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Der Pakt mit dem Teufel Kapitel 6: Marys Entscheidung

 

 

Der Pakt mit dem Teufel

Kapitel 6: Marys Entscheidung

Von mypenname3000

Übersetzt von Horem

© Copyright 2013, 2014


Story Codes: Male/Female, Male/Teen female, Male/Female/Teen female, Male/Male/Female, Female/Female, Female/Teen female, Female/Teen female/Teen female, Teen female/Teen female, Mind Control, Rimming, Anal, Domination/Submission, First, Group, Incest, Romance

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

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



Click here for Kapitel 5



„Ich gehe nach oben und warte“, sagte Mark mir. „Wenn deine Liebe zu mir größer ist als dein Zorn, dann komme bitte nach oben. Wenn nicht, dann liebe ich dich trotzdem und ich werde dich nicht aufhalten. Nimm das Auto, nimm die Sachen, alles was du willst. Ich verspreche dir, dass ich dir nicht hinterher schauen werde. Nur, denke bitte darüber nach. Ich liebe dich, Mary!“

Ich hörte, wie Mark aufstand und den Raum verließ. Ich schluchzte in meine Hände. Kein Wunder, dass ich mich den ganzen Tag wie eine Nutte benommen hatte. Ein Mann, den ich noch nie gesehen habe, sagt mir, dass ich die perversesten Sachen machen soll und ich mache sie einfach, ohne darüber auch nur nachzudenken. Es war so, als habe er eine Art animalischen Magnetismus, dass er irgendeine besondere Lust in mir geweckt hatte, dass ich selber diese Dinge tun wollte. Und dass diese Gefühle dazu geführt hatten, dass ich mich in ihn verliebte hatte. Aber dass ich jetzt herausgefunden hatte, dass er mich kontrolliert hatte! Dass ich eigentlich nur eine Marionette war, die er an seinen Fäden hatte tanzen lassen. Verdammt, das war mehr als ich vertragen konnte. Mein ganzer Körper schüttelte sich, während ich weinte. Die Erkenntnis, dass Mark magische Kräfte hatte und dass der Teufel sie ihm gegeben hatte, lastete schwer auf meiner Seele.

Und das Schlimmste war, dass ich ihn liebte. Ich sehnte mich nach ihm. Ich wollte nach oben rennen und ihm zeigen, wie sehr ich ihn liebte. Ich wollte ihn umarmen und küssen… und ihn ficken. Aber wie konnte ich meiner in seiner Nähe sicher sein? Mit einem einfachen Kommando war ich Wachs in seinen Händen, bereit alles das zu tun, so pervers es auch war, solange er es wollte.

Dir haben die Perversionen doch gefallen.

Nein! Er hat dafür gesorgt, dass sie mir gefallen. Solange ich in seiner Nähe wäre, wäre ich seine Sklavin, so wie Allison und Desiree.

Aber er hat dich doch frei gelassen. Er hat dich aus seiner Macht entlassen. Wenn er es wollte, könnte er dafür sorgen, dass du hierbleibst. Er könnte dafür sorgen, dass du willst, dass du bei ihm bist und er könnte dafür sorgen, dass du alles vergisst, auch dass du zornig auf ihn warst. Du würdest ihn dann bitten, dich noch weiter zu erniedrigen. Du würdest auf Händen und Knien hinter ihm her kriechen.

Nein! Nein! Nein! Ich bin meine eigene Frau! Ich bin nicht Marks Sklavin! Ich bin kein Objekt für seine Lustbefriedigung! Meine Seele war zerrissen.

Ich stand auf. Ich musste hier raus! Ich schlang den Bademantel um mich, nahm mir den Schlüssel für den Eos, den Mark mir … gestohlen hatte. Meine Güte, war das ein Durcheinander! Ich hatte nur einen ganz dünnen seidenen Bademantel an. Er bedeckte meinen nackten Körper kaum. Ich hatte aber keine Zeit mehr, um mich umzuziehen. Was wäre, wenn er nach unten käme und mir eine erneute Gehirnwäsche verpasste? Panik ergriff mein Herz und ich sprang auf. Ich rannte durch das Wohnzimmer und griff mir die erstbeste Tüte mit Kleidung, die Allison achtlos abgestellt hatte. Mir war egal, welche Sachen in dieser Tüte waren. Ich könnte mich später umziehen, wenn ich erst einmal weg war. Wenn ich frei war.

Ich rannte nach draußen, schloss den Eos auf und sprang hinein. Ich steckte den Schlüssel in das Zündschloss und drehte ihn. Der Motor erwachte mit einem Schnurren. Ich würde entkommen. Ich würde weggehen, ich würde frei sein. Ich nahm den Schaltknüppel und erstarrte. Du liebst ihn doch! Dieser Satz kam aus der Tiefe meiner Seele. Du liebst ihn doch.

Aber er hatte mich erniedrigt. Er hatte mich verletzt. Wieder schluchzte ich.

Ja. Aber wer hat noch nie denjenigen verletzt, den er liebt?

Tränen rollten an meinen Wangen nach unten. Mein Bauch verkrampfte sich. Ich versuchte, einen Ging einzulegen, aber meine Hand wollte sich nicht bewegen. Wenn ich jetzt den Rückwärtsgang einlegte, war ich frei. Los Mädchen, es lohnt sich nicht. Wenn du zurückgehst, dann bist du wieder seine Sklavin.

Du bist jetzt frei. Mark hat dir die Wahl gelassen. Egal, was du auch wählst, du bist frei.

Er hat mir wehgetan. Wie kann ich zu ihm zurückkehren?

Du liebst ihn. Du kannst ihm vergeben.

Ich erstarrte. Ich konnte ihm vergeben. Mein Herz klopfte. Ich konnte ihm vergeben. Ich liebte Mark, ich sehnte mich nach ihm. Meine Hand am Schaltknüppel zitterte. Es kam nicht darauf an, warum ich ihn liebte. Mark hatte recht. Es kam nur darauf an, dass ich ihn liebte. Und er liebte mich. Wenn er mich nicht lieben würde, dann würde er mich so behandeln wie Allison und Desiree. Wie eine Hure. Du hast ihn doch mit anderen Frauen gesehen. Die Hälfte der Zeit hatte es ihn überhaupt nicht interessiert, ob sie Spaß am Sex hatten, oder ob sie gar einen Orgasmus hatten. Aber bei mir, da sorgte er immer dafür, dass ich auch meinen Spaß hatte und dass es mir auch kam.

Und was war mit Allison und Desiree? Ich konnte nicht leugnen, dass es mir auch Lust bereitete, sie herum zu kommandieren, sie wie meine Lustobjekte zu behandeln. Es gab da einen Punkt. Es machte mich geil, jemanden zu haben, der die perversesten Sachen macht, die ich haben möchte. Eine wunderschöne Frau, die nichts lieber tut, als dich mit ihrer Zunge zu befriedigen oder mit ihren Fingern. Mark hatte das auch von mir haben können. Und er hatte es auch von mir bekommen, damals, als ich noch mit Cynthia und Vivian zusammengearbeitet hatte. Aber er hatte mich befreit. Könnte ich dasselbe mit Allison und Desiree tun? Ich rutschte im Sitz hin und her. Meine Muschi kribbelte vor Lust. Nein, ich glaube nicht, dass ich das konnte. Aber was war, wenn er mich wieder zu seiner Sklavin machte? Ich liebte Mark, aber ich vertraute ihm nicht.

Dann hatte ich einen klaren Moment und ich hatte eine Erkenntnis. Es gab eine Möglichkeit, dass wir auf ewig in unserer Liebe gleichberechtigt waren, dass ich ihm vertrauen konnte.

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Die Haustür öffnete sich. Ein Automotor startete.

Mary würde gehen.

Ich schluchzte in meine Hände. Mary hatte recht, mich zu verlassen. Ich hätte ihr nie sagen dürfen, dass sie mich lieben sollte. Ich hätte ihr nie sagen dürfen, dass sie mich ficken soll. Ich hätte nie ihre Beziehung zu ihrem Freund zerstören dürfen. Ich hatte ihr nichts als Untreue und Schmerz gebracht. Wie kann man so etwas mit jemandem machen, den man liebt? Das Schuldgefühl war drauf und dran, meine Seele ganz aufzufressen.

Ich schniefte höhnisch. Meine Seele! Darauf kam es ja gar nicht mehr an! Sie gehörte mir ja sowieso nicht mehr. Ich hatte sie ja für diese Fähigkeit verkauft. Ein einziger Tag mit diesen Fähigkeiten und das war das Ergebnis. Ich hatte es gründlich versaut. Ich war ein Idiot gewesen, als ich annahm, ich könnte künftig kein Loser mehr sein, wenn ich diese Fähigkeiten hatte.

Aber was sollte das alles jetzt noch!

Liebe ist für die Schwachen, flüsterte eine leise Stimme in meinem Kopf. Das brachte mich wieder an der Rand der Verzweiflung. Denk daran, was du dir heute früh versprochen hast. Du bist ein neuer Mann. Du brauchst keine Schuld mehr. Aber du brauchst auch keine Liebe mehr. Liebe sorgt nur dafür, dass du dir Sorgen um diese Huren machst. Und jetzt hast du dein Lieblingsobjekt verloren. Dein freches Fohlen.

Aber sie war nicht meine Hure. Eine Hure liebt man nicht. Und ich liebte Mary. Das war nicht einfach nur Lust. Ich fühlte etwas anderes für sie als für Cynthia und Vivian. Und sie bedeutet mir mehr als Allison, für dich ich eine gewisse Begeisterung habe.

Vielleicht hast du sie geliebt,. Aber sie hat dich nicht zurückgeliebt. Sie hat einfach nur gemacht, was du ihr gesagt hast.

Ich nahm die Schachtel mit dem Ring aus meiner Hosentasche und öffnete sie. Ich starrte den Diamantring an. In dem dunklen Zimmer, ohne dass es Licht zum Reflektieren gab, war der Diamant einfach nur ein dunkler Stein. Genau wie Marys Seele. Mary hatte mich nie geliebt. Sie hatte einfach nur das Licht meiner Befehle reflektiert. Das war ein brillantes Licht gewesen, das mich bezaubert hatte, das mich mit seiner Schönheit geblendet hatte. Aber ohne meine Befehle gab es nichts zum Reflektieren, nur eine dunkle Seele, die von mir angewidert war, die mich hasste.

Ich schloss die Schachtel wieder. Ich sollte den Ring loswerden. Ihn in die Toilette spülen, ihn auf den Müll werfen. Ich brauchte ihn nicht. Ich hatte ja meine Huren. Alles, was ich jemals haben würde, waren meine Huren. Allison und Desiree, und es würden noch weitere kommen. Eine Hure liebte man nicht. Eine Hure heiratete man nicht. Eine Hure fickte man nur, spritzte ihr seinen Samen in den Mund, in ihre Möse oder in ihren Arsch. Allison und Desiree waren beide nass und im Haus. Zwischen ihren Schenkeln könnte ich Mary vergessen. Mein Schwanz rührte sich in meiner Hose. Ich würde sie roh ficken.

„Mark“, flüsterte eine Stimme in der Dunkelheit.

Ich schaute hoch und ich erstarrte. „Mare?“ fragte ich ungläubig. Ich sah ihren wunderschönen Körper in der Tür stehen. Ich war so in meinen Gedanken gefangen gewesen, dass ich gar nicht bemerkt hatte, dass sich die Tür geöffnet hatte und dass Licht vom Flur in das Zimmer fiel. Sie war ein Engel, sie strahlte vor Liebe. Sie stand nicht unter meinen Befehlen, sie zeigte mir das Strahlen ihrer eigenen Liebe.

Sie kam zu mir und kniete sich neben mir auf den Boden. Ich umarmte sie und schluchzte an ihrer Schulter. „Es tut mir so leid, Mary, so leid.“ Alles war ich gefühlt habe, floss jetzt aus meiner Seele: Schuld, Scham, Angst, Herzschmerz, Verzweiflung. Ihre sanften Arme umschlossen mich, seidiges Haar streichelte meine Wange.

„Schsch“, machte Mary und schaukelte mich in ihren Armen. „Ich vergebe dir. Aber wir müssen etwas ändern.“ Sie zog sich zurück und bedeckte mein Gesicht mir ihren weichen Händen. Ihre grünen Augen schauten durch die Schlitze ihrer Finger in meine Seele.

„Was du willst!“ sagte ich.

„Wir müssen gleich sein“, sagte Mary. „Unsere Beziehung kann nicht bestehen, wenn wir nicht gleich sind.“

„Natürlich, Mare“, sagte ich glücklich und drückte sie an mich. Mary erwiderte diese Bewegung. „Natürlich.“

„Um gleich zu sein, muss ich meinen eigenen Pakt abschließen.“

Ich versteifte mich in ihren Armen. „Weißt du auch, was du da sagst? Du wirst deine Seele verkaufen.“

„Ja“, sagte sie. „Dann werden wir wirklich gleich sein.“

Ich schluckte. Ich wollte ihr eigentlich sagen, dass sich das nicht lohnte. Aber ich würde diese wunderschöne Frau, die mir eben vergeben hatte, nie haben, wenn sie nicht ihren eigenen Pakt abgeschlossen hatte. „Okay“, stimmte ich zu und drängte meine Einwände in den Hintergrund.

Mary entspannte sich und war von ihren Emotionen überwältigt. Tränen standen in ihren Augen. Vorsichtig wischte ich eine Träne weg und sie küsste meine Handfläche. Und dann weinten wir beide, wir umarmten uns und dann küssten wir uns leidenschaftlich. Ihre Zunge war heiß in meinem Mund. Irgendwie war der Bademantel aufgegangen und ihre Brüste waren in meiner Hand. Sie waren weich und gleichzeitig fest. Ihre Nippel waren hart, als ich mit ihnen spielte. Mary stöhnte leise in meinen Mund. Der Duft von Kokosnuss erfüllte meine Nase, Strähnen von ihrem rotbraunen Haar strichen über mein Gesicht. Weiche Hände knöpften meine Hose auf und fanden dann meinen Schwanz, hart und pochend und befreiten ihn aus seinem Gefängnis.

Ich stand auf und Mary lag in meinen Armen. Ihre Arme hatte sie um meinen Hals geschlungen und wir küssten uns, bevor ich sie auf das Bett legte. Sie war geschmeidig und nass, und sie wand sich, und sie war so wunderschön. Ich zog mein Hemd aus und schob meine Hose und meine Unterhose herunter. Ihre Augen glänzten vor Gier und ihre Arme und Beine öffneten sich, als ich mich auf sie legte. Sie zog mich an sich. Marys Zunge war in meinem Mund, als ihre Finger nach meinem Schwanz griffen und ihn in ihre nasse Muschi führten.

Ihre Schamlippen fühlten sich an wie Seide, als sie meinen Schwanz an ihrem Schlitz nach oben und nach unten führte. Und dann fand meine Eichel ihr Loch und ich war in meiner Geliebten. Wir stöhnten beide und wir bewegten uns beide gleichzeitig. Wir küssten uns und wir keuchten. Ihre Muschi war so warm und nass, sie hieß mich willkommen.

„Ich liebe dich“, flüsterte ich, während mein Schwanz langsam immer wieder in ihre Nässe eindrang. „Ich liebe dich auch“, flüsterte sie zurück. Sie küsste mich und rieb ihren Kitzler gegen mein Schambein, wenn ich in ihr innen anstieß.

Unsere Hüften bewegten sich jetzt drängender und mein Schwanz schürte die Flammen ihres Orgasmus und ihre Muschi schürte meinen. Meine Hände fanden eine Brust, fest und weich in meiner Hand. Ihre Finger kratzten über meinen Rücken, während ihre Leidenschaft weiter wuchs. „Ich bin so nah!“ flüsterte sie in mein Ohr. Sie biss vorsichtig hinein. Unsere Hüften fickten jetzt feste. „Fester, fester, mein Hengst!“ stöhnte sie. Und dann zuckte mein Fohlen unter mir, als die Lust durch ihren Körper strömte. Die Muschi meines Fohlens molk meinen Schwanz, als sie in ihrer Lust unter mir zuckte und zitterte. Mein Sperma schoss in ihre Höhle.

Ich rollte von Mary herunter und sie kuschelte sich an mich. Sie legte ihren Kopf auf meine Brust und ihr Haar bedeckte mich. Ich streichelte ihr Haar und sie seufzte zufrieden. Ihre Hand streichelte meinen Bauch. Wir lagen nebeneinander und genossen einfach nur die Anwesenheit des anderen und den Frieden und das Glück. Sie atmete langsamer und schlief ein. Ich schloss meine Augen und tat es ihr gleich.

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

Etwas lutschte warm und nass an meinem Schwanz und brachte mich wieder zu Bewusstsein. Es war dunkel, mitten in der Nacht. Marys Mund war an meinem Schwanz und ihre Zunge schlang sich um meine empfindliche Eichel. Ich konnte sie in der Dunkelheit neben mir knien sehen. Ihre Hüften waren neben meinem Kopf.

Ich streichelte ihr Bein und fuhr mit meiner Hand bis zu ihrem Arsch nach oben. Sanft zog ich sie an mich. Sie hob ihr Bein und schwang es über mich. Ich roch ihre Erregung, süße und würzig. Sie senkte ihre Muschi auf meine Lippen. Meine Nase drückte sich in ihren Schlitz. Ich atmete ihre Gier ein und meine Lippen fanden ihren harten und geschwollenen Kitzler. Ich saugte an ihrem Kitzler, während sie meinen Schwanz bis in ihren Hals nahm. Wir stöhnten einander in das Geschlecht hinein.

Ich trank ihren Nektar, süß und würzig, während sie mit ihrem Kopf auf meinem Schwanz auf und ab fuhr. Sie machte das ein paar Mal schnell, dann nahm sie mich wieder in ihren Hals und ihre Kehle zog sich um meiner Eichel zusammen, als sie mit ihren Lippen mein Schamhaar küsste. Dann entließ sie meinen Schwanz wieder und fing von vorne an. Ich saugte an ihrem Kitzler und schob ihr zwei Finger in ihre nasse saugende Muschi. Ich bewegte sie und fickte sie, wobei ich ihren G-Punkt suchte. Als ich ihn gefunden hatte, zuckte sie über mir und saugte hart an meinem Schwanz.

Wir kamen gemeinsam, mein Sperma floss in ihren Mund und sie gab mir ihren Saft zu Trinken. Mary kam zu mir hoch und wir küssten uns und schmeckten einander. Dieses Mal legte ich meinen Kopf auf ihre weichen Brüste und dann schliefen wir beide wieder ein.

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

Weiches Licht drang durch die Vorhänge, als die Sonne über dem Mount Rainier aufging. Mary lag an meiner Seite. Sie hatte mir den Rücken zugewendet. Ihr Arsch fühlte sich an meiner Hüfte schön weich an. Mein rechter Arm lag unter ihr, als rollte ich mich auf die Seite und drückte mich von hinten gegen sie und hielt sie in ihrem Schlaf fest. Ich döste noch einmal ein, Marys Arsch rieb sich langsam an meinem Schwanz, der anfing, hart zu werden.

Ich fing an, ihren Hals zu küssen und eine Hand zu ihrer Hüfte zu bringen, dann um sie herum, um eine kleine Brust zu bedecken. Mary seufzte und rieb ihren Arsch an meinem Schwanz. Dann rutschte mein Schwanz zwischen ihre Beine und rieb sich an ihrem Schlitz. Mary bewegte sich ein wenig und rieb jetzt ihre Fotze an meinem Schwanz. Sie wurde feucht, während ich langsam mit meinem Schwanz kleine Bewegungen machte.

„Komm, steck ihn rein“, stöhnte sie schläfrig.

Ich schob meine Hüften ein wenig nach vorne und meine Eichel rutschte in ihre Muschi. Langsam fickte ich sie. Mary drehte ihren Kopf und wir küssten uns. Es fühlte sich gut an, in ihrer Fotze zu stecken. Sie griff mit ihren Muskeln nach meinem Schwanz. „Du fühlst dich so gut an“, stöhnte ich in ihr Ohr. Ich küsste sie leicht und knabberte an ihrem Ohrläppchen. „Es fühlt sich gut an in meinem Fohlen!“

Sie griff nach meiner Hand auf ihrer Brust und zog sie zu ihrer Fotze. Dann rieb sie meine Finger an ihrem harten Kitzler. Sie stöhnte und drückte meine Hand gegen ihren Kitzler. Ich fing an, sie fester und tiefer zu ficken. „Oh, komm, fick mich!“ keuchte sie. „Mein geiler Hengst, fick mich!“ Ihre Fotze zog sich um meinen Schwanz zusammen, als es ihr kam. „Mein Gott!“ rief sie und zuckte in meinen Armen.

„Oh Gott“, stöhnte ich und schoss mein Sperma in mein Fohlen.

Ich hielt sie fest und wog sie in meinen Armen. Ihre Muschi hielt meinen schrumpfenden Schwanz fest. Ich küsste ihre Schulter und ihren Hals. Meine Hand rutschte wieder nach oben und ich fand erneut ihre Brust. Sanft massierte ich ihre Titte. „Ich liebe dich“ flüsterte Mary schläfrig. Ich küsste sie auf die Wange, drückte ihre Brust und flüsterte zurück: „Ich liebe dich!“ Meine Augen schlossen sich und ich schlief wieder ein, während ich noch in meiner Geliebten steckte.

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

Es wurde leise an die Tür geklopft und Mary bewegte sich in meinen Armen. „Hallo?“ fragte Mary schläfrig.

„Meister, Herrin, wir haben hier ein Frühstück“, sagte Allison leise. „Dürfen wir hereinkommen?“

Ich wischte eine Strähne von Marys Haar aus ihrem Gesicht und küsste sie. Sie lächelte. „Guten Morgen, Liebling.“

„Guten Morgen, Mare.“ Ich drückte sie und küsste sie noch einmal. „Die letzte Nacht war toll!“

„Sie war toll“, schnurrte Mary und küsste mich. Dann lächelte sie entschuldigend. „Sorry, ich muss mal dringend pinkeln.“

„Ok“, sagte ich und ließ sie los. Sie sprang aus dem Bett und ich erhaschte einen Blick auf ihren nackten Arsch, als sie durch das Zimmer lief und im Bad verschwand.

An der Tür klopfte es noch einmal. „Meister, Herrin, dürfen wir hereinkommen“, fragte Allison ein zweites Mal. „Wir haben ein Frühstück.“

Ich rieb mir den Schlaf aus den Augen und setzte mich im Bett auf. „Ja, kommt rein.“

Allison und Desiree kam in das Zimmer. Sie trugen silberne Tabletts. Auf jedem Tablett standen ein Glas Orangensaft und Teller mit Toast, pochierten Eiern und Schinkenstreifen. Beide Mädchen waren nackt, so wie sich das für guten Schlampen gehört. Allison hatte den geschmeidigen Körper eines Teenagers. Ihr Haar war rosa gefärbt. Ihre Brüste waren groß und fest, ihre Nippel waren mit silbernen Piercings verziert. Ihre Muschi war rasiert und hatte ein zusätzliches Tattoo. Desiree war eine reife Frau Ende Zwanzig. Ihre Haut war braun, Zeugnis ihrer Hispanischen Herkunft, üppig und kurvig. Sie hatte einen hübschen runden Po. Ihre Brüste waren groß und voll und sie schwangen hin und her, wenn sie ging. Dunkle rosafarbene Nippel erhoben sich stolz von großen Brustwarzen. Auch ihre Muschi war rasiert und zeigte ihre großen heraus stehenden Schamlippen.

Desiree stellte ihr Tablett auf meinem Nachttischchen ab, während Allison um das Bett herumging und Marys Tablett auf dem anderen abstellte. Im Bad wurde die Spülung betätigt und dann kam Mary wieder. Sie war genauso nackt wie die beiden Schlampen. Sie hatte die kleinsten Brüste der drei Frauen. Sie waren mit Sommersprossen bedeckt. Ihr Gesicht war herzförmig und hatte ebenfalls Sommersprossen, und sie hatte die süßesten Grübchen auf der Welt, wenn sie lächelte. Ihre Muschi war gewachst. Nur oberhalb hatte sie einen herzförmigen kleinen Busch stehen lassen.

„Oh Herrin, du bist geblieben!“ sagte Allison und warf ihre Arme um Mary. Mary drückte sie auch und küsste sie leicht. Allison rieb ihren Körper an Mary und ihre Küsse wurden leidenschaftlicher.

Ich nahm mir eine Scheibe Speck und schob sie mir in den Mund. Ich winkte Desiree zu mir heran und sie schob ihren reifen Körper an meine Seite. Ihre großen Titten ergossen sich über meine Brust. Ich schlang einen Arm um sie und küsste sie auf den Mund. Ich schmeckte Muschi. Ein Bild von Desiree zwischen Allisons Beinen erschien in meinem Kopf. Ihre Schenkel teilten sich und ihre nasse Möse rieb sich an meiner Hüfte. Ihre Hand griff nach meinem Schwanz und sie wichste ihn vorsichtig.

„Ist sie nicht wunderschön?“ flüsterte ich zu Desiree, Desiree murmelte etwas und leckte an meinem Hals. „Sie wird geil“, sagte ich zu Desiree. Ich sah, wie Marys Hand nach Allisons Hüfte griff und dann zu ihrem Arsch herunter glitt. Allison küsste Marys Hals und rieb ihre Fotze an Marys. Ich sah gerne zu, wenn es Mädchen miteinander trieben. Mein Schwanz war hart in Desirees Hand. Ich kniff ihr in den runden Arsch und sagte; „Steig auf meinen Schwanz.“

„Ja, mi Rey!“ sagte sie. Ich war mir nicht sicher, was „mi Rey“ bedeutete, aber es klang sexy. Sie stieg auf meinen Schoß und ihre großen Brüste schwangen in mein Gesicht. Ich saugte an einem der dicken Nippel und Desiree stöhnte. Ihre Hände griffen nach meinem Schwanz und führten ihn zu ihrer nassen Möse. Oh verdammt, es fühlte sich so geil an, als sie sich langsam auf meinem Schwanz aufspießte. Sie stöhnte. Dann fickte sie mich langsam, erhob sich ein wenig und ließ sich dann wieder herunter. Ihre Fotze saugte meinen Schwanz geradezu herein.

„Du bist so groß!“ stöhnte Desiree, „Mi hombre hermoso!“

Desiree drückte ihren Rücken durch und sie fickte mich fester. Ihre Titten hüpften vor mir. Ich fuhr mit meiner Hand an ihrem Schenkel nach oben und fasste ihre Hüfte an. Sie bewegte ihre Hüften immer schneller auf meinem Schwanz und stöhnte dabei lustvoll. Ich griff nach einer vollen Brust und fand einen harten Nippel. Hinter Desiree konnte ich sehen, wie Mary an der Wand lehnte. Allisons Gesicht war in ihrem Muff. Marys kleine mit Sommersprossen bedeckten Titten hoben und senkten sich voller Begierde.

„Oh verdammt“, stöhnte Mary und bewegte sich auf Allisons Gesicht. „Oh verdammt, ich komme!“

Ich schloss meine Augen und genoss das tolle Gefühl von Desirees Fotze auf meinem Schwanz. Die Matratze knarrte und bewegte sich, als jemand auf das Bett kletterte. Ich öffnete meine Augen und sah Mary, die sich an mich ankuschelte. Ihr Körper war von ihrem Orgasmus noch ganz erhitzt. Sie küsste meinen Hals und ihre Hand spielte mit meinem Brusthaar. Allison kletterte hinter Desiree auf das Bett und drückte ihren Körper gegen ihren Rücken. Sie küsste Desirees Schulter und Allison fing an, ihre Fotze an Desirees Arsch zu reiben, während diese mich noch weiter ritt.

„Das ist ja vielleicht geil!“ stöhnte ich, als Allison ihre Arme um Desiree schlang und eine ihrer schweren Brüste mit einer Hand umfing. Die andere Hand ließ sie nach unten rutschen, um mit ihrem Kitzler zu spielen.

„Bist du gleich soweit?“ flüsterte Mary. „Spritzt du gleich deinen Saft in die Fotze von dieser dreckigen Hure?“ Sie leckte mein Ohr und ihre Hand fuhr an meiner Brust nach unten und über meinen Bauch. Dann fing sie an, mit meinem Schamhaar zu spielen.

„Yo estoy correrse!“ stöhnte Desiree auf Spanisch. Sie zuckte auf mir und ihre Fotze verkrampfte sich auf meinem Schwanz, als es der Schlampe kam. Ich grunzte und schoss mein Sperma tief in Desirees Muschi.

Mary küsste mich auf die Lippen, als Desiree von mir herunter rollte. „Ist es dir gut gekommen?“ fragte sie mich. Ich murmelte ein Ja und erwiderte ihren Kuss. Desiree fing an zu stöhnen, als Allison anfing, ihr wie eine gute Schlampe mein Sperma aus der Fotze zu lutschen. Mary schlug auf Allisons Arsch. „Macht euch vom Acker, ihr beiden Schlampen!“

„Ja, Herrin“, sagte Allison. Ihr Gesicht war mit meinem Sperma verklebt. Sie zog Desiree aus dem Zimmer.

Wir lagen im Bett und fütterten uns gegenseitig mit Speckstreifen und Toast und wir träufelten Sirup auf unsere Körper, den wir anschließend wieder ableckten. Ich war der Meinung, dass es sexy war, Mary Sirup von der Titte zu lecken, aber als sie das auch bei mir machte, fand ich das noch viel erregender. Dann küssten wir und blieben mit unseren Lippen aneinander kleben. Mit vollem Bauch kuschelten wir noch eine ganze Weile. Ich streichelte meiner Mary das Haar und Wärme durchströmte meinen Körper. Ich war glücklich. Ich wollte, dass es ewig so mit uns beiden bleiben sollte.

Leider hatte meine Blase andere Ideen.

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

Nachdem ich mit Mary gemeinsam geduscht hatte und nachdem wir uns unter der Dusche wieder geliebt hatten, zogen wir die Kleidung an, die Allison oder Desiree für uns bereitgelegt hatten. Mary zog ein rotes Spitzenhöschen an und ein weißes Korsett mit einem kurzen Rock. Das Korsett und der Rock mussten aus dem Laden gewesen sein, in dem ich meinen Schwanz an der Kasse tief in der Fotze der Verkäuferin gehabt hatte. Sie sah in dem Outfit geil und billig aus. Zuletzt legte sie den herzförmigen Anhänger an, den ich für sie gefunden hatte. Er lag genau auf ihrem Dekolletee. Für mich hatten die Schlampen eine gestreifte Boxershorts und Bluejeans und ein weiß blau gestreiftes Polohemd hingelegt.

Mary ging durch die Schiebetür und setzte sich auf einen Sessel auf dem Balkon. Ich ging zu ihr und kuschelte mich an sie. Dann schauten wir auf den schneebedeckten Gipfel des Mount Rainier. Der Berg war so schön wie immer. Sein Gipfel wurde von ein paar kleinen weißen Wolken eingehüllt.

Nach einem Moment der Stille fragte Mary: „Was muss ich tun, um den Teufel herbeizurufen?“

„Wir brauchen eine Schachtel“, sagte ich. „Und ein sexy Foto von dir.“

„Muss es sexy sein?“ fragte Mary überrascht.

„Jedes Foto von dir ist sexy“, sagte ich und rieb ihren Schenkel. „Besonders, wenn du solche Sachen anhast.“ Ich schaute auf ihr Korsett. Mary bewegte sich und schob ihre Titten nach vorne. Ein zufriedenes Lächeln spielte auf ihren Lippen.

„Und das ist alles? Eine Schachtel und ein sexy Foto?“

„Nein, dann brauchst du noch Schafgarbe und …“ Mary unterbrach mich. „Schafgarbe?“

„Das ist eine kleine weiße Blume. Wir können sie im Baumarkt bekommen. Und dann brauchen wir noch Erde vom Friedhof.“ Mary zog ihre Augenbrauen hoch. „Und dann noch einen Knochen von einer schwarzen Katze.“

Mary blinzelte überrascht. „Einen Knochen? Willst du damit sagen, dass du ein Kätzchen getötet hast?“ fragte Mary mich anklagend. Und sie schlug auf meinen Arm.

Ich rutschte ein wenig hin und her. „Ja“, sagte ich und räusperte mich.

Mary schluckte. „Muss ich also auch eine Katze umbringen?“

Ich schüttelte den Kopf. „Nein, ich habe, ähm, noch was übrig.“ Mary entspannte sich zwar, aber sie sah noch immer ziemlich besorgt aus. Ich drückte ihren Oberschenkel. „Das wird schon gehen.“

Sie atmete tief ein. „Okay, dann müssen wir also noch einmal einkaufen gehen.“

Unsere Schlampen machten Hausputz. Sie waren immer noch nackt. Ich sagte Desiree, dass sie mit Allison sexy Outfits für Hausmädchen kaufen sollten, die sie im Haus tragen sollten und außerdem die provozierendsten und nuttigsten Outfits, die sie beide außerhalb des Hauses tragen sollten. Desiree nahm ihr eigenes Auto, einen 3er BMW und benutzte die Kreditkarten ihres Mannes. Mary sagte ihr außerdem, dass sie in einen Sexshop gehen und ein paar Dildos kaufen sollten, auch welche zum Umschnallen. Ein Bild, wie Mary einen Umschnall-Dildo trug und Allison oder Desiree damit fickte, kam in meinem Kopf hoch und ich lächelte. Mary sah mein Lächeln und lächelte mich verdorben an. Dann gab sie den Schlampen noch eine Liste mit Künstlerbedarf, den sie sich von den beiden mitbringen lassen wollte. Mary war Künstlerin. Sie besuchte die De-Vry-Universität, um dort einen Abschluss in Graphikdesign zu machen.

Ich nahm meine Schlüssel, meine Geldbörse und meinen Camcorder und Mary nahm ihre Tasche und wir verließen das Haus und stiegen in den Mustang. Der Motor erwachte zum Leben und ich raste aus der Nachbarschaft. Ich war mein ganzes Leben zu schnell gefahren, ich wusste also, wie ich mit dem Auto umgehen musste. Mary hielt sich am „Oh-Scheiße-Griff“ fest. Ich hatte keine Ahnung, wofür der Handgriff oberhalb des Sitzes eigentlich da war, aber im Moment erfüllte er jedenfalls einen Zweck. Man kann sich daran festhalten, wenn der Fahrer die Kurven ein bisschen sehr schnell nimmt und man „Oh Scheiße“ ruft und man betet, dass dein Freund dich mit seiner Fahrweise nicht umbringt.

Mary stieß mich an. „Verdammt, du wirst uns noch umbringen!“ Sie war zornig, also fuhr ich ein wenig langsamer, nur noch dreißig über der Geschwindigkeitsbegrenzung und das beruhigte sie ein wenig.

Wir erreichten Lowes. Dieses Lowes hatte im letzten Jahr eröffnet. Es lag direkt gegenüber vom alten Lowes. Ich parkte das Auto und wir gingen durch den Laden in das warme Gewächshaus, das seitlich davon lag. In der Luft schwebte der süßliche Duft von Blumen und der Geruch von Dünger.

Ich schaute durch die Reihen mit den Blumen und suchte nach der Schafgarbe, die ich in der vergangenen Woche hier gekauft hatte. Da stieß Mary mich an. Sie zeigte auf das Ende der Reihe. Dort standen zwei wunderschöne eineiige 15 Jahre alte Zwillinge. Sie waren beide blond. Eine hatte kurzes Haar, die andere trug einen Zopf. Die Kurzhaarige trug eine Shorts, die an ihrem knabenhaften Körper eng anlag und ein rosafarbenes Top, das ihre festen Brüste gut zur Geltung brachte. Die mit dem Zopf hatte eine blaue Bluse an und einen dunkelblauen Rock. Beide Mädchen hatten fantastische schlanke Beine. Hinter ihnen sahen wir einen Mann und eine Frau, das mussten ihre Eltern sein.

Der Vater war ein großer blonder Mann mit einem durchtrainierten Körper, der ihn jünger aussehen ließ, als ein Mann mit zwei Töchtern im Teenageralter aussehen sollte. Und seine Frau war eine umwerfenden brünette Granate. Sie trug ein enges rotes Oberteil mit einem Fischgrätenmuster. Ihre Brüste füllten das Oberteil schön aus. Dazu trug sie eine enge Jeans, die wie eine zweite Haut an ihrem kurvigen Körper anlag.

„Was meinst du?“ fragte ich Mary.

„Mmmm, ich werde mir die Frau nehmen und du kannst die Töchter haben“, schnurrte Mary. „Ich will an diesen Titten lutschen. Die sind so groß wie die von Desiree.“

Ich führte Mary den Gang entlang. „Hi“, grüßte ich und schüttelte dem Vater die Hand. “Ich bin Mark und das hier ist Mary.“

„Ich heiße Cathy Cunningham“, sagte die Ehefrau. „Das hier ist mein Mann Jim.“ Jim grunzte, das hätte eine Begrüßung sein können. „Er ist immer ein bisschen schüchtern. Das hier sind unsere Töchter Daisy und Rose“, fuhr Cathy fort. Die Kurzhaarige war Daisy und die mit dem Zopf hieß Rose. „Es ist jetzt viel einfach, sie auseinander zu halten, wo sie Teenager sind“, witzelte Cathy. „Als sie noch kleiner waren, haben sie immer dieselben Sachen angehabt.“

Die beiden Mädchen wurden rot und schauten ihre Mutter wütend an. „Mama!“ riefen beide.

„Du hast zwei wunderschöne Töchter“, sagte ich. „Mary und ich würden sehr gerne mal ihre Tittchen sehen.“

Die beiden Mädchen erröteten noch mehr. „Los Mädchen“, sagte die Mutter. „Zeigt ihnen eure Tittchen.“ Jim schaute sein Frau erschrocken an, aber er unternahm nichts.

Ich nahm meinen Camcorder und filmte, wie Daisy ihr Top auszog und Rose anfing, ihre Bluse aufzuknöpfen. Daisys BH war weiß und hatte einen kleinen rosafarbenen Strich unter den Körbchen. Sie griff nach hinten und öffnete den BH. Ich sah Daisys feste kleine Brüste, während Rose noch immer mit den Knöpfen an ihrer Bluse kämpfte. Schließlich hatte sie es auch geschafft und ihr BH stellte sich als aus Spitze heraus. Er war purpurfarben und hatte seine Schließe vorne. Ihre Titten quollen heraus, als sie sie öffnete.

„Sind das nicht prächtige Titten?“ fragte ich. Mary leckte ihre Lippen.

„Oh ihr beiden Süßen. Die sind wirklich ganz toll“, stöhnte die Mutter.

„Ja“, stammelte Jim. „Sie sind ganz wundervoll.“

Beide Mädchen wurden wieder rot. Aber dann verloren sie langsam ihre Hemmungen, vor Fremden ihre Brüste zu zeigen und sie nahmen gewisse Posen ein, um ihre Titten noch besser zur Geltung zu bringen.

„Heilige Scheiße“, sagte ein Mann hinter uns. Scheiße, ich hatte völlig vergessen, den Gartenbereich zu sichern. Ein Angestellter von Lowes mit einer grünen Gartenschürze starrte die beiden Teenager an. Sein Namensschildchen wies ihn als Victor aus.

