Tag Archives: Magic

Story contains magic or magical beings

The Devil’s Pact Chapter 43: The Hidden Place

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Chapter 43: The Hidden Place

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2013, 2014


Story Codes: Female/Female, Male/Female, Hermaphrodite/Female, Mind Control, Magic, Massage, Incest, Pregnant, Wedded Lust, Ass to Mouth, Anal Sex, Oral Sex

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

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



Click here for Chapter 42.



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

–The Gospel of April 41:51-52

Friday, November 8th, 2013 – Mark Glassner – Tacoma, WA

The door to the Matmown clanged shut.

It was cold in the room, the metal walls and floor icy to the touch. A table – cheap, the kind that could fold up and you’d see in a hotel’s convention hall – sat in the center. I sat at the head, and Mary sat across from me. All the sluts: Alison, Desiree, Violet, April, Jessica, Lillian, Xiu, and Korina, along with Willow, Sam, and Candy, took their seats. The people I most trusted. My wife, our sluts, our doctor, and our Vizier and her assistant.

My family. We were a strange group, but I loved them all, though I loved one far more than the others.

There was no electricity inside the Matmown, there could be no holes in the walls to run a wire. It would break the containment. The only opening was the door, designed to seal shut and be impregnable from the outside. Sam thought of everything: floor lamps, enchanted to glow without power, stood in the room’s corners; space heaters struggled to lessen the chill; and the chairs had built in seat warmers.

I don’t understand how she does it, her explanations always went over my head.

“Okay Mary, what have you been holding back?” I asked my wife, eager to finally find out her big secret. The last six weeks had been almost unbearable at times.

Mary took a deep breath. “Mark, we have started something terrible.”

Terrible? I knew Mary had some guilt over the way we treated people in the beginning. But terrible was a little much. “What do you mean?”

“Lucifer and the other demons are trapped in the Abyss, but their prison is weakening. Because of us.” I could see guilt in her emerald eyes. “As more and more people worship us as gods, the prison grows weaker. Maryām told me that you would kill Lilith, and that would be the final straw. Lucifer would be free.” She looked at me, her eyes pleading. “Free to wreak havoc on this world. Because of us. And it won’t just be the Devil. All the demons will be unleashed.

I could see looks of stunned disbelief on the sluts’ faces. They didn’t want to believe their masters would cause such a problem. Hell, I didn’t believe we could cause such a problem. “Are you saying that I’m causing the end of the world?”

“We are,” Mary corrected. “I’m just as culpable, Mark. You may have led, but I’ve willingly followed you.”

“Then why are we making people worship us?” I asked her. “And trying to rule the world, Mare? Shouldn’t we be telling people to stop worshiping us?” Could I really give that up though. That wonderful high as a thousand people cry out your name in worship?

“Maryām told me that the prison was weak enough. Getting more people to worship us isn’t going to change that? But if we unite the world, we might have the power to challenge the demons if they get out.” She swallowed. “And a confrontation with Lilith is inevitable.”

“It is interesting that killing Lilith is the trigger,” Sam said.

“What?” I asked her.

“Well, she was the first woman created, made of the dust of the earth just like Adam,” Sam explained. “She was the first Warlock. The first human soul condemned to the Abyss. She grew powerful after all those millennia imprisoned. Her death, her blood, would be very powerful. She is a mix of both worlds now.”

“So we don’t kill Lilith,” Violet said. “If she lives, Lucifer cannot be summoned.”

“That’s great!” Xiu exclaimed, her heavy tits jiggling. “We just have to capture her.”

It couldn’t be that simple, right?

“Capture Lilith?” Lillian snorted with derision. “Yeah, that’ll be easy.”

Violet blushed and looked down. Mary glared at Lillian. “You don’t need to talk to your fellow slut that way,” my wife snapped. “Tonight, you will report to me for your spanking.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Lillian answered, looking contrite, but a small smile played on her lips. Xiu wasn’t the only slut that enjoyed Mary’s spankings. “I’m sorry, Violet. Do you still love me?”

Violet rolled her eyes as Lillian fluttered her eyelashes at her. “I do.”

“So, how do we capture her?” Willow asked.

“Isn’t that what the Legion is for?” Jessica asked. “We know she’s in Seattle. Let’s send in the troops. They’re supposed to be gifted with certain advantages in fighting monsters because of the Ragily bond.”

“But what if something goes wrong,” Mary objected. “What if she accidentally gets killed?”

“Do we have an alternative, mi Reina?”

“No,” Mary stated. “But the Mother Superior hinted that there was a way to trap Lucifer when he first crosses over. She said the answer lies in Qumran.”

“What’s Kumrum?” April asked. “It sounds like a drink.”

“A dirty drink,” Lillian giggled. “Cum-rum. Mmh, sounds delicious!” Lillian threw her arm around April’s shoulder. “Me, you, and your cute girlfriend should find a hunky guy and give it try.”

April flushed, glancing at Violet, who shifted nervously. April has a girlfriend? Who was she? “We’re pregnant, Lillian,” April pointed out.

“Right,” Lillian sheepishly grinned. “So I’ll enjoy the rum and you can enjoy the cum!”

“Sure,” April sighed.

“We’ll have so much fun!” Lillian declared.

“Khirbet Qumran,” Sam interrupted testily, “is a series of caves in the West Bank where the dead sea scrolls were found. Many of the texts predate the New Testament and not all have been released to the public. The traditional view is that they were penned and stored by the Essenes, who…”

“Yeah, that’s what the Mother Superior said,” Mary interrupted before Sam could get into one of her long lectures. “The Creator safeguarded the knowledge at Qumran.”

Candy sighed and looked at Sam. “I guess we have more traveling to do. Hopefully, no monster will try and eat us this time!” There was a bitter, almost accusatory tone to her voice; Sam shot her a warning look.

“We’ll send you some protection,” I reassured her. We should have given them a few of the bodyguards on their first mission, but Mary thought keeping it low-key would let them fly under the radar. “It’ll take a few days to arrange things with the Israelis. Right, that’s where Qumran is?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, the West Bank. Though the scrolls are housed at the Museum of Jerusalem in a specially created…”

“So we need to capture Lilith, and quickly,” I said, heading off her long-winded explanation. “Hell, if we can capture her and lock her up somewhere, we can avoid the entire problem.”

“It’s bold, I like it,” Alison smiled. “She killed Karen, I say we lock the bitch up in a tiny cell for the rest of her life!”

“You could pierce her nipples, attach a leash to the piercings, and walk her like a dog,” Xiu sighed, tugging at her own nipple piercings. I had a feeling that’s something Xiu would like.

“That’s how you broke Karen, Master,” Korina nodded. “Shove that dog-tailed butt plug up her ass, and treat her like the bitch she is!”

“That would be very satisfying to see, mi Rey!”

“I would love to watch Mistress spank her bottom,” Jessica added. “I love watching you paddle a naughty slut’s ass and make it glow red.”

“Make that ass black and blue,” Lillian laughed. “Don’t go easy on her! And we should piss on her! Make her sleep in the puddle like the piece of filth she is!”

“No! We should tie her up and let the entire Legion fuck her cunt!” Violet declared with more force than I’ve ever heard the shy girl use. “She hates men; I say, let every man in the world fuck her! For Karen!”

Tears glistened on Violet’s face and everyone fell silent, remembering our short time with Karen. April reached over and grabbed Violet’s hand, giving her a comforting squeeze. Once Karen had submitted to us, she had been a perfect, loving slut. And it was my fault she was dead. I didn’t hesitate to give her to Lilith.

I learned the hard way to never trust a demon. My hand hurt, and I unclenched my fist to see bloody nail marks in my palm. One day, I would make Lilith pay for Karen.

“It’s risky, Mark,” Mary said, breaking the silence.

“Well, it needs to be done. She’s already sent the Dimme to kill me and the Alukah to kill Sam. She needs to be dealt with.” Fear gripped me; what if she sends her next monster after you, Mary? I couldn’t risk that. Lilith had to be neutralized.

“Seattle is her base of support,” Willow said. “What if we took that away from her?”

“I bet that Lamia woman we’ve seen with the Mayor of Seattle is her,” Jessica interjected. “Think about it; he’s gay and then this absolutely gorgeous woman appears, and he falls for her. I feel like this is Lilith.”

“We definitely need the Legion,” Korina said. “Master, you are powerful, but you’ll need soldiers to occupy the city.”

“Aren’t we moving too quickly?” Mary objected. “We haven’t learned how to deal with Lucifer if something goes wrong.”

“That could take a while,” Sam responded. “I mean, there is a lot of material found at Qumran. Some of it hasn’t even been made public. It could take me months to sift through it.”

“Then we should wait months,” Mary concluded.

I frowned at my wife. “But Lilith is already causing problems. We need to go into Seattle, and at least find where she’s keeping those monstrous daughters of hers.”

“How, Master?” Jessica asked. “We summoned Karen, and she couldn’t help us. Lilith has her location warded somehow.”

Xiu snapped her fingers; realization had a smile playing on her lips. “I bet the answers are in city hall. She needs to control the mayor for some reason. I bet there are city records that could point to where they’re hiding. They probably need a big building.”

“Of course. The City owns hundreds of buildings.” Jessica’s caramel face shown with excitement.

“Right!” April exclaimed. “And the government keeps records on everything!”

“Let’s send the Legion in and flush the bitch out!” Alison exclaimed. “She tried to kill Master.”

Next to Alison, Desiree pounded her fist on the table. “Let’s exterminate her entire verminous brood.”

“Sounds great, I say we do that.” I looked at my wife. “We’ll capture Lilith, and put down her foul children.”

“It’s too risky,” Mary objected, heat in her voice. “You’re being brash, Mark. The stakes are too high to afford a mistake.”

“We’ll be careful,” I told her, taken aback by her objections. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I trust you, it’s just…” she trailed-off, a helpless look on her face.

“You just don’t think I can do this?” A bitter feeling spread through my stomach.

“It just too important to take chances. Please Mark, reconsider.”

“She tried to kill me,” I pointed out, my anger bubbling back up. Why couldn’t she see how simple this was? “She killed Karen, and you just want to let her live. Don’t you care?”

She slammed her hand down on the table and glared at me. “Of course I care! I loved Karen just as much as you did! She was ours, and that bitch took her away! But the World, Mark. All those lives. What if something goes wrong?”

“That’s why we’ll be careful. But we have to do this. She’s growing too powerful. It may be too hard to dislodge her in a few months.”

“I say we wait,” Mary stubbornly said. “It’s stupid to rush this.”

“So I’m being stupid?” I demanded, frustrated with my wife. Why was she being so blind? Lilith needed to be neutralized as soon as possible.

“I didn’t say that, Mark,” she spat. “But you’re being a pigheaded fool!”

I grit my teeth. “Now what?”

“Let’s vote,” she declared. “Everyone give your honest opinion. Who says we wait?”

Jessica quickly shot her hand up, and gave me a guilty glance. Sam and Willow’s hands joined her. Sam looked at Candy and gaped that her toy had a different opinion. “That Alukah almost killed us both,” Candy answered. “I’m with Alison and Desiree! Let’s capture the bitch and piss on her and stuff her in a cage!” Violet chewed on her lip, glancing back and forth between Mary and me, then raised her hand, not looking at me.

Counting Mary, five wanted to wait. The remaining eight of us wanted to attack. “I guess I’m not the only pigheaded fool here, Mary,” I retorted. I knew it was going too far as soon as I said it; Mary flinched in hurt anger.

“Fine,” she said flatly, tossed her auburn hair and stalked away. “It’s only the World!”

“Wait, Mistress,” Jessica said, and followed Mary out the door.

Everyone else sat with stunned silence. I knew I should go after her. I really should. Frustration and exhaustion seethed within me though. “Close the door,” I barked. Xiu scurried to close the door and sat down.

“We…um… should get General Brooks in here,” Xiu suggested uncomfortably. General Brooks commanded the Legion, the 10,000 soldiers bound to me by the Ragily prayer.

I nodded my head. “This afternoon. Is there anything else?”

Sam shifted in her seat. “Well, um, there is the matter of tracking Warlocks. But, maybe we should wait on Mary?”

“No,” I said, still seething. I really should go after her and apologize. Even if I was right.

Candy pulled a few items from a bag: a map of the USA that she spread over the table, a few small weights to keep the map unfurled, and a plumb bob, a pointed weight dangling from a white string. She held it above the map by the end of the string, the pointed weight swaying lazily. She flicked her wrist, and sent the plumb bob spinning at the end of the string, the metal point hovering just above the map as it swung in a circle.

“Candy is concentrating on Warlocks,” Sam explained. “The bob is enchanted with a divining spell.” Suddenly Candy let go of the bob and it stuck into the map of the US right on the city of Paris, Texas. “See, she’s detected the Ghost of Paris,” Sam explained. Candy took up the plumb bob and sent it spinning again. “This is an old dowsing technique to find water and wells. I modified it to detect the resonance of a Warlock’s soul. As you know, souls have different resonances, which you and Mary perceive as colors. Silver for a normal person, Gold for a Nun, Black for a Thrall, Red for a Warlock, etc.”

The plumb bob came down in Philadelphia. Then St. Paul, San Francisco, Tulsa, Sioux Falls, Charleston, Tallahassee, El Paso, Memphis. Dozens more cities. And not just in the US. Sometimes the bob fell in Canada or Mexico. Once it fell on Cuba.

“We need to do something about this,” I said in stunned horror. She kept finding more and more, Violet writing each down on a notepad. And this was just North America.

“Let me and Desiree take care of this, Master,” Alison volunteered. “Give us a couple of platoons of special forces from the Legion and we’ll start hunting them down. Most can’t be that dangerous. We’ll call for Mistress if they have people bound with the Zimmah spell.”

“Please, mi Rey?” There was anger and pain in Desiree’s brown eyes. “We need to do this. Warlocks are filthy beasts that need to be put down.”

Alison nodded vigorously. “We’ll make them all pay, Master!”

I chewed my lip. Mary should be present for the decision. I almost said yes anyways, but my anger had faded enough. “I’ll discuss it with Mary.”

“Thank you, mi Rey,” Desiree said, hatred shining in her eyes. Ever since Brandon had raped her, she’s had a fierce hatred of Warlocks, and Alison seemed to burn with an even more intense fury than her wife.

“Let’s call it a wrap,” I yawned. “I think we all could use some sleep.”

Upstairs, the bodyguards wouldn’t let me into my suite. “Mistress said not to,” she apologized.

“Out of the way,” I ordered and they froze. Conflicting orders would do that. I sighed and rescinded my command.

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

Mary Glassner

I was furious at Mark.

It was bad enough that he wouldn’t listen to sense, but to taunt me at the end? I wanted to scream in frustration. Couldn’t he see how dangerous this was? The World was at stake! We had to go slow! We had to be careful! I stalked to the elevator, and jabbed the up button.

“Come on!” I snarled at the elevator, mashing the button in the vain hope that it would make the damned thing move faster.

“Mistress,” Jessica said as she stepped up next to me.

“What?” I wearily asked. On top of my anger, I was tired. I only had a few hours of sleep, and spending all day healing was exhausting.

“You look tense, Mistress. I could give you a massage.”

I glanced at Jessica, a caring smile on her caramel face. I reached out and stroked her honey-brown hair. She was so beautiful, exotic. Her mix of racial heritage gave her such unusual features. “I think I’d like that.”

We rode up the elevator in silence and I gazed at her. She was naked. Well, almost naked. She wore a gold choker with her name written with sapphires. Her breasts were small, full, with brown nipples. My eyes followed the line of her side down to her shapely hips, smooth thighs, and gorgeous calves.

The elevator dinged; we had reached the top floor where our suite was. Two bodyguards saluted me. “Do not let Mark in,” I ordered them. “He’s in the doghouse.”

“I…um…yes, ma’am,” the Black bodyguard stammered.

They opened the door to the suite. I led Jessica through the main room, to our bedroom. Once inside, I stretched, walked to my dresser, and opened my jewelry box. I took off my silver locket, diamond stud earrings, and a ruby bracelet, leaving only my bronze amulet and wedding ring on. Jessica unzipped my dress and I let it fall to the floor. I looked down at my belly, and stroked my baby bump; my mood improved a bit thinking about my unborn child.

“Shall I start, Mistress?” Jessica asked, returning from the bathroom with a bottle of baby oil in her hand.

“Hmm?” I asked, frowning at her. “Oh, right, the massage.”

Yawning, I walked to the bed and laid down on my belly. The mattress dipped as Jessica crawled onto it. She straddled my legs, right below my butt. I jumped and shrieked as the cold baby oil dripped onto my back.

“Sorry, Mistress.”

“It’s okay,” I muttered.

Her fingers kneaded the muscles of my neck and shoulders, driving the tension away with her gentle, yet firm, pressure. I sighed, closing my eyes and enjoying her touch. Her thumbs pressed into the my flesh, moving in slow circles, driving all the anger at Mark away, and I let myself drift into contentment.

She worked lower and lower, hands flanking my spine. Her body shifted down my legs as she worked closer to my buttocks. Her hair tickled as it brushed my plump butt as her fingers rubbed the strain out of my lower back—the pregnancy was starting to give me backaches. Her lips were cool as she placed a kiss on my right butt-cheek before her oily hands slid down and gave each globe a good squeeze. Her fingers dipped into my crack, brushing my asshole and teasing me under the guise of her massage.

With firm pressure, she rubbed down my right leg, working my thigh and calf. Lifting my foot up, her tongue teased my toes and shivers of pleasure ran up my leg to moisten my pussy. My breath quickened, and soft sighs escaped my lips as her tongue explored my toes and her fingers massaged my foot.

