Tag Archives: Female/Female

Contains lesbian sex

Der Pakt mit dem Teufel Kapitel 25: Achteinhalb Wochen

 

 

Der Pakt mit dem Teufel

Kapitel 25: Achteinhalb Wochen

Von mypenname3000

Übersetzt von Horem

© Copyright 2013, 2014


Story Codes: Male/Female, Male/Females, Female/Female, Female/Females, Mind Control, Anal, Ass to Mouth, Rimming, Oral, Creampie, Wife, Exhibitionism, Cheating, Work

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 24.



Ich stand mit Mary auf dem Balkon unseres Schlafzimmers. Wir schauten auf das Haus, von dem aus die Überwachungsfotos und –videos offensichtlich gemacht worden waren. Es hatte zwei Etagen, stand auf einer kleinen Anhöhe und hatte einen perfekten Blick auf die Rückseite und auf die linke Seite unseres Hauses.
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The Devil’s Pact Side-Story: Mark and Mary’s One Year Anniversary

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Side-Story: Mark and Mary’s One Year Anniversary

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2014


Story Codes: Male/Female, Female/Female, Female/Teen female, Male/Females, Male/Teen female, Anal Sex, Mind Control, Exhibitionism, Wedded Lust, Oral Sex, Romance

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.



Notes: This takes place between Chapter 49 and Chapter 50.



Sunday, July 20th, 2014 – Mark Glassner – Hawaii
“If everyone can please take their seats, we’ll be landing in Honolulu in a few minutes,” Lynda stated over Air Force One’s intercom.
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Der Pakt mit dem Teufel Kapitel 23: Der letzte Wunsch

 

 

Der Pakt mit dem Teufel

Kapitel 23: Der letzte Wunsch

Von mypenname3000

Übersetzt von Horem

© Copyright 2013, 2014


Story Codes: Male/Female, Male/Females/Teen females, Female/Female, Hermaphrodite/Female, Hermaphrodite/Females, Mind Control, Female Domination, Ass to Mouth, Anal, Oral, Orgy, Creampie, Bondage/Domination, Romance, Watersports, Incest

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 22.



Violet lag keuchend auf der Couch, mein Sperma rann aus ihrer Fotze. Ich würde diesen Schwanz noch zwei Stunden haben. Ich wusste genau, warum Lilith mich als ihren Preis den Schwanz haben ließ. Es hatte natürlich überhaupt nichts damit zu tun, dass sie mir ein besonders angenehmes Erlebnis bereiten wollte. Nein, sie hoffte, dass ich süchtig nach der Lust werden würde und dass ich ihn nicht mehr aufgeben konnte. Lilith hegte einen tiefen Groll auf alle Menschen und es schien ihr Freude zu bereiten, uns Probleme zu bescheren.
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The Devil’s Pact Servants’ Chronicles Chatper 2: The Naughty Stewardesses

 

 

The Devil’s Pact Servants’ Chronicles

Chapter 2: The Naughty Stewardesses

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2014


Story Codes: Female/Female, Female/Females, Reluctant, Magic, Exhibitionism, Public Sex, Wife, Cuckolding, Sex Toy

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 1.



Notes: This takes between Chapters 41 and 42.

Thursday, October 31st, 2013 – Monique Lavoie – Lansing, MI

“Everyone take your seats,” Joslyn announced over Air Force One’s loudspeakers.
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Der Pakt mit dem Teufel Kapitel 21: Die Glassners

 

 

Der Pakt mit dem Teufel

Kapitel 21: Die Glassners

Von mypenname3000

Übersetzt von Horem

© Copyright 2013


Story Codes: Male/Female, Male/Females, Female/Female, Mind Control, Incest, Oral, Magic, Rough

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 20.



Stille im Auto. Marys Hand hielt die meine und sie drückte sie leicht. Ihre Hand war warm und beruhigend. Mein Vater war tot. Meine Mama hatte ihn erschossen. Ich wusste nicht, was ich machen sollte. Ich wusste nicht, was ich sagen sollte. Ich öffnete meinen Mund, strengte meinen Kiefer an, aber kein Wort kam heraus. Was konnte ich sagen? Was sollte ich jetzt tun? Mein Vater war tot. Der Bastard war tot.
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Der Pakt mit dem Teufel Kapitel 20: Die Prüfung

 

 

Der Pakt mit dem Teufel

Kapitel 20: Die Prüfung

Von mypenname3000

Übersetzt von Horem

© Copyright 2013


Story Codes: Male/Female, Teen male/Teen female, Female/Female, Female/Teen female, Male/Females, Male/Teen male/Teen female, Mind Control, Female Domination, Orgy, Magic, Anal, Oral, Rimming, Ass to Mouth, Ass to Pussy, Incest

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 19



Als Mark das Bett verließ, riss er mich aus meinem Traum. Ich hatte diesen Traum immer wieder. Meine Mutter, diese Hure hatte uns nicht verlassen und wir lebten alle glücklich als eine Familie zusammen. Und dann kam dann immer dieser Moment der Enttäuschung, wenn ich wach wurde und erkannte, dass es nur ein Traum gewesen war. Meine Mutter war wirklich weggelaufen, um mit diesem Musiker rumzuhuren. Zorn stieg in meinem Bauch auf, also drängte ich die Gedanken an meine Mutter mit Gewalt zurück. Die vergangene Nacht war fantastisch gewesen und ich fühlte mich immer noch gut. Ich wollte mir den Tag mit derartigen Gedanken nicht verderben. Sie hatte sich nicht um mich gekümmert, warum sollte ich also meine Gedanken an sie verschwenden.
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The Devil’s Pact Side-Story: Lillian Get’s Spanked

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Side-Story: Lillian Get’s Spanked

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2014


Story Codes: Female/Female, Male/Females, Consensual Sex, Spanking, Oral Sex, Sadism/Masochism, Female Domination, Male Domination, Female Submissive, Watersports

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.



Notes: This takes place during Chapter 43 and at the same time as Violet’s Affair and April’s Cumbath.



Friday, November 8th, 2013 – Lillian Franks – Murano Hotel, Tacoma, WA

“Lillian,” Tomoyo greeted when I opened my hotel room door. She was one of the maids, and cute as a button with dark, slanted eyes and a petite body. I had enjoyed the teen and her tiny tits a few times. She was a screamer. “My Lady will attend to your punishment now.”

I had to suppress my grin. I had mouthed off during the meeting in the Matmown early this morning. Very early. Master and Mistress hadn’t gotten back from Nebraska until well after midnight. Mistress had promised to discipline me tonight and—

The Devil was using Master to get free.

My good mood almost evaporated at the thought’s intrusion. The Devil wanted to break free, and was using Master to do it. Now we were planning on attacking Lilith and capturing the bitch, and thereby thwarting the Devil’s plans. So long as Lilith lived, he was trapped. A surge of excitement exploded inside my stomach; I couldn’t wait to humiliate the demoness and pay her back for Karen’s death!

“If you will follow me, miss,” Tomoyo motioned. As if I didn’t know the way to Master and Mistress’s suite. It was just a floor above.

“Lead on, cutie,” I grinned, and reached under her skirt to give her naked ass a playful squeeze. Nice and firm. She tossed a sultry smile over her shoulder.

We passed Abigail, a gorgeous brunette maid, her heavy tits jiggling wonderfully in her mesh bodice, and her ass swayed beautifully beneath her skirt and ruffled petticoats. Tomoyo gave a furtive glance at the maid; her light-olive cheeks tinged with red.

I pulled her into the elevator. “So you’re sweet on hot, little Abigail?”

She looked down, perfectly capturing that sexy, demure posture of a geisha. Willow had a great eye for talent. Every maid was perfect. “She doesn’t even notice me.”

“Make her notice you,” I purred. “Attack her. Kiss her. Stick your hand down the front of her blouse and play with those delightful melons of hers.”

She looked so cute as her blush deepened. I wanted to press her against the elevator and devour her. Fuck! I had my punishment with Mistress, and after that I was going out with Violet and April. Tomorrow night, maybe? If I remember, I’ll trip her into my bed and ravish her. And maybe Abigail, too.

“I couldn’t do that,” Tomoyo moaned. “What if she pushes me away?”

“She won’t.” I pinched her ass. “You have such a cute vibe that just screams ‘ravish me.’ She won’t be able to resist. She’s a hot blooded-slut. Trust me!”

Abigail loved to dine on fish taco, and devoured mine for an hour straight two nights ago. The girl had an insatiable mouth. She’d eat little Tomoyo for breakfast. I wanted to see that! I pressed my thighs together, moisture trickling down my leg. Damn! I needed a nice cum.

Well, it was fun getting spanked by Mistress.

The elevator dinged. Two bodyguards, 49 and 50, guarded Master and Mistress’s suite. They were new guards that had joined after Brandon’s attack, and both were, of course, gorgeous. 49 was a stunning African American, with a pair of voluminous, ebony breasts about to fall out of her blouse, while 50 had bright, red hair that fell in curls around her more modest, though still lovely, chest.

49 slapped my ass through the very short, red-and-black tartan skirt I wore. “Naughty slut!” she grinned.

“All the time,” I laughed, and gave her a kiss on the lips. She may be new, but she fit right in with the rest of us horny women.

I adjusted my blouse, plain white, tied just below my perky, B cup tits. When I walked, they swayed and jiggled, my nipples pink shadows through the thin material. I ran a finger through my black hair highlighted with bright blue and purple, pushing a loose strand behind my ear.

“You look hot,” giggled 50. “Ma’am is going to thoroughly enjoy punishing you.”

I licked my lips, enjoying the cool, metallic feel of my lip piercing, and smiled. “I better not keep her waiting!”

50 opened the door, ushering me in. “She’s waiting in their bedroom.”

The suite was luxurious, and had several bedrooms, though only one was in use. Each of us sluts had our own suite, except Alison and Desiree who shared one. I strode across the room, putting on a suitably fearful expression. Mistress would love that.

I knocked softly at the bedroom door.

“Enter,” Mistress answered.

She sat at her vanity in a blue, silk robe. Her beautiful, auburn hair cascaded about her shoulders as she gently worked a long-handled brush through it. My asscheeks tightened. Is that what she’s going to spank me with? She didn’t glance at me, so I just stood there, my stomach slowly twisting in knots.

Another bead of pussy juice ran down my thigh. It tickled; I wanted to plunge my hand beneath my skirt and stroke my aching cunt. But, no, Mistress wouldn’t want that. She hummed, still brushing her beautiful hair. She shifted; the robe was open, and I could see the profile of her perky, freckled breast topped by a dusky nipple and the gentle swell of her pregnant belly. Perfection!

I shifted my hips, shivering as my thighs pressed against my burning clit. I could see a smile playing on her lips. Her nipples hardened, rising up like little, dark-pink shoots. My own nipples were hard, and when I breathed they rubbed pleasantly against the fabric of my blouse. Another tremble passed through me; I needed to cum. I needed to be punished.

Please, Mistress, please!

She never looked at me once, though her smile grew more and more pleased as my trembling became more and more pronounced. My thighs were drenched with my passion, and the air was thick with my tart aroma. I rubbed sweaty palms on my tartan skirt, then forced them to grasp my sleek thighs. I so wanted to shove my hands between my legs. I knew I would cum in a matter of seconds. No! You are her slut! It’s not your place to cum unless she wants you to.

But God, I so wanted to disobey her.

Finally, she carefully set her brush down, and stood up and turned, her green eyes flashing with admiration. I looked downward, full of remorse. Her smile grew more wicked. She shrugged, and her robe slipped to the floor; I feasted on her glory. She was the most beautiful woman in the world. Even before I became their slut, I had enjoyed my fair share of hotties, but they were all candles compared to her bonfire.

“Why are you here?” she asked, her fingers idly stroking her belly, just starting to show her pregnancy, before trailing down to play with her silky pubic hair shaped into a fiery heart.

“To be punished, Mistress,” I answered contritely, still looking down at her dainty feet. “I belittled my fellow slut.”

“And how should I punish you?”

“The hairbrush, Mistress,” I moaned, squeezing my thighs together. I was so hot. I could cum just by squeezing my aching clit.

“I want you to apologize first,” she smiled, stretching out on the bed.

I looked around. Was Violet here?

“With your tongue,” Mistress answered. “All over my body.”

“Oh, yes!” I sauntered to the bed. “I am so sorry, Mistress. Let my naughty tongue caress your heavenly body.”

I crawled onto the bed, grasping her soft hand. I brought her dainty fingers to my lips, and sucked. I worshiped them with my tongue like they were Master’s cock. Nibbling, sucking, licking. I rubbed her palm against my cheek, kissed her palm lines like I was reading her future, then nibbled her wrist. I moved up her arm, leaving a trail of smooches. Her skin was silk, and I could taste the perfume of her bathwater. Lavender and jasmine filled my nose, mixed with her spicy, sweet scent and my own tart musk.

I nuzzled her armpit, licking the bare skin, then worked my way around her neck. “I am so sorry, Mistress,” I cooed, then licked up to her ear and tongued her lobe. “I’m such a naughty slut.” She sighed. I kissed her forehead, eyebrows, her cute nose. I worked around her lips, down to her chin, and round to the right side of her face.

Then I kissed her lips. Gentle, chaste, brief. Her green eyes shone with passion, pupils wide with desire. Her tongue ran slowly across her lush lips, tasting me. I nuzzled her neck, kissing and sucking, and worked my way down her right arm, loving this limb as thoroughly as I loved her left.

“Lillian,” she purred as I sucked her finger. Her left hand slid through my black hair. “Keep apologizing! I want to know that you are truly sorry.”

I moved down to her left foot, licking the sole, then pressed the soft bottom of her foot against my face. She had such beautiful feet. I smooched up her arch until I sucked her big toe into my lips. I lavished all her dainty toes with my most sincere apology. My poor pussy ached, but that had to wait. My Mistress still wasn’t convinced.

“I am so, very, very sorry,” I groaned as I kissed up her calf. I licked at the crease behind her knee, then smooched down her inner thigh. “I’ll prove it.”

Her spicy, sweet scent threatened to overwhelm me as I drew nearer and nearer to her tight, flushed, and drenched pussy. Her breathing picked up, her perky breasts rising and falling as I neared her heat. I could just start to taste her cream staining her thighs, when I skirted around her pussy and followed the lines of her hips upward.

I reached her left breast and attacked her nipple.

“Oh, fuck!” she gasped, not expecting my sudden, aggressive maneuver. Her nipple was hard between my lips, and I sucked and nibbled and swirled my tongue. “You delicious, naughty slut!”

I switched tits, engulfing the entirety of her nipple and areola. My fingers stroked her skin, tracing the lines of her ribs, then the curve of her pregnant belly. I skirted down her pelvis, into her groin, and stroked the edges of her vulva. She groaned again, hips undulating.

She was ready for my full apology.

I pressed my cheek between her breasts, sliding down across the gentle swell of her belly. Her scent engulfed my nose, strong and full of her need. I nestled between her thighs, staring in awe at the perfection of her pussy. Her lips were just slightly parted, revealing her pink, inner depths, while her clit peaked out of its hood like a shy flower opening for the sun.

“Oh, yes!” she moaned, hips bucking, when I drank her flower’s nectar. “Apologize! Work that tongue in me! You fucking whore!”

I pushed my tongue in deep, sucking in her juices. She screamed, body quivering, as I brought her to orgasm after earth-shaking orgasm. I drank her nectar, sucked on her labia, shoved my fingers deep into her sheath, and nibbled on her clit. I did everything I could to show her the depths of my apology.

“You wonderful, dirty slut!” she moaned. “Eat me, whore! Oh, fuck! Keep making me cum!”

Her words were music to my ears. I was their slut. I lived to pleasure them. Her hands grasped my hair, pulling me tight against her pussy. She gasped and moaned, writhing against my lips. Her face twisted with passion, and her perky, freckled breasts jiggled as she heaved.

“Drink it!” she screamed.

Sharp, acrid urine flooded my mouth. I swallowed the nasty fluids streaming into my lips. Her hands held my face and forced me to drink her piss. It was so humiliating. My cunt let forth another fresh flood of juices that made the itch even more unbearable. I drank and drank; she must have downed a lot of water beforehand.

“Oh, fuck!” she groaned. “You dirty, nasty, pee slut! Oh, shit! Cumming! I’m cumming and pissing in your whore mouth!”

Spicy, sweet juices and piss flooded my mouth as she screamed and bucked, trying to drown me with shame and humiliation. I loved being her pee slut! The piss trickled to a few final squirts as she collapsed back on the bed. Her hands pushed me away, her pussy too sensitive. Panting, I sat on the edge of the bed, licking my lips. Pussy cream covered my cheeks and chin, running down to stain my blouse, and the acrid flavor of piss stained my lips. My own thighs were a flood of my passion, and I burned for a release.

“Get the hairbrush,” she ordered after a moment, standing up and walking to a plush chair with a high back carved of dark mahogany. Her spanking chair. She sat down with grace, her wonderfully perky and freckled tits swaying almost hypnotically. My lips ached to engulf her dusky nipple.

I grabbed the hairbrush and walked to her. “Please discipline me for being such a naughty slut, Mistress,” I cooed.

Smiling, she took it, and I draped myself across her lap like a good slut. My skirt lifted, cool air wafting between my thighs, bringing a minor amount of relief to the fire burning in my pussy.

“I am so sorry, Mistress,” I moaned. “Please, spank me! Teach me my lesson.”

“In time,” she purred. “I’m admiring the beauty of your ass and your shaved cunt. You are absolutely drenched. I bet you can’t wait to cum.”

“I can’t!” I moaned, then wiggled my ass, hoping to entice her.

“Not yet,” she ordered.

I waited, squirming on her lap. My fingers itched to plunge between my thighs or to pinch my aching nipples until I screamed. Fuck, why won’t she just start the spanking. I squeezed my thighs together. Please, please, please spank me. I can’t take this—

Spank!

I jumped; pain stung me. I gasped, “One, thank you, Mistress!”