„Victor, du schließt jetzt das Gartenzentrum und sagst allen, dass es hier einen Wasserrohrbruch gegeben hat“, bellte ich. „Ja Sir“, schluckte Victor und er verschwand, um meinen Befehl auszuführen.

„Ihr könntet doch eigentlich auch eure Unterteile ausziehen“, schlug Mary vor und sie runzelte die Stirn, als die Teenager ihr nicht gehorchten.

„Jeder tut das, was Mary sagt“, sagte ich. „Also Mädchen, ausziehen. Wir wollen euch nackt sehen.“

„Ja“, grunzte der Vater. Sein Schwanz machte eine Beule in seiner Hose.

Die Mädchen zogen ihre Turnschuhe aus und ihre weißen Söckchen. Daisy schälte sich aus ihrer engen Hose und Rose fand den Reißverschluss ihres Rocks. Diesmal war sie die schnellere der beiden Schwestern. Ihr Rock fiel auf ihre Füße und dann folgte ihr purpurfarbenes Höschen. Wir sahen ihren blonden Muff. Daisy hatte es schließlich auch geschafft und zog jetzt ihr Minnie-Maus-Höschen aus. Sie war glattrasiert. Ihr Schlitz war eng und mädchenhaft.

Mary glitt hinter Cathy und drückte sich an sie. „Entspann dich!“ flüsterte Mary Cathy ins Ohr. Dann fing sie an, ihr das Sommerkleid nach oben über den Körper zu ziehen. Für eine Frau, die bereits zwei Kinder geboren hatte, war sie in erstaunlicher Form. Ein flacher Bauch, kurvige Hüften und große Brüste in einem blauen trägerlosen BH. Ein blauer String bedeckte ihre Muschi. Mary fing an, ihren Hals zu küssen und die wundervollen Brüste quollen heraus, als sie die Schließe des BHs öffnete. Cathys Nippel hatten dieselbe Farbe wie die ihrer Töchter.

„Daisy, Rose, habt ihr es schon mal mit einem Mädchen gemacht?“ fragte ich die Zwillinge, während ich die jungen Körper filmte.

„Du meinst, lesbisch?“ fragte Rose. Daisy nickte eifrig. „Das machen wir sehr gerne. Mit allen unseren Freundinnen.“

„Was?“ keuchte Cathy, als Marys Hand gerade in ihren Schlüpfer glitt. „Ich dachte, ihr Mädchen hättet noch keinen Sex.“

Rose rollte ihre Augen. „Das ist doch kein Sex, Mama. Wenn ein Junge dir seinen Schwanz in das Fötzchen steckt, das ist Sex.“

Ich schaute beide Teenager nacheinander an. „Habt ihr es schon einmal miteinander gemacht?“

Beide Gesichter zeigten Ekel. „Wir sind doch Schwestern!“ sagte Rose. „Das ist ja ekelhaft.“

„Sag deinen Töchtern, dass du sie miteinander ficken sehen willst“, sagte Mary zu Cathy. Sie fickte jetzt Cathys Fotze unter dem String mit ihrem Finger.

„Oh, ihr Babys, treibt es mal für Mama miteinander!“ stöhnte Cathy.

Die Mädchen schauten auf ihren Vater, der seinen Schwanz durch seine Jeans rieb. „Oh Mädchen, ihr seid so wundervoll!“

Rose schaute ihre Schwester an und spielte mit ihrem Zopf. „Daisy, ich habe es mir schon gemacht, während ich an dich gedacht habe“, gab sie zu und ihr Gesicht wurde wieder rot.

Daisy quietschte auf und sprang ihre Schwester an. Sie küsste sie über und über. Zwischen den Küssen sagte sie: „Und ich habe mit meiner Knospe gespielt und dabei an dich gedacht!“

Mein Schwanz war hart. Ich sah zu, wie die Zwillinge miteinander schmusten und wie sie ihre Brüste gegeneinander drückten. Ihre Hände fuhren an ihren jungen Körpern auf und ab. Sie fassten feste Ärsche und stramme Titten an. Ihre Zungen erkundeten ihre Münder. Ihre Oberschenkel teilten sich und jedes Mädchen schob ein Bein in den Schoß des anderen. Roses Fotze rieb sich an Daisys Schenkel und Daisys rieb sich an Roses. Beide stöhnten und rieben sich an der Schwester, während sich die Orgasmen aufbauten.

Mary hatte sich inzwischen ausgezogen und sie saugte an Cathys runden Titten. Sie trug nur noch ihren roten String. Mary küsste sich an Cathys festem Bauch nach unten und kniete sich vor ihr hin. Sie griff nach Cathys blauem String und zog ihn nach unten. Ein kleiner Busch aus braunem Haar wurde sichtbar. Cathy keuchte und zuckte, als Marys Zunge sich in ihrer Schnalle vergrub. „Oh Wow!“ stöhnte Cathy. „Oh wow! Das ist … toll!“

„Siehst du, Mama“, keuchte Daisy. „Es macht Spaß mit Mädchen!“

„Da hast du recht“, stöhnte Cathy.

Daisys Arsch spannte sich an, als sie ihre Fotze am Bein ihrer Schwester rieb. „Oh Rosie, mir kommt es gleich!“ Die beiden Zwillingen zuckten aneinander, sie stöhnte und sie küssten sich. Dann kam es beiden. „Wow, das hätten wir schon vor Jahren machen können“, murmelte Daisy. Ihre Schwester nickte nur.

„Welches der Mädchen willst du ficken?“ fragte ich Jim.

„Ich…“, fing Jim an. Er starrte auf seine minderjährigen Töchter.

Ich nickte. „Ich verstehe. Wie kannst du dich auch entscheiden. Schließlich liebst du deine beiden Töchter. Also, dann entjungfere ich Daisy und du nimmst dir Rose vor.“ Ich streckte meine Hand aus und Daisy nahm sie. Ich führte sie etwa einen Meter zur Seite. Sie küsste mich und ihr Mund war heiß und ihre Zunge spielte mit meiner Zunge.

Jim schluckte. „Kay!“ stammelte er. Er öffnete seine Hose und holte einen großen Schwanz heraus. Dann stolperte er auf seine Tochter zu. „Oh, Papa! Ist der für mich?“ fragte Rose und starrte gierig auf den Schwanz.

Daisy rieb meinen Schwanz durch meine Hose. Dann machte sie sie auf und holte meinen Schwanz heraus. Sie rieb ihn sanft. Ich fuhr mit meiner Hand von ihrer Hüfte nach oben, an ihrer schmalen Seite entlang, bis zu ihrer Titte. Ich nahm sie in die Hand. Daisy stöhnte kehlig, als ich anfing, mit ihrer Brust zu spielen und ihren harten Nippel drückte. Gott, ich musste unbedingt in diese geile Teenager-Schlampe hinein! Ich unterbrach den Kuss und drehte sie um. Dann drückte ich sie gegen einen Tisch. Sie wackelte ein wenig mit ihrem Arsch und ich zog meinen Schwanz durch ihren engen nassen Schlitz.

„Bitte!“ sagte Daisy. „Steck ihn mir rein! Ich bin so nass!“

Ich fand ihre enge Öffnung und schob ihr langsam meinen Schwanz hinein. Meine Eichel war drin, als ich den Widerstand ihres Häutchens spürte. Ich fasste ihre Hüften an und hielt den Camcorder fest, damit ich ihre Entjungferung gut aufnehmen konnte. Dann stieß ich hart zu. Eine Sekunde lang hielt das Häutchen noch, dann riss es und ich steckte tief in ihrer Fotze. Daisy schrie vor Schmerz auf und als ich mich zurückzog, war mein Schwanz rosa gefärbt. Ich stieß langsam wieder hinein und Daisy macht ein weiteres Geräusch, das nach Schmerz klang. Ich griff um sie herum und spielte mit ihren Nippeln und ganz allmählich wurden die Schmerzenslaute zu Lustgeräuschen.

Jim lag auf dem Boden. Rose lag auf ihm und schmuste mit ihrem Vater, während sie seinen Schwanz an ihrer Muschi rieb. Dann erhob sie sich ein wenig, griff nach dem Schwanz ihres Vaters und zielte damit auf ihre Muschi. Sie ließ sich langsam auf den Schwanz hinunter. Sie machte eine Pause, als er ihr Häutchen erreichte, dann stieß sie nach unten, das Häutchen gab nach und sie sank mit einem schmerzhaften Stöhnen ganz auf ihren Vater hinunter. Sie blieb eine Weile sitzen und keuchte, während sie sich an die Ausmaße des Schwanzes in ihrer jungen Fotze gewöhnte. Dann erhob sie sich wieder und rutschte anschließend wieder nach unten. Langsam fing sie an, ihren Vater zu reiten.

„Oh Rosie“, stöhnte Jim. „Oh Gott, bist du eng! Verdammt, ist das geil!“

„Papa, Papa“, keuchte Rose. Sie ritt ihn jetzt schneller. „Ich liebe dich, Papa!“

„Fickt diese beiden kleinen Huren!“ stöhnte Cathy. „Fickt meine beiden kleinen Babys! Fickt ihre verdorbenen Fotzen! Oh Gott, ich bin da! Gott, ich komme!“ Sie zuckte auf Marys Gesicht, als es ihr großartig kam. Mary stand auf, schob ihr rotes Höschen nach unten und zog dann Cathy mit sich nach unten. Beide machten einen 69er. Daisy stöhnte jetzt ohne Pause, während ich anfing, sie hart durchzuziehen. Ihre Fotze klemmte meinen Schwanz geradezu ein, als es ihr kam. Ich fickte sie weiter und zupfte an ihrem Nippel. Dabei filmte ich, wie mein mit rosa Schmiere bedeckter Schwanz immer wieder in ihre Muschi fuhr. Sei zuckte mir heftig entgegen, als es ihr ein zweites Mal kam. Ihre seidige Fotze molk meinen Schwanz so schön, dass ich mich nicht mehr zurückhalten konnte und ihr meinen Saft in die Fotze spritzte. Ich atmete schwer und ruhte mich in ihrer kleinen Fotze ein wenig aus. Dabei beobachtete ich die beiden anderen Paare.

Mary und Cathy wanden sich auf dem Gesicht der jeweils anderen. Sie stöhnten und leckten sich gegenseitig und fickten einander mit den Fingern. Rose hüpfte heftig auf ihrem Vater. Ihre festen Titten schwangen hin und her. „Oh Papa“, stöhnte Rose. „Schieß deinen Saft in meine Muschi!“ Sie wand sich, als es ihr kam. Dann fiel sie nach vorne auf die Brust ihres Vaters. Sie küsste ihn, als sein Schwanz, der von rosafarbenem Schaum bedeckt war, aus ihrer der Fotze rutschte und weißes Sperma aus ihrem engen Schlitz sickerte.

Wir beobachteten nun alle vier, wie Mary und Cathy sich gegenseitig die Mösen leckten. Mary lag oben und ihr Arsch wand sich auf Cathys Gesicht. Cathy griff danach und zog sie auf ihr Gesicht herunter. Mary hatte zwei Finger in Cathys Fotze und sie winkelte sie an, um nach ihrem G-Punkt zu suchen. Cathy zuckte unter ihr, also hatte Mary ihn offenbar gefunden. Cathy fickte ihr Gesicht in Marys Fotze und Mary verkrampfte sich, als es ihr auf Cathys Gesicht kam.

Mary rollte von Cathy herunter. Cathy stand unsicher auf. Sie schaute zu Daisy und dann zu Rose hinüber und lächelte. „Jetzt sind meine kleinen Mädchen Frauen“, sagte sie. Sie öffnete ihre Arme. „Kommt her, Mädchen!“

Rose stand auf und stolperte auf ihre Mutter zu. Ich zog mich mit einem schmatzenden Geräusch aus Daisy zurück und sie ging zu ihrer Mutter hinüber. Cathy umarmte beide Mädchen und zog sie an sich. Sie küsste Daisy und dann Rose auf die Lippen. Cathy wurde gegen die Wand gedrückt und die beiden kleinen scharfen Bräute schlangen jeweils ihre Beine um eines der Beine ihrer Mutter und fingen an, ihre mit Sperma verschmierten Fotzen an den Schenkeln ihrer Mutter zu reiben.

„Oh ja, macht es mit eurer Mama!“ stöhnte Cathy.

„Weißt du noch, wie wir das mit Sally gemacht haben?“ fragte Rose ihre Schwester.

Daisy kicherte verdorben. „Ja! Ich weiß heute noch nicht, wie wir alle drei in die Toilette reingepasst haben. Aber es war sehr geil! Anschließend hatten wir Englisch.“

„Du warst so nahe an mir dran“, stöhnte Rose. „Und ich hatte Angst, das hier zu machen.“ Sie streckte ihre Hand aus und legte sie auf den Arsch ihrer Schwester. Sie drückte leicht die Arschbacke und lehnte sich dann vor, um sie zu küssen. Die beiden Schwestern beendeten ihren Kuss und ein Strang Speichel verband ihre Lippen noch einen Moment. Beide grinsten und setzten ihre Lippen nun auf die Titten ihrer Mutter. Sie saugten an den harten Nippeln.

„Oh, meine Babys“, stöhnte Cathy. Sie drückte beide an sich, während sie sich noch an ihren Schenkeln rieben. „Das habt ihr schon so lange nicht mehr gemacht!“

Jim hatte sich auf seine Arme gestützt und beobachtete, wie seine Töchter und seine Frau Liebe machten. Ich sah, wie Mary Jims Schwanz anstarrte. Sie leckte ihre Lippen und ging dann zu ihm hinüber. Mir blieb vor Überraschung der Mund offen stehen. Ich hatte Mary doch befohlen, nur Frauen und mich zu begehren. Warum war sie jetzt hinter Jim her?

Na, ich hatte sie doch in der letzten Nacht befreit.

Ich wollte protestieren, aber Mary warf mir einen warnenden Blick zu, als sie sich auf Jims senkte. Sie hockte über seinen Hüften. Jetzt waren wir gleich. Es war für Mary okay, mich mit anderen Frauen zu sehen. Und es musste jetzt für mich auch okay sein, Mary mit anderen Männern zu sehen. In meinem Bauch spürte ich Angst. Was, wenn sie seinen Schwanz mehr mochte als meinen. Ich schluckte, als Jims Schwanz langsam in ihrer Fotze versank.

Mary sah mich an und lächelte. Ich entspannte mich. In ihren Augen war Liebe. Sie griff hinter sich und zog ihre Arschbacken auseinander. Ihr Arschloch blinzelte mich an. Ich ging hinter sie und mein Schwanz fand ihr Arschloch. Ich stieß in ihre samtige Wärme hinein. Mary stöhnte auf, als ich meinen Schwanz in ihrem Arschloch versenkte. Eine Hand legte ich um sie und fasste ihre kleine Brust an.

„Danke“, flüsterte Mary. Sie schaute mich über die Schulter an und küsste mich. „Ich liebe dich!“

„Ich liebe dich auch, Mare“, flüsterte ich und fing an, sie in den Arsch zu ficken.

Mary fing an, ihre Hüften zu bewegen und ich spürte, wie Jims Schwanz ihre Möse fickte. Wir brauchten ein paar Momente, bis wir alle drei den richtigen Rhythmus gefunden hatten. Aber dann funktionierte es tadellos. Ich glitt in ihrem Arsch aus und ein, während sie Jims Schwanz ritt. Es war für mich sehr erregend, dass ein anderer Schwanz in Marys Möse war. Mary stöhnte immer wieder: „Fick meinen Arsch! Fick meine Möse! Ich bin so dicht davor! Fickt mich, ihr beiden Hengste!“ Mein Orgasmus näherte sich und ich fing an, ihren Arsch richtig hart zu ficken. Dann spürte ich, wie sich ihr Arschloch um meinem Schwanz zusammenzog, als es ihr kam. Ich grunzte und schoss ihr meine Ladung in die Eingeweide.

Ich stolperte zurück und mein Schwanz rutschte aus ihrem Arsch. Ein kleiner Bach weißes Sperma folgte. Jim war noch nicht gekommen, er hatte schließlich vorher schon gespritzt und er hatte nicht mein Stehvermögen. Mary fing an, seinen Schwanz richtig hart zu reiten. Ich sah zu Cathy und ihren Töchtern hinüber. Beide Mädchen rieben sich total intensiv auf ihren Schenkeln. Alle drei küssten sich immer wieder und lutschten sich gegenseitig die Nippel und drückten ihre Ärsche. Rose kam es auf dem Schenkel ihrer Mutter. Sie schüttelte sich vor Lust. Sie küsste ihre Mutter und fuhr dann fort, sich an ihr zu reiben.

Ich hatte Daisy schon gehabt und wollte jetzt Rose. Ich ging hinter sie, mein Schwanz war hart, und ich fand ihr Arschloch. Sie keuchte vor Schmerz auf, als ich ihn ihr langsam reinschob. Neben ihr zuckte gerade Daisy auch und bedeckte den Schenkel ihrer Mutter mit ihrem Fotzensaft. Ich fickte Roses Arsch hart und drückte sie auf ihre Mutter. „Fick sie in den Arsch“, stöhnte Daisy und schlug mir auf den Hintern. „Nimm sie dir richtig vor, du Hengst!“

Mary stöhnte jetzt laut. Das bedeutete, dass es ihr wieder kam. Jim grunzte und ich wusste, dass er jetzt seinen Saft in ihre Fotze schoss. „Daisy, lutsch das Sperma aus Marys Arsch und aus ihrer Fotze“, sagte ich und schlug ihr auch auf den Hintern.

„Oh verdammt“, stöhnte Mary, als Daisy ihre Arschbacken spreizte und mein Sperma aus ihrem Arsch lutschte.

Nun, da Daisy weg war, konnte sich Cathy auch an Roses Oberschenkel reiben. Roses Arsch umschloss meinen Schwanz ganz eng und sie fing an, ihre Mutter leidenschaftlich zu küssen. Cathys Hand kam herum und sie fand meine Eier und drückte sie leicht. Mary lag jetzt auf dem Rücken in einem 69er mit Daisy. Sie leckte mein Sperma aus Daisys Fotze, während diese gleichzeitig das Sperma ihres Vaters aus Marys Fotze leckte. Jim lag auf dem Boden. Er atmete schwer und schaute seiner Familie beim Ficken zu.

Alle stöhnten und keuchten und näherten sich ihren Orgasmen. Cathy saugte an der Zunge ihrer Tochter, während es Rose kam und zwischen Cathy und mir zuckte. Cathy zuckte auf dem Schenkel ihrer Tochter und massierte meine Eier und sie keuchte, als es ihr auch kam. Ihre Hände drückten vorsichtig meinen Saft aus meinen Eiern. Ich grunzte und schoss meine Ladung in den Arsch des Teenagers. Auf dem Boden rollten Mary und Daisy herum, als es ihnen beiden auch kam. Beide überfluteten gegenseitig ihre Münder mit ihrem Fotzenschleim.

Mary und ich verließen die Cunninghams. Sie küssten einander und halfen sich beim Anziehen. Ich sagte der Familie noch, dass sie sich weiterhin ficken sollte und Daisy sagte ihrem Vater, dass sie geil auf seinen Schwanz war. Mary zog sich ihr weißes Korsett an und fand auch ihr rotes Höschen. Sie hielt es hoch. Pflanzerde war darauf geraten und hatte Flecken gemacht.

„Dann musst du wohl ohne gehen“, sagte ich grinsend. Bei dem kurzen Rock musste sie sich jetzt ganz besonders vorsehen, sonst könnte jemand einen Blick auf ihren Arsch oder auf ihre Fotze erhaschen.

Wir fanden die Schafgarbe und wollten den Laden verlassen. Ein Angestellter wollte uns aufhalten, aber ich sagte ihm, dass wir bereits bezahlt hatten und er wünschte uns noch einen schönen Tag. Ich öffnete den Mustang mit meiner Fernbedienung und wir stiegen ein. Mary lehnte sich zu mir und küsste mich. „Danke, dass du mir vertraut hast“, sagte sie.

„Ich habe erkannt, dass ich dich andere Männer ficken lassen muss, wenn ich andere Frauen ficke“, sagte ich.

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

Nachdem wir den Laden verlassen hatten, wollte Mary noch Schuhe einkaufen. Mary brauchte noch eine Schachtel, sagte sie. Aber schließlich hatte sie zehn verschiedene Paare ausgesucht. Von Sneakers bis zu Schuhen mit extrem hohen Absätzen. Wir gingen auf den nächsten Friedhof. Mary nahm eine Handvoll Erde und warf sie in die Schachtel und wir gingen wieder. Die Katzenknochen hatte ich in meinem Appartement, also fuhren wir nach Parkland. Mein ganzes Appartement war mit Pizzakartons und anderen Müll gefüllt. Mary schaute nur kurz hinein und sagte dann, dass sie draußen warten würde. Ich ging hinein, grub in meiner Küche ein wenig herum und fand den Knochen der schwarzen Katze. Außerdem nahm ich ein paar persönliche Sachen mit und verließ das Appartement wieder. Ich wollte nie wieder zurückkehren. Ihr Foto nahm ich mit meinem Smartphone auf. Ich druckte es bei Walgrens aus. Sie sah sehr sexy aus.

Wir nahmen uns eine Kleinigkeit zum Essen und beschlossen, uns einen Film anzusehen, um die Zeit totzuschlagen. Fast die ganze Zeit saßen wir in der hintersten Reihe und schmusten wie die Teenager miteinander. Danach schlüpften wir in die Herrentoilette und fickten.

Zum Abendessen gingen wir in dieses japanische Steakhaus. Wir hatten eine Menge Spaß, dem Koch bei der Zubereitung der Mahlzeit zuzuschauen. Er wirbelte mit seinen Messern herum und warf Sachen in die Luft. Ein weiteres Pärchen setzte sich an unseren Tisch, offenbar ihre erste Verabredung. Es schien nicht so besonders gut zu laufen, der Typ war ein Langweiler. Mary fing an, mit der Frau zu flirten. Sie hieß Diane und sie ließ ihren Rock so weit hochrutschen, dass Mary ihre Fotze sehen konnte. Diane und Mary gingen gemeinsam zur Toilette, wie Mädchen das gerne tun. Als sie nach einer Weile zurückkehrten, schmeckte ich Dianes Fotze auf Marys Lippen.

Nach dem Abendessen fuhren wir in das Hinterland. Zu genau der gleichen Kreuzung, an der ich vor zwei Nächten auch meinen Pakt mit dem Teufel gemacht hatte. Wir mussten noch ein paar Stunden warten und die Zeit schien sich ewig zu dehnen. Wir lagen im Gras und schauten schweigend in den Himmel. Wir hielten einander in den Armen. Wir waren beide gespannt und zogen aus dem jeweils anderen Stärke. Eine Viertelstunde vor Mitternacht ging der Wecker in meinem Handy los und ich grub das Loch wieder auf, in dem auch meine Schachtel schon lag.

„Letzte Chance, bist du sicher, dass du das willst?“ fragte ich Mary.

Mary atmete tief ein. Die Schachtel in ihrer Hand zitterte. Sie kniete sich hin und legte die Schachtel in das Loch. Sie schien Angst zu haben, die Schachtel loszulassen.

„Du musst das nicht tun“, sagte ich ihr und kniete mich neben sie.

„Doch, ich mach‘s!“ sagte sie und ließ los. Dann bedeckte sie hastig die Schachtel mit der Erde und stand schnell auf. Ich nahm sie in den Arm und sie hielt mich fest. Und wir warteten. Eine Ewigkeit schien zu vergehen und Mary fing an, in meinen Armen zu zittern.

„Vielleicht hat es nicht funktioniert“, flüsterte sie.

„Doch, es hat funktioniert, Mary Sullivan“, kam eine angenehme Stimme aus der Dunkelheit. Wir zuckten beide zusammen, als der Teufel aus dem Schatten hervortrat. Er war ein attraktiver Mann mit scharlachroten Augen. Er hatte den gleichen teuren schwarzen Anzug an, den er schon vor zwei Nächten getragen hatte. Er hatte ein freundliches Lächeln. Er nahm Marys Hand und hob sie an und küsste ihren Handrücken. Ganz wie ein altmodischer Gentleman. „Schön, dich wiederzusehen, Mark Glassner. Die Jungs da unten und ich, wir lieben, was du machst.“

„Danke“, stammelte ich.

„Was kann ich für dich tun, Mary Sullivan?“ fragte der Teufel.

Mary schluckte und dann sagte sie mit wesentlich mehr Zuversicht als ich selber vor zwei Nächten: „Ich möchte drei Wünsche für meine Seele.“

„Natürlich. Nichts lieber als das“, sagte der Teufel in seiner freundlichen entspannenden Art.

„Mein ersten Wunsch ist, dass Mark und ich jung bleiben, gesund und schön, so lange Mark lebt.“ Ich blinzelte überrascht. Mein erster Wunsch war ein gesundes Leben gewesen. Mary war clever genug, dasselbe zu bekommen, nur wollte sie zusätzlich jung und schön leiben. Das heißt, das sollte für uns beide gelten. Ich lächelte sie an. Ganz schön clever!

Der Teufel kicherte. „Sehr gut. Obwohl Mark nicht so schön ist.“

Mary kicherte auch. „Ach, ich weiß nicht. Er hat was!“ Mary umarmte mich ein wenig enger. „Mein zweiter Wunsch ist, dass Mark und ich uns ohne Bedingungen auf ewig lieben.“ Mary schaute mich zögernd an. Offenbar machte sie sich Sorgen, dass ich Einwände hätte. Ich hatte keine. Ich hatte sie ursprünglich mich lieben lassen. Da war es nur fair, dass sie dafür sorgte, dass ich sie nie verlassen würde. Das musste der wahre Grund gewesen sein, warum sie diesen Handel machen wollte. „Und mein letzter Wunsch, ich…“ Sie zögerte und wurde tiefrot. „Ich möchte, dass andere Frauen mich begehren und meinen sexuellen Avancen nicht entrinnen können.“

„In Ordnung“, sagte der Teufel. In seinen Augen stand Verständnis und keine Wertung.

„Du verdorbenes Fohlen“, flüsterte ich und küsste ihre Stirn.

Es gab einen scharlachfarbenen Blitz und gelben Rauch und ein Vertrag erschien in der Hand des Teufels. Ein scharfer Geruch nach Schwefel erfüllte die Luft. „Lies ihn dir durch“, sagte er und gab Mary den Vertrag.

Mary las den Vertrag und nickte. Der Teufel stach ihr mit einer altmodischen Feder in die Fingerspitze. Sie unterschrieb mit ihrem eigenen Blut und dann unterschrieb der Teufel mit seinem Blut. Er rollte den Vertrag zusammen. „Noch irgendwelche Fragen, Mary?“ Sie schüttelte den Kopf.

Es gab eine Pause. Dann schaute der Teufel zu mir und machte ein leicht nachdenkliches Gesicht. Ich fühlte mich wie ein Stück Fleisch und nahm Mary fester in den Arm. Schließlich zog der Teufel einen kleinen roten Kristall aus seiner Tasche und hielt ihn hoch. Der Stein glänzte von innen heraus und tauchte uns alle drei in rotes Licht.
„Wenn du mal ein Problem hast, dann nimm diesen Kristall und sage ‚Lilith, erscheine vor mir‘“, sagte der Teufel. Ich hielt meine Hand auf und er ließ den Stein hineinfallen. „Warum sollte ich…“ wollte ich fragen, aber der Teufel war schon in den Schatten verschwunden. Ich starrte auf den Edelstein und schaute dann besorgt Mary an. „Warum sollte ich den brauchen?“

Mary schloss meine Hand um den Kristall. Ihre Hand fühlte sich auf meiner schön warm an. Sie lächelte mich an. „Keine Ahnung, aber wir werden sicher sehen.“

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

Ich sah, wie die Sterblichen in die Dunkelheit fuhren und schaute Lucifer an. „Warum hast du ihm meinen Namen gegeben?“

„Ich mag ihn, Lilith“, antwortete Lucifer. Er hatte immer noch diesen lächerlichen schwarzen Anzug an.

„Aber warum mein Name!“ wollte ich wissen. „Wenn du deinen Haustieren schon ein Geschenk machen willst, dann lass mich damit zufrieden! Warum nicht Asherah! Sie macht gerne mit den Sterblichen rum, die Schlampe, mit Männern. Oder Chemosh. Der randaliert schon seit Jahrhunderten auf der Welt herum.“

„Die Opposition hat schon seine Witterung aufgenommen“, sagte Lucifer. „Eine Nonne der Magdaleniten ist schon auf dem Weg.“

„Na und?“ fragte ich. Was hatte ich damit zu tun, dass irgendein Hexer blöd genug war, die Aufmerksamkeit der Opposition zu erregen.

Lucifer grinste mich an. „Ich habe doch gesagt, dass ich ihn mag.“

To be continued…

Click here for Kapitel 7

The Devil’s Pact Chapter 38: Shamans

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Chapter 38: Shamans

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2013, 2014


Story Codes: Male/Female, Female/Female, Male/Females, Mind Control, Magic, Oral, Humiliation, Violence, Death

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 37.



Sunday, September 29th, 2013 – Mark Glassner – Tacoma, WA

Sunday passed in a haze of pain.

I woke from the dream with Azrael back into the torment of my battered body. I hauled myself to my feet, ignoring the protest of my muscles, and staggered to the sink accompanied by the clank of my manacles. I bent down and greedily drank the cool water from the tap, bringing momentary relief to the stump of my tongue. My stomach ached and rumbled. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast yesterday, I realized. That seemed like a lifetime ago. I closed my eyes and remembered Mary napping naked on our bed as I quietly slipped out; she had been hugging a pillow, her auburn hair draped about her neck and shoulders. She had looked so beautiful and peaceful; I would give anything – and I mean anything – to see my wife again.

Morning, Mary, I sent to her. We were connected telepathically now by the Siyach spell.

How are you? Mary sent back, her thoughts full of love and concern.

I’ve been better. I tried to keep the pain from bleeding into my sending. Azrael visited me last night. She’s teaching me to use my other powers.

I have a plan, Mark, she sent excitedly, and proceeded to explain. She was flying to France, to steal the Mother Superior’s Gift, to become a Nun and exorcise Brandon. It was so risky, so desperate, but what choice did we have? Killing Brandon was out of the question. He had to have tens of thousands of people under his power by now, all their life-forces bound to him. If he died, they would all die. I could not have so much blood on my hands—or on her hands.

When the soldiers came for me, my body was too sore to fight. Resigned to my fate, I let them drag me off, my manacles clinking. The rest of the day was pain. Never-ending pain. The only thing that I could cling to as they beat me was my wife. My Mary. I pictured her smiling at me; I remembered how beautiful she looked while painting, the day we found out she was pregnant, and the cute way she bit her lip while thinking. I clung to the memory of how radiant she looked on our wedding day, marching down the aisle to me in her white dress set aflame by the setting sun. Mary helped me survive the day by constantly sending her love and encouragement.

She gave me hope. Just knowing she was out there kept me sane.

Sometime during the beatings, in the afternoon I thought, Mary sent, I did it! The Gift is mine! Just hold out a little longer!

After the eternity of suffering, I was dragged back to the prison shower and my filth was hosed off me; then it was back to my cell. The soldiers threw me roughly onto the hard, concrete floor, locked the cell door, then watched with uncaring eyes. I didn’t have the strength to move; I just laid there, letting the cold seep into my burning muscles. Mary was on her way back, on her way to save me. Hope filled me. My wife was coming, she was going to exorcise Brandon, and this nightmare would be over. I struggled to rise, but all my muscles protested the action and I collapsed back onto the concrete floor. Not caring anymore, I stopped fighting my exhaustion and let unconsciousness take me.

Azrael visited me in my dreams, to continue my training. Last night, I learned just how woeful I was at combat. Azrael had explained it: “The Gift gives you reflexes and strength, but your body needs to learn how to move, how to stand and balance, and that takes practice.”

So we spent last night training. She taught me footwork, the most important part of fighting. If you can’t stand properly, you’ll be off-balance, get tripped up, and fall down or leave yourself open to your enemy’s attack. I spent hours learning just how to hold the blade, then more hours swinging it in deadly arcs: cross-slashes, thrusts, overhand swings. Finally, we sparred. Every time her blade struck my body, the pain taught me to pay more attention, to learn faster, to fight better. We fought and fought, never tiring, and I learned. My muscles absorbed the knowledge; I started moving with grace and purpose, not flailing about without any thought or care. Every movement of my body was deliberate, full of purpose—to defeat my opponent.

After training for hours, for maybe even a full day, I finally asked Azrael when I would wake up. “Time passes more slowly in the dream,” she answered. “What seems like minutes in your mind is only seconds in the waking world.”

“Like Inception?” The Angel gave me a puzzled look, her scarlet eyebrows furrowing. “It’s a movie. All about dreams.” She just stared at me. “Never mind,” I muttered, and we continued our sparring.

We moved on to hand-to-hand fighting. She taught me a brutal mix of grappling, kicks, and punches. It wasn’t like kung-fu in movies. There were no flourishes, no dramatic arm waves or kicks; every single attack was designed to hurt your opponent. She taught me to go for the body’s weak points: knees, groin, elbows, sides, throat, eyes. Break bones, dislocate joints, rupture vital organs, and do it as quickly as possible to end the fight before your enemy can defeat you.

The dream seemed to last for days before I woke up this morning. When Azrael appeared again to me this night, I asked her, “More sparring?”

“Yes,” she answered, her voice ringing bells. “But first, there are other Prayers to teach you.”

“Will they help me to escape?”

“No, but you may find them useful one day,” she answered. A look of disgust flitted across her face. “You’ve bound your Thralls with the Zimmah ritual, yes?”

I nodded. “And? Most of them agreed to it willingly.” I felt defensive beneath her judging gaze.

“I’m sure,” she said with distaste. “The Ragily prayer is similar. It allows you to link a group of willing fighters to you. There is a limit on how many persons you can bond, unlike the Zimmah ritual. However, those you bind in this way gain certain advantages when fighting the supernatural.”

“Like what?”

“The ability to hurt them. Their weapons will be capable of harming spiritual flesh. Their reflexes will be sharper, they can take wounds that would fell lesser men. It also doesn’t have such a…distasteful way of being cast.”

“You mean I wouldn’t have to fuck my mother to bind them?” I asked with a laugh, and quickly swallowed it beneath her withering gaze.

“Yes. It merely requires their pledge of fidelity and obedience.”

“How many could I have?”

“That is a more complex answer,” Azrael answered, tapping her chin in thought. “A normal Priest could handle, say, thirty to fifty. Maybe a hundred with an exceptional Priest, such as King David and his Mighty Men. But you, well, you have bound the life-force of what, fifty or sixty humans to you. Plus, there are all those that worship you. That is a lot of power, if you can harness it.”

I nodded. “What other prayers are there?”

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

Mary Glassner – Southern France

I kept looking in the mirror on the passenger sun visor on the drive back to Toulouse. I barely looked different. Mark’s transformation had been dramatic. Of course, he had been twenty-seven when he received the Gift and more than a little overweight. Now he looked eighteen, and had the body of a Greek sculpture. I was nineteen and already had a trim body. The Gift didn’t seem to change me at all. It didn’t even take a few pounds off my ass. Mark liked the plumpness, but I could stand to lose a pound or two off of it.

I sighed, flipping up the visor; Maryām’s words haunted me. The Devil was using us, not a big surprise, but what he was using us for – to escape his prison – was surprising, and terrifying. The Mother Superior’s words were really sinking in. Mark and I might be responsible for dooming the world. Sure we were unwitting pawns in the Devil’s plans, but that didn’t change the fact that we made our choice. Learning the consequences of our selfish decisions left a bitter taste in my mouth. However, she said we could stop him, trap him. Somehow, we could beat the Devil. I chewed on my lip, thinking about that as we drove to Toulouse.

I had no idea how to do it.

I pushed that particular worry to the side; Brandon was the immediate problem. I had the Gift. I could exorcise him now. I just needed to learn how to do it. Freed of her protection, Maryām was more than willing to answer my questions as she gazed up at me with lust. “Only the Angel can teach you how to use the Prayers. They come in your dreams.” She couldn’t lie, not when I ordered her to answer, not without her Gift to shield her from my powers.

I left her behind. I debated taking the former Nun with me, forcing her to be my slave and grovel before me. Part of me ached to see that beautiful, ancient woman degrade herself for my pleasure, to watch her dark eyes peer up from between my thighs as she worshiped my pussy. The way she would howl in pleasure as I fucked her from behind with a strap-on cock—or a real cock. I remembered the intense pleasure I experienced that afternoon Lilith transformed my clit into a dick. Shifting in my seat, I flushed and pushed that fantasy down.

In the end, I let Maryām go. It just felt wrong to keep her after hearing Mom’s story about the abuses she suffered at the hands of her Warlock. I just couldn’t bring myself to force anyone to act like that. Well, not permanently, anyways. So I forbade her from ever speaking about our meeting, and told her to live her life.

After an hour, we reached the airport at Toulouse and boarded my plane. I sent everyone to coach; I needed to sleep, to dream. I desperately needed to learn how to exorcise a Warlock. From what my mom has told me, it’s quite the pleasant experience being taught by an Angel. The Ecstasy she called it. As the 747 leveled off at its cruising altitude, heading west for North America, I struggled to sleep in the plush, first-class seat.

I had been up for over twenty-four hours, but I just couldn’t sleep. The harder I tried, the harder sleep eluded me. I leaned the first-class chair back as far as possible, had all the lights in the cabin turned off, and wore ear plugs to try and drown out the engines. But nothing would work. I was too damned stressed to relax. And trying to sleep just made it worse. I grew irritable, snapping at my guards, screaming wordlessly at the ceiling, and sobbing my frustration into a small, airline pillow.

Please! I silently begged. Just let me sleep!

After trying for hours, I felt defeated. I slumped against the window, staring listlessly out at the Atlantic ocean below, an endless sheet of midnight obscured by the occasional cloud. I let my mind drift, and I started pondering Karen’s half-heard message from the summoning yesterday. “Brandon has…” Karen had said, then Sam’s scream had drowned her out and all I caught was the last part. “…other.”

Brandon has…other. What could be in that missing gap. It was only a word or two. Something that rhymed with other? Mother, another, brother. Brandon has…other. What did it mean? What was Karen trying to warn me about? What did it matter if Brandon has a brother? Or has a mother? I started rhyming ‘other’ in my head: aother, bother, cother, dother, eother. I frowned at eother. Most of those weren’t even words. Fother? Gother? Maybe it was smother? Brandon has smother? No, that didn’t make any sense.

Brandon has…other. Brandon has brother?

I frowned. Brother. Was there something to that? Was there a spell that required a brother? It was getting harder to think. I was so exhausted, my mind felt like mush, battered by stress and fear until my brain was runny porridge. I felt like there was a spell that required a brother. What was it? I yawned, struggling to force my brain to work. Brother…brother…rother…er…

The next thing I knew I was standing in a vast emptiness, a black darker than night. I saw Mark, a golden sword in his hand, and gold armor covering his body. He was fighting a woman with scarlet hair and bronze skin. The woman also had a golden sword that flashed with rubies as she swung it at my husband. I blinked. This can’t be happening. I was on a plane, right? Flying over the Atlantic.

No, I’m dreaming. Relief swept through me; I had finally fallen asleep. Something teased at my thoughts, a single word—Brother. Why was brother so important? I bit my lip, straining to remember. It had something to do with a spell.

“Mary?” Dream-Mark asked. There was a look of surprise on his face and I lost my train of thought.

The woman turned, mirroring his look of surprise. “Two Shamans,” she whispered, her voice soft chimes.

Dream-Mark ran to me, swept me up in his arms and kissed me. Everything – all the stress and the fear and the guilt – melted away and there was only Mark, his lips, and his love overwhelming me. I poured my heart and soul into the kiss. I didn’t care that it was only a dream. It felt so real. So wonderful. I was breathless and giggling with joy when Dream-Mark broke his kiss. I pressed my face into his muscular chest. His armor had vanished sometime during our kiss. Well, it was a dream and strange things are bound to happen.

“You’re actually in my dreams,” Dream-Mark whispered in awe.

“No, you’re in my dreams,” I giggled. “I mean, I’m the one dreaming.”

Dream-Mark laughed, turning to the bronze woman. “It is her, right, Azrael?”

“Yes,” she said. “This is…surprising.” I glanced at the Angel as she studied us, eying me, then peering intently at Mark. “Yes, I see it now. You two are soulmates. Many Pacts and spells have bound the pair of you so tight, nothing can ever part you. It is how you came here without being summoned. Your desire to be trained was so strong that you were drawn to Mark’s soul, pulled along by the chains that bind you together.”

I smiled. Soulmates, that sounded lovely, but that wasn’t why I was here. “Yes, I need to learn how to perform the exorcism.”

Azrael cocked her head as she considered me. “You have received the Gift from Maryām.” Her red eyes turned flinty, a low, angry clang filled her ringing voice. “No, you stole her Gift.”

“I needed it,” I replied, lifting my chin. Who was this woman to judge my actions. I returned her flinty stare. “It’s the only way to stop Brandon. We can’t kill him, all the people under his control are bound to him and they’ll die. Exorcising him is the only way, and I can’t wait for a Nun to take her sweet time doing it! So stop the condescending lecture and train me!”

“I will train you,” Azrael sighed. “It is my Providence.” She reached out, taking my hand. Pleasure coursed through me, just like when Lilith would touch me, and I gasped as an orgasm rippled pleasantly through my body. “I must lie with you,” Azrael continued. “Only while we delight in each other’s pleasure, can I teach you.”

“Wait, why do you two get to fuck?” Mark asked. “You just swung swords at me?”

“Her powers involve sex, yours involves force. I trained you with force. Mary must be trained in more pleasant ways.”

“And the first time you appeared in my dreams and fucked me?” Mark demanded.

“That was for my pleasure,” Azrael answered. “Why else would I bother with you humans?” She turned to me. “Lie down.”

I eagerly lay down and the emptiness turned soft, becoming more comfortable than any bed. Azrael floated over me and her tunic vanished into gold smoke, revealing her lush body. Her hanging breasts silkily brushed down my body as she floated closer and closer to me; her hips lowered and I spread my legs. I gasped as her pussy rubbed against my cunt, a powerful orgasm exploding through me. She kissed me, and my entire body became pleasure as she slowly started moving her hips, tribbing our drenched pussies together. When our clits kissed, my third orgasm crashed through me.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck!” I gasped. “Oh, that feels amazing!”

“Most of the basic Priestess prayers require the Mark of Qayin to anchor the prayer,” the Angel explained, continuing her slow, delicious trib. “It is drawn with the fluids of your womanhood on the forehead of the person you are wishing to affect.”

“Okay!” I moaned, writhing beneath Azrael as her pussy ground against mine. Her nipples were diamonds rubbing against my breasts, leaving trails of ecstasy.

“It is drawn like this,” her finger tracing a circle with a diagonal line slashing through it on my forehead. “Once you’ve drawn the Mark, a variety of Prayers can be used, including the Shalak prayer. The exorcism.” Azrael kissed my lips. She tasted of ambrosia and I was lost to the pleasure of her body pressing against mine. “Umm, you taste delicious,” she purred, grinding her clit through my pussy slit, moving it up to bump sweetly against my hard pearl.

“Oh my God!” I moaned as my fourth orgasm swept through me. “You’re driving me wild, Azrael.”

“To exorcise a Warlock, you need to bring him or her to orgasm,” Azrael continued, grinding her angelic cunt just a little harder into me and I gasped. “Before he cums, or as he cums, you must draw the Mark of Qayin on his forehead. Then, when he cums, you utter, Shalak. You can draw the Mark at the same time you cast the prayer, or you can draw it beforehand. But, it will not work without the Mark.”

“Okay!” I moaned. “Keep fucking me with your cunt! Oh fuck! Shit, you’re driving me wild! Oh my God! Keep fucking me!” Another orgasm exploded through me, my toes curling, my fingers raking her bronze back.

Azrael kept grinding on me. “The other Prayers only affect Thralls.”

“What about the ones used on Mark’s sister and my friend, Alice?”

“You shouldn’t need those,” Azrael answered. “Not with your other powers.”

She was kissing me again, her tongue snaking into my mouth. I bucked beneath her as I came again. Her every touch just seemed to inflame my lusts, driving me to stronger and stronger orgasms. This was Ecstasy, pure, never-ending pleasure. Then we were rolling over and I was on top. It was my turn to fuck her, and I ground my pussy hard against her angelic cunt.

Another set of hands touched my ass, a hard cock prodded my pussy, then slid inside me. “Oh, Mark!” I gasped as my husband started fucking me. “Fuck me hard! Your naughty filly needs to be ridden badly!”

Mark pounded me, driving my pussy against Azrael. “I miss you so much!” Mark groaned and I could feel his cum shooting inside me. It felt wonderful as I shared this amazing pleasure with my husband, my soulmate. We were lost together in the Ecstasy. There was only the intense pleasure we shared. Just flesh pressing against flesh, driving each other to new heights of passion.

For an eternity we swam through a sea of pleasure. There were no thoughts, no distractions. We weren’t even individuals, just sensations trapped in flesh. And for the briefest instant, it was only Mark and I, so close I could not tell where I began and Mark ended. Our souls touched, merged, and I felt the purity of Mark’s love for me.

One instant of perfect joy.

When I returned to myself, I lay on my side, cradled in Mark’s strong arms. He pressed against my back, spooning against me. I didn’t want this dream to end. I just wanted to stay in his arms forever, safe and sound. I snuggled back against my husband and stroked his arm. Mark nuzzled my neck, his lips gentle. I smiled and sighed happily.

Then I realized he was trembling and I heard a muffled sob. I rolled over; his face red and tears streamed down. I stroked his cheek and he crushed me tightly to his chest. “What is it?” I asked him gently.

“I’m afraid to wake up, Mare.” There was so much pain in his blue eyes. “I don’t know how much more I can take.”

“I’m coming for you,” I told him. “You just need to hold out a little longer, Mark.” I bit my lip, fighting back my tears. “I need you to be strong for me, Mark. If you fall apart, I’m going to lose it. I’m barely holding it together.”

I felt Mark tense. He swallowed, closed his eyes, and took a few, deep breaths, before I felt the tension bleed from him. “Thank you,” he whispered. He brushed my cheek and captured my lips with a kiss and held me until we had to wake. We drew strength from each other. Neither one of us was strong enough to face this problem. Together, however, we could overcome anything, accomplish anything. Together we would defeat Brandon.

Mark woke first.

I was alone. I wanted to cry. They were going to start beating him again. He just needed to last a little while longer and it would be over.

I stood up, looking around the emptiness. Azrael was still here, I realized with a start, standing a discreet distance away. I walked over to her, the emptiness turning firm once again beneath my feet. I had more to learn from the Angel and planted myself squarely before her.

“My mom told me about the Cathar prayer. Can you teach it to me?”

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

Emi, the Dimme – Seattle, WA

“Go swiftly, my daughters,” Mother commanded Di and myself.

My twin sister and I were kneeling before her, staring up at her radiant beauty. She had a lush body and silvery hair and the most beautiful face in all the world. She was Lilith, Mother of Monster. Lilith of the Empty Womb and the Black Moon, and we loved her with all our hearts.

“Kill the false Gods Brandon Fitzsimmons and Mark Glassner!” Mother’s face burned with anger as she said the hated name.

Mark Glassner.

My hands itched to touch him, to kill him and watch as he falls lifeless to the ground. Di and I would become Mother’s favorites then. She would love us more than all her other children; our reward would be her touch, the Ecstasy. I glanced at my sister, remembering our fumbling experiments this afternoon as we entered puberty. If Mother’s touch felt half as good as Di’s mouth felt on my pussy, I would kill a hundred men for her. A thousand!

“We will not fail you, Mother,” I promised.

“I know you won’t, Emi,” Mother answered, her fingers electric as she caressed my face, delight erupting in my nethers for a brief moment as she gave me a taste of the Ecstasy. I shuddered; I would kill a million men for Mother. “Go!” she commanded.

Di and I rose and went ethereal. We were Dimme, more spirit than beings. At will our spirit bodies would take over, allowing us to skirt the Veil between the Mortal World and the Abyss. We could be seen, appearing translucent, or we could pass unseen. While we walked the border, we were no longer bound to the Mortal World and could pass through objects, like the wall of this warehouse.

We traveled south, speeding over the miles. South to the City of Tacoma. It would take us all night and into Monday to cross the distance, but we do not tire. We do not fail. Our Mother’s enemies would be dead at our hands.

We are Dimme. We do not fail.

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

Monday, September 30th, 2013 – Mary Glassner – Seattle, WA
“Everyone take your seats, we’re beginning our approach,” Joslyn’s voice crackled over the 747’s PA. “We’ll be on the ground by 12:17 PM.”

I swallowed and hoped she would be careful. I used the Cathar prayer to cloak the plane with invisibility. The US Airspace was still closed by Brandon, and it was tense as we flew across the country, but apparently we did not even show up on radar. Still, I was terrified that some plane was going to blunder into us.

We’re landing, Mark I sent. Just hold on a little longer!

Hurry, Mare! There was so much pain and misery in his sending, I had to bite my lip to keep from being overwhelmed. He was on his third straight day of beatings. He couldn’t last much longer.

I gripped the armrest as we dropped lower and lower, my heart hammering in my chest with a sudden rush of nerves. We were invisible, no-one could see us landing. Please, please let no-one drive out onto the runway. I looked out the window and watched as the ground seemed to rush up at us. The flaps were coming down, the airplane was slowing. And then the jarring impact and the sudden, roaring deceleration as we touched down at Boeing Field in southern Seattle.

Mark and I had a private hanger at Boeing field, and Joslyn and Lynda maneuvered our plane safely towards it. No-one was about, luckily. The hanger belonged to Cargo-Air, owned by a billionaire we knew. Brandon shouldn’t know about this. Hopefully.

I glanced out the porthole window and didn’t see any soldiers guarding the airport. Guarding our hanger. Our maintenance crews were waiting, opening the huge doors. They were all worshipers that volunteered to be bound to Mark with the Zimmah spell. I could see them staring around apprehensively. They could hear the plane’s engines, but not see it. Once we were safely in the hanger, and the doors closed, I released the prayer.

A stair truck was maneuvered to the side of the airplane, and I walked down it to an awaiting SUV. I got into the black suburban alone. I wasn’t going to let any more of my followers get captured. If the plan worked, Brandon’s power would be broken. If it failed, it wouldn’t matter how many bodyguards I took. We were hopelessly outnumbered by the US Military.

“Good luck, ma’am,” 47, the second-in-command of the bodyguards, wished me.

I pulled off my silver locket and my wedding band and handed it to her through the rolled-down window. The only thing I wore was my bronze amulet that protected me from bullets. “Keep these safe for me.” I fought back tears as I handed over my two most prized possessions; if this went badly, I didn’t want Brandon to get his hands on them.

“Absolutely,” she answered, then bent through the open window of the SUV and kissed me on the lips. “For luck.”

My bodyguards and other servants all watched me depart in silence. I used a keycard to get out of the airport and got onto I-5 heading south. There was almost no traffic. It was noon on a Monday and the freeway was disturbingly deserted. I sped south and in thirty minutes I drove through the City of Fife approaching Tacoma. There was a roadblock set up at the Port of Tacoma exit. Three Humvees and a Stryker blocked the highway. There were a dozen soldiers in desert camo manning a barbwire barricade set up in front of the vehicles. Two large machine-guns on tripods anchored the barricade on either side, pointing right at my SUV.

I slowed to a stop fifty feet away. I could see their auras, black fringed with red. Thralls immune to my power. Taking a deep breath, I turned off the SUV as the soldiers approached with their weapons pointed at me, barking loud commands. Cautiously I stepped out, my hands over my head. The soldiers leered at my naked body, and I held my head up proudly, staring boldly at the soldiers.

“I am Mary Glassner. Take me to Brandon.” I paused, then, pretending to be under Brandon’s powers, cooed, “I’m ready to be his concubine.”

The sergeant commanding the road block, older than the fresh-faced soldiers, grabbed my arm and marched me to a Humvee. He placed me in the back, then he and another soldier hopped in, started the vehicle and turned it around, and started driving towards Tacoma.

I’m almost there, Mark, I sent, trying to keep my fear out of the thought.

All I got back was a feeling of pain. I tried to keep the panic out of my heart. Please be okay, Mark!

It took only ten or so minutes to reach the Courthouse. Instead of taking me inside the Courthouse, they took me to the County Jail next door. My heart started hammering in fear. Did something go wrong? Why weren’t they taking me to Brandon? According to the news, the Courthouse was his headquarters.

I tried to appear calm as they walked me into the jail. The first security gate had been blown open and I saw bullet casings littering the floor and blood staining the walls. The soldiers led me deeper and we had to be buzzed through more security gates that were still intact. I was unnerved to see all the jail cells empty and I wondered what happened to the inmates. The last security gate I passed through opened onto the exercise yard at the center of the jail.

A mass of women huddled in the middle of the yard. They looked numb with terror. I scanned their faces, hoping to recognize any of the bodyguards, or Violet and Leah. I thought I saw Leah, our chauffeur, huddled with 51 and 27. I didn’t see any of the other bodyguards or Violet. 51 glanced at me, despair flickering across her ebony face.

At the other end of the yard, Brandon sat on a raised chair, like a throne, surrounded by a group of naked women that fawned over him. I knew from watching the news that Desiree was one of them. I looked for her, and saw her kneeling on Brandon’s right. She seemed a willing servant of his and I wasn’t sure how that was possible. Did Brandon find a way to break the Zimmah bond? Or did he just break her?

Then my eyes fell on Mark. I almost didn’t recognize him. His entire body was a bruise, mottled from head to foot with dark purples, that faded to browns and sickly yellows. His face was swollen and he bled from numerous cuts on his brow. One of his blue eyes found mine, the other swollen shut. He was manacled hand and foot to a post and lay sprawled on the concrete ground. My heart broke and I had to fight off my tears. Now was not the time, I needed to be strong.

The soldiers pushed their way through the women huddled in the center, leading me to Brandon. He had grown younger and fitter since he had captured Mark. How had he done that? Did he make a second Pact with the Devil? Brandon called it a miracle when he allowed himself to be interviewed last night, more proof of his Divinity. But that wasn’t possible. No, I bet he made a Pact with another demon.

“Ahh, Mary Glassner, you have finally succumbed to my charms, right?” Brandon smiled.

“How could I not?” I asked, trying to sound as enchanted with him as possible. He needed to believe I was under his power. “You are a God, and I am helpless before your masculinity. I love you! Let me be your concubine!”

I could feel his gaze roam my naked body as I knelt before him; I felt dirty as I let the pig’s eyes feast on me. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Mark, and I drew strength from him. I could endure this humiliation, I could endure anything, to save him.

I love you, be strong! I fiercely sent to my husband and I saw him stir.

Brandon stood up, unbuckling his pants. His cock was hard, the tip an angry red. “Show me just how much you love me!”

I can endure anything for Mark! I crawled to him, trying not to wince as my knees scraped on the concrete. Mark had experienced far more pain in the last three days; I could endure a scraped knee. I reached the pig, his cock waving in front of me. His dick was almost as long as Mark’s, but lacked my husband’s girth. I grasped it with one hand, slowly stroking it, suppressing a disgusted shudder.

“I would love to feel your cock inside my naughty pussy,” I purred.

Brandon laughed, “Your wife is quite the slut, eh Mark! It’s not surprising, she’s finally seen a real cock. Why don’t you suck me off first, whore!”

“Gladly,” I lied, then opened my mouth and sucked his cock into my lips. I would give him the best blowjob I could. The faster he came, the faster I could exorcise him.

He pulled it out of my mouth. “Whose cock is bigger?”

“Yours, my Lord!” I cooed. “I can’t wait to feel it in my naughty cunt!”

He shoved it roughly back into my mouth, and I swirled my tongue around his cock, before sliding my lips all the way down his shaft. I relaxed my esophagus and deep-throated him, my hands gently cupping his balls. It took all my self-control not to bite down on his cock and crush his nuts between my fingers. I slid my mouth back up, sucking hard, then bobbed a few times, rubbing his cock against the inside of my cheeks.

“Ahh, fuck, she’s a pro at sucking cock!” Brandon moaned. “I hope you’re watching your beautiful wife be my whore, Mark!”

I could hear Mark’s chains rattling, straining. He’ll pay for every word once he’s exorcised! I sent to Mark. Be strong!

I bobbed faster and faster, hoping Brandon would come soon so I could get his disgusting cock out of my mouth. Then he gripped my head hard, and started fucking my face. His cock shoved down my throat. I relaxed, fighting off my instinct to try and break free. I had to keep up this degrading charade until he was exorcised.

“Fucking whore!” Brandon groaned. “Damn your mouth feels great! I’m gonna flood your lips with my cum and you’re gonna drink it down like the good little slut you are!”

His cum disgustingly splashed into my mouth. I couldn’t exorcise with a mouth full of his dick, so I tried to pull away, but his grip was too strong. I felt ill as his salty cum filled my mouth. His grip never relented and I was forced to swallow his large load. He moaned above me, calling me ‘whore’ and ‘slut’. Finally, he finished, pulling out of my lips and I coughed.

I looked up at him, forcing myself to lick the cum off my lips as sexily as possible. “Thank you, my Lord. I bet my cunt would feel even better on your big, magnificent cock!”

His blow caught me by surprise.

I lay sprawled on the ground, my face burning with pain. I shook my head, blood dripping from my broken nose. What happened? I saw Brandon drawing back his leg to kick my stomach and fear poured through me. He was trying to hurt my baby. I threw myself away, his foot catching my side and I tumbled across the ground, the skin of my hip scraping on the rough concrete.

“Did you think I was stupid enough to let you fuck me!” Brandon roared. “I know you have the Gift!”

“How!” I coughed.

“Mowdah,” Brandon answered. The spell that let a Warlock see a person’s aura. Mine was bronze now. The aura of a Shaman.

“But you don’t have a sister,” I gasped in a nasally voice as blood poured from my broken nose.

“I have a brother,” Brandon answered, a look of distaste appearing on his face.

I felt so stupid. The Mowdah ritual required a sibling’s sexual juices. Mark and I used our sisters’; we didn’t have a choice, neither of us had a brother. How could I forget that you could also use a brother. Karen’s warning rang in my mind. Brandon has…other!” she had shouted. Sam’s scream had drowned out the middle of Karen’s warning. Brandon has a brother!

She was trying to warn me that my plan was going to fail.

I fought off my panic and glanced at Mark. I saw him concentrating. He was healing himself, but it would take time and it would be obvious. I swallowed; I needed to distract Brandon and everyone else. I had to buy Mark time to heal himself. It was the only chance we had.

“I hope you didn’t wish for that small cock!” I taunted. “I barely felt it in my mouth.”

Brandon sent another kick at me and I shouted, “Owr!” Blinding light erupted between us and Brandon stumbled, his kick missing me.

“Fucking cunt!” Brandon roared, blinking his eyes.

“Desiree told me she had to fake her orgasms when you fucked her!” I continued to taunt him, scrambling up to my feet. “She couldn’t feel your tiny dick inside her! But she never has to fake it with Mark! He has a huge cock!”

The bruises were fading on Mark’s naked body, the swelling on his face slowly going down, and I could see both of his eyes. I just needed to keep Brandon focused on me. I backed away as the pig squinted, his vision starting to come back. With a grunting roar, he lunged at me and tripped, falling forward. Desiree had grabbed his legs, holding him tight. Brandon hit the concrete hard and spat a bloody tooth out. He glared at Desiree, and kicked my slut hard in the face. Crying out in pain, she let go.

Brandon was on his feet, rounding on Desiree. “I thought you knew your place, cunt!” he screamed at the Latina woman, kicking her hard in the stomach.

“That’s mi Reina!” she shouted, defiance burning in her dark eyes as she clutched her stomach.

I moved to help her, but a hand grabbed me from behind. One of the soldiers; his grip crushing-iron as he squeezed my shoulder. Wincing in pain, I reached back, touched his hand, and screamed a single word: “Maveth!”

The soldier fell to the ground, screaming in horror. It was the last thing Azrael taught me before I woke up this morning. Because Azrael was the Angel of Death, she gifted a unique prayer to Shamans. A male Shaman could conjure the dead. A female Shaman could show a person just what awaited them in death; for a Thrall bound with the Zimmah spell, that meant sharing his Warlock’s torment in Hell.

I stepped back from the soldier, unnerved by the terror in his hoarse screaming. Would Mark and I experience that same horror when we died? Surely we are not as evil as Brandon? We do not deserve the same punishment that awaits his vile soul. I looked up at Brandon and he licked his lips nervously. He doesn’t know what I just did. The Maveth prayer wasn’t in the Magicks of the Witch of Endor.

“Anyone who touches me shall receive the same fate!” I warned, staring at Brandon with all the anger and contempt I could muster.

Other soldiers eyed me warily. “Grab her!” Brandon screamed, an edge of hysteria in his voice. A smug feeling bubbled through me. He was scared of me.

Good.

I touched the first soldier who lunged at me, spoke the word, and he fell to the ground in horror. Three more grabbed me. They were all touching my bare skin. It was enough and they fell screaming. A gun cracked; I was enveloped in blue as my amulet deflected a shot. I turned to see the soldier who fired and saw 51 and 27 leap on him; the two captured bodyguards wrestling him to the ground.

Elation surged in me. Brandon’s soldiers were in disarray, and Mark was healing. Everything was swinging into our favor.

“What is going on here!” a voice boomed like an erupting volcano.

I whirled about to see a tall, hulking man entering the exercise yard. Only he wasn’t a man. His eyes glowed like coals, and his skin was black and cracked like cooling lava. The air stank of rotten eggs as the demon strode across the yard. The women huddled in the center of the yard scrambled to get out of his way, pushing and shoving each other in their terror to escape him.

“Molech, I have your next sacrifice!” Brandon bellowed. “Mary Sullivan!”

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

Mark Glassner – Tacoma, WA
Panic seized my heart as Molech strode forward.

I had been watching my wife with pride. When her plan fell apart, she didn’t panic and started stalling for time so I could heal myself. She was amazing as she taunted Brandon and fended off his soldiers, and for a moment she seemed to have the upper hand—until Molech arrived like a crashing avalanche. The hulking monstrosity strode closer and closer to my wife. I knew what happened to the women he took; their screams never stopped filling the prison.

I concentrated, willing myself to heal faster, trying to fight down my terror for my wife as Molech strode across the yard.

Mary turned to flee as the demon approached her, sending a soldier who tried to grab her screaming to the ground with a single word. Heal faster! I could feel my tongue starting to regrow, expanding and filling up my mouth. Faster, oh please, faster! Faster! Molech approached Brandon, who watched with a smirk as Mary was backed into a corner, fear shining in her eyes.

Suddenly, Molech’s arm lashed out and seized at nothing, and a woman materialized out of thin air, pale-white and naked. Her hair was whiter than snow, the very absence of any color. Molech had her by the arm, but she did not scream even as her flesh sizzled, and smoke curled greasily out of Molech’s clenched fist. Instead, the woman thrust her hand at Molech and there was a flash of shadows; Molech released her, steam hissing from an ugly fissure in his chest. The woman vanished.

“What was that?” Brandon gaped where the woman disappeared.

“Dimme,” Molech rumbled. “One of Lilith’s spawn. It is an assassin that walks the borders of life and death.” The demon fixed his burning coals on Brandon. “I have not gotten all the sacrifices due me yet, so you cannot die.”

Molech’s fist lashed out and the Dimme appeared as she was sent sprawling to the ground, her face a bloody ruin. The Dimme hissed at Molech and disappeared, leaving behind pale, pink blood. Mary was forgotten as Brandon called his soldiers to surround him. Molech circled slowly, peering about, a grimace on his basalt face.

Behind Molech, the Dimme appeared and struck him in the back with shadows. Roaring in pain, Molech swung around, but the Dimme ducked. A second Dimme materialized behind Brandon, hand lunging at his unprotected back. A soldier saw her and threw himself in front of her blow. Shadows flashed and the soldier fell lifeless to the floor; the Dimme vanished as the other soldiers opened fire at her.

My tongue was whole. I was healed. “Tsalmaveth!”

Energy flowed out of me and mists, billowing white, filled the exercise yard. The soldiers guarding Brandon grew more bewildered and started firing wildly as the fog seemed to draw together, forming into fifteen figures—the dead I summoned, creating their bodies out of white vapors. In front of me, one of those figures grew swiftly out of the swirling vapors. Its body filled out and a nimbus of silvery light sprang up around it. Squinting up at the spirit I saw blue eyes, blonde hair, and a smile.

“Look at all the trouble you get into without me, Master,” Chasity grinned.

Clad in silver armor, she held a silver 9mm in her hand. She looked like a Valkyrie, fierce and beautiful. Aiming her gun, she shot off the manacles binding my hands and feet, then held out her hand, her grip strong as ice, cold as death, as she helped me to my feet. I looked around and saw the other ghosts I summoned: Karen standing before Mary, 25’s pouty lips curled into a snarl as she fired her gun at a group of soldiers, 63’s auburn hair flowing like flames behind her as she sprinted across the exercise yard towards Mary. All thirteen of the bodyguards who died for us had been summoned, protecting us even in death.

My legs felt rubbery as I took my first step. I was so weak. I hadn’t eaten in days, barely drank water enough to survive, and I could feel the energy flowing out of me, maintaining the summons. I grit my teeth, pushed my exhaustion to the side, and summoned my Celestial Gold sword and armor, and strode into the fight, Chasity at my side.

Molech had to be stopped.

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

Mary Glassner
I heard Mark’s voice over Molech’s roar as I huddled in the corner. For the moment I was being ignored and I struggled to think. Brandon was surrounded by his soldiers; maybe I could hug the wall, make my way to the corner as everyone was distracted by the Dimme. Then I noticed a thick, white mist spring up. I watched in amazement as the mists swirled before me and a figure coalesced, resolving into Karen dressed in glowing, silver armor.

“Mistress,” she said with a smile. “How may I serve?”

I looked around; other figures appeared out of the mist. All were of the bodyguards that died. The six last June and the seven who died on Saturday. I saw Chasity helping Mark to his feet, and I smiled. It was good to see her again; she looked so beautiful in her armor, so fierce. I once overheard Alison speaking to her wife about Chasity. “She’s watching over us,” Alison had said, “Like a Valkyrie, ready to swoop in and help us. Just like in that old Arnold Schwarzenegger movie. The barbarian movie.” Alison was right, she’s a Valkyrie here to save us.

63 ran up beside Karen, followed by porcelain-faced 32. Behind them, I could see that Mark was charging at the demon, Chasity at his side. “Ma’am, your orders?” 32 asked fiercely, gleaming in her silver armor.

“Capture Brandon!” I commanded.

Brandon’s guards were wild-eyed, shooting at the apparitions. Their bullets didn’t affect the silver-clad bodyguards; they were already dead. 32 and 63 fired their ghostly 9mm at the soldiers, striking their bulky body armor and sending them reeling, while Karen placed herself between me and the firefight. Behind Brandon, I could see Mark, Chasity, and more of the bodyguards fighting Molech and the two Dimme. Mark was clad in his golden armor, like a Greek hero, his sword flashing in the sunlight. He looked so powerful, so heroic, and I felt a momentary heat in my pussy.

A naked 51, looking exhausted and gaunt, slid up to me, a captured M16 in her hand. “Ma’am,” she calmly greeted, knelt down, and carefully started firing at Brandon’s guards.

The ghosts of Karen, 32, and 63 advanced.

“Retreat!” Brandon cried out in fear as another one of his soldiers was struck down by the ghosts.

Brandon was propelled along at the center of ten or so soldiers, who rushed towards the security gate that led into the prison. There was a metallic buzz and the gates opened. Crap, he was trying to escape, Mark would have to take care of Molech on his own. We ran after him as the gate started closing. 32 pulled ahead and threw herself into the doorway and caught the gate before it could shut. There was the grinding protest of metal as 32 stopped the mechanism long enough for 51 and myself to slip through. We turned a corner and saw Brandon passing through a second security gate. 32 raced forward, but the gate clanged shut before she could reach it.

“Dammit!” I snarled, then glanced at 32. “Can you go through walls?”

“Of course, ma’am,” she smiled, excitement twinkling in her almond-shaped eyes. I remembered her from the first tryouts, her name was Sally. She died on Saturday.

“Take the control room, trap Brandon, and open a way for us!”

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

Mark Glassner
I caught a glimpse of Mary chasing after Brandon with Karen, two other ghosts, and 51. Hoping she would be fine, I turned my attention back to Molech. The demon had conjured a flaming sword and swung it about in deadly arcs. The ghosts were attacking him from all sides, but Molech was holding us at bay with his sword. Those strange, colorless women, the Dimme, were constantly popping in and out of thin air. They attacked Molech, me, and the ghosts.

Chasity suddenly tackled me and we both went down as Molech’s blade roared overhead, the heat painful on the exposed skin of my face. We rolled on the concrete and I slowly got back on my feet. Maintaining the summoning was draining me fast. I wasn’t sure I could last much longer. I just had to hold on somehow; Molech was too strong, too fast, for me to fight on my own. He moved like quicksilver, despite his bulk, flowing about the battlefield and driving all our attacks back.

Molech’s sword flickered at me in a cutting arc and I just got my blade up to parry it. The demon knew how to fight. It took all my skill just to keep his blade from finding my flesh, let alone attacking back. Three of the bodyguards swiped at him and he turned and flowed away from me.

The ghosts had to transform their guns into swords. The small bullets just didn’t seem to do anything to the bulky demon. 22 leapt at the demon, her black hair streaming behind her. Molech whirled, turned her blade with his sword, and his riposte cleaved through her, breaking the spell that summoned her and sending her spirit back to the Abyss.

22’s unsummoning lessened the strain on me, but not by much. I was flagging and Molech sensed it. I raised my sword in time to catch his next blow, the force sliding me back a foot. The demon hammered at me with lightning-quick blows that I barely blocked with an upraised sword, each one sending a painful vibration up my arms. Chasity slid in, swinging her silver blade at the demon, and he was forced to leap back.

“Fuck,” I cursed, sweat pouring down my face, into my eyes. The summoning was about to fail, I couldn’t hold it much longer. I wiped at my brow and suddenly one of the Dimme was in front of me. Her arm shot forward and shadows flashed as she hit my breastplate. Pain exploded through me and I was sent flying back. I could feel the cracks in my armor from the blow as I landed heavily on my back. The Dimme vanished then reappeared standing above me, her arm striking at my head. I knew her blow would kill me if she touched my unprotected face. Behind the Dimme, Chasity was swinging her sword at the monster’s head, racing to kill the Dimme before she could kill me.

Everything seemed to slow down as my energy failed. The summoning spell was about to end and I struggled to hold on to it, but I was too weak and it was beginning to slip away from me. I just needed it to last one more second, just long enough for Chasity’s blade to kill the monster before her hand could strike my face and kill me.

Just one more second.

I was spent, out of gas. I couldn’t hold on any longer, the chains linking the ghosts to me slipping out of my soul’s grasp. This was it. I was dead. I let Mary down, everyone down. The Dimme’s pale hand drew closer and closer, shadows gathering black around it.

No! I can’t give up! I had to keep fighting! For Mary! For our unborn child! I dug deep into myself, reaching into the depths of my soul, desperate to find something, anything, that could extend the summonings. I touched something hard, metal.

I found a chain manacled to my soul.

No, not one chain, there were dozens and dozens of chains. I grasped one. It belonged to Violet, her life-force tied to me through the Zimmah spell. I could feel the power of her life-force, and I drew on it, fueling the summoning. Then I grasped all the chains and drew on all their energy: Alison, Desiree, Lillian, Xiu, Jessica, Mary’s dad and her sisters, the bodyguards, our other servants. More power than I could have ever dreamed of rushed into me. I had my one second. Hell, I had a lot more than just one.

Chasity’s blade sliced through the Dimme and it fell lifeless atop me.

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

Mary Glassner
“So,” I said to Karen as we waited for 32 to open the security gate, “how’s…um…being dead.” I flushed, why did you ask that, it must be a painful subject for her.

“Oh, well, it’s all right, I guess,” Karen said. “We watch you and Master, or we make love with each other. There really isn’t anything else to do while we wait.”

There was an awkward pause as neither of us knew what to say, and I wondered just how long it would take for 32 to open this damned gate before Brandon got too far away. I glanced at the ghost, bit my lip, then asked the first question that popped into my head, “How can you block bullets and go through walls?”

“We stand on the edge between life and death right now,” Karen answered, “and we can control which side we are closer to. If we choose life, we can interact with your world, and if we slide closer to death, we can pass through walls.”

“Ahh, and the bullets don’t hurt you because you’re dead?”

“Basically.”

“So, could something hurt you while you’re summoned?”

Karen shook her head. “Not really. If an attack hits us that can effect spiritual beings, like Master’s sword, our souls will only get sent back to the Abyss.” Karen frowned. “Well, there is one thing, Mishbath.”

“What’s that?”

“Annihilation. A blade of negation forged by the demoness Asherah, that can permanently destroy a soul, wiping it from existence. Even torment in the Abyss is preferable to unbeing. At least in Hell there can be companionship and hope of a better existence.”

“Wow,” I whispered.

“Brandon is trapped,” 32’s voice came over the jail’s PA. “I’ve created a path to him. Just follow the open security gates.”

“Good job!” I shouted as the security gate blocking our pursuit buzzed open. Karen and 63 led the way and 51 brought up the rear.

32 emerged from the wall as we rushed past empty jail cells. “This way!” she shouted.

Gunfire erupted as 32 rounded the corner, bouncing harmlessly off her silver armor. The Korean ghost aimed her silvery 9mm and started firing calmly. Karen and 63 joined her, and the three ghosts fired at Brandon’s men. I could hear the soldiers cry out in fear and pain and I felt bad for them.

They didn’t ask for this. They were Brandon’s slaves.

“Just surrender, Brandon!” I shouted, hoping to spare any innocent lives I could. “You’re trapped!”

“Fuck you cunt!” he screamed back, shrill with hysteria. “I am a God! I will not be defeated so easily! Not by a fucking woman!”

I laughed, putting all the contempt I could into it. “Brandon, you were outclassed from the beginning.”

“Open the gate!” he bellowed. I heard a metallic ring, like someone just kicked the security gate. “I command you to open the goddamn fucking gate!”

There was no more fire coming from Brandon’s soldiers, so I stepped out around the corner. Guilt filled my soul as I saw the soldiers lying dead and dying before Brandon. I shoved the guilt down. This was all Brandon’s fault. The blood is on his hands, not mine.

I advanced on Brandon as he pounded on the security gate, begging for it to open. He turned back and saw the three ghosts and me walking determinedly down the hallway. “Please!” he begged, sliding down the security gate. “Please, don’t hurt me!”

I backhanded him, hard. So hard my hand hurt. It was satisfying to see the blood flow from his broken nose. “Restrain him,” I coldly ordered.

Karen grasped his legs and 63 grabbed his arms. He struggled, but the ghosts had preternatural strength and easily held the blubbering man down.

“I just wanted the power,” he sobbed. “Mercy, please!”

“You are pathetic,” I snarled. “You attacked us with soldiers, hunted down my husband, and beat him for three days straight. You wanted to give me to that monstrous demon you summoned! And you want mercy? Are you fucking kidding me, Brandon!” I kicked him in the side and he grunted. The fucker deserved far more pain and suffering. I wanted to beat him bloody, to let Brandon experience the pain he inflicted on my husband. I wanted him dead, but I couldn’t kill him. Every Thrall under his control was bound to him. If he died, they died. “You’re only alive because I do not want to be responsible for the tens of thousands of deaths that would result if I killed you. Get him hard, 51.”

“Yes, ma’am,” 51 answered, unzipping his pants and pulling his cock out. Her ebony hand stroked it a few times, then she bent down and sucked it into her mouth.

“Let me know when he’s about to cum,” I ordered.

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

Mark Glassner
With my new found energy, I rushed at Molech. He whirled about, his sword swinging in a wide arc that unsummoned two more bodyguards as it passed through their ghostly bodies. I parried the stroke, barely, and Chasity slid under his blade and swung at his knee. He pulled his leg back, but her blade managed to bite deep into his thigh.

Molech roared in fury, weeping molten blood. His injured leg slowed him, and the ghosts and I pressed the attack. His great, flaming sword was a red blur as he whipped it around in deadly arcs, but the wound on his leg slowed him. Ghostly blades and my golden sword slashed at the demon, and more molten blood gleamed as it flew through the air from a dozen shallow cuts, sizzling and smoking on the concrete. Somehow, Molech was always able to move his bulk to avoid the worst of the blows.

“I am Molech, God of the Ammonites, Lord of Brimstone!” the demon roared. “I am the Fiery Furnace that consumes the Prideful! Who are you, mortal, to think you can contend with a God!”

“I am Mark Glassner!” I roared back. “And you are a God no longer. All those who worshiped you are dead. Who the fuck has even heard of the Ammonites? Or Molech?”

Molech erupted wordlessly in anger. Two of the ghosts leaped at the demon’s back and he whirled, cleaving through them and leaving his back exposed to me. Seeing my opening, I rushed forward, my sword raised high. Just three steps and a swing and my blade would part the demon’s head from his body.

The first step—Molech began to turn, somehow sensing the attack, but he was slowed by all his wounds. He couldn’t stop me and triumph surged through me. I was going to take his head! I was going to win!

The second step—out of the corner of my eye I saw a white figure materialize and threw myself to the side to avoid a shadowed hand of the last Dimme. I hit the ground hard, my knee exploding in pain as I wrenched it on a metal stool bolted into the concrete. I looked around for the monster, but she had vanished again. Dammit, I was so close. I grabbed the stool, struggling to stand, but my knee wouldn’t support my weight and I fell onto my back,

“I think you are an insect,” Molech growled as he marched towards me, triumph burning in his burning eyes. 01 and 78 jumped in front of the demon, trying to stop his advance, but he cut them down, the ghosts vanishing back into mist as they returned to the afterlife. “I shall crush you beneath my foot and then I will find your woman and she shall know the agony of my embrace.”

Molech was standing over me, reeking of sulfur; the air wavered about him, rippling from the heat of his body. Between his legs was a fat, black cock, hardening with lust. Fear pounded through me; I couldn’t let this monster anywhere near my Mary. His foot raised up and Chasity and the four remaining ghosts threw themselves at him. Chasity slammed into his raised leg, throwing off Molech’s aim and his foot slammed down inches from my face.

Molech’s hand grasped Chasity’s throat. She somehow managed to spit in his face and the ghostly liquid sizzled; Molech’s fiery eyes bulged in rage. “I will find you, spirit.” he growled. “When you return to the Abyss, I shall track you down. Your suffering will be an eternity of torment for your meddling!” His fist squeezed and crushed her throat, and Chasity’s form melted into white vapor.

I swung my sword at Molech’s leg, the gold blade flashing as it sliced through the air. It struck Molech’s right leg, just above the knee. There was almost no resistance as I hit his molten flesh, cutting through the thick leg as easily as cutting a piece of tender steak.

Molech’s roar of pain was satisfying as the figure stumbled forward. Only he had no right foot and I rolled out of the way as the demon crashed forward onto his hands and knee. A pool of molten fire issued from his stump, melting the base of the metal stool. With a groan, the stool collapsed. 30 stood over me, a smile on her ghostly, Asian face as she hauled me to my feet. Molech struggled to rise, trying to use his stump for leverage, but he slipped, collapsing back onto his hands and knees as I stood over him.

“Mercy,” he suddenly begged. “I will be your most loyal servant. I can give you anything you want!”

“Is the great Molech scared?” I taunted. “Who would have thought that the Lord of Brimstone was such a coward.”

A sneer appeared on Molech’s features. “Lucifer will rise free of the Abyss and you will burn in his radiance, Mortal!”

I raised my sword.

“No, wait!” His coal eyes burned yellow with fear. “You will need me to contend with Lucifer. He will destroy you without my help.”

“You should not have threatened my wife, Molech.”

I swung my sword.

Molech’s protest was cut short as my blade parted his head from his body. It bounced once and rolled against a metal table, then his head and body fell apart into cooling coals. I felt power rush into me, a roaring fire that burned into my soul. I felt more of the energy travel out of my body, out to Mary. Our souls were so connected, bound so tightly together that Molech’s power rushed to her. Fire erupted on my sword, red flames dancing along the gold blade.

“You did it, Master,” Desiree breathed. My Latina slut walked over to me – her face bloody and bruised from Brandon’s kicks – and slipped her arms about me. I leaned on her, taking the weight off my injured knee. There were tears in her eyes. “I-I submitted to him,” she cried. “I betrayed you, Master.”

I stroked her face. “You did what you had to, Desiree. When it counted, you protected Mary.”

Supported by Desiree, I limped off to find my wife.

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

Mary Glassner
“I won’t cum!” Brandon defiantly roared as 51’s ebony hand pumped on his cock.

I laughed, “Your cock is so hard. You wished for sexual stamina, right?”

He flushed.

“Well, it will only be a matter of…” I gasped, my eyes widening. Fiery energy rushed into me from Mark, filling my soul. I fell backwards as the power overwhelmed me.

“Mistress!” Karen cried out, kneeling next to me. Her ghostly hands were cold as she grasped me.

“I’m fine,” I told her, panting. What was that energy that just flowed into me?

“Fire danced around you, Mistress,” Karen said in awe. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” I answered, then thought to Mark, What was that energy?

Molech’s dead, Mark sent back; he sounded exhausted.

We have Brandon. Just follow the open security doors.

You saved us, Mare! Pride filled his thoughts and I flushed.

No I didn’t. My plan failed, Mark.

You stalled long enough for me to heal. You were amazing!

I flushed even more.

A minute later, Mark came limping around the corner, supported by Desiree and flanked by four ghosts. Behind Mark walked Leah and 27, who looked even worse than 51. I could only imagine the horrors they witnessed. I peered, trying to see past everyone, hoping to see Violet. Where was she? Was our cute, teenage slut dead? Or did she escape? As I strained to spot Violet, a pale form appeared behind my husband.

“Mark!” I screamed in warning.

“For Di!” the colorless Dimme screamed, her hand flashing with shadows.

Mark started to turn, swinging his flaming sword. Shadow and sword flashed. Mark reeled back, slipping out of Desiree’s grip and crashing hard to the ground. The Dimme toppled backward in a spray of pink blood, her throat opened from Mark’s slash.

Karen and the other ghosts melted into mist and Mark’s armor and sword disintegrated into golden motes. “No!” I shouted, racing to Mark.

“Shit!” 51 gasped behind me. There was a meaty sound and a wet thud.

I reached Mark, kneeling next to him. There was a blackened wound on his chest. His armor had stopped the worst of the Dimme’s attack, but that wound was growing, shadowy tendrils inching across his body. I had to heal him, fast. “Tsa…”

My spell was cut short as a hand crushed my throat. I was slammed onto my back, pinned by Brandon as he straddled my stomach, a mad look in his eyes. I couldn’t breathe. My lungs burned. I clawed at his face, leaving red scratches. His grip tightened, iron crushing the life out of me. No! I couldn’t die! Not when we came so close to defeating him. Not when I was pregnant. I had to fight. For our unborn child!

I started grasping at the fingers squeezing my throat, trying to pry them off. Other women were leaping on Brandon, trying to force him off of me. 27 was thrown off, her head slamming into the concrete wall and she fell heavily to the floor. The world was starting to grow black, and it was getting harder and harder to think, to fight. I wanted to give up, to relax, to let that blissful darkness take me away from all of this pain.

My hand went limp.

No, keep fighting, I weakly told myself. Our child would be named Chasity if it was a girl or Albert if it was a boy. I had to keep fighting for our child. I wanted to see him or her be born. To hold our child in my arms. I would not give up! I reached inside me, trying to find the strength to keep the darkness at bay.

I found something, glowing in my soul. The power that flowed into me from Mark.

The fire of Molech.

Brandon screamed, his hand released my throat as he stumbled back. I coughed, gasping lungfuls of the sweetest air I had ever tasted. Fire roared about my body, dancing harmlessly on my skin. Desiree and 51 wrestled the screaming Brandon to the ground, his hands blackened ruins. I coughed, and turned to Mark. The black wound was growing, the shadows spreading, reaching for his heart.

“Tsariy!” I screamed hoarsely as I touched him.

Red light engulfed my husband, his body convulsing beneath my hand. When it passed, his blue eyes were shining up at me. His hand reached out and caressed my face. I winced; my nose was broken and my face swollen from Brandon’s blow. Mark whispered and my world turned scarlet. I could feel my nose straitening out, the swelling in my face vanishing; the pain in my throat and the bruises and scrapes on my side all melted away.

“My filly!” Mark cried out, crushing me to him.

I hugged him just as fiercely, my tears rolling down my cheeks. “My stallion!”

Mark kissed me and everything seemed to stop. My husband was safe and we were together again. I could feel his muscular chest pressing against me, his hands roaming my back, and I touched him everywhere, feeling his strong muscles. My heart sang for joy and I could feel tears misting my eyes. I broke the kiss, and stared into his deep blue eyes and stroked his cheek.

Then I bent over and whispered into his ear, “We’ve started something terrible. A darkness approaches. We have to take some responsibility and fight back, Mark.”

I couldn’t say anymore. Lucifer could be watching us right now. Only in a Matmown would it be safe to talk. I pressed my finger to his lips when he started to speak, shaking my head ever so slightly. There was confusion in his eyes, but also trust.

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

Debra Horne-Dannell
“Something has happened, Forrest,” I reported into my microphone, speaking with Forrest Murphy back in the Q13 Fox studios while I stared into the camera manned by Jarret. The world had changed a moment ago. I felt like I had returned to myself. “Everything is different. It’s like I’m waking up from a dream.”

Around me in the square before the Tacoma Courthouse, were US Soldiers who served the God Brandon Fitzsimmons. No, that couldn’t be right? He could not be a God. Everywhere I looked, soldiers were shaking their heads, looking confused. A young soldier, no more than twenty, sat down and started sobbing into his hands.

“We felt it, too, Debra,” Forrest replied through my earpiece. He was anchoring the news desk back at the Q13 Fox studio in Seattle. “Why did we ever believe Brandon was a God?”

“He cast a spell,” I realized. “Led us astray from our true Gods.”

It was all coming back to me. My worship and love for Mark and Mary Glassner was suppressed by the false God’s enchantment. I was free. It felt wonderful. “Our real Gods, Mark and Mary, are responsible,” I continued reporting. A smile grew on my face. It was unprofessional, but I could not contain the joy I felt at being free. “I just know it! The soldiers under Brandon’s control seem to be freed as well. Many look dazed, sick even. Disgusted at what Brandon forced them to do. We have all heard the reports of the atrocities committed the last few days in Tacoma.”

“I just shot that man,” sobbed the young soldier, staring at his hands. “Oh, God, why did I do that?”

The doors to the jail suddenly opened and two naked women, one Black and one Hispanic, walked out carrying M16s. I recognized the Black woman as 51, the chief bodyguard of my Gods. Then Desiree and a brunette walked out, dragging a manacled man.

Brandon Fitzsimmons.

And the last to walk out were my Gods. They were naked, their arms entwined. An aura of fire danced about the pair. My breath caught in my throat; even naked, they were magnificent. Mark’s chiseled body, as perfect a male specimen as you would find on any Greek statue, and Mary’s womanly figure, as beautiful as any pin-up model. Power and majesty radiated out from the pair.

“I present the false god, Brandon Fitzsimmons!” Mark roared.

Desiree kicked the back of his leg and the fat, balding man fell to his knees. Whatever illusion Brandon had used to make himself look young and fit had been broken. He stared blankly at the ground, utterly defeated.

“He enslaved you with his dark magic!” Mary shouted. “But we have freed you! Do not feel guilty for what you did under his control. Only Brandon bears responsibility for the murders and the rapes. Only Brandon!”

The soldiers around me looked up at Mark and Mary with hope and relief. The young man that had been sobbing near me gazed at them with such a worshipful expression. “It wasn’t me,” he whispered. “It wasn’t me!”

“Brandon Fitzsimmons is guilty of mass murder and rape!” Mary cried out. “He sacrificed over fifty women to the demon Molech!”

Mark looked down at the defeated man. “For his crimes, I condemn him to death!”

With Mark’s sentence, 51 aimed her M16. I felt a vicious surge of triumph in my heart as the M16 barked and Brandon fell lifeless to the ground.

“A darkness approaches!” Mark bellowed. “Brandon was merely the first. Only Mary and I can protect you! Serve us, worship us, and we shall fight for you, protect you! We are the only hope for the world! We are your Gods, and we love you all!”

The soldiers fell to their knees in worship. It took me a moment to realize that I knelt with them.

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

Brandon Fitzsimmons – The Abyss

The gun barked.

I was falling, falling, falling into darkness.

Then the darkness gave way to fire, to pain. To agony beyond anything I ever felt alive. I screamed and screamed as the flames danced on my skin, igniting every nerve. Around me thousands screamed, millions. I burned, my flesh sizzling, but I would not die, and the pain would not end. My flesh was never consumed. My torment would be unceasing.

“Welcome, Brandon,” Lucifer taunted. A collar of molten-red metal encircled my neck, a chain leading off to the radiant figure floating before the thousands of tormented souls bound to him. “Did you enjoy your wishes?” He savored my torment, delighted in it, drank in my agony. Malice and sadism dripped from every word he uttered. “I hope they were worth the price.”

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 39.

Der Pakt mit dem Teufel Kapitel 3: Dienst am Kunden

 

 

Der Pakt mit dem Teufel

Kapitel 3: Dienst am Kunden

Von mypenname3000

Übersetzt von Horem

© Copyright 2013, 2014


Story Codes: Male/Female, Female/Female, Male/Females, Males/Female, Mind Control, Orgy, Anal, Oral, Work, Magic, Wife

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

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



Click here for Kapitel 2



Bedauernd verließ ich den Salon. Ich hätte wirklich gerne bleiben und sehen wollen, wie Mary ihre Muschi von dieser Joy, der Asiatin mit dem tollen Arsch, geleckt bekam. Aber dort roch es so intensiv nach Nagellackentferner, dass mir schlecht wurde. Naja, Mary würde schon ihren Spaß haben und ich war gespannt darauf, später ihre gewachste Muschi zu sehen. Ich grinste und fragte mich, ob sie wohl ihr gesamtes Haar entfernen lassen würde. Vielleicht würde sie nur einen Landestreifen aus rotbraunem Haar stehen lassen. Ich schloss meine Augen und stellte mir Marys wunderschönen nackten Körper vor. Lächelnd, ein herzförmiges Gesicht, kleine feste Brüste mit Sommersprossen, eine kurvige Taille und eine Linie aus Feuer, die zu ihrer nassen Muschi führte.

Ich öffnete meine Augen wieder und ging zu meinem alten Auto. Ich öffnete die Tür und stieg ein. Seit ich mit der alten Karre herumfuhr und Staubsauber verkaufte, wohnte ich praktisch darin. Es war mit Einpackpapieren und sonstigem Müll gefüllt. Ich musste sie wirklich mal sauber machen. Mary hatte etwas Besseres verdient, als in dieser dreckigen Karre herumzufahren. Sie hatte zwar nichts gesagt, aber es war völlig klar, dass sie nicht gerne bei mir mitfuhr. Vielleicht sollte ich mir einfach ein neues Auto kaufen, weil das hier wirklich nur noch Scheiße war. Einen Mustang vielleicht, schwarz und flach. Das wäre gut. Ich lächelte und steckte den Zündschlüssel ins Zündschloss. Hoffentlich sprang er jetzt an. Der Motor spuckte und hustete. Ich spielte mit dem Gaspedal und machte mir einen Moment lang Sorgen, dass er nicht anspringen würde. Schließlich erwachte der Motor geräuschvoll zum Leben. Erleichtert fuhr ich die Straße bis zum Best Buy rauf. Dort parkte ich. Ich machte mir nicht die Mühe, das Auto abzuschließen. Im Auto gab es wirklich nichts als Müll. Und den durfte wirklich gerne jeder mitnehmen.

Ich ging in das Best Buy und suchte dort die Elektronik-Abteilung auf. Dann schaute ich mir die Camcorder an. Es gab eine ziemlich große Auswahl. Ich fing an, mir die technischen Spezifikationen durchzulesen, aber ich merkte schnell, dass ich kein Experte war. Wahrscheinlich würde ich einfach den teuersten nehmen. Es war ja nicht so, dass ich geplant hätte, ihn zu bezahlen.

„Kann ich Ihnen helfen, Sir“, sagte plötzlich eine weibliche Stimme hinter mir. Ein blumiges Parfüm füllte meine Nase.

Ich drehte mich um und sah eine große schlaksige Blondine in einem Best-Buy-T-Shirt und mit einer Khakihose vor mir. An ihrem Oberteil war ein Namensschild angebracht, auf dem „Jessie“ stand. „Du kannst mir ganz bestimmt helfen“, sagte ich ihr und bewunderte die Art, wie ihre Titten ihr Polohemd ausfüllten. „Du willst mich bestimmt glücklich machen, oder?“

Jessie lächelte. „Dafür werden wir bezahlt, Sir.“

Ich schaute mich um, um ein Plätzchen zu finden, zu dem ich Jessie mitnehmen konnte, um sie zu ficken. Vielleicht gab es hier eine Toilette oder ein Hinterzimmer. Nein. Ich konnte sie genauso gut hier ficken, unter all den Leuten. In der Mitte der Computerabteilung war ein Stand aufgestellt, an dem man Reparaturen bestellen konnte. Ich hatte eine Idee. Ich sagte ihr, dass sie mir folgen sollte und führte sie hinter den Stand.

„Sie sollten nicht hier sein, Sir“, protestierte Jessie.

„Kann ich von hier aus eine Ansage machen?“ fragte ich sie.

„Ja“, antwortete sie. „Aber das ist für Kunden verboten. Das dürfen nur die Angestellten.“

„Schalte das System ein.“

Ohne weitere Frage nahm sie das Telefon in die Hand und wählte ein paar Zahlen. Als sie mir den Hörer gab, rief jemand hinter mir: „Hey, Kunden haben hier nichts zu suchen! Was machst du da, Jessie?“

Jessie starrte den glatzköpfigen Mann an, dessen Namensschild „Oscar“ sagte. Er war der Manager des Ladens. „Es tut mir leid, Sir“, stammelte sie. „Er muss eine Durchsage machen.“

Jetzt war es an Oscar, Jessie anzustarren. „Und du lässt ihn einfach? Komm schon, Jessie! Du arbeitest hier schon seit…“

Ich stoppte diese Tirade mit einem einfachen. „Ruhe!“ Ich kicherte, als ich sah, dass er sich beinahe auf die Zunge gebissen hätte beim Versuch, so schnell wie möglich zu gehorchen. „Erstens Oscar, alles war ich hier im Laden tue, ist erlaubt. Und zweitens wirst du jetzt zu den Camcordern gehen und den besten nehmen, den ihr habt. Du wirst den Karton aufmachen und das filmen, was ich hier mache.“ Er nickte. Es sah so aus, als wollte er etwas sagen und ich erinnerte mich an mein letztes Kommando. „Du darfst wieder reden.“ Ich würde mit meinen Befehlen ein wenig aufpassen müssen.

„Okay, Sir“, antwortete Oscar. „Jessie, dieser Mann hier darf tun, was er möchte. Hilf ihm bitte bei allem, was er tut.“

„Sicher, Oscar“, stimmte Jessie ihm.

Ich drehte mich wieder zu Jessie und nahm ihr den Hörer ab. „Kann ich?“

Sie nickte. „Einfach in das Telefon sprechen.“

„Achtung, Achtung, liebe Best Buy Kunden“, sagte ich über das Lautsprechersystem. „Ich möchte, dass jeder hier glaubt, dass es völlig normal ist, wenn Leute hier im Best Buy Sex miteinander haben. Niemand wird versuchen, sich bei Menschen einzumischen, die vor ihm Sex haben. Dass Leute Sex haben, verletzt die Gefühle von niemandem. Im Gegenteil, wenn Sie sehen, dass Menschen Sex haben, werden Sie erregt. Ich werde Jessie jetzt in der Computerabteilung ficken, sie können gerne kommen und dabei zuschauen. Alle anderen können einfach weiterhin einkaufen und den Nachmittag genießen. Vielen Dank für Ihre Aufmerksamkeit.“

„Moment, Moment“, rief Jessie und machte einen Schritt zurück. „Das wird natürlich nicht passieren, Arschloch!“

„Oscar hat dir doch gerade eben gesagt, dass du mich unterstützen sollst“, grinste ich sie an.

„Das hat er aber nicht gemeint“, protestierte Jessie.

„Doch, doch. Du möchtest doch gerne hilfsbereit sein. Mein Schwanz ist hart und er will kommen“, sagte ich ihr. „Und deine Muschi wird gerade ganz heiß und sie langweilt sich. Du brauchst dringend einen Schwanz. Also beuge dich über den Tresen und lass mich deine Fotze hart ficken.“

Der Ärger auf ihrem Gesicht verschwand und wurde durch Lust ersetzt. „Sorry, Sir, Sie haben natürlich recht. Mein Chef hat mir gesagt, dass ich Ihnen behilflich sein soll. Außerdem soll ich dafür sorgen, dass alle unsere Kunden zufrieden sind, wenn sie gehen.“

Oscar, der Manager, kam zurück und fing an zu filmen, als Jessie sich über den Stand nach vorne beugte. Ihr fester Arsch spannte ihre Khakihose. Jessie öffnete die Hose und wand sich heraus. Sie zeigte mir jetzt ihr kleines Höschen. Ich bedeutete Oscar, dass er diesen süßen Arsch aufnehmen sollte, wie er sich jetzt aus ihrem Höschen heraus schälte. Ihre Muschi war von blondem lockigem Haar umgeben und sie tropfte. Ihr Kitzler war hart und schaute vorwitzig aus seiner Haube hervor. Ihre kleinen Schamlippen waren geschwollen und schauten aus ihrem engen Schlitz heraus.

„Mach eine Nahaufnahme von dieser Fotze“, sagte ich Oscar, während ich meine Hose öffnete und meinen harten Schwanz herausholte.

Ich stellte mich hinter Jessie und rieb meinen Schwanz an ihrer Muschi. Sie stöhnte, als ich ihr meinen Schwanz in ihre warme einladende Tiefe hineindrückte. Sie war nass, aber nicht so eng wie Mary. Aber sie fühlte sich auf meinem Schwanz wirklich toll an. Um uns herum bildete sich langsam eine Gruppe von Angestellten und Kunden. Jessies Fotze spannte sich stramm um meinen Schwanz, weil sie offenbar durch die Zuschauer zusätzlich aufgegeilt wurde. Die Zuschauer feuerten mich an und ich fickte diese Frau hart und schnell, die Theke knarrte unter ihr.

Jessie schrie: „Fick meine Fotze! Fick meine Fotze!“

Ich schaute in die Zuschauer und bemerkte ein junges Pärchen, Mitte Zwanzig, das uns gespannt zusah. Der Mann sah durchschnittlich aus, hatte aber einen trainierten Körper. Die Frau bei ihm war eine kleine Blonde. Sie trug einen roten Rock, der ihr bis knapp unter die Knie reichte. Dazu hatte sie ein enges Oberteil an, das sehr tief ausgeschnitten war. Der Ausschnitt zeigte einen mächtigen Busen. Für eine so kleine Frau hatte sie einen erstaunlich großen Busen. Ein Ring glänzte an ihrer Hand und ein goldenes Armband schimmerte am Handgelenk des Mannes.

Ich starrte die Frau intensiv an und sie wurde rot. Gott, das war geil. Ich lächelte sie an und der Ehemann schaute seine Frau an und dann warf er mir Blicke zu, die mich hätten töten können. Ich leckte verführerisch meine Lippen, griff nach Jessies Hüften und wechselte zu langen und langsameren Stößen. Das machte Jessie verrückt. Sie bat darum, dass ich sie wieder schneller ficken sollte. Ich genoss ihre samtige Fotze, die meinen Schwanz festhielt, während ich sie fickte. Es fühlte sich einfach fantastisch an. „Gott!“ stöhnte ich. „Du fühlst dich so geil an, Jessie!“

„Sie sich aber auch, Sir“, japste sie. „Sie füllen mich ganz aus! Oh verdammt! Schneller! Oh verdammt, schneller!“

„Fick diese Schnalle richtig durch!“ rief einer der Zuschauer.

„Ja, gib es dieser Hure so richtig hart!“ schloss sich ein anderer an.

Das war eine wunderbare Idee. Also wurde ich wieder schneller und fickte Jessie wieder schnell und hart. Meine Eier zogen sich zusammen und klatschten bei jedem Stoß gegen ihren Kitzler. „Oh verdammt!“ stöhnte ich. Dann stieß ich ein weiteres Mal zu und entlud mich tief in ihrem Inneren.

Jessie keuchte. „Sind Sie jetzt befriedigt, Sir?“

„Das bin ich, danke!“ sagte ich und zog meinen Schwanz aus ihrer Fotze heraus. Mein Sperma lief aus ihrer Möse.

Jessie stöhnte enttäuscht. „Vielleicht wollen Sie ihn noch einmal reinstecken. Vielleicht wollen Sie noch eine zweite Runde?“

„Ich werde ihn dir reinstecken!“ rief einer der Zuschauer.

Ich wollte zwar eine zweite Runde, aber nicht mit Jessie. Ich schaute auf die kleine Ehefrau und sah, dass ihr Blick an meinem glänzenden Organ hin. „Bleib so, Jessie“, sagte ich ihr und dann drehte ich mich zu der Ehefrau. „Die Frau in dem roten Rock da, komm mal her.“

Als sie einen Schritt nach vorne machte, griff ihr Mann nach ihrem Arm. Sie versuchte, sich zu befreien. „Was machst du da, Erin?“ wollte er wissen.

„Lass mich los, Bill“, protestierte sie. „Ich muss zu ihm gehen. Bitte, Bill.“

„Lass Erin los“, befahl ich ihm. Er ließ seine Frau los und sie stolperte nach vorne und fiel beinahe hin. Dann fand sie ihr Gleichgewicht wieder und ging hinter den Tresen, Sie stand jetzt an meiner Seite und schaute mich an.

Erin war klein, sie reichte mir kaum bis an mein Kinn. Ich konnte das Kräutershampoo riechen, mit dem sie ihr Haar wusch. Ich schaute auf sie herunter und bemerkte, dass ihre Haarwurzeln dunkelbraun waren, sie war also keine echte Blondine. Ihre Augen waren haselnussbraun und sie hatten kleine Flecken von hellem Grün. Bill folgte seiner Frau hinter den Tresen. Sein Gesicht war vor Ärger gerötet. Er murrte in einem fort vor sich hin. Ich war ziemlich sicher, dass er gerade beschloss, mich zu schlagen. Ich sah zu Jessie hinüber, die noch immer über den Tresen gebeugt dastand. „Musst du jetzt kommen, Jessie?“ fragte ich sie.

„Dringend“, stöhnte sie und wackelte mit ihrem Arsch. „Bitte, steck mir deinen Schwanz wieder ein.“

„Bill, fick Jessie“, befahl ich. „Und hör nicht auf, bis es ihr gekommen ist.“ Bill ging jetzt auf Jessie zu. Er fummelte an seiner Hose herum und stolperte beinahe, so gierig war er, an ihre nasse Fotze zu kommen.

„Was zum Teufel machst du da?“ fragte seine Frau eisig. Sie versuchte, ihren Ehemann aufzuhalten, aber er wand sich leicht aus ihrem Griff heraus. Dann vergrub er sich mit einem Seufzer tief in Jessie. Sie fing an, auf den Rücken ihres Mannes zu schlagen und wollte ihn wieder herausziehen. „Hör auf, dieses Mädchen zu ficken, Bill! Was machst du denn da!“

„Ich kann nicht aufhören“, stöhnte Bill und pumpte mit seinen Hüften. „Ich muss sie einfach ficken.“

„Mmmmm“, machte Jessie. „Das ist besser. Geben Sie mir einen guten Fick, Sir.“

„Wie ist das, eine vollgespritzte Fotze zu ficken, Bill?“ fragte ich.

„Oh Gott“, stöhnte er. „Sie ist so nass, und eng. Scheiße, ist das gut.“

„William Connar!“ schrie Erin mit rotem Gesicht. Ihr Gesicht war schmerzverzerrt. „Warum tust du das?““

Ich zog Erin an mich heran und sie wand sich in meinem Griff. „Wehr dich nicht“, flüsterte ich in ihr Ohr. Dann nahm ich ihr Gesicht in die Hand. Sie entspannte sich in meinen Armen. Tränen schwammen in ihren Augen. „Erin, du möchtest gerne zu Bill zurück, nicht wahr?“

„Ja“, zischte sie und kämpfte mit den Tränen. Ihre Lippen waren rot und voll, also küsste ich sie. Sie erstarrte, wehrte sich aber nicht. Aber sie erwiderte meinen Kuss auch nicht. Ich erkannte, dass ich ihr nur gesagt hatte, dass sie sich nicht wehren sollte.

„Gut, jetzt setz dich mal auf den Tresen hier neben Jessie und fick mich“, sagte ich dir. „Damit wirst du es ihm schon zeigen.“

„Genau!“ schnarrte sie und hüpfte auf den Tresen. Sie setzte sich neben ihren Mann, der Jessie fickte. Sie spreizte ihre Beine und der Schatten zwischen ihren Schenkeln versprach mir kommende Lust.

„Bill, ich werde jetzt die Muschi deiner Frau lecken, bis es ihr kommt“, sagte ich ihm, während er Jessie hart fickte. „Und dann werde ich ihr meinen Schwanz in die Fotze stecken und tief in ihr drin kommen.“

„Was!“ wollte Bill zornig wissen. Immer noch fickte er Jessie hart. „Fass ja meine Frau nicht an, du Arschloch!“

„Du hast es gerade nötig, dich zu beschweren, wo du bis zu deinen Eiern in dieser Fotze steckst!“ gab seine Frau zurück.

„Entschuldigung!“ sagte Bill. „Ich konnte einfach nicht anders.“

„Bastard!“ zischte Erin.

Ich kniete mich vor sie und schob ihren Rock hoch. Ich legte einen purpurfarbenen String frei, der ihre Muschi bedeckte. Ich zog ihr den String herunter und schaute mir ihre wunderhübsche rasierte Muschi an. Ihre kleinen Schamlippen waren groß und dick und schauten etwa zwei Zentimeter aus ihrem Schlitz heraus. Ich strich mit einem Finger an ihren Schamlippen entlang und ihr Saft bildete Perlen auf ihren Schamlippen. Ihr Kitzler schwoll an. Ich fuhr mit meiner Zunge an ihrem Schlitz entlang und schmeckte ihr würziges Aroma. Erin stöhnte, als meine Zunge ihren Kitzler fand und um das harte Knöpfchen herum fuhr.

„Oh Gott, Mark kennt sich in einer Muschi gut aus“, keuchte Erin rachsüchtig. „Ganz anders als andere Männer, die ich kenne.“

„Ich versuch‘s ja!“ sagte Bill.

„Aber nicht gut genug!“ gab Erin zurück. „Verdammt, er wackelt mit seiner Zunge in mir. Mach weiter so!“

„Ständig nörgelst du nur rum. Nichts ist dir gut genug, Erin!“

Erin stöhnte und rieb ihren Kitzler an meinem Gesicht. „Oh verdammt! Das ist richtig gut! Und ich würde mich nicht beklagen, wenn du nicht gerade da so eine Hure ficken würdest.“

„Hey!“ protestierte jetzt Jessie. Sie wackelte mit ihrem Arsch um Bills Schwanz herum. „Ich bin keine Hure! Ich sorge nur für einen guten Dienst am Kunden!“

Erins linke Hand griff nach meinem Kopf und sie stöhnte tief und lang. Saft spritzte in meinen Mund, als es ihr hart kam. „Oh Gott, oh Gott!“ schrie sie. „Ich komme! Verdammt! Ist das gut!“

Ich stand wieder auf und schlang meine Arme um Erin. Ich versuchte, sie zu küssen. Sie drehte ihren Kopf und ich erwischte nur ihre Wange. Na ja, ich hatte ihr ja schließlich auch befohlen, dass sie mich ficken sollte und nicht küssen. Ich nahm meinen Schwanz in die Hand und rieb meine Eichel an ihren nassen Schamlippen. Ich bewegte sie von oben nach unten und wieder zurück. Ich stieß gegen ihren Kitzler und landete schließlich in ihrem Loch. Ich glitt hinein und es fühlte sich so geil an, in die Fotze einer verheirateten Frau zu gleiten.

„Gott, Bill!“ stöhnte ich. „Diene Frau ist fantastisch! So richtig schön eng!“

„Leck mich!“ rief Bill.

„Sorry Bill. Es macht mir zu viel Spaß, deine Frau zu ficken.” Erins Beine schlangen sich eng um meine Taille und ihre Hüften fickten mich zurück.

„Oh Gott!“ stöhnte Erin. „Er ist so tief in mir, Bill.“

Bill keuchte. Er fickte Jessie jetzt wirklich sehr hart. „Fühlt er sich so gut an wie mein Schwanz?“ fragte er verzweifelt.

Erin stöhnte. „Anders.“ Erin fing an zuzuschauen, wie Bill Jessie fickte. „Ist ihre Muschi besser als meine?“

„Anders“, sagte er.

„Oh, ich komme!“ keuchte Jessie. Sie ließ einen unterdrückten Schrei heraus, als es ihr kam.

„Oh, das fühlt sich irre an“, stöhnte Bill und er fickte Jessie tief und hart. „Hier kommt es, Hure!“ Bill spritzte in Jessie Fotze und dann zog er sich heraus und stolperte zurück. Er keuchte. Dann fasste er mich an der Schulter an und versuchte, mich von seiner Frau zu trennen. Zum Glück hatte sie ihre Beine fest um mich geschlungen und hielt mich so in ihrer Fotze.

„Lass los, Bill“, befahl ich. „Bleib stehen und schau zu, wie ich deine Frau ficke. Du kannst meinetwegen wichsen, wenn dich das anmacht.“

Jessie streckte sich und Sperma floss an ihren Beinen herunter. „Danke Bill“, sagte sie. „Es hat mir großen Spaß gemacht, Ihre Wünsche zu erfüllen.“

Ich schaute auf die Zuschauer. „Jessie beug dich wieder über den Tresen. Hier sind noch eine Menge mehr Männer, die ihre Befriedigung brauchen.“ Wieder schaute ich in die Menge, während ich Erin weiter fickte. „Wer möchte mal mit Jessie?“ fragte ich. Ein Angestellter namens Kevin hatte als erster seine Hand oben. „Kevin, fang an, ihre Fotze zu ficken. Alle anderen, die auch noch wollen, stellen sich bitte dahinter an.“

„Komm schon Erin, es tut mir leid“, sagte Bill. „Du kannst ruhig aufhören, ihn zu ficken.“

„Du hast in diese Fotze gespritzt“ zischte Erin und bewegte ihre Hüften. „Also kann er auch in meine spritzen!“

„Sorry“, murmelte Bill.

Ich fasste Erins große Titten durch ihr Kleid und durch ihren BH an. Ich spürte ihre harten Nippel. Erin knabberte an meinem Ohrläppchen und kratzte über meinen Rücken. „Gefällt es dir zuzuschauen, wie ich gefickt werde, Bill?“ fragte Erin ihren Mann.

„Nein“, antwortete Bill.

„Und warum ist dann dein Schwanz hart?“ fragte Erin. „Hmmm, der ist so hart! Es gefällt dir zuzuschauen, wie deine Frau richtig durchgefickt wird!“ Ihre Muschi verengte sich um meinen Schwanz. „Es gefällt mir, dass du zuschaust. Ich fühle mich so richtig sexy und verdorben.“

„Wirklich, Erin?“ fragte Bill zögernd.

„Mhhh“, stöhnte sie. „Wirklich. Zu wissen, dass du einen Steifen kriegst, wenn du mich beobachtest, macht mich total geil.“

Meine Hand glitt an ihrem Rücken nach unten und ich drückte ihren Arsch. Ich zog ihren Rock hoch und legte ihren Arsch frei. Dann fuhr ich mit meinen Fingern durch ihre Arschkerbe und drückte einen in ihr Arschloch. Sie keuchte und bockte mir entgegen. Dann lachte sie kehlig. „Ohh, ich mag deinen Finger in meinem Arsch!“ stöhnte sie mir ins Ohr. „Bill spielt nie mit meinem Arschloch.“

„Das ist schmutzig!“ protestierte er.

Erins Fotze drückte meinen Schwanz, als ich ihren Arsch fingerte. „Oh Gott, bin ich eine Schlampe!“ stöhnte sie. „Schau zu, wie es mir kommt, Bill!“ Ihre Fotze verkrampfte sich um meinem Schwanz, als es ihr kam. Sie molk meinen Schwanz geradezu. Ich stöhnte auf und entlud mich tief in ihr. Dreimal spritzte ich ihr meinen Saft in den Bauch. Ich zog meinen Schwanz heraus und sie lächelte ihren Mann an. „Steck deinen Schwanz in mein gefülltes Loch“, bat sie Bill.

Bill schaute voller Lust auf seine Frau und wichste seinen Schwanz. „Das möchte ich ja gerne, Erin“, sagte er.

„Dann mach schon, Bill“, keuchte sie. „Meine Fotze ist ganz nass und klebrig.“

„Du kannst dich wieder bewegen, Bill“, sagte ich und noch ehe ich den Satz beendet hatte, steckte er schon in ihr. Ihre Beine schlossen sich um ihn.

„Dein Schwanz fühlt sich in mir so geil an“, stöhnte Erin.

Ich nahm Oscar den Camcorder ab. „Danke“, sagte ich dem Manager. „Hole bitte noch ein paar Speicherkarten, den besten Windows-Laptop, den ihr habt und ein bisschen Zubehör. Die Sachen kosten mich nichts. Lass die Tüte für mich an der Kasse stehen. Dann darfst du dich an der Orgie beteiligen.“

„Natürlich, Sir“, sagte Oscar und ging los, um meinen Auftrag auszuführen.

Mit der Kamera strich ich über die Gruppe von etwa zwanzig Leuten, die zuschauten. Die meisten waren Männer, aber es fanden sich auch einige attraktive Frauen darunter. Ich befahl ihnen, nach vorne zu kommen. Es gab eine schwarzhaarige Schönheit, groß und mit großen Busen mit Namen Marcy. Fatima war ein dunkel aussehendes Mädchen aus dem Nahen Osten von etwa 19 Jahren, das ein Kopftuch trug, eine konservative Bluse und einen langen engen Rock. Dann waren da zwei Blondinen. Veronica war ziemlich blass und hatte nur einige wenige rote Glanzlichter in ihren Haaren und Ashley war eine Blonde mit meergrauen Augen und riesigen Brüsten, leicht 120 cm und DD-Körbchen. Ich ließ alle fünf in der ersten Reihe in der Mitte stehen.

„Meine Damen“, sagte ich. „Wählt euch einen Partner und fickt ihn.“ Ich schaute auf die Menge. „Wenn ihr ausgesucht werdet, tut ihr genau, was ihr tun sollt.“

Marcy, die rabenschwarze Frau, ging zu ihrem Freund und fing an, dessen Schwanz durch die Hose zu reiben. „Hast du da was für mich, Joe?“

Der Mann lächelte. „Oh Gott, ja, Marcy!“ Marcy holte seinen Schwanz heraus und nahm ihn sich vor. Sie nahm ihn in den Mund und Joey stöhnte: „Mann, das ist gut!“

Sie ließ seinen Schwanz aus dem Mund rutschen. „Magst du das, Süßer?“ fragte sie und leckte am Schaft nach oben. Dann nahm sie den Schaft wieder in ihren Mund.

„Ich liebe es, wenn du ihn lutschst, Marcy!“

Veronica hatte einen Mann aus der Gruppe ausgewählt. Ich sah einen Ehering an ihrer Hand glänzen, als sie mit dem Gürtel seiner Hose herum fummelte. Ein anderer Mann, vermutlich ihr Ehemann, schaute verblüfft zu. Veronica holten den Schwanz des Fremden heraus und wichste ihn. Dann zeigte sie auf den Boden. Der Mann legte sich hin, sein Schwanz stand nach oben, während sich Veronica aus ihrer Jeans und aus ihrem blauen Höschen schälte. Ich zoomte auf ihre Muschi und fand ein Büschel kurz gehaltenes brünettes Haar und dicke herausquellende Schamlippen. Sie hockte sich auf den Mann und setzte sich auf seinen Schwanz. Dann fing sie mit dem Rücken zu seinem Gesicht an, den Mann zu reiten. Sie winkte ihrem Mann und er ging zu ihr. Sie holte auch seinen Schwanz heraus und fing an, ihn zu lecken und zu lutschen.

„Verdammt, Veronica“, stöhnte ihr Ehemann, als sie ihren Kopf auf seinem Schwanz auf und ab bewegte. Der andere Mann griff nach ihren Hüften und führte die Bewegungen ihres Ficks. „Was ist nur in dich gefahren?“ fragte er. Veronica stöhnte nur um seinen Schwanz herum.

Fatima schließlich zog einer lockigen Brünetten, die für den Laden arbeitete, die Khakihose herunter. Auf ihrem Namensschild stand „Lucy“ und sie sah aus wie ein scheues Reh, als das dunkle Mädchen ihr erst die Hose und dann das gelbe Höschen über die Hüften zog. Lucys Muschi war blank rasiert bis auf einen Landestreifen aus braunem Haar, der zum obere Ende ihrer Muschi führte. Es war echt geil zu sehen, wie die Muslima einer anderen Frau mit Appetit die Möse leckte.

„Oh Scheiße“, stöhnte Lucy. „Was zum Teufel… Oh Scheiße! Das fühlt sich gut an! Leck meinen Kitzler!“

Mein Schwanz war total hart und ich wollte ihn in das Loch von irgendeinem Mädchen stecken. Es war mir egal, welches Mädchen und es war mir auch egal, welches Loch. Ich sah, wie Ashley mit ihren enormen Titten von einem mittelalten Mann gefickt wurde. Ihre Hose und ihr Höschen lagen auf dem Boden. Eines ihrer Beine war über die Arme des Mannes gehakt. So konnte man den Schwanz sehen, der sich in ihrer haarigen blonden Möse hin und her bewegte. Ihr Arschloch blinzelte mir zu.

Mein Schwanz war von Erin und Jessie noch nass, also steckte ich ihn ihr einfach in den Arsch. Sie kreischte überrascht und ihr Arsch fasste mich fest. Der andere Mann fickte sie einfach weiter in ihre Möse. Ich konnte seinen Schwanz durch die dünne Membran spüren. Das fühlte sich zwar ein bisschen merkwürdig an, aber ich war zu geil, als dass mir das etwas ausgemacht hätte. Ich nahm auf, wie mein Schwanz in den engen Arsch dieser Frau verschwand. Ihre Arschbacken wackelten. Ich lutschte an ihrem weißen Hals und genoss das Gefühl an meinem Schwanz.

„Oh Scheiße!“ murmelte der Mann. „Verdammt nochmal, ist ihre Fotze eng! Ich muss im Himmel sein!“

„Oh ja“, stöhnte Ashley. „Das ist so geil! Ich spüre, wie du deinen Saft in mich spritzt!“

„Verdammt, so schnell bin ich ja seit Jahren nicht mehr gekommen!“ seufzte der mittelalte Mann und zog sich aus der blonden Fotze zurück. Er drehte sich um und erstarrte. „Evie, was machst du denn da?“

Eine dickliche mittelalte Frau hatte einen Mexikaner bestiegen und ritt seinen Schwanz schnell und hart. Sie drehte sich um. „Ohh, ich habe nur etwas Spaß, Liebling“, keuchte sie und sie fickte sich auf dem Mann weiter. „Komm her und ich wichse dich, bis du wieder hart bist. Dann kannst du ihn in meinen Arsch stecken. Das hat so geil ausgesehen, wie ihr beide eben die Blonde da gefickt habt!“ Sie griff nach seinem Schwanz und wichste ihn ein paarmal. Dann nahm sie ihn in den Mund.

„Oh Evie!“ stöhnte der Mann. „Du hast ja schon seit Jahren meinen Schwanz nicht mehr gelutscht. Ich hatte ganz vergessen, wie gut sich das anfühlt.“ Seine Frau grinste um seinen Schwanz herum.

Ich fickte die Blonde weiter in ihren Arsch. Ich zog ihr dann ihre rote Bluse über den Kopf. Darunter fand ich einen beigefarbenen BH, der versuchte, die Masse ihres Tittenfleischs im Zaum zu halten. Ganz leicht öffnete ich ihren BH. Wenn man den Verschluss sah, ging es viel leichter. Dann fickte ich weiter ihren samtigen Arsch. Das weiche Fleisch ihrer Titten floss geradezu über meine Hände, als ich anfing, sie zu kneten. Die Blonde keuchte und fickte mir ihren Arsch entgegen. Meine Finger fanden ihre Nippel und sie fühlten sich dick und groß an. Ich drückte sie und drehte an ihnen.

„Oh verdammt!“ stöhnte die Blonde. „Fick meinen Hintern! Das fühlt sich so geil an!“ Ihre Finger waren zwischen ihren Beinen und spielten mit ihrer Fotze. „Verdammt, es kommt mir.“ Das rhythmische Pulsieren ihres Arsches, als sie ihren Orgasmus hatte, war zu viel für mich. Meine Eier zogen sich zusammen und ich explodierte tief in ihr. Ich blieb einen Moment lang in ihrem Arsch stecken, dann zog ich meinen Schwanz aus ihr heraus. Ihr Arsch war so eng, dass nichts von meinem Sperma herauslief.

Ich schlug ihr auf den Arsch und befahl: „Lutsch mir den Schwanz sauber, Schlampe!“ Lächelnd kniete sich die Blonde hin und lutschte mir den Schwanz ab. „Lutschst du gerne meinen Schwanz ab?“ Sie murmelte ihre Zustimmung.

Während sie meinen Schwanz lutschte, sah ich mich im Laden um. Es fickten jetzt wesentlich mehr Leute, als ich angeordnet hatte. Mehr oder weniger alle waren jetzt dabei. Frauen fickten einen oder zwei Männer. Eine Frau war auf Händen und Knien und lutschte einem Mann den Schwanz, während ein anderer ihren Arsch fickte. Ein glücklicher Mann hatte eine Frau auf seinem Schwanz sitzen und eine andere auf seinem Gesicht. Die beiden Frauen schmusten miteinander und streichelten einander die Titten, während der Mann unter ihnen beide genoss.

Fatima, die Kleine aus dem Nahen Osten, lag auf dem Rücken. Ihre Bluse stand offen und Lucy, die Angestellte, lutschte an ihren dunklen Titten mit den dunkelbraunen Nippeln. Gleichzeitig wichsten sich zwei Männer, die die beiden beobachteten. Lucy ging tiefer und zog Fatimas langen Rock nach oben und dann schob sie ihr einfaches weißes Höschen zur Seite. Dann fing sie an, ihr die Fotze auszulecken. Einer der beiden Männer stöhnte und schoss seinen weißen Saft über Lucys nackten Arsch und über ihre Fotze. Der andere Mann brauchte nur wenig länger, bis er seinen Saft auf Fatimas Titten spritzte. Sein weißes Sperma bildete einen hübschen Kontrast zu ihrer dunklen Haut.

Der ganze Laden war jetzt mit Stöhnen erfüllt. Leuten kam es und dann wurden sofort die Partner ausgetauscht. Ich sah, wie Bill zusah, wie ein Schwarzer seine Frau fickte. Er wichste langsam seinen Schwanz. Der Schwarze versuchte, ihren Mund zu küssen. „Ich küsse nur meinen Mann“, beschwerte sich Erin. Als der Schwarze in sie hineinschoss, stieß sie ihn weg und ging zu ihrem Mann. Die beiden küssten sich und Bill glitt wieder in seine Frau hinein. „Diesen Schwanz liebe ich wirklich“, stöhnte sie. Der Schwarze schüttelte den Kopf und ging weg.

Ich sah hinüber und bemerkte, dass Jessie immer noch über den Tresen gebeugt dastand. Wahrscheinlich wurde sie gerade von ihrem siebten oder achten Kerl durchgevögelt. Sperma floss in Bächen an ihren Beinen nach unten. Der Kerl in ihr grunzte und spritzte in sie hinein. Dann zog er sich heraus und ich sah ihre Fotze. Sie war obszön gespreizt und Sperma tropfte heraus. Ein weiterer Mann kam heran und stieß in sie hinein, genau in diesem Moment schrie Jessie, dass es ihr kam.

Verdammt, ich war schon wieder hart. Ich kniete mich hinter Lucy und stieß ihr meinen Schwanz in die Fotze. Mit einer Hand griff ich nach ihrer Hüfte und versuchte, das Sperma der anderen Männer auf ihrem Arsch und auf ihrem Rücken nicht zu berühren. Ich filmte, wie sie Fatimas Möse ausleckte. Lucys Fotze war eng wie ein Handschuh und sie saugte geradezu an meinem Schwanz. Fatima lächelte in die Kamera und spielte mit ihren Titten, die von Sperma bedeckt waren. Sie nahm große Kleckse der klebrigen Flüssigkeit mit ihren Fingern auf und lutschte dann ihre Hand ab. Sie wand sich unter Lucys Zunge. Dann lächelte sie mich schüchtern an, während sie an ihren dunklen Nippeln zog.

Ich fickte Lucy hart und schnell und filmte, wie Fatima unter Lucys Zunge keuchte und wie sie vor Lust ihr Gesicht verzog. Sie rief irgendetwas Arabisches, als es ihr kam. Ihr Saft spritzte in Lucys Gesicht. Lucy keuchte überrascht und wischte sich den Saft aus den Augen. Fatima keuchte und lächelte glücklich. Ihre Hand rieb mit langsamen Kreisen ihren Bauch. Ich näherte mich meinem Orgasmus. Ich war von Fatimas Spritzen total geil geworden. Ich wollte auf die beiden spritzen.

Ich zog mich aus Lucys Fotze heraus und winkte beide zu meinem Schwanz. Beide Mädchen knieten vor mir. Ihre Münder waren offen und sie hatten ihre Zungen herausgestreckt. Ich wichste meinen Schwanz, der von Lucys Saft noch ganz glitschig war, ein paarmal und dann schoss ich meinen Saft in weißen Strängen über ihre beiden Gesichter. Mein Sperma landete in Lucys krausem braunen Haar und auf Fatimas Kopftuch. Und dann küssten sich die beiden und leckten sich gegenseitig meinen Saft ab. Dabei teilten sie meinen Saft miteinander.

Ich würde gerne einmal sehen, wie Mary mein Sperma von der Brust einer anderen Frau ableckte. Und dann traf es mich. Scheiße. Ich hatte Mary ja total vergessen! Ich zog mein Telefon heraus und musste überrascht feststellen, dass ich schon vor zwei Stunden den Salon verlassen hatte. Mein Gott, vergeht die Zeit schnell, wenn man fickt. Mary wartete sicher im Salon schon auf mich. Bedauernd schaute ich mich um. Es gab noch eine ganze Reihe von Frauen, denn ich gerne meinen Schwanz reingesteckt hätte. Ich seufzte enttäuscht, stopfte meinen Schwanz wieder in meine Hose und ging in Richtung der Kassen. Überall ging ich an Pärchen vorbei, die auf dem Boden lagen und fickten.

Vorne waren zwei Mädchen im Alter von 18 oder 19, die die Kassen bewachten. Sie sahen gerade zu, wie eine Frau eine Wasserflasche in ihre Fotze rammte, während zwei Männer über sie wichsten und ihren Körper mit dickem weißem Sperma bedeckten. Diese beiden Mädchen hatten offenbar eine ganz besondere Einstellung zu ihrem Job, weil sie immer noch die Kassen besetzt hielten. Ich war der Meinung, dass das belohnt gehörte. Ihre Namensschildchen wiesen sie als Rosalita und Stacy aus.

„Oscar hat hier eine Tüte für mich hinterlegt“, sagte ich.

„Natürlich, Sir“, sagte Rosalita. Ihr Gesicht war vor Erregung gerötet und ihre Nippel waren klar zu erkennen. Sie bückte sich und nahm zwei große Tüten auf. Dann kam sie zu mir und gab sie mir.

„Vielen Dank, meine Liebe“, sagte ich. „Ihr verdient beide eine Belohnung, Stacy und Rosalita. Ich möchte, dass ihr beide euch jetzt auch auszieht und euch dann gegenseitig die Muschi leckt, bis es euch beiden kommt. Und dann sucht ihr euch jemanden zum Ficken.“

„Oh, vielen Dank, Sir“, stöhnte Rosalita. Sie warf ihr Shirt zur Seite und enthüllte einen schwarzen Spitzen-BH, der durchsichtig genug war, dass ich ihre dunklen Warzen sehen konnte. Ihr BH kam auch herunter und ich filmte ihre festen karamellfarbenen Titten und ihre rosafarbenen Nippel. Unter ihrer linken Titte hatte sie ein Tattoo. Dort stand in Schreibschrift „Sexy“. Und sie war wirklich sexy. Rosalita kickte ihre Schuhe weg und wand sich aus ihrer Unterwäsche. Stacy war noch schneller. Irgendwie war sie schon nackt. Stacys Titten waren kleiner als die von Rosalita. Sie war insgesamt schmaler und biegsamer im Vergleich zu Rosalitas üppigem und kurvigem Körper. Schließlich hatte Rosalita ihr Höschen auch nicht mehr an. Stacy zog sie auf den Boden herunter. Rosalita hockte sich über Stacys Gesicht und senkte ihren Kopf auf ihre Fotze. Stacy stöhnte und erwiderte die Liebkosungen, die sie erhielt. Sie stieß ihre Zunge in Rosalitas Fotze.

Ich seufzte. Jetzt musste ich aber wirklich gehen. Ich schaute ein letztes Mal auf die beiden Mädchen, die sich auf dem Boden wälzten und verließ bedauernd den Laden. Ich legte die beiden Tüten in den Kofferraum meines Autos und stieg ein. Diesmal sprang der Motor ohne weitere Klagen an. Ein Keilriemen quietschte schrill, als ich rückwärts aus meiner Parklücke herausfuhr. Eine Hupe sorgte dafür, dass ich auf die Bremse trat. Mein Herz schlug wegen der Überraschung schnell. Ich sah über meine Schulter und sah, dass ich beinahe rückwärts in einen silbernen Ford Mustang gefahren wäre.

Der Fahrer war ein Weißer, er hatte kaum noch Haare und war ziemlich dick. Er mag wohl Ende Vierzig, Anfang Fünfzig gewesen sein. Dieser Mustang war sicher ein Midlife-Crisis-Auto. Eine Frau, wahrscheinlich seine Ehefrau, saß auf dem Beifahrersitz. Sie sah altbacken aus. Sie war Ende Vierzig. Der Fahrer hupte ein zweites Mal und rief mir irgendetwas zu. Verdammt, dieser Typ ging mir auf den Sack! Und ich hatte doch sowieso schon darüber nachgedacht, dass ich mir ein neues Auto besorgen wollte. Nun war das zwar ein silberfarbener Mustang und kein schwarzer, aber damit konnte ich leben. Ich stieg aus und der andere Fahrer ebenfalls.

„Bist du eigentlich blind, du Blödmann?“ schrie der Mann mich an. Sein Gesicht war vor Zorn gerötet. „Hast du eigentlich einen Knall? Das ist ein ganz neues Auto, du Arschloch!“ Er hatte recht. Ich konnte sehen, dass noch die Marken vom Händler dran waren.

Seine Frau stieg nun auch aus. „Tony, steig wieder ein“, ordnete sie an.

„Ich mach das schon, Marge!“ rief Tony und dann drehte er sich wieder zu mir. „Bist du eigentlich taub? Du hast wohl deinen Führerschein im Lotto gewonnen, was?“

„Das ist ein schönes Auto“, sagte ich. Dieses Arschloch verdiente so ein Auto überhaupt nicht.

„Und du bist beinahe reingefahren“, brüllte er. „Meine Güte, was stimmt bloß mit eurer Generation nicht? Wahrscheinlich hast du gerade irgend so eine Scheiß-SMS auf deinem Handy geschrieben und nicht aufgepasst.“

„Tony und Marge, ihr tauscht jetzt das Auto mit mir“, sagte ich. „Und Tony, hör auf, mich anzubrüllen.“ Ich öffnete den Kofferraum meines Autos. „Tony, nimm die Tüten aus dem Kofferraum und lege sie in den Kofferraum von dem Mustang. Du wirst weiterhin die Raten und die Versicherung für den Mustang bezahlen. Jetzt setzt euch in euren neuen Ford Taurus. Das ist deine Strafe dafür, dass du so ein Arschloch bist. Ich will, dass du da drin sitzt und darüber nachdenkst, dass du absolut überreagiert hast.“

„Verdammt!“ murmelte Tony und nahm meine Tüten und stellte sie in den Kofferraum des Mustangs.

„Marge, im Best Buy gibt es gerade eine Orgie. Geh dort hin und ficke so viele Leute, wie du kannst.“ Marge nickte und ging in Richtung auf den Laden. „und erzähl deinen Mann hinterher alle verdorbenen Details.“

„Marge!“ protestierte Tony aus meinem Auto heraus.

„Das ist der zweite Teil deiner Strafe“, sagte ich Tony. „Du kannst mein Auto nicht verlassen, bis Marge wieder aus dem Best Buy herauskommt. Und dann wirst du ihr in aller Ruhe zuhören, wenn sie dir erzählt, wie viele Schwänze sie in ihren Löchern hatte und wie hart es ihr dabei gekommen ist.“

Ich musste lachen, als ich sah, wie niedergeschlagen Tony seiner Frau nachsah, als sie im Best Buy verschwand. Durch die Glastür konnte ich sehen, wie sie vor irgendeinem Typ auf die Knie fiel und anfing, ihm einen Blowjob zu geben. Tony würde wohl hoffentlich in der Zukunft nicht wieder ein derartiges Arschloch sein.

Ich stieg in meinen neuen Ford Mustang. Die Sitze waren mit Leder bezogen und sehr bequem. Das Auto roch noch ganz neu. Ich atmete tief ein. Ich hatte noch nie ein neues Auto besessen. Ich ließ den Motor aufheulen. Ein böses Geräusch. Ich trat die Kupplung durch und legte den ersten Gang ein. Dann ließ ich den Motor erneut aufheulen und dann schälte ich mich aus dem Parkplatz. Gott, dieses Auto hatte Kraft! Es war eine Schande, dass ich nur vier Blocks weit in dichtem Verkehr fahren musste.

Erregt fuhr ich auf den Parkplatz vor dem Salon. Ich konnte es gar nicht abwarten, Marys gewachste Fotze anzuschauen. Mit dem Camcorder in der Hand ging ich in das Studio. Mary saß auf einer Bank und schmuste mit der thailändischen Empfangsdame. Marys Hände stecken in der geöffneten Hose der Empfangsdame und sie fingerte ihre Fotze. Die Empfangsdame fasste Marys Titten durch das Starbucks Poloshirt an.

„Das sieht ziemlich scharf aus, Mare“, sagte ich und filmte, wie meine Freundin an einem anderen Mädchen herumfummelte.

Mary beendete den Kuss und lächelte mich an. „Hey, Mark“, rief sie und dann fingerte sie die Rezeptionistin hart.

„Es tut mir leid, dass es so lange gedauert hat“, sagte ich. „Irgendwie habe ich nicht auf die Zeit geachtet.

Mary grinste mich an. „Ist völlig okay. Malai und ich haben eine ganz nette Art gefunden, uns die Zeit zu vertreiben.“ Malai stöhnte nur. Mary knabberte an ihrem Hals und flüsterte in ihr Ohr: „Kommst du jetzt für mich, Baby?“

„Oh ja“, seufzte Malai. „Reib nur meinen Kitzler weiter.“ Sie zuckte, als es ihr kam. Sie stöhnte ohne Worte.

Mary stand auf und lächelte sexy in den Camcorder. Dann leckte sie sich den Saft von Malai von den Fingern. Sie war so wunderschön mit ihrem herzförmigen Gesicht und den Sommersprossen, mit der kleinen süßen Nase und ihren tiefen smaragdfarbenen Augen. Ihr rotbraunes Haar war zu einem sexy Pferdeschwanz gebunden. Einige Strähnen waren entkommen und fielen ihr lose ins Gesicht. Sie posierte wie ein Pin-Up-Girl aus den 40-er Jahren und warf der Kamera eine Kusshand zu.

„Gefällt dir dein neues Spielzeug?“ fragte sie und schlenderte zu mir herüber.

„Ja, ich hatte schon eine Menge Spaß damit.“

„Bist du deswegen so spät?“

Ich lächelte und nickte. Mary streckte ihre Hand zu mir aus und hielt mir ihre klebrigen Finger an die Lippen. Die Rezeptionistin schmeckte sauer und würzig. Mary lehnte sich vor und küsste mich. Auf ihren Lippen schmeckte ich ein anderes Mösenaroma. „Joy?“

Mary grinste nur und küsste mich noch einmal. „Danke, dass du das so arrangiert hast“, sagte sie. „Sie hat meine erste Wachsbehandlung zu einem sehr angenehmen Erlebnis gemacht. Und wessen Muschi schmecke ich an deinem Mund?“

„Das müsste eigentlich Erin sein“, sagte ich ihr. „Ich habe sie gefickt, während ihr Ehemann zugesehen hat.“

Mary lachte verdorben. „Du bist ja vielleicht verdorben!“ Sie küsste mich noch einmal und dann fragte sie: „Willst du meine gewachste Muschi sehen?“

Sie zog ihr schwarzes Poloshirt aus und zeigte ihre perfekten Titten. Blasse kleine Halbkugeln mit rosafarbenen Warzen und harten Nippeln. Sommersprossen waren auf ihrer Brust und auf den Brüsten. Sie unterstrichen ihre Schönheit noch. Ich zoomte auf beide Titten. Sie kickte ihre Schuhe weg, drehte sich dann um und fing an, ihre Hose zu öffnen. Mary zog ihre Hose und das weiße Höschen nach unten und zeigte mir ihren vollen runden Arsch. Ich schlug ihr spielerisch darauf und Mary kicherte. Sie wackelte mit ihrem Arsch für die Kamera.

Ich leckte meine Lippen und rückte meinen harten Schwanz in meiner Hose zurecht. Mary drehte sich um und hielt eine Hand vor ihre Muschi. „Bist du bereit?“

„Gott, ja!“

Sie zog ihre Hand weg und zeigte mir das feuerrote Herz oberhalb des blanken Schlitzes ihrer Fotze. Ich pfiff anerkennend. Dann streckte ich einen Finger aus und fuhr damit um ihre weichen Schamlippen herum und dann in ihren engen Schlitz hinein. Sie war nass und heiß und ihr Kitzler war ein kleiner harter Knopf. Mary seufzte, als ich ihren Kitzler berührte. „Perfekt, Mare“, sagte ich bewundernd. Ich fiel vor ihr auf die Knie und machte eine Nahaufnahme ihrer weichen Schamlippen.

„Das ist gut“, sagte Mary. „Es hat nämlich wehgetan!“

„Das tut mir leid. Vielleicht wird es ja besser, wenn ich sie ein wenig küsse?“

„Vielleicht…“ sagte sie mit einem Lächeln.

Ich küsste das rotbraune Herz. Dass Haar kitzelte meine Lippen. Dann küsste ich die weiche Haut um das Herz herum. Dabei bewegte ich mich langsam um das obere Ende herum und dann an den Seiten nach unten. Dann ging ich noch tiefer und küsste die Seiten ihrer Schamlippen. Jetzt schmeckte ich ihr würziges Aroma. „Besser?“ fragte ich und schaute zu ihr auf.

„Ein bisschen schon. Vielleicht könntest du auch… ohhh!“ Sie keuchte vor Lust, als ich anfing ihren Kitzler zu küssen und an ihm zu knabbern. Ich fuhr mit meiner Zunge immer wieder über ihren Lustknopf. „Mhhh, du siehst gut aus mit Muschi in deinem Gesicht“, sagte Mary kehlig und sie filmte mich. „Leckst du gerne meine Muschi?“

„Ich liebe sie, Mare“, stöhnte ich. Mein Mund war mit ihrem klebrigen Saft gefüllt. „Mein Fohlen schmeckt toll!“

„Ohh, das machst du so gut, Liebling“, stöhnte sie. „Mach das an meinem Kitzler weiter! Verdammt, das ist so gut!“

Ich nahm ihren Arsch in die Hände und zog ihre Fotze ganz nah an mein Gesicht heran. Ihr Saft überflutete mein Gesicht und ich trank ihren süßen Nektar. Mary keuchte, als ich einen Finger in ihrem engen Arsch versenkte. Ihre Hüften zuckten und ihre Fotze tanzte auf meinem Gesicht. Jetzt war ihr Stöhnen sehr laut und es klang ganz tief. Ihr Arschloch drückte meinen Finger. „Oh ja! Mir kommt es! Ich komme!“ Ihre Stimme war schrill als es ihr kam. Ihr ganzer Körper wand sich hin und her. „Oh verdammt, das war so gut, Liebling!“

Ich küsste mich an ihrem Körper nach oben bis zu ihrem flachen Bauch. Dort hielt ich an ihrem Bauchnabel an. Ich schleckte ihn mit meiner Zunge aus. Dann kam ich zu ihren kleinen Brüsten und küsste ihre beiden Nippel. Ich küsste die Höhle unter ihrem Hals und schmeckte ihren salzigen Schweiß. Dann ging ich an ihrem Hals nach oben bis zu ihrem Ohr. Ich knabberte vorsichtig an ihrem Ohrläppchen. Dann küsste ich mich an ihrem Unterkiefer wieder nach unten und kam schließlich bei ihren weichen Lippen an. Ihre Zunge streichelte meine Lippen.

„Mmmm, du schmeckst so toll“, sagte sie und leckte ihre Lippen. „Du hast versprochen, dass du mit mir einkaufen gehst.“

Ich lachte. „Ja, Mare. Jetzt wollen wir mal sehen, was wir beide zusammen noch für Probleme verursachen können.“

Mary grinste. „Ich kann es gar nicht mehr abwarten.“

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

„Vielen Dank, Schwester Theodora“, sagte Esmeralda. Sie umarmte mich und küsste meine beiden Wangen.

Ich lächelte der älteren Hispanischen Frau zu, bevor ich mich umdrehte, um die Halle für die Gemeindemitglieder von St. Afra abzuschließen. Ich war erst seit zwei Wochen die Verwalterin der Kirche und ich fand, dass die Gemeindemitglieder eine warmherzige und freundliche Gruppe von Menschen waren. Ich war schon zwölf Jahre lang Schwester Theodora Miriam von den Schwestern von Maria Magdalena. Seit mich eine dieser Schwestern aus dem Schmutz meines bisherigen Lebens gerettet hatte. Während dieser Zeit hatte ich für verschiedene Kirchen gearbeitet und St. Afra war mit Abstand die angenehmste.

„Ich wünsche dir einen schönen Tag“, sagte ich Esmeralda mit einem Lächeln. Ich winkte der 70-Jährigen nach, während sie in Richtung Straße ging.

Die Sonne von Los Angeles brannte auf mich herunter und ich fing in meinem grauen Habit und dem weißen Schleier an zu schwitzen. Ich wischte mir den Schweiß von der Stirn und ich hoffte, dass ich mich irgendwann an die Hitze gewöhnen würde. Mein letzter Posten war in Winnipeg in Kanada gewesen. Ich fächelte mir mit der Hand ein wenig Luft zu und ich dankte Gott, dass ich nicht den Vollschleier tragen musste, den die älteren Nonnen trugen. Ich ging über den Kirchhof zum Haus.

Das Haus war klein. Es war ein typischen Backsteingebäude mit einem Dach aus verblassten roten Dachziegeln. Innen gab es eine kleine Küche, ein Bad, ein Schlafzimmer und ein kleines Wohnzimmer, das auch als Esszimmer diente. Ich schloss die Haustür auf und betrat das kühle Innere des Hauses. Die Klimaanlage lief. Ich dankte Gott, dass er dafür sorgte, dass sie funktionierte.

Ich setzte mich auf die verblasste blaue Couch und schaltete den Fernseher an. Gerade liefen die Abendnachrichten. Der Sportreporter sprach über das Spiel der Dodgers vom gestrigen Abend. Sie hatten in der Nachspielzeit gewonnen. Ich zog meine Schuhe aus und rieb meine Füße mit der Hand. Ich beschloss, mich ein paar Minuten zu entspannen, bevor ich mir das Abendbrot zubereitete.

„In einem Best Buy in Puyallup, Washington State, ist es gestern zu einem Gasleck gekommen“, sagte die Nachrichtensprecherin. Sie war eine Hispanic mit dicken Titten, die zusätzlich eine tief ausgeschnittene Bluse trug, damit ihre Ausstattung auch ja zur Geltung kam. „Die Kunden beim Best Buy erhielten deutlich mehr, als sie eigentlich wollten, weil das Gas ein ziemlich merkwürdiges Verhalten erzeugte.“

„Alle zogen ihre Kleidung aus“, fuhr der männliche Sprecher fort. „Und überall im Laden kam es zu unangemessenem Verhalten.“ Er war ein glattrasierter Weißer mit breiten Schultern und kantigem Aussehen, das zwischen meinen Beinen zu einem gewissen Jucken führte.

Das Filmmaterial zeigte, wie eine Frau außerhalb des Geschäfts interviewt wurde. Hinter ihr führten Feuerwehrleute und Polizisten stolpernde Männer und Frauen heraus. Alle waren in gelbe Decken gehüllt. Die Menschen wurden zu wartenden Krankenwagen geführt. „Ich bin in den Best Buy gegangen und da waren lauter nackte Menschen“, sagte die Frau, die interviewt wurde. „Das war beängstigend. Überall haben Menschen geBiiieeep.“

„Die Behörden berichten, dass über dreißig Personen in lokale Krankenhäuser gebracht worden sind, um untersucht zu werden“, sagte der männliche Sprecher, als man wieder die Bilder aus dem Studio sah. „Man erwartet keine bleibenden Schäden.“

„Die Quelle des Gases konnte noch nicht identifiziert werden“, sagte die weibliche Sprecherin. „Die Behörden schließen einen terroristischen Hintergrund nicht aus“

Ich schaltete den Fernseher aus. Das war kein terroristischer Anschlag. Das war das Werk eines Hexers. Von irgend so einem armen Kerl, der seine Seele dem Teufel verkauft hat, Wenn ich richtig über die Orgie nachdachte, musste es ein trauriger einsamer Mann sein, der es niemals zuvor gemacht bekommen hatte und der jetzt seine jugendlichen Fantasien auslebte. 700 Jahre lang hatte mein Orden schon gegen die Macht des Bösen gekämpft. Eine meiner Schwestern, vielleicht sogar ich selber, würde bald die Ekstase empfangen und in den Kampf geschickt werden. Um den Hexer und seine Leibeigenen zu exorzieren. So war ich zum Orden gekommen. Ich war die Leibeigene eines Hexers gewesen. Er hatte mich meinem Mann und meiner wunderbaren Tochter weggenommen und mich mit seiner Lust degradiert. Und dann hatte mich Schwester Louise Afra erlöst. Und seitdem kämpfte ich auch den Kampf Gottes.

„Bitte Gott“, betete ich. „Lass mich dein Instrument gegen dieses Übel sein.“ Erregung baute sich in mir auf. Es war zwei Jahre her, seit ich einen Hexer exorziert hatte. Meine Hand öffnete den Gürtel meines Habits und hob die Robe an. Ich legte meine einfache Unterhose frei. Ich berührte meinen Schoß und spürte, wie meine Muschi in meinem Höschen feucht wurde. Ich rieb meinen Kitzler durch den Stoff und genoss die Gedanken an den letzten Exorzismus, den ich gemacht hatte.

Dieser Hexer hatte einen riesigen Schwanz gehabt und er hatte meine Vagina gedehnt, bis es wehtat, ein angenehmer Schmerz, der den Druck seines Fleisches noch angenehmer machte. Ich schob mein Höschen zur Seite und steckte zwei Finger in meine Fotze. Ich erinnerte mich daran, wie hart es mir gekommen war, als dieser Hexer mir seinen Saft reingeschossen hatte und als ich ihm mit meinem Orgasmus die Macht des Teufels abnahm.

„Oh bitte, Gott“, betete ich und fickte mit meinen Fingern meine Fotze hart. Ich drückte mit meiner Handwurzel fest gegen meinen Kitzler. „Oh bitte, Gott. Es ist schon zwei Jahre her, dass ich einen Mann in mir hatte, oh Herr!“ Ich konnte den Geruch meiner Erregung riechen und ich genoss den würzigen Duft. „Zwei Jahre, seit ich gegen das Böse gekämpft habe. Wenn es dein Wille ist, oh Herr, dann sende mich in den Kampf.“ Mein Orgasmus rollte über mich hinweg. Meine Fotze klemmte meine Finger ein. Ich atmete heftig, nahm meine Hand hoch und leckte den würzigen Saft von meiner Hand. Ich genoss die Nachwehen meines Orgasmus und schlug dann das Kreuz. „Im Namen des Vaters, des Sohnes und des Heiligen Geistes, Amen“, schnurrte ich und griff wieder an meine Fotze.

Ich musste noch einmal kommen.

To be continued…

Click here for Kapitel 4

Der Pakt mit dem Teufel Kapitel 2: Der Salon

 

 

Der Pakt mit dem Teufel

Kapitel 2: Der Salon

Von mypenname3000

Übersetzt von Horem

© Copyright 2013, 2014


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

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

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



Click here for Kapitel 1



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Verdorben?“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Antsy? Das ist aber ein merkwürdiger Name.“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Und wo gehst du ins College?“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Hier kommt es, Mare!“ stöhnte er.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Wie heißt du?“ wollte er wissen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joy nickte. „Okay Miss.“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Ich dachte, du wärest keine Lesbe?“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Click here for Kapitel 3

The Devil’s Pact Chapter 37: Mary Magdalene

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Chapter 37: Mary Magdalene

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2013, 2014


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

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

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



Click here for Chapter 36.



Violet Matheson – Tacoma, WA

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Instead it was the lightest of touch.

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

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

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

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

Mary Glassner – Osage Field, Kansas

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” Sam answered. “Light it.”

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

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

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

I needed necromancy.

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

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

Everything went still, quiet. Deathly.

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

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

My heart froze, I knew that face.

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you waiting for?”

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

“Does Brandon Fitzsimmons have a sister?”

“No, just a brother,” Karen answered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Karen was gone.

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

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

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

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

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

“Please, Mary,” my mom begged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I had a long flight to France to ponder it.

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

Desiree de la Fuentes – Tacoma, WA

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

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

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

Safe with Mistress.

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

I shuddered; the woman said ‘him’ with such a worshipful manner. I had heard Brandon’s pronouncement—he claimed he was a God now. As if he could even compare to Master, I thought with derision. The women handed me a black dress to wear. It was similar to one Brandon bought me before Mark claimed me, low cut and tight, showing off all of my body’s ample assets.

“Take off the choker,” Stocky ordered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My blood chilled. I wondered what had happened to Brandon. I never loved him, but he wasn’t an evil man. Right? He always seemed nice and attentive. He had a temper, sure, but I was having trouble reconciling the man I married and the monster that appeared today. Stocky prodded me and I realized that I had frozen in my tracks. Swallowing, I started walking forward again.

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

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

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

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

“You’re his slut,” I corrected.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He knelt before me, his fat, disgusting body pressed atop me. “You’ll feel my cock, whore!”

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

“Cunt!” he snarled and slapped me.

My head rang and everything went hazy for a moment. I shook my head then felt a burning pain in my pussy as his cock forced its way in. I was dry; Brandon didn’t seem to care. He just kept pumping away. I suppressed a groan, I wasn’t about to let the bastard know just how much he was hurting me. Looking up, his neck was right above me, his throat exposed.

I could bite him, maybe rip out his artery. Then this all would be over. I could save us all! I lunged my head and bit into his neck, hard. I tasted coppery blood and bit harder, driving my teeth deeper into his neck. He pulled away, roaring in pain.

“Goddamn fucking whore!” he shouted, his left hand clutching at his bleeding throat.

There was a bloody bite, but it wasn’t deep enough. He raised his right fist up and slammed it into my face. The back of my head hit the hard concrete and everything was fuzzy after that. I was barely aware of Brandon pumping away inside me. The world seemed to swim drunkenly about me. My head lolled to the side and I stared at the knees of one of the women holding me down, a gray pebble stuck to her leg. Then everything just faded away.

It was the pain that brought me back. My head was splitting and there was a burning pain down in my pussy. I could feel a crushing weight on top of me. I struggled to open my eyes and there was Brandon, his neck covered with a white bandage. He was still raping me, I realized. I felt raw and sore inside and every thrust of his cock was agony.

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

I struggled to speak, but my head ached too much and then darkness fell on me again. I don’t think I was out long, Brandon was still pumping away inside me when I woke up the second time. His face contorted in pleasure and then I realized with a disgusted shudder that he was shooting his cum inside me.

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

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

“My Lord, sunset approaches,” a man said; his voice seemed distant even though I could see him standing right behind Brandon.

I moaned in relief as Brandon pulled out of me. He looked down at me, considering. “I can’t have you looking all ugly,” Brandon said with a shake of his head. He bent down and muttered a word and heat flashed through me and a scarlet light seemed to envelop my body. The heat banished the pain, and the fuzz clouding my thoughts was burned away as Brandon healed me. “Stand up, Desiree, I want you to see something.”

I felt dirty as I stood up, Brandon’s cum leaking out of my pussy. I wanted to throw-up, to run and hide, but I wasn’t going to give my rapist any more satisfaction than I had to. Holding my head high, I followed Brandon out into the exercise yard. While I had been lying senseless, a large fire had been built in the center, lighting up the courtyard as the sky darkened. The Mayor of Tacoma and his wife, Yoon, waited at the fire.

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

One of the military generals walked up and handed Brandon a long knife. The knife’s blade glinted orange and yellow in the firelight as it flashed through the air. I jumped in shock as Brandon drove the knife into Mayor Bray’s chest. The Mayor stared dumbfounded at the blade in his chest, the blood blossoming red through his shirt. Then General Brooks shoved the Mayor and he fell into the fire. Yoon screamed and collapsed to her knees, crying as her husband was engulfed in the flames.

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

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

There was something moving in the flames. I flinched and stumbled back as a hulking figure stepped out. His skin was black as soot and covered in angry, red fissures that glowed with the being’s inner flames. His eyes were coals that burned with hatred, and the air danced and shimmered about him and smoke poured out of his nostrils and mouth. The fire abruptly died down and the terrible screaming stopped. The figure surveyed the crowed and everyone retreated before his terrible gaze.

Everyone, except Brandon.

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

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

I shuddered in fear as Molech’s burning eyes fixed on me, peering into me, into my soul, leaving me feeling used. Soiled worse even than Brandon’s rapes. “Impossible. She is bound too tightly to him. What else, Mortal.”

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

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

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

Molech smiled and I could feel the lust radiating off of him. Rising from his groin was a black, smoking cock. He reached down and grabbed Yoon; her flesh shriveled where he touched her. She screamed in agony as he dragged her off into the prison. I fell to my knees, heaving violently. What sort of monster did I marry? Yoon’s screams echoed from the prison.

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

I shuddered in fear, looking up at Brandon.

He was younger now, I realized, in his twenties. His clothes hung loosely on him, his balding hair had regrown and his now too-large pants slipped off his waist, revealing a muscular, flat stomach. His cock was hardening; Yoon still screaming in the background.

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

Yoon’s screams sent ice pumping through my veins. My will snapped before the fear of Molech. Feeling like the most disgusting, lowest creature in the world I knelt in submission before my rapist. I grabbed his cock, opened my mouth, and sucked it inside. I tried to look happy on the outside. I had to please him. I didn’t want to be given to Molech.

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

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

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

Leah Hirsch-Goldstein-Blum – Tacoma, WA

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

“What’s going on?” I asked.

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

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

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

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

“Beatrice,” the woman sobbed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Chooses what?” Beatrice asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yet.

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

Lana Paquet-Holub – Seattle, WA

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

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

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

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

So close.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mother needs us?” Emi asked.

I nodded. “Come on.”

Both girls smiled and looked almost cute. Almost.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mark Glassner – Tacoma, WA

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

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

My tongue was my power.

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

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

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

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

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

I failed her!

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

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

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

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

“Hello, Mark,” she greeted tenderly.

“I am ready to learn.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And restrained,” I muttered.

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

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

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

“How?” I asked, frowning.

“Tsalmaveth.”

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

Violet Matheson – Tacoma, WA

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bang! Bang! Bang!

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

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

Achoo!

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

“Clear!” one soldier yelled from upstairs.

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

I kissed her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But the fear and stress was bubbling back up.

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

Mary Glassner – Toulouse, France

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

I wasn’t going to let my husband down.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Who was this woman?

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

So why is she so calm?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where did you hear that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What have we done?

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

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

“Old writings?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 38.

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

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Chapter 36: The God-King

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2013, 2014


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

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

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



Click here for Chapter 35.



Saturday, September 28th, 2013 – Mark Glassner

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

The soldiers ignored my commands.

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

Fuck! This was very bad!

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

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

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

Holy shit! I was not prepared for this!

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

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

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

They could be coming for Mary.

“51, Fallen Eagle!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh my god!

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

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

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

Mary Glassner

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We need to go, ma’am!” 47 insisted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Brandon Fitzsimmons

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

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

“Do you have Mark?” I demanded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mark Glassner

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Leah’s shot!” another person shouted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shit!” 51 shouted. “Back, back!”

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

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

“Keep running!” 51 shouted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No! I can’t lose you, Mark!

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

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

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

I froze.

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

Mary Glassner

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

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

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

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

Then she tossed her Nextel out the window.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mark Glassner

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

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

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

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

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

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

And probably my execution, I thought bleakly.

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

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

How was I getting out of this?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, my Lord,” the Colonel saluted.

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

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

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

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

I howled wordlessly in agony.

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

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

Mary Glassner

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

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

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

But I couldn’t!

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

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

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

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

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

“I know,” I said sadly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

President Baumgarten

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

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

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

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

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

My God.

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

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

It was humbling.

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

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

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

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

Mark Glassner

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

It was poetic.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Summoning the Angel of Death to my dreams.

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

Mary Glassner

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” I sighed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 37.

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

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Chapter 33: The Calm Before the Storm

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2013, 2014


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

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

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



Click here for Chapter 32.



The Wedding, July 20th, 2013

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Today Show Set, July 1st, 2013

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” Savannah answered, frowning.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How about a demonstration?” Mary asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Wedding, July 20th, 2013

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Good Samaritan Hospital, July 4th, 2013

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She frowned. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I am, Mare!” Mark panted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Wedding, July 20th, 2013

I was freaking out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mountain View Court Estates, June 29th, 2013

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

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

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

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

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

“Marco!” he yelled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I straddled Dad, guiding his hard cock to my wet cunt as Mom slid up to sit on his face. Her blonde bush was messy with her juices and Dad’s cum. Dad didn’t seem to mind, though, and Mom moaned as he ate her pussy out. I sighed in satisfaction as I felt my dad’s cock fill me all the way up. Mom grinned happily at me and I realized just how much alike we looked. I leaned in and kissed the blonde version of myself.

I loved the feel of Dad’s cock inside me. It was the last chance for me to fuck him for awhile. My period should start tomorrow, and then I was going off the pill so Mark and I could have our own child. I was jealous of Korina for beating me to the punch. I rode Dad faster, enjoying his cock rubbing against the sensitive sheathe of my pussy and Mom’s tongue probing my mouth. I gripped her blonde hair and devoured her lips.

My orgasm was building quickly as I slammed up and down on Dad. My mom broke the kiss and she bent down and started sucking at my nipple. “Oh, fuck, that’s nice, Mom!” Her tongue swirled about my nipple, and then she would suck and nibble. Mom sure knew how to please a woman. I cradled my mom’s head to my breast as my orgasm crashed through me. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I moaned as I kept fucking Dad.

“Umm, was that a nice one, sweety?” Mom asked.

I smiled and nodded and I bent down to suck on my mom’s nipple. I teased her nipple, gently brushing it with my tongue as she writhed atop Dad’s face. Then I sucked the hard nub into my lips, enjoying the feel of her fat nipple on my lips.

“Oh my baby’s sucking at my breast again,” Mom moaned, stroking my cheeks. “Oh yes, that feels so lovely. How I missed you, Mary.” Her body trembled as she came on Dad’s lips.

Dad lasted a long time inside me. He didn’t have Mark’s recuperative powers and it took him awhile to cum. But Mom and I had a few more orgasms before then as we enjoyed Dad. We kissed each other and played with each other’s breasts. Dad moaned loudly into Mom’s cunt as his cock flooded my pussy with his sperm and the feel of my Dad’s cum flooding my pussy triggered another orgasm. This one wasn’t as intense as the others, but fluttered pleasantly through my body.

I rolled off Dad, my legs sore, and I enjoyed the warm, wet feeling of Dad’s cum in my pussy. “You need to eat me out, Mom,” I told her. “To complete the spell.”

“Sure, sweety,” Mom smiled, and slid between my legs.

I could feel Mom’s breath warm on my pussy as she lowered her face. “Zimmah,” I whispered as she took her first swipe of the incestuous mess between my thighs. I felt the energy flow from Dad into the two of us.

“Oh, wow,” Mom breathed. “We’ll be together, forever, won’t we?”

“Yeah, Mom,” I smiled as she dug her lips into my pussy and began to eat me out. “One happy family, forever.”

“Forever,” Dad whispered and then he leaned over and kissed me and I tasted Mom’s delicious pussy on his lips. Forever with Mark and my family and our sluts, I thought happily as Mom’s sucking lips brought me to a delicious orgasm.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Wedding, July 20th, 2013

I glanced at Rose as I waited. She was officiating our wedding, and the teenager was wearing a simple, black dress, that was very low cut and I found myself admiring her cleavage. She had a nice, round pair of breasts that filled out the bodice very nicely. Rose saw my stare and flushed happily, her hand playing with the end of her long, golden braid.

“Are you wearing panties?” I asked Rose.

The fifteen year old beamed at me. “Of course not, my Lord. I follow all the teachings.” Rose’s fingers pulled up the hem of her skirt, exposing her blonde bush. “Panties should only be worn to excite your lover or when your period is upon you. Otherwise, a pussy should be free and ready to be entered,” Rose quoted.

“You definitely look ready to be entered,” I smiled.

Rose bent over the altar, holding her skirt up, exposing her tight, teenage ass. “I am ready for my Lord’s pleasure.”

“Jesus,” Quatch muttered, earning a glare from Rose. “Wish I was a God.”

I grinned at Quatch as I moved behind Rose and unzipped my pants. The audience was growing restless as the wait for Mary dragged on, and no-one objected to what I was doing, thanks to my commands. A few watched with interest and Alison gave me a thumbs up and then started kissing her new wife, Desiree.

“Oh my God!” Rose moaned as I entered her tight pussy. I caught her sister-wife, Daisy’s, envious face as she watched her twin getting fucked. Daisy and Rose drew straws to see who would get to officiate our wedding and Daisy was clearly disappointed that she lost. Rose continued moaning, “Fuck me, my Lord! Oh, fuck my juicy cunt!”

I pounded her tight cunt hard and fast and grabbed her blonde braid and pulled her head back. Her face was in profile, her eyes closed tight with pleasure, her mouth wide open as she moaned and panted. I saw movement at the bridal tent, Missy popped her head out for a moment before she ducked back in. I yanked hard on Rose’s braid as I really started to slam into her cunt hard and fast.

“Yes, yes! Fuck my naughty pussy!” Rose was screaming. “Oh, yes! I love your cock, my Lord. Your big, hard cock is making my unworthy cunt feel so good! I’m gonna cum, my Lord!”

Rose’s back arched as she came, her hips slamming back into me, and I enjoyed the silky grip of her cunt milking my cock. I groaned, feeling my balls starting to boil. I thrust harder into her teenage pussy, griping her slim hips as I drove my cock rapidly in and out of her. My balls boiled over with lust and I filled her young cunt full of my cum. I pulled out of Rose and she pulled her skirt back down her ass, a happy smile painted on her face.

The band started playing as I put my cock away. Finally, I thought in relief. Two of Mary’s cousins, a pair of adorable, five-year-old twins, Matti and Drew, walked out. They were the flower-girl and ring-bearer, respectively. Matti looked so cute as she walked forward, throwing more flowers on the aisle with a dignified air spoiled only by her cute smile. Drew tried to walk with a stately grace as he held the pillow with the wedding bands and Matti quickly out-paced her brother. She was just having so much fun that when she reached the end of the aisle and realized that her brother wasn’t next to her, she walked back to him, throwing more flowers while our friends and family laughed at how cute she was.

They were followed by Alice and our sisters. They all looked beautiful in their cream-colored bridesmaid’s dresses. Particularly Shannon and Missy; their red hair made quite a splash against the cream dresses. Alice looked at me and for the first time there wasn’t jealousy in those eyes. I was also relieved that she didn’t pull out a gun when she reached the altar.

The traditional wedding march started up and everyone ‘oohhed’ and ‘aahhed’ when Mary appeared. My heart almost stopped. I had seen her in the dress just a few hours ago as we posed for photos, but this was different. Her emerald eyes found mine through the veil and the smile that covered her face was breathtaking, producing delightful dimples in her cheeks. Clutched in her hands was a bouquet of beautiful flowers, white and pink with a few purple flowers for a splash of brilliant color. Sean, her father, took her arm, and they walked slowly up the aisle. The setting sun lit Mary’s dress with an orange hue and for a moment she looked like an angel aglow with radiant power.

Sean shook my hand, then handed Mary off to me. Alice held Mary’s bouquet as I took my fiancee’s hands. They were soft and gentle and I squeezed them as her flowery perfume filled my nose and left me feeling light-headed. We stared into each other’s eyes as Rose began her marriage ceremony; Mary’s eyes were deep green and full of love and I could happily stare into them forever. Rose gave a sermon on the importance of love and the beauty of two people sharing their lives together. The girl didn’t sound nervous at all, considering she was marrying her Gods.

“Was that Rose I heard moaning?” Mary whispered quietly as Rose preached.

I smiled. “I got bored.”

“That’s my horny stallion.” Mary giggled silently, trying not to let her body shake too much. “Sorry for the holdup. I thought I lost my locket.” She touched the silver, heart-shaped locket nestled in her beautiful cleavage.

“I’m just so happy to marry you,” I answered. She smiled warmly at me and I couldn’t help but smile back at my beautiful bride.

Rose’s sermon went on for about ten more minutes. “The couple have written their own vows,” Rose stated as Quatch passed us the wedding bands. They were simple, golden bands. Inscribed on the inside of each ring was one simple word, “Forever.”

I took Mary’s hand and placed the ring just at the tip of her finger. Mary took a deep breath, tears brimming in her eyes, “Mark, you changed my life the day you walked into my work. You captured my heart and loved me enough to set me free. And I loved you enough to come back. I want to be with you every day of our lives. The good days and the bad. Forever at your side.” My hand trembled as I slid the wedding band all the way onto her finger, up against her engagement ring.

Mary took my wedding band and held my hand, smiling expectantly at me. “That was beautiful, Mare.” She blushed beneath her veil, tears brimming in her beautiful eyes, and I grinned at her. “I was captivated the moment I saw you the day I walked into your work. I never thought I would meet someone who could love me with all her heart the way you have. You are all I will ever need. From now, until the end of time. You are all I need, my love.” Mary was crying and smiling as she slid my wedding band onto my finger.

“By the powers invested in me by my Gods and the State of Washington, I now pronounce you man and wife.” Everyone clapped at Rose’s pronouncement and I lifted my wife’s veil ever so gently. Her lips quivered as we stared at one another and then my arms wrapped around her slim body and I pulled her to me. Our lips met and time seemed to stop. Everything faded away as I kissed my wife and felt her body pressed to me. Her lips tasted sweet, and my nose was filled with the heady scent of her flowery perfume and the faint, coconut smell of her shampoo. Her soft hand stroked my cheek and her dress was silky smooth beneath my hand.

When we broke the kiss, everyone was standing and clapping. We breathlessly turned to face our families, Mary’s arm hooking around mine. We started to walk slowly down the aisle, past the grinning men and the teary-eyed women. They started showering us with rice, the kernels falling about us, getting stuck in our hair and sliding down the front and back of my shirt.

A white Rolls Royce limo pulled up and Leah opened the door. She was wearing a more conservative chauffeur’s outfit than usual. Tears shown in her hazel eyes as she murmured, “I’m so happy for you, my Gods.” Mary stroked her face and bent and kissed her gently on the lips before slipping into the limo. I helped to gather her skirt up and slid in beside her.

“You are so beautiful,” I told my new wife, snuggling up to her and kissing her smiling lips as my hand slid up the side of her dress to gently squeeze her breast through the lacy bodice.

“It’s only a five minute drive to the lodge,” Mary protested between kisses. We were holding our reception at the Paradise Lodge, nearby. As I groped Mary, my other hand was busy lifting up her skirts. “You’ll ruin my dress.” Her protests were growing weaker as my hand found her stocking-covered thigh and I slid up her leg. She was wearing panties with a smooth material. Satin, maybe. I found the warmth between her legs and started rubbing her moistening pussy through her panties’ gusset.

“My horny stallion,” Mary panted, kissing me back. “You’re going to make a mess of my hair, too.”

“I don’t care,” I told her. My fingers found the elastic band of her panties and started to pull them off.

“Umm, I don’t either,” panted Mary as I ran my fingers through her bare pussy. “Make love to me, husband.”

The limo stopped, we were already at the lodge. But, our guests could wait while I made love to my wife. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Leah turn to watch us, her smiling face framed by her bleached-blonde hair. Mary’s hand fumbled at the zipper of my slacks. She reached into the fly, tugging my boxers down and wrapping her hands around my cock and fishing my hardening shaft out. She leaned against the side of the limo, spreading her legs. Her skirts and petticoats bunched up about her waist, almost hiding my wife from me as I settled between her thighs.

“Ohh, I love you,” Mary moaned as my cock found the opening to her pussy and I slid inside her.

She was warm and wet and tight. “I love you, my sweet filly!” I moaned as I started thrusting into her wet hole. I fucked her hard, rocking the limo with every plunge. Mary slammed her hips back at me. We were both too horny to bother with foreplay. Besides, our guests were waiting. The grip of her cunt on my cock was sending waves of pleasure through my cock, ending at my balls.

“Fuck me, fuck me, stud!” Mary gasped loudly. I could see our guests arriving through the tinted window above Mary’s head, and the amused smiles on their faces. They all knew what was going on in the limo.

“My beautiful wife!” I panted. “Your pussy feels so amazing.”

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum, Mark! Umm, pound your filly’s cunt. Give me a good ride!”

The car was quickly filling up with the scent of my Mary, that sweet and spicy aroma of her cunt. I inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent. The slap of flesh and the rustle of fabric echoed through the back of the limo. Mary squealed in pleasure, bucking beneath me. I felt her cunt contracting about my cock as her orgasm rolled through her body.

I slammed three more times into her, balls growing tighter and tighter, and then buried myself inside my wife and flooded her pussy with my cum. We both were breathing hard and I tried to kiss her, but her bunched up skirt made that far too difficult. I pulled out and put my wet cock back into my pants. Mary found her panties and pulled them on quickly to contain the mess inside her.

“That was great, Mare,” I told her. “I love you so much.”

She smiled happily at me and kissed me. “Do I look alright?”

Mary’s hair was a little mused, her skirt a little wrinkled, and her face was flushed and sweaty. “You look so beautiful.”

Leah opened the door and this time we were greeted with catcalls and whistles as we headed into the lodge for the reception. Mary and I stood at the entrance and greeted everyone as they walked in. The children were taken to a small room to be out of the way, and everyone else went into a richly-appointed dining hall. There was a long table for the wedding party, with Mary and myself seated in the middle, and everyone else sat at small, round tables that seated four. We spread out the sluts, sitting each one by a male cousin and told them to be very friendly.

After the dinner, Mary and I did our solo dance. Neither of us danced well, but everyone clapped when we finished. Maybe they were just relieved that our solo was over. Other couples joined us on the dance floor: my mom and her girlfriend Betty, Mary’s parents, Missy and Damien, and my sister and Via. As we were dancing, I saw Lillian slip off with my cousin Ryan. He was fifteen and probably about to lose his virginity. I danced with my mom, and Betty, and Shannon, before I found myself dancing with Alex, one of Mary’s red-headed cousins.

Alex was seventeen, lithe and pretty, with fiery red hair and a face almost entirely covered in freckles. Mary smiled at me as she was twirled about by my cousin, Aaron Jr., as I led Alex off to a side-room we set up for couples to go and be intimate in. Mary didn’t want her wedding to descend into an orgy. The room was partitioned into curtained-off, little rooms with mattresses.

“Oh wow,” a woman exclaimed from behind a curtain. “You do have a cock! How did you do that?”

“Magic,” Sam answered. Sam, our former slut who was now our Vizier, had given herself a dick using a spell she found in the Book.

I opened the curtain curious to know whom she was fucking. Sam was sucking at a woman’s breast as they sat on a mattress. The woman had her hands wrapped around the cock that jutted up from Sam’s groin. I blinked in surprise, the woman was my cousin Laura. And then I realized her husband, Ethan, was sitting in the corner jacking off as he watched his wife and Sam.

Sam’s lips came away from Laura’s breast and I saw a white liquid beading on Laura’s nipple. Breast milk, I realized. She only had Astrid two months ago as I recall. I wondered what breast milk tasted like as Sam bent down and sucked on her other nipple. Must be delicious, because Sam was eager to try more.

I pushed Alex down to her knees and told her to suck my cock. Sam heard and turned her head, licking her lips. “Sir, are you going to watch?”

“Yeah,” I smiled and Sam grinned at me.

Sam pushed Laura onto her back and hiked up the green skirt of my cousin’s dress as Alex licked at the head of my cock. Her tongue felt nice as it fluttered about my sensitive cock’s head. Sam pulled off Laura’s white panties, exposing her brown bush. Sam ran a few fingers through Laura’s cunt and spread open her pink pussy and guided her cock to my cousin’s cunt.

“Fuck me!” Laura begged. “I want to see if a woman’s cock feels different.”

Ethan scooted closer to his wife and offered his cock to her lips. “Thanks, cutie,” Ethan moaned as his wife sucked his cock into her mouth.

From where I was standing, I had a perfect view of Sam sliding her cock into Laura’s cunt. Beneath Sam’s cock I could see her wet pussy. Laura moaned around her husband’s cock as Sam started fucking her with slow, deep thrusts. Laura’s hands started to grope Sam’s olive-skinned ass, slipping down and finding her wet pussy.

“Finger me, slut!” Sam moaned as Laura found her wet pussy. Sam thrust hard into Laura as my cousin shoved her fingers up Sam’s eager cunt.

“Fuck that’s amazing!” I moaned as I watched. I grabbed Alex’s head and shoved her mouth around my cock and started fucking the girl’s face. There was something hot about watching a girl with a cock fuck another girl. This was like that Anime shit that Quatch was into. Never find your friend’s porn collection, I learned the hard way. Especially if he’s into some weird, Japanese fetishes. But seeing this live, I was starting to get why he liked it.

Sam was pounding Laura’s cunt harder and harder. Ethan didn’t last long in his wife’s lips and flooded her mouth with his cum. When his dick popped out, Sam bent down and kissed Laura and the pair snowballed his cum as Sam continued pumping in and out of Laura’s cunt. My balls were boiling over at that, and I filled Alex’s mouth with my spunk.

“Wow,” Alex panted, when I released her. “You cum a lot, Mark.” She glanced at the action and I saw her fidgeting.

“Pretty hot, huh?” I asked her.

“She has a cock?” Alex whispered in awe, licking her lips. “Holy shit, that’s cray.”

“Gonna cum!” Sam moaned, slamming her hips inside Laura. “Oh shit, your pussy feels amazing!” Sam buried herself into Laura’s cunt, breathing hard and then rolled off. My cousin’s pussy gaped open and was messy with Sam’s cum.

“Clean her up,” I ordered Alex.

“How?” Alex asked, looking around for something. A towel, maybe? I should have been more specific.

“With your mouth,” I told her.

Alex flushed and licked her lips, bending down to Laura’s cunt. Sam’s cock shrunk, and went back to being a clit, as she watched Alex hesitantly lick at my cousin’s messy cunt. Sam looked back at Ethan and grabbed his cock and gave it a stroke.

“Want to fuck my snatch?” Sam asked, a smile on her round face.

“Got to get me ready,” Ethan told her as Sam lazily stroked his cock. Sam smiled and sucked his cock into her lips.

I lifted Alex’s red skirt up. She wore a pair of red, satin bikini-cut panties. I pulled them down to her thighs and found her furry, red muff. I grabbed her plump asscheeks and spread them open. She had a cute, rosebud asshole. It look so inviting, I just had to fuck her ass. I shoved my cock inside her cunt to get my dick nice and lubed.

“Holy shit!” Alex gasped in surprise as I pushed into her tight asshole and slid my dick a few inches into her hot ass. “What the hell, you’re fucking my ass!”

“Don’t stop licking!” Laura begged. “I was so close.”

“Keep licking, slut!” I barked at Alex, and slapped her ass.

She yelled and buried her face back into Laura’s cunt. Alex was turning into quite the eager muff diver as I fucked her tight ass nice and slow. Sam stretched out next to Laura, and Ethan mounted her and started fucking away. Laura smiled at her husband and ran a finger down his arm. Ethan smiled at her, then bent over and sucked at her milky nipple.

I gripped Alex’s hips, and fucked her ass faster and faster. Her ass was tight and hot and felt like rough velvet. Her small hips started to move as she got used to my cock up her ass and it wasn’t long before I heard her moan in pleasure into Laura’s cunt. Laura was gripping Alex’s red hair and cursing as her orgasm neared.

“Eat me!” she moaned. “Oh God, I’m so close to cumming! Just lick at my clit a little bit more! Yes, yes! Just like that!” Milk was running out of her nipples as she bucked on Alex’s face, then fell back, a contented smile on her lips. “Umm, that was nice.”

I kept fucking Alex’s ass and I stared hungrily at her tits. “Let me taste your milk, Laura.”

“Sure, Mark,” she said, standing up and bending over, dangling her full breasts in my face. Her nipples were dark red and I latched on sucking. The milk was sweet, far sweeter than a cow’s milk, and had a bit of a cantaloupe flavor. I sucked hungrily, enjoying the taste of her milk.

“That’s my randy stallion,” Mary’s voice purred from behind.

I let go of my cousin’s tits to see Mary leading in one of her high school friends, a blonde girl with curvy hips and breasts that were spilling out of the top of her black dress. Her dress was half-unlaced and Mary’s hand was down the front. Mary pulled her hand out and walked over to Laura, bending down to taste her breast milk.

“Umm, that’s good,” Mary purred. Then she grabbed Laura’s hand and her high school friend’s hand and led them off to another curtained partition.

“Hey, I wasn’t done,” I protested.

“When you’re finished with Alex’s ass, come join us,” Mary laughed.

I pounded Alex’s ass, cumming as quick as I could. I had to get another taste of that breast milk. I left Alex lying next to Sam and Ethan as they fucked, my cum dribbling out of her tight ass. I found Mary’s friend sitting on my wife’s face and Laura eating out my wife’s pussy. I knelt behind my cousin, lifted her skirt. Alex did a good job cleaning my cousin’s cunt I noticed as I lined up my cock and shoved it into her pussy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My feet were killing me. We had just spent the last hour dancing. The hour before that was spent fucking. I still had the flavor of Laura’s breast milk on my lips. My new husband sat next to me. Thanks to his new powers from my mom, he wasn’t even out of breath. He had far too much energy these days. He put his arm around me and I snuggled up against him and kissed his cheek.

After Mark came in his cousin Laura’s cunt, Mark and I nursed at her tits as my friend, Shelly, ate Mark’s cum out of her pussy. When Laura came, her milk seemed to flow a little faster as we sucked at her. I loved the taste of breast milk. I heard a woman could produce milk as long as she had someone to nurse. Korina had beautiful breasts and I couldn’t wait until she had Mark’s kid and her milk was flowing. She was going to be our little milk slut.

The band was playing a slow song and despite how sore my feet felt, I itched for one more dance with my husband. Mark smiled when I told him, and he led me out to the dance floor. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and he held my waist and we swayed together. I stared into his blue eyes and enjoyed the boyish grin on his lips.

Alison and Desiree danced beside us, the two newlyweds lost in each other’s eyes. Other couples joined us: my mom and dad, Laura and Ethan, Shannon and her fiancee, and Cynthia and Vivian. Via dragged Antsy out onto the dance floor and I smiled in amusement. Antsy and Mark were a lot alike, they both fell in love with their slaves and set them free. My friend, Ursula, and her boyfriend swayed past us, and Quatch and his sister-slave, Kim, were practically grinding on each other. Lillian danced with my cousin Alex for a minute, and then the two were slipping into the side room to fuck. Lillian spent most of the night in there. I think she was on a mission to fuck every cousin Mark and I had.

The song ended and Mark scooped me up in his strong arms. “Thank you,” I whispered, relieved to be off my tired feet.

He kissed my forehead. “Any time, Mare,” he grinned and carried me out to the waiting limo as our friends and family wished us well on our honeymoon. We were off to spend two weeks seeing the sites of Europe, starting with Paris.

This time we just cuddled as Leah drove us off the slope of Mount Rainier back towards South Hill. I dozed in my husband’s arms and when Mark shook me, we were at Thun Field. Our Gulfstream was fueled and ready for take-off. The eight bodyguards there accompanying us, led by 51, waited at attention in their slutty uniforms. Next to them was our flight crew; Joslyn and Lynda in their slutty stewardess outfits. Our actual stewardesses, Monique and Lize, were stunningly beautiful in their sexy outfits: skank-skirts that didn’t even cover all of their asses, and white corsets that left their magnificent breasts bared. We hugged and kissed our flight crew then boarded our plane.

Monique helped me with my skirt as I climbed into the airplane. I hoped my wedding dress wasn’t too ruined. I had done a bit more fucking in it then I planned on. On board, Mark helped me slip out of my wedding dress, leaving me standing in my wedding lingerie. A white, satin bra that molded perfectly about my breasts, my satin panties that clung to my ass like a second skin, and my garter belt holding up my white stockings.

“You are so beautiful,” Mark whispered in awe as his eyes feasted on me. I posed for him like a forties pin-up gal. Mark kissed me and scooped me up in his arms and sat down on the chair.

I adjusted myself on his lap, my legs draped over the arm of the chair and I stared into his blue eyes. “I love you, Mark Glassner.”

He stroked my cheek, sending a delicious thrill through my body. “I love you, Mary Glassner.”

Mary Glassner. I smiled, liking the sound of that. The plane taxied down the runway, off to fly us to Europe for our two week honeymoon. Happiness churned in my heart as I kissed my husband as the plane accelerated down the runway and leaped from the ground. When we were at cruising altitude, Mark carried me in his arms to our cabin at the rear of the plane, and the inviting bed that awaited us.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

University of Wisconsin-Madison, July 21st, 2013

“I’ll be there by ten,” Brandon had told me on the phone and that was nearly three hours ago.

This waiting was killing me. Brandon had been breathing down my neck to finish translating his book, and now that it was done, he was late. Doubt was starting to eat away at my mind. This entire situation was off. The only thing that kept me from going home was the thought of the two hundred thousand Brandon owed me.

Why he would pay three hundred thousand for a translation of the Magicks of the Witch of Endor was beyond me. It was like the numerous grimoires I had seen over the years, the Keys of Solomon, for instance, or the Sefer Raziel HaMalakh, that purported to let you do magic and command angels and demons. There was definitely more to the story than Brandon told me.

So I decided to take steps to protect myself.

I had uploaded my translation to the school’s server. The school’s system had a useful function, a teacher could upload an assignment and have it published at a later date. So, I set the computer to publish the translation on Monday at noon. If everything went smoothly tonight, I would take it down. But, if something went wrong, the translation and a message telling everyone that Brandon Fitzsimmons was responsible for anything that might have happened to me would get published.

I should just walk away. Every bone in my body was telling me to do that. That’s why I set up the insurance with the school server to begin with. Brandon didn’t want anyone else to know about the translation. But I just couldn’t bring myself to walk away from all that money. The first check had cleared. One hundred thousand dollars was more than I made in a year and I wanted that other two hundred thousand he promised. I was nearing my retirement and my divorce last year had eaten up my nest egg.

Footsteps approached and I perked up. The door to my small office opened and there was Brandon. He looked more haggard than a month ago, greed and excitement gleaming in his eyes. I swallowed, fear bubbling in my stomach. This was a mistake, I should run, I should shout, or attack him. But, I wanted that money. I needed that money.

So instead, I greeted Brandon.

“You have it, Professor Scrivener!” he demanded.

I pulled out a thumb drive, holding it out. “Yes, I…” Brandon just yanked it out of my hand.

“This is the only copy?”

I lied, “Yeah. I erased my hard drive like you asked. Where’s my money?”

A smile appeared on Brandon’s lips and he reached into his coat just like last time. Only this time, he pulled out a small, black gun. “Wait!” I shouted. I needed to tell him about my insurance. “I made…” My words were cut off by a punch to my chest. I clutched at my breast, blood welling between my fingers, and I stumbled back. No, no, no! This can’t be happening! You greedy fool! I struggled to talk, to tell Brandon about my insurance, but it was too hard to breath, let alone speak.

You stupid, greedy idiot, I berated myself as I sank to the floor. Brandon grabbed my computer case and slammed it hard onto the floor, spilling broken components everywhere. He fished out the hard drive and pocketed that, then slammed my laptop on the floor. Everything was growing darker and darker as Brandon dug through the wreckage of my laptop to find its hard drive and…

I was falling, falling, falling.

Into darkness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Babylon’s House, July 21st, 2013

“Chantelle,” I said, softly, shaking my pregnant wife. She was sleeping in one of the bedrooms in Babylon’s house. We had been staying with Babylon ever since her coven started worshiping Lilith. For the last month we had been caring for the barely conscious Karen as Lilith’s vessel grew swiftly in her belly.

“What, Lana?” she asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Her belly was swollen with Lilith’s child. Both of us were pregnant with our Goddess’s children. They were growing fast, only a month had passed since Lilith blessed us with her seed. We would probably give birth in just a few days, a week at most.

“Karen’s gone into labor,” I told her and I could feel the excited smile growing on my lips. “Our Goddess is about to be born!”

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 34.

The Devil’s Pact Side-Story: Rachel’s Honeymoon Part 4-Sunday

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Side-Story: Rachel’s Honeymoon

Part 4: Sunday

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2013, 2014


Story Codes: Female/Female, Male/Females, Mind Control, Exhibitionism, Bukkake, Wife, Romance, Creampie

For a list of all the Devil’s Pact Chapters and other stories click here

Comments are very welcome. I would like all criticism, positive and negative, so long as its
constructive, and feedback is very appreciated.



Note: This takes during Chapter 27 while Mark and Mary are in New York City. For Part 3 of Rachel’s Honeymoon.



I was kissing Leah as a group of men cheered us on. We were in some loft with some of the guys from the club. We had partied with them all night, and every single one of my holes was stuffed with cum, the salty flavor of cum thick on my tongue. I was on top of Leah, her legs wrapped around my waist as our clits rubbed together. It was almost like fucking her, the way I ground my pussy into her. Leah’s hands were roaming up and down my back, tracing my spine, then she slid down to my ass, kneading my cheeks, pulling me harder into her clit. Her tongue was in my mouth, exploring me, her tongue salty with cum.

There was something so intimate about lying atop her, grinding my pussy into her. Our nipples touched; our breasts were pressed into each other. I felt the same feeling with Jacob, my husband, as he lay atop me thrusting his cock inside me. Leah was that same mix of intoxication and intimacy. It didn’t matter that all these guys were watching us, cheering us on. I wasn’t doing this for them, I was doing it for Leah.

“Oh, fuck!” a guy groaned as ropey cum splashed onto my back.

“You guys are some fucking nasty cunts!” another guy moaned.

Ropey cum splashed into my hair and on to my cheek, rolling wetly down to my lips. Together we tasted the salty cum as we kissed. I ground my hips, pushing my pussy harder into Leah. I wanted to feel her cum on my pussy. And I wanted her to feel my pussy cum on her’s. Leah’s hand was on my ass again, pulling me into her.

“Christ almighty!” another guy moaned, and hot cum splashed between my legs, landing on my pussy and dripping down to Leah’s cunt.

There were a dozen guys watching us, jerking off to us. We were the only ladies present. The red-head stayed at the club, still looking for her boyfriend. I hoped she found him, although how she was going to explain the cum leaking out of her ass and cunt I had no idea. She didn’t have a husband that understood that his new wife just needed to have some fun on her honeymoon. To cut loose and experience life for the first time before she went back to be his plan, drab brunette.

More cum splashed on my ass, my back, on my side, rolling down to my boobs. Some landed in my hair, on my face, some even landed on my feet. It seemed like it was raining cum on the both of us as we writhed against each other. Every sweet kiss of our clits was bringing me closer and closer to cumming. I could feel that same desire building in Leah. Her hips were bucking faster beneath me, more urgent, as she was nearing her climax.

We came together, bucking in each other’s embrace, moaning our passion into each other’s lips. I broke the kiss, resting my forehead on hers, staring into her hazel eyes and I wallowed in the fun I was having. My dyed-blonde hair fell about our faces, screening us from the men’s gaze, giving us a bit of privacy.

I just knew Jacob would love Leah as much as I had come to. At least, I hoped he would.

But would Leah want to give up being a blonde and go back to being a drab brunette with me? Would she be happy only having one man and one woman? If I had not met Mary, had not been swept up in the magic of her presence, I would never have stopped being that drab brunette, would never have become the fun blonde that would let a room-full of men jerk off on her while she tribbed another woman. I knew how much fun it could be and I was afraid that my husband and I wouldn’t be enough for my new lover.

The men’s catcalls ruined the moment, and I rolled off Leah. “Where’s my dress?” I asked. We had to get going. Mary told us to be back by morning, and the sun was already lightening the horizon.

A man tossed me my dress and I pulled it on over the cum. “Dirty slut, not even going to get cleaned up?” the man asked.

I shrugged. “I’m not some drab brunette,” was my answer.

Leah and I made out the entire cab ride back to the Waldorf-Astoria. The cabbie had to see that we were positively dripping in cum, but he didn’t say a word. The doorman at the Waldorf-Astoria gave us strange looks as we stumbled in and headed for the elevator. We had it all to ourselves this early, and made out the entire ride up, stumbling into the hotel room.

“Looks like you two had some fun,” the bodyguard on duty muttered. She was a black-haired beauty with a pair of large tits straining at the half-open blouse of her uniform.

“We did,” I giggled. “Blonde’s have all the fun.”

“Explains why I’m on guard duty,” the bodyguard said with an exaggerated sigh.

We took a quick shower and fell asleep in each other’s arms. When we awoke, it was to one of the bodyguards shaking us. “Master and Mistress want you two dressed,” the Korean bodyguard snapped, and pinched my naked ass. “Now, sluts!”

Mark and Mary played the tourist again, and every time they found some new landmark or museum, Leah and I made out in the back of the limo. Every time Mark and Mary returned brought us closer and closer to when we would part. I was torn inside. I loved Jacob, and I was quickly realizing that I loved Leah. Fantasies of running off with Leah floated through my head, of late night’s partying in clubs, of having fun. But there was no Jacob. A fantasy of being married to Jacob passed through my mind, of sleeping in on the Sabbath, cuddling in bed. Of the small house we were in the process of buying; spending Sundays painting and fixing all the little things that needed to be done. But there was no Leah. I felt like I was being ripped between my two loves.

The drive to the airport seemed to take forever. Mary pulled Leah aside and the two had a whispered conversation as Mark greeted a pair of sluttily dressed stewardesses. And I mean slutty, their tits were exposed in white bustiers. They both had a nice set of tits I realized, as my eyes drank in their beauty, their nipples hard and one had golden rings pierced through her nipples, the blonde, of course. Mark had them both in his arms, kissing one then the other.

Mary stepped in front of me, caressed my face and whispered, “Love them both.” Then her lips were on mine, all thoughts erased as the most beautiful woman in the world kissed me. And then she released me, heading back to her fiancee and they boarded their private jet. And I was no longer the fun-loving blonde, but the plain, drab brunette. It was time to go back to Jacob.

Love them both, Mary’s words echoed in my head on the drive back to the limo rental company. Leah had to return the limo and that’s when they would part. I wanted to love them both. But they were too different. I couldn’t see Leah settling down in a plain house in a boring suburb and I couldn’t see Jacob going to a wild club in an exciting city.

Leah opened the door for me for the last time, a sad smile on her angelic face. I hugged her and stroked her face, then kissed her lush lips one last time. I drank in the sight of her face; the memory would have to last me a lifetime. Love them both. But how? Maybe I was the key. They both loved me, could I be the bridge between the two?

“What did Mary say to you?” I asked her. That’s not what you were supposed to say. Tell her how you feel. But fear stayed my tongue. I could live the rest of my life with the memory of our brief fling. But only if I believed that Leah actually loved me. If she didn’t…I did not want to think about that.

Leah swallowed. “She asked me if I…” Leah breathed deeply. “If I loved you.”

“Do you?” I blurted out before my brain could stop me.

“Yes,” she whispered, then she hugged me tightly. “Don’t go back to your husband. Please, stay with me. Think of all the fun we can have together. I love you, Rachel.”

My heart melted. “I love you, too, Leah,” I whispered back and she squeezed me tighter. “But, I love Jacob. I met him first.” I could feel tears brimming in my eyes.

“You have to choose then,” Leah said, pulling away. “It…it’s alright. I knew this was a dream that I had to wake up from.”

“Why can’t I have both of you?” I asked. “Mary told me to love both of you.”

“I don’t even know Jacob,” she protested.

“You know me,” I told her. “You trust me, right?”

Leah nodded.

“Then trust me about Jacob. He’s a little boring. But then, so was I. We can have fun with him, be as wild and slutty as we want to, just the three of us. But we can have more. We can have roots. Having fun is great, but it doesn’t last. Eventually the party ends, Leah, but with Jacob we can grow something that lasts beyond the fun. Jacob and I already have started growing our life together and I want you to grow with us.”

Leah chewed her lip. “As, what? Your mistress?”

“As my wife,” I told her, stroking her cheek. “And Jacob’s wife.”

A shiver ran through Leah’s body, her hazel eyes became distant as she pursed her lips in thought. “I must be crazy,” she muttered. “Okay, I’m willing to try. For you, Rachel. I don’t want to lose you.”

We were kissing, tears of joy running down both our faces and mingling salty between our lips. Now, I just had to convince Jacob. But Leah was hot and he was a man, and lust could serve until he got to know just how special she was. We broke the kiss and hailed a cab. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other, or our lips, as we rode back to the hotel. The poor cabbie almost got in a wreck; he kept watching us in his rearview mirror.

We reached the honeymoon suite of the Waldorf-Astoria. Jacob should be in there, waiting for me. He was a great guy, to let me have all this fun on our honeymoon. And it was my turn to return the favor. Jacob never said it, but I knew he thought about having two women. What guy didn’t? So, I confidently knocked on the door.

Leah trembled beside me. The once confident, outgoing girl had been replaced by this shy, sweet thing. She was acting like a drab brunette. Like me, she was a bottled-blonde, not a natural. “What if he doesn’t like me?” Leah asked in a panic. “What if he doesn’t want to share you?”

“He’ll love you,” I told her, squeezing her hand.

The door opened, and there was my husband, skinny and tall, his brown hair mused and his glasses askew. A happy smile appeared on his lips. “Rachel, you’re back!”

I threw my arms around my husband and kissed him soundly on the lips. His lips were firm, cheeks rough with his stubble and I ran my fingers through it, delighting in the feel of his manliness. He smelled of sweat and that musk that was distinctly my Jacob’s. His strong arms wrapped around me as I pressed my soft body against his.