After repeating her wonderful service on my left leg, she told me to roll over. I could see the desire in her deep, brown eyes. “So beautiful,” she whispered, running her hand across my pregnant stomach, between my breasts, and up to my neck. Her hair brushed my cheek as she knelt above me, her breasts hanging down, her nipples inches from brushing my flesh.

Her kiss was gentle at first, lightly nibbling on my lower lip. I turned my head, sliding my tongue out to brush her lips, to taste her sweetness. As my tongue invaded her mouth, our lust grew, and Jessica settled her weight upon me. Our nipples kissed, two hard nubs striking against each other like flint on steel, and sparks of pleasure ignited the passion inside me. I wasn’t so pregnant that I had to worry about someone being on top of me. My hands stroked her back, down to her firm ass, pulling her between my spread legs, until our pussies touched and electricity sparked between us.

Her ass flexed beneath my hands, pushing her clit up through my slit and nudging my pearl. Again and again her ass flexed; every kiss of her clit on mine brought a burst of passion inside me. Her fingers stroked my cheeks as she kissed me harder, fiercer. Our hips found a rhythm, fucking each other slowly, savoring the pleasure.

I had to be on top. I held her tightly, and rolled us over. Her thighs parted and I settled my cunt against hers. Sitting up on my elbows, our nipples just brushing, I writhed my hips, driving my clit through her pussy. A moan, low and throaty, escaped her lips. Her hands rubbed up and down my back and sides, trailing fire wherever she touched.

“Yes,” she purred. “Pleasure me, Mistress! Your beautiful pussy feels like wet silk!”

My hips moved faster. Memories of the afternoon when I had a cock flooded my mind. This would feel so much better if I had dick; a hard shaft plunging in and out of her velvet-wet cunt. That glorious ache, that need to spill my seed, building in my loins. I loved being a woman, I loved the powerful, encompassing orgasms that filled my entire groin. But that urgent need of a man, the way all the pleasure built up at one point—the head of your cock. Building and building until it erupted out of you had been a wonderful feeling. I understood just how desperate a guy could get to fuck a woman.

“Fuck me!” Jessica panted. “Yes, yes! I love it! Make me cum, Mistress!”

I could do it. I just had to bring us both to orgasm while tribbing her. I just had to utter Shophkah as we both shudder in ecstasy. I would gain my very own cock I could summon or dismiss at will.

What about Mark?

I rubbed faster against Jessica. I burned to have a cock. I didn’t care if he would find it disgusting, find me disgusting. I needed to have it. I really ground into her, ignoring the objecting voice in my mind. After Mark’s petty comment, it would serve him right. The anger fueled my hips; I growled like an animal, slamming my cunt into hers, not caring if I was bruising her, bruising me. I had to cum, I had to have my cock.

Mare, I’m sorry, Mark’s thought suddenly filled my mind.

I ignored him, and kept tribbing Jessica. I was almost there, almost to the pinnacle of my passion. “Cum with me,” I growled like a hungry tiger at Jessica. “Cum my little slut! I want to feel your cunt flooding me with your passion.”

It was stupid of me to taunt you. I was just frustrated. It seemed so clear what we should do and I was surprised you didn’t see it! C’mon, talk to me.

I was about to cum, about to have my cock. Jessica convulsed beneath me, her orgasm writhing through her. I drew my clit back, rubbed it up her slit, up to her little button. I nudged our pearls together, and the passion exploded throughout my body.

I opened my mouth to say that one word that would change everything.

I love you, Mare. I could feel the depth of his love, the depth of his guilt, in his thought.

I couldn’t jeopardize that just for the thrill of having a cock.

I collapsed atop Jessica, shaking as my orgasm quaked through me. Breathing heavily, I rolled off of her, staring up at the ceiling. God, what did I almost do? Is this why Lilith told us about the Magicks of the Witch of Endor? One last trap? One last temptation for me?

Let’s talk, I sent back. I’m in our bedroom.

The…um…guards won’t let me in. I don’t want to, you know, hurt them.

Jessica glanced at me with a contented smile on her face. “Mark’s outside the suite; tell the bodyguards to let him in, then you can go.”

“At once, Mistress.”

Mark entered the room looking as contrite as a young boy about to be scolded. He walked over to the bed and knelt down, grasping my arm. I almost pulled away from him; I was still just a little angry at him.

“I shouldn’t have snapped at you or taunted you,” Mark admitted. “Lilith scares me. I’m afraid she’s going to hurt you. I couldn’t bear that.” There were tears in his eyes. “I would do anything to protect you, risk anything.”

My heart softened; I grasped his face, pulled him down, and kissed him. “I forgive you.”

He relaxed, tension melting out of his shoulders and face, and I pulled him up into bed with me; we hugged. “I really think we need to neutralize her power. And kill her daughters. I’m not sure we can wait that long.”

He was right. I sighed, “I know.”

“We’ll be careful, move slowly. Take no risks.”

“We shouldn’t be talking about this here,” I reminded him. I snuggled closer to him. I opened my mouth, wanting to tell him about my desire, then snapped it shut. I could still remember the disgust in his eyes the first time he saw Lilith conjure her cock, and the relief he felt when I lied and said I wasn’t interested.

“What?” he asked, a little wary.

“Nothing,” I sighed.

He pressed, stroking my cheek. “What, Mare?”

I bit my lip, took a deep breath. “I was thinking about the day Lilith gave me a cock.”

Mark stiffened for a moment. “Okay,” he carefully said. I could feel the tension ratcheting his body tight.

“Sometimes…” I took a deep breath. “Sometimes I think about having one again.”

He looked at me, his mind whirling. “I…I don’t know what to say.”

“It would make you uncomfortable, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he admitted. “It’s kinda hot watching Sam, but…”

“It’s weird.”

He nodded. “If it’s something you really want… I guess I could adjust.”

I smiled at him. “No, it’s not something I really want. I just think about it sometimes.”

He relaxed. “I would still love you,” he whispered. “Nothing could change that.”

But would you still desire me? I didn’t want to find out. “Kiss me,” I told him, my hand reaching down to stroke his cock.

He hesitated until my thumb brushed the head of his cock, and then his lips glued to mine and I lost myself in the the feel of his lips, the scratch of his whiskers, his musk. Why ruin this? I threw my arms around his neck, pulling him on top of me. I may have wanted to be on top when tribbing Jessica, but it was so much more pleasant to be on the bottom to get fucked by Mark, feeling his comforting weight on top of me.

I would have to enjoy this as much as possible. Once my belly grew too big, we’d have to find other positions to use to make love.

My legs parted, and I guided him into me. Glorious pleasure coursed through me as his cock sank into my wet depths. My nipples rubbed on his muscular chest as he gently made love to me. His cock drove away my dark fantasy as it pumped inside me. How could I want my own dick when I enjoyed Mark’s filling me up so damned much?

I slid a hand down to his ass, gave him a squeeze. My husband picked up the pace. My hips rotated, driving up to meet his thrusts. His hand caressed my thigh, moving up to brush my baby bump, then I sighed as he found my breast; his fingers tenderly played with my nipple. The pleasure radiated out, mingled with the fire burning in my cunt.

My orgasm was long, gentle, and I shuddered as my husband kept spearing me. I moaned into his lips, and savored the power of his thrusts. His strokes grew harder, churning me up as his pleasure mounted. I couldn’t wait to feel his cum filling me. Another orgasm quickly built within me as my clit mashed into his groin, sparking pleasure throughout my body.

His butt flexed beneath my hand as I inched my fingers down his crack. I found his asshole, teased it gently. His thrusts grew more urgent as I slipped a finger inside his ass, questing for his prostrate. I found it, massaged, and Mark slammed hard into my cunt, his body going rigid above me; I reveled in that fantastic feeling of his cum squirting into me. My pussy clamped down on his cock as my second orgasm exploded hard through me.

“Umm, that was delicious,” I purred, nuzzling his neck.

“I love you,” he whispered, rolling off me.

I smiled, snuggling into him. “Will you hold me while I sleep? I don’t want to have any nightmares, my love.” I placed my head on his chest, taking comfort from his heartbeat, his breathing.

His strong arms wrapped around me, holding me, protecting me.

Loving me.

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

Monday, November 11th, 2013 – Mark Glassner – Tacoma, WA

It was eerie watching Predator drone footage of Seattle. It was IR, white on black, and all the people seemed black smears against bright streets. A green box was centered on one woman – Lamia, who appeared to be controlling the Mayor of Seattle, Craig Erikson, for the last two months – walking into a dilapidated warehouse in the industrial part of Seattle near the port.

To think finding Lilith would be so simple. The warehouse was warded with spells, and Lamia took a circuitous route to it, checking carefully for tails. All it took to follow her was a remotely piloted aircraft orbiting high above Seattle, almost impossible to spot with the naked eye. It didn’t matter how careful she was, the drone had her in its sight, the software on board capable of recognizing her face and tracking her across the entire city.

Lamia, a beautiful, otherworldly beauty. We were pretty sure she was Lilith.

“We’ve seen her go to this warehouse twice, my Lord,” Colonel Abbey, the G3, or operations officer, for the Legion stated. “We’ve parked a drone over the warehouse, and women have been streaming in and out of it all weekend. There are sentries posted on the roof, and others guarding the entrances. We didn’t see any weapons in evidence.”

“They’ll be Lilith’s daughters,” Sam supplied. “They are weapons. All of them will be extremely dangerous. Even with the Legion’s blessings from Mark, your men will have a tough battle.”

“My men can handle it,” General Brooks, the commander of my Legion, stated with confidence.

We were all seated in the Matmown. Mary and I, our sluts and advisers, and General Brooks and his staff, watching a TV that had been set up. Because the room was made of iron, radio signals inside here were spotty at best. No wires could be run through the walls for fear of compromising the integrity of the room, so we couldn’t watch any live Predator drone feeds. The TV itself was powered off a ‘Baghdad Battery’ as Sam dubbed her latest invention she had created over the weekend. It put out the power of a small generator, without filling the room up with carbon monoxide and killing us all.

It was also a lot quieter than a generator. Which was a blessing given that we were in an iron box.

“Is your plan ready, General?” I asked.

“Yes, my Lord. Colonel.” The General motioned to Abbey.

Colonel Abbey rolled out a map, quickly unfurling it. He placed weights on the corners to hold it down. It was a detailed map of King County, and there were numerous markings and lines drawn around the city of Seattle that seemed to indicate troop movements. And ship movements. There were markings in the Puget Sound and Lake Washington. The City of Seattle sat on an isthmus with Puget Sound and Elliot Bay on its west side and Lake Washington on its east side.

He ran through the plan in a few minutes. It was really simple. Units would be deployed to cut off Seattle along Highway 405 in the south and Highway 104 in the north. Other units would guard the two floating bridges that crossed Lake Washington while the Navy would blockade the Port of Seattle. Other units would occupy the city itself, taking key points: the Mayor’s house, City Hall, Seattle P.D. precincts, and the warehouse.

“Make sure your men know whom they’re shooting at,” I ordered. “Lilith must not be killed. Any extraordinarily beautiful women should be captured, no matter the cost.”

“Of course, my Lord,” Colonel Abbey nodded.

I glanced at Mary; I could tell she still wasn’t happy about attacking so early, but she nodded her head. “How soon can we attack? Tonight?” I asked.

“We’re ready for that, my Lord,” General Brook answered.

“Won’t Lilith spot the troops getting ready?” Jessica asked.

“We’ve been doing training operations,” Colonel Abbey responded, “to mask our readiness preparations. The planning itself was done in the HP, and our officers will be briefed this afternoon in it.”

“HP?” I asked.

“It’s what the military call a Matmown. You know, ‘hidden place’, HP.” Sam explained. When building the Matmown in our hotel room, Sam had duplicate metal panels made, just in case. The extras were used to assemble one at I Corp headquarters on JBLM.

A smile creased General Brooks grizzled face. “We do love our acronyms.”

“Who is going to govern Seattle once Mayor Erikson is removed?” Xiu asked.

“Someone we can trust,” I put in.

“How about Jessica,” Korina suggested. “She knows Seattle, and has contacts from her days as a reporter.”

Lillian grinned. “She’s the best slut for the job.”

“I’ll do it, Master,” Jessica nodded.

I looked at her. “You sure? It will be dangerous.”

“Korina is right, I do know the city.”

“Give her a group of soldiers to guard her,” Mary said.

“A platoon of Rangers?” Colonel Abbey suggested.

“Do it,” Mary commanded.

I looked at Sam. “Is your trip all arranged?”

“Yeah, the Prime Ministers of Israel has been very helpful in arranging things with the Museum of Jerusalem. Candy and I’ll leave tomorrow around noon.”

“With that platoon of soldiers you promised,” Candy interjected.

I nodded. “It’s all taken care of.”

“Is there any other business?” Mary asked.

“Yes, Mistress,” Alison interjected. “Desiree and I have selected our first Warlocks to track down.”

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

Tuesday, November 12th, 2013 – Lilith – Seattle, WA

The damned soldiers were continuing their exercises past midnight.

I watched the bustle of activity at Joint Base Lewis-McChord, hoping to find some clue to Mark and Mary’s plan. They spent the weekend doing drills. And spent all day today showing no sign of stopping. Their damned military was always training! How could I tell if they were mobilizing to attack me, or doing another stupid exercise?

This was pointless! No army could attack at night! So I gave up watching for the day and retired to my body. I was stiff when I returned to myself. I had spent hours in the Shadows watching today, and my body protested at the inactivity. I stretched, pushing away from my desk, and walked out of my office in the warehouse.

At least Mark couldn’t know about this place. It was carefully prepared with spells to keep out his ghosts. The protections weren’t as powerful as a Matmown, but they would keep Mark from using necromancy to find us.

“My Goddess,” Chantelle yawned, rubbing her eyes as she stood up from the secretary’s chair.

“Has Lamia returned?” I asked. Lamia was my favorite daughter, the most beautiful and enchanting of all of them.

“Yes, my Goddess,” Chantelle murmured. “She awaits in your bedchamber.”

“And that foolish man is being watched?” I could see the hint of annoyance in Chantelle’s eyes. I asked this question every time Lamia was away from the mayor of Seattle. I didn’t want any sloppy mistakes.

“Fiona is watching him, my Goddess.”

“Good, good, you may retire for the night.”

Chantelle bowed, smiling. “Thank you.”

“I’m sure your wife will take care of that,” I said as I swept past. I could smell Chantelle’s lust, and feel her cock harden as she summoned it.

I walked through the halls; even this late at night it bustled with activity. My daughters bowed to me: Lani, barely visible as she crouched in the shadowed corner; Basu’s forked tongue flickering out with affection; Agas, her left eye bulging yellow; the air about Haka alive with static energy; gaunt Vera, who looked on death’s door; beautiful Jeh, almost as beautiful as Lamia, almost; Tir’s tawny hair, nestled with black, vulture feathers; and many more. Their mothers fell to their knees as I passed. I paid them no heed. They birthed my children; I had no further use for most of them.

Young Crystal, the daughter of Babylon, knelt before my bedroom door. She was my chambermaid for the night, and she carefully removed all my jewelry, then gently undressed me, and finally combed my silvery hair. All the while, Lamia stretched out in my bed, her ripe breasts rising from her supine form. She toyed with her purple hair, her legs parted just enough to hint at the promise of her pussy—teasing me.

I rose, summoning my cock and Lamia’s eyes fell hungrily on it. “Umm, is that for me, Mother?”

It was my reward, how I controlled my daughters. They knew the ecstasy of my touch awaited them from the moment they were born—so long as they pleased me. And they would do anything to experience my embrace. They were as faithful as my other daughters, drowned Eons ago when the the Creator unleashed his Flood. So much death, to wipe my progeny from the earth.

Lamia shuddered as I brushed her nipple with a finger. “Fuck me!” she begged. “I burn for you, Mother! Fuck me!”

I bent down and captured her nipple, sucking on it, and let my Lust ooze into her body. She bucked and writhed as orgasm after mind-numbing orgasm rolled through her. She was incoherent as I mounted her, and drove my cock into the ripe depths of her cunt. She felt wonderful. Lamia almost had my ecstatic touch, and her pussy felt divine, like heaven, on my hard cock.

Her cunt rippled on my cock as I savored her passion. I bent down, our round breasts touching, and I captured my daughter’s mouth in a sweet kiss. Lamia hugged me, raked her fingers down my back, the pain urging me to fuck her harder. She never stopped cumming. Her cunt was delight made flesh, my cock reveling in her moist depths.

I rose up, pulling her legs up and hooking her ankles over my shoulder. I pounded her hard, my breasts rising up and down. My ovaries frothed with passion, bursting with my seed. I slammed in again and again, watching my daughter’s breasts heave with her never-ending orgasm. One more time, and then that explosive release; my cum flooded her infertile womb.

“Mother,” Lamia finally gasped as I pulled out of her.

I was still hard. I rolled her over, spreading the cheeks of her ass. She was tight and rough and screamed her pleasure as I violated her bowels. I leaned over her, my breasts pillowing on her back, and fucked her hard. I could feel my weariness fade, my exhaustion wiped away by the ecstasy of sex.

I was Lilith. I did not need sleep. I just needed passion. Lust.

I grunted, my cum pouring into her tight ass. “Oh yes!” I purred. “Drink my lust!”

“Yes, yes, yes!” she gasped. “Oh, Mother, yes!”

Black seed leaked out of her ass when I pulled my cock out. Lamia spun about and engulfed my cock, sucking me into her warm mouth. I gripped her purple hair, and stared down at her mouth obscenely sucking my cock clean. I loved it! Reveled in how depraved it was as I fucked her face. Her fingers wormed into my cunt, duel sensations trembling through me.

“My wonderful daughter! Take it all!” I moaned, shoving my cock roughly down her throat, pressing her nose and lips into my silvery bush.

She moaned, cumming over and over as my Lust flooded her, deliciously vibrating my cock with her passion. Her fingers pumped faster and faster inside me, igniting a fire in my pussy that boiled my ovaries. I pulled my cock out, and sprayed black pitch on her heaving breasts. I admired my gorgeous daughter’s near perfect body – only falling short of perfection when compared to mine – covered in my seed, a radiant smile on her face. Her legs spread; more pitch oozed from her cunt. I mounted her, driving my cock into her sheath.

I fucked my daughter for hours. When she tired, I blessed Crystal with my ecstasy, until the mortal girl was near exhaustion, and then I pounced on my Lamia. I came in every hole she had, fucked her in every position known to woman. My seed oozed black out of her, and more of my pitch stained her skin in ropey strands.

“My Goddess,” a voice whispered urgently.

“What?” I asked, my cock buried in Lamia’s cunt again. Lana knelt beside my bed. When had she arrived?

“Mark’s soldiers are encircling the city, they…”

Zuzu’s loud, piercing screech filled the night from her perch on the roof.

“They are here,” I said calmly, despite my heart hammering in my chest. “You know what to do?”

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

Mark Glassner – Special Forces Compound, Joint Base Lewis-McChord

“I’m going, Mark,” my wife declared, her emerald eyes iron with determination.

“It’s not safe, Mare,” I objected. “You’re pregnant. Think about our child.”

“If you’re going, I’m going,” she firmly said. “If you die, so does our child, so it hardly matters.”

I threw my arms up in frustration. “The soldiers are going to need my abilities. They’ll be fighting Lilith’s daughters.”

“And that’s why I should be there! I’ve been practicing my magic.” She reached out and stroked my face. “Please. I can’t just sit here and wait. Not when you’ll be out there in danger.”

“But…”

“It’s settled,” she said, tossing her auburn ponytail. “I’m going, so just accept it.”

“Fine,” I sighed, not wanting another fight with her. “But you stay back.”

“I’ll be fine! I have this stab vest on.” A black vest that looked like a cop’s body armor covered her torso, stitched with angular symbols. “Sam says it’s as effective as your armor.”

“My armor covers more places,” I muttered.

“I’m glad that’s settled,” she said, and kissed me on the lips. “Besides, you’ll be there to protect me.” Then she whispered in my ear, “Last time I saw you fight, I got so excited! My pussy’s dripping just thinking about watching you fight. When we’re done, I’ll fuck your brains out.”

I felt my cock stir in my black fatigues. “Really?”

“Umm, you have no idea how hot you were when you fought Molech,” she purred.

There was a knock on the door. “Sir,” 51’s voice muffled voice said through the door, “General Brooks says it’s time.”

“Summon your armor,” Mary smiled. “Look impressive for your troops.”

The gold armor materialized out of thin air, settling about my body. Outside, Bravo Company, 2nd Battalion, 75th Rangers Regiment stood assembled in their battle dress, floodlights illuminating the parade ground. The soldiers looked bulky in their khaki uniforms, body armor, helmets, night vision goggles, belts festooned with grenades, ammo clips, and rifles slung across their chests. I glanced at my watch. It was nearly four AM.

By now the 3rd Combat Brigade (Stryker) would have Seattle surrounded, and would start taking strategic sites in the city by 0430 hours. The other companies of the 2/75 Rangers would be deployed by Black Hawk helicopters at the same time around the city, capturing key locations.

The rangers saluted sharply as I approached the podium. I was nervous, not sure what I should say. “Men!” I shouted. “A grave threat has been festering in the city of Seattle. The demoness Lilith has nested there, birthing a brood of foul monsters. They are stronger than a normal human, faster, with lethal abilities that only your darkest nightmares could birth.

“But do not fear! This is why you swore your service, your honor, and your fidelity to me. I have gifted you with weapons that can hurt these abominations, gifted you with greater strength and reflexes. Tonight, we shall crush Lilith’s monsters, capture the foul bitch, and free the people of Seattle, my people, from her bondage!

“This is America, not some demon’s playpen!” Only a false God’s, I thought, suppressing a stab of guilt. It’s for the greater good.

A cheer went up from the soldiers, and someone shouted, “Rangers lead the way!” and the entire company shouted back, “All the way! Hooah!”

I pulled out my bronze knife and stabbed it into thin air, muttering, “Pasaq!” The tip of the knife seemed to disappear as it sank into the veil between life and death, and I drew a portal to the Shadows. Next to me, Mary did the same thing. This spell wasn’t found in the Magicks of the Witch of Endor. We learned it from the Patriot that had tried to kill me in Washington D.C. last month. I had been disturbed to learn that there were at least three other books – grimoires as Sam called them – that had working spells in them that weren’t contained in the Magicks.

“Stay close!” I shouted, as the Rangers glanced hesitantly at each other, then poured through the portals.

It was misty on the other side. Chasity and the other dead bodyguards formed up around us. They were always lurking in the Shadows around Mary and me, protecting us from the Patriots. Three times, according to Chasity, they had sent their people into the Shadows to assassinate us.

Distances were different in the Shadows. After only fifteen minutes of marching through the never-ending, gray mists, we reached Seattle and the warehouse. The company knew their orders, splitting off into four groups, surrounding the warehouse. At 0430, we would assault.

It was surreal in the Shadows. The warehouse was as long as two football fields, yet the four groups were practically standing next to each other, waiting for Mary and me to draw the portals. Lieutenants and sergeants were surveying the scene, giving their men last minute instructions on the assault. There was a nervous energy in the air; everyone was unsettled by the swirling, gray mists and the ever-present chill.

My watch’s alarm went off.

I drew the southwest corner portal as Mary started the northeast. It was easier to draw the portal on this side. It took almost no effort. “Human’s don’t belong in the Shadows,” Sam had explained, “therefore it is easier to escape it then to enter it.” I moved to the southeast corner and drew the second portal, then raced to my wife at the northwest corner.

The first soldiers streamed through, weapons readied, and night vision goggles switched on. Mary pulled on a pair of enchanted sunglasses that would let her see as if it was noon. She looked fierce in her body armor, black fatigue pants, and dark sunglasses, with her auburn hair pulled back into a ponytail. Fierce and sexy. I pulled on my own pair of sunglasses. Sam did great work; I could see everything clearly as I followed the rangers through the portal, trailed by Mary.

A piercing screech filled the night.

For a moment, everything was silent, and then Lilith’s daughters attacked.

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 44.

Der Pakt mit dem Teufel Kapitel 12: Nachspiel

 

 

Der Pakt mit dem Teufel

Kapitel 12: Nachspiel

Von mypenname3000

Übersetzt von Horem

© Copyright 2013


Story Codes: Male/Female, Male/Females, Female/Female, Hermaphrodite/Female, Mind Control, Rape, Anal, Oral, Rimming, Magic, Work, Spanking

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

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 Chapter 11



„Du verdammt Nutte!“ schrie Allison Schwester Louise an. Sie schwang den hölzernen Kochlöffel und ließ ihn auf Schwester Louises blassem Arsch landen.

„Bitte, hör auf!“ rief Schwester Louise vor Schmerz. „Bitte! Das tut weh! Aua!“ Wieder traf sie der Holzlöffel. Diesmal hatte Desiree ihn geschwungen. „Gott, bitte rette deine Sklavin!“ Klatsch. Allison hatte zugeschlagen und Schwester Louise stöhnte vor Schmerz. Klatsch! Diesmal war es wieder Desiree. Klatsch!

Im Wohnzimmer herrschte total Chaos. Möbel lagen herum, der Teppich war vom Blut von Desirees und Korinas Wunden klebrig verschmiert. Korina lag auf dem Rücken und Fiona drückte ein Handtuch auf ihren linken Arm und staute das Blut von der Schusswunde. Chasity sprach in ihr Funkgerät. Die Polizistin war immer noch oben ohne, aber sie hatte inzwischen ihre Waffe wieder in der Hand. Xiu war in der Küche und kümmerte sich um ihre blutende Nase. Offenbar hatte Mary einen Treffer gelandet, als die beiden gekämpft hatten und Xius Nase war gebrochen. Violet hockte in einer Ecke und schaute mit leeren Augen zu, wie die Nonne verprügelt wurde.

Ich setzet mich auf einen Sessel. Mein Kopf schmerzte immer noch vom Schlag mit dem Nudelholz, den Korina mir verpasst hatte, als sie unter der Kontrolle von Schwester Louise gestanden hatte. Mary saß auf meinem Schoß und umarmte mich fest. Wir schauten beide zu, wie sich Desiree und Allison dabei abwechselten, mit Holzlöffeln den nackten Arsch zu verprügeln. Die Nonne lag bäuchlings über einer Armlehne der Couch.

„In ein paar Minuten ist ein Krankenwagen hier“, sagte Chasity. Sie war unsere neueste Sex-Sklavin. Bevor die Nonne uns angegriffen hatte, war mir die Idee gekommen, dass es ganz gut sein könnte, wenn wir ein paar Bodyguards hätten. Ich stellte mir vor, dass eine Gruppe von Sexy Frauen perfekt wäre, aber nachdem Schwester Louise so einfach die Kontrolle über unsere Schlampen übernommen hatte, war ich mir da nicht mehr so sicher.

Ich küsste Marys Handgelenk direkt oberhalb ihrer Schürfwunden. „Ich muss mich jetzt um die Polizisten und um die Mediziner kümmern. Ich muss sicher sein, dass sie alles richtig verstehen.“

„Natürlich“, sagte Mary müde. Sie hatte einen abwesenden Ausdruck, als wäre sie anderswo.

„Bist du okay, Mare?“

Sie seufzte. „Nur ein bisschen müde.“

„Das kommt alles wieder in Ordnung, Mare“, sagte ich ihr. Dann küsste ich ihre Stirn.

„Sicher“, flüsterte sie. Dann stiegen Tränen in ihren Augen auf. „Bis die nächste Nonne kommt.“

„Die hier haben wir doch geschlagen, das geht bei der nächsten auch!“ sagte ich ihr und versuchte, dabei so zu klingen, als würde ich das selber glauben. „Wir haben mehr drauf! Und außerdem haben wir Lilith.“

Mary nickte. Sie wischte sich die Tränen ab und versuchte, überzeugt zu wirken. Aber ich sah immer noch die Furcht in ihren Augen. „Okay, Mark. Lass uns zur Polizei gehen.“

Aus der Entfernung hörten wir Sirenen herankommen und ein Streifenwagen von der Polizei aus Puyallup war das erste Auto, das die Straße heraufkam. Es parkte neben dem Wagen von Chasity. Dann kamen zwei weitere Einsatzwagen und spuckten noch mehr Bullen aus. Ich winkte sie heran und begrüßte sie freundlich. „Guten Tag zusammen. Ich bin Mark Glassner und das hier ist Mary Sullivan. Alles, was wir tun, ist absolut legal. Wenn jemand Sie anspricht und sagt ‚ich diene Mark Glassner‘ oder ‚ich diene Mary Sullivan‘, dann tun Sie alles, was man Ihnen sagt.“

Die drei Bullen nickten. „Ok, Mr. Glassner“, sagte der älteste des Trios. Sein Haar wurde grau und er hatte weiße Streifen auf seinen Ärmeln. Ich nahm an, dass er ein höherer Beamter war.

„Okay, es gibt eine Frau mit einer Schussverletzung am Arm. Die Täterin ist Louise Afra und sie wird gerade drinnen bestraft. Ich werde sie gefangen halten und darauf achten, dass sie bestraft wird.“

Der Offizier blinzelte nicht einmal. „Absolut, Mr. Glassner“. Ich spürte eine erneute Welle Schwindel in meinem Kopf und ich stolperte ein wenig. Mary hielt mich aufrecht. „Geht es Ihnen gut, Sir?“ fragte der Offizier.

„Alles in Ordnung“, murmelte ich.

„Er hat einen Schlag auf den Kopf bekommen“, sagte Mary.

Chasity kam aus dem Haus. Sie war immer noch oben ohne. „Wachtmeisterin Vinter, wo ist der Rest Ihrer Uniform“, sagte der Offizier. Die beiden anderen stießen sich gegenseitig mit den Ellbogen und schauten anzüglich.

Chasity wurde rot. „Marks Anweisungen, Sergeant Kelley.“

Mary schaute Chasity an und sagte: „Willst du uns nicht vorstellen, Mark?“

„Richtig“, sagte ich. „Mary, das ist Chasity. Sie wird eine unserer Bodyguards sein. Zumindest dann, wenn wir wissen, wie wir sicherstellen können, dass unsere Schlampen nicht wieder von einer dieser Nonnen dominiert werden können.“

Mary streckte ihre Hand aus und spielte mit Chasitys Nippel. „Dann bist du jetzt meine Schlampe?“

Chasity schüttelte sich vor Lust. „Ja, Ma‘m.“

Der Krankenwagen kam an. Ihm folgte ein rotes Auto der Feuerwehr. Immer mehr Nachbarn versammelten sich auf ihren Veranden und schauten zu, was sich abspielte. Die Fahrer des Krankenwagens und des Feuerwehrfahrzeugs sammelten ihre Sachen und kamen heran. Ich befahl ihnen, alles Merkwürdige zu ignorieren, was im Haus vorging. Einige befassten sich mit der Schussverletzung von Korina, andere kümmerten sich um mich. Sie leuchteten mir mit einer Lampe in die Augen und fragten mich verschiedene Dinge. Korina wurde in den Krankenwagen gebracht, der sie zum Good Sam zu einer Operation fahren sollte und mir und Xiu empfahl man, zur Notaufnahme zu gehen, um mich durchchecken zu lassen. Zwei weitere Polizisten kamen, während ich noch untersucht wurde und das machte dann zwei weitere Polizisten unter meinem Kommando. Es würde nicht mehr lange dauern, bis ich die gesamte Polizei von Puyallup unter meiner Kontrolle hatte.

Dann kamen die ersten Reporter. Ich hätte eigentlich nicht überrascht sein sollen, dass die Nachricht von einer Schießerei in einer wohlhabenden Nachbarschaft auch die Reporter anzog. Und das wiederum zog auch noch den Polizeichef, einen eisenharten Mann in den Fünfzigern mit grauem Haar und athletischer Figur nach sich. Es sah so aus, als wäre er besser in Form als der eine oder andere seiner Polizisten, die zwanzig Jahre jünger waren als er.

„Guten Tag Chief Hayward“, begrüßte ich ihn. Er hatte einen festen Händedruck. Ich gab ihm die Standardinstruktionen und ließ ihn ins Haus.

Allison und Desiree verprügelten immer noch Louise, deren Arsch jetzt feuerrot war und einige Striemen zeigte. Desiree war nackt, sie hatte ihr ruiniertes Zofen-Outfit abgelegt und auf ihrer dunklen Haut zeigte sich ein leichter Schweißfilm. Ihre schweren Brüste schaukelten und schwangen hin und her, während sie den Holzlöffel schwang. Allison trug noch ihr Outfit. Das Leibchen war so dünn, dass man deutlich ihre harten Nippel und ihre silbernen Piercings sehen konnte. Sie war leicht nach vorne gebeugt und ihr kurzes Röckchen war so hoch gezogen, dass man deutlich die Petticoats darunter sehen konnte und das untere Ende ihres Knackarsches.

Fiona kam nackt aus der Küche ins Wohnzimmer. Offenbar hatte Louise es geschafft den Einkaufstrip der Schlampen zu unterbrechen. Sie hatten also offenbar keine Zofen-Outfits oder andere nuttige Sachen gekauft, wo wie wir ihnen das aufgetragen hatten. Fiona hatte sich aber an ihre Befehle erinnert und hatte sich ausgezogen, während die Sanitäter an Korina arbeiteten.

Violet hockte zusammengekauert auf dem Sessel, den Mary und ich verlassen hatten. Sie war noch angezogen. Ihr Haar war durcheinander, mehrere Strähnen ihres Haares waren aus den Zöpfen entkommen und sie hatte einige Kratzer an ihren Armen vom Kampf, den sie mit Allison gehabt hatte. „Schlampe!“ bellte Mary. „Du bist im Haus und du bist nicht nackt!“

„Entschuldigung, Herrin“, keuchte Violet. Das Blut verließ ihr Gesicht. Sie zog sich schnell ihr schwarzes Kleid aus und fing an, ihre Kniestrümpfe und die Strumpfhalter auszuziehen. Mary stoppte sie.

„Ummmm“, schnurrte Mary. „Lass die mal an. Das sieht geil aus!“ Sie schaute auf den schlanken Körper des Teenagers. Violets Brüste waren klein, eigentlich nur angeschwollene Nippel. Ein lockiger Busch aus braunem Haar bedeckte ihre enge Fotze. Mary beugte Violett über die andere Armlehne des Sofas, auf dem Louise verprügelt wurde und gab ihr einen harten Schlag auf den Arsch.

„Eins“, keuchte Violet. „Danke Herrin.“ Jedes Mal, wenn Mary Violet schlug, zählte diese laut mit und bedankte sich. Mary disziplinierte die Schlampen sehr gerne und ich sah sehr gerne dabei zu, jedenfalls, wenn ich nicht derartige Kopfschmerzen hatte. Zwischen den Schlägen streichelte Mary Violets Arsch und Muschi immer wieder und nach dem fünften Schlag war Violet sichtlich erregt. Sie rieb sich an der Armlehne.

„Fiona, mach dich doch mit Chief Hayward bekannt“, sagte ich, als sich der Polizeichef in einem der Sessel niedergelassen hatte. Fiona lächelte und bevor der Polizeichef etwas sagen konnte, drapierte sie auch schon ihren nackten Körper auf seinem Schoß und küsste ihn auf die Lippen. Der Chief war verwirrt und ich konnte einen goldenen Ehering an seinem Finger sehen. Der alte Kerle hatte wahrscheinlich seit dreißig Jahren keine nackte Zwanzigjährige mehr auf dem Schoß gehabt.

„Werdet ihr die Gefangen festhalten?“ fragte Chief Hayward und schaute zu Louise hinüber. Er schien ein Problem damit zu haben, dass wir sie bestraften.

„Ja.“

„Und was soll ich den Reporten erzählen oder dem Staatsanwalt?“

Ich dachte eine Minute lang nach. „Der Staatsanwalt soll mich anrufen, wenn er irgendwelche Bedenken hat. Und was die Reporter angeht, sagen Sie doch einfach, dass Louise Afra wegen Einbruch und versuchten Mord festgenommen worden ist.“ So würde der, der diese Nonne geschickt hatte, wissen, dass sie versagt hatte. Das würde ihn vorsichtig machen.

Der Chief runzelte die Stirn aber er nickte. „Okay, Mr. Glassner.“

„Ach ja, noch etwas, Chief Hayward“, sagte ich. „Ich werde eine Gruppe Polizisten brauchen, die Mary, mich und die Schlampen beschützen.“

„Ich denke, das können wir einrichten“, sagte der Polizeichef, als Fiona anfing, seinen Hals zu küssen. Seine Hand fand ihre weiche Brust und den harten Nippel. „Wie viele?“

Darüber hatte ich schon nachgedacht. Ich hatte berechnet, dass drei Schichten á acht Stunden mit jeweils zwei Polizisten ausreichen würden. Wenn ich das verdoppelte, müsste es ausreichen. „Zwölf.“

Der Polizeichef runzelte erneut die Stirn. „Das ist eine Menge Manpower. Das ist ja beinahe eine ganze Schicht.“

„Und es müssen junge attraktive Frauen sein, so wie die Polizistin Vinter hier“, sagte ich und zeigte aus Chasity.

Klatsch! „Neun, danke, Herrin!“ schnurrte Violet.

„Es gibt vielleicht noch zwei Polizistinnen, die diesen Anforderungen genügen“, sagte Chief Hayward.

Jetzt runzelte ich die Stirn. Verdammt, daran hatte ich nicht gedacht. Ich dachte einen Moment nach und dann fragte ich: „Gibt es eine Möglichkeit, dass wir uns mit anderen Dienststellen treffen?“

Klatsch! „Dreizehn, danke Herrin!“

„Ja“, sagte der Polizeichef und nickte. „Es gibt ein Treffen der LESA in zwei Tagen. Da werden alle Polizeichefs in Pierce County und der Sheriff anwesend sein.“

„Lisa? Was ist das?“

„Die Strafverfolgungsbehörden legen ihre Ressourcen zum Beispiel für den Notruf und den Funkverkehr zusammen. Und dafür gibt es die LESA, die Law Enforcement Support Agency. In der Verwaltung der LESA sitzen alle Polizeichefs und der County Sheriff.“

Klatsch! „Fünfzehn, danke, Herrin!“

Ich nickte. Das müsste funktionieren, wenn wir einen Weg finden könnten, wie wir die Schlampen gegen die Nonnen immunisieren konnten. „Okay, ich werde kommen.“ Ich schüttelte seine Hand. „Viel Spaß mit Fiona“, sagte ich mit einem Lächeln.

„Äh, ja“, sagte Chief Hayward und sah ein wenig verlegen aus.

„Wir werden eine Menge Spaß haben, Meister“, schnurrte Fiona. Sein Schwanz fühlt sich in seiner Hose so hart an. Ich möchte wetten, dass du schon lange keine scharfe Braut mehr gehabt hast.“

„Meine Frau ist wunderschön“, sagte der Polizeichef.

„Aber nicht so schön wie ich“, forderte Fiona ihn heraus.

„Nein“, flüsterte Hayward und Fiona lächelte verdorben.

„Zwanzig, danke, Herrin!“

„Jeder von den Polizisten darf jede der Schlampen ficken, außer Violet“, sagte ich dem Polizeichef. Mary, die eben die Bestrafung von Violet beendet hatte, schaute mich fragend an. „Mein Schwanz ist das einzige, was bisher in ihrer Fotze war. Und ich möchte, dass das so bleibt“, sagte ich ihr.

„Oh, danke, Meister“, schnurrte Violet.

Mary schlug ihr noch einmal auf den Arsch. „Du musst nicht denken, dass du besser bist als eine unserer anderen Schlampen, nur weniger benutzt. Kann ich dich jetzt ins Krankenhaus bringen, Liebling. Ich möchte sicher sein, dass Korina deinen Kopf nicht dauerhaft beschädigt hat.“

„Okay, okay“, sagte ich. „Schlampen, ihr könnt jetzt aufhören, diese Bitch zu bestrafen.“ Ich ging hinüber zu Luise und nahm ihr Gesicht fest in meine Hand. Ich drehte es so, dass sie zu mir aufsah. „Fotze, du gehörst jetzt Mary und mir. Und du wirst jedes Kommando von jeder einzelnen unserer Schlampen ausführen.“

Mary spuckte ihr ins Gesicht. „Und du heißt ab sofort Schwester Fotzenlappen!“

„J-Ja“ stammelte Schwester Fotzenlappen. Tränen liefen ihr über das Gesicht.

Mary schlug ihr fest ins Gesicht. „Und ich bin für dich die Herrin, Fotzenlappen!“

„Entschuldigung, Herrin!“

Ich ging um Schwester Fotzenlappen herum und schaute mir ihren roten Arsch und ihre haarige Muschi an, die zwischen ihren Oberschenkeln herausschaute. Ich öffnete meine Hose und zog meinen harten Schwanz heraus. Ich schlug damit auf ihren Arsch und genoss ihr schmerzhaftes Stöhnen. Sie war trocken und sie schrie auf, als ich ihr meinen Schwanz hineinrammte. Ihre Fotze fühlte sich auf meinem Schwanz wie Sandpapier an.

„Mark, ich dachte, wir fahren jetzt ins Krankenhaus“, sagte Mary.

„Lass mich nur eben diese Bitch noch vergewaltigen“, keuchte ich und ich fickte Fotzenlappen hart.

„Okay, Liebling“, seufzte Mary. Sie drückte ihren Körper an mich und küsste mich. „Aber mach nicht so lange.“ Dann verschwand sie in der Küche, um Xiu zu holen.

„Ja, vergewaltige sie, Meister!“ schnurrte Allison. Desiree hatte ihre Arme um Allison geschlungen und fingerte die Schlampe unter ihren Rock. Desiree beobachtete die Situation mit großer Befriedigung.

Violet saß auf der anderen Armlehne des Sofas und schaute mit großen Augen zu. Ihre Beine waren gespreizt und sie drückte sanft ihren Kitzler. Chasity lehnte gegen das Sofa und schaute ebenfalls fasziniert zu. Dabei rieb sie langsam ihren Schoß an der Couch und masturbierte. Ihre Brust schwang in ihrem Rhythmus.

Ich griff nach den Hüften von Fotzenlappen und rammte mich tief und hart in sie. Sie schluchzte und bewegte ihren Arsch, als wollte sie mir entkommen. „Warum wehrst du dich, du Hure?“ wollte ich ärgerlich wissen. „Das ist doch, was du wolltest! Du bist doch hergekommen, um meinen Schwanz in dein versautes Loch zu bekommen. Du willst doch meinen Saft! Warum freust du dich denn nicht?“

„Bitte!“ bettelte Schwester Fotzenlappen. „Bitte, hör auf! Es tut mir leid. Lass mich gehen. Ich werde niemandem etwas sagen, das verspreche ich!“

„Leck mich!“ sagte ich. „Du gehörst jetzt mir! Also gewöhne dich besser daran, dass du meinen Schwanz in deiner Fotze hast! Und jetzt darfst du um meinen Saft betteln!“

„Bitte! Bitte, spritz in mich!“

„Das geht besser, du Nutte!“

„Komm ich meine versaute Fotze!“ stammelte sie. „Spritz mir deinen dicken Saft rein, Meister!“

„Hier kommt es!“ stöhnte ich. Mein Schwanz überflutete ihre trockene Fotze mit meinem Saft. Ich zog meinen Schwanz aus ihrer geschwollenen Muschi heraus und weißes Sperma lief heraus. Fotzenlappen schluchzte leise.

Mary war wieder da und sie schlug Fotzenlappen ins Gesicht. „Gute Schlampen bedanken sich bei ihrem Meister, wenn er ihnen sein Sperma gibt!“

„D-danke, Meister“, weinte Fotzenlappen.

„Chasity, wirf Schwester Fotzenlappen in einen Wandschrank“, befahl ich und steckte meinen Schwanz wieder weg. „Anschließend werdet ihr Schlampen hier wieder alles sauber machen, wenn nicht einer von den Polizisten mal eure Schnallen probieren möchte. Desiree, wahrscheinlich muss der Teppich ausgetauscht werden, mach also ein paar Anrufe. Wenn ihr fertig seid, in meinem Auto liegen eine Menge Sporttaschen. Bringt sie in den Keller und fangt schon mal an, das Geld zu zählen.“

„Ja, Meister“, sagten Allison und Desiree gleichzeitig und dann kicherten sie, Die beiden Schlampen freuten sich darauf, ein paar Polizistenschwänze in ihren Schnallen zu haben.

Fiona gab keine Antwort. Sie war zu beschäftigt. Sie hatte schon den Schwanz des Polizeichefs herausgefischt und ritt ihn langsam. Mary schlug ihr auf den Arsch. „Hast du die Anordnungen gehört, Schlampe?“

„Oh ja“, stöhnte Fiona und ritt weiter.

Ich nahm Violet und flüsterte ihr zu: „Nimm den Camcorder und filme den Polizeichef mit Fiona.“ Es konnte nicht schaden, für alle Fälle ein bisschen Material gegen ihn zu haben.

Mary küsste die Schlampen. Auf dem Weg zum Auto sagte ich den Polizisten, dass es ihm Haus Fotzen zur freien Benutzung gab. Ich hatte schon immer die Meinung vertreten, dass man die Jungs in Blau unterstützen musste. Dann stiegen Mary, Xiu und ich in Marys Eos. Xius Nase hatte aufgehört zu bluten und sie hatte sich abgewischt. Jetzt schwoll ihr Gesicht an und ihre Nase stand ein wenig schief. Mary startete den Motor und fuhr rückwärts aus der Einfahrt heraus. Der Wagen der Feuerwehr und der Krankenwagen waren schon weg. Jetzt standen dort nur noch sechs Streifenwagen.

„Was ist eigentlich mit Lilith passiert?“ wollte Mary plötzlich wissen. Ich zuckte die Achseln und mir fiel auf, dass die ich Dämonin nicht mehr gesehen hatte, seit die Polizisten angekommen waren.

„Ich bin hier“, sagte eine verführerische Stimme.

Mary zuckte zusammen und schaute in den Spiegel. Das Auto schlingerte ein wenig. Lilith saß neben Xiu auf der Rückbank. Sie hatte dasselbe enge rote Kleid an, das so durchsichtig war und es tat nichts, um ihren üppigen Körper zu verbergen. Ihr silbernes Haar war ganz zerwühlt, als ob sie gerade im Bett hart gefickt worden wäre. Begierde erfüllte das Auto und mein Schwanz wurde in meiner Hose schmerzhaft hart.

„Ich habe es vorgezogen, mich in die Schatten zurückzuziehen“, schnurrte Lilith. „Ich verabscheue die Welt der Sterblichen.“

Mary nickte und schluckte. Es schien ihr nicht recht zu sein, dass Lilith hier war. „Wir müssen uns unterhalten, wenn wir vom Krankenhaus zurück sind. Warte bitte im Schlafzimmer auf uns“, sagte Mary. Sie klang so, als sein sie nicht sicher, ob sie Lilith Befehle geben konnte.

Lilith lächelte, ein hungriges Raubtierlächeln. „Wie du wünschst, Herrin.“

„Warte mal, das war aber jetzt keiner von den Segen, oder?“ fragte ich.

„Oh nein“; sagte Lilith. „Damit es ein Segen ist, muss ich meine Macht anwenden. Desiree heilen oder die Macht der Nonne brechen, Aber reden und andere Aktivitäten im Schlafzimmer“, sagte sie, „die se Sachen fordern meine Kraft nicht.“

Und dann war sie weg. Xiu keuchte und es gab ein nasses schmatzendes Geräusch. Ich erkannte, dass Xiu masturbierte. Lilith strahlte Sex aus und das steckte einen jeden in ihrem Umkreis an. Mein eigener Schwanz war schmerzhaft hart und ich sah, dass Marys harte Nippel ihre weiße Bluse ausbeulten. Ihr Gesicht war vor Lust gerötet. Sie leckte ihre Lippen und schaute auf meinen Schoß.

„Pass auf, dass du den Sitz nicht versaust“, sagte Mary zu Xiu, die sich immer noch heftig rieb.

„Ich passe schon auf, Herrin“, keuchte Xiu. Ihre Stimme klang wegen ihrer gebrochenen Nase leicht nasal. Ein würziger Duft stieg auf, während Xiu sich befriedigte. Das einzige Geräusch im Auto war das Schmatzen, das ihre Finger erzeugten, wenn sie in ihre nasse Fotze eintauchten. Und ihrem Mund entrang sich leises Stöhnen. Nach wenigen Minuten klang ihr Stöhnen leidend und sie wand sich auf dem Sitz.

„War das ein Schöner?“ fragte Mary.

„Oh ja, Herrin“, schnurrte Xiu.

„Gut, denn wenn wir beim Krankenhaus ankommen, dann werden wir auf die Damentoilette gehen und dann wirst du mich fingern. Du hast mich total geil gemacht, du Schlampe.“

„Hey, und was ist mit mir?“ protestierte ich. Mein Schwanz war steinhart wegen Lilith und Xiu zuzuhören, hatte die Situation für mich nicht leichter gemacht.

„Och, mein armer Hengst“, sagte Mary und sie tätschelte meine Beule. „Du hast doch den Sanitäter gehört. Du sollst dich schonen.“

„Es geht mir aber gut“, protestierte ich. „Ich brauche eigentlich keinen Arzt, Meine Kopfschmerzen sind fast weg und mir ist auch nicht mehr übel.“

„Tu mir doch den Gefallen, Liebling!“ Mary starrte mich an.

„Gut, gut, aber nur weil du es bist. Und nur, weil ich dich so liebe.“

Marys Starren verwandelte sich in ein Lächeln. Sie hielt an einer Ampel und beugte sich zu mir, um mich zu küssen. „Okay, du darfst uns begleiten.“

„Danke, Mare.“

Nach ein paar weiteren Minuten kamen wir beim Good Samaritan Krankenhaus in Puyallup an. Mary parkte in der Nähe der Notaufnahme. Good Sam hatte sich verändert, seit ich das letzte Mal hier gewesen war. Die Notaufnahme war nicht mehr so ein enger Bereich, in dem die Krankenwagen kaum Platz fanden. Mary stieg aus, nahm Xius Hand und ging in Richtung Eingang. Sie war so aufgeregt, dass sei glatt vergaß, den Wagen auszumachen. Das erledigte ich dann und ich verschloss auch das Auto.

Ich folgte den Mädchen ins das Krankenhaus. Der Wartesaal war leer. Ich sah mich um und entdeckte die Türen zu den Toiletten. Ich ging hin. Aus der Damentoilette hörte ich leises Stöhnen einer Frau. Ich öffnete die Tür. Es war eine kleine Toilette für nur eine Person. Mary lehnte an der Rückwand und Xiu drückte sich gegen sie. Sei fingerte wild ihre Muschi unter dem Kleid. Mary schnurrte vor Lust und lächelte mich glücklich an. Mary fuhr mit ihrer Hand zu Xius schlankem Arsch hinunter und zog ihr weißes Kleid, das mit Rosen bedruckt war, hoch. Ich konnte den nackten asiatischen Arsch sehen.

Ich schloss lächelnd die Tür und zog meinen Schwanz heraus. Dann machte ich ein paar Schritte auf die Mädchen zu. Ich spreizte Xius Arsch, fand ihr runzeliges enges Arschloch und schob ihr meinen Schwanz in die Eingeweide. Xiu fing an, vor Schmerzen zu stöhnen und dann wurde das Stöhnen immer lustvoller, als ich bis zum Anschlag in ihrem engen trockenen Arsch steckte. „Oh Meister, fick meinen dreckigen Arsch mit deinem großen Schwanz!“ Xiu mochte es rau. Sie stand auf Schmerzen.

„Ist das deine Fotze, die da gerade mein Bein nass macht?“ fragte Mary Xiu.

„Es tut mir leid, Herrin“, entschuldigte sich Xiu. „Aber der Schwanz vom Meister tut in meinem Arsch so toll weh!“

„Finger mich weiter, Schlampe“, zischte Mary und zog fest an Xius Nippel. „Nachdem es uns beiden gekommen ist, leckst du dann deinen Saft von meinem Bein ab!“

„Oh ja, Herrin!“ stöhnte Xiu glücklich.

Ich genoss Xius Arsch und ihr Keuchen und Stöhnen. Ich streckte meine rechte Hand aus und fuhr damit unter Marys Bluse. Ich fuhr nach oben und fand ihre feste Brust. „Oh, das fühlt sich gut an“, murmelte Mary, als ich sanft mit ihrem Nippel spielte.

„So fühlt es sich immer an“, sagte ich und genoss ihre stramme Brust.

„Macht dir der Arsch von unserer Schlampe auch gute Gefühle?“ schnurrte Mary.

„Richtig gute“, stöhnte ich. „Ich werde ihr gleich tief in ihren Schlampenarsch spritzen.“

Ich grunzte und es kam mir hart in Xius Arsch. Ich fickte sie noch einige weitere Stöße lang und schoss ihr mehrere Spritzer meines Saftes in den Arsch. Xius Finger rieben fest an Marys Kitzler und der Raum war mit schmatzenden Geräuschen erfüllt. Mary keuchte, als es ihr auf Xius Fingern kam. Sie riss hart an Xius Nippel. Xiu schrie auf, ihr Arsch wurde auf meinem Schwanz ganz eng und der Orgasmus rollte durch ihren Körper.

Xiu kniete sich hin und leckte ihren Saft von Marys Schenkel. Dann leckte sie auch noch meinen Schwanz sauber. Ich schmuste, als das Ablecken zu einem Blowjob wurde. Xiu keuchte immer noch wegen der Schmerzen in ihrer Nase, aber wahrscheinlich stand sie auf diese Art von Schmerz auch. Marys Zunge spielte mit meiner, während wir uns küssten. Meine Hand glitt an ihrem Körper nach unten und sie fand Marys Fotze. Sie war heiß und nass. Ich stieß ihr zwei meiner Finger rein und fickte sie langsam, während ich ihr gleichzeitig mit der Handfläche den Kitzler rieb.

Das war der Himmel. Ich küsste meine Liebe, während eine Schlampe mir den Schwanz blies. In mir stieg Zorn auf. Diese Bitch, Schwester Fotzenlappen, hatte mir das wegnehmen wollen. Hatte uns das wegnehmen wollen. Mary küsste mich hart und ich spürte, wie ihr Körper in meinen Armen zitterte. Zu wissen, dass ich meiner Liebe gerade einen Orgasmus schenkte, kippte mich auch über die Kante und ich schoss mehrere Spritzer meines Spermas in Xius saugenden Mund.

Mary lächelte. „Das war toll, aber jetzt haben wir genug gespielt. Du brauchst endlich einen Arzt.“

„Ja“, hauchte ich, während Xiu die letzten Tropfen aus meinem Schwanz saugte. Wir ordneten unsere Kleidung wieder und verließen die Toilette. Dann gingen wir zur Anmeldung.

Selbst mit meinen Kräften brauchte es eine Menge Papierkrieg, um an einen Arzt zu kommen. Ich sorgte zwar dafür, dass die Schwester hinter dem Tresen uns an der Anfang der Reihe vorzog, aber trotzdem tat mir am Ende die Hand von der ganzen Ausfüllerei der Formulare weh. Niemand hier sah so aus, als würde er gleich sterben, was sollte es also. Nachdem Xiu und ich die Formulare alle ausgefüllt hatten, führte eine muslimische Schwester mit einem rosafarbenen Kittel und einem farbenfrohen Tuch um ihr Haar Mary und mich in einen Untersuchungsraum, während Xiu in einen anderen Raum geführt wurde.

Wir waren in einem typischen Untersuchungsraum: ein Krankenhausbett, verschlossene Regale, ein Stuhl auf Rollen. Die Schwester hieß Thamina und auf dem ganzen Weg in den Untersuchungsraum schaute sie Mary an. Ihre Augen waren vor Lust richtig dunkel. Als wir im Raum waren, fing sie an, sich mit Mary zu unterhalten, während sie mich untersuchte. Sie hatte einen schwülen arabischen Akzent. Es war gerade so, als wäre ich überhaupt nicht anwesend, so schamlos flirtete Thamina mit meiner Verlobten. Sie musste meinen Blutdruck gleich zweimal messen, weil sie sich derartig auf Mary konzentrierte, dass sie vergaß, die Werte der ersten Messung aufzuschreiben. Offenbar wirkte Marys Wunsch, dass alle Frauen sie begehren sollten, so stark wie immer.

Als meine Untersuchungen beendet waren, schob Thamina meinen Boden in eine Hülle, die außerhalb des Zimmers an der Tür hing. Dann kümmerte sie sich ausführlichst um Marys Schrammen von den Handschellen. Sie streichelte meiner Verlobten ihre Handgelenke und die Hände und verbrachte dann noch mehr Zeit drauf, ihr eine Salbe auf die Schrunden zu reiben. Mary griff nach oben und streichelte der dunkelhäutigen Schwester die Wange. Dann blinzelte sie mir zu und zog die Schwester zu einem Kuss zu sich heran. Die Schwester setzte sich auf Marys Schoß und das Paar küsste sich leidenschaftlich. Marys Hand schob sich unter die Uniform der Schwester und nach oben, um die Titten der Schwester in die Hand zu nehmen. Mein Schwanz wurde hart und ich befreite ihn aus meiner Jeans und wichste ihn sanft, während ich ihnen beim Küssen zusah.

„Hi, ich bin Dr. Klerk“, sagte eine Frau, die in den Raum hereinplatzte, während sie meinen Untersuchungsbogen studierte. Schwester Thamina erstarrte einen Moment auf Marys Schoß, aber Mary ließ sich nicht ablenken und küsste die Frau weiter.

„Ich heiße Mark und mach dir nichts daraus, dass meine Verlobte da mit deiner Schwester schmust“, sagte ich ihr. Dabei wichste ich meinen Schwanz weiter. Die Ärztin war eine kleine Blonde mit herzförmigem Gesicht und großen blauen Augen.

Sie schaute auf die beiden Frauen und blinzelte. Dann zuckte sie die Achseln und drehte sich wieder zu mir. „Mark, Sie haben sich also den Kopf gestoßen?“ fragte sie. Dann sah sie, dass ich meinen Schwanz wichste und wurde rot. „Sir, was machen Sie da?“

„Ich muss jetzt kommen. Komm, lutsch mir den Schwanz, Frau Doktor.“

Die blonde Ärztin ließ den Untersuchungsbogen fallen und bückte sich. Sie saugte meinen Schwanz in ihren Mund. Sie war richtig gierig und ihre Zunge fuhr um meine empfindliche Eichel herum. Ich fuhr mit meiner Hand in ihr dichtes seidiges Haar und schloss meine Augen. Dann genoss ich ihren geschickten Blowjob. Sie fing an, ihren Kopf zu bewegen, ihre Hände umschlossen vorsichtig meine Eier und massierten langsam mein Sperma heraus.

„Oh verdammt, du bist gut, Frau Doktor!“ stöhnte ich. „Hier kommt es. Schluck alles!“

Ich stöhnte und schoss drei Spritzer Sperma in ihren Mund. Sie schluckte schnell und fuhr dann fort zu lutschen. Ihre Hand drückte meinen Schwanz und molk auch noch den letzten Tropfen heraus. Dann erhob sie sich, ihr Gesicht war gerötet und sie bückte sich, um den Untersuchungsbogen wieder aufzuheben.

Sie zog sich ihre weiße Jacke zurecht. „Sie sind also auf den Kopf geschlagen worden?“ fragte Dr. Klerk. Sie war sichtlich verlegen.

Die Ärztin fing an, mich zu untersuchen und eine Menge Fragen zu stellen. Sie leuchtete mir mit einer kleinen Lampe in die Augen, prüfte meine Reflexe und machte noch verschiedene andere Untersuchungen mit mir, während Mary die Krankenschwester zu einem schreienden Orgasmus brachte. Dann untersuchte die Ärztin meinen linken Arm, an dem mich Desiree mit dem Baseballschläger getroffen hatte. Der Arm war grün und blau, geschwollen und sehr berührungsempfindlich.

„Ihrem Arm geht es bald wieder besser. In den nächsten zwei Wochen werden die Blutergüsse verschwinden“, sagte Dr. Klerk mir. „Und sie haben eine leichte Gehirnerschütterung. Ich möchte, dass Sie ein paar Stunden zur Beobachtung hier bei uns bleiben.“

Schwester Thamina kicherte, als Mary ihr etwas ins Ohr flüsterte. Die Schwester stand auf, strich ihren Kittel glatt und verließ das Untersuchungszimmer. Mary lächelt mich an und hatte einen einfachen weißen BH in der Hand. Was für ein verdorbenes Fohlen, dachte ich und schnaubte leise. Mary stand auf und ging zur Ärztin hinüber.

„Na, fertig mit meiner Schwester?“ fragte Dr. Klerk und lächelte Mary an.

Mary leckte sich den Saft der Schwester von den Fingern. „Ja, fürs erste.“

Die Ärztin bemerkte Marys Handgelenke. „Oh, was ist denn da passiert?“ Dr. Klerk griff nach Marys Handgelenken und streichelte ihr leicht über die Haut.

„Kleines Problem beim Bondage“, gab Mary zurück.

„Ich sehe, Thamina hat schon ein wenig Salbe darauf getan“, schnurrte Dr, Klerk. „Vielleicht kann ich ja noch etwas tun, damit Sie sich besser fühlen?“

Mary führte sie zu dem Stuhl und dann setzte sie sich hin und spreizte ihre Beine. „Vielleicht würde ich mich besser fühlen, wenn Du mich küssen würdest?“

„Sie wollen, dass ich… da unten?“ fragte Dr. Klerk und schluckte.

Mary zog ihren Rock hoch und zeigte ihre nasse Muschi. Ihre Schamlippen standen genauso weit offen wie ihre Beine. Sie glänzten rosa. Dr. Klerk kniete sich beinahe betäubt vor Mary auf den Boden. Dann senkte sie ihr Gesicht in Marys Schoß. Sie atmete tief ein und sog den würzigen Geruch von Marys Erregung in ihre Lungen. Dann schürzte sie ihre Lippen und küsste Marys Muschi.

„Oh, das geht aber besser“, schnurrte Mary. „Mach mal richtig!“

Schwester Thamina kam mit einem Rollwagen zurück. Auf dem Rollwagen waren ein Behälter mit Seifenwasser und ein großer gelber Schwamm. Sie schaute zu Mary und ein nervöses Lächeln erschien auf ihrem Gesicht. Mary nickte nur und Thamina kam zu mir herüber. „Sir, wenn Sie sich bitte ausziehen würden. Ihre Verlobte möchte, dass ich Sie mit dem Schwamm wasche.“ Ihre Wangen waren gerötet.

Ich schaute zu Mary und sie lächelte glücklich. Ich nickte ihr anerkennend zu. Dann schloss Mary die Augen und gab sich den Gefühlen hin, die die Ärztin ihr mit ihrer Zunge an ihrer Fotze erzeugte. Ich zog mein Hemd aus und anschließend meine Jeans und meine Unterhose. Mein Schwanz war schon wieder hart. Während ich mich auszog, machte Thamina mir das nach. Sie legte das Kopftuch ab und ließ ihr rabenschwarzes Haar frei . Sie hatte so tolles Haar, dass ich nicht verstand, warum sie es unter diesem Kopftuch versteckte. Dann zog sie ihren rosafarbenen Kittel aus und zeigte mir ihre weichen Brüste mit den dunklen Nippeln. Sie kickte ihre Schuhe weg und öffnete dann ihre Hose. Sie ließ sie einfach auf den Boden rutschen. Thamina schaute noch einmal zu Mary hinüber, als ob sie Unterstützung suchte. Dann fiel auch ihr weißes Höschen. Ihre Muschi war von einer dunklen Matte aus schwarzem Haar bedeckt.

Ich legte mich auf das Krankenbett und Thamina tauchte den Schwamm in das warme Wasser. Dann drückte sie das meiste Wasser wieder heraus. Sie wusch mir sanft meine Brust. Von einem nackten sexy Mädchen gewaschen zu werden, das hat definitiv etwas! Ich streckte meine Hand aus und streichelte eine ihrer weichen Titten. Sie war gerade groß genug für eine Hand. Ich drückte sie leicht. Ihr dunkler Nippel war unter meiner Handfläche hart geworden und Thamina erstarrte kurz, bis sie mich dann weiter wusch.

Sie wusch meine Brust und dann meinen Bauch und bewegte den Schwamm an meinem Penis vorbei zu meinen Beinen. Ich musste ihr Brust loslassen, als sie aus meiner Reichweite verschwand. „Willst du mir den Schwanz nicht waschen?“ fragte ich sie und schaute sie an.

„Ihre Verlobte hat mir für Ihren Penis eine besondere Anweisung gegeben, Sir“, sagte sie und wurde rot.

Thamina kümmerte sich jetzt um mein anderes Bein und langte über den Tisch. Ihre Brust fuhr über meinen Schenkel und mich durchfuhr ein wohliges Kribbeln, als ich ihren harten Nippel spürte. Als sie fertig war, nahm sie den Schwamm, drückte ihn gegen ihre Muschi und rieb sich ein paarmal. Dann stieg sie auf das Bett und hockte sich in der Reverse Cowgirl Stellung über mich. Dann brachte sie meinen Schwanz an den Eingang zu ihrer nassen und seifigen Muschi. Ich spürte, wie ihre Schamlippen meine Eichel küssten und ich fragte mich, worauf sie wartete.

„Mach es!“ zischte Mary. „Wasch seinen Schwanz mit deiner nassen Fotze!“

„Ja!“ stöhnte Thamina und senkte sich. „Schau mich an! Schau mich mit deinen fantastischen grünen Augen an!“

„Oh verdammt, ist das geil!“ stöhnte Mary. „Spiel mit deinen Titten!“

Thaminas Hände gingen nach oben und es war klar, dass sie mit ihren Titten spielte. Ihre Fotze war wie Seide auf meinem Schwanz. Ihre Arsch wackelte vor meinen Augen, während sie auf mir auf und ab hüpfte. Ihr braunes Arschloch zwinkerte mir zu. Ich leckte einen Finger und schob ihn ihr hinein.

„Oh verdammt!“ stöhnte Thamina. „Er hat einen Finger in meinen Arsch gesteckt!“

„Du verdammte Schlampe!“ keuchte Mary. „Du bist eine dreckige Hure! Mach meinen Hengst fertig! Reite seinen Schwanz!“

„Ich komme gleich“, stöhnte Thamina. „Schau zu, wie es mir kommt, Mary!“

Ihre Fotze wurde auf meinem Schwanz ganz eng und ihr Arschloch klemmte meinen Finger ein, als Thamina hart kam. Sie ritt mich weiter und schrie aus vollem Hals. Gott, ihre Fotze fühlte sich so toll auf meinem Schwanz an. Ich war auch kurz davor, abzuspritzen.

Und was ist, wenn sie eine von diesen Nonnen ist?

Der Gedanke fasste wie eine eisige Hand an mein Herz. Was wäre, wenn sie auch eine von diesen Nonnen wäre? Wahrscheinlich nicht, glaubte ich. Aber bist du sicher? Du würde alles verlieren, nur weil du so gerne jetzt kommen würdest. Bist du so erbärmlich? Gott, aber ihre Fotze fühlte sich wirklich unglaublich an. Ich war so kurz davor, dass ich es jetzt nicht mehr aufhalten konnte. Ich konnte nicht mehr stoppen. Meine Eier zogen sich zusammen. Scheißegal! Sie war wahrscheinlich keine von diesen Nonnen. Nur eine verkommene Krankenschwester.

„Nimm es, Nutte!“ stöhnte ich, als ich ihn ihr kam. „Ich spritze dir die versaute Fotze voll!“ Ich spürte Erleichterung. Nichts war passiert.

„Ja!“ rief Mary. „Spritz diese Nutte voll! Mir kommt es jetzt auch auf dem Gesicht der Ärztin!“

Thamina atmete heftig. Sie kletterte von mir herunter. Weißer Saft quoll aus ihrer Muschi und verklebte ihren Haarbusch. Mary keuchte auf ihrem Stuhl und Dr. Klerk kniete vor ihr. Ihre Gesicht war verklebt. Sie sah total verblüfft aus, wegen dem, was sie eben getan hatte.

„Äh… ich muss mich jetzt um die anderen Patienten kümmern“, sagte sie und floh aus dem Untersuchungszimmer.“

Mary ging zu Thamina hinüber und küsste sie hart. Ihr Finger schob sich in Thaminas Fotze und er kam bedeckt mit meinem Sperma und Thaminas Saft wieder heraus. Lächelnd leckte Mary ihren Finger wieder ab. Thamina war gerade abgelenkt, deswegen merkte sie es nicht, dass ich ihr das Höschen wegnahm. Sie schaute sich dann um, fand es nicht und zog dann einfach ihren Kittel ohne ihr Höschen wieder an. Während sie das Untersuchungszimmer verließ, rückte sie ihr Kopftuch zurecht. Während sie noch ging, zeigte ich Mary den nassen Fleck, der sich in ihrem Schoß bildete Mary.

„Was für eine Schlampe“, kicherte Mary. „Hat dir dein Bad gefallen?“

„Das kannst du wohl sagen.“

Mary streckte sich auf dem Bett neben mir aus und küsste mich auf die Lippen. „Ich danke dir. Ich liebe dich so sehr.“

Mary küsste mich noch einmal. „Ich liebe dich auch.“ Sie legte ihren Kopf auf meine Brust und ihr rotbraunes Haar fiel über meinen Körper. „Vielleicht sollten wir auch einen Doktor bei unseren Leuten haben. Und eine Krankenschwester.“

„Oh“, sagte ich. „Das könnte in der Tat sehr nützlich sein. Du möchtest sicher Dr. Klerk behalten, oder?“

„Vielleicht“, sagte Mary. „Aber ich glaube ein Gynäkologe wäre vielleicht noch sinnvoller. Lass uns den Tatsachen ins Auge schauen. Du wirst sicher früher oder später eine Schwangerschaft verursachen!”

Ich blinzelte. Daran hatte ich bisher überhaupt nicht gedacht! „Bist du…?“

Mary lachte. „Wir haben doch erste vor einer Woche angefangen, miteinander Liebe zu machen“, sagte sie. „Ich könnte das noch gar nicht wissen. Meine Periode kommt erst in etwa zwei Wochen. Außerdem nehme ich die Pille.“

„Oh.“ Ich war ein wenig enttäuscht. Die Idee, dass Mary meine Kinder haben würde, hatte etwas in mir bewegt. „Möchtest du gerne Kinder, Mary?“

„Ja, irgendwann“, sagte Mary. „Wenn sich alles beruhigt hat und wenn wir genug Spaß gehabt haben. Ich hätte kein Problem, wenn ich ein bis drei Kinder mit dir hätte.. Es sei denn…“ Sie wurde in meinen Armen steif.

„Ich glaube, das würde mir auch gefallen“, sagte ich. „Was machen wir denn, wenn eine von unseren Schlampen schwanger wird?“

„Darum kümmern wir uns dann, wenn es passiert. Aber wir sollten ihnen allen die Pille geben“, sagte Mary.

Nach einer Stunde kam Schwester Thamina wieder, um mich noch einmal zu untersuchen. Jetzt hatte sie einen grünen Kittel an. Das ging so gar nicht. Nach der Untersuchung schoss ich ihr eine weitere Ladung in die Schnalle, während sie gleichzeitig Marys Fotze ausleckte. „Diesmal machst du dich nicht sauber“, sagte ich ihr. „Wenn jemand das sieht, dann erzählst du, wie ich in deiner Fotze gekommen bin, während du gleichzeitig die Fotze meiner Verlobten geleckt hast.“ Sie verließ den Raum und wurde rot, als mein Sperma wieder einen nassen Fleck in ihrem Schoß machte.

Danach kam Xiu zu uns ins Zimmer. Ihre Nase war geschient. Und als Schwester Thamina wieder kam, um mich zu untersuchen, ließen wir sie Xius Fotze lecken, während Mary gleichzeitig meinen Schwanz ritt. Dann musste Schwester Thamina Marys Schleimfotze auslecken, während Xiu auf mich sprang und meinen Schwanz ritt.

Einige Minuten später kam Dr. Klerk wieder. „Nun, Mark, ich werde Sie jetzt entlassen. Sie sollten in den kommenden Wochen ein wenig auf sich achten. Sie sollten besonders auf wiederkehrende Übelkeit, schlimmer werdende Kopfschmerzen, Schwindelgefühl, Lallen und Doppelsichtigkeit achten. Wenn etwas in dieser Art auftritt, dann sollten sie unbedingt zu einem Krankenhaus gehen. Nehmen sie ein Schmerzmittel wie etwa Ibuprofen oder Aspirin gegen die Schmerzen. Haben Sie noch irgendwelche Fragen?“

„Passt der Teppich zum Vorhang?“, fragte ich.

Dr. Klerk hatte einen geilen Körper, als sie sich den blauen Kittel ausgezogen hatte. Und es stellte sich heraus, dass sie keine echte Blondine war. Sie hatte schwarzes Haar. Sie hatte ihre Fotze gewachst und nur einen schmalen Landestreifen übrig gelassen, der zu ihrem Kitzler führte. Ihre Fotze war heiß und eng und ich kam hart in ihr, während Mary gleichzeitig die Zunge von Schwester Thamina in ihrer Schnalle genoss.

Wir beschlossen, dass wir Schwester Thamina behalten würden. Wir ließen sie ihren Erste-Hilfe-Koffer holen, während wir losgingen, um zu sehen, wie es Korina ging. Wir fanden die Schwester der Ambulanz immer noch hinter dem Tresen und fragten sie. „Wie geht es Korina?“

Die Schwester, eine kräftige Frau in den Vierzigern mit Dauerwelle und schlecht gefärbten Haaren, fragte: „Wie ist der Nachname?“

Ich zögerte. Ich erkannte, dass ich von keiner unserer Schlampen den Nachnamen kannte, außer den von Desiree. „Mare, wie heißt Korina mit Nachnamen?“

Mary blinzelte überrascht und schürzte die Lippen. „Äh… ich glaube, irgendwas mit S…“

„Stavros“, sagte Xiu. „Sie heißt Stavros, Meister.“

Die Schwester starrte auf Xiu und schüttelte den Kopf. Sie murmelte etwas vor sich hin. „Wie ist ihre Beziehung zu Ms. Stavros?“

„Sie ist unsere Sex-Sklavin“, sagte ich.

„Entschuldigung, ich habe glaube ich nicht richtig verstanden“, keuchte die Schwester.

„Doch ja, sie ist unsere Sex-Sklavin“, sagte ich gereizt. „Und das macht uns quasi zu ihrer Familie. Sagen Sie uns also bitte, wie es ihr geht.“

„Richtig“, sagte die Schwester und schüttelte den Kopf. „Ms. Stavros ist auf dem Weg der Besserung. Die Operation ist gut verlaufen. Der Doktor möchte, dass sie noch ein paar Tage bei uns bleibt.“

Thamina kam mit ihrem Erste-Hilfe-Koffer und wir ließen uns von ihr zu Korinas Zimmer führen. Korina lag bewusstlos auf einem Bett und hatte noch das OP-Hemdchen an. Blaue Laken lagen über ihrem Körper und verschiedene Schläuche und andere Dinge waren noch an ihrem Körper angeschlossen. Sie war ganz blass. Ich setzte mich auf einen Stuhl. Mary nahm sich auch einen Stuhl und setzte sich neben mich. Sei griff nach Korinas Hand. Xiu lehnte gegen Korinas Bett und hatte die Arme um sich geschlungen. Sie schaute ihre Mitschlampe an.

„Herrin?“ murmelte Korina. Ihre Augen öffneten sich flatternd. Mary drückte sanft ihre Hand. „Und Meister.“ Korina klang glücklich und schläfrig. Sie lallte ein wenig.

„Es geht dir bald wieder besser“, sagte ich ihr. „Du musst nur ein paar Tage hier im Krankenhaus bleiben, bevor du wieder nach Hause kannst.“

„Okay, Meister“, seufzte sie. „Danke.“

„Werde wieder ganz gesund!“ sagte ich und tätschelte ihr Bein. „Eine von den Schlampen wird immer bei dir sein.“

Sie nickte, schloss die Augen und schlief wieder ein.

„Xiu, du bleibst hier, bis ich dir eine Ablösung schicke.“

Mary küsste Korinas Stirn und dann gingen wir. Ich traf die Oberschwester und sagte ihr, dass Korina ständig jemanden um sich herum brauchte. Ich gab ihr meine Telefonnummer für den Fall, dass jemand damit ein Problem hatte. Es war jetzt fast Mitternacht und ich war sehr erschöpft, als wir bei Marys Auto ankamen. Mary fummelt in ihrer Tasche herum und wurde panisch, als sie ihren Schlüssel nicht fand.

„Hier, Mare“, sagte ich und warf ihr den Autoschlüssel zu. „Du warst vorher so geil darauf, Xius Finger in deiner Muschi zu spüren, dass du das Auto gar nicht ausgemacht hast.“

„Oh“, sagte Mary und wurde ein wenig rot.

Es war nur ein kurzer Weg zurück zum Haus. Mary kümmerte sich nicht besonders um die Geschwindigkeitsbegrenzungen und ich musste mich an meinem Handgriff festhalten. Als wir am Haus ankamen, war der einzige Streifenwagen, der noch da war, der von Chasity. Wir öffneten die Tür und einen Sekundenbruchteil blieb mein Herz stehen, weil vor meinem geistigen Augen die Schlampen uns wieder auflauerten.

„Meine Güte“, murmelte Mary. Sie hatte offenbar den gleichen Gedanken wie ich gehabt. Verdammt nochmal, so ging das nicht weiter!

Ich nahm Marys Hand und drückte sie. Sie lächelte mich an und wir gingen ins Haus. Das Licht funktionierte wieder und wir konnten leises Stöhnen aus dem Wohnzimmer hören. Wir fanden Allison auf Desiree, die beiden Schlampen rieben sich gegenseitig leidenschaftlich.

„Mi sirenita!“ stöhnte Desiree. Ihre dunkelhäutigen Hände fuhren über Allisons festen weißen Knackarsch, während Allison sie fickte. „Yo estoy correrse!“

„Oh, mir kommt es auch“, keuchte Allison.

„Na, habt ihr Spaß?“ fragte ich und schlug auf Allisons Arsch.

„Oh Meister“, kreischte Allison. Sie fiel hin, als sie versuchte, von der Couch aufzustehen. Dann kam sie wieder auf die Füße und umarmte mich.

Ich hielt sie fest. „Du bist ja mit getrocknetem Sperma bedeckt, Schlampe!“ Beide Mädchen hatten versaute Fotzen und Streifen aus getrocknetem Saft auf ihren Brüsten und den Bäuchen und Lippen. „Offenbar haben sich die Polizisten reichlich bedient.“

„Oh, absolut, Meister“, schnurrte Desiree.

„Wo sind die anderen Schlampen?“ fragte Mary.

„Violet, Chasity und Fiona zählen das Geld. Schwester Fotzenlappen ist im Wandschrank.“ Allison schüttelte sich vor Furcht.

„Lillian ist noch nicht gekommen?“ fragte ich.

Allison zog die Augenbrauen hoch. „Wer?“

„Ja, wer ist das?“ fragte Mary.

„Das Mädchen von Hot Topic.“ Sowohl Mary als auch Allison nickten mir mit breitem Lächeln zustimmend zu. „Ich habe sie heute wieder in der Mall getroffen.“

„Und du hast sie zur Sex-Sklavin gemacht?“ fragte Mary.

„Genau.“ Ich musste lächeln, als ich daran dachte, wie eng ihre Fotze auf meinem Schwanz gewesen war.

„Desiree, hol Fiona und bring sie zum Good Sam. Sie soll bei Korina bleiben. Xiu bringst du mit zurück“, ordnete Mary an. „Und sag Violet und Chasity, dass sie mit dem Geldzählen aufhören sollen. Das hat Zeit bis morgen. Eine von den beiden muss hier auf Lillian warten. Allison, zeig du Thamina alles und geh duschen. Wenn Mark und ich mit Lilith fertig sind, dann kannst du zu uns ins Bett kommen. Ich glaube, Mark hat dir etwas versprochen.“ Wow! Das hatte ich völlig vergessen. Es schien schon eine Ewigkeit her zu sein und nicht erst heut Morgen.

Wir fanden Lilith, die auf unserem Bett wartete. Sie hatte das durchsichtige Hemdchen eines Babydoll an. Ein Höschen trug sie nicht. Ihr silberner Busch war von Säften bedeckt. Sie lächelte verdorben und Lust schwang durch das Zimmer und traf mich.

„Wir müssen reden, Lilith“, sagte Mary. Sie atmete schwer. Ihre Nippel ließen beinahe ihre Bluse platzen. Dann zog sie sich die Bluse über den Kopf.

„Dann lasst uns reden“, schnurrte Lilith und streckte ihre Arme aus.

Mein Hemd war weg und ich pellte meine Jeans herunter, während Mary ihren Rock öffnete. Die Gegenwart von Lilith war unwiderstehlich. Als ich nackt war, lag Mary schon auf dem Bett und küsste Lilith. Dabei rieb sie ihre Fotze an Liliths Oberschenkel und zuckte schon im ersten Orgasmus. Ich kletterte auf der anderen Seite neben Lilith. Ihre warme Hand griff nach meinem Schwanz und sie wichste mich zweimal. Schon spritze ich mein Sperma über ihren Bauch.

„Du hast gesagt, dass wir noch einen Segen übrig haben?“ fragte Mary. Sie beugte sich vor und leckte einen meiner Spermakleckse von Liliths Babydoll. „Was ist denn ein Segen?“

„Eine Bitte“, antwortete Lilith. „Als du mich gerufen hast, haben wir einen Pakt abgeschlossen. Ich kann meine Macht dreimal auf deinen Wunsch hin anwenden.“ Lilith beugte ihren Kopf zu Mary und sie saugte an ihrem Nippel.

„Oh verdammt, das ist toll!“ keuchte Mary und wieder schüttelte sie sich und es kam ihr. „Heilige Scheiße!“

„Bekomme ich auch Segen?“ fragte ich. „Schließlich war es mein Kristall.“ Mein Schwanz war hart und sie hatte mir ihren Arsch hingedreht. Ich drückte nach vorne und ich fand ihre nasse Fotze. Ich glitt in die engste, seidigste, nasseste Fotze, in der ich je gesteckt hatte. Es kam mir sofort und mein Sperma überflutete ihre Fotze. Ich fickte die Dämonin einfach weiter, weil mein Schwanz hart blieb.

„Nein“, stöhnte Lilith. Ihre Hüften passten sich meinem Ficken an. „Nur die Person, die den Kristall benutzt, bekommt die Segen.“

Lilith zog sich von meinem Schwanz herunter und drückte Mary auf den Rücken. Dann tauchte sie in ihre Fotze und leckte meine Verlobte wie wild. Mary stöhnte laut. Immer wieder kam es ihr auf Liliths Mund. Ich kniete mich hinter Lilith und schob ihr meinen Schwanz wieder in ihre Dämonenfotze und wieder kam auch ich.

„Verdammt!“ keuchte ich, als Liliths Muschi mir scheinbar das Sperma aus dem Schwanz saugte.

„Und was ist der Preis, den ich für einen Segen zahlen muss?“ fragte Mary zwischen zwei Orgasmen.

„Es gibt keinen Preis“, antwortete Lilith. Ihr Gesicht war von Marys Saft ganz klebrig. „Jemand anderer hat den Preis bezahlt. In dem Kristall war eine Seele eingeschlossen.“

„Das ist ja irre!“ keuchte Mary und wand sich auf Liliths Zunge. „Gibt es eine Möglichkeit, eine der Nonnen zu erkennen?“

„Oh ja“, sagte Lilith. „Hexer können eine Menge Dinge tun. Sie müssen nur die Rituale und die entsprechenden Sprüche kennen.“

„Oh Scheiße, leck mich weiter“, keuchte Mary. „Heilige Scheiße, das ist wirklich irre. Ihre Zunge ist so unglaublich!“ Mary kam es schon wieder. Sie verkrampfte sich auf Liliths Mund. „Können wir denn unsere Schlampen immun gegen diese Nonnen machen?“

„Ja, ja“, sagte Lilith und sie stöhnte. „Das kann ich euch zeigen und auch noch mehr. Das kostet aber einen Preis.“

„Und was für einen Preis?“ fragte ich und fickte sie hart. Ihre Fotze zog sich auf meinem Schwanz zusammen, als es ihr auch kam und ich spritzte ein drittes Mal in sie hinein.

„Die Nonne!“ sagte Lilith. „Ich will sie ficken!“

„Was?“ fragte Mary. „Das ist alles?“

„Ja, ihr lasst mich Schwester Fotzenlappen ficken und ich bringe euch Sachen bei, die die Menschen schon seit langer Zeit nicht mehr beherrschen.“

„Okay“, keuchte Mary. „Ich komme schon wieder!“ Und so ging es mir auch. Ich kam zum vierten Mal in ihrer Dämonenmuschi.

Lilith kroch an Marys Körper hoch und küsste sie auf die Lippen. „Dann haben wir jetzt einen Vertrag!“ erklärte Lilith und damit verschwand sie. Ich fiel nach vorne auf Mary.

Ich rollte von ihr herunter und wir lagen beide keuchend da. Keiner von uns beiden war in so kurzer Zeit jemals so oft gekommen. Wir hatten nur ein paar Minuten gefickt, aber der Körper von Lilith war wie flüssiges Feuer. Ich war völlig fertig. Mary kuschelte sich an mich und wir lagen einfach nur erschöpft nebeneinander. Wir hörten Quietschen von Bodendielen. Jemand ging die Treppe nach oben. Dann gingen die Schritte über den Flur und dann öffnete sich die Schlafzimmertür. Lilith schlenderte herein. Sie hatte Schwester Fotzenlappen über die Schulter gelegt.

Lilith warf Schwester Fotzenlappen auf den Boden. Die Bitch trug noch immer Handschellen. Ich fragte mich, warum Lilith wohl die Nonne ficken wollte. Ich versuchte nachzudenken, aber Liliths Lust füllte meinen Kopf und vertrieb jeden anderen Gedanken. Mein Schwanz war wieder hart. Lilith fuhr mit einer Hand in ihren Schritt und sie drückte auf ihren Kitzler. Sie rollte ihn zwischen ihren Fingern. Und er fing an zu wachsen, er schwoll immer weiter an, bis ein 30 cm langer Schwanz zwischen ihren Beinen hing. Heilige Scheiße, wie hatte sie denn das gemacht?

„Oh, bitte, mach das nicht“, bettelte Schwester Fotzenlappen. Lilith schlug ihr auf den Arsch und sie heulte vor Schmerz.

Ich spürte an meinem Oberschenkel, wie Marys Fotze immer nasser wurde. Ihre Hand fand meinen Schwanz und sie fing an, mich zu wichsen. Wir sahen beide zu, wie der hermaphroditische Dämon Schwester Fotzenlappen herumdrehte, so dass sie jetzt auf den Knien lag. Dann kniete sich Lilith hinter die Nonne und schob ihr den Schwanz in die Fotze und fing an, sie hart zu ficken.

„Ohh, das ist schön“, stöhnte Lilith. „Ich ficke so selten jemanden.“ Es war ein langsamer Fick, langsam und gleichmäßig. „Also, wenn ihr eine Nonne erkennen wollt, dann müsst ihr das Ritual von Mowdah anwenden. Dafür müsst ihr ein Geschwisterteil ficken. Wenn der Geschwisterteil gekommen ist, dann müsst ihr die Körperflüssigkeit in eure Augen reiben und Mowdah sagen.“

„Ich muss dafür meine Schwester ficken?“ fragte Mary. Sie klang ein wenig heikel. Ich stellte mir meine Schwester Antsy vor. Ich hatte sie seit fünf Jahren nicht gesehen. Da war sie ein dürres Mädchen gewesen, das mit nacktem Arsch durch die Wohnung gerannt war und sich Sorgen Machte, dass sie keine Titten kriegte. Mein Verhältnis zu ihr war süß und unschuldig gewesen und der Gedanke daran, diese Unschuld zu beenden, sorgte dafür, dass ich einen erneuten Lustschub bekam.

„Genau“, keuchte Lilith. „Ihr müsst das Verhältnis zwischen Geschwistern zerbrechen. Ich sehe, dass Mark eine Schwester hat und du, Mary hast sogar zwei Schwestern. Wie schön für dich.“ Mary schüttelte sich, als Lilith sich die Lippen leckte.

„Okay“, sagte ich und nickte. Ich konnte meine Schwester ficken, aber Mary schien von der Idee ziemlich verstört zu sein.

„Damit eure Leibeigenen Immun werden, braucht ihr das Ritual von Zimmah“, sagte Lilith. Sie wurde jetzt schneller, ihre Fingernägel kratzten über den Rücken von Fotzenlappen und hinterließen rote Kratzer. Jedes Mal, wenn Lilith bis zum Anschlag in Fotzenlappen steckte, drückte sich ihr Schoß gegen den wunden Arsch von Fotzenlappen und sie stöhnte auf. „Mark muss mit seiner Mutter ficken und seine Leibeigenen müssen anschließend die gemischten Flüssigkeiten aus ihrer Fotze trinken. Dabei muss er Zimmah sagen.“

„Was?“ fragte ich. Diesmal fühlte ich mich ein wenig verstört.

„Oh ja, dieses Ritual erfordert die köstlichste aller Perversionen“ sagte Lilith. „Ihr müsst euch das Fleisch nehmen, aus dem ihr mit eurer Lust gekommen seid.“

Es war eine Sache, eine Schwester zu ficken, aber meine Mama… Ich stellte sie mir vor. Sie war immer noch attraktiv, selbst in ihren Vierzigern. Und dann kamen Erinnerungen an die Zeit, in der ich vielleicht zwölf oder dreizehn gewesen war. Ich erinnerte mich daran, wie geil ich auf meine Mama gewesen war, als ich die Masturbation entdeckt hatte. Sie war wahrscheinlich die erste Frau, zu der ich mich gewichst hatte und ich wichste eine Menge, dabei dachte ich gerne an ihre Brüste und an ihren Arsch. Und nachdem sie mich beim Masturbieren erwischt hatte wie ich daran gedacht hatte, sie einfach zu ficken. Sie war noch toll in Form. Sie trainierte fleißig und war immer wunderschön gewesen. Als ich dann älter geworden war, hatten sich meine Fantasien mehr und mehr den Mädchen an meiner Schule und meinen Lehrerinnen zugewendet. Liliths Worte hatten meine Lust neu entfacht. Ich konnte mir meine Mama im Bett mit mir und Mary vorstellen und wie beide mich befriedigten.

„Es gibt aber einen Haken“, sagte Lilith. „Die Kräfte eines männlichen Hexer funktionieren bei seiner Mutter und die einer Frau funktionieren nicht bei ihrem Vater. Du musst sie also entweder verführen oder vergewaltigen.“ Lilith leckte ihre Lippen. „Das ist deine Wahl, Mark. Ich schlage vor, dass du sie vergewaltigst. Ich bin nicht sicher, ob du ohne deine Kräfte eine Frau verführen könntest.“

„Dann müsste ich meinen Vater ficken?“ fragte Mary schüchtern.

„Du hast keine Leibeigenen“, erklärte Lilith. „Mark kann mit seinen Kräften die Gedanken eines Menschen umschreiben. Er kann ihre Erinnerungen verändern und wie sie über Dinge denken. Er verändert ihre Persönlichkeiten. Deine Kräfte senken einfach nur die Hemmungen einer Frau und erhöht ihre Begierden bis zu dem Punkt, dass sie all die perversen Sachen mit dir machen, die du gerne hast Du veränderst sie nicht. Jede der Frauen wird die Tatsache, dass sie mit dir fickt irgendwie anders begründen. Einige werden zum Beispiel denken, dass sie einfach die Kontrolle verloren haben. Andere werden vielleicht glauben, dass du ihnen irgendwelche Drogen gegeben hast.“

„Oh“, sagte Mary und das klang ein wenig enttäuscht.

„Meine Leibeigenen sind auch deine Leibeigenen, Mare“, sagte ich und sie lächelte mich dankbar an.

Lilith keuchte jetzt laut. Sie fickte die Fotze von Fotzenlappen hart und schnell. Liliths Titten schwangen unter ihrem Babydoll und Fotzenlappen weinte vor Schmerz an ihrem Arsch. „Oh, ihre Fotze fühlt sich auf meinem Schwanz richtig gut an!“ schnurrte Lilith. „Nimm ihn! Nimm meinen harten Schwanz!“ Lust explodierte im Zimmer und Lilith stieß einen marlerschütternden Schrei aus, als es ihr in der Fotze der Nonne kam.

Lilith fiel nach hinten. Sie lag jetzt auf dem Boden. Ihr Schwanz war weg und nur noch ein kleiner Kitzler. Fotzenlappen schluchzte vor Schmerzen, während gleichzeitig schwarzes Sperma aus ihrer Muschi lief. „Wie hast du diesen Schwanz gemacht?“ wollte Mary wissen und schaute neugierig auf Liliths Schoß.

„Ich habe ihn vor vielen, vielen Jahren gemacht“, murmelte Lilith. „Aber mein Mann… Nun, er mochte es nicht, dass ich einen Schwanz habe. Ich glaube, er war neidisch auf die Größe und deswegen hat er Gott davon überzeugt, dass er ihm eine gehorsamere Frau machen sollte. Und ich wurde verflucht. Und heute brauche ich die bewusste Einwilligung von jemandem, damit ich ihn benutzen kann.“

„Fotzenlappen hat dir die Einwilligung aber nicht gegeben“, sagte Mary.

„Ja, aber sie gehört euch, also habe ich eure Erlaubnis gebraucht.“ Lilith schaute Mary an und dann mich. „Möchtest du vielleicht gerne einen Schwanz habe? Das wäre dein dritter Wunsch.“

Ein Bild von Mary mit einem Schwanz schoss mir in den Kopf. Gott, ich hoffte, dass sie das nicht wollte. Ich war nicht sicher, ob ich meiner Verlobten umgehen konnte, wenn sie einen Schwanz hatte. „Nein“, sagte Mary und ich versuchte, nicht vor Erleichterung zu seufzen.

„Nein, du würdest sicher nicht den gleichen Fehler machen wie ich“, seufzte Lilith. Sie schaute mich an. Ihre Augen waren voller Zorn und dann war da wieder reine Lust.

Angst umklammerte mein Herz. Hasste Lilith mich? Hasste sie Männer? Irgendwie hatte ich in ihrem Blick etwas erkannt. Plötzlich war ich mir nicht mehr sicher, dass ich sie gerne bei mir haben wollte.

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

„Ramiel…“

Die Stimme flüsterte aus dem himmlischen Chor, gerade laut genug, dass man sie über das Gotteslob hinweg hören konnte. Die Stimme kam vom Erzengel Gabriel. Er rief mich zu sich. Auf einem Lichtstrahl fuhr ich hinab auf die Erde.

Ich fand Gabriel auf seiner Priesterin. Sie war eine attraktive Frau, sie schien etwa achtzehn Jahre alt zu sein, aber ich sah ihr wirkliches Alter, 44. Eine von Gabriels Gaben an seine Priesterinnen war ewige Jugend. Sie hatte schmutzigblondes Haar, das unter ihrem weißen Schleier hervorquoll und blaue Augen, die ohne Blick an die Decke starrten. Sie war zu verloren in der Lust von Gabriels Berührung, der Ekstase, als dass sie etwas bemerkt hätte.

Meine Männlichkeit wurde hart und ich beneidete Gabriel und seine Priesterin. Gott hatte schon vor langer Zeit erklärt, dass es Sünde war, wenn ein Engel einer Sterblichen beiwohnte. Das war unsere größte Versuchung und so viele Engel waren in diese Sünde gefallen und dafür bestraft worden, indem sie in den Abgrund zu Lucifer geworfen worden waren. Ich konnte gut verstehen, wieso meine Brüder so leicht in diese spezielle Sünde fallen konnten. Der Körper von Schwester Theodora war so verlockend. Ich konnte durch ihren grauen Habit sehen und sah ihre runden Brüste und ihre harten Nippel, das blonde Fellchen, das die nassen Schamlippen ihrer Weiblichkeit bedeckte. Meine Männlichkeit tat weh, so dringend wollte sie sie kennenlernen.

Die einzige Gelegenheit, zu der ein Engel bei einer Sterblichen liegen durfte, war, wenn es sich um eine Priesterin handelte und dann auch nur, um ihr in ihrer heiligen Mission zu helfen. In diesen Tagen bedeutete das, dass Gabriel ihnen die Ekstase geben durfte. Er gab ihnen damit eine neue Bestimmung. Ich sah das goldene Band ihres Lebens, das von ihr weg in die Zukunft führte, ich sah die silbernen Bänder, die Gabriel anordnete, um Schwester Theodora auf ihrer Mission zu führen. Goldene Bänder waren die Priesterinnen, silberne Bänder waren Sterbliche, schwarze Bänder waren Leibeigene und rote Bänder waren Hexer.

Endlich war Gabriel sowohl damit fertig, ihre Zukunft neu auszurichten als auch seine Lust an ihr zu befriedigen. Er stand auf und drehte sich zu mir. Er sah aus wie ein attraktiver Mann, muskulös wie eine dieser griechischen Statuen. Eine einfach weiße Tunika bedeckte seine Nacktheit und ein goldenes Schwert erschien an seiner Seite, das Schwert eines Erzengels. Ich hatte mein eigenes Schwert, silbern mit Saphiren, das Schwert eines Dominion.

„Ramiel“, begrüßte mich Gabriel. „Schwester Louise Afra ist von Hexern gefangen worden. Lilith ist herbeigerufen worden und sie gibt Hilfe. Der Succubus wird die Hexer gegen meine Priesterin bewaffnen.“

Ich nickte verstehend. Wenn so etwas geschah, dann musste die Priesterin mit subtileren Methoden als einfachem Exorzismus vorgehen. „Dann soll ich also Theodora ausbilden.“

„Ja, Bruder“, sagte Gabriel. Er nahm Theodoras goldenes Band und folgte ihm ein paar Stunden weit, bis es auf ein silbernes traf. „Sie muss auf diese Sterbliche das Gebet von Avvah anwenden.“

Ich nahm das Band und untersuchte das Leben der Sterblichen. Ich schaute mir die Vergangenheit und die Zukunft an. Sowohl in der Vergangenheit als auch in der Zukunft gab es Kreuzungen mit dem roten Band eines Hexers. Diese Sterbliche stand eng zu einem Hexer und das Gebet von Avvah würde sie zu einer Falle machen, die selbst die Kräfte eines Hexers nicht erkennen konnte. Die zwei roten Bänder waren miteinander verflochten. Sie waren Liebhaber. Aber das Gebet von Avvah würde einen Keil zwischen beide treiben. Das war ein guter Plan. Wenn die beiden Hexer getrennt waren, konnte man sie besser bekämpfen.

„Es gibt noch etwas“, sagte Gabriel. „Folge Theodoras Band in die Vergangenheit.“

Ich folgte ihrem goldenen Band in die Vergangenheit, über die dreizehn Jahre, in denen sie Priesterin gewesen war, weiter zurück in die Zeit, in der sie eine Leibeigene gewesen war. Ich fand das Band, das zu Schwester Louise gehörte, die Theodora gerettet hatte. Louises Band war nicht mehr golden sondern schwarz wie das Band einer Leibeigenen. Ich folgte Theodoras Band weiter in die Vergangenheit in die Zeit, bevor sie eine Leibeigene gewesen war. Dort war es mit dem Band eines anderen Sterblichen verflochten, ihres Ehemannes und Liebhabers. Drei neue Bänder waren aus dieser Verbindung hervorgegangen, drei Kinder. Zwei waren silbern, aber eines war rot. Ein Hexer!

„Das darf sie nicht wissen“, sagte Gabriel. „Theodora darf nicht wissen, dass ihre Tochter eine Hexerin ist, bis die Zeit dafür da ist.“

„Aber wir können doch keine Mutter auf ihr eigenes Kind hetzen!“ sagte ich.

„Es gibt aber niemand anderen“, sagte Gabriel. „Jedenfalls nicht in Nordamerika. Unsere Ressourcen waren hier immer schon sehr begrenzt. Es gibt einen Hexer in Europa und zwei in Afrika.

„Aber es ist nicht richtig, es ihr nicht zu sagen.“

Gabriel fixierte mich mit seinen rubinroten Augen. „DU hast deine Befehle Ramiel.“

Als er auf einem Lichtstrahl wieder in den himmlischen Chor aufgefahren war, starrte ich auf den Boden.

To be continued…

Click here for Kapitel 13

The Devil’s Pact Chapter 42: Dreams

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Chapter 42: Dreams

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2013, 2014


Story Codes: Male/Female, Male/Females, Female/Female, Male/Female/Teen female, Male/Teen female, Hermaphrodites/Female, Mind Control, Magic, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Incest, First, Ass to Pussy, Ass to Mouth, Rimming, Wedded Lust, Pregnant, Lactation, Wife

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

Comments are very welcome. I would like all criticism, positive and negative, so long as its
constructive, and feedback is very appreciated. 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 41.



General Olmos’s assassination of Governor Holt, and the subsequent massacre of the Governor’s supporters, was the first of many atrocities committed by the Tyrants. The fact that they had General Olmos hung does not exculpate the Tyrants for the heinous act the General had committed in their names. For all we know, the Tyrants ordered the massacre, and placed the blame solely on General Olmos to maintain their benevolent appearance to the masses. Either way, the outcome benefited the tyrants: the Governors of New Hampshire, Florida, North Dakota, Maryland, and Alaska capitulated to the Tyrants the next day, ending the last governmental resistance in the United States.

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

Thursday, November 7th, 2013 – Mark Glassner – Children’s Hospital, Omaha, NE

Every Thursday, Mary and I traveled to a random children’s hospital in America and spent the day healing all the children stricken with terminal diseases we could. It was the most rewarding thing in the world; all the credit goes to Mary for the idea.

I entered the next sick child’s room; the little boy looked so pale as he lay on his tiny hospital bed, festooned with wires monitoring his vitals. He was young, maybe only four, and dying of a rare form of leukemia known as JMML. It was an acronym for a bunch of words I couldn’t pronounce. A beautiful woman in her early forties sat beside his bed, clutching his tiny hand. Her eyes lit up for joy when she saw me enter the room with my bodyguards.

“My Lord,” she gasped, falling to her knees in worship. “Thank you for your generosity!”

Her face shone with hope and, even without make-up, her dusky features were beautiful. She was middle-eastern, a desert rose, and my cock stirred at the sight of her on her knees. You could always count on a grateful mother to relieve some tension.

“What is his name?” I asked, walking to her son.

“Abbas,” she answered. “After his father, he…” She teared up with grief and I nodded; reaching out to place a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“A beautiful woman like you shouldn’t be crying,” I told her and she flushed. “What’s your name.”

“Shabnab. But everyone calls me Shay.” She wiped at her tears and tried to smile.

With one hand I held hers and with the other her son’s. I concentrated on the boy being well and said in a commanding voice, “Tsariy!” Scarlet light engulfed her son and she tensed with anxiety. Power drained out of me, but I had huge reserves to tap. I could draw on the life-force of every person bound to me by the Zimmah spell.

The light faded, and the little boy opened his eyes. “Maman!” the boy exclaimed, sitting up and smiling and bouncing on his bed. I couldn’t help smiling at his enthusiasm.

Shay hugged her son, speaking to him in a rapid, musical language—Arabic or Farsi I guessed. She kissed him over and over and the boy tried to wiggle away from her, embarrassed by her affection. She turned to me, beaming, “Thank you, my Lord!”

I grabbed her hand and led her towards the bathroom. “What?” she asked in confusion.

“You wanted to thank me,” I told her. “51 will watch your son.”

She flushed and shivered. “Of course, my Lord.”

51 was my chief bodyguard, and often protected me personally. Six weeks ago we survived Brandon’s attack together. She sat on the bed, giving the boy a hug and smiling motherly at him. 51 had recently found out she was pregnant, and she and her husband were both excited by the news. I was looking forward to drinking her milk from those lovely, ebony breasts.

Inside the bathroom I ordered her to strip. She pulled off her frumpy sweater and the black t-shirt she wore underneath. She had a large pair of breasts that sagged a bit when she freed them from her bra; her areolas were huge, brown, with fat nipples that rose proudly up. Her loose skirt came off and she peeled out of dark pantyhose and white panties. Her bush was black as night and neatly trimmed, surrounding fat pussy lips. I could just see a hint of wet pink between her labias and my cock throbbed to experience her juicy depths.

“Thank you so much,” she breathed as I bent her over the sink.

Her cunt was wet as I plunged into her. She was loose, but warm and silky, and I fucked her hard. Her back was beautiful, her skin the color of dark cream, and I traced her spine. Her ass was a little plump, and jiggled as I pounded her. She looked over her shoulders at me and moaned wantonly.

“If you’re that loud your son will hear us,” I cautioned her, though I was pleased my cock elicited such a passionate response.

She flushed, her cunt nicely squeezing on my cock. She bit her lip, stifling her moan as I pounded her like a jackhammer. In the mirror, I could see her large tits as they swayed heavily. I reached around her and gave her breast a nice squeeze, enjoying the firm feel and silky skin. She had a spicy, cinnamon scent in her lustrious hair.

“Fuck you are one hot MILF!” I groaned. “You should fuck any young man that catches your eye!”

“I should,” she gasped in realization as the command sank in. “I’ve been so lonely since Fereydoon died.”

God, her tit felt great in my hand, soft and pliant. I pulled out of her and spun her around, sitting her plump ass on the sink. I buried my face into her big tits and plowed into her cunt. I enjoyed her heavy melons on my cheeks, smelling her sweat and that wonderful, cinnamon scent as her cunt massaged my cock. Her hips writhed, grinding her clit into my groin every time I buried into her.

She screamed wordlessly as she came, her cunt squeezing my cock. I gripped her ass, and thrust hard into her. My body tensed and I spilled my cum inside her cunt. I thrust a few more times, squeezing out the last few drops.

I rested with my face buried between her mounts, breathing heavily. She cradled my head, rocking slightly. “Thank you, My Lord,” she whispered. “For saving my son.”

I looked up; tears brimmed in her dark eyes, so I kissed her gently on the lips. “Your Gods love you,” I answered, pulling away, buttoning up my pants. “Go be with your son.”

She wiped at her tears, then bent down to pick up her panties.

I swept out of the hospital room, and came upon quite the lovely sight. Xiu, my busty Asian slut, was leaning against the wall dressed in a slutty nurse’s outfit. The top was undone and her round breasts hung out, obscenely stretched as the slut pulled on both of her nipple piercings. On the floor, one of the hospital’s nurses had her head buried beneath Xiu’s white miniskirt, vigorously eating Xiu’s pussy out.

“Master,” moaned Xiu. “Nurse Karishma was very insistent on eating my pussy! I hope that’s alright!”

My cock hardened at the sight. “More than alright, slut.”

The nurse had dusky-red skin and raven black hair. Her name sounded Indian – from India – and her skin and hair gave credence to that. I could see flashes of her dark eyes as she eagerly devoured the flood of tangy juices. Xiu’s almond-shaped eyes rolled into the back of her head as she shuddered on the slutty nurse’s face.

“Oh wow,” she purred, a contented smile playing on her lips.

“I think you should return the favor,” I whispered in Xiu’s ears. “Get down on your hands and knees and eat her ass out.”

Xiu gave me a passionate kiss; I could taste the orange she had been eating earlier. “You always have the best ideas, Master.”

“I know,” I smiled, giving her ass a squeeze.

Nurse Karishma remained kneeling on the ground as Xiu dropped behind her. The slut pulled the nurse’s lilac scrubs off her round ass. She wore no panties; her pussy shaved and glistening, a pink gash surrounded by dusky-red flesh. My Asian slut parted her cheeks and buried her face deep in the nurse’s delectable ass.

“Oh yes,” she moaned in a delightful, Hindi accent, that sounded like silk rubbing against my ears. “Eat my backdoor!”

Xiu’s own backdoor peeked out from beneath her white miniskirt. I knelt behind her and roughly shoved my unlubed cock up her ass. She gave a throaty moan. Xiu was a masochist, and she loved to be fucked hard in the butt as painfully as possible. I fucked her like the piston inside an engine and my foot was stepping hard on the accelerator.

Her grunts of pain and pleasure filled the hallway. I could smell her arousal grow, and I reached around her waist and felt the juices running down her thighs. She was loving every second of my brutal ass-fucking.

“Eat my ass!” the nurse gasped. “You disgusting slut! Revel in it, untouchable! Degrade yourself!”

Xiu’s ass spasmed on my cock! She screamed, cumming hard.

“What a filthy whore!” I groaned, and spanked her ass hard, a stinging slap that left my own hand smarting.

Xiu bucked harder between us, the spanking spurring her orgasm to higher levels of intensity. Her ass squeezed and pulsed about my cock, begging for a load of my cum. I landed a second slap on her ass, leaving a large, red handprint burning on her light-olive skin.

“I’m cumming!” moaned the nurse. “You disgusting, untouchable whore! You made me cum by eating my filthy ass!”

Xiu lifted her face up, looking over her shoulder at me. “Cum in my abused ass, Master!” she begged. “I need it!”

“Because you’re a filthy slut?” I demanded.

“The filthiest!”

I blasted her ass. Every muscle in my body tensed as I released my climax into the slut. I buried into her, letting her convulsing ass milk the last drops of cum out of my balls. I savored my release and the feel of her tight ass for a minute, before I pulled out. Her asshole gaped open, leaking frothy cum out.

“May I clean your cock, my Lord?” Nurse Karishma asked demurely. She had a beautiful face, mature, in her early thirties. Her dark eyes had a hungry look and her lips bore a sultry smile.

“Do it, slut,” I ordered.

She crawled on her hands and knees, her long, black hair dragging on the hospital’s floor. She grasped my cock, taking a long, slow lick up my shaft, savoring the sour flavor of Xiu’s ass. Her tongue scooped up a drop of cum from my urethra, then slid back down my shaft.

“My Lord, if I am not being too presumptuous, I would like to ask a boon of you,” she murmured between licks.

“What, slut?” I asked the nurse.

“I want to serve you,” she answered. “Use me for your pleasure! Make me one of your maids!” Her mouth engulfed my cock and she deep-throated me in one, smooth motion. She hummed and swallowed, massaging my cock with wonderful sensations.

“You’re quite talented,” I moaned. “I think we can find a place for you.”

She popped off my cock, beaming up at me. “Thank you, my Lord!”

Xiu smacked her ass. “Don’t stop sucking his cock, whore!”

“Sorry!” she gasped, and engulfed my cock.

Xiu grasped the nurse’s head, giving me an apologetic glance, then my slut started fucking the woman’s face up and down on my cock. “I’ll see her properly trained, Master.”

“Good,” I moaned.

Watching Xiu force Karishma’s face on my cock brought me to a quick boil and I flooded her lips! Xiu quickly pulled her off my cock, and shoved her tongue inside the nurse’s mouth, eager to taste my cum.

“Whose the next child I’m healing?” I asked Xiu.

She broke the kiss, cum on her lips. “Jenny Peck, room 304.”

Jenny Peck was fifteen, and in desperate need of a lung transplant because of her Cystic Fibrosis. Her parents sat on one side of her hospital bed, watching their daughter as a respirator breathed for her. The mother was blonde, with a heart-shaped face and plump lips, and I smiled at her.

“My God,” her husband murmured and bowed.

“Oh, thank you,” the wife said in relief and knelt before me. “The doctors don’t think she has long to live.”

Her mouth was so close to my cock. I wanted to pull it out and have her suck on it. But her daughter was dying, so that could wait. I stepped around her and grabbed Jenny’s hand. She was harder to heal than Abbas, her lungs, liver and pancreas were all damaged by her condition. The color returned to her skin and a beautiful smile appeared on her lips.

“Oh my baby,” her father cried, hugging her.

“You healed her,” the mother whispered.

I smiled at her and unzipped my pants. She licked her lips, eyeing my hard cock. She glanced up at me – her eyes full of worship and her tongue pursed between red lips – then she leaned over and sucked the head of my cock into her lips.

“Good,” I murmured, enjoying her lips as she slowly bobbed her head.

“Mom!” Jenny gasped as her dad let out a strangled, “Irene!”

I glanced at them, shock painting their faces. “It’s okay. Irene is just worshiping me. You should be proud and happy for her.” I smiled as my commands sank in, and the husband and daughter relaxed.

The daughter was actually quite pretty now that the color had returned to her face, cheeks flushing and eyes sparkling as she watched her mother blow me. She looked a lot like her mother, although the eyes were different: the mother’s were green, the daughter’s blue. Dimples appeared in the thin cotton of her hospital gown as her nipples grew with arousal, fanning my lust.

“Have you ever had sex, Jenny?” I asked.

“No,” she answered. Her father nudged her. “I mean, no my Lord.”

Irene sucked harder, her hands cupping my balls. I gripped her blonde hair ,and started to slowly fuck her mouth. “Your wife gives great head.”

He smiled a little foolishly. “I’ve never had complaints, my Lord.”

I tried to force my cock down her throat and she stiffened. “Relax, slut,” I groaned. “Relax your throat so I can fuck your mouth!”

She relaxed and I forced my cock down her throat. Gripping her head between my hands, I fucked her vigorously. Her throat was tight, and felt wonderful on my cock. My balls slapped her chin, golden curls spilling through my clenched fingers. Jenny’s deep blue eyes were wide as she watched her mother be my whore.

“Let’s see those tits, Jenny,” I moaned.

“Um, okay, sure,” she muttered, looking away in embarrassment.

“What do you say,” her father admonished.

“Right, yes, my Lord,” Jenny sheepishly answered.

“I’m sorry, my daughter never learned proper manners, my Lord.” He grimaced. “We went easy on her because of her… Well, I guess we don’t have to anymore.”

She pulled her hospital gown over her head, exposing pale, budding breasts topped with dark-pink nipples. The nipples were so small, they were like little buttons. “I can always forgive a pretty, young girl,” I said, feasting on her youthful charms. “Let’s see your cunt.”

“Yes, my Lord,” she blushed, hooking her fingers through the waistband of her cotton panties, and pulled them off her coltish legs.

I came in her mother’s mouth as I saw her tight slit surrounded by golden curls. I let go of Irene, and she pulled off my cock, swallowing most of my large load. A glob of white spunk fell out of the corner of her mouth onto her thick sweater, and soaked into the fabric.

I grabbed Irene’s hand, and pulled the mother to her feet, turning her to face her daughter. “Isn’t she beautiful?” I asked her as I reached down to fondle her plump ass through her long, dark skirt.

“She’s my angel,” Irene whispered.

“Have you ever thought about spreading her pale thighs and tasting her innocent treasure?”

“I don’t under…oh.” Irene flushed crimson. “No.”

“Why not? Look at how beautiful her cunt is, surrounded by that forest of golden curls. I’m gonna fuck her; pop her cherry. Why don’t you use your mouth and get her nice and ready for me.”

“I…yes, my Lord,” she breathed, licking her lips and reaching out to stroke her daughter’s legs. “Momma will get you all wet and ready for him.”

“Just bend over and pull her to you,” I instructed as I rubbed her ass through her skirt.

She bent over the foot of the hospital bed, pulled her daughter to her, and spread her thighs. Her face was inches away and she breathed her daughter’s scent in, before burying her face into Jenny’s fresh snatch.

“Oh fuck!” Jenny gasped.

“Language, young lady,” reprimanded her dad.

“Really, dad?” Jenny rolled her eyes at her dad and shook her head.

I hiked up Irene’s skirt and was delighted to find her panty-free. A true believer. Her cunt was shaved save for a strip of blonde above her clit. But it wasn’t her pussy I was interested in. I spread her asscheeks opened and fingered her puckered hole.

“Ever been fucked in the ass?” I asked as I shoved a finger past the tight sphincter into her velvety depths.

“No, my Lord!” she squeaked as I violated her ass.

“Why haven’t you ever let your husband fuck your ass?”

“It’s dirty,” she answered.

I pushed the head of my wet cock against her asshole and pushed in. She moaned, squeezing tight on my ass as I sank in. I looked at her husband and told him, “When I’m done, your wife will be more than happy to give you sloppy seconds.” I gave her ass a slap. “Right, Irene?”

“Oh…um…yes, dear!” she panted, her voice tight with pleasure. “I’d be…uhhh…thrilled to!”

Her ass was tight and warm as I reamed her. I gripped her hips and shoved her hard against the teen’s hospital bed as I watched the mother devour her daughter’s pussy. Jenny writhed on the bed, gripping the bedsheets with one hand and her mother’s golden curls with the other.

“Oh, Mom!” she gasped. “Oh yes, that’s…ohhh…so amazing!”

She tightened her thighs about her mother’s head as she writhed in pleasure. Irene moved her lips around, exploring the delicate folds of her daughter’s teenage cunt while her ass squeezed hard on my invading cock. I stroked harder and faster, every rub of my cock’s head against her bowels built the growing pressure in my balls.

Mark, are you staying on task? sent Mary.

Sure, I sent back to my wife. We could communicate telepathically, thanks to the Siyach spell.

Liar. I could feel her amusement through the sending. Who’re you fucking right now?

Mary always seemed to sense when I was fucking through the sending no matter how hard I tried to keep the passion out of my thoughts. Of course, when you were buried in a woman’s ass that felt this amazing, it was hard to hide your passion. Fucking a mother’s ass while she eats out her virgin daughter’s cunt.

I see why you got distracted. There was a resigned edge to her thought. And how many children have you healed?

Five, I answered. Including the teenage girl learning about the joys of mother-daughter incest.

After your finished, you have to heal ten children without taking a break. I’ll check with 51 to make sure. That seemed more than a little bit unfair, but I knew 51 would side with Mary. Sometimes I regretted giving free-will back to the bodyguards.

Yes, dear, I promised.

Jenny gasped loudly, her body convulsing as an orgasm rippled through her. “Oh fuck, Mom!” she cried. “That was fucking awesome!”

Irene grinned at her, “Wait ’til you feel the second one, angel. And mind your language. We didn’t raise you to speak such filth!” Then she bent down and continued to vigorously eat her daughter out.

A suspicion formed in my mind. My wife was nearly as lustful a being as I was. So Mare, how many children have you healed?

That’s not important, she sent back, a hint of guilt in her thought.

How many? I pressed.

Six, she answered weakly. I got sidetracked.

That’s my naughty filly!

Fine, we both have to heal ten children before indulging. Okay, my horny stallion?

Sure, Mare. Love ya.

Love you, too.

I wonder whom my wife had fucked? A hot MILF with large tits? An innocent teen? Maybe it was a guy. An image of Mary riding another man’s cock floated up in my mind. Her perky breasts, swollen with her pregnancy, bouncing up and down, sweat rolling down her cute baby bump – she had just entered her second trimester – that was starting to show. There was something exciting about watching your wife be another man’s whore. A perverse thrill. I wondered if she felt the same thing when she watched me fuck another woman?

“Fuck!” I groaned. Thinking of my wife with another man sent my balls into overdrive and I creamed Irene’s ass. I pulled out and slapped her butt. “It’s your husband’s turn. Be a good, little whore for him.”

Irene looked up from her daughter’s cunt, sticky with her juices, and smiled. “Absolutely, my Lord!”

Jenny’s eyes apprehensively fell on my dirty cock as I mounted the bed. In the background, Irene moaned as her husband buried his cock into her sloppy ass. I climbed over the virgin teen, bent down and nipped at her bite-sized nipples, then I licked up her sweaty neck and kissed her lips. She was hesitant, unsure. I was her first kiss. It was as sweet as an ice tea on a hot summer day.

“Relax,” I whispered into her ear and instantly the tension melted out of her. “Relax, my little slut.”

“Okay,” she nodded and I kissed her again. Her tongue brushed my lips and her legs spread wantonly for me.

I guided my cock, still dirty from her mother’s ass, to her virgin hole. I rubbed it on her tight slit; enjoying the feel of her silky pubes on my dick’s head. She gasped as I buried half of my cock into her, pressing against her maidenhead. Fuck, I loved popping a girl’s cherry, they were just so rare. I rubbed her right nipple with my hand, letting the pleasure help to relax her, then I buried my cock into her. Her hymen tore like tissue paper, barely slowing my cock down.

“Holy shit!” she gasped; her cunt squeezed like a vice on my cock. “Holy fucking shit!”

“Language!” snapped her dad as he reamed her mom’s ass.

“Holy shit, holy shit!” she kept screaming as I pumped my cock inside her sopping cunt. Her eyes and cunt squeezed tightly as she came. “Oh my fucking shit!”

“Language, young lady! That’s your last warning!”

“You mind your father,” Irene panted. “Umm, go a little harder, Ernie! Crud, why didn’t we do this sooner!” The parents shared a sloppy kiss, and the wife purred, “That’s your daughter’s sweet pussy you’re tasting.”

“Shit,” he moaned.

“Language, dad!” Jenny exclaimed.

“I want to watch you make love to our daughter,” Irene moaned. “And then I’ll lick her all nice and clean!”

“Holy shi…shoot!” Ernie gasped and I was pretty sure he just blew his load.

Jenny gasped and clutched me tightly, thrusting her hips to meet my stroke. I really pounded her tight cunt and savored how delicious she felt. It was like plunging into a soft, juicy peach. Her fingernails raked my back and she came again, quick and fast, like a tiny firecracker, her tight cunt milking my cock.

“Fucking whore!” I grunted. “Your cunt’s fucking tight! Goddamn I love teenage pussy!” I spurted three large blasts into her youthful cunt and pulled out of her.

“Thank you, my Lord,” she whispered, her legs obscenely spread, my cum dripping pink out of her cunt. “For healing me, and for…you know.”

I gave her another kiss. “You’ll always remember the day you fucked a God,” I told her.

“I will,” she smiled, a tear glistening in her eyes. “You gave me back my life.” Her arms wrapped around me and she gently sobbed into my shoulder.

I held her for a few minutes then gently pulled away. “Why don’t you show your parents how much you love them,” I whispered in her ear. “Eat your mother’s ass out and let your daddy try out your cunt.”

“I will,” she smiled, sniffing.

I stood, straitening my suit, and walked out, followed by my bodyguards. The hospital was filled with the bodyguards and outside a company of the Legion – