to be a groupie in his band, Satan’s Silvered Tongue, and I almost blew it. Grace was doing better, sitting on the drummer’s lap. Bones had his hands between her legs and was rubbing her pussy. Kurt was kissing me again and I kissed him back, the piercing on his lips rubbed roughly on my lips, excitingly so. When he broke the kiss there was a dark lust burning in his teenage eyes.

“I’ve been jerking off to you since I was twelve, Mrs. Sullivan,” Kurt groaned. “And now I get to fuck you.” He tore my blouse open, shaking his head. “We need to get you some better clothes. If you want to be a groupie for my band you needed to dress better.”

“Of course, Kurt,” I quickly agreed. Being a groupie for his band was the most important thing in the world to me.

My bra came off next, my round breasts spilling out. Kurt pinched one of my nipples so hard I gasped in pain. “Nice tits, Mrs. Sullivan,” Kurt smiled wickedly. “I can’t wait to pierce these fat nipples.” He yanked my skirt off, fingered my blonde pubic hair. He grabbed some of my downy hair
and ripped a fistful of it out. “My groupies need to be shaved.”

“Ouch,” I gasped, rubbing my groin where he ripped the pubic hair out. “That hurt, Kurt.”

He grabbed my nipple, pinching so hard I fell to my knees. “The pain makes me happy. Suck my cock, whore,” he ordered, his fingernail biting painfully into my nipple.

I unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock as fast as I could, sucking it into my mouth. His cock was small and skinny, even when it was fully hard in my mouth. He let go of my nipple to grab the side of my head and fuck my mouth hard. Sean was never rough like this when we made love, but if this is what made Kurt happy. I was a groupie, here to please the band.

“Oh, fuck!” Kurt moaned. “Your mouth feels as great as I imagined, Mrs. Sullivan! Suck my cock! You fucking slut! Oh, fuck!”

Kurt’s cock was shoving in and out of my mouth rapidly. Even thrust all the way inside my lips, his cock was too short to shove down my throat. I could never take all of Sean’s cock into my mouth. His balls slapped my chin as he fucked me and then he groaned and his salty cum flooded my mouth. He pulled his dick out and I spat his cum out on the garage floor. I was never a fan of cum in my mouth and Sean would always pull out and shoot onto my tits.

Kurt’s slap knocked me to the floor. “Groupies swallow,” he barked at me.

“Sorry, Kurt,” I cried. My face stung from his blow. “I’ll swallow from now on.”

“Good, if you do what I say, I want have to hurt you,” Kurt smiled.

“Okay, Kurt,” I nodded.

“Now, swallow,” he pointed to the gob of white cum congealing on the dirty garage floor.

I bent down, licking the cum up, trying not to gag on the taste of dirt and motor oil mixed in with his cum. “Lick it up, Mrs. Sullivan,” Kurt moaned. “Like a good little bitch.”

“You came so fast,” Pat laughed. “Kurt finally got a girl to suck him off and he busts his nut in a minute.”

Pat fell to the ground as Kurt punched him in the face. Blood streamed from Pat’s broken nose as Kurt drew back his foot and kicked him in the gut. Pat screamed in pain as Kurt kicked him over and over again with his steel-toed boots. “This is my fucking band, Pat!” Kurt screamed. “Don’t fucking make fun of me! No one will ever get to fucking laugh at me again.” He glared at the other two band members.

Tor was jerking off to Grace sucking sucking on Bones’s cock. “Yeah, sure,” Tor moaned as he pumped his cock.

“Yeah,” Bones groaned. “Whatever you say, Kurt. Just keep me in pussy!”

Kurt laughed and he kicked Pat once more in the stomach.

Kurt’s cock was hard as he yanked me to my feet and bent me over his dad’s Geo Prism and thrust his cock into my cunt. Kurt fucked me hard and fast. “You love my cock, don’t you, Mrs. Sullivan. It’s the best!”

Kurt’s cock was the smallest I had ever had inside me. Not that I had a lot before my husband, Sean, but Kurt’s cock was definitely the best. “I love your cock, Kurt!” I moaned back, rolling my hips and hoping my pussy was making Kurt’s cock feel wonderful.

“Fuck!” Tor groaned and I glanced over to see white cum fly from his cock so splatter in Grace’s blonde hair.

“Watch were you’re shooting that shit!” Bones growled, pulling his hand back to avoid getting hit.

“Tiffany?” a strangled voice gasped.

I turned and there was my husband Sean staring in horror at me getting fucked. I didn’t understand why he looked so horrified. I was a groupie and groupies got fucked. “Hi, Sean,” I panted. “I guess I…ohh…got sidetracked getting the milk,” I laughed.

“I…I don’t understand,” Sean stammered. Why was there so much hurt in his eyes. Did he not understand that it was okay for Kurt to fuck me.

“I’m Kurt’s groupie,” I explained.

“And you love my cock,” Kurt said with a vicious smile.

“I do, I love Kurt’s cock,” I moaned. “It’s the best cock I’ve ever had.”

Sean worked his mouth. “I…What…Is he making you say that?”

“No, Sean,” I gasped. My orgasm was building inside me. Knowing my husband was watching made this oddly thrilling. “He asked me to be his groupie and I jumped at the opportunity.”

“Fuck, your wife has a nice cunt, Mr. Sullivan,” Kurt groaned. “Now, run along. Your wife doesn’t love you anymore, right Mrs. Sullivan.”

“Yes!” I panted, as my love evaporated away. How could I love anyone when I was Kurt’s groupie, his woman. “Go away, Sean. I’m with Kurt, now. I don’t love you anymore.”

Sean stumbled off, looking like a destroyed man. I felt bad for the man. I loved him once and I never wanted to hurt him. He just needed to accept the way things were now. Kurt was fucking me harder and harder, my orgasm nearing. I groaned loudly, wanting everyone to know just how great Kurt’s dick made me feel. His cock just felt so amazing as he plunged over and over into me.

“I’m cumming, Kurt,” I moaned as my pussy rippled on the small dick inside me. “Oh, fuck, your cock feels so great.”

“Your cunt feels nice, Mrs. Sullivan,” Kurt moaned and then he was shooting inside me. I was so happy. My pussy made Kurt feel good.

Kurt pulled out and shouted, “Tor stop pounding your pud and come fuck a real pussy.”

Tor almost fell on his face, tripping as he ran over, holding his pants up one-handed, his cock bouncing about as he ran. He wasted no time sticking his dick inside me. He may have just cum on Grace, but he was ready to have a taste of my delicious pussy. I was so wet from my cum and Kurt’s sperm, Tor slid right in. He had a big dick and I moaned in appreciation as it filled me up.

“Does his dick feel better than mine?” Kurt asked as Tor pounded my cunt.

“No, Kurt!” I gasped. “Your dick’s the best.”

He smiled. It was the smile I learned to love, because it meant he was happy with me and wasn’t going to hurt me. After Tor finished in me, Bones just had to have a taste of me. His cock was smaller than Tor’s, and bigger than Kurt’s, but did not feel nearly as good. Bone was fucking me good and hard, my orgasm building nicely, when I heard a scream and turned to see what was happening.

Grace was on the floor getting fucked by Kurt. He was pinching her nipples on her large breasts and Grace was crying out in pain. That just seemed to encourage Kurt and he fucked her harder and harder, pulling on her poor nipple until her entire tit was stretched out and it looked like Kurt would rip it off. And then he would let it go, the breast snapping back like a rubber band and Kurt laughed.

“Oh please, that hurts!” moaned Grace, her face red from crying.

Kurt bit her nipple and she screamed. “Fucking slut!” Kurt moaned. “I love your screams! Do you feel how hard you’ve made me?”

“Yeah, Kurt!” Grace moaned. “You’re so hard inside me.”

Kurt started chewing at her breast, leaving bite marks and he fucked her harder and harder as she moaned in pain. “Please stop, Kurt!” she begged. “Oh, god, please! It hurts so bad.”

Bones kept right on fucking me, not caring about the cruelty Kurt was inflicting on Grace. I felt bad for her, but these were the abuses a groupie had to suffer. I had been close to cumming, but hearing Grace’s screams brought me out of it. Bones pumped a few more times into me and then he came hard inside my pussy.

When Kurt finished with Grace, she was curled up on the floor. Her breasts were bruised and raw and she whimpered in pain. Kurt had a pleased look on his face. Beyond Grace, Pat gave a quite moan as he lay battered on the floor.

“Who wants to see some lesbo action?” Kurt asked.

“Hell yeah,” Tor smiled.

“Mrs. Sullivan, why don’t you sixty-nine with her,” Kurt leered, stroking his tiny cock.

I knelt down next to Grace and gently kissed her crying face. “Shh, Grace,” I whispered. “Kurt wants us to go down on each other, okay?”

Grace sniffed. “Okay, Tiffany.”

I kissed her lips. They were soft and gentle, not like a man’s. I had never kissed a woman before and found it was nice. And being watched by Kurt and the band just increased how nice it was. I stroked her sides, avoiding her tender breasts as we kissed and Grace started to relax. I laid on my back and pulled Grace atop me. Her mauled breasts rested on mine as we kissed.

“Eat some pussy!” Bones called out.

Grace smiled, her tears had stopped, and she flipped around. Her pussy was sticky with Bones and Kurt’s cum, matting her brown fur. I licked through the sticky mess, gathering the salty cum and her sweet juices onto my lips. Grace’s tongue started gently lapping through my sore cunt. I had never been fucked so many times and my pussy wasn’t used to it.

As our tongues licked each other, our pleasure started to build and we started eating each other out more aggressively. My tongue was digging into her hole, delighting in the taste of her sex and I shuddered as her tongue found my sensitive clit. I returned the favor, nursing at her clit and feeling Grace writhe in pleasure atop me.

Suddenly, an acrid liquid splashed in my face. Kurt was pissing on Grace’s pussy, spraying us with his urine. It splashed on my face and ran down into my mouth. It stung my eyes and tasted salty on my lips. “Drink it,” Kurt ordered and I opened my mouth and let his urine fill my lips, swallowing the disgusting liquid, and then licking it off Grace’s pussy.

“Fuck that’s nasty,” Bones moaned and I could feel urine running off Grace’s face, down my pussy to pool around my ass.

Grace and I kept eating each other’s piss drenched pussies. Kurt didn’t tell us to stop. We licked the urine off each other’s pussies, then went back to sucking clits. I felt my orgasm build, a sweet thing growing in my womb. Grace’s tongue felt like silk as it rasped around my pussy. She shuddered atop me, her moans vibrating my clit as she came. I held my lips tight to her pussy, sucking all her juices out as her tongue swirled around my clit. My entire body went rigid then I shuddered beneath Grace as I came one her agile tongue.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was horrified, listening to my mom talk about the abuses she suffered at the hands of Kurt. “And he kept you and Grace?”

“Just me,” Mother bitterly said. “I was his favorite. The woman he dreamed of.” Fresh tears leaked out of her eyes. “He told Grace to go and be a whore. To make a living selling her body.”

“And that was Grace Cooper?” I asked, suddenly feeling sick. “She had a daughter named Dawn?”

Mother nodded. You’re just like your cunt of a mother! She was a whore, too! And you grew up to be just like her! The words Dawn’s father yelled as he spanked her last week when we made Dawn my little sister’s sex slave. I thought we were punishing a bully. But she was as much a victim of Kurt as her mother was. As I was. Dawn and I were both robbed of our mothers by that asshole. I suddenly felt sick. All the guilt I had been forcing down the last few weeks was threatening to overwhelm me.

Mark and I weren’t this evil, right? We never abused a woman.

Except Karen, my guilt whispered. And that girl Mark raped. But we were punishing Karen, I protested to my guilt. She attacked us. Almost got Desiree killed. She deserved her punishment. And we treat her well, now. She’s one of ours sluts. We love her. We’d defend her just as much as we’d defend the others.

“Pat died on the floor of the Garage. When the police came, Kurt just explained it as an accident and the police bought it. Pat would not be the last man Kurt killed. He was a sadist. A black-hearted monster.” Mother swallowed. “That night he got needles and pierced my nipples. It hurt so much. But not nearly as much as the piercings in my labia and the one in my clitoral hood. When he would feel vicious, he would pull on my piercings until I screamed. And the worst part was, I was happy that Kurt was hurting me.

“They replaced Pat on bass with Skinny Mat and started playing clubs. Thanks to Kurt’s wish, anyone who heard his band play would think they were amazing. Any woman would get all hot and horny for him and throw their panties on stage. Kurt would start to bring women up on stage and fuck them before the cheering crowd. If their boyfriends objected too much, Kurt would beat them. Some died, some got off with a few broken bones, and others were left brain damaged.

“And it wasn’t just men he beat. Some of the girls he chose would be beaten bloody or choked or cut.” A ragged sobbed escaped my mom’s lips. “I saw such terrible things. And then, she appeared. My rescuer.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thirteen Years Ago

My breasts were sore from Kurt’s affections as I lay on my side. Today he chewed on my breasts. He just loved them so much. But now they were painfully sore and covered in bite marks. His cum was inside my pussy and I was enjoying the after glow of a nice orgasm. Kurt’s dick never failed to leave me satisfied, even with all the pain I suffered.

A few girls crouched on the floor and Kurt was deciding which ones to show his affections to next. One of the girls, who had curly, light-brown hair, gave Kurt a mocking smile, almost a sneer as she glared at him with gray eyes filled with loathing.

“Fucking whore!” snarled Kurt.

Nothing would make Kurt angrier than being mocked. His hand snaked out and he grabbed the girl by the hair. She clamped her mouth shut to avoid screaming as Kurt heaved her across the room into his table. It was a heavy, wooden table, more of a workbench really, where Kurt kept his tools for the girls that made him really angry: pliers, knives, hammers, needles, whips.

The woman slammed into the table, hard, the corner catching her in the stomach. She flopped across the table and snatched up a skinning knife, holding it up threateningly at Kurt. The woman’s mocking smile only grew larger as Kurt boldly walked over to her. She looked like a Valkyrie, standing defiant against Kurt.

It was a futile gesture. No one could resist Kurt. All fighting would earn you was pain. I wanted to close my eyes, I hated watching Kurt punish a woman. But Kurt liked it when I watched his chastisements. When he would finish, he would be hard and I would have to satisfy him. I felt so bad for this woman. Kurt was going to kill her, and it wouldn’t be quick. My stomach roiled and I wanted to sick up.

“You can’t stab me with that dagger,” Kurt lazily ordered. He stood right next to the woman, the knife inches away and held out his hand. “Give me that dagger so I can cut your mocking lips off, cunt.”

Kurt screamed as the woman stabbed his arm with the dagger, instead. He staggered back, fear blossoming in his face as the blood ran red down his arm, his feet tripping on themselves and he fell on his ass. And the woman walked towards him, bloody dagger in hand. I smelled urine and realized Kurt had pissed himself, a dark stain spreading on his jeans.

The woman grabbed a pair of his handcuffs off Kurt’s worktable. Kurt had quite a collection at this point, “Please don’t hurt me?” Kurt blubbered like a baby as the woman advanced on him. “Who are you? Why doesn’t my power’s work on you? Please, I can give you whatever you want. Please!”

“Handcuff yourself around the table leg,” she growled, tossing him the handcuffs.

Kurt was eager to obey, snapping the handcuff about his right wrist, wrapping the chain around the table leg and then cuffing his left hand, trapping him to the table. “Please! I can give you wealth! Please!”

The woman ignored his please and bent down, pulling off his urine soaked pants and saw his little cock. “Such a tiny prick for such a large monster,” the woman mocked, stroking the cock. The cock swelled unbidden in her hand. “No wonder you had to sell your soul. How could you ever get a woman, let alone satisfy one, with that little thing.”

Kurt was sobbing. “I’ll do anything! Just don’t hurt me!”

The woman’s lip curled in disgust. “I am Sister Louise Afra of the Order of Mary Magdalene. I have been sent by God to stop your perversions, Warlock!”

Sister Louise straddled Kurt, guiding his cock to her pussy, sliding down his short length. “If you wanted to fuck me, you just had to ask,” Kurt’s voice cracked with mock bravado, a forced grin on his face.

“When you cum in me, and you will cum, I will exorcise your powers.” There was a broad smile on Sister Louise’s face and horror appearing in Kurt’s. “Yes, you realize it now. All the people under your control will regain themselves. Everyone will remember all the lives you destroyed, all the pain you inflicted. I do not think the authorities will be so forgiving anymore or all those accidental deaths.”

“No, please no!” he begged as Sister Louise rose up and down on his cock. “I won’t cum. You can’t make me!”

“It’s biology, monster,” Sister Louise purred wickedly. “You won’t be able to hold on forever. You’re seventeen, I bet it won’t be able to last long at all.”

Kurt struggled beneath her, fighting to get free of his handcuffs and Sister Louise rose up and down on him, laughing and mocking him. “Your dick is so small, I can barely feel it in my pussy.” Faster and faster she rode him, dangling her breasts in his face. Kurt started looking around, looking for anything to help him.

“Mrs. Sullivan!” he shouted, his eyes staring at me. Even after six months and countless abuses, he still called me Mrs. Sullivan. “Save me, attack her!”

My Kurt was in trouble and I leapt to my feet and went at Sister Louise. Her finger moved down, sliding up inside her cunt alongside to his cock and came out stick with her juices and then she thrust her finger at my forehead and spoke a single word, and I stumbled back and I just watched. Nothing mattered as I watched Kurt struggle against his bonds.

“Save me, cunt!” Kurt growled and Sister Louise slapped him.

“The only cunt here is you,” she hissed. “A little cunt with a little dick who thought he was a big man!”

Sister Louise leaned back, riding him faster and faster. She started rolling her hips, her breasts bouncing. She started grinding her clit and playing with her nipples, clearly enjoying Kurt’s humiliation. When she came, she let out a low, throaty moan, her breasts heaving beautifully as she rode him. And she never stopped, kept fucking him right through her orgasm.

Kurt was biting his lip, straining not to cum and then his body arched and Sister Louise screamed, “Shalak!” and drew something on his forehead with her sticky finger. Kurt’s forehead blazed with white light and…I was myself.

And everything Kurt did to me, made me enjoy, made me commit poured into my mind and I collapsed on the floor sobbing. A ragged ache filled my heart. I betrayed my sweet Sean. Oh God. I could remember the hurt in his eyes as I allowed Kurt to fuck me. My poor husband thought I betrayed him. I sobbed and sobbed, screaming in guilt. How could I have done that to my husband, the only man I ever really loved. I’d lost him, forever. There was no undoing what I did, what Sean saw. I remembered signing the divorce papers Kurt placed in front of me, signing away my parental rights to my daughters. Writing that disgusting letter Kurt dictated to me.

“Sean,” I wrote, “You and the girls are just burdens to me. I want to have fun, to go out partying. To enjoy wild sex. I haven’t been happy for a long time. But I’m happy with Kurt. I’m happy when his cock fucks me. I’m happy when he cums in my cunt or my ass. I love it when shares me with his friends. Your cock just wasn’t good enough for my horny cunt.” I signed my name and left the letter and the documents on the bed I shared with Sean while he and the girls were at work and school and daycare. I packed up a suitcase with the few slutty clothes I owned from before the girls were born, and never even looked back.

I sobbed and sobbed and then my savior was hugging me. “Shh, it’s alright. He can never hurt you again.”

I clung to her crying my pain into her chest as she gently rocked me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Sister Louise explained it all to me,” Mom said, finishing her story. I felt tears staining my face.

We were sitting on the floor of a house out in the foothills somewhere near Eatonville. Mom never stopped telling her story the entire ride. She didn’t stop as we walked up to the house and sat on this musty, old couch. I spent all these years hating my mom and now I didn’t know what to think, what to feel.

I remembered the betrayal I felt when Mark released me after only a day under his control. And Mark never mistreated me. Six months she endured that monsters brutal lusts.

Questions and guilt whirled in my head. Do all our girls feel this way? We never mistreated them. We loved them. We weren’t the monster Kurt was. Was it right to keep them? Was I just as much a monster as Kurt? Could we even free them if we wanted to? We bound them with the Zimmah spell. Did we destroy their lives?

What did it matter, Mark was dying and I would follow him into death.

“Why didn’t you come back to us?” I asked, pushing away the guilt. “Dad’s never stopped loving you, mom? Why didn’t you come back to us, Mom?”

She flinched as if she’d been slapped. “H-he never stopped loving me?” Pain flickered on her face. “How could he still love me after…after all Kurt made me do?”

“I don’t know, Mom,” I answered. “Shannon and I tried to convince him to forget about you and find someone else. We tried to set him up with teachers, friend’s single mothers. But he turned them all down. He even still wears his wedding ring.”

Tears brimmed in Mother’s eyes. “Kurt, he…he threw my wedding band away. ‘Marriage is just trash,’ he told me. ‘My mom bailed on my dad and me. We were just garbage to her.’ And…” A ragged sob shook her body. “I thanked him for freeing me from my marriage.”

God, I wanted to hug her. If my hands weren’t zip tied behind my back I think I would have. “You can still go to dad,” I urged her. “Free me and we’ll go see dad, and, and I can be with Mark when he…when he passes.”

A look of incredible longing crossed my mom’s face. “I…I made vows.” Her voice quivered. “I received Sister Frances Bernadette’s Gift.” She hugged herself. “Oh, God, please help me. I don’t know what to do. I miss Sean so much.”

“Let’s go, Mother,” I told her, gazing into her blue eyes. “Dad’s waiting for you. I don’t think he ever stopped waiting for you. And…and, I want my mom back. I can explain to Dad what happened to you. He knows about…things. About what Mark and I can do. He’ll understand.”

I could see her wavering, the look of longing on her face, and of hope.

Then her phone rang.

“Theodora,” she answered. Her face hardened. My heart sank, I’ve lost her. My hopes of seeing Mark one last time faded. “Come inside,” she said on the phone.

“Please, mommy,” I begged as she picked up a roll of duct tape, ripping off length of silvery tape. “Please, let’s go see Dad. Please, mommy!” She walked forward and shoved the tape on my lips. The tape was stiff and sticky and I could faintly taste glue on my lips.

The SWAT officer walked in and Theodora pulled out his sidearm, checked to see if it was loaded, and then looked at me with steely resolve. “Let’s put your claims to the test, Mary.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You can still see her, Mark,” a woman’s voice floated out of the darkness. “You are not dead, yet.”

“Who’s there?” I shouted into the darkness. Then I realized I was no longer falling, feminine hands were grasping my shoulders, long fingernails biting into my collar bone. I spun around and gasped. “Lilith?”

She floated in the darkness, as stunningly beautiful as always. Her silvery hair fanned out, waving lazily about, her violet eyes sparkling with contempt. She was clad in her scarlet dress, so sheer I could see all of her generous charms. I felt lust stirring inside me and I fought it down. I would need a clear head to deal with Lilith.

“Here to taunt me?” I asked.

A smile played on her lips. “As satisfying as that would be, we have one last piece of business to discuss.”

“Not interested,” I shrugged. I learned my lesson dealing with Lilith.

“Even if it would save your life.” Her smile broadened. “And your precious Mary’s life.”

I paused. I didn’t want to die. “What?”

“I want Karen.”

“You want the thing growing inside her, you mean?”

Her eyes tightened and she pursed her lips. “Yes. I want Karen, and my child, until she gives birth. Then I’ll return her to you.”

I squinted. “Why. Once I’m dead, how can I stop you from having her? What game are you playing at, Lilith.”

“You bonded her with the Zimmah ritual. Did you forget what I told you?” Her eyes narrowed in disgust. “Did you forget that when you die all those bound to you will die. And I can’t have Karen dying before she gives birth. That would spoil all of my plans.”

“So, in exchange for me loaning you Karen until your child is born, you will return me to the health I had before Alice shot me,” I carefully said. “And you will return Karen to me unharmed.”

“I will do nothing to harm Karen,” Lilith promised.

I frowned. I couldn’t see any loopholes. I’m sure they were there, but I really had nothing left to lose. “Then we have a deal, Lilith.”

She smiled a predatory, triumphant smile. “I grant your boon, Mark Glassner,” her words purred through the darkness and suddenly I was filled with pain and…

…I was staring up at the sky. I had a mask over my face. Two strange men and a woman were leaning over me. They were paramedics, I realized. I sat up, pushing the facemask off. I felt something piercing my arm, an IV I realized, and ripped that out.

“What the fuck!” the first paramedic shouted.

My shirt was gone and several bandages dotted my chest and stomach. I ripped them off to see my perfectly unharmed chest and stomach smeared with some dark blood. I felt alive. I smiled broadly and yelled my exhilaration into the sky. I was alive. I could feel the tickle of grass on my hands, the feel of the warm sun kissing my skin and a soft breeze rustling my hair. The world smelled alive and wonderful.

“I am alive!” I roared and laughed. Nothing else ever felt so sweet. “Mary, I’m alive!”

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

There were cops standing around, all staring in amazement at me. “How?” one asked me.

“A miracle,” another whispered.

“Praise God,” a cop whispered.

“What are you?” a fireman asked. “How did you…”

“Tell me you got that! Tell me you were rolling film?” a woman demanded. Debra from Q13 Fox, her microphone hanging loosely in her hand as she stared in wide-eyed amazement. “Tell me you to got that?”

“Holy shit, I got that,” her cameraman answered, pointing is camera at me. “I got the scarlet light and everything. Holy fucking shit!”

“This is unbelievable,” Debra gasped. “Let’s do my coverage over there and then upload this to the network! Jesus, this is the news story of the century. A miracle happened and we caught it!”

I was about to object to Debra’s plans when I got a good look at the cul-de-sac and my heart stopped. It looked like a war zone. The street was lined with ambulances, fire trucks, and cop cars. And everywhere I looked there were people lying on the ground, some had paramedics working on them, others were covered by blankets. Houses and cars were shot up. Bullet casings glinted gold in the sunlight.

And blood. Dark blood pooling on pavement, splashed on the sides of houses, running down the fenders of cars.

I looked back at our house and gasped. Bullet holes racked along the front of the house, shattering windows. Our sluts were clustered on the porch watching me in amazement. A stretcher came out, carried by two firemen. I stared in stunned disbelief as they walked by carrying Xiu. My busty Xiu had a mass of bloody bandages on her stomach and looked so pale as they carried her past to a waiting ambulance.

What the hell happened here? And where was Mary? The last thing I remembered was Mary’s face before the darkness. I looked around and I noticed the bodies covered with blankets dotting the neighborhood. Fear constricted my heart. No, she could not be dead. Not when I got a second chance.

“What happened? Where’s Mary?” I asked, ignoring all the cops and fireman that were watching me with awe.

“Sir, we were attacked by some nuns,” a bodyguard told me. She was Black, one of the new guards. 51, I think her number was.

“Where is Mary?” I demanded. Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead.

“The nun took her,” 51 bitterly said. “We tried to stop her, but…”

“The nun’s used the SWAT from the raid,” Violet told me. There was a bandage on her forehead. “We were all so frightened, Master.”

The teenage slut hugged me fiercely. The other sluts followed her down, clustering about me. All of them reached out to touch me, smiling happily and muttering about me being alive. There was Alison and Desiree, and Korina, pregnant with my child. April and Lillian hugged each other in joy. Jessica and Thamina were supporting Sam, who had a bloody bandage on her leg.

All the sluts were accounted for. Xiu was being loaded into the back of an ambulance. Willow and Noel were at work. Karen was in the hospital and it was Fiona’s turn to stay with her. I frowned, no, there was one slut missing. “Where’s Chasity?” I demanded. “We need to go after the nuns. We need to rescue Mary.”

“She’s dead, sir,” 51 reported, sadly.

“Who is dead?” I asked, confused. Not Chasity.

51′s eyes flicked over to a body near the shot-up police cruiser. “Chasity, sir. She died defending Mistress. I got the man who killed her.” She patted the black machine-gun in her hands.

I stared uncomprehendingly at her. How could Chasity be dead? She was so dependable. Anger started to burn in me. These fucking nuns. Why couldn’t they just leave me the fuck alone. I never did anything to them. I felt pain in hand and uncurled my fist to see bloody nail marks in my palm.

“Who else died?” I asked, coldly, staring at my hand.

“05, 22, 34, 63, and 78,” 51 reported. “04, 30, and 47 are critically injured and may not survive. And Xiu. She took a round through the gut from inside the house. Another eighteen bodyguards have moderate injuries. There are only ten of us fit for duty.” She paused. “We killed two nuns and three of the SWAT and critically injured another four. We captured another four more with moderate injuries. One nun and a SWAT officer got away. Along with Mary. Alice, the woman who shot you, she sustained critical injuries and may not survive either.”

“Fuck,” I whispered. Emotions threatened to overwhelm me and I shoved them back down. I needed to save Mary. The rest, the grief and anger and guilt, that all could wait.

“Sam!” I barked at the injured Asian graduate student. She was our newest sex slave. She was translating the Magicks of the Witch of Endor for us. “Is there any spell in the book that would let me track Mary?”

She frowned, thinking. “Um, yes. The Alluwph ritual. You will need, um, something very personal of the person and hold it in your hands. Think about the person, about your connection with the person and say Alluwph.”

Something personal. I frowned then went into Mary’s art studio. I found my buttoned-down shirt she liked to wear when painting. She always looked so beautiful wearing only this shirt. I held it in my hands, thinking about Mary, about her beautiful smile, how the shirt draped her plump ass and how beautiful her bare legs looked. I concentrated as hard as I possibly could, and whispered, “Alluwph.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I watched Karen’s hospital room from the shadows. One of Mark’s whores, Fiona, was watching Karen, a bored expression on Fiona’s face. I smiled, Karen was mine, now. Well, she was mine until the birth, and that gave me certain powers over her.

I manifested and Fiona jumped in alarm, shouting, “Lilith!”

I ignored the stupid girl. There was nothing I could do to her anyways. This manifestation could not interact with the Mortal World except in certain, very limited ways. It didn’t have the freedom of being summoned, but it was enough freedom. And owning Karen, even temporary, was one of those limited exceptions. I reached out and grabbed the unconscious woman’s hand. I could feel her life being slowly drained by my vessel growing quickly inside her.

“Soon,” I whispered to her belly. Soon my vessel would be born I would be free of the Abyss forever.

I concentrated and drew Karen with me back into the Shadows and then shifted to Seattle, to the house of Babylon. It was a modest dwelling, but adequate, for now. I concentrated again, and Manifested with Karen into the guest bedroom. Chantelle and Lana were ready, scooping Karen up off the floor and placing her gently in the waiting bed.

“Keep her safe,” I charged my High Priestesses.

“We won’t fail you, my Goddess,” Chantelle murmured.

Both women stared reverently at Karen’s belly. Lana reached out and placed her hand ever so gently on Karen’s stomach. A smile quickened on her face. Chantelle’s hand joined hers, awe painting Chantelle’s beautiful face. They both knew their Goddess grew within.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I whispered, “Alluwph.”

From my chest, a pair of entwined red threads, wrapped so tightly together they were practically one thread. A black chain wrapped about both of the threads, shackled them together. I recognized those red threads. They connected my soul to Mary’s soul and represented our love. The threads led off to the south, vanishing through the wall. Tears were shining in my eyes.

“I’m coming, Mare,” I whispered. “Just hold on.”

I ran back outside. “51, gather the remaining bodyguards. We’re going after Mary.”

“Yes, sir!” 51 saluted.

The ten bodyguards still fit for duty and I piled into three cop cars. I rode shotgun in the lead car, guiding 51 as best as I could. The line pointed straight to where Mary was, but not which streets to take. We tore off down Shaw Road heading south. Eventually we were forced to cut west when we hit Sunrise Drive. We drove west until we reached Meridian, and then we turned south. We passed through Graham, racing as fast as we could. Once we were through Graham, heading out towards Eatonville, the threads led us down several side roads until we came to a single house in the middle of a field. A silver Jeep Cherokee parked in the driveway. The threads pointing right towards the house.

We got out of the car, the bodyguards flanking out to encircle the house. Three of them were armed with AR-15′s, the others with handguns and shotguns. All were wearing flak jackets. My heart was hammering. My Mary was inside that house. I was so close. I just wanted to run across the field and kick in the door and save my love.

The door to the house banged open and an unarmed SWAT officer walked out, his arms held up. He marched forward, straight towards me. The bodyguards all trained their weapons on him but none opened fire. I could see the SWAT officers aura, the black of a Thrall, but surrounded by a band of gold, a corona of light around darkness.

“Mark Glassner I have a message for you!” he shouted. “You, and only you, are to enter the house unarmed. If you enter armed or if anyone else enters, Theodora shall kill your woman. You have five minutes or Mary dies.”

And then he turned and started walking back to the house. I stood up and 51 grabbed my arm. “Master, don’t. Never give a hostage taker another hostage.”

She was quoting her training at me, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t risk Mary’s life. If this Theodora wanted to talk. Fine. She had a lot to answer for. I strode out across the field, almost catching up with the SWAT officer before I reached the house. I followed him in and he led me to a small living room.

Mary was gagged and her arms were bound behind her back. Tears ran down her eyes and she struggled against her restraints. A sandy-blonde woman, young like all the nuns, with piercing blue eyes, stood next to Mary, a 9mm handgun pointed at her head. Fear roiled inside me. I would need to be careful. I didn’t want to provoke this woman, not with Mary’s life at stake.

“I am Mark Glassner,” I said, holding my hands out to the side. “Let’s talk, Theodora. There’s no need for any more violence.”

“I’ve been speaking with Mary, here, and she seems to think there’s some good in you,” Theodora answered. Her blue eyes were skeptical of the claim.

I noticed Theodora’s face was puffy from crying and there was something familiar about it. Mary and her could almost be sisters, I realized. Their faces have a similar, heart shape about them. “We can come to an arrangement, Theodora. No one else needs to get hurt.” Especially not my Mary.

“Mary claims that you would give up your powers for her.” She cocked the hammer. “Well, let’s put that to the test. You can walk out of here, Mark Glassner, and keep your powers, and I’ll kill Mary. Or, you can let me exorcise you.” A smile played on her lips. “Let’s see if you can really give up all that power.”

I looked at Mary’s face, at her green eyes. I saw the trust in her eyes, the love. Could I give up all my power for Mary? Memories of Mary floated through my mind, all the fun we’ve had. All the times I watched her sleep. The times I’ve gazed deeply into her green eyes. The feel of her as I held er in my arms. Could I give up all my powers for that? Could I give up the thrill of making someone do what I want them to do? The pleasure of a woman submitting to my lusts. Was Mary worth giving all that up?

Yes, she was.

“Exorcise me,” I said, calmly.

The SWAT officer grabbed my arm and ratcheted a metal handcuff about my wrist, then he pivoted and I was being slammed into the ground. I coughed, the wind was knocked out of me when I hit the hardwood floor. Stunned and struggling to breath, the SWAT officer easily dragged me over to a metal radiator and slid the handcuff through the pipes and ratcheted the cuff about my other wrist.

Theodora sighed in disbelief and pulled the gun away and handed it back to the SWAT officer who holstered his weapon. “I can’t believe you would do this,” she whispered, glancing back at Mary. She bit her lip and for a moment; she looked liked a blonde Mary. “You must really love her.”

“More than anything,” I answered. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Of course,” she answered and began pulling off her maid outfit. I blinked, why was she wearing a maid’s outfit? It was gray smock, the type you’d see a maid wear at any hotel. Underneath, she was naked and quite lovely, full breasts with fat nipples, a trimmed, blonde bush between sleek thighs. My cock stirred and I didn’t fight the lust.

There was no point in fighting. Theodora won.

She walked over to me and I looked away, finding Mary’s eyes. I focused on her beautiful, emerald eyes as I felt her hands fumbling with my pants and then they were pulled down, along with my boxers. A warm, soft hand stroked my cock until I was fully erect, then I was engulfed in a warm, wet pussy.

Theodora moaned softly and started riding my cock, rolling her hips. She was quite good. All these supposedly holy nuns were so good at fucking. Karen really knew how to work a dick. And this Theodora also knew just how to please a man. She rose up and down on me, faster and faster. She felt so amazing and I pretended it was Mary on me. Mary’s velvety cunt bringing me closer and closer to my orgasm.

I would go to jail. I would try and protect Mary as much as I could, but there was no way I wasn’t going away for the rest of my life. But Mary would get to live, and that was worth it. Hell, maybe they’ll give me conjugal visits. The last three weeks of my life with Mary had been the best. I would never want to give them up.

My balls were tightening, Theodora’s gasps was getting heavier and louder. She was enjoying herself, I realized. Well, she might as well enjoy her work. I was getting so close, just a few more strokes and it would be over. I kept staring into Mary’s green eyes. I saw the love in them. She was worth it.

I groaned as my balls tightened and the pleasure surged through my body. My cum shot inside her tight cunt, filling Theodora’s pussy. I could feel her cunt spasming on my cock as she came, her back arching in pleasure. She threw back her head and shouted a single word.

“Zebed!”

I gasped in amazement. Instead of the my power being drawn out of me like I expected, I felt golden power flow into me. The energy was warm and filled every fiber of my body. Every fiber of my soul. I saw Mary’s eyes wideningin amazement. I looked up at Theodora, her face flushed from her orgasm, and her aura was fading from the gold of a nun into the silver of a regular human.

Theodora was no longer a nun.

“What did you do to me?” I asked Theodora in confusion.

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 31.

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