“I missed you, Rach,” he whispered, stroking my hair. “And you’re blonde, now?”

“Blonde’s have all the fun,” I giggled.

“Is that the girl you were with yesterday?” he cautiously asked.

Yesterday morning, Jacob found Leah and I making out in the elevator. “Jacob, this is Leah.” I took a deep breath. “We fell in love.”

A crestfallen, hurt expression fell across Jacob’s face. “I see,” he said, stiffly. “I mean, what did I expect. We spent our honeymoon apart.”

I sighed. “Jacob. I love you, too. And I did have a lot of fun, and now I’m ready to have some fun with you.”

“Both of you?” he asked. Was that a hint of hope in his voice?

“Yes,” I told him. “I hope you find Leah as amazing as I do. Because, I want the three of us to be together.”

Jacob blinked. “I…I’m not sure I understand.”

“Well, Jacob, I want to be your wife and Leah’s wife,” I said. “And I want Leah to be your wife, as well.”

“Two wives, huh,” Jacob said. “I don’t know, Rach. That’s a little wild. And illegal.”

“Do you love me, Jacob?” I asked.

“Of course, Rach.” He stroked my cheek. “Always.”

“Then, for me, try and love Leah,” I told him. “Leah has promised to try and love you.”

He sighed. “Alright, Rach, for you.”

“Oh, don’t sound so pouty,” I said, getting annoyed. “You get what every guy dreams of, two blondes sharing your bed.”

Jacob laughed, relaxing, and glanced at Leah. Their eyes met and they both froze. Color flushed on Leah’s face and Jacob gave a half-smile. I could almost feel the electricity pass between them. My heart gave a happy beat; this was going to work. I squealed in joy as Leah boldly walked up to Jacob, her assertiveness restored, and pulled my husband down and gave him a passionate kiss on the lips. Jacob started kissing her back, pulling her tight against him.

“He’s cute,” Leah stated when she broke the kiss. Jacob had a dazed, breathless expression on his face. “I can see why you like him, Rachel.”

My heart fluttered in happiness, again, as I watched Jacob bend his head down and kiss her on the lips. “You’re pretty cute, yourself, Leah,” Jacob stated when he broke the kiss, and it was Leah’s turn to be breathless.

I threw my arms around them both. “The bed awaits,” I told them. “Let’s celebrate our honeymoon.”

The bed was covered in red, satin sheets and we all fell onto it, tearing each other’s clothes off. Jacob discovered my shaved pussy, stroking it with his hand. “Wow, that’s hot.”

“I did it for you,” I admitted. “It was supposed to be a surprise on our wedding night.”

“Well, I am surprised,” Jacob said, and he bent down and started licking at my pussy. I giggled as his whiskers scratched at my thighs, adding a rough, pleasant feeling only a man could give, different from the gentle touch of a woman, but no less pleasant. Leah started kissing me on the lips, her hands playing with my breasts. I was so happy, both my loves were making me feel so amazing.

Jacob kissed up my body, nipping at my breasts. I was so wet and ready for him. Leah grasped his cock with her hand, guiding Jacob to my wet cunt. I moaned, kissing Jacob on the lips as he slid in me, filling me up so deliciously. After having all those cocks in me last night, I could say Jacob was above average. I moaned as he started pistoning in and out of me. No, he was well above average.

Leah kissed our cheeks, a smile on her face as she watched Jacob make love to me. My hands roamed Jacob’s lean back, brushing Leah’s exploring hand. Together, we groped Jacob’s ass, pulling him tighter into me. Jacob broke our kiss, nuzzling at my neck as he pumped into me. Lean leaned in and we kissed. I felt so much joy as my husband and wife made love to me.

Leah took my hand and moved it down to her steaming cunt, rubbing my fingers across her wet, silky lips. I shoved two fingers up inside her and found her clit. I finger-banged her hard and fast, enjoying her wetness as she sighed softly into my lips as her pleasure mounted. My own orgasm was growing closer and I started moving my hips to Jacob’s pace.

Jacob was fucking me faster and harder now, his cock eager to cum. The poor guy spent the entire weekend without any pussy. Well, that would change. Between Leah and myself, Jacob would get all the pussy he could ever want.

“I love you both!” I gasped as my orgasm exploded inside me, milking Jacob’s cock, trying to draw out his cum.

I could feel Leah’s pussy clenching on my fingers. “Ohh, I love you too, Rachel!” she moaned as her orgasm spilled through her body.

Jacob’s cock slammed into me, burying all the way inside me as his back arched and his ass clenched beneath my hand. I could feel him spilling inside me. “Oh, my sweet Rach!” he gasped.

Jacob rolled off me and both my loves snuggled up against me, two pairs of hands playing with my breasts. “I want to see you and Leah fuck,” I told Jacob, kissing him on the lips.

He smiled. “Sure, just let me rest. I need to recharge.”

I glanced at Leah and she smiled. “Oh, I know just how to recharge a cock.”

Jacob moaned as we both sucked his cock, tasting my pussy cream. We flicked our tongues all about his cock, licking clean all of my delicious juices. Sometimes our tongues or lips would brush, and we would kiss around his cock. “Oh man, that is so hot!” Jacob moaned and we both giggled at our husband.

Our tongues quickly got Jacob hard and ready. What man could stay soft with two women lapping at his cock? I leaned against the headboard, spreading my messy legs. Leah licked her lips and dove into the messy creampie Jacob and I made for her, presenting her cute ass to Jacob. My husband looked at me and I smiled and nodded encouragingly. He started to move into position, then froze as he watched Leah eat me out, a grin broadening his face.

“Wow, that’s hot!” Jacob exclaimed. “Seeing it live is so much better than porn.”

“Ohh, you like the girl-girl porn?” Leah asked, looking back at Jacob, her lips shiny with my juices.

“Every guy likes watching two chicks get it on,” Jacob answered.

“Well, you’re in luck,” Leah purred, “because I love getting it on with another chick!”

“Umm, me too, honey,” I cooed. “Now, what are you waiting for, honey? Leah’s pussy is wet and ready for you.”

“Sorry, I got distracted.”

“I’ll forgive you if you stick that big cock up my cunt, honey,” Leah moaned.

Leah purred and wiggled her cute butt at Jacob as her tongue started swirling around my clit. Jacob got the message, kneeling behind Leah, his cock hard and leaking pre-cum. I could feel Leah moan into my pussy as Jacob sank into his second wife’s cunt. He drew back, gripping her hips, and slammed in a second time.

“Is everyday going to be like this?” Jacob asked as he made love to Leah, our wife.

“Yes,” Leah answered as she slipped two fingers up inside my pussy.

“Just the three of us,” I smiled, gazing at my two loves. My husband and my wife. I was the luckiest gal in the world.

The End

The Devil’s Pact Side-Story: Rachel’s Honeymoon Part 3-Saturday Evening

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Side-Story: Rachel’s Honeymoon

Part 3: Saturday Evening

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2013


Story Codes: Male/Female, Males/Female, Female/Female, Mind Control, Exhibitionism, Wife, Orgy, Aanl, Oral, Interracial, Ass to Pussy

For a list of all the Devil’s Pact Chapters and other stories click here

Comments are very welcome. I would like all criticism, positive and negative, so long as its
constructive, and feedback is very appreciated.



Note: This takes during Chapter 27 while Mark and Mary are in New York City. For Part 2 of Rachel’s Honeymoon.



“You and Leah sure seem close,” Mary told me after a delicious dinner at Keen’s Steakhouse Saturday evening. Mark and Leah had slipped off to fuck in the bathroom and I was missing Leah’s beautiful, angelic face, her blonde hair, and her full lips that I had come to love to kiss.

I flushed. Ever since this morning, I had felt like I was falling in love with Leah. At every moment we could, Leah and I would kiss or hold hands. We were like a pair of teenagers. And if we could get away with it, we’d fuck. And I think Leah was falling in love with me. I still loved my Jacob and almost felt guilty about the poor guy sitting in our honeymoon suite all alone while I was out having all this fun. But I was going to make it up to Jacob Sunday night. With Leah.

“I think we’re falling in love,” I confided to Mary. She was so beautiful and desirable. I just wanted to kiss her freckled face, to rub my cheek against her perky tits, and taste her delicious pussy. Mary was intoxicating to be around. Away from her, you didn’t feel the same intense desire for her, but up close it was almost overwhelming.

“And what about your husband?” Mary asked.

“I still love him,” I answered. “Hopefully, he’ll love Leah just as much as he loves me.”

“Is that what you want, Rachel?” Mary asked me.

It was. I may be a blonde slut for the weekend, fulfilling my deepest fantasies, but that would end when I returned to my husband. But, I wanted Leah, too. In my mind, the three of us were together, all loving each other, living happily ever after. I know, it was some perverted, naive, schoolgirl’s fantasy, but I wanted both of my loves.

“Yes, Mary,” I answered and Mary smiled. “And…um…I was wondering if Leah and I could go to a club tonight.”

Mary’s smile broadened. “Sure. I’ll find some hot piece of ass to keep Mark entertained and you two slip off and have some fun.”

“Oh, thank you,” I cooed, hugging her.

“You can thank me by slipping under the table and eating my horny cunt,” Mary purred, her hand on my head pushing me beneath the table.

Mark and Mary were just the sort of people who were so confident that everyone just did what they wanted, including me I realized, as I happily slid down onto my knees. I spread Mary’s thighs and found her shaved cunt wet and waiting for me. She tasted sweet and spicy and I could feel her squirm as she enjoyed my tongue lapping through her moist groove.

“Your dessert, madam,” the waiter said. Mary had ordered their dark chocolate mousse.

“Umm,” Mary purred, she must have just eaten a bite. “It’s positively orgasmic,” she moaned as my sucking mouth found her clit.

“Well, enjoy your dessert, madam,” the waiter said politely and left.

I almost laughed. No dessert could taste half as good as a woman’s cunt and I enjoyed the sweet dessert of Mary’s pussy, lapping up all her juices and enjoying her moans and pants as she came on my sucking mouth.

Mary, true to her word, found a pair of teenage sisters, and Mark and Mary retired to their room with the two girls while Leah and I slipped out of the hotel. We were wearing new party dresses that Mary bought us after dinner. It’s where she found the two teenage sisters. Mary knew her fiancee, and he leapt at the chance to fuck a pair of sisters.

“Just be back before morning,” Mary warned before closing the door to the penthouse suite’s master bedroom. We could just catch a glimpse of Mark kissing one of the sisters as the other one played with her pussy and watched.

We caught a cab and Leah gave an address in the Bronx. “The Ware,” Leah answered when I asked where we were going. “It used to be called the Warehouse, but that got shortened. It’s the hot place, right now.”

The Ware turned out to be a dilapidated warehouse, made of crumbling brick. A long line of people, mostly men, waited down the side of building. “We have to wait?”

“Not if you’re hot,” Leah smiled and walked up to the bouncer, a big black guy, and smiled. He eyed us up and lifted the rope, to the dismay of the guys and a few gals in line.

There was a short tunnel, the pulse of dubstep growing louder and louder. And then we were through a pair of doors and were assaulted by the music. The entire factory floor was packed with people. Blacklights flooded the club; everything glowed bright blue or green or red. People were dancing, wearing glowstick bracelets that gave them an ethereal beauty in the dark club. Leah pulled me out onto the dance floor.

I let the music flow through me, moving my body to the rhythm, pressing up against Leah. She turned around, her ass rubbing into my groin as we danced. I felt so alive. Nothing mattered except the beat of the music and the dance. Someone was behind me, rubbing up against my ass. A man, I realized with a naughty thrill, feeling his hard bulge rub against my ass. A happy pride surged through me, the man was hard for my body.

I ground my ass back into him, leaning my back against his broad chest, feeling his scratchy whiskers on my delicate neck. This was so much fun. Leah was right, blondes have all the fun. I couldn’t imagine a guy rubbing up against the drab brunette I used to be. Nor would that drab brunette turn around and start grinding her pussy on a strange guy’s leg, feeling her clit rubbing against the rough fabric of his jeans. That drab brunette would have worn her panties, too, I thought with a giggle.

His lips were rough as he kissed me, his stubble rasping on my chin. He smelled of sweat and leather; manly smells, that just made my cunt wetter. His hands grew bold, exploring all the charms my body had to offer. That drab brunette wouldn’t let a strange man feel her breast through her dress, wouldn’t let the man slip his hand down her bodice and find her hard nipple and play with it in the middle of a club’s dance floor. That drab brunette definitely wouldn’t unzip the man’s fly, draw out his cock, and let that strange man slide his dick into her married cunt, on her honeymoon no less. And a drab brunette wouldn’t fuck the man, writhing her hips and enjoying the group of men and women that gathered to watch her uninhibited behavior.

But a vivacious blonde would. Because blondes have all the fun.

The man’s cock felt so delicious inside me, ramming in and out of my pussy. His hands were on my ass, squeezing my cheeks as I wiggled my hips. I wrapped my legs around the man’s waist, and he was thrusting hard into me. I was kissing and biting at his neck as the pleasure of his cock rubbing inside me became more and more intense. Then I was howling as my naughty, blonde cunt had a lot of fun. My orgasm was so intense, stars danced in my eyes.

The man kept fucking me, pounding my little married cunt so hard. I ground my clit into his groin every time he buried his cock into me, and I was so close to cumming a second time. His cock was firm pleasure, every movement just adding to my second orgasm as it built and built and then I was howling again and he moaned in my ear so loud I could hear it over the music as his cum shot up inside my blonde cunt.

My lover pulled out and I was dancing back into the crowd, his cum running down my leg. I started dancing by myself, wondering who my next partner would be and how much fun I would have with him. Or her. A blonde just had fun, they didn’t care about silly things like what sex their partners were.

My next partner was a red-headed, busty gal and I ground my sopping cunt on the woman’s thigh while we kissed. Around us, a group of guys cheered us on and snapped pictures on their phones. And then I felt especially naughty and thought of something the drab brunette would never do.

I dropped to my knees as the men whooped and hollered. The red-head didn’t seem to mind as I pulled her purple panties off and then found her furry cunt. It felt different, eating a pussy covered in downy pubes, but it was just as fun. The woman had a delicious, sweet musk, her juices thicker than Leah or Mary’s had been. I just devoured her cunt, lapping at her delicious fur pie. My hands gripped the red-head’s ass, squeezing her firm cheeks as she ground her cunt on my face.

“You’re one nasty slut!” a guy cheered. I was. A nasty, blonde slut, I thought happily.

“Eat that bitch’s snatch!”

“Fuck, I am so posting this vid on porntube!” Ohh, I was going to be on the internet! The idea that men all across the world would jerk off to me was so hot; I made sure to dig my tongue deep into the red-head’s furry cunt.

The red-head grabbed my blonde hair and shoved her cunt into my mouth, shuddering on my lips and flooded my lips with fresh juices. She stumbled back and everyone clapped and I stood up, my lips shining with cum, and posed for pictures.

The guys started getting handsy, pulling at my dress, fondling me, and trying to get my nips out. I didn’t fight, it was more fun that way. Soon both my tits were hanging out and the red-head was sucking at my breast while the guys snapped their photos. Then my skirt was pulled up and I bent over, letting them get shots of my shaved twat messy with cum.

“You are so fucking hot,” one of the guys said. “We got a private booth; why don’t you come join us.”

“Sure,” I giggled.

“Oh, I got to find my boyfriend,” the red-head protested half-heartily as we were swept away by the guys over to a roped-off area and pulled into a more intimate cubical that faced the club. Padded couches formed a half-circle around a small table designed to rest drinks on.

I was pulled into the lap of one of the guys, his mouth on mine, kissing me hungrily. Another guy sat next to him and he grabbed my hand and placed it on his crotch and I could feel his hard cock. I rubbed his bulge and then I felt him unzip his pants and he pulled his cock out. I gripped it in my hand, stroking it, feeling the warm flesh, soft and hard, throb in my hands as the guy moaned.

“Oh, you are one nasty slut,” he moaned.

I heard gasping moans and the slap of flesh and it sounded like the red-head was getting fucked. I broke the kiss to look over my shoulder to see her kneeling on the couch, a black guy behind her pounding away at her cunt. Her dress had been pulled down and her large tits hung out, swinging back and forth as the black guy slammed into her.

“Suck my cock, blondie,” the guy I was giving a handjob to said. He grabbed my blonde tresses and pulled me down to his cock.

It was a nice-sized cock, not as big as my husband’s, but nice. I sucked it into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the head, then started bobbing my head. The guy I was half-sitting on slid out from underneath me and I was kneeling on the couch, my ass sticking out. I felt my skirt being hiked up and my messy cunt exposed.

“This slut’s already got a cunt full of cum,” the man I had been kissing complained. “Fuck, I didn’t want sloppy seconds.”

“Stop bitchin’,” the guy I was sucking barked. “Umm, this slut’s got a talented little mouth. But I’d love to fuck her cunt if you don’t want to.”

“Fuck that,” the guy behind me snapped. And then I felt his cock poking at my cunt. I moaned around the dick in my mouth as his hard shaft slammed into my pussy. “Fuck, she’s wet, and tight as a schoolgirl!”

“Like you ever fucked a schoolgirl,” his buddy ribbed.

I sucked on the cock in my mouth and slammed my hips back against the cock in my cunt. I was having so much fun pleasuring two cocks at once. I had missed out on so much living as that drab brunette, but I was going to make up for it tonight. After all, once I returned to Jacob I would be that drab brunette again. But that was okay, I loved Jacob and would be happy being his drab brunette as long as I could have Leah, too.

The cock in my mouth was squirting salty, delicious cum. “That’s it, drink all my spunk, bitch.”

I drank every drop, then released his cock to lick the little bit of cum that escaped my lips. The guy moved away and another guy with a bigger cock took his place and I was gobbling that cock down. The cock in my cunt dumped a huge load of cum inside me and pulled out, and another cock took its place, slamming hard into me. A few strokes with this new cock and I moaned and bucked, cumming hard.

The cock in my cunt and the one in my mouth finished at the same time and for a moment I was cock free. The red-head was on her back, a guy on top of her, fucking her cunt, and a blonde woman sat on the red-head’s face, enjoying the tongue lashing the red-head was giving her.

“Leah,” I said, happily. “I lost you in the crowd.”

Leah smiled. “I saw how much fun you were having, so I came to join in.”

“Because blondes have all the fun?” I asked, knowing the answer.

The black guy caught my arm and pulled me over to him. “Ever been fucked in the ass, blondie?”

“No,” I said. Looks like another fun thing for me to experience.

The black guy grinned and pushed me onto my back, hooking my legs up over his shoulders. His black cock rubbed against my white ass, searching for my tight asshole. “Don’t worry, cunt, your girlfriend’s pussy lubed me up real good,” he growled as his cock’s head found my sphincter.

I groaned as he pushed against me, gritting my teeth, and then the head of his cock was inside me and I gasped. “Oh, fuck, you’re too big,” I protested in pain.

“Relax, Rachel,” Leah moaned. “Relax, your naughty little ass can take it.”

I tried to relax, to let this huge, black cock invade my ass. He slid in deeper and deeper, relentlessly pushing his cock into me. And then he was all the way in me and I moaned in relief. Then, he was pulling out. It felt weird, and good. Then he was pushing back into me. It hurt less and less and felt better and better. He went faster as my ass relaxed, bottoming out with every thrust, his balls slapping against my ass cheeks.

“So fucking tight,” the black guy groaned. “I love fucking tight, white asses!”

I ran my hands across his muscular, dark chest as he started to pound my ass, his face clenched in pleasure and his eyes squeezed shut. I started moving my hips, fucking back against him as the pleasure seemed to take control of my hips. I could feel another cum building. The cock slamming harder and harder into me and then I was cumming, my ass clenching on his cock and I was moaning like a whore.

“Fucking slut!” he groaned. “You want my cum, slut?”

“Yes, please cum in my slutty ass,” I moaned.

“Here it comes, bitch!” he grunted and then I could feel his warm, hot cum flooding my ass. He pulled out of me, grabbed my hair and shoved his dick in my mouth. “Clean me, bitch! Clean your dirty, slutty ass off my dick.”

His cock tasted sour as I sucked on it. Never in a million years would that drab brunette think about sucking a cock that had just been up her ass. Hell, that drab brunette never would have let a cock up there to begin with. Or a second cock, I thought happily as I felt another guy pushing his cock into my well lubed ass, sliding in far easier than the first.

“Let me fuck that pussy,” a guy said.

“I’m fucking her ass!”

“So, we can do her together.”

Together? A cock in both holes? Was that possible? Could a person have that much fun? I was pulled into a guy’s lap, his hard cock thrust up into my cunt as the other guy spread my asscheeks and found my tight asshole and slid in. I was so full of cock I thought I would burst. As I started to pump my hips, enjoying both cocks stuffing my holes, I learned that a blonde, at least, could have that much fun!

To be continued…

Click here for Part 4.

The Devil’s Pact Chapter Thirty-Two: Decisions

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Chapter 32: Decisions

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2013


Story Codes: Male/Female, Male/Females, Male/Female/Teen female, Female/Teen female, Female/Female, Hermaphrodite,Female, Mind Control, Magic, Female Masturbation, Oral, Toy, Incest, Orgy

For a list of all the Devil’s Pact Chapters and other stories click here

Comments are very welcome. I would like all criticism, positive and negative, so long as its
constructive, and feedback is very appreciated.



Click here for Chapter 31.



Desiree de la Fuente

I caught Alison’s eyes across the dining room, across all the shouting women.

They had just left. Mark and Mary. With a few words, I was suddenly horrified to discover I didn’t choose to be their…slut. My entire world was crumbling as I realized for the last three weeks of my life I had been a different person, a plaything for Mark and Mary. Someone to satiate their lusts and cook them food. I had always thought of myself as a strong, independent woman, not easily cowed or swayed. And yet, Mark says one word and I begged to be his whore. I shivered in disgust.

“We should call the cops,” Fiona was shouting.

“What good would that do?” Lillian demanded. “Master controls the police. Just be a good girl and calm down. You’re one of their chosen women, I don’t see what you’re all worked up about?”

Fiona flushed. “Some of us aren’t sluts who enjoy being degraded!”

Lillian’s pale face flushed with color and she screeched as she leapt at the strawberry-blonde Fiona. Noel grabbed Lillian and threw her back, standing between the two women. Fiona gave a snarl and fled the room. Alison caught my eyes and pointed upstairs. I nodded and we slipped out as Noel and Lillian started shouting at each other.

I sighed in relief as I closed the door to our bedroom. It hit me then. This was my house, and I was forced to stay in the guest bedroom. Mark and Mary stole my bedroom when they stole the house from Brandon and myself. Tears started welling up in my eyes as the full enormity of what had happened crashed into me.

“Shh,” Alison whispered, hugging me.

My heart quickened in my breast. Alison had this nympho act. Well, maybe it wasn’t an act, but underneath she was a sweet, loving girl. I felt relief sweep through me as I held her. I loved Alison, not because Mark or Mary made me, but because I really loved her. I wrapped my arms around her, holding mi Sirenita, my little mermaid, to me. I found her full lips and kissed her, tasting the watermelon lip gloss she wore.

When I broke the kiss, Alison’s brown eyes shined with love. I stroked her face, ran my hands through her bubblegum-pink hair. It was a shame she dyed it. Alison showed me a picture of her a year ago and she had the most beautiful, honey-brown hair. Alison’s left hand grabbed mine, the diamond engagement ring sparkling on her finger. When I saw the ring I just knew it was perfect, two mermaids were engraved on the band, their arms were the mount for the diamond. Alison brought my hand down to her bodice. We were both wearing the disgusting maid outfits that Mark liked us to wear. Outfits with transparent bodices that exposed our breasts and skirts so short that when we bent over our butts and vaginas were exposed. It was just obscene.

Alison took my hand and shoved it down her bodice. I could feel her full breast and the silver barbell that pierced her nipple. “Do you still love me?” Alison asked as I fondled her breast.

“Yes, mi Sirenita,” I purred.

Somehow, this beautiful creature had captured my heart. Maybe it was the fact we were thrown together and forced to share a bed, maybe I was always attracted to women, deep down inside me. Maybe she was my soulmate. I didn’t know. All I knew is that I’ve never felt anything for another person like I do for her. Well, that wasn’t true. I felt this way to Mark and Mary before they freed me from their spell. But, this was real. I gave her breast a nice squeeze.

“Good,” she whispered and pulled my face down to kiss me again as I played with her breast.

Alison deftly maneuvered me to the bed as we kissed and pushed me down to sit on the mattress; I was breathing heavily as she quickly shrugged off the maid’s outfit, revealing all her naked beauty. She was young, only seventeen, and had the perky curves of a teenager. Her skin was pale and beautiful and soft as silk. Her pussy was shaved and she had tattooed, “Cum on in,” with an arrow that pointed down to her pussy.

I grabbed her hips and pulled her to me, kissing her flat belly. I slipped off the bed so I was kneeling before her, my face inches from her tight pussy. Her clit was hard, peaking out of its hood, and I could smell her honey. Her thighs parted eagerly for my lips and I licked up her slit. I could feel her body tremble with pleasure as my tongue caressed her.

“Oh, fuck that’s nice,” Alison moaned. “Umm, I love it when you eat my pussy, Desiree.”

I spread open her clam, and licked around her pink, wrinkled labia, gathering a tongue-full of her sweet honey. I sucked her labia into my mouth, enjoying the feel of her intimate flesh on my lips before I kissed higher up to her clitoris. I swirled my tongue around her little pearl and Alison gave a sharp intake of pleasure.

“You keep that up and you’re gonna make me cum,” Alison purred.

“Promise?” I asked with a saucy smile.

Alison laughed and then moaned as I dived back into her delicious pussy. I decided to follow her tattoo’s instructions and shoved two fingers up inside her hungry clam. Alison’s fingers were digging into my hair as I slowly fucked them in and out. I went back to nibbling on her clit, ever so gently. Her hips were starting to rotate, grinding her sweet clam on my lips as her pleasure mounted inside her.

“Umm, yes! Oh yes!” she purred in delight. “Just keep playing with my button! Umm, yes, right there! Oh, fuck! Desiree! I’m cumming! Oh, my Latin beauty!”

My mouth was rewarded with some fresh juices as Alison creamed my lips. Her body shook on my lips as a nice orgasm spread through her. I kept eating her out, wanting to give mi Sirenita another cum. I pumped my fingers in and out of her faster, bent them just so, and found her G-spot. She bucked on my face as a second, stronger orgasm swept through her.

“Oh fuck! That was amazing, Desiree!”

I looked up at her, my face sticky with her juices as she smiled happily back down at me. I stood up and she kissed me, her tongue lapping up her juices. Her fingers were behind me, finding the outfit’s zipper and suddenly the disgusting maid outfit was falling off my lush curves. Alison smiled, staring lustily at my large, nut-brown breasts. She reached out, hefting one of my melons, squeezing it with her hand, then bent down and swirled her pierced tongue about my hard nipple. I moaned in delight, enjoying the feel of her metal stud against my nub.

“Let me get the strap-on,” Alison happily told me.

I stretched out on our bed and watched Alison’s ass as she bent down to root in our dresser. Her tight, wet slit was on display between her slim thighs, swollen and flushed from her orgasms. She found the strap-on, pulling the clear, plastic harness up her legs. A hot-pink dildo was attached to the front, and Alison expertly tightened the straps. We had a lot of experience using it on each other. Alison posed, stroking her fake cock. The only other thing she wore was a gold choker, her name written in diamonds.

A similar choker was about my neck, my name written in onyxes. It proclaimed me the slut of Mark and Mary. Sudden anger blossomed inside me and I reached behind my neck to take the vile slave collar off.

“What are you doing?” Alison gasped.

I frowned at her. “I’m taking this damned thing off.”

“You don’t want to be their slut anymore?” Alison asked. There were tears brimming in her eyes.

“You do?” I asked, stunned. Why would Alison want to stay with them?

Alison sat on the bed next to me, taking my dark hands in her pale grip, kissing my knuckles. “I wanted to be Mark’s slave,” she confessed. “I’ve always fantasized about being submissive to a powerful man. When I discovered Mark was fucking Lillian while she was cashiering at Hot Topic, I got so wet.” A smile appeared on her lips and her eyes became distant. “When Mark fucked me in the store, I came so hard. I was so happy when he asked me to be his sex slave, Desiree. Almost as happy as when you proposed to me.”

“What about us?” I asked her. “I thought you loved me?”

“I do,” she protested. “We can both be theirs, Desiree. Together.”

I was horrified. “I can’t, Alison. Please don’t ask me to do this!”

“How is this any different than Brandon?” Alison asked me. “You married him for his money, submitted to his lusts for a comfortable life. Master and Mistress will give us all we desire. All we have to do is satisfy their lusts.” A naughty smile appeared on her lips. “And don’t tell me you hated the sex.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but no words came out. She was right. I had enjoyed it. The best sex I ever had. She sensed my hesitation and pounced on me, kissing me with her hungry lips. Could I submit to them, be their slave? I married Brandon for his money, for the comforts he could give me. I let the disgusting man paw at my body. At least I enjoyed the sex with Mark and Mary.

My legs parted for Alison, I moaned into her sweet lips as the dildo prodded my clam. I reached down, grabbing the plastic cock and guided it inside me. Alison eagerly slammed it home inside me, pumping her ass vigorously. My hands reached out, grabbing her tight, teenage ass and pulling her into me. I could feel her hard nipples, and the harder nipple piercings, rubbing against my pillowy chest. Every time Alison buried the dildo in my cunt, the harness ground against my clit, building my pleasure.

“Let’s be slaves together,” Alison panted, her breath hot on my ear. I shivered as her tongue traced my earlobe. “We’ll be slut-wives! Pleasing each other when Master and Mistress do not need us. Oh, please be my slut-wife, Desiree! Please, please, please!”

My fingernails bit into Alison’s ass as my orgasm crashed through me. “Yes!” I howled. “Oh, yes! I’ll be your slut-wife!”

Alison’s happy smile was worth it. She had the same happy smile when I proposed to her. It took me a moment to realize the same smile was gracing my lips. I grabbed her pink tresses and pulled her lips down to mine and kissed my fiancee, my future slut-wife, as tears of happiness rolled down my cheeks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

April Lovel

I stayed quiet as the argument raged, sitting quietly at the table. Across from me, Violet sat just as quietly. Everyone was slipping away. Fiona in an angry huff, Lillian and Noel arguing, Thamina in a daze. I didn’t even notice when Alison and Desiree slipped out. Sam gathered up her translations and walked into Mary’s studio. Jessica calmly walked out, followed by a puzzled Willow.

I was just confused.

I vividly remember Mark bringing Felicity and I to his house. We were both virgins and it was such an exciting day. Mark taught me to suck his cock, then I was lying on the bed, next to Felicity, as Mark ate out my pussy, and Mary ate out Felicity’s pussy. I had such an amazing orgasm. And then Mark mounted me and took my virginity and I found myself falling in love with him. And I remembered how hurt I had been when they kicked me out of the bedroom. I gave Mark my virginity, my innocent heart, and he tossed me aside.

And I pined after him over the weekend.

And them Mary appeared at my school. And I became her slave. And then I got to be Mark’s slave and I was so happy. I got to be with the man whom I’d given my heart to, my innocence to. The last week had been so amazing. Even freed of his…what? Spell? I still didn’t regret Mark taking my virginity. But did I want to continue being his…slut?

I’d be giving up my dreams of going to Digipan and learning to program video games. Was Mark worth it? I would be happy. And Mark must love me if he gave me this freedom. Mary liked to talk about how much Mark loved her and that’s why he freed her. Well, Mark must love me too. I smiled, Mark loved me, and that thought sent happy butterflies flapping through my stomach.

I glanced up at Violet and saw tears running down her face.

I moved around the table, sat next to her and hugged the pretty, innocent teen. “It’ll be alright, Violet,” I told her.

“I…don’t…want…” she sobbed, “to…go…back…home…”

“Shh, you don’t have to go home,” I told her.

“But…but Master and Mistress…they don’t….want me…anymore.”

I hugged her. “Of course they do,” I told her, kissing her salty cheek. “They just love us so much, they are giving us the choice to stay with them.”

“Really?” Violet asked, rubbing her face. Her eyes were red and puffy from her crying, and it just made her look even cuter.

“Yes.”

“I don’t have to go back to my mom?”

“No,” I said firmly.

And she relaxed, a tremulous smile on her lips. “Good.” She reached out and grabbed my hand. “Are you staying, April?” she asked me.

“Of course,” I told her. Master loved me. And Mistress, too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fiona Cavanagh

Shame burned through my body as I cried on the curb outside of the house. I was wearing the disgusting clothes Mark made me wear and the memory of all the times I was forced to…pleasure him and Mary curdled my stomach. I ripped the choker off my neck and heaved it off into the bushes and sobbed into my hands.

Someone sat down next to me. Through my tear-filled eyes I saw Thamina, dressed as modestly as she could, which was not that much, her colorful headscarf wrapped about her head. No choker encircled her throat. She wasn’t an idiot like Lillian who seemed to find it just fine that Mark essentially raped all of us.

“I know,” Thamina whispered comfortingly. “Come with me.”

“Where?” I asked. I had nowhere to go. No car, no phone, no money. I left everything behind when Mark took me. I left Hank behind. Another sob threatened to overwhelm me as I thought of my boyfriend. He must be sick with worry. I vaguely remembered Jessica saying he filed a missing-person report on me.

“My place,” Thamina said, holding her keys. Mark gave Thamina a SUV for winning the masturbation contest. Another shudder of disgust went through me. I had masturbated in public for Mark. A crowd of people watched us, made bets on us. Filmed us with their phones. I felt so dirty; I needed to scrub the filth off my skin.

Thamina’s white Ford Escape had somehow escaped the firefight untouched. The garage door was open and I could see Mark’s Mustang leaking antifreeze from a round that went through the front grill. Good. The bastard deserves that, and more, to happen to him. I climbed into the passenger seat and Thamina started up the SUV and we drove down the street.

Out front there was a media circus being managed by the Puyallup Police under Mark’s control. There was a young, teenage girl with black hair in a plaited braid and a smiling face. She wore a red sundress decorated with white flowers and was taking a picture of herself in front of the sign of the neighborhood.

We drove in silence to Thamina’s apartment near Canyon Road. Deer Creek Apartments was the name, one of those gated-communities. Thamina almost forgot her code when we pulled up to the security box and it took three tries before she punched it in right. “I don’t know where my remote for the gate is,” Thamina explained, clearly embarrassed about forgetting the code.

“It’s alright, Thamina,” I told her, patting her knee.

She pulled into her parking spot, and led me up to the third floor apartment. She unlocked the door and went in. “It’s been more than two weeks since I’ve been home.”

“Me, too,” I replied, bitterly. I saw her phone and asked if I could use it. Thamina gave me a nod as she disappeared into her bedroom.

“Hi,” a woman’s voice answered when I called the apartment I shared with Hank, my boyfriend.

“Oh, hello,” I said in surprise. Who was this woman in my apartment? Did I call the right number? “Is Hank there?”

“Who wants to know,” the woman asked coldly. There was a possessive tone to her voice that caused my stomach to sink.

Hank had already replaced me. I slammed the phone down and fell to the floor. We had been dating for two years and he replaces me in two weeks? My body rocked with sobs. God damn Mark fucking Glassner. Why me! Why did you have to choose me and ruin my life! I was happy. Things were going great with Hank!

“It will be alright,” Thamina murmured, hugging me.

She was dressed in a long, dark skirt and very conservative blouse. A blue and red headscarf was wrapped around her head, leaving only her round, dusky face with those sexy, dark eyes. I licked my lips, a heat flushing through my body. Her lips were red and moist and I felt drawn to them. I could feel her body stiffen as I kissed those lips, then she was pushing away from me.

“What are you doing, Fiona?” she asked.

What was I doing? “I don’t know,” I told her. “Christ, the last two weeks have screwed my head all up. I just couldn’t resist kissing you. I…I’m sorry. I’ll leave.”

I went to stand up and she caught my hand and pulled me back and kissed me and it was my turn to stiffen in surprise. “You are not the only one that has changed,” Thamina said, disgust painting her face. “I know it is wrong, a sin, for women to be together. But…”

“You just can’t control yourself?” I asked.

“Yes,” she sighed in resignation and pulled me in for a second kiss.

Her lips were soft and tender. I stroked her face and brushed her headscarf. I pulled it off, her black hair falling free and beautiful about her head. Our kiss became more passionate, my tongue pressing against her lips, and they parted to let me in. I felt her gentle hand stroking my shoulder, then slide down the slope of my breast. I felt the low-cut blouse I was wearing get pushed down and my hard nipple exposed. Her finger gently traced my areola, sending a tingling pleasure throughout my body.

“Oh, Thamina,” I sighed as she bent down and captured my nipple with her sucking lips. I cradled her head to my breast, running my fingers through her silky hair. “Oh, that’s nice.”

Thamina licked her way back up my chest and throat and we were kissing again. My fingers fumbled at the buttons to her blouse as we kissed. Finally, I pushed open her blouse and felt a bra about her breasts. I slid my hands around to her back and found the clasp. It was harder to unclasp another person’s bra then my own, I realized. I finally got the clasp unhooked and broke the kiss to look down at her dusky breasts and her dark nipples.

“Fiona,” Thamina murmured as I sucked her nipple into my mouth. “This is so wrong.”

“Then stop,” I told her. I was too horny to care about right and wrong.

“I can’t,” she sighed, and we were kissing again, her body pressing against mine. The straps of my blouse slipped off my shoulders, exposing both my breasts, and I could feel Thamina’s hard nipples kissing my own nipples.

I pushed Thamina back, lowering her to the floor and settling on top of her. Her hands pulled the thong I was wearing off and pushed up my skirt. I pulled up her long skirt until it bunched about her waist. She was wearing plain, boring panties and I pulled those off of her, exposing a V of black hair that pointed right at her waxed, wet cunt. I grimaced, my pussy was waxed bare because of Mark’s perversions, too.

“Oh, Fiona,” she sighed as I settled atop her, our clits rubbing against each other as I started to trib her. “Ohh, that feels so nice!”

I ground my clit into her, moaning wantonly. “Your clit feels so good on mine,” I purred to Thamina and her hands caught my strawberry-blonde hair and pulled me down to kiss her.

Our hips rolled and pumped as we tribbed each other. Thamina’s hands roamed my back, her fingers lightly tracing my muscles and spine, leaving little trails of fire across my skin. I rubbed our clits together with hard, slow thrusts of my hips, building the pleasure inside me. My ass flexed and her gentle hands were suddenly groping my plump cheeks, pulling me harder into her pussy.

“Fiona! Fiona!” Thamina gasped. “Oh, you are driving me crazy!”

Harder, faster, I ground our clits together. Thamina bucked beneath me as her orgasm exploded inside her. She gasped so sweetly, squeezing my ass almost painfully as her passion overcame her. I rubbed against her clit once, twice, and then I screamed out her name as my pussy convulsed and my orgasm surged through my body.

“Wow,” I whispered and settled my weight on Thamina to cuddle with her and enjoy the post-orgasmic bliss.

But, Thamina pushed me off her and pushed her skirt down. Buttoning up her blouse she whispered, “That was wrong, Fiona. We can’t do this again.”

“Then why did it feel so good?”

“It felt good with Mark and Mary,” Thamina answered. “That didn’t change how wrong it was, did it?”

No. It really didn’t.

But, it did happen again. I went to take a shower and, to my delighted shock, Thamina slipped in and we rubbed our pussies on each other’s thighs beneath the warm water. And then it happened while we shared her bed for the night. And once more when we woke up in the morning. After every time we made love, Thamina would say it was the last, that it was wrong, and every time she would be the one to kiss me first.

“Do you need a place to stay?” Thamina asked as we ate a simple breakfast of pancakes. It was the only food in the apartment that hadn’t gone bad.

“Yeah,” I answered, hopeful.

“Then, you can stay here.” Thamina took a deep breath. “But, do not expect us to do that again.”

“Of course not,” I said, nodding soberly. I grabbed my plate and went to her sink to start rinsing it when I felt her body press against mine from behind.

“We can’t do it anymore,” she whispered as her lips found the back of my neck. “Because it’s wrong.”

Her hand slid up my thigh underneath my skirt and I moaned softly when she found my bare pussy. I didn’t know what Thamina and I had. It certainly wasn’t love. But it was comforting. I gasped as she slipped a finger up inside me. Comforting and fun.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jessica St. Pierre

I didn’t know what to think when Mark freed me from his…power? Spell? I didn’t really know what to call it. Who would think magic and all that crap was real? What I did know is that I needed a drink. I found my car still parked out on the street. My poor baby, a powder-blue Prius, had a passenger window shot out and a bullet hole in the trunk. Sighing, I climbed into the car, pushed the button to start it up, and drove away.

American Joes was the first bar I found. It looked like a dive, but I didn’t care. I needed a drink, desperately. I walked in; the few men in the pub were fixed on the TV. It was Debra reporting about what happened this afternoon. My heart began to hammer. I spent the firefight crouched behind a car, next to Debra, as her cameraman fearlessly filmed the firefight. “I was in Fallujah during the Surge,” he said dismissively when Debra suggested he take some cover.

I had never felt so alive as during those few minutes. It was almost intoxicating. Being around Mark and Mary was intoxicating, too. I sipped on my Coors lite. It was wrong what Mark did to me, that was painfully obvious. But, Mark was a powerful man. And he was only growing more and more powerful. And powerful men got what they wanted.

I could help him. I could be there, in the thick of it. Mark already relied on me to help the media. And so what if he fucked me. The sex was amazing. I could feel my pussy moistening in my silk panties just thinking about it. Mark was so powerful, and I could be one of his favorite women. I shuddered at the thought. I pulled my choker out of my pocket. Made of gold, with my name written in sapphires. I rubbed the engraving: “Mark and Mary’s slut forever.”

Forever. Forever the lover of the most powerful man in the world. There was no doubt in my mind just how powerful Mark was after today. He healed himself after he got shot five times, for Pete’s sake. Finishing off my beer, I clasped the choker about my throat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Samnag “Sam” Soun

I sat the Magicks of the Witch of Endor and my dictionaries and reference books down on the desk in Mary’s studio, next to one of the computers. The last few days had definitely been strange. One minute I was working on my Ph.D. dissertation, the next I was being made the plaything of Mark and Mary, and then they asked me to translate this book.

The really wild part was all the spells and rituals in the book were real. Mark sold his soul for power and used that power to control me. I was torn, I did not want to be his plaything, but the magic was so intriguing. There were just such fascinating spells in it! There was a spell that could steal a nun’s powers and give it to a Warlock. Another spell let you summon the spirits of the dead to scry with. The book told you how to summon a variety of demons: Asherah, Marduk, Lilith, Hadath, Molech, Astarte, Chemosh, Baal-zebub, Dagon, Tammuz, Milcom, Ashtoreth, and, of course, Lucifer. The very being Mark and Mary apparently got their powers from. And there were magics in here even I could perform. Most required you to sell your soul, but anyone could conjure the dead or heal the sick and I found one spell that only a woman could cast.

I flushed, remembering what the spell did. It allowed a woman to conjure her own cock. Allowing a woman to ‘have the seed of life like a man, and plant that seed in a fertile vessel.’ What would it be like to have my own cock? It was such a disgusting idea, and yet an itch was forming in my pussy, my juices puddling on the leather seat of the chair.

I slid my hands down my naked flesh, down to my waxed pussy. On Monday, Mary sent me to this salon to get my thick, black bush waxed. It was weird, feeling bare down there, and strange to play with my pussy and not feel my wiry hair tickling my fingers as they slowly got matted-down with my juices. I teased my slit, running my hand up and down my labia. My breath caught as I pictured a cock thrusting out from me as I pinched my clit.

I imagined bending caramel-skinned Jessica over the couch. She would moan as I slid my cock inside her warm pussy. I slipped my fingers up inside me, imagining that’s what Jessica’s pussy would feel like around my cock, all warm and slippery. Jessica would gasp and pant, and moan so beautifully as I fucked her. Her caramel breasts would shake from my thrusts, waving her dark nipples about. I would spank her ass as I fucked her, and pull on her honey-brown hair.

I dug my fingers faster and faster into my cunt, pinching my clit with my other hand. I leaned back in the computer chair. Jessica would cum on my cock, her pussy clenching, and she would gasp my name. I shuddered on the chair, my pussy clenching about my fingers as a nice cum washed through me.

Breathing heavily, I sucked my fingers clean of my tangy, spicy flavor. I grabbed my notes and found the passage for the Shophkah spell, reading the ritual again. It was simple. I just needed a woman to lie with. I chewed on my fingernail as I debated performing the spell. This might be my last night of freedom. Just because Mark and Mary say they’ll free us, I don’t think they’ll free me. They need the knowledge in this book. They need me.

Where could I find a woman to fuck? There was a club I heard the other sluts talk about. One that Mary liked to go to. Some lesbian club called the something Diver. The Cake Diver? No, that couldn’t be it. I pulled out my smart phone and did a search and found a club in Tacoma called the Clam Diver.

I went down into the basement where the bed I shared with Xiu was. She was a nasty girl, I learned. Loved to be hurt. The more you hurt her, the wetter she got. I went to the dresser I shared with Xiu. Mary had me go shopping on Monday to get “appropriate clothing,” as she put it, after the waxing. I found a tight, blue dress covered in sequins. The skirt was very short, and while the bodice went up to my neck, an oval was cut out exposing the inner slopes of my breasts.

I called for a taxi and paid with my debit card. As the cab drove me to Tacoma, I thought about my future. I wouldn’t be Mark and Mary’s sex slave again, not if I could help it. But, maybe, they would let me be their…adviser. Their Vizier. I could inform them about the magic and maybe I would make my own deal with the devil. As long as I stayed subservient to them, there’s no reason that I couldn’t have some fun.

The music in the club was a booming dubstep. It was dark inside, various colored spotlights flashing about the club. There was a bar and circular tables on one side, and a large dance floor on the other. The club was filled with women of all shapes and races: lipstick lesbians, punk girls with spiked hair, butch women with short hair, goth girls in depressing blacks, and many more.

I had fun, dancing and grinding on a few girls. I hit it off with this one girl who had the most unusual hair. Half was dyed bubblegum pink, the other half cotton-candy blue. In fact, her name was Candy and whether that was her real name or an affectation, I didn’t know. She found my glasses cute, and we were soon making out on one of the couches that lined the wall of the club.

Candy was quite affectionate, and her mouth as sweet as candy. She was short, like me, and very curvy, unlike me. Her hand slipped under my short skirt and started playing with my shaved pussy as we kissed. Feeling bold, I pushed up her skirt and discovered she wasn’t wearing panties. I ran my finger through her smooth pussy. I gathered up a copious coating of her juices and sucked them into my mouth. “Umm, you taste as sweet as candy,” I joked.

She licked her lips. “Why do you think I’m called Candy?”

I laughed and kissed her again. She grabbed my hips and pulled me into her and our clits started rubbing together. The spell required me to ‘lie with a woman as if I were a man, and fully know her,’ and it sounded like a euphemism for tribadism. When I ‘fully know her,’ which I’m hoping means the both of us cumming, I was to utter the Hebrew word for cock, Shophkah. All the spells that I had seen were Hebrew words. I had only translated maybe a sixth of the book and skimmed the rest.

Our pussies ground together harder and faster, our orgasms building. “Oh yes!” Candy gasped. “Oh, god yes! I love this couch! I always get lucky on this couch!”

I rubbed harder and harder. “Oh yeah, who else have you done this with!”

“Oh, this beautiful, auburn-haired woman!” she gasped. “Two weeks ago. She was the most stunningly gorgeous woman in the world!”

She was talking about Mary, I realized. What a small world. Our clits were rubbing hard together as we pleasured each other. Candy was moaning wordlessly, her finger slipping into the cleft of my buttocks and teasing my asshole. When her finger slid into my ass, I slammed my clit into hers at the sudden intrusion. Candy bucked beneath me as she came.

“Fuck, fuck, that’s so good!” she shrieked, wiggling her finger deeper into my bowels.

I felt my orgasm shudder through me and I moaned one word, “Shophkah!”

Warmth bubbled up in my pussy and pleasure shook through my body as my clitoris became red hot. I moaned and felt pleasure as my clit engorged and lengthened, pushing into Candy’s pussy as it grew. I was suddenly surrounded by her warm, slippery flesh. It was better than I imagined it would be. My hips started pumping my cock inside her delightful cunt.

Candy’s eyes opened in shock. “What the fuck!” she gasped. “Is that a dildo?”

I didn’t answer her, I was too lost in the pleasure around my cock to care about anything other than pumping it in and out of her pussy. Candy’s hand wormed between our bodies, sliding down to feel where my cock penetrated her cunt. Her fingers wrapped around the shaft of my cock and followed it up to my groin. I could see her eyes widen in amazement as she realized what she felt. Her fingers slipped underneath and found my wet pussy.

“Holy shit! You have a cock, now!”

“Yeah,” I panted, fucking her harder and harder.

“How?”

“Magic.”

She let out a throaty moan. “I love magic!” Her hips started thrusting up to meet me and I kissed her sweet lips.

My cock felt so amazing in her slippery depths. I was completely enveloped in warm, soft flesh. Every movement of my cock built the pleasure mounting inside me. I fucked her faster and faster, feeling an overwhelming urge to cum as fast as possible. God, no wonder guys were so quick to finish. This urge was almost driving all thoughts from my mind. I just needed to cum.

I groaned loudly as this pressure shot out from my ovaries and out through my cock and I spilt my seed into Candy’s sweet cunt. “Oh my god, you can cum!” she gasped. “Holy shit!” More blasts flooded her pussy as she came a second time, her cunt contracting pleasantly about my cock. “Holy shit!” Candy panted one more time.

I concentrated, the spell said I could summon and dismiss the cock at will, and I felt my cock shrinking and withdrawing from her cunt until it was back to being my tiny little clit. Candy just gaped, rubbing her eyes as she saw my dick-less groin.

“Wow, oh, wow! Can you fuck me with that again?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lillian Franks

I didn’t get why the other girls were upset. Being Mark and Mary’s sluts was so rewarding. I was so jealous that day when I first met Mark and he took Alison as his sex slave and left me to work the rest of my shift at Hot Topic with a cunt full of his cum. I stalked out of the house, I didn’t see the point in hanging around with these ungrateful ladies. If they wanted to throw away the great honor of being Mark’s slut, fine with me. More Master and Mistress for me to fuck.

Feeling horny, I decided not to waste the opportunity of having the night to myself and grabbed my phone, looking up this hot piece of ass’s number. “Hey Zelda,” I said when she answered the phone.

Zelda was this cute, punk girl I fucked a few weeks ago. I met her at Hot Topic when Master came in the second time and made me his slut. I filmed our fucking so Master and Mistress could watch it later. She was a great lay and I wouldn’t mind making it with the girl again.

“You never called me back,” Zelda pouted. “I thought we had a great time.”

“We did,” I quickly told her. “In fact, I’m looking to have another good time.”

Zelda gave a wicked laugh. “I bet Spike would just love that.”

“Spike?” I asked. “Is he cute?”

Zelda purred. “You’ll just want to eat him up. Come on over.”

I pulled on a red corset and a very short, black skirt trimmed with black lace. Thigh-high, fishnet stockings covered my pale legs, held up by a black garter belt. I didn’t bother with the panties. I pulled my black hair, streaked with blue and purple highlights, into two pigtails. I looked hot. My gold choker glinted prettily around my neck so everyone could see who I belonged to. I happily headed outside to my blue Fusion Hybrid. I frowned, the passenger door had three bullet holes in it and the passenger seat was leaking stuffing.

Oh well, Master had the money to fix it. I hopped in, and started up my car. I had won a masturbation contest to get this car. That had been exciting, pleasuring myself while a bunch of strangers watched. It was so nasty. That’s why I loved being their slave, I got to do all these nasty, fun things. I gunned the car, and roared out of the street, past all the media, and took off to Zelda’s apartment.

She didn’t live too far away, Chestnut Hill apartments off Meridian, halfway down South Hill into the Puyallup Valley and downtown Puyallup. I parked my car in front of the M building and climbed up the stairs to the third floor and knocked on the door. Zelda opened it, wearing only a skimpy, black thong. Her small breasts had gold rings pierced through her nipples and tattooed on her right breast was a green serpent coiled about her tit. That was new, she didn’t have that two weeks ago. The serpent’s tongue flicked out pink towards her areola to lick at her nipple. A sultry grin appeared on her almost-cute face. She would be cute, except her hair was spiked up into a black mohawk streaked with red, the sides shaved off.

“Slut,” Zelda smiled and grabbed my pigtail and pulled me in for a kiss. My hands found her breasts, pulling on her nipple rings as her tongue stabbed into my lips and roughly wrestled with my tongue. She broke the kiss and pulled me into the apartment by my pigtail.

Sitting on her couch was a cute guy wearing only a pair of ripped jeans. His chest was muscular and hairless. His face had a chiseled chin and deep, blue eyes. Just like Master’s eyes. His hair was shaved and black spikes were pierced through his eyebrows, a black bull’s ring pierced his nose, and both of his ear lobes were distorted by wide, black ear expanders.

“This that girl?” Spike grunted, taking a pull from a brown-bottled beer. A grin split his lips. “You’re one hot chick. Zelda says you like to party.”

“I love to party,” I purred.

“What’s this about your throat?” Zelda asked, fingering my choker. “Mark and Mary’s slut forever,” she read and frowned. “Wait, not that Mark?”

I grinned at her.

“Holy shit,” Spike gasped. “That was wild what happened today. Did he really die and come back to life?”

I blinked. “Well, he was shot in the chest a bunch and…” my voice broke. The image of Master lying bleeding on the lawn would haunt me for the rest of my life. Get yourself together, slut, he’s alive. “We thought he was going to die and then he was all better.”

“Fuck,” Zelda muttered. “Is he, like, a God or something?”

A God? He could do some amazing things. Both of them could. “Maybe he is,” I answered. “And I’m one of his favorites.”

Spike pulled me to him and I sat down on the couch next to him. He boldly pulled up my skirt exposing my shaved cunt, his fingers ran down my slit then shoved roughly inside me. I gasped in the mix of pleasure and discomfort. “So a God’s cock has been up here?”

His thick fingers were pushing in and out of my cunt. “Yes,” I hissed. Zelda sank down on the other side of me, her fingers unlacing the black ties of my corset. The corset loosened enough for Zelda to fish out my left breast and I moaned as her lips kissed my nipple, then she softly bit it with her teeth. I jumped when Spike’s thumb started rubbing hard on my clit. “Oh, fuck!” I moaned.

Spike unzipped his jeans and pulled out a hard, thick cock. A silver ring pierced the cock’s head, below the urethra. A Prince Albert piercing, I thought with a wicked smile. “You feel wet enough, babe,” Spike moaned, climbing atop me.

I spread my legs eagerly for him. “Fuck the slut,” Zelda urged.

His cock nudged at my pussy. I groaned as he slid into me, the ring rubbing deliciously down the length of my pussy as he filled me up. He drew back and slammed into me again. God, his cock felt so good inside me. I always loved fucking a guy with a pierced cock. Zelda kissed me as my pussy was getting pounded by Spike.

“Fuck, fuck you’re tight, babe!” Spike moaned, his balls slapping against my taint with every thrust. “Fuck, fuck! I can see why a God would fuck you! This is some grade A cunt I’m getting!”

My orgasm was building quickly as the metal ring rubbed against my pussy’s walls. I gasped into Zelda’s greedy mouth as her hand slid down and found my little clit and started rubbing it. I writhed beneath Spike as my cum exploded through my cunt, squeezing down on his big cock. He kept right on fucking me, pounding me harder and harder. My insides were on fire and Zelda kept playing with my clit.

I broke the kiss, gasping, “Oh fuck, I’m cumming again! Ohh, keep fucking me! Yes, Yes!” Zelda’s finger was making my clit feel amazing as she stroked it. “Fuck, keep playing with my clit, slut! Ummm, yes!”

“I’m gonna cum in your pussy,” Spike grunted. “I bet you’re the type of slut that loves it when a guy busts his nut inside her!”

“Oh yes,” I panted. “Flood my naughty little cunt with your cum! I’m goin’ to make Zelda lick it all out!”

Zelda pinched my nipple. “You think so, slut?”

“Yes!” I screamed as a third orgasm crashed through me. Spike groaned as my pussy hungrily milked his cum from his balls. I loved the feeling of hot cum splashing inside me. Spike pulled out and buried himself one last time inside me, before his cock withdrew, leaving me empty. I could feel his cum run out wetly.

“Clean her pussy out, Zelda!” Spike barked. Then a grin broke out on his face. “She’s got to be clean for her God.”

I moaned as Zelda’s head bent down and lapped at my messy cunt. Spike was right, Master wouldn’t be pleased if my cunt was full of some other man’s cum, tomorrow. I came a fourth time as Zelda’s skilled tongue found all of Spike’s cum inside me. And then, I got to return the favor to Zelda, licking out Spike’s cum from her tasty snatch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Korina Stavros

I slipped silently out of the kitchen as Fiona and Lillian fought, wandering upstairs. I entered Master and Mistress’s bedroom, crawling onto their bed. I rubbed my cheek against their sheets and hugged their pillow. I could smell their scent and felt loved.

I was carrying Master’s baby, I thought happily.

My arm ached from where I got shot, and I shifted to get more comfortable. Maybe it was wrong what they did to me, but I enjoyed every minute of it. Even drinking another woman’s pee. Fiona didn’t seem to be as happy about being their slut. That was a shame, I had come to love drinking her pee. I was pregnant and that changed everything for me. Maybe I would be more angry if it wasn’t for the baby. Or maybe not. Master told me he loved me, and so did Mistress. My child would be loved and cared for, and that is what’s most important.

So there was no question in my mind what I would do. I fingered the gold choker, tight about my throat, tracing the opal stones set in a plate on the front. Korina, the opals spelled, and below that I traced the words engraved, “Mark and Mary’s slut forever.” I was their slut, forever. It was engraved on my choker.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dr. Willow WolfTail

I drove.

When I need to think, I like to get in my red Prius and drive. It didn’t matter where I drove, just that I kept moving. I had been Dr. Willow WolfTail, OB/GYN and wife of Yancy Coleman. But, what was I, now? Mark and Mary’s sex slave. I frowned, no I would not be that. Yancy’s wife? I shook my head, no I signed those divorce papers last week.

I never should have married Yancy. We had just been together for so long, I just didn’t know how to get off the train. So, I said, “Yes,” when he proposed and I said, “I do,” when the minister asked the question. It made my family happy, it made Yancy happy. I told myself that it made me happy. But, it didn’t.

So, was I still a doctor?

That was the one thing Mark and Mary left me. They wanted me to run their free clinic. Mary told me all about her plans. The clinic’s real purpose was to find them young women to be whores for them. But, that seemed to be changing. Mary was starting to be more focused on actually helping these women. I pictured examining all those young, nubile girls and felt a flush of warmth through my body. My time as their sex slave has definitely warped my sexual appetites.

Maybe I couldn’t be their sex slave, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t run their clinic. For a price.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Agent Noel Heinrich

“I need a transfer,” I told ASAC Donavan when I entered his office.

“I thought you were happy with your, um, undercover assignment,” Donavan said. “You seemed so committed last week.”

I shivered as he leered at me. He had watched me fuck Mark Glassner in this very building. Well, that’s when I was Mark’s slave. Now, I wanted to get as far away from the creep as I could. Far away from all the people he’s enslaved, and my memories. Grief almost overwhelmed me, but I beat it down. I didn’t need that know.

“Just send me far away,” I begged. “Mark approved it.” A lie. Well, if Mark was honest about letting me go, I guess it really wasn’t.

“Well, if that’s what Mark wants,” Donavan said, and a hint of awe appeared in his voice. Jeez, was he one of those idiots buying that bull about Mark being a god? When I left the house, a group of those idiots were gathering outside with signs proclaiming Mark and Mary to be their Gods. Blind fucking idiots.

“It is,” I told him, rubbing at my neck. It felt good to have that damned choker off. I threw it into the Puyallup River on my way here. Let the fish be his damned sex slave. I was through being a man’s plaything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This is like a dream, Tiffany,” my husband said to me as we cuddled in bed.

We were both naked, my pussy aching pleasantly from our lovemaking. I stroked his chest, idly, my body pressed up against his side. It was a dream. I never thought I would be with my husband again. To hold him, and kiss him, and to feel him inside me. I wasn’t a nun anymore, I realized, I would have to get on birth control or we’d have another child.

“I love you, Sean,” I told him, squeezing him tightly. He smiled and we kissed. “I need to tell you something.” I bit my lip as he nodded. “I…I was with other people, while we were separated.”

“It’s okay,” Sean answered. “That’s all in the past.”

“Is it okay?” I asked. “I had many lovers. I was your wife and…”

“Technically, we were divorced,” he pointed out. “We still are divorced, I guess. Besides, I had women, too.”

I frowned. “Mary said you never dated.”

“No, but there were, um, women, from time to time,” he admitted.

“Who?” I asked, curious. “Why would you keep it from the girls?” A guilty flush appeared on his face and my eyes widened in realization. “Your high school students?”

“Yeah,” he sheepishly answered. “They were all willing. You know, the cool teacher thing turns some girls on. But, it was only after you left, Tif.”

“Well, I guess what was in the past is in the past,” I told Sean. “We have our new future to build. And, well, I think I’d like another child. So, I could see,” tears were filling my eyes, “…so I could see one of my children grow up.”

Sean gently brushed a tear away. “I’m old enough to be a grandpa, now. Are you sure?”

I laughed. “I know, you got old. I can’t believe there’s gray in your hair.”

“And you got younger. So not fair, Tif.”

“Oh, would you rather I got old and fat like you?” I teased.

His lips found mine. “No, you’re as beautiful as the day I met you.”

I could feel his cock hardening against my thigh. “Again?” I asked in surprise.

“They say a young, beautiful woman is the best Viagra,” Sean quipped as he pulled me atop him. “Besides, someone wants a child.”

I smiled happily as I felt his cock prodding at the entrance to my pussy and I slid down Sean’s body, forcing his wonderfully hard dick inside me. I moaned in delight as Sean filled me up. I rose up, thrusting my perky breasts forward. I slowly started riding Sean, rolling my hips as I slid up and down his shaft. Sean’s hands slid up my flat stomach to cup my breasts.

“You’re so beautiful, Tif!” he moaned. “Would you marry me, again?”

“Oh yes!” I gasped, happily. “As soon as possible.” I felt tears of joy run down my cheeks as I rode my husband. I forced down the guilt at betraying my order. It was all for Sean, all for my family. They were all I needed.

And what about the greater good, my guilt whispered up at me.

But that voice was quickly drowned out by the pleasure growing deep in my womb as Sean’s cock rubbed deliciously against my pussy walls as I rode him. The pleasure of his fingers playing gently with my breasts, the pleasure of my clit grinding into his groin on every down-stroke. And the pleasure of my orgasm as it crashed through my body and the feel of Sean’s cum shooting inside me. His eager sperm might be swimming up to a waiting egg and we would make a new life, again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Mark…” the ethereal voice whispered, “Awaken…”

I was standing in a field of wildflowers awaiting my Mary when the voice drifted across the field and I realized I was dreaming. The voice seemed to be coming from the small bridal tent where, in my dream, anyways, my Mary would be waiting to step out and walk down the aisle. I walked towards the white tent and through the open flap.

“Mark…” the beautiful woman whispered, her voice chiming like bells.

She was beautiful and young, maybe in her early twenties. Her skin was burnished bronze and her eyes were scarlet. Around her face and shoulders fell scarlet hair. She wore a simple, white tunic, her large breasts straining against the plain fabric. At her waist, a golden sword set with rubies. A soft smile graced her lips as she eyed me.

“Who are you?” I asked, suspiciously.

“I am Azrael,” the woman answered. Her tunic melted away and she stood naked before me. Her breasts were large and perfectly shaped, her nipples hard and large. Scarlet hair hid her pussy as she walked towards me. She touched me and I shuddered in pleasure. It was like being touched by Lilith.

Somehow, I was on my back and she was straddling me, my cock sliding into her pussy. The feeling was so intense, an ecstasy of pleasure surged through me as my cock was fully enveloped by her warm, wet depths. I groaned, my cum shooting into her. She smiled in delight, shuddering atop me as she started riding my cock.

“It has been so long since I have given a man the Ecstasy,” Azrael moaned in her melodic voice.

Ecstasy, that’s what Karen called it when Gabriel would come upon her and give her a mission. So, Azrael was an angel, then. Now that I had Tiffany’s Gift, I guess the other side had a use for me. Well, fuck that. They had caused me far too much pain and suffering for me to even think about playing ball for them.

“What do you want, angel,” I spat, trying to fight the pleasure.

Azrael laughed. “I am an angel. The Angel of Death, to be specific.”

“You’re a woman, though?” I frowned. “I always thought the Angel of Death was some guy in a black robe.”

“Why would Death be a man?” she asked. “Life comes into this world from a woman, it is only fitting that life should leave this world the same way.”

The pleasure in my cock was growing too much and I groaned as I came inside her again. She just kept right on riding me, her perfect breasts bouncing above me. I wanted to reach out and cup those breasts, feel her hard nipples. Instead, I grabbed the canvas floor of the tent between my fists.

“What do you want?” I demanded.

“It is my job to teach and guide Shamans,” Azrael answered.

“What?”

“A Warlock who has been given the Gift of the Priesthood. You are no longer a Warlock, but you are not quite a Priest. A monk, as they are called these days. You are a Shaman, with both the powers of Paradise and the Abyss.”

“This has happened before?” I asked in surprise.

“Oh, yes,” Azrael answered. “It is rare. There is a way for a Warlock to steal the Gift, of course. And Tiffany was hardly the first Priestess to give her Gift to a Warlock. In fact, the most famous Shaman of all would be King Solomon. When the Queen of Sheba was sent to exorcise him, the foolish woman fell in love with him and gave him her powers. Any questions?”

“Why would you want to help me?” I demanded. “I’m a Warlock. Your side has been attacking me since day one!”

“Perhaps I can temper your wickedness,” Azrael answered, with a smile. “And maybe some good can come from your actions.” She twisted her hips, squeezing her angelic cunt as she slid down my cock and another blast of cum flooded up inside her. “Ohh, I love it when a mortal floods me with his seed. Maybe you’ll quicken a life in my womb!”

“What?” I asked in shock.

She threw back her head, a rich, chiming laughter peeled from her lips. “I can bare no child, relax mortal.”

Could I have kids, now? Mary wanted to have kids but Karen told us a nun couldn’t get pregnant, it was one of the protections they were given. Mary would be crushed if I was sterile, now. “Can I still have kids, now?”

Azrael cocked her head. “Yes. The Priestesses were given that protection because of the nature of their Prayers. Priests, on the other hand, have very different powers. Anything else, or shall we get started on your education?”

“No,” I snapped, anger at her presumption, anger at her invasion of my dreams, boiling up inside me. “I don’t want anything to do with your side. My Chasity is dead because of your nuns!”

“Not my nuns,” Azrael pointed out. “Gabriel’s nuns.”

“I don’t care,” I shouted. My balls were boiling, wanting to cum in the furnace of her cunt again. “Your side can go fuck themselves.”

“Ooh, I’d rather fuck you,” Azrael panted. “Your cock feels so nice inside me.”

I grit my teeth as she rode me faster and faster, trying not to cum again. She arched her back, thrusting those magnificent breasts forward and her cunt began to convulse so pleasantly about my cock as she came. I lost the battle and came one more time in her tight pussy. Gasping for breath, I found myself moaning in disappointment as she rose off my cock.

“Well, if you ever change your mind, Mark, just say my name and we can resume your education.”

“I won’t,” I promised.

Her mocking laugh followed me as I rose to wakefulness.

I was sleeping on a hospital chair, my neck sore, my pants soaked with cum. Mary stirred next to me, shifting her position on her chair. “Master,” a soft voice whispered. I looked up to see Xiu staring at me. I stood up and took her hand and kissed it. She smiled softly, and her eyes closed and she slipped back into sleep.

I won’t use their powers, I promised myself. Desiree almost died the first time they attacked me. Korina was shot and this time Xiu was badly hurt, and plenty of my bodyguards. And Chasity was dead and five of my other bodyguards. Fuck them. Fuck their powers. I would hold onto this Gift, keep it from ever being used for their side again. Deprive them of one of the few tools that remained them.

Mary and I ate breakfast at the hospital. Xiu woke up a second time when we returned and Mary hugged her gently as we told her about the hysterectomy and Chasity’s death. Xiu would be given the choice about staying our sex slave, but only after she was stronger. We checked in on the other bodyguards. 30 died during the night. 04 and 47 were still unconscious. The other eighteen were conscious and eating breakfast. They had suffered a variety of gunshots, some more serious than others. Four were well enough to be discharged this morning, having only taken grazing wounds. They were all happy to see us and we gave them encouragements.

Noon was approaching, and it was time to find out who, if any, of our sex slaves would want to voluntarily stay with us. 51 drove us back to the house. Besides the media, there was a large crowd of people cheering and holding up signs as we drove through. A very large crowd, I realized. There were more than a hundred, covering the shoulder of Shaw Road and spilling into the road. “I worship you,” and “Mark Glassner is God,” and many other signs were on display.

“What the fuck is that about?” I asked Mary, but she looked as confused as I was.

“Sir,” 51 answered. “Your miraculous healing is all over the internet. Some people think you’re a God.”

“Stop the car,” I ordered and I stepped out of the car, prepared to set these people straight.

The crowd, mostly women, fell to their knees and bowed. Their faces shown with rapture and love. “My God!” they shouted. “Bless me!” and “I am yours!” and other shouts rose up. I recognized a few, women that I had fucked over the past few weeks. “Take me!” a woman shouted and bared her breasts at me and I felt my cock hardening.

Their love, their devotion, their worship was so intoxicating. I raised my hands up and they hushed in excited anticipation of what I would say. They were obeying me without me even giving them a command. This was power. I was power. I could do things that no normal person ever could. I was better than them. I could guide them, shape them. Make them better than what had been before. How could I refuse these people.

“What is your commandment, my Lord!” a man shouted.

“Love each other.”

I did not know why that phrase appeared on my lips, but it felt right. A groan went through the crowd and two teenage girls rose up. I smiled, recognizing the Cunningham twins. “It’s as we told you,” the twin with the shorter hair cried. “Mark taught our family to love each other unconditionally.”

Rose grabbed Daisy and the twin girls kissed passionately before the entire crowd. A groan went through the crowd and more people were kissing each other, following the twin girls’ examples. Men kissed women and women kissed women. Mothers kissed daughters and sons kissed mothers. Brothers kissed sisters and daughters kissed fathers.

Mary stepped out of the car and another wave of shouts rose from the crowd, “My Goddess!” and, “The most Beautiful of Women!” shouted from the crowd. I saw the uncertainty melt away from Mary’s face as the crowd chanted her name. A Black woman knelt before her, begging to pleasure her.

Clothing was coming off as the worshipers’ passions increased. Several with instruments begin playing a low, primal beat. Deep drums accompanied by steel-string guitars. Everywhere you looked, people were loving each other, worshiping us with their bodies. Some bowed before us, baring breasts and begging for our blessing.

A mother and her teenage daughter took turns sucking my cock, their tongues running up and down the sides. They both looked so much alike, the same tawny hair, the same delicate cheeks, but the mother had fuller lips and bigger tits, while the daughter had the smooth, fresh skin of youth and tits that seemed to defy gravity.

They kissed each other around the head of my cock, their tongues caressing each other’s as they explored the sensitive flesh of my cock. I gripped both their hairs and moaned as they started taking turns sucking my cock into their mouths. Mary was leaning back against 51’s cop car as the Black woman was devouring her pussy.

I watched her lips as she moaned, her voice drowned out by the worshipers. Her body convulsed as she orgasmed and the Black woman looked so happy when her face came away sticky. Immediately, another worshiper, a Black teenager, grabbed the woman and they kissed and the teen mounted her and started fucking her with his cock. Was it her son? Or was it a complete stranger fucking her?

The mother had her lips about my cock as her daughter sucked my balls into her sweet mouth. I groaned, my balls tightening, and I flooded the mother’s mouth with my cum. She pulled her head away and let my cum splash onto her large breasts and neck. A look of ecstasy painted her face as my spunk ran thickly down her heaving bosom. Her daughter released my balls and scooped up a glob of semen off her mother’s breast and sucked it reverently into her mouth. Other worshipers crowded around, gathering scoops of my cum to eat.

“This is wrong,” Mary whispered after we climbed back into 51’s car, leaving behind the orgy.

“Why?” I asked. “We didn’t make them do anything.”

Mary bit her lip. “They think we’re…”

“Gods?” I asked her, a smile on my lips. “Why not? We have these powers. Didn’t it feel amazing as they all chanted your name?”

A ghost of a smile played on her lips. “It was…”

“Intoxicating?” I finished.

“Yes,” Mary sighed. “We need to be careful, Mark.”

I reached out and stroked her freckled cheek. “Of course we will, Mare.”

I saw the evidence of the firefight all over the neighborhood as 51 pulled up in front of the house. There were boarded-up windows and cars riddled with bullet holes. Red stains dotted the asphalt. Mary clung to my arm as we walked up to the house. We may have been about to lose all our sex slaves, but I was still riding high on the euphoria of the worshipers. There were plenty of women out there, our worshipers, who would be thrilled to be our sluts.

They were all waiting in the dining room. Some wore their chokers and others did not. Well, it seemed that some of them would be staying. Alison and Desiree were holding each other, their chokers tight about their throats. Violet and April both wore their chokers, too, and behind them Lillian lounged fingering her choker. I was happy to see that Korina was wearing her choker, too. She was carrying my child.

“Sam, is there a way to break the bond?” I asked her, then blinked in surprise. There was a woman sitting on Sam’s lap, her hair dyed half-pink and half-blue. They were both dressed in party dresses, Sam in a blue sequined dress and the girl in a gauzy, pink dress.

“Yes.” A yawn spread across her round face. She rubbed her dark, almond eyes. “It’s quite simple. Just touch the person, concentrate on the chain binding the two of you and say Parats. That’s the Hebrew word for ‘to break.’ In fact all the spells are just Hebrew words. It’s quite fascinating.”

“So, I take it you want to be freed?” I asked her before she went off on one of her long-winded explanations.

“Well, you need me,” Sam said. “But, I don’t want to be one of your…sluts. I’ll advise you on magic. Let me be your Vizier. The only payment I want is Candy, here.”

I glanced at Candy. “You want to be hers?”

“She can do magic,” Candy giggled.

“Fine,” I told Sam. “You have to tell us whatever we need to know. You can never tell anyone else what you know. You can ignore any other commands. Candy, you belong to Sam, now. Do whatever she wants.”

Fiona stepped up in front of me, anger on her face, and slapped me. “Bastard,” she snarled. “Free me.”

I grabbed her. I could keep her, make her love me again. Make her pay for slapping me. I saw Mary staring at me, the slight, warning shake of her head. No. Mary was right, it was better that they wanted to be ours. I focused on the chains binding the two of us and said, “Parats.” We flinched, as if we were both tugging on a rope that snapped, and we stumbled back.

“I’m free,” she whispered, half in astonishment, half in joy. And then she was sweeping out of the room, her strawberry-blonde hair flowing behind her.

Noel was stoic silence when I released her, Thamina was icy calm, modestly clad in a long skirt and headscarf. Willow walked up and I grabbed her, going to release her, too, when she shook her head. “Like Sam, I think we can come to an understanding.”

“What?” Mary asked.

“I’ll run your charity,” Willow smiled. “Let me choose the staff and I’ll be more than happy to run the clinic. Just let me…play, with the girls.”

“Done,” I told her, with a smile. “Install some cameras, though.”

Willow laughed. “Sure.”

“And the rest of you want to be our sex slaves?”

“Yes!” Alison answered, excitedly. “Desiree, too.”

Desiree nodded. “Alison convinced me.”

Jessica walked towards us, her choker about her neck. “You’re the most powerful people in the world. I want to be a part of that.”

“I don’t want to go back to my mom,” Violet whispered. April gripped her hand and smiled at me and happily said, “I love you both.”

“You’re too much fun, Master,” Lillian said with a sultry laugh. “And Mistress is just to die for.”

Korina walked over and stood next to Jessica, her hand rubbing her belly. “I love you, Master. I’m having your baby. And I love you, too, Mistress.”

“Then you’re our sex slaves,” I ordered. “You’ll do whatever Mary or I tell you, no matter how depraved or filthy the command is.”

The seven sluts knelt before us, smiling up at us. “We are yours,” they said in unison, love shining in their eyes. “Forever.”

And, as the sluts enveloped Mary and me in a press of delightful female flesh, I thought I heard a chiming voice whisper, “Progress.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What can I do for you,” Professor Scrivener asked as I knocked at his door.

I was at the Department of Hebrew and Semitic Studies, University of Wisconsin-Madison, the Magicks of the Witch of Endor clutched in my hands. After taking the book from the Altgrave, I did my research and Professor Scrivener was a leading expert in the translation of ancient Semitic writings. He was a man in his fifties, black hair going gray, with deep, green eyes peering at me from behind horned-rim glasses. His office was small, cluttered with books and papers and I squeezed past the door and stepped carefully to his desk.

“Brandon Fitzsimmons,” I said as he shook my hand. He had a strong grip, I was surprised to discover, crushing my hand as he smiled politely at me.

“What can I do for you, Brandon?” he asked impatiently.

I handed him the book. He took it, glancing at the cover and opened it up. “Hmm, Aramaic.”

“I’ll pay you $300,000 dollars to translate the book,” I told him. “$100,000 up front and the other $200,000 on completion.”

His eyes bugged out in surprise. “Is this a joke?”

I pulled out the cashiers check made out for $100,000 dollars. It was the bulk of my money. I was hoping greed would blind the man from asking too many questions and his hands shook as he looked at the check. But, if the book contained what I hoped it would, $100,000 would be a pittance. And once he finished translating the book, well, I could find a different way to reward him. “Show this to no-one. I need complete discretion on your part. And I need it as soon as possible. I will call once a week to check on your progress. And no questions, okay?”

He licked his lips, nervous, then glanced down at the check. I could see the questions whirling in his mind, the doubts and whispers of caution. But there was that glint of avarice in his eyes as he kept glancing at the check. He wiped his sweaty palm on the leg of his brown slacks. Sweat was beading on his forehead. He glanced up at me, staring at me intently, his green eyes peering into my brown eyes. His hand shook as he folded up the check and slipped it into his pocket.

“Okay. We have a deal, Brandon.”

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 33.