My ass burned. So wonderful. I had been naughty, and I earned the pleasure of my punishment. The second blow landed on my other cheek. Harder, stinging pain raced through me. I gasped my count, and the third followed and a fourth. I felt so helpless, like when I had been a little girl, and a not so little teenager, pulled over Daddy’s lap. I missed him and all those wonderful times he crawled into my bed. Damn cancer!

Smack! The pain jarred me out of my memory.

“Five, thank you, Mistress!”

I loved it. Smack!

“Six, thank you, Mistress!”

My cunt ached. I writhed on her lap, my clit nudging her thigh. Smack!

“Seven, thank you, Mistress!”

I needed to cum. I needed to cum. Smack!

“Eight, thank you, Mistress!”

Oh, fuck, I need to cum so bad. I rubbed harder with my clit, humping her smooth thigh. Release! I need a fucking release! Smack!

“Nine, thank you, Mistress!”

My ass was completely on fire, and that just made the inferno between my thighs even more unbearable. My nipples were hard, rasping against my blouse, more fuel for my passion. Smack!

“Ten, thank you, Mistress!”

My voice was becoming hoarse with passion. I needed to cum! Smack!

“Eleven, thank you, Mistress!”

The door opened. “Well, well, well. If this isn’t a lovely sight.” I couldn’t see Master, but I could feel his boyish grin.

“Isn’t it?” Mistress asked, stroking my burning ass. Smack!

“Twelve, thank you, Mistress!”

“Her voice is becoming tiresome though. Why don’t you help me out, hun?”

“Naughty filly!” he laughed.

“Horny stallion!” she giggled.

He moved closer. They kissed. Long and noisy, full of their love and passion. Master sat on the bed next to the chair, his strong hand grasped my hair, and yanked my head up. His cock was hard, beading with pre-cum, and hovered right before my lips; I ran my tongue across them in anticipation.

“Master, I’m so sorry!” I moaned.

“Good!” he grinned, his blue eyes burning with lust. Then he roughly shoved my head down, impaling my mouth on his cock.

Smack!

I could only moan around the shaft pistoning roughly into my mouth. Master fucked my face like a wild stallion. His cock shoved painfully down my throat as Mistress rained blow after blow upon my ass. God, I fucking needed to cum so bad. I was their toy, and they were using me to satisfy their own cravings.

I wouldn’t have it any other way. Smack!

“Goddamn, Mare! Keep smacking her ass. Her throat constricts about my cock every time.”

Smack!

“Like that?” Mistress asked.

“Yeah! Keep doing that, Mare!”

Smack!

“Fuck!” Master grunted. Smack! “Fuck, yeah! Keep sucking, slut! Apologize with your dirty mouth!” Smack! “It’s all a filthy, dirty girl like you is good for!” Smack!

I groaned, throat tightening about his spearing cock. I was their filthy, dirty slut, and reveled in it! I humped faster against Mistress’s thigh. I needed to cum so bad. I would have done anything to get my release. Master grunted faster and faster, both hands holding my head in place as he fucked my mouth with wild abadonment.

“Fucking slut!” he grunted. Smack! “Oh, fuck!”

“Cum…” Smack! “…in…” Smack! “…her…” Smack! “…naughty…” Smack! “…mouth…” Smack! “…Mark!” Smack!

He did. My mouth filled to the brim with his wonderful spunk. Thick and salty. I swallowed, as Mistress kept spanking me. I felt like such a dirty girl. I loved it! Master gave one last grunt as one last blast of cum filled my lips, then he let go of my head.

His cock popped out; I coughed, gasping for breath. A drop of cum fell onto the floor. What a waste. “Thank you, Master, for your cum.”

“You’re welcome. What do you say, Mare, has she apologized enough?”

Smack!

She landed that last blow right on my cunt. I screamed and exploded. I bucked and moaned and yelled my passion. My innards contracted, waves of electric fire rushed through me. I thrashed so hard I slid off her lap, and fell into a quivering ball on the floor.

I had finally cum, and it was glorious. Passion kept rolling through my body, crashing into the pain of my throbbing ass, and forming a monstrous storm of rapture. I quivered, trembled, and shook. I reveled in it. This was the sort of pleasure a woman could only experience when she gave in to her inner slut! When the pleasure receded, I lay almost in a stupor, a smile playing on my lips.

“My naughty filly!” groaned Master as my awareness of the world came slowly back.

The bedsprings squeaked; flesh slapped together.

“I love riding my horny stallion!”

I stood up on woozy legs. Mistress rode him hard. They gazed into each other’s eyes, lost in their love and passion. I was merely their foreplay. And I wouldn’t have it any other way! I strolled to the door, a smile painted on my face and fire burning on my ass.

I was their slut.

Violet and April waited in the main room of their suite, grins on their faces. Both were dressed as naughty schoolgirls: April in a blue-and-purple tartan skirt and Violet in a pink-and-black, and the naughty slut didn’t even wear a top, just a matching tie dangling between her tiny tits reaching to the cute swell of her pregnant stomach.

“So are we still going out tonight?” April asked eagerly.

“Yeah?” muttered Violet. She didn’t seem as enthusiastic as her girlfriend.

“Hell, yeah!” I couldn’t wait to try out a ‘cum-rum’. “I know just the bar!” I had spent the afternoon making phone calls, making sure the right people would be there.

When Master and Mistress were caught up with each other, a slut had to find other ways to amuse herself. I hooked an arm around each of them. We were going to have a lot of fun tonight!

Chapter 49: The Victors’ Reward

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Chapter 49: The Victors’ Rewards

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2013, 2014


Story Codes: Hermaphrodite/Female, Male/Female, Female/Female, Male/Females, Mind Control, Magic, Lactation, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Wedded Lust, Wife, Group Sex

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 48.



Who were the Patriots? Who wrote their Manifesto? After the ravages of the Demon Wars, only speculation was left behind. The only clue that had survived was a paper that had purportedly been found in a safety deposit box in Philadelphia. On this paper were thirty-seven names, the supposed roster of the Patriots, and at the head of the list was the name Noel Heinrich. Noel had been an FBI Agent that had briefly fallen into the Tyrants’ powers, one of the many women forced to be their sex-slave. No records survived to indicate what Noel’s fate was after parting ways with the Tyrants in June of 2013.

–excerpt from ‘The History of the Tyrants’ Theocracy’, by Tina Allard

Thursday, May 6th, 2014 – Samnag Soun – Qumran

My words trailed off as Alison hung up abruptly. I hoped she would be all right. I liked Alison. Besides being a great fuck, there was an honest enthusiasm about the slut.

“What a bitch,” Candy muttered, taking the satphone from me. “She should show you more respect, Sam.”

“I think it was a little intense where she was,” I shrugged, turning back to the black, iron wall we uncovered beyond the red stone. It was a Matmown. Excitement bubbled in me as the Palestinian laborers excavated it out, searching for the door. Something important must be buried here!

“Holy Vizier,” a laborer bowed; he wore a leather choker about his neck.

The worship of Mark and Mary was spreading, and the Muslim world was plunged into as much chaos, or even more, as the Christian world . Every day more and more Muslims abandoned their faith, and violence abounded in the Middle East as the two sides clashed. Every day suicide bombers killed dozens. The laborers were watched carefully by a squad of Rangers bound to Mark. We had vetted the laborers, they all were worshipers of Mark, but the Patriots, one of Lilith’s daughters, or a fundamentalist could have infiltrated the laborers to try and harm us.

“Yes?” I asked.

“We found the door,” he answered.

Excitement bubbled through me, set my hands trembling, as I followed the man along the side of the half-buried wall to a door that had been dug out. “You are all dismissed for the day,” I told the laborer. “Candy will pay you.”

“Of course, Holy Vizier,” he bowed.

I forced myself to wait until the laborers were all gone, standing before the iron door. Candy slipped into the excavation, a grin plastered on her face, and she enthusiastically hugged and kissed me. I ran my hand through her dyed hair, half-blue and half-pink, as we kissed. I was excited, my cock hard as Candy wiggled against me. But that could wait.

“Let’s open it!” I exclaimed.

A pair of Rangers pried the door open with crowbars, the metal hinges protesting. It smelled like rust inside, and I pulled out my flashlight, shining the bright, LED light around it. There was a plinth, and an unrolled scroll resting atop it. It looked like papyrus, and I could see faded, brown writing on it. I walked forward, examining the scroll without touching it. Candy told the Rangers to wait outside, then had them close the door.

“Is it what we need?” Candy asked, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet.

“It’s written in Aramaic,” I answered, starting to translate as I read. “Its style reminds me of the Magicks of the Witch of Endor.”

“Mary says our copy is incomplete,” Candy pointed out. “And look at the scroll, the right side is torn, but the left side is more even.”

She was right. “This is the end of a scroll. They used to write books on long rolls of papyrus or parchment. This looks like the final passages of a book.” I bent down and found Lucifer’s name written, and I smiled. “This is it!”

Candy squealed in excitement, throwing her arms around my neck, and kissed me exuberantly. Very exuberantly! Her lips hot, and her tongue lithe; she tasted sweet, and my cock ached for her as she ground her crotch against me. Her fingers fumbled at the loose, canvas pants I wore, popping the button off so she could snake her hand in and grasp my hardening cock. Our six month’s in Israel, perusing through dried texts, had left little time for fooling around. The dam on my lust broke; we no longer needed to deny ourselves. Drunk on our success, I let the flashlight drop to the floor, its light waving wildly about the dark, metal room as it skittered across the floor.

“Oh, Sam,” she husked, nibbling at my neck. “I need you in me! I’m so horny!”

I found the button for her pants, unsnapped it, and struggled to push them off her hips. She wiggled, helping me, and my hands found her naked ass; I gave her soft cheeks a squeeze. I burned to stick my cock in her, and to feel her tight, wet tunnel squeezing on my shaft. Her pants were tangled around her feet, stuck on her hiking boots.

“I need to be in you,” I moaned.

“Let me get my boots off,” Candy said, pulling away and letting go of my cock.

“No, get on your knees.”

“Umm, that sounds fun,” she giggled, kneeling on the hard metal floor. I knelt behind her, ignoring the hard metal, and slapped her ass. She squealed, looking back at me, her beautiful face lit on the right side by the flashlight. “Fuck me, Sam. Make me your bitch!”

I drove into her wet cunt, groaning loudly. “You are my bitch!” I groaned. “Mark gave you to me!”

“Yes, yes!” she panted. “Your bitch! I love it! I love being yours!”

I groaned, enjoying the feel of her cunt gripping my cock as I plowed in and out of her. I slapped her ass; she cooed loudly, and thrust her hips back into me. Her passion grew, and she wildly tossed her multicolored hair about.

“Fuck your bitch!” she moaned over and over. “Make me howl! Make me cum! Yes, yes, yes! Fuck, yes!” Her cunt convulsed about my cock, and she threw back her head and yelled as loud as possible as her powerful orgasm exploded through her.

I smacked her ass. “Howl bitch!” I groaned. “Keep squeezing your cunt, bitch. Make me cum!”

“I’ll make you explode!” Candy husked, rolling her hips and clamping down with her cunt. “Fill me up with your cum! Yes, yes, I’ll drain you dry!”

Our flesh slapped together, my ovaries boiling with passion. I gripped her hips, and pounded her cunt, driving my cock as hard as I could into her depths. I needed to cum! I needed to release that pressure, and spill my girl-cum inside my sweet Candy. My body tensed as my eruption drew closer and closer, and then every nerve in my body exploded, and I flooded my little bitch’s cunt.

“Oh, fuck, I’m cumming again!” Candy cried, her body collapsing onto the iron floor as she quivered; a flood of my cum and hers flowed from her cunt, leaking white onto the black metal. She rolled onto her back and reached up, pulling me down and kissed me on the lips. “Mmmh, that was great,” she purred. “I needed that so bad.”

“So did I,” I sighed, resting my head on her full breasts beneath her tight t-shirt. “I love you,” I whispered sleepily.

I felt her body tense. “Really?” she asked.

I didn’t mean to say it, but I looked her in the eyes, stroked her face. “Yeah, I guess I do. Ever since France.”

She smiled, “I love you, too.”

Our kiss was spectacular, fireworks exploding between our lips, and I let myself get lost in her soft touches. I kissed every inch of her face from her chin up to her brow, getting her cute little nose in the process, then I captured her sweet lips again. So wonderful, so soft. I stroked her pale cheek with my dark finger.

“Umm, Sam,” Candy said, sounding a little embarrassed as she broke our soulful kiss, “my ass is freezing. This floor is kinda cold.”

I laughed and slipped off of her, pulling up my pants after letting my dick shrink back into a little clit. Candy stood up and wiggled her tight pants over her hips. I retrieved the flashlight, and went back to the scroll.

“Why do you follow his orders?” Candy asked suddenly, hugging me from behind.

“Whose orders?” I asked, not really paying attention as I translated the text in my head.

“Mark’s!” There was so much heat in her voice.

“Why wouldn’t I follow his orders, I’m his vizier.”

Candy turned me about. “You could be so much more.” She grasped my hands, pulling them up to her lips and gently kissing them. “Mark would be nothing without you. You could make a deal with Lucifer and take his place. Or you can make one with another demon.”

I frowned at her. “But I don’t want to,” I said.

“Are you sure you’re content with being his errand bitch?”

I swallowed, staring into her eyes. Was I content following his orders, doing all the hard work for him? I felt off-balance, not sure what to say. “Grab the scroll case,” I told her.

“Think about it,” she whispered, stroking my hands. “You could be so amazing. I could be your Mary, standing at your side, guiding you to the greatness due you.”

“Just grab the scroll case,” I told her, my thoughts whirling. Could I betray Mark? Could I have his power? Did I even want his power? Candy dug around in her satchel, and found the scroll case, a tube of plastic, and hurried over.

What should I do?

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

Mark – The Mansion

Mary and I waited on the porch as Leah pulled the limo into the unfinished driveway, bringing Alison and Desiree home. Behind them, several SUV’s followed, carrying their men. While we were at the Church this morning presenting our daughter Chase to our followers, Alison and Desiree were leading their troops against the Patriots’ stronghold. Fifteen Patriots dead, and their army of golems destroyed.

I shuddered to think what would have happened if they hadn’t stumbled upon their stronghold.

The limo pulled up, and Leah hopped out, looking quite fetching in her slutty chauffeur’s outfit. Two maids walked up; one opened the limo’s door, bowing, while the other helped a tired looking Desiree out of the vehicle. Our Latina slut was dressed in tan camo pants and a tan tank top. A smile lit up her face when she saw us. Desiree turned and helped Alison out. Her pink hair was dirty. No, her entire body was covered in reddish dust, and there was a bandage on her ass and another wrapped around her ankle. She had to hop about, leaning on Desiree, and, despite the pain, she beamed at us.

“Master, Mistress!” she shouted.

“Oh, my poor, little slut,” Mary cried out, rushing to Alison and hugging her tightly. The teen was engulfed in scarlet light as Mary healed her.

“Thank you, Mistress,” she sighed in relief, “the shrapnel in my ass was killing me.”

“Good thing mi Reina healed your ass, it lost a lot of its beauty with an inch of metal sticking out of it,” Desiree teased.

Alison stuck her tongue out at her wife. “I was going to let you kiss it better, but now I’m not.”

Desiree laughed, and kissed her wife on the lips. “Liar, I bet you just want me to kiss your ass right now.”

Alison giggled, “I do. Always.”

Their soldiers were getting out of their SUV’s, all of them experienced, hard-bitten men from various special forces. They had been hunting down Warlocks across the country for the last six months. The nineteen men—one had fallen today—lined up in formation and saluted me.

“Good job, men,” I congratulated them, saluting back. “You did great work today.”

“Thank you, my Lord,” a Sergeant said, a smile creasing his serious face.

I held out my hand and shook with each of them. “Enjoy yourselves tonight,” I told them. “We have rooms for you in the mansion. Your families are on the way, and feel free to avail yourself of the staff; all of the maids have been instructed to be extra friendly.”

The Sergeant’s eye drifted to one of the maids waiting on the porch. “That sounds great, my Lord.”

I nodded, and walked over to my wife and our two sluts. “Master,” Alison exclaimed, and threw her arms around me and kissed me exuberantly. She was my first slut, the only one that asked to be my slut, and I missed her these last six months. But Desiree needed to hunt down the Warlocks, and Alison needed to help her. I pulled Desiree to me and kissed her on the lips.

“My first two sluts,” I sighed, an arm around each of them. “You two were amazing today. Let’s get you cleaned up, and then you get to spend the night with me and Mary.”

“Korina is going to watch Chase,” Mary smiled. “We’ll have all night to give you your reward.”

Alison giggled wickedly. “Umm, all night. I can think of a few things to do.”

Mary and I laughed, and led our sluts inside. All the other sluts appeared to hug Desiree and Alison, and give them kisses. “We’ve missed you,” Korina gently said, holding Silas in one arm and Chase in the other.

“At least that amazing tongue,” Lillian quipped, then waggled her tongue at Alison between two fingers, mimicking eating out a cunt. Alison pursed her lips, blowing her a kiss. Lillian laughed, then fell silent when her eyes landed on the soldiers entering after us, and they lit up with lust. “Umm, at least you brought a few rugged men to entertain me.”

We led our sluts deeper into the house, to our private suite in the east wing. Two bodyguards were posted at the entrance, and I paused to give them both a kiss and to grope their breasts. Both guards were beaming happily after my affections. In our spacious bathroom, Mary bent down and started the jacuzzi bathtub, warm water quickly filling it up.

“You’ll love it,” Mary purred. “The jets are placed just right.”

Alison gave my wife a wicked grin. “A special order then, Mistress?”

“Absolutely,” Mary giggled. “Now strip, and dump your clothes in the hamper. Lets wash all that dirt off you. You’re quite the mess, Alison.”

“It’s hard to stay clean when a five-hundred-pound clay man is chasing after you,” Alison quipped. “I don’t know how Desiree stayed so pristine.”

“I watched where I was stepping,” Desiree answered. “My clumsy Sirenita couldn’t resist stepping into a rabbit hole and breaking her ankle.”

Alison gave an indignant gasp. “I was hoping it would lead to wonderland so I could escape those monstrosities.”

“And leave me behind,” Desiree pouted.

Alison grabbed her wife’s tank top, and pulled it off to expose her large breasts. She gave them a squeeze, saying, “All you had to do was flash these delicious melons at them, and they would have been your little slaves.”

“Are you saying my breasts have magic powers?”

Alison nuzzled her face into them. “Absolutely. They’ve enchanted me from the beginning.”

“I don’t know,” I said, eyeing my wife as she pulled her dress off, her perky tits coming into view. “I would say Mary’s stacks up nicely.” I copied Alison, and nuzzled my face into my wife’s breasts.

“Mistress has an excellent pair of breasts,” Alison proclaimed, rubbing her cheek on one of Desiree’s nipples.

Mary eyed Alison, then reached out and fingered one of the slut’s pierced nipples that topped her round breasts. “You aren’t half bad.”

“I couldn’t agree more, mi Reina,” Desiree purred. “Especially with her piercings.” Desiree played with the other nipple; Alison had a huge grin on her face.

“The two women I love most are playing with my tits, what could be better?” Alison asked, kissing Mary’s then Desiree’s lips.

“What am I, a third wheel?” I asked.

“Wouldn’t that be a fourth wheel?” Mary asked, nuzzling Alison’s neck.

“Ohh, Master could stick that lovely cock of his into my cunt. That would make this better!” Alison exclaimed.

“After you’re washed,” Mary told her, then slapped her rear. “Get your filthy ass in the jacuzzi!”

“Yes, Mistress,” Alison smiled, then sighed as she sank down into the warm water. Mary hit the jets and Alison’s eyes widened. “Oh, fuck! Desiree, you have got to feel this!”

Mary added some lavender-scented bath oils as Desiree slipped into the tub, and moaned, “Ohh, that’s lovely. The jets are on the seat, shooting right inside me.”

“Mary loves them,” I said. “She spent half her pregnancy in there.”

“That was for my back and ankles,” Mary protested, slipping in. “The jets were just a bonus.”

The warm water felt great as I slid in after my wife, settling down between Desiree and Alison, and not sitting on one of the jets. It just felt weird. Mary laid her head on Desiree’s shoulder, and the slut put her arm around my wife as Alison cuddled up to me. The teen’s hand found my cock beneath the water, slowly jerking me off.

“Thank you,” Mary whispered to Desiree.

“For what, mi Reina?”

“They were going to attack the Church,” Mary answered. “You two may have saved our daughter’s life, and all those other innocent people.”

“We were lucky,” Alison sighed. “If it wasn’t for Sam and her dowsing pendulum…”

Desiree shifted, “How is she?”

“She’s flying back, actually.” I said carefully; Alison stiffened for a moment in my arms, recognizing the significance of that. It wasn’t safe to say any more outside of the Matmown; anyone could be listening—Lucifer, Lilith, some other Power. We only had one hope, and it needed to be carefully protected.

“She has a nice cock,” Alison cooed, nuzzling at my neck.

“As nice as mine?”

“No, Master,” Alison purred, squeezing my dick hard as she stroked me. “No-one’s is.”

My lips found Alison’s, her pierced tongue slipping eagerly into my mouth, exploring me like a curious kitten. My hands found her breasts, giving them a firm squeeze. Her hand stroked faster on my shaft, the water splashing. But I needed more than her hand; I wanted to be inside her, to know my beautiful slut in the most intimate way possible.

“Ohh, Master,” she groaned as I pulled her onto my lap; her cunt impaled upon my dick.

I leaned back, relaxing against the side of the Jacuzzi, and watched her breasts bob as she slowly rode my cock. Beside me, Mary sat on Desiree’s lap, kissing her furiously as Desiree’s hand played between my wife’s thighs.

“Aren’t they beautiful,” Alison purred in my ear as she slid her greased cunt up and down on my cock, working me like a jackhammer. “My wife is going to make Mistress explode.”

I gave her tit a squeeze, moaning, “You’re going to make me explode!”

“Good,” she said with a satisfied smile. “That’s the point. Explode in me, Master! It’s what my cunt was made for! It’s yours!”

Mary writhed like a flower in the wind as Desiree’s fingers worked inside her. Mary broke the kiss, moaning loudly, “You delicious slut! Make me cum! Oh, fuck!” My wife buried her face into our Latina slut’s neck, and sucked hard, adding a hickey to the one Desiree already had.

“Cum for me!” Desiree hissed. “My beautiful Goddess! ¡Córrete para mi, mi Reina!”

Alison’s hungry mouth found mine, and I explored her mouth, enjoying the hard stud of her piercing rubbing against me. Her hips bucked, her cunt squeezed. I groaned my passion, and exploded into her cunt—my beautiful Alison’s cum-hungry cunt. She gasped, moaning as I fed her my seed, and she shuddered as her ecstasy burst within her.

“Oh, Master,” she sighed, settling her weight on me, and leaning her head against my shoulder.

We watched Desiree finger Mary to a violent cum, my wife shuddering so hard that she slipped off Desiree’s lap and slid into the middle of the jacuzzi. When she broached the surface, she was grinning, the hard tips of her breasts just appearing above the rippling surface; dark red that flashed amid the frothy white.

“You didn’t cum, Desiree,” I said.

She smiled. “Oh, I came! The jets took care of me.”

“Oh, Master, can we get one for our room?” Alison asked me, bouncing on my cock, her cunt squeezing life back into my shaft.

“Sure,” I told her as she writhed her hips.

Desiree pinched Alison’s ass, “Stop hogging his cock. We’re supposed to share everything.”

“Fine,” Alison pouted, pulling her cunt off my cock.

“Sit on the edge of the jacuzzi,” Mary said, “and I’ll clean all that cum out of your pussy.”

Alison practically leapt out of the jacuzzi, spreading her legs and showing off her tight slit that oozed white cum. Mary buried her face in the slut’s snatch, and the teen leaned back, moaning loudly, her breasts heaving, beads of water running across those beautiful orbs. Desiree turned away from me, her beautiful ass in my face for a moment before she sat down on my lap, on my cock, and moaned as she impaled herself upon me.

“Mi Rey,” she sighed happily.

I reached around her and found her heavy breasts; I squeezed them, enjoying their firm plumpness as Desiree slowly pumped her ass on me. I kissed her nut-brown shoulder, pushing her wet hair out of the way. Her cunt squeezed and relaxed on my cock, stoking my fires skillfully as I played with her nipples.

“Let me taste you, Mistress,” Alison begged.

Mary’s face came up sticky, a smile on her lips. “I thought you’d never ask, slut.”

She quickly straddled Alison’s face; the slut’s pink tongue glinted silver as she swiped it through my wife’s cunt. Mary shuddered in delight, then bent down and buried her face into the teen’s snatch, and the two noisily pleasured each other.

I nibbled on Desiree’s ears as she slowly made love to me. She did most of the work by squeezing her cunt on my cock, only sliding her pussy up an inch or two on my shaft. I dipped one of my hands into the water, slid down her flat stomach, and found her hard clit. Her cunt squeezed harder on my dick as I fingered her little nub, her breath quickening.

“Umm, that’s wonderful, mi Rey,” she sighed. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, slut,” I whispered into her ear. “You and your delightful wife.”

Mary raised her face from Alison’s cunt. “What about me?”

“I love you, too, Mare,” I answered. “My naughty filly.”

“I know you love me, Mark,” Mary sighed in exasperation, rolling her eyes. “I was talking to Desiree.”

“Of course I love mi Reina,” Desiree answered. “How could I not love you?”

Mary buried her face back into Alison’s cunt, and the slut’s hands gripped my wife’s plump ass, digging into her cheeks as she shuddered in pleasure beneath my wife’s assault. A muffled moan escaped the slut’s lips as she munched on my wife’s muff. It was so hot; I loved watching two women sixty-nining.

“Here it comes, Desiree,” I groaned, and then I shot my load into Desiree’s cunt.

“Ohh, that felt like a big one mi Rey,” she purred, her cunt still squeezing my cock as my finger diddled her clit.

I rubbed her clit faster and harder, feeling the slut’s cunt squeeze tight on my cock as she fidgeted. Her breathing grew faster, her moans rising in pitch, then she bent over as the pleasure spasmed through her body, and screamed wordlessly.

We watched our wives pleasure each other, driving each other to cum over and over, while Desiree rode my cock one more time, and we shared another cum. Mary and Alison were lost to their pleasures, and rolled about on the tiled floor, clutching each other, until they collapsed in a tangle of quivering limbs. After a minute of heavy breathing, they slipped back into the tub. Mary cuddled against me, and Alison against Desiree. I kissed my wife, and enjoyed the taste of Alison’s honey on her lips.

We relaxed in the jacuzzi for another half hour; some maids brought champagne for the sluts and me, and an iced tea for Mary—she was nursing, and the alcohol would get into her breast milk. We enjoyed our cold, refreshing drinks and hot, relaxing water. The maids who served our drinks disrobed: a curvy brunette named Abigail, a sultry Hindu woman named Karishma, a MILF with green eyes named Pearl, and a petite Japanese girl named Tomoyo, and they began to bathe us. Alison enjoyed Abigail’s soapy, pillowy tits massaging her back, while Mary laid down on the tiles and let Tomoyo writhe her entire soapy body atop her. I found the way Desiree’s nut-brown skin and Karishma’s red-brown skin rubbing together, covered in frothy soap, was hypnotic as Pearl washed my cock with her soapy breasts.

“Master, you sure know how to live,” Alison purred after we all had been washed.

“I’m honored you enjoyed it,” Abigail smiled to Alison as she rubbed a terry-cloth towel across the slut’s body. “You tasted heavenly.”

Pearl was drying me off, my cum still staining her big tits. Mary was already slipping into the bedroom, trailed by Desiree. Alison pulled away before Abigail could quite finish drying her, eager for some more fun, a broad smile on her lips. I was glad both my sluts were enjoying themselves; they had been so dour the last few times we had actually seen them. They had earned some happiness.

“You did great, sluts,” I praised the maids, and they all curtsied, despite being nude; they all looked both simultaneously erotic and comical as they held up imaginary skirts. “We’ll want dinner in an hour.”

“Of course, Master,” Pearl murmured. She was the chief maid, and barked orders at the other three. The maids scurried off, Abigail and Tomoyo holding hands.

Mary was reclined on our bed, massaging her breasts. “Are you okay, mi Reina?”

“Just filling up,” my wife answered. “I need to relieve the pressure. Any volunteers?” Mary’s smile was arched and naughty; Alison practically threw herself on the bed, grabbed a nipple with her mouth, and nursed.

Desiree stretched out on the other side, teased Mary’s dusky-red nipple, and a droplet of white milk appeared. Desiree’s tongue gently lapped up the drop. She cooed in pleasure, “It’s so sweet.”

“There’s plenty more,” Mary said, stroking her damp hair.

“Ohmygod!” Alison squealed, sounding like the teenager she is. “Ohmygod, ohmygod, it’s delicious, Mistress!” Then she buried her mouth back into Mary’s tit, and I could hear her sucking hungrily as I watched.

Desiree latched onto the other nipple, sucking gracefully as her wife pigged out on the other tit. Alison’s shapely ass wiggled about as she sucked noisily at my wife’s breast, her brown asshole winking at me between her pale cheeks. It beckoned to me.

I answered its call, kneeling behind Alison. My hands rubbed through her pussy, coating my fingers with her sticky honey, and smeared them on my cock. I gathered more juices, and shoved them into her tight ass. Alison glanced back at me, and smiled with milky lips, before diving back into her feast.

“Fuck the slut’s ass,” Mary cooed.

I slid home into Alison’s tight ass; the little slut writhed her hips, and squeezed down on my cock. I started to pump slowly, reveling in the feel of her hot depths, my balls gently slapping against her taint.

Mary emerald eyes flashed at me as pleasure radiated through her body, shifting about as if she lay on hot coals, unable to stay still for long. “Oh, God!” she gasped. “My pussy is so wet! I need something! Touch me, lick me, anything! I’m on fire!”

Desiree smiled, whispered, “I haven’t tasted mi Reina’s beautiful pussy tonight.”

“Do it!” Mary hissed. “Eat me out!”

Desiree kissed down my wife’s lush body, licking her belly button, before she reached the fiery heart Mary styled her pubic hair into. Desiree descended lower, finding Mary’s pink flower, and drank deeply from her nectar. The effect on my wife was electric: her back arched, and she moaned her orgasm loudly. Our slut drank her pussy juices as eagerly as she had drunk her breast milk.

Alison’s ass was tight and hot as I reamed her, my eyes going back and forth from the teen’s lips eagerly nursing at my wife’s breast, to my other slut eagerly nursing at Mary’s cunt. Then Desiree latched onto my wife’s little clit, and sucked hard. My wife shook as a second orgasm crashed through her.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Mary gasped. “You filthy sluts! I love you both!”

I picked up the speed, pounding Alison’s ass harder, my eyes feasting on the tableau laid out before me. Alison moaned about Mary’s nipple, slamming her ass against my thrusts. Mary’s hand reached out, and her fingers brushed my balls as she searched for Alison’s cunt. When she thrust them in, the teen tightened her ass on my dick, and I could feel my wife’s questing fingers as she explored the slut’s tunnel.

Mary’s fingers found the right spot; Alison exploded like a firework, her ass clenching down so tight it became hard to thrust my cock inside her. The pleasure she gave me was intense, stoking the fire in my balls as I reamed her vice-like ass. I slammed two more times into her, then groaned as I spilled my cum inside her bowels.

I slapped Alison’s ass, saying, “Good fuck.”

“Thank you, Master,” she sighed.

I crawled to the other side of Mary, and snuggled up against my wife. She was shuddering in pleasure, Desiree’s tongue sending her into orgasm after orgasm. I kissed her lips, then bent down and sucked her nipple into my mouth. I loved her milk, so warm and sweet as it filled my mouth. Mary’s hand wrapped around my head, stroking my face as she moaned in delight.

“I love you, Mark,” she whispered as I nursed, her hands stroking my face.

I stopped nursing, and gave my wife a milk-filled kiss. “Love you,” I whispered, then went back to enjoying her breasts.

When dinner came, Mary’s breasts had been drained by the three of us, and the two sluts were licking my cock clean of Alison’s ass while Mary cuddled up beside me, happily exhausted from her multiple orgasms.

“Thank you, Master,” Alison smiled, my cum dripping from her face. “This has been the best night we’ve had in forever.”

Desiree nodded happily. “It’s always good to spend time with your family.”

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

Wednesday, July 16th, 2014 – Fiona Cavanagh – The Ruins of Babylon, Hillah, Iraq

We watched Abby as she examined the ruins, crumbling white walls jutting out of the yellow-white sand. It was night, the air cool after the blistering heat of the day. Cars passed on the nearby highway and, off in the distance, sirens could be heard. Probably another suicide bombing. The Muslims were always clashing with the Miraclists in the Middle East. Men fighting over their stupid differences, while women were caught in-between.

Abby sniffed at the air, moving with a sinuous grace. She was a Dabbat, a serpent-like daughter of Lilith with affinity for the earth. She could move rocks with her mind, using them as weapons, or burrow her body quickly through dirt and stone. She was brown-skinned, her eyes yellow and slitted like a serpent’s, and there was absolutely no hair on the woman—not on her head and none between her legs. It lent her an exotic appeal, sparking arousal in me as she gracefully moved across the earth.

“This is the place,” she hissed, her voice sibilant, then she dived into the sand and smoothly disappeared in a cloud of brown dust. This was the seventh ruin in the Middle East we’ve been to over the last six months. Whatever it was that we searched for, Lilith had only confided in Abby.

“Come wait in the tent,” Thamina called.

I glanced back and saw my wife peering out of the small pup tent she had erected, her naked breasts shining in the moonlight. I smiled and quickly moved to the tent—Abby did say it would take a while. And what better way to pass the time?

Thamina attacked me when I entered the tent, her mouth hot as she pulled me to the sleeping bag, the air mattress crinkling beneath us. “Hmm, someone’s horny, eh, Mina?”

“Get that shirt off, husband,” my wife husked.

She insisted on calling me husband, even though I was a woman. Well, mostly a woman; I could transform my clit into a cock, and that made me the man in our marriage as far as Thamina was concerned. She still clung to the prejudices of her Muslim upbringing; to her, it wasn’t quite homosexuality if she pretended I was the ‘man’.

Thamina attacked my breasts the moment my shirt was off, sucking my hard nipples into her lips, forcing me to lie down on a rolled out sleeping bag. The moonlight glowed weakly through the fabric, and I noticed dark symbols drawn on the inside. Why would Thamina ward our tent? My question was lost as her teeth nibbled lightly on my breast; I moaned loudly.

Thamina suddenly released my breast, spun about and straddled my face, her furry cunt descending to my lips, and my tongue eagerly found her slit. She tasted tangy and sweet, a delicious combination; I explored her flower, probing my tongue into every delicate, pink fold. Her black down tickled my lips; Mark made us shave our cunts, but we let them grow out. Men lust after youth, and delight in a smooth pussy. But we were women, and we enjoyed each other’s natural beauty.

“My beautiful husband,” Thamina purred as she shoved my pants roughly down my legs and buried her face in my red-furred snatch.

I moaned into her pussy as she started licking mine. Sometimes Thamina wanted my cock, and other nights she wanted to love me when I was all woman. I didn’t care; so long as she loved me I was happy with her choice. Her tongue pushed into my hole, fucking me as her chin bumped my clit, sending jolts of pleasure through me. Goddess, I was going to cum fast the way the vixen was working my pussy.

Well, two could play that game.

My mouth found her clit, sucking her little bud into my lips as my nose buried into her slit, every breath filled with her enchanting aroma. Thamina moaned in pleasure into my pussy, and then I was flooded with her juices, thick and sticky, as they covered my face. I drank them down, savoring her flavor. She slipped a finger inside me, wiggling it about my tight tunnel. I exploded. I bucked beneath my wife, screaming my pleasure into the night air.

When I opened my eyes, coming off my wonderful orgasm, I realized my wife had flipped around, her lips at my ears. “We need to talk quietly,” she whispered.

I tensed. “About what?”

“Do you think we made the right decision?”

“What, to come out to the ruins of Baghdad and find the dagger for Lilith?” I asked, foreboding filling my heart and causing it to beat faster.

“No, serving Lilith.”

“What choice did we have?” I asked her. “She’s protecting us from Mark.”

“Maybe,” Thamina said. “But, what about what she’s done? My daughter helped to kill billions.”

“Men,” I said dismissively, then I saw the hurt in Thamina’s eyes, the guilt.

“Humans, like us,” Thamina countered. How had I never seen the wounds in her soul?

I frowned. “I thought you hated men. That’s why you volunteered to lead the searches.” Many women in Seattle foolishly tried to hide their men, whether they were their husbands, sons, brothers, fathers, or even complete strangers. Thamina lead the search, trying to uncover the women who hid the vermin and smuggled them out of the city.

“You ever wonder why I don’t find that many men?” she asked.

I didn’t want to know the answer.

“I help them to escape. Only a few get captured, sacrifices to keep Lilith placated.” She kissed my fingers. “I just couldn’t sit by and do nothing. It’s the right thing to do.”

“I guess,” I frowned. It was easy to think of men as nothing but animals, creatures not worthy of compassion or mercy.

“I think we chose the wrong side, Fiona.”

“And Mark’s the right side? He made us his slaves?” I demanded, my voice rising in anger.

“Shush, Abby may be listening,” Thamina cautioned. “And Mark never killed anyone.”

“He killed plenty when he attacked us last November.”

“We attacked him first. Lilith sent her Dimme to kill him, and Luka to kill his Vizier. Lilith started this war and…” She took a breath. “And she can’t possibly win. Half the world follows them! He has the US Military under his control!” Whatever levy holding back her doubts had broken, and her words spilled out like a hissing flood. “And not to mention the European Militaries! We’re outnumbered and outmatched. He has nukes, cruise missiles, predator drones, and who knows what else! She’s deluded herself into thinking she can win!”

“You want us to side with Mark, is that it?” I couldn’t hide the disgust in my voice.

“No, I want us to survive.” She wrapped her arms tight about me. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” I told her. “ I can understand helping the men to escape, but we can’t betray our Goddess.”

“I’ll follow you, husband, if you want to stay. But please think about it. Are you really okay with what Lilith is doing?”

Was I okay with it? I thought I was, but I could see the guilt in Thamina’s eyes. Had she been hiding this from me this entire time? Hurt filled me; my wife didn’t share her feelings with me. I looked up at the tent ceiling, my mind whirling, and I saw her symbols. She had warded the tent, she’s afraid of being overheard, of Lilith finding out about her doubts. I hugged my wife tight.

I shivered. What would Lilith do if she found out?

Kill us both.

Fear gripped my heart; what the hell had we gotten ourselves into?

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

Thursday, July 17th, 2014 – Mark Glassner – The Mansion

“It’s aney, Alison,” Sam said, making a guttural A sound. “It’s a glottal stop, like the pause between ‘oh-oh’. Aney laged helel ben shakar ’em penyenh zeh. Kevhev yheyh mevgebl.” Sam made the Hebrew sound so easy.

“Why can’t we just use English,” Alison complained. “Summoning rituals work in English.”

“Lucifer will be hard enough to trap; it has to be in Hebrew,” Sam admonished. “And it has to be perfectly. If any of you do not pronounce it exactly right, the spell will not be strong enough to bind him and it’ll backfire, destroying the diamond.”

We were practicing the trap to bind Lucifer, and a great deal of progress had been made in the two months since Sam returned. All the pieces were ready: a golden rod topped with a diamond the size of my fist and carved with Hebrew words, and five brass rods tipped with smaller diamonds, and also carved with Hebrew. Mary would be the focus, holding the gold rod, and five others would wield the brass rods, stand in a circle about Lucifer and Mary, and chant Sam’s phrase. My job would be to fight Lucifer, and keep him contained in the circle long enough for the ritual to be cast. Then he would be trapped in the diamond atop the gold staff.

The five who would wield the brass rods were: Sam, Candy, Alison, Desiree, and Jessica. Sam and Candy were the best at Hebrew—Candy had spent the last year learning it from Sam—and Alison and Desiree had the most experience in combat. Out of the rest of the sluts, Jessica was the most unflappable. Xiu, Korina, Lillian, Violet, April, and Willow were also learning the ritual. They would be backups if anything should happen to one of the primaries. I had learned in the last year that things happened in combat—people would get hurt or could die.

We had to be ready to perform the ritual if it was ever necessary to take out Lilith. In a perfect world, she would be content with Seattle, and Lucifer would never be unleashed—but this wasn’t a perfect world. It was far from it. Killing Lilith would only be an absolute last resort. If it came to conflict between us again—and it would, I could feel it in my gut—we aimed to capture her. So once a week, we would meet in the Matmown until all the sluts could say the phrase flawlessly. They were getting better.

“Again,” Sam said, walking around the Matmown in the basement of our mansion, listening to Mary and each of the sluts as they struggled to say the Hebrew words. Hebrew had a number of sounds that were not found in English, and were hard to learn properly. Particularly the letter aleph, the glottal stop that sounded like a cut off A.

Sam was a patient teacher, a smile on her round face as she corrected Mary and the sluts’ pronunciation. She encouraged everyone, and even had me practicing. After an hour, Sam was satisfied with the progress. “If you have free time, come into the Matmown to practice,” Sam said. “Especially you, Lillian.”

“Maybe I need some one-on-one time,” Lillian husked. “You could show me just how to use my mouth.”

“I can think of a few ways to use your mouth,” Candy giggled, then slapped Lillian on the ass.

Mary kissed me on the lips. “I have to go do the Portuguese broadcast, then I have my spa appointment. I want to be perfect for our anniversary.”

“How could you not be perfect?” I asked her.

She kissed me a second time. “Thanks, hun.”

We were going to Hawaii for our one year anniversary. Sometimes it seemed like a lifetime had passed since our wedding. Mary had a surprise planned for me, and had been making a few trips over there the last month to get things ready. After the honeymoon, my friend Chris was getting married, and then we would be off to the Middle East. It was time to stop the fighting. Too many people were dieing for us over there. We owed it to them to intercede.

I opened the iron door, hinges squealing in protest. Abigail, a curvy maid, waited outside, holding little Chase. I scooped my daughter up in my arms, and smiled as she reached out with her tiny hands and grasped my finger. She was so beautiful. Mary gave our daughter a kiss on the forehead, before sweeping off.

“Master,” Violet, my secretary, said, “The President is waiting in your office, he wants to talk about the Sapphicits in Idaho.”

I looked at my daughter, cooing, “Do you want to come watch Daddy work?”

Chase gurgled.

“Alright, let’s go.”

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

Lilith – City Hall, Seattle

There was a knock at my door.

I sat in my office at City Hall. It was the former Mayor’s office, and I had removed every trace of that filthy man’s presence from it, replacing it with the ornamentation befitting my station: a rich, mahogany desk carved with depictions of my Godesshood; a plush, leather seat; lush ferns in potted plants flanked the windows; precious urns looted from the Seattle Art Museum; along with numerous paintings, and a gorgeous, Persian rug that lay before my desk. Riches that would have made any King of Babylon or Egypt weep.

“Come in,” I purred.

Lana entered, full breasted, with wide hips. The blonde woman was gorgeous, for a human, and motherhood had only ripened her beauty. She was the first woman to bear another woman’s child. She and Chantelle had named the daughter Lily, and their little baby was proof that my vision of a world without men was viable.

“My majestic Goddess,” she purred, and prostrated herself before my desk. She was growing better at this.

“Rise, my priestess,” I murmured.

A smile filled her round face. “Fiona and Thamina have returned, and Abby has asked to see you.”

“Send her in,” I ordered, excitement fluttering in my chest. This would be the seventh ruin searched, but the first time Abby had asked to see me. “And your wife if she waits outside.”

“She’s with Lily,” Lana replied. “Our daughter has a touch of colic.”

“Very well.”

Lana disappeared for a moment, then returned with Abby. The Dabbat walked with a sinuous grace, a white bundle in her hand. My heart quickened. They found it so fast? I expected the search to drag on for months yet. So much of the Ancient world was lost, so much destroyed and buried. Abby knelt, holding her bundle up before me in supplication. I motioned my hand. Lana took the bundle, and walked over to me, bowing her head as she handed it over.

My hand shaking, I pulled apart the white cloth that bound the dagger. The blade was ugly, roughly made from cold iron. It was one of three Mispach, the bloody daggers forged by the first murderer, Cain, from a star that fell in the lands of Nod.

“I am well pleased with you, daughter,” I smiled at Abby, gazing down at her naked, brown body. She was sinuous and beautiful, entirely hairless. Her slitted eyes stared at me with hope. I reached out, stroked her smooth cheek. She shuddered, hissing her pleasure as she climaxed. “You have earned your reward.”

With a thought, my clothes vanished into red smoke, and I summoned my cock. Abby’s long, thin tongue flickered out at the sight. I pushed her across my desk, her round ass staring at me. Her cunt was dripping wet, filling the air with an earthy musk. I speared her; she came, her cunt writhing around my shaft.

I glanced at Lana, my ass pumping away. “Go find Haja and bring her to me.”

“At once.” Lana bowed and left.

I plowed into my daughter’s tight sheath. She hissed as her body writhed. Her back arched in ways that would break a human’s back, lithe and sinuous. She kept cumming, overwhelmed by my Lust. I drank in her passion. It felt as delightful as her cunt spasming upon my cock.

“Yes, yes!” she hissed. “I’m your whore, mother!”

“You are!” I groaned. “My wonderful, delightful whore!”

I increased the Lust flowing into her. She screamed, her back twisting around. I grabbed a small tit, pinching her dark nipple between my finger. I kept pounding her snatch. She never stopped cumming. My orgasm built quickly; Haja would be here soon, and I allowed myself to flood her cunt with my black seed.

“Thank you, thank you!” hissed Abby, my cum leaking out of her pussy as she collapsed to the floor. “I love you, Mother!” Her long tongue licked at my feet; I savored the wet, wonderful sensation.

“I love you, too, daughter,” I lied; my daughters were merely tools to increase my power, and no matter how useful you found your tools, you didn’t love them. “You are dismissed, Abby.”

My daughter stood, bowed, and stumbled out of the room past Lana. I hadn’t noticed my priestess return. Her eyes glanced down to my still hard cock drenched in Abby’s juices, lust shining in those blue depths.

“Haja is on her way, my Goddess,” Lana bowed. Her eyes flickered to the dagger sitting on my desk, full of apprehension. “What is that?”

I picked up the dagger, and answered her question: “Mark Glassner’s death.”

I nicked my finger with the blade. A single, dark bead of blood welled from the cut and landed upon the black metal. For a moment the dagger burned red, drinking in my blood, and binding itself to my life. I could feel the cursed thing like an ugly, throbbing wound upon my forehead.

“A single cut from this blade will kill any man or woman in minutes,” I explained. “Nothing can heal its wounds once it has been bound.”

“Nothing?” Lana asked. “Not even the Tsariy ritual?”

“Not even that,” I answered, then hesitated. “Well, no, my life is bound into the blade, and only my life’s blood could heal the wounded.”

“I see,” Lana replied carefully. “Isn’t that taking a risk? Shouldn’t I be bound to it? Or one of your daughters?”

I smiled at her. “No, it’s more satisfying this way.”

I stared at the blade. In November, Mark would stand before me, and I would get to watch him die, writhing in pain, helpless like the worm he is. It would be so satisfying knowing that I was his only salvation, that if he wasn’t writhing in pain, all he had to do to survive was kill me. And then the world would be mine; I would cleanse it of every single, last man—purged as clean of the vermin as Seattle.

There was a knock; Haja entered, thin and pale, as if she had no color—except her eyes, they were an ever-shifting rainbow. She was an Aja, capable of manipulating light, and could bend it about her and hide in the distortion, or she could focus the light to a bright beam that would slice through almost anything. Chantelle called her power a ‘laser’—one of the many filthy things invented by men in this time.

I carefully wrapped the dagger, and handed it to Haja. “Take this to Ziki,” I commanded. “Do not cut yourself with the blade.”

“Yes, Mother,” Haja answered, her voice little more than a whisper.

“And do not be seen! I will be most displeased!”

“I won’t, Mother!” She trembled in fear before me.

“Good, go,” I smiled.

As Aja left my office, I saw Crystal waiting outside. The next group of women I needed to impregnate must be ready. Every woman in Seattle had to submit to my affections and bear me a daughter. When November came, and Mark Glassner lay dead at my feet, my army would be as numerous as the stars in the sky and would swarm across the world.

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 50.

The Devil’s Pact Servants’ Chronicles Chatper 1: Cindy’s Interview

 

 

The Devil’s Pact Servants’ Chronicles

Chapter 1: Cindy’s Interview

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2014


Story Codes: Female/Female, Female/Teen female, Male/Females/Teen female, Consensual, Magic, Incest, Oral, Toys

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.



Notes: This takes place during Chapters 34 and 40.

Monday, September 2nd, 2013 – Cindy Mayflower – South Hill, WA
I lounged naked in Doctor Willow’s exam room, enjoying the afterglow of my orgasm. My mother moaned and gasped beneath Doctor Willow. The Doctor had a thick strap-on and was fucking Mom hard. Our Monday gynecological visits were the best part of our week. Somehow, during the last month-and-a-half, we had become more than Doctor Willow’s patients—we had become her lovers. I took a deep breath, the air filled with the scent of pussy. Mine, mom’s, Doctor Willow’s, and Nurse Hayfa’s cunts all mixed together to form this wonderful, intoxicating fragrance.

I frowned; it was a familiar scent, but something was missing. I took another deep breath, trying to place what was missing. “You don’t use those sweet-smelling incense anymore,” I suddenly realized, blurting out my words without thinking.

Beautiful nurse Hayfa—busy washing the dildo Doctor Willow had just fucked me with—turned and smiled, “You and your mom are comfortable enough now, you don’t need them to relax.” Her accent was exotic and musical.

She was naked, her dusky skin lustrous. My eyes fell to her ass—beautiful, full, round, heart-shaped. I wanted to kneel behind her, spread her cheeks, and taste her. As she washed, she shifted her hips, waggling that gorgeous butt invitingly at me.

“Fuck me! Make me cum, Doctor Willow!” Mom moaned.

I glanced over to see Doctor Willow’s cinnamon ass, also nicely shaped, pumping up and down as she humped my mother. It was part of our treatment for Prevarication Syndrome. I’m not sure how having a dildo pleasuring us—especially attached to the beautiful Doctor Willow—cured it; I just knew how much I loved the treatments.

My gaze was drawn back to Hayfa. I couldn’t resist that ass. I had read the Odyssey last year in English, and that ass was a siren, calling to me. Like Odysseus’s crew, I was helplessly drawn to Hayfa’s gorgeous rear. I walked across the small exam room—echoing with Mom and Doctor Willow’s passion—and knelt behind the Arabic nurse, and gave each cheek a quick peck.

“What are you doing back there, amira?” Hayfa asked. Amira was Hayfa’s nickname for me; it meant ‘princess’ and it made me feel so special when she said it.

I didn’t answer, deciding to let my actions speak for me, and spread her dusky cheeks. Her asshole was almost the same shade of brown as her skin, blending in. I let my tiny tongue gently taste the sour of her ass. I probed her wrinkled anus with my tongue, then pressed it forward into her asshole like a little dildo. Her bowels were hot and rough, twitching about my invading tongue

“Oh, you delightful sharmoota!” she moaned. “Tongue my ass!”

She gasped as I slipped two fingers into her drenched cunt. The nurses always had to watch Doctor Willow make love to Mom and me, and I always felt so bad for them that they didn’t get to enjoy themselves. I worked my tongue as deep into her sour ass as I could while my hand busied with her pussy. My thumb found her clit and she gasped, clenching her ass about my tongue.

“Oh, yes, stir me up!” she purred. “Telhas bokhshi!”

I fingered her faster as I worshiped her tasty, sour ass. Her breath grew more ragged, her pants higher pitched. Her hips writhed and shook. She let out a low, throaty moan, and her entire body went momentarily rigid. Juices flooded the hand fingering her pussy as a powerful orgasm rippled through her.

“Thank you, amira,” she panted. “That was so nice.”

She turned, pulled me to my feet, and gave me a loving kiss. “You’re welcome,” I beamed at her, proud that I had made her cum.

I turned just in time to watch Doctor Willow cum with Mom, the two shrieking loudly. Their breasts—one pair ivory, the other cinnamon—mashed together, nipples kissing. Doctor Willow collapsed on my mom, nuzzling her neck as the pair luxuriated in their afterglows. After a moment, the Doctor sighed, kissed my mom on the lips, then climbed off of her.

“Thank you, Doctor,” Mom breathed; her body flushed.

“It was my pleasure,” Doctor Willow answered as Nurse Hayfa began removing the strap-on from her. “How are your jobs going, Pearl?”

“Terrible,” Mom answered, “Neither one gives me enough hours, and I don’t have enough time to go home between them. They’re running me ragged, and I can barely pay the bills.”

Doctor Willow smiled, “I have an exciting opportunity for you and your daughter.”

“What?” Mom asked, her voice a mix of hope and caution.

“The Living Gods are going to need servants,” she answered, stepping out of the harness. “I don’t know exactly when, but you and your daughter are just the sort of candidates they’re looking for.” I felt heat flush through me as Doctor Willow’s considering gaze fell on my body.

“When would it start?” Mom asked.

“The interviews probably won’t be for a while,” Willow answered. “The mansion is months away from being completed, but the Gods may need servants sooner than that. So I’ve been instructed to offer retainers to keep potential candidates available at a moment’s notice. You would each be paid $3000 a month.”

“$3000!” Mom spluttered. “Each?”

The doctor nodded. “You’d just have to agree to a few stipulations. Hayfa, the contracts.”

“Yes, Doctor,” Hayfa murmured, my eyes following her ass as she swayed across the room. She produced several pieces of papers and handed one to each of us.

I examined it. I’d have to keep in shape—healthy eating and daily exercise—and attend weekly church service at one of the Living Churches springing up like mold across the Puget Sound. I blinked at the last stipulation. I would have to be willing to let the Gods, both Mark and Mary, use my body for sex, whether with Them or a third party of their choice. If hired, I would have to swear my soul to the Gods in exchange for eternal youth and their love.

Mom bit her lip, glancing at me. “This sounds like we would be…what? Their bang-maids?”

I flushed, picturing the God, Mark; He was handsome, young, with piercing blue eyes, and His Goddess was perhaps the most beautiful woman in existence. My pussy moistened, thinking about lying with a God. He’s like a prince from a fairy tail—the perfect man. I was dying to try out a real cock. I was too afraid to let any of the boys who went to Rogers High School make love to me, but Mark… I would definitely let Him ravish me. Sometimes, when I masturbate with my dildo—part of my Prevarication Syndrome treatment—I would imagine it was Mark making gentle love to me.

Why did I have to be sick the day Mark came to my High School last June? It seemed like He had ravished half of my female classmates. It was more proof of His Godhood; what normal man could fuck that many women in a day, let alone get an entire locker room full of girls to have an orgy with Him. All the girls He had fucked talked about how amazing He was. I could have been one of those girls if it wasn’t for the darn stomach flu!

“Exactly,” Doctor Willow answered. “They’re very lustful beings, and all of those who serve them have agreed to this.”

“Even you?” Mom asked.

“Even me.”

Mom chewed on her lip. “Eternal youth…is that possible?”

“They’re Gods; anything is possible.”

“Why do they need my daughter, she’s only fifteen?”

“I’m old enough,” I interrupted. “You don’t mind when Doctor Willow or Nurse Hayfa touches me.”

“That’s for your treatments,” Mom pointed out.

“He’s so handsome,” I sighed, “I wouldn’t mind, Mom. Not with Him.”

“You’re a package deal,” Doctor Willow said. “He’ll love the mother-daughter combination.”

Mom kept chewing her lip; I was afraid she was going to gnaw it off. “Please, Mom,” I wheedled. “You wouldn’t have to work those crappy jobs. We’d have more than enough money!”

She stared at me for the longest time. “Fine,” she sighed.

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

Wednesday, October 2nd, 2013 – Cindy Mayflower – Murano Hotel, Tacoma, WA
Our lives had changed when Mom and I had signed our contracts. Doctor Willow had immediately handed us each a check for $3000. It was one of those fancy business checks, larger than the ones Mom used to pay rent. Mom was able to quit her jobs, and we started hitting the gym and eating healthy. No more McDonalds for dinner!

Like most of the country, last Saturday we had fallen under the evil Brandon’s spell, forced to think he was a god. Luckily, two days ago Mark and Mary defeated him and revealed their glory—naked and wreathed in flames, the perfect embodiment of human strength and beauty—to the entire world. Then last night, Doctor Willow had called, saying an SUV would arrive to take us to our maid interviews with our Gods. I was so excited to finally serve Them.

Only if I passed my interview.

I couldn’t sleep for the longest time; too afraid that Mark would hate me. He would take one look at my budding breasts—I barely even needed to wear a training bra—and my flat ass and think I was too young and childish instead of my mature fifteen. I was a sophomore in high school, and far more mature than the girls my age. I just wished I looked it! And why did I have these stupid braces! They made me seem eleven!

At precisely 9:00AM, two women dressed like slutty cops knocked on our door. A sandy-blonde beauty, her round breasts about to fall out of her half-opened bodice, smiled at me when I opened the door. “I’m 23, and this is 24,” she said, motioning to the dusky-skinned cop next to her—she looked similar to the Arabic nurse Hayfa. Both had silver chokers about their necks inscribed with a number, and a curious, bronze amulet dangling between their tits. “We’re looking for Pearl and Cindy Mayflower.”

“I’m Cindy,” I smiled, trying to hide my nervousness.

The Arabic 24 eyed me. “He is going to to eat you up, balim.” I didn’t know what to say to that, but it brought a searing blush to my cheeks. 24 grinned, nodding her head. “He is definitely going to devour you.”

“Is it them?” Mom shouted from the back of the house.

“Yes,” I answered.

I heard her mutter a bad word. “I’ll be just a minute!”

“We need to search your daughter anyways, ma’am!” 23 shouted back.

“So start stripping,” 24 ordered, her tone firm, commanding.

“I…what?” I asked.

“If you’re not bound, we need to search you before you can be allowed into the Hotel,” 23 answered.

Bound? Where they going to tie me up? “Okay.”

I was wearing a new dress, cute and sexy, that laced up in the back, and cupped what little breasts I had, pushing them up to suggest I had some cleavage. It made me seem older. I reached behind me, starting to fumble for the lace, when 23 slapped my hands away and started unlacing me herself. The dress fell down, and underneath I wore only a garter belt and white stockings.

“Oh, he is definitely going to eat you up,” 24 purred, groping me. “Especially with those braces. Umm, balim, after your interview, we can get together. I get off at six.”

I flushed at her directness. “Maybe,” I squeaked. Was she wanting to have sex with me?

“You’re going to love serving them, the benefits are definitely worth it.”

Mom came out to see the two cops running their hands all over my body, sliding fingers into my intimate spots, and tweaking my nipples. I was flushed and horny when the two cops finished, the Arabic cop licking her fingers that had just been wiggling inside my pussy. They turned to my mother and quickly stripped her, hands fondling her inmate places.

I reached for my dress to put it on. 24 saw me, objected, “The Gods would rather see you naked. Uniforms will be provided if you’re hired.”

I flushed and nodded. Mom moaned and groaned, and was as flustered as I was when they finished their ‘search’. I was pretty sure it was unnecessary; more for the depraved enjoyment of the cops then to protect the Gods. Well, we agreed to be the Gods’ living sex toys, so I should get used to being fondled. Besides, it was kinda exciting, and my pussy was definitely aching to be ‘searched’ some more.

I fidgeted the entire ride, my poor pussy on fire. When we arrived at the Murano Hotel in downtown Tacoma, it was cold outside, and my nipples became as hard as diamonds when I stepped out of the SUV. Just a hundred feet away, the crowd of pilgrims that filled the street could see our nudity, and a great cry went through them. They must know that we were here to please the Gods and they were jealous of our good fortune. Many held signs proclaiming their willingness to be the Gods’ lovers. It was exciting, all these eyes lusting after me, and if it wasn’t for the cold wind whipping my blonde tresses, I would have been tempted to stay and bask in their attention.

Two more bodyguards flanked the doors, black rifles slung about their shoulders, and opened them up for us. It was blessedly warm inside, and my teeth stopped chattering almost immediately. About a dozen naked women sat nervously in the lobby, fidgeting in their seats. Soft chatter filled the air, like the warble of a flock of birds, going silent every time there was the slightest disturbance, looking around for the source, before they resumed their chirping. They were all beautiful, from as young as fourteen or fifteen, to as old as their late thirties. Most were in their twenties. I recognized many as patients of Doctor Willow, suffering from Prevarication Syndrome like Mom and me.

Doctor Willow and her receptionist Jayda entered the lounge, a clipboard in their hands. “Asuka, Tomoyo,” the doctor read off her clipboard. A naked, Japanese teen—long hair as black as night, newly-budding breasts, and creamy, olive skin—stood up. The Doctor led her up to the elevator.

They were going alphabetical by last name; when one interview was finished, they would call down for the next interviewee, one at a time, although once a pair of sisters went up together. The interviewees were always escorted by either Jayda or Doctor Willow. Usually the elevator would return with only the doctor or her receptionist, but sometimes a sobbing woman would walk out, muttering, “I couldn’t do it,” or, “It’s too much to ask of a person.”

“Mayflower, Cindy and Pearl,” Jayda called. She was all smiles as she led us into the elevator. “Don’t be scared, Cindy, they won’t hurt you.”

“Did you sell your soul to them?” I asked, a tremble passing through my body.

She smiled, nodding, “It’s quite pleasant to do, but you’ll be bound to them forever. Even in death. But the rewards…” Her smile grew ecstatic. “The rewards are worth it.”

The elevator seemed to take forever, moving slowly up to the top floor of the hotel, and a swarm of bees seemed to have invaded my tummy, buzzing around in the tight space and stinging me. The bile was rising up sour into my throat; I wanted nothing more than to empty my belly of the swarm. The elevator slowed, lurched, stopped; a bell dinged, and the doors slid slowly open.

Jayda led us through the hallway and Tomoyo, dressed in a french maid’s outfit, exited a room, carrying cleaning supplies. I flushed when I saw just how revealing the dress was: the blouse was transparent, Tomoyo’s dark nipples clearly visible through the black material, and the skirt was scandalously short; so short I was sure her bum would be visible if she bent over.

“Is that what we’ll be wearing?” Mom asked.

Jayda smiled. “The Gods delight in the beauty of their followers.”

“And why aren’t you dressed like that?” Mom asked pointedly.

“I don’t serve our Gods directly, I serve Willow,” Jayda answers. “She has a lot more…independence, and chooses how the nurses and I dress. Willow is at the same level as the Holy Sluts, though she isn’t one of them.”

“I see,” Mom answered, sounding a little puzzled.

“She’s a special case,” Jayda shrugged. “She once was a Holy Slut, but retired and serves the Gods in other ways.”

“Like finding beautiful women to serve them?” Mom asked. “Under the guise of free medicine.”

“Exactly,” the nurse answered. “Plus, she enjoys molesting her patients.”

“Molesting…” Mom’s eyes widened. “Prevarication Syndrome. It’s not real?”

“Nope! We used a little bit of magic to relax you two.” It clicked in my head; the incense. It always relaxed me and made me want to do whatever the doctor ordered. “Don’t worry about that, it’s just how things are done. Dr. Willow earned her rewards, and now you two are about to earn yours. Unless you have a problem with that?”

My mom glanced at me. “I guess it doesn’t matter how we got here, it just matters that we have the opportunity to serve Them.”

Jayda patted her arm. “That’s the spirit. C’mon, they’re waiting.”

One of the Holy Sluts stepped out of a room into the hallway—Violet. I flushed at the sight of her. I always admired the picture of her that hangs on the Living Church’s wall. She was about my age, maybe a year older, her brunette hair pulled into two pigtails, and a gold choker glinting about her neck set with amethyst; for clothing she wore a naughty, Catholic schoolgirl outfit: very short, blue-and-purple plaid skirt; knee-high, white socks; and a plain, white blouse tied at the midriff. Her hazel eyes found mine, and I flushed as they widened—pink tongue running across her red lips—as she examined me.

“Good luck,” she said, a touch breathless.

My heart was thundering in my chest, and I just flushed more, trying to work up the courage to say something. A second Holy Slut, April, burst out of the same door—dressed in a similar naughty schoolgirl outfit, though her silver-rimmed glasses gave her a sexy nerd vibe—and entwined her arm about Violet’s possessively.

“C’mon!” she exclaimed. “We need to get going, Violet.”

“Right,” Violet murmured, letting herself get pulled along by the nerdy brunette. Her eyes remained fixed on mine until she was dragged into the elevator.

I hoped to see her again. She was so pretty; her pigtails made her seem so innocent despite the whorish outfit she wore. Her hazel eyes were strangely compelling, stirring a confusing mix of desire and longing inside me. It was Mom’s tugging on my arm that snapped me out of my contemplation of Violet’s perfect face: smooth cheeks, a button nose, and those red lips that seemed so kissable.

“Sorry,” I muttered; my cheeks felt like they were on fire.

Jayda led us to a door guarded by a pair of slutty cops. One slid a keycard into the door and opened it. The suite was luxurious, like one of the hotel rooms that rich people stay in, and filled with strangely shaped furniture. Well, They are Gods—what did I expect them to stay in?

They sat on a love seat, naked, and Their eyes devoured us as we walked in. He was more handsome in person, with a chiseled chin, muscular chest, and deep-blue eyes that you could dreamily stare in all day long. And She was absolutely stunning. My breath caught as I beheld Her heart-shaped face that was framed by deep-red hair, and Her dazzling green eyes; Her breasts were perfect, perky and freckled, topped with dusky nipples. I had never seen a woman more beautiful in my entire life. I knew I would do anything to touch Her.

“Cindy and Pearl Mayflower,” Jayda introduced.

“Sisters?” my God asked.

“No, mother and daughter,” Jayda answered.

My Goddess shifted, leaning forward, and purred, “Really? You must have been young when you had her.”

“I was, Your Worshipfulness,” Mom breathed.

“Please, you can refer to me as Mistress or Ma’am,” She said, with a dismissive wave. “And he’s Master or Sir. Better than that mouthful.”

“Yes, er, Mistress,” Mom said.

“So, Pearl, have you ever had sex with your daughter?” He asked.

“No, Master.”

“Have you thought about it?”

My mom shifted, glancing momentarily at me, then answered, “Last week, during the Worship Orgy, it crossed my mind.”

“Why didn’t you act on those feelings?” She asked, fixing my mom with Her emerald eyes.

“I felt ashamed for those desires.”

“You shouldn’t,” She said. “There’s nothing wrong with showing your affection for your daughter. My mother and I are very close.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“If you want to serve us, you and your daughter must make love to each other,” He told her. “Otherwise, you’re free to go.”

I glanced up at my mom; I didn’t want to leave. My eyes widened as I saw her as a woman for the first time: her face was almost identical to mine, only more mature and ripened, with beautiful green eyes, and perfectly framed by her tousled, light-brown hair. My gaze traveled down her body; her breasts were full, sagging only a little bit, but still gorgeous with pink, fat nipples, and her stomach was sleek and toned. She was shaved; her thick pussy lips nestled between her slim thighs.

“You are so gorgeous, Mom,” I whispered.

Mom stared back at me with lust, and asked, “You don’t hate me?”

I shook my head.

She groaned low and throaty—like a big cat, a cougar—and pounced at me. Her lips were hot on mine, her tongue probing, playing across my metal braces, while her breasts pillowed softly against my budding tits. Two nipples rubbed like hard pebbles across my skin as we kissed, our tongues hesitantly exploring each other’s mouth. My hands seemed to wrap around her back automatically, hugging her tight.

“Oh, my sweet baby,” she purred. “I have to taste you. Let mommy taste your sweetness.”

“Oh, yes, taste me!” I moaned. “I’d love that.”

She pushed me down into a plush chair, the velvet fabric rubbing against my ass as Mom spread my thighs. Her fingers were gentle as they ran through the soft down of my pubic hair, teasing my tight pussy. Then she buried her face into my snatch, licking vigorously. She seemed desperate to taste every fold and crevasse of my youthful cunt, driving me wild with naughty sensations.

Mom was eating my pussy. And I loved it!

“Oh, mommy!” I moaned, my eyes widening as pleasure electrified my body.

“That’s fucking hot, Mare,” He groaned, and my eyes fell on His hard cock rising triumphantly from His crotch. Pride filled me up; I made His dick hard and throbbing.

My Goddess’s hand reached out, stroking His cock. “Why don’t we get that sweet, young girl to suck on your cock, hun.”

I licked my lips; that sounded wonderful.

“Would you like that?” He asked me.

I nodded, “Oh, yes, Master!”

He beckoned with His hand, and I pushed mom’s face away. She looked disappointed as I stood up and knelt before my God. I was intimidated by His cock. Only once before had I sucked a dick, during last week’s worship orgy. It was on a boy my own age named Patrick while my History teacher, Miss Blythe, coached me. “Mind your teeth,” she had explained. “The head of a boy’s cock is very sensitive. You can gently graze it with your teeth, but don’t bite. They will not like that.”

I started by licking—Miss Blythe taught me that it was a great way to start a blowjob—His cock, beginning at His balls, and licking all the way up to His tip. Mom’s head slid between my thighs, and her tongue worked wonderfully at my pussy, encouraging me to pleasure my God. I traced the mushroom-shaped head of His dick, felt Him shudder in pleasure, then sucked the head into my mouth.

A soft hand gripped my hair, my Goddess’s hand, pushing me down His cock. “Let’s see if you can deep-throat him,” She purred. More and more of His dick filled my mouth, starting to brush the back of my throat and I tensed. “Relax, Cindy,” She commanded. “Let his cock slip down your throat. He’ll love it.”

Her words soothed me, like they were reaching into my soul and brushing away my fear. I swallowed His cock, His hard shaft filling my throat, my lips descending to kiss His tangle of wiry, brown pubic hair. I couldn’t breath with His cock buried in my throat, but I trusted my Gods. He moaned and Her grip loosened, and I slid up His cock, taking a quick breath through my nose, before deep-throating Him a second time.

“You wouldn’t know that it was her first time,” He groaned. “She’s got a wonderful mouth.”

“Women always want to please me,” my Goddess purred. I slid back down the cock, deep-throating Him on my own as I heard my Gods kiss.

Over and over, I slid His cock into my mouth’s depths, rising back up, then I’d plunge His shaft back down my throat. Mom kept working my pussy, her tongue and fingers stroking the tempest inside me. Then the tempest broke and I came. I moaned loudly around His cock buried deep in my throat; Mom kept licking me and I kept climaxing, my passionate cries muffled by His cock.

“Holy shit!” He muttered. “Here it comes, slut!”

“Drink his cum!” She purred. “Don’t waste a single drop of my husband’s cum, you filthy whore!”

His cock burst salty into my mouth, three large blasts, forcing me to swallow like mad to keep from losing a single, delicious drop. His thick cream coated my mouth and tongue, and I savored its thick texture. I gasped for breath as He pulled His cock out of my mouth. I saw a bead of white cum oozing out of the small slit at the tip of His cock, and eagerly licked the tasty morsel into my mouth.

“Your daughter is quite the slut, Pearl,” He congratulated.

“Thank you, Master,” Mom answered, sliding out from beneath me. Her face was sticky with my passion; I couldn’t help but kiss her and taste my spicy flavor.

“Pearl, why don’t you put that tongue to work on my pussy,” purred the Goddess.

“I’d be honored, Mistress.”

My God grabbed my face, turning me to look at Him. “I bet your cunt is tight.”

“Yes, Master,” I flushed. “I’ve only used slim dildos. I’m practically a virgin.”

He grinned, “Come sit on my cock.”

I crawled up into His lap and tried to kiss Him; He stopped me, admonishing, “A good slut doesn’t kiss her Master with a mouth tasting of cum.”

“Sorry, Master,” I flushed.

My Goddess moaned as Mom started tonguing Her, and leaned in and gave me a kiss, full of passion. “It’s okay to kiss me with a mouthful of cum.” She giggled. “I love to taste my husband’s seed on another woman’s lips.”

“Or her cunt,” He smiled, and grabbed my hips and pulled me down on His cock.

“Umm, that’s the best,” She moaned.

His cock invaded me, sliding into my well greased and very tight hole. He was bigger than the dildo Doctor Willow had given me, and stretched my little pussy wonderfully. I gasped and bucked on His cock, eager to feel more pleasure. I rose up until only the tip remained in me, savoring the sweet way He rubbed inside me, then I dropped down, gasping as He filled me up once more.

“Fuck, she’s almost as tight as a virgin,” He groaned. “I love fucking teenage cunt!”

I beamed, working my hips on His cock. I was making my God happy, and His cock stirred up the passion inside me. “Fuck me, my Lord!” I groaned.

“My Lord,” He mused, hands guiding my ass as I pumped away on His cock. “I like the sound of that. I think the maids should call us my Lord and Lady.”

“Sure!” She moaned, her voice shrill with passion. “Oh, fuck, the mom’s got a tongue on her. These two are definitely keepers, hun.”

“If that’s what they want,” He stated.

“It is, my Lord!” I cried out. “I want to be yours!”

“Then you shall be, Cindy,” He answered as I bounced up and down on His wonderful cock.

His words triggered my orgasm; a powerful hurricane raged inside me, dashing waves of rapture against the coherency of my mind and washing away all reason and thought. Nothing remained but the pleasure of His cock. I clung to Him, my little nipples rubbing against His chest, His dick filling my tight pussy up. I ground my hard clit into His groin, adding more and more waves to the pleasure buffeting my body.

His cum pulsed into me, four large, heavy blasts that flooded my pussy—a God’s sacred cum. I was the vessel of His pleasure, worthy enough to used by Him, or by Her, to satisfy any desire They might have. I was in heaven, nirvana, or whatever you wanted to call it. I was Their servant.

Giddily, I let Him lead me into the bedroom where an older woman waited; still beautiful even though she was older than my mother. She was ripened to the peek of feminine beauty—Sandra Glassner, His mother. Her legs were spread, milky cum leaked out of the vessel that had brought one of my Gods into this world. I reverently knelt, my entire body trembling as I beheld this beautiful sight. I lowered my face, took a deep breath, and drank the nectar of her pussy.

“Zimmah,” He whispered, and energy sprang out of His mother into the two of us, wrapping about my very soul, then it snapped between us, a chain binding me to my God for all eternity.

Eyes widening, I moaned in awe, “I’m yours forever, my Lord.”

“Forever,” He smiled at me as my mom knelt and prepared to be bound. I watched eagerly as my mom’s tongue licked out, gathering a thick glob of His cum from Sandra’s pussy. He whispered the word. Mom was bound.

I threw my arms around my mom and kissed her soundly. Together we would serve our Gods forever. And that would give me plenty of time to get to know that cute girl with the pig-tails. Violet. What a beautiful name.

Click here for Chapter 2.

Chapter 48: The Patriot’s Blood

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Chapter 48: The Patriot’s Blood

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2013, 2014


Story Codes: Males/Teen male/Females/teen female, Female/Female, Mind Control, Magic, Incest, Lactation, Pregnancy, Orgy, Violence, Wedded Lust, Wife, Sex Toy

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 47.



For those of us that remained free of the Tyrants’ control, one of the great mysteries of their rule was the Patriots. They had appeared almost immediately to challenge Mark and Mary. From their first assassination attempt in Washington D.C., to their spectacular attack in February of 2014 that left dozens dead in the streets of Tacoma, the Patriots had been a constant thorn in the Tyrants’ side. So why did they mysteriously vanish after almost crashing Mark’s plane on May 1st, 2014?

–excerpt from ‘The History of the Tyrants’ Theocracy’, by Tina Allard

Thursday, May 6th, 2014 – Mark Glassner – The Mansion

“Are you ready, Chase?” I asked my week old daughter. I was using that high-pitched voice everyone seemed to use when talking to infants; I just couldn’t help myself; she was so cute and beautiful. Chase, as we had started calling her, cooed and stared up at me with her blue eyes. “I wonder what mommy is doing? Huh, do you want to go see?”

Chase gurgled.

“That’s what I thought, kiddo.” I kissed her forehead, and walked into Mary’s dressing room. My wife was naked, applying her make-up. Her auburn hair fell in a full, curly mass about her shoulders. “Looks like Mommy isn’t ready yet, even though we have to leave in fifteen minutes.”

Mary glared at me over her shoulder, her expression softening when she saw Chase. “Mommy needs to look like a Goddess,” she said in that high-pitched, sing-song voice. “Daddy just needs to not look like a slob.”

I feasted on my wife’s body. You could hardly tell Mary had even been pregnant. Between her Gift and her Pact, her body had quickly returned to its youthful, flawless beauty. Though her breasts were still a cup size larger, heavy with sweet milk. In fact, that was the first thing my daughter and I had in common—we both loved Mary’s milk.

I admired my wife as she pulled dark-black, thigh-high stockings up her pale legs, then stepped into her deep-blue dress, and pulled it up her body. It was strapless, and would leave the majority of her freckled breasts bare. “Can you zip me?” she asked.

I handed Chase to her, and Mary cooed happily at our daughter as I zipped her up. Chase was a happy baby during the day; at night, however, she was the opposite. I yawned; I had to spend an hour last night walking up and down the halls with our fussy daughter before she fell back to sleep. I could have had a maid do it, but I wanted to be her father, and that meant getting little sleep so I could take care of her.

“Today is your special day,” Mary cooed in a high-pitched, singsong voice. “You’re going to meet your worshipers, and they are going to just love you.”

The Cunningham twins were building the main Church of the Living Gods in downtown Puyallup, but for the moment they had repurposed a nearby Christian megachurch. Many Christian churches were being transformed into Living Churches as the number of Christians in America plummeted. With so many new converts over the last five months, many of our original worshipers had founded their own congregations across the country, our Missionaries.

As we walked through the hallways of the mansion, maids would pause from their cleaning to curtsy, and I let my eyes admire their fine bosoms on display in their transparent blouses, and maybe reach under a ruffled skirt to give a bare ass a squeeze. Outside, our limo awaited in the middle of a convoy made up of black SUV’s carrying several squads of bodyguards. More bodyguards would already be down at the church making sure everything was secure.

“There’s my Granddaughter,” Sean, Mary’s father, cooed, taking Chase from my wife.

Both of our families were coming to the ceremony. Sean stood at the heart of his family: his very pregnant wife Tiffany; his two daughters, Missy and Shannon; their boyfriends Damien and George; and the family’s sex slaves. Dawn belonged to Missy, Starla to George and Shannon, Mrs. Corra to Damien, and Felicity to Sean and Tiffany. It was still surprising to see Felicity; nearly a year ago Mary had given the teenage girl to her father, and then Sean had freed her. I never thought to see her again, but a month ago she showed up, begging to be Sean’s slave again.

“Don’t hog her,” my mom said to Sean, a big smile on her face as he handed our daughter off to her. “She’s just so beautiful, isn’t she Betty?”

My mom’s Black girlfriend nodded in agreement, her arm wrapped around my mom’s waist. Antsy insisted on her turn holding my daughter, and she tenderly held her niece while her girlfriend Via cooed in joy. Missy demanded to be next, then Shannon, and last the very pregnant Tiffany had her turn, tears glinting in her eyes as she held her granddaughter.

“We have to get going,” I finally said, taking my daughter from my mother-in-law. “You can hold her later.”

The limo pulled away from the mansion, and I noticed a flash of fear crossing Mary’s face. “What?” I asked her, reaching across the car seat strapped between us and taking her hand.

Mary glanced down at our daughter. “What if the patriots…”

“They won’t,” I lied. It was a fear nagging the back of my mind too. What if they did try something. I kept coming up with rationalizations why they wouldn’t. “It’s too public. They’re not going to risk all those innocent people.”

“Maybe this is a mistake, Mark.”

“We can’t keep her in a bubble all her life. We have our guards, she has her amulet, and we’ll be there to protect her.”

“Yeah, sis,” Missy giggled. “Your husband’s a bad-ass warrior. There’s nothing to worry about. He’ll just summon that wicked sword of his and…” She a swishing noise and sliced her arm through the air. “That’s that.”

Antsy laughed. “That’s my big brother. Attack the problem head-on with a big, phallic-shaped object.”

“Maybe I should attack you with a phallic-shaped object,” I grinned at my sister.

“Promise?” she asked, fluttering her eyes.

“You can count on it, sis.”

“So, Mark,” Shannon said, shifting in her seat between George and Missy, “I’ve always wondered something.”

“Yeah?”

“You got your gift from Mom, but how would you pass yours on. Hypothetically speaking, how did one Monk give his powers to another. Would you have to ass-fuck the guy? I mean, that’s basically how nuns do it, right?”

“Yep,” Tiffany nodded. “We ass-fuck each other.”

A laugh passed through the limo.

“So, how do you pass it on?” Shannon asked after catching her breath.

“I’d have to die,” I answered.

“What?” Mary exclaimed, giving me a shocked look. “Is that a joke, Mark?”

“Nope,” I said. “Monks pass on their gift to the person that killed them.”

“Why?” Mary asked. “I figured they just fucked someone. Like nuns do it.”

“It’s an act of forgiveness,” I explained. “I never told you this, Mare?”

She shook her head.

“That sounds weird,” Antsy said. “Why would they do it like that?”

“Well, the way Azazel explained it was to help the person who killed you become a better human being. That’s why there are so few Monks; if they were slain by a demon, or if they thought the man who killed them would abuse the power, they wouldn’t pass on their Gift.”

Mary raised her eyebrow. “How can you forgive the person that killed you?”

I shrugged; it seemed impossibly hard. “Fuck if I know.”

“Well, I guess you won’t be giving up your powers any time soon, big bro.”

“Yeah,” I grinned. “Little attached to my life.”

“So am I,” my wife smiled, and leaned over our daughter’s car seat to kiss me on the lips.

“Get a room!” Ansty yelled and Missy wolf-whistled.

“If we got a room, then you couldn’t watch,” Mary smiled at our sisters.

“That’s a fair point,” Missy said to my sister. “Plus, we couldn’t join in. So where’s the fun in that.”

“Excellent point, pipsqueak,” Antsy agreed.

“Pipsqueak?” shrieked Missy.

“Umm, how about a cute, beautiful, vivacious pipsqueak?”

“Better,” Missy smiled, and gave my sister a kiss on the lips, which brought a wolf-whistle from Damien.

The crowds were ecstatic as we pulled up to the church, held back by a line of bodyguards. Many of the faithful had flocked to the church to see their new Goddess. There were more women then men, a sad reality in the aftermath of the Wormwood plague, and I admired more than a few pair of exposed breasts as our limo crept slowly forward.

I savored the passionate cries of my worshipers that flooded the limo when Leah opened the doors. Our sexy chauffeur bowed with a flourish of her arm as I stepped out. I surveyed the crowed, then held my hand to help Mary out, little Chase in her arms. It was like a physical wave slamming into us as the crowd roared their love. I waved and Mary held Chase up to her cheek, facing our daughter towards our loving worshipers. The noise scared our daughter, and she started fussing; Mary rocked and soothed her as we walked into the church.

“My Lord, my Lady,” breathed Rose Cunningham, her blonde hair caught up in a long braid. Daisy, her twin-sister and wife, slipped up beside her, and they bowed their heads.

The Cunningham Twins were our High Priestess. In a ceremony in March, we had publicly bound them with the Zimmah spell in this very building, sealing their position as the head of our Church. Since they were bound, and therefore trustworthy, Mary handed over Chase to Daisy. Our priestess’s face melted with awe, and she gently cradled our daughter.

“She’s perfect,” Daisy breathed, handing the infant to Rose, who bent down and kissed our daughter’s forehead.

“We’ve set aside a room for you to wait in, my Lord,” Rose said, handing Chase back to Mary. “The Ceremony will begin in about an hour.”

I suppressed a yawn, there were worshipers watching us, and it wouldn’t do to let them see us as humans. “Lead on,” I commanded.

It was a small room set with a few, padded benches. Two of the maids—cute, innocent Cindy and sultry, dusky-skinned Karishma—had set out refreshments of wine and juice and quickly started serving Mary, our families, and me. I sat down between my wife and my sister, who pressed her warm body up against me. Almost immediately, Missy and her boyfriend Damien started making out.

“You are such a cute thing,” Sean smiled as Cindy handed him a glass of wine. Pregnant Tiffany gave her husband an amused look.

“Thank you, sir,” she smiled back, braces glinting on her white teeth.

“I would have loved to have you in my class.” Sean’s hand reached out and fondled the teen’s ass. Cindy’s grin broadened. She was a maid and lived to serve in any way.

Mary glanced up, rolled her eyes, and held up Chase to Karishma. “She’s a little young to see this.”

“Yes, my Lady,” Karishma purred in her Hindi accent. “You are so beautiful,” she cooed to my daughter, carrying her out of the room.

Cindy let out a gasp; Sean’s hand rubbed between her thighs. It seemed like I had transformed both our families into sex fiends. My sister’s hand rubbed at my crotch, her lips kissing my neck as Sean pulled our teenage maid into his lap, and aggressively kissed her.

Mary shifted in her seat. “All my careful work is going to get ruined,” she muttered, then shrugged. “Oh well, I’ll just cast an illusion on myself.” She had become quite proficient with the Ashan spell, and sometimes like to play pranks on me with her illusions.

I glanced at her. My wife’s cheeks were flushed, her emerald eyes wide with desire, and wet spots appeared over her breasts, darkening her bodice. “You’re leaking,” I whispered.

“Damn,” she muttered, pulling her dress down. Her two dark-red nipples popped into view, white milk beading on the hard nub. When she became horny, her breasts always leaked milk.

Shannon, who sat on the other side of Mary, smiled. “Let me help you, sis.”

Mary gasped as her older sister sucked her right nipple into her lips, nursing loudly. My sister pulled my cock out, stroking it a few times, then leaned over me to capture my wife’s other nipple. My shaft was rock hard, leaking pre-cum as my sister jacked me off. Her cheeks hollowed as she nursed at my wife’s breast, milk leaking out of the corners of her lips.

“Oh, yes!” moaned Cindy, drawing my attention to my teenage maid bouncing on my father-in-law’s cock.

My mother sat down next to Mary’s mother. They shared a passionate kiss, my mom’s hand roaming across Tiffany’s pregnant belly, pushing down her top to reveal her large breasts and dark-red nipples. My mom sucked a nipple into her mouth, and Tiffany moaned her delight.

“Fuck my ass, George!” Missy shouted. “I’m so horny! I need two cocks!”

The younger Sullivan sister, her strawberry hair streaming around her as she rode Damien hard, smiled over her shoulder. Her skirt bounced up and down, flashing her naked ass at George. Shannon’s fiancee didn’t hesitate to bury his cock in his future sister-in-law’s teenage ass.

Antsy straddled me, her lips kissing me, full of my wife’s creamy breast milk. My cock slid into my sister’s cunt, warm and hot, and she writhed atop me. The room was filled with the moans and gasps of our family enjoying themselves. I gripped her asscheeks as she furiously fucked me.

“Umm, you have a great cock, big bro,” she purred.

A tongue licked at my balls. I had no idea whose. The tongue followed up my cock and licked where I penetrated my sister’s pussy. Antsy moaned, glancing behind her. “You dirty slut, Via!”

Via, my sister’s girlfriend, gave a wicked giggle. “Wait until I’m licking your asshole!”

Antsy gasped, her cunt tightening on me, as Via’s tongue moved away from my cock. I pictured the black-haired girl’s face buried in my sister’s asscheeks, tonguing her backdoor. Antsy’s back arched, and her breasts pressed against my face. I pushed her red bodice down, and sucked a pink nipple into my mouth. I was disappointed not to get any milk; I had come to love breast milk.

“I should knock you up,” I grunted as her cunt slid up and down on my shaft. “I want to drink your milk.”

“What a nasty thought,” my sister grinned.

“Here, hun,” Mary purred, and her milk-heavy breast loomed before me.

She was kneeling on the couch now, her sister on the floor eating out her pussy. I captured my wife’s nipple and sucked hard. Delicious milk flowed into my mouth, warm, creamy, and sweet. I loved her milk; I loved every woman’s breast milk. I wanted to drain her dry, but my daughter loved my wife’s milk, too. And I wanted to be a good father.

“Let me taste!” moaned my wife.

I didn’t swallow the mouthful I had, and pulled my wife’s face down for a passionate kiss. My balls boiled; sharing breast milk with my wife, and being buried in my sister’s cunt, was too much for my dick. I groaned, my body tensing, and I shot three large blasts into my sister’s womb. She kept riding me, gasping and moaning.

“Lick my ass, Via! You dirty whore! I’m going to make you cum so hard!” she screamed. “I’m cumming! Oh, yes! I love fucking my big brother’s cock!”

Antsy leaned against me, then Via pulled her off me. My sister stretched out on the floor, her pussy messy with my cum. Via straddled her girlfriend’s face, and they slipped into a sixty-nine, Via sucking my cum out of my sister’s pussy.

“Oh, shit!” Mary gasped, throwing her head back as she writhed on Shannon’s mouth. “I love it! Make me cum, sister!”

I looked around the room. Cindy knelt on the floor getting fucked doggie style in the ass by Sean, her mouth buried in Tiffany’s cunt. Betty, my mom’s Black girlfriend, had Missy’s head buried between her thighs while sucking George’s cock and Damien had mounted my mom, his face buried in her tits, as he pumped away at her cunt. Damien had a thing for older women, and my mom was one hot MILF.

Smiling, I slipped behind my young sister-in-law, and stuck my cock into her tight, freshly fucked ass. Whenever the entire family gathered together, these sort of orgies were the consequence. We all loved each other, and what better way to show it then by shoving your cock into your wife’s sister’s ass while she ate out your mother’s girlfriend’s cunt?

Mary knelt beside me, and gave me a kiss on the lips, reaching out to fondle her little sister’s ass. “Don’t get too carried away,” she whispered. “We do need to present our daughter soon.”

“I’ll try,” I moaned, Missy’s ass tight on my cock.

“Come lick my pussy, Mary,” Shannon cooed. “I need to cum so bad.”

Mary gave a wicked laugh. “Well, I’ll try not to get too carried away myself!”

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

Noel Heinrich – Patriot Headquarters, Montana

“The ceremony should be starting in an hour,” Wyatt reported.

“Let’s get the golem’s moving,” I ordered.

“It’s still not too late to abort,” Wyatt pointed out. “I’ve seen the crowds gathering on the news. It’s going to be a bloodbath. The golems are not discriminating! Why not attack their mansion?”

“It has to be a place that we know where they’re at!” I countered. “And someplace public so Mark won’t flee. You’ve seen him. When there are cameras on, he can’t help but play the invincible god! We don’t know their schedule, so we wouldn’t even know when they would be there, and if we did, we don’t know the layout of that mansion. They could be anywhere in there, and slip away through the Shadows. We’re only going to get one chance at this so we can’t afford to fuck it up!”

“There has to be a better way! We can wait for another appearance! One where there aren’t thousands of innocents gathered! We’re supposed to protect these people, Noel! Not butcher them!”

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and steeled my nerves. “Their hunters have forced our hand. Alison and Desiree could find this place at any moment, Wyatt! The time for being careful is over! If thousands have to die, then that’s cheap in my book!”

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Why did I ever listen to you, Noel?”

“Because you can’t stand idle while people are enslaved.”

Wyatt spat. “Fine. Let’s get this bloodbath over with!”

I reached out to the black sword lying on the table. It felt disgusting in my hand. The blade seemed to drink the light in, reflecting nothing back. It was emptiness hammered into a weapon, like a part of the universe had been cut away, leaving behind a void of nothingness, a hole in the fabric of space. It was Annihilation, and what it cost me to procure this cursed sword haunted my nightmares.

It was the only thing that could harm the spirits guarding the Tyrants in the Shadows. Three of us had been lost trying to slip through the Shadows and assassinate them before we learned just what was protecting them. This blade could harm them, could kill them, so to speak. It was Annihilation, and would unmake their very souls, ending what is eternal.

I slid it into the sheath hanging from my waist. “Start opening the portals.”

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

Alison de la Fuente – One Mile South of Patriot Headquarters

My wife was sleeping, half on her side, her black hair spread out across her pillow. Our sleeping bag was half unzipped, and her pillowy, brown breasts were exposed to my gaze, topped with her dark nipples, looking like Hershey kisses and tasted just as sweet. It reeked of pussy in the tent; we had fucked each other like bunny-rabbits last night after we finished planning our attack.

We were going to attack the Patriot’s suspected stronghold tonight. Our soldiers were special forces: a mix of SEALs, Delta Force, and Marine Force Recon. All were veterans of Iraq and Afghanistan, proficient at midnight raids. We each had ten soldiers under our command, all bound to Master with the Ragily prayer. More than enough to storm the house under cover of darkness and eliminate everyone inside.

We had a Predator drone orbiting overhead, and its infrared only showed a dozen or so people living in the ranch. Snipers would take out the sentries, and the rest would rush the compounds and capture or eliminate the Warlocks before they knew what was happening. For now we just had to wait behind a knoll a mile away from their compound.

And I knew just how I wanted to pass the time.

I dug into my rucksack, and found a hot-pink dildo and a clear strap-on harness. I quickly pulled them up my slim legs, adjusted the end of the dildo so it pushed against my little clit, and cinched the straps nice and tight. I thought I saw movement, and I stared at my wife; the curve her lips twitched as she suppressed a smile.

“Hmm, what a pretty, and helpless woman I found,” I said out loud. “It would be a shame if some perverted woman came along and molested her.”

Desiree continued her charade of sleep as I grasped the side of our sleeping bag, and peeled it gently to the side, exposing her lush, nut-brown skin. I reached out, and stroked her thigh up to her plump, Latin ass, squeezing her cheek. She was so beautiful, almost as beautiful as Mistress, and every day I was thankful to Master for bringing us together.

Sometimes I despaired of ever hunting down all these despicable Warlocks. I wanted to spend so much more time with my wife and my Masters. Then stop hunting the Warlocks, my subconscious whispered. Then you can go back to Master, and be with him and your wife.

No. Desiree needs to do this. And I need to help her!

Then let her do it, answered my subconscious. Master needs you at his side. Leave Desiree and go back to him. You never should have married her to begin with!

I love her! I screamed at my subconscious.

I didn’t know why I had these regrets about marrying Desiree. I loved her so much, more than Master and Mistress. When we were apart, I ached for her. It had been difficult the last six months being separated from her and our Masters. But Desiree needed to hunt down the Warlocks for what he had done to her, and I needed to help her punish them. Sadly, it was faster for us to split up. Anger burned inside me; I wanted to make all the Warlocks pay! I hated them all for what he did to my wife. If I could raise Brandon Fitzsimmons from the dead, I would flay every inch of his flesh, starting with the cock that raped my Desiree. I would just have to settle for disposing of all the other Warlocks.

I pushed my anger down, and ignored my stupid subconscious. I had a beautiful, ‘sleeping’ wife to molest. I bent down, and kissed her butt-cheek, then kissed my way up her hip and side. I found her ribs and gently moved her arm out of the way so I could follow them to her large melons. I rubbed my cheek against her soft breast, and found her dark nipple, sweet as chocolate, and sucked it into my hungry lips.

A soft sigh escaped Desiree’s lips, and I looked through a curtain of my pink hair to see Desiree quickly shut her eyes. I nipped her nipple, biting ever so gently with my teeth, and felt her twitch. I released her nipple, and kissed up the slope of her breast to her shoulder. I bit and nibbled on her shoulder blade, then I nuzzled at the nape of her neck, sucking hard just above her choker, and leaving a dark hickey.

“Umm, you are such a sexy, helpless woman,” I cooed in her ear, after kissing up her cheek. “I’m going to stick my cock in your cunt, and have my way with you.”

I rolled Desiree onto her back, her black hair falling over her face, and I parted her thighs, settling between them. I rubbed the tip of the dildo across her slit, smearing her juices to lube it. Desiree twitched every time the hard plastic brushed her clit. After a few tries, I found her hole, and pushed just the very tip of the dildo inside her, enjoying the fake cock’s base pushing back against my own clit.

“Oh, no, what are you doing?” Desiree gasped in mock alarm, pretending to wake up. “Please, stop! I am a virgin!”

“Ohh, that just make’s this more fun,” I cackled, pushing in the dildo an inch.

“No, no, no! Someone help me!” Desiree cried out. I giggled; she was cheesier than a soap opera. “I have never been with a man before.”

“I’m no man,” I growled, pushing in another inch.

Desiree’s hand found my perky breast, fingering the barbell that pierced my nipple, and purred throatily, “Umm, I see that.” I pushed in again, sinking the dildo almost all the way in. “No, this is wrong!”

I gently pumped into her. “Doesn’t this feel wonderful? Your cunt was made to have my cock shoved inside it!”

“Yes! I mean, no! It’s so wrong! Women shouldn’t be making love! I’m no lesbian! Take it out, please!”

“If that’s what you want?” I sighed, and started pulling the dildo out of her, but Desiree’s legs wrapped around me, stopping me. “I thought you wanted me to stop?”

“I…I…” she stammered. “I want you to fuck me!”

I pushed the dildo into her just a little bit. “You want me to fuck you? I thought you weren’t a lesbian!”

“I was wrong!” Desiree moaned. “Fuck me! Make me your lesbian whore!”

I shoved the cock in, delighting in the pressure on my clit. Hearing Desiree begging to be my lesbian whore was stoking my fires big time; I pounded her pussy. “My little, lesbian whore!” I gasped, watching her breasts bounce as I fucked her. “You love it, don’t you!”

“Yes!” Desiree gasped. “You’ve made me love women! Pound my cunt! Make me cum!”

My orgasm was an inferno burning through my entire body; I drove the dildo deep into her cunt as I writhed in passion. She kissed my neck and chin, her hips screwing up into me as she ground her clit against my pubic bone. Her hands squeezed my ass, urging me to fuck her harder. I pumped my hips as fast as I could, Desiree panting every time the dildo buried into her snatch.

Then she exploded, writhing beneath me. “¡Mi Sirenita!” Desiree gasped, lost in the pleasure of her orgasm. “¡Me estoy corriendo!”

Desiree smiled contentedly at me. So irresistible; I bent down and kissed my wife, and her arms wrapped around my body, hands running across my back. I slipped my tongue into her mouth, explored her and caressed her tongue. “I love you,” I told her when I broke the kiss, then I grinned, “Do you want to play…”

“Ma’ams!” Sergeant Holland shouted from outside, “Something’s going on at the ranch!”

I sighed, kissed Desiree one last time, and shouted, “We’ll be right there, Sergeant.”

“Very good, ma’ams.”

“¡Mierda!” Desiree cursed. I thought the same thing. I hadn’t cum yet!

After we were dressed in camo fatigues, we joined Sergeant Holland, formerly of the Marine Force Recon, on the knoll. Thirteen men and women were gathered outside before the field of rough, clay statues. A pair of them were standing on ladders doing something in the air. I focused my auraculars—a pair of enchanted binoculars Sam whipped up that allowed you to see a person’s aura—on the people on the ladders. There was something weird in the air, glowing lines, and the men moved their arms like they were drawing an arc in the air.

“They’re making a portal,” Desiree muttered. That definitely made them Patriots. Only the Patriots and Lilith’s followers knew that spell, and no man followed Lilith.

“Why do they need one so big?” I asked her.

The portal finished, shimmering as it opened on the misty Shadows. It was large, easily ten or twelve feet tall and twenty feet wide. More than enough for a human to walk through. My stomach sank; that was tall enough for one of those statues to walk through.

“¡Mierda! They’re fleeing!” She glanced at Sergeant Holland. “We need to attack right now! Before they get away!”

“Risky,” he answered. “We’d be exposed. There’s not much in the way of cover between here and there.”

They’re going to attack the Church! my subconscious screamed. You have to stop them!

“Wait!” I shouted, “They’re going to use the statues to attack the ceremony! Master and Mistress are presenting Chase this morning!”

As I spoke, the front ranks of statues lurched to life, and then more and more ranks. Like a wave rippling through a pond, the roughly shaped, clay figures started moving. A blonde woman was at the portal. She walked through, and a group of ten statues followed her into the Shadows.

“I want the drone to drop its hellfire missiles right on the mass of Warlocks!” I shouted at the Sergeant.

“Yes, ma’am!” he grabbed his field radio, and started relaying his orders.

Desiree grabbed her radio, “Snipers, take out their sentries! All other units prepare to assault the compound!”

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

Noel Heinrich

The portal sprang to life as Ben and Jarvis finished drawing their circle, the gray mists of the Shadows pressing against the portal’s plane like smoke against a glass window. Ben and Jarvis climbed down their ladders; the portal had to be carved large enough for the golems to fit. Nodding in satisfaction, I turned to survey the field of golems, all roughly shaped from the red clay we had dug out of a nearby hill. Each was hulking, standing ten feet tall, and broad shouldered, but only had the vaguest resemblance to a human, like they were merely cut-outs in the shape of a human without any of the fine details: eyes, nose, muscle definition, hair, lips, bellybutton. They stood motionless, waiting for a Warlock to activate them. We had a hundred and thirty. Ten for each of us.

I took a deep breath, and yelled the golem’s activation order, “Met!”

The first ten shook and came to life. Wyatt shouted the order, then Jarvis, Ben, Gus, Marrisa, and the rest. Row after row of the hulks came to life, their bodies creaking as they began to move. Hebrew letters appeared on their foreheads, blazing scarlet. They spelled a single word—death. They would reek havoc in the church, killing anyone who got between them and their target. They would not stop, they would not tire, they would only kill. Even if we were struck down, they would keep killing. And Mark, wanting to prove how great and mighty he was, would throw himself into the fray. I smiled; he’d be overwhelmed.

Drawing Annihilation, I stepped through the portal. With booming footsteps, the ten golems under my command followed me through the portal. I peered around the mists, keeping a wary eye for Mark’s ghosts. I didn’t see any. But you couldn’t see far through the fog. I glanced behind me, watching my golems stump through the portal. Wyatt and the other Patriots waited for their turn, standing in a group by the portal.

They all looked uncomfortable, nervous, talking to each other or smoking a cigarette. Arms folded, tension in their eyes. And guilt. Wyatt looked at the ground, his shoulders slumped. None of them liked my plan, but we had run out of options. Mark was too powerful, and we were being hunted down like dogs. There was—

Fire engulfed my compatriots. Red and orange erupted in the blink of an eye, boiling with fury. A rapidly expanding cloud of flames and smoke consumed them, then ripped through the ranks of the golems like a combine through a wheat field, battering their bodies into chunks of red clay. Then the shock wave slammed into me.

The fog spun about me as I was thrown by the force of the explosion; Annihilation flew from my hand. I tumbled through gray mist, struggling to comprehend what had happened as I was tossed like a piece of debris in a hurricane. I landed on my arm; there was a sickening crunch, and pain roared through me. I rolled across the ground, and came to a rest next to the black blade. It had landed point down, sunk to the hilt into the gray rocks.

What just happened?

I lay dazed, my ears ringing. My thoughts were scattered, and my mind groggy. The image of Wyatt and the other Patriots waiting for their turn to enter was burned into my mind. They had been standing together talking or smoking a cigarette, waiting for their turn to lead their golems through the portal, when—my thoughts froze.

They were all dead: Davin, Jarvis, Marrisa, Nyree, Kilie, Ben, Alec, Gus. I was the last one left.

I felt numb—too stunned for grief. Mark had found us, and sent some sort of air strike. I should be dead, too. I had barely entered the Shadows when it happened. My body shook; I missed death by mere seconds. The weight of what just happened fell on me, crushing my soul. I was the only one left.

It fell on me to save the world. That weight almost crushed me.

“I’ll see you dead, Mark!” I screamed into the shadows. “You’ll pay for every innocent life you destroyed!”

I sat up, trying to ignore the pain of my broken left arm. I glanced once at it, and almost threw up. It was twisted; a splinter of white bone jutted bloody out the side. I grasped Annihilation with my good arm, and struggled to my feet. Surrounding me stood my golems, patiently waiting for their orders. Two were destroyed in the blast, and another had lost an arm.

I was the last Patriot! I would see Mark Glassner dead even if it cost me my life! Gritting my teeth, I led my golems through the mists.

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

Alison de la Fuente

The hellfire missile struck at the center of the mass of Warlocks, consuming them in red flames and black smoke. The shock wave was so powerful I could see it rippling through the air, collapsing the side of a barn, blowing out the windows of the ranch house, and blasting the animated statues into huge chunks of red clay, which flew in every direction and crashed down across the Montana countryside.

The second missile was overkill, striking just feet from the first and collapsing the rest of the barn. A few seconds later, the booms slammed into our position on the knoll. The shock wave struck me, and I felt like I had just jumped face first into a pool of water. My hair whipped about my head, and my ears protested the sudden pressure change. The Patriot’s three sentries only had to time to gape at the missiles’ devastation before they fell dead to our snipers’ fire.

“Good kill,” Sergeant Holland radioed to the drone operators back in Langley, Virginia.

“Maybe one got away,” Desiree mused as she scanned the wreckage with her auraculars. “That blonde woman was through the portal when the missiles struck. I don’t know if explosions can pass through a portal or not.”

“Um, are those statues still moving?” I asked. Maybe twenty of them, the ones farthest from the portal, were still standing. It looked like they were turning around, walking towards us with a slow, unstoppable gait. “I think they’re coming for us.”

“Send another missile down,” Desiree ordered. “Wipe them out.”

“The drone only carried two Hellfire missiles,” Sergeant Holland answered.

The snipers opened fire, their bullets sending up puffs of red dust, pitting the surface of the claymen. They may as well have been firing BB guns for all the good their shots did. When the lead hulk reached the barbwire fence surrounding the ranch, it just walked through it, the barbwire tangling uselessly about its legs.

Sergeant Holland whistled and waved at our men waiting at the base of the knoll.

The soldiers scrambled up the hill almost as agile as mountain goats. Two had one-shot missile launchers called LAWs, small tubes that they quickly deployed. They aimed and squeezed their triggers. With a hissing whoosh, the rocket motors ignited and they streaked down the hill in a shower of sparks, and struck home, exploding against the chests of the first two clay men. Clouds of black smoke billowed away, revealing gaping holes blown into their chests. The first fell apart after taking one step, but the second somehow kept coming, enough of its mass left to sustain it. Despite the fact that I could see through the damned thing, the clay man kept plodding closer and closer.

“Set out Claymores,” Sergeant Holland shouted. Three soldiers slid down the knoll and started sticking Claymore antipersonal mines into the ground; small, olive-green rectangles, slightly concave, and stuck into the ground on small legs made of wire. They were powerful, filled with high-explosives and ball bearings, the charges shaped to spray a concentrated area with maiming death.

“Call Sam,” Desiree shouted at me. “We need to know how to kill these things.”

I pulled my satphone out of my pocket, looked up Sam’s number in the directory, and called her. It took a moment for the phone to connect to the satellite and another ten seconds before it started ringing. And it rang and rang as the clay men drew closer and closer. They were deceptively fast; while their gait was slow, their stride was very long, and they were already approaching the base of the knoll.

“Pick up, pick up!” I snarled at the phone in frustration.

A boom shook the air as the first claymore detonated, finishing off the second golem and spraying the third one with shrapnel, shearing off its arm; it didn’t seem to care. The soldiers opened fire, muzzles flashing, and my ears were assaulted with cracking gunshots. The golems were sprayed with automatic fire, chunks of mud flaking off them, and gouges and pockmarks began to litter their bodies. They still kept coming, the soldier’s bullets too small to hurt something that large made of hard-packed clay.

“How many claymores did you set out?” Desiree asked.

“Three,” Sergeant Holland answered. “All we had.”

“¡Mierda!”

We were in trouble. The satphone just rang and rang.

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

Noel Heinrich

“Ignore the pain, Noel,” I whispered, my voice hoarse. “Just ignore the pain. Mark Glassner must die for all the atrocities committed in his name, and his callous enslavement of the world. All humans deserve to be free, and to ensure that freedom it sometimes means spilling blood. Your enemies’ blood and your own. For generations, men and women have laid down their lives at the altar of Liberty, and today it’s your turn. So keep walking, Noel.”

I stumbled through the Shadows in a haze of pain, my golems lumbering along beside me. I knew my destination, picturing the church in downtown Puyallup, and let instincts guide me. That’s how you moved around in the Shadows—instincts. What would be a twelve hour trip in the real world, would take me maybe thirty minutes of trudging through the never-ending mist.

I tried to shove down the pain of my broken arm. I bound it to my chest with my torn shirt. All I wore now were my pants and my bulletproof vest, my 9mm service pistol holstered at my waist, a bronze dagger tucked into my belt, and Annihilation, the sword of negation, clutched in my good hand. I held the vile thing in a death grip; the price I paid was far too high for me to lose this blade.

I just kept putting one foot in front of the other, just one more step, over and over. Righteous anger fueled me—and guilt. The innocent girl’s face swam in my mind, pleading. I tightened my grip on the sword, trying to forget that memory. I never could.

The Tyrants had to die! Their tyranny could not be allowed to run unchecked. I would stop them no matter the cost to my soul! I just needed to keep putting one foot before the other. Step after pain-filled step. Time seemed to lose all meaning in the Shadows, and distance was only a thing remembered from the real world. Here everything looked the same. Gray ground, gray fog.

“Hello, Noel,” a soft voice whispered out of the mists.

She stepped out before me, blonde and beautiful, a sad smile on her lips. A terrible ache grew in my heart as I stared at the spirit, and for a moment my resolve slipped and those memories I had carefully bottled threatened to rush back; I tightened the lid, and reclaimed my resolve. Nothing was going to stop me, not after all I had done to reach this point. After I had killed—

The girl’s innocent face filled my mind again. Her face was never far, frozen in that awful moment. Her eyes had bulged as her fingers had clawed ineffectually at the garrote. Guilt racked my soul; I could not let her death be in vain! Her death had to mean something! Otherwise I had murdered her for nothing, and that would mean I was nothing more than a—

I pushed the guilt away; I was a Patriot. I did what was necessary to defeat the Tyrants. I gripped Annihilation, raising the hole-in-reality up, and leveled it at the spirit before me. I had to finish this! I had to kill Mark! No matter the cost!

Even if that meant condemning Chasity to oblivion.

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

Alison de la Fuente

“Pick up, pick up!” I screamed at the satphone. “Pick up you stupid…”

“Hello?”

“Candy, put Sam on right goddamn now!”

“We’re in the middle of something important,” Candy said brusquely. “We’ve found something here at Qumran, call back…”

“Put her on right the fuck now!” I screamed. “It’s life or death! We’re under fucking attack!”

“Fine, Alison,” Candy sighed. “You don’t need to be so melodramatic.” She paused, then asked, “Are you setting off fireworks?”

“Those are guns, you stupid cow!”

“Stupid cow?” she muttered angrily. “I should just hang up right now!”

“I’m sorry,” I said through gritted teeth. I wanted to reach through the damned satphone and wring the stupid cow’s throat. A boom rocked me, the second claymore detonated, blowing the legs off a golem. It fell to the ground in a cloud of red dust, then flailed on the ground with its arms, before finding purchase, and started dragging itself up the knoll. Great. “Now put Sam on before we die you stupid fucking cow!” I snarled, so angry my words almost ran together.

Candy snorted, and she spoke to someone. There was more rustling, then Sam answered, “Hey, Alison, what’s so important?”

“We’re being attacked by clay men,” I told her with relief. “The Patriots created them.”

“Claymen?” Sam frowned. “I’m not sure I’ve heard of that.”

My stomach sank. “Really? Only heavy explosives seem to do anything to them. And we’re running out of those.”

“Hmm, describe them in detail.”

“They’re tall, maybe ten feet, and made of red clay. They don’t feel pain or anything. They’re like animated statues, and we’ve already killed the Warlocks who activated them, and now they’re attacking us.”

“Interesting,” Sam murmured.

“It’s really not! These things are practically unstoppable!”

“They sound like golems,” Sam said. “It’s a Jewish legend. Supposedly they’ll obey any command that their Warlock gives them. Is there anything written on the golems’ foreheads?”

I peered through the auraculars at the nearest golem’s forehead. There was something there: three Hebrew letters. It was hard to make out which three as the golem lumbered forward. “Yeah, a three-letter Jewish word.”

“That would be met, I believe,” Sam answered. “It means death in Hebrew. Without a Warlock to guide them, it will just kill the nearest humans until it is deactivated.”

“So how do we deactivate them? Outside of brute force?”

“Oh, destroy the word on their forehead,” Sam explained. “That’s probably what actually stopped them. The blast probably disrup…”

I hung up—I didn’t have time for one of Sam’s long-winded explanations—and screamed, “Shoot for the forehead!”

“Yes, ma’am!” Sergeant Holland shouted back, ejecting the magazine smoothly from his weapon and jamming in the next one, and started firing.

Bullets began peppering the golems’ faces. The damned things were so close, so I drew my Colt .45, and aimed the pistol at the nearest one’s face. My hand shook with adrenaline as I unloaded the clip; I missed with every shot.

“Shit,” I muttered.

I ejected the clip, fumbling with the replacement magazine. The first golem collapsed in a heap of red rubble from the soldiers’ fire, then a second and third. It was working! We could do this! I slammed the magazine into my pistol, released the slide, took a deep breath, aimed carefully. “You can do this, Alison,” I whispered, then fired, emptying my entire clip in two heartbeats.

And missed with every goddamn shot! I didn’t even hit the fucking golem’s giant torso! Dammit! The damned thing was almost as big as the side of a barn! And I did so well on the practice range. I ejected the magazine, my hands shaking violently. I tried to calm them down, breathing deeply. How were all these soldiers so calm? How could they face down unfeeling and unliving mounds of clay walking towards us like it was just another day at the office.

“We need to retreat!” Holland shouted. Half of the golems were destroyed, but the other ten were so close, about to summit the knoll.

“Fall back!” Desiree ordered. I didn’t need to be told a second time.

Two of the soldiers, Millner and Vasquez, kept shooting, providing cover for our retreat, as the rest raced down the slope of the knoll. It was two miles to where we parked the vehicles. Two miles across broken ground and scrub bushes; we’d never outrun the golems. That didn’t stop us from trying!

Fear spurred me as I ran down the hill, heedless to how dangerous it was. I didn’t care that I might trip and fall and break my neck, I just knew that if those things caught me a broken neck would be the least of my problems. The hill was dotted with olive-green brush that ripped at my arms as I raced by, leaving stinging cuts I barely felt. I reached the bottom of the knoll, thrilled that I somehow didn’t fall, and I put all my effort into running as fast as I possibly could. I wasn’t going to die here, killed by some fucking golem!

I stepped in a jackrabbit’s hole.

The damned thing was practically invisible, dug into a tuft of yellow grass. My ankle twisted; pain shot through me, white-hot. I fell forward with a loud gasp, landing hard on my hands and knees. I couldn’t lie here, those things would tear me apart. I pushed back up, struggling to stand. I put weight on my hurt ankle; it folded up like a cheap chair. I cried out, clutching it, and collapsing onto my face again.

“Alison!” Desiree shouted, kneeling down next to me.

“I think I messed up,” I said, trying to grin through the pain—I failed.

“Come on,” she said, grabbing my arm.

Desiree put her arm under my shoulder, helping me up. She supported me, my arm wrapped around her shoulder. We struggled forward—I was reduced to hopping on my one good ankle. Behind us, I could hear thudding footsteps. I glanced back and saw six golems striding down the knoll after us, Millner’s ruined body clutched in one of the golem’s fists like a bloody, torn doll. Vasquez raced ahead of the advancing golems, running like the Devil himself was licking at his heels.

“Let’s go!” Vasquez shouted, grabbing my other arm and, together, he and Desiree half-carried and half-dragged me away from the golems.

We didn’t go fast. There wasn’t much that I could do. I opened my mouth, prepared to tell my wife to leave me, but she shot me a warning glance that said everything: “I love you, and I am not leaving you behind to be torn apart.” So I struggled to use my one good foot, trying to push us forward as they carried me. The other soldiers quickly outdistanced us, and the golems kept advancing like a force of nature, uncaring, unfeeling, unmerciful.

Holland and the other soldiers reached a line of scrub, and turned to provide us covering fire. Another golem collapsed behind us, but those thudding footsteps grew closer and closer. Two more collapsed. A grenade sailed over our head, exploded, and I screamed in pain as something hot seared into my ass.

“Faster!” I urged, glancing behind me to see a golem only ten feet away, his arms outstretched. Christ, his hand was bigger than my head!

The gunfire was dwindling; the soldiers were running out of ammo. They drew their sidearms, carefully aiming, and opened fire at the golems. I could hear the bullets whistling as they flew right over our heads. I scrunched down, trying to hunker my head out of the soldiers’ line of fire, and squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t want to see what killed me. Whether it was the golem’s grasping hand or my own men’s bullets, I didn’t want to know.

See what your stupidity has done! my subconscious railed. You never should have left his side!

“I’m sorry, Masters,” I whispered; I didn’t want to die. I wanted to be at Master’s and Mistress’s side forever with Desiree. “I’ll wait for you with Chasity and the others. Yours forever.”

There was a groaning noise and a loud thud as something heavy crashed into the ground behind me. The gunfire stopped; the soldiers cheered, whopping and hollering with unabashed joy. I forced myself to open my eyes and look back. Strewn across the ground behind us were six piles of red clay, one just feet away, a small line of clay leading from that mass to just inches from me. The thing must have been just heartbeats from wrapping its strong hands about my neck and squeezing the life out of me.

Whoops of joy went up from the soldiers. I started shaking as Vasquez and Desiree set me down. We were alive. Energy surged through me, and I grabbed my wife and kissed her thoroughly on the lips. We were alive! She held me tight, trembling in my arms. We lived! We defeated the Patriots, stopped their attack, and survived! Desiree thrust her tongue into my mouth; my fingers stroked her neck and cheek, savoring her warmth, her life.

I was so happy! I didn’t even feel the pain in my broken ankle.

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

Noel Heinrich

A battle raged around Chasity and myself, the other ghosts attacking my golems with silver swords. The golems would punch, but their blows were ineffectual against the ghosts, unable to hurt those who were already dead. But their damned, silver blades could hurt my golems, hacking and biting into the clay, and sending chucks flying off to be dissolved by the mist. One golem collapsed, enough clay missing from its legs for it to be able to stand.

None of that mattered as Chasity stood before me, a silver blade in her hand. “Out of the way, Chasity,” I growled. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You can’t hurt me,” Chasity answered.

I raised the black blade, the tear in reality, and Chasity’s eyes fell nervously on it. “Don’t be too sure, Chasity.”

“Watch out,” Karen called out. “That’s Mishbath, the Blade of Annihilation.”

Chasity’s eyes narrowed, but her resolve never wavered. “Turn back, Noel.”

“I can’t,” I hissed. “He deserves to die, to have never even existed. I will set mankind free from his tyranny!”

“Please, Noel,” Chasity begged, “Don’t make me kill you. Remember that night we shared, the passion?”

“I remember that you threw your life away protecting them the next morning!” I screamed. “They made you their slave and forced you to sacrifice your life. Just like all the other ghosts here! They are monsters, Chasity! Now step aside, or I will deliver oblivion to you!”

“Mark’s the monster?” Chasity asked, eyeing the blade with disgust.

Purple face. Bulging eyes. Hands scrabbling at the garrote.

I pushed the guilt down. “He’s enslaving the world, he needs to be stopped, Chasity.”

“He’s making it a better place,” Chasity retorted.

“Of course you think that. You’re still his slave!”

“I am,” Chasity asserted, voice full of pride, “and that’s why I can’t stand down. He’s my Master.”

“And you threw your life away for him!”

“No!” There was anger in Chasity’s voice. “My death was not in vain! He learned compassion! He stopped seeing us as merely things, but as humans with hearts. That’s why he set you free! He felt guilty for what happened to me. He learned compassion from my death. He’s just human, he’s made mistakes!”

“He’s a beast, a monster. He unleashed Lilith, and look at all the harm she’s caused!”

“Lilith tricked him!” Disgust curled Chasity’s lip, her eyes flickering to the abomination cluched in my hand. “You summoned Ashtoreth, and you call him a monster? He’s never murdered anyone! I know what you had to pay for that blade! Whom did you strangle?”

Bulging eyes and a purple face starring up at me.

“I did what I had to!” I spat.

“The excuse of a tyrant.”

“I am a Patriot!” I shouted, rage screaming from my lips, and I swung the blade at her face. The mists parted before the blade, snapping back like a taut string severed; the fog screamed in my mind as oblivion claimed a small portion of it. Chasity raised her silver sword, and negative black struck shining silver, locking together with a sickening screech that vibrated my bones. I drew back and hammered another blow at her; she parried. Again and again I slammed Annihilation at her; again and again she blocked my fury.

“Are you so eager for oblivion?” I snarled. “One slip-up and you’re gone, Chasity! Just let me pass!”

“I will face oblivion for him,” Chasity resolved, her face fierce and beautiful, her voice full of passion. “He is my Master.”

I had tasted that passion before. Memories of that night—her last night alive—we had shared flashed through my mind. We had loved each other passionately; I had been consumed in ecstasy for this woman. The emotions I had beaten down into the depths of my soul after Chasity’s death came rushing out, screaming in protest as I strove to drive my blade into her body.

“Please,” I begged, trying to bottle them up again, but they were like a gas hissing into the atmosphere, impossible to rebottle. “Please don’t make me do this.” I could feel the tears rolling down my cheek.

“Then stop! Walk away.” Her sapphire eyes softened. “I think I loved you that night. Maybe, if I hadn’t died, we could have been something more.”

Her words slapped me, and I stumbled back. No! Be strong! Liberty has its price! Blood must be shed, even if it’s the blood of your friend, your lover. With an animalistic scream, I leapt at her. Annihilation swung through the mist, the fog crying out in pain as the blackest blade cleaved through the vapors towards Chasity’s body. For just the merest moment, profound grief and regret flashed across Chasity’s face, then iron-hard resolve glinted in her sapphire eyes; her sword stabbed forward.

It didn’t hurt as her blade slipped between my ribs.

Annihilation fell from my suddenly useless hands before the abominable sword could connect with Chasity. For a moment I stood there, impaled upon the silver blade, staring into Chasity’s ice-blue eyes. Her face broke, twisting into sadness. She reached out with a trembling hand to me, but my legs buckled and became useless; I slid backwards off her blade, landing on the ground with a grunt. I stared up at the never-ending mist as my lifeblood spilled out, staining the gray ground red. I shivered, a numbing cold spreading through my limbs. Chasity stood over me, tears running like silver rivulets down her cheeks, and bent down and picked up the terrible blade.

“Do it,” I whispered, the guilt consuming my soul. I had murdered that girl for the blade. She had been so full of life, and I was only full of death. “Send me to oblivion.”

She swung the sword at my head.

Only it missed, burying in the gray ground just above the crown of my head. Something inside me snapped, the chain wrapped around my soul—my slave chain—was severed, setting me free from bondage to Lucifer. Free from his torment, but not free from my punishment.

“I don’t deserve this,” I sobbed as Chasity knelt down next to me, grasping my hand. A rough, wet cough rattled out of my throat; copper filled my mouth. “She was an innocent.”

Chasity stroked my face, bent down, and kissed me on the lips. When she pulled away, they were stained red. “We all make mistakes, Noel. Some are just worse than others.”

“I’m scared,” I whimpered. The cold was spreading through my torso; my vision shrank, leaving only Chasity’s beautiful face. “Don’t let me go.”

“I won’t,” she whispered.

“I’m so sorry, Roxy,” I cried out. That was her name. Roxy. She had run away from home; from one horrible adult to an even worse one. She had wanted to be an actress, going to Hollywood would be her big break. I stole that from her for something as meaningless as vengeance.

My eyes closed; regret filled me. That was living, regretting all the hurts you heaped on your friends, your family, on strangers; regretting all the missed opportunities—chances to have fun, to take risks, to experience love and companionship. What was the point in living if you never actually lived. I had let the anger and rage at Mark consume me, burning out all the good parts of my soul and leaving behind only ashes. Regret.

My heart slowed. All feeling faded away from me, the clammy mist upon my face, the rough ground beneath my back, the shuddering pain in my torso. Every sensation was bleeding from my body except one single hand gripping mine, full of love and forgiveness. I clutched at that hand as I hung over the precipice of death. I didn’t want to be alone and full of regrets. I wanted love. I wanted Chasity.

My heart stopped beating.

My soul fell into the darkness; I held on to Chasity’s hand with a death grip, unwilling to let go. I was like a woman hanging from a cliff mere moments from plummeting to her death. Her only hope is a strand of flimsy grass. So she clutches it, knowing the blades are too weak to support her weight, but not caring because she so desperately wants to live that she’ll do anything, no matter how impotent, to survive. I didn’t want to plummet off my cliff, so I clutched Chasity’s hand with all my strength—my blade of grass—and hoped for a miracle.

Sometimes miracles can happen.

I opened my eyes; Chasity’s face shone above me. I sat up, leaving my physical body behind; the mist assaulted my corpse, dissolving it like styrofoam in nail polish remover. Joy surged through me—I wasn’t going to be alone! I hugged her, and kissed her on the lips, warm and wonderful. Her arms wrapped around me, holding me tight, and her lips kissed down my cheek to my ear.

“I didn’t let go,” she whispered. “You’re one of us now. Somehow your soul is tied to mine.”

“I chose love,” I answered, caressing her cheek. “I didn’t want any more regrets.”

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 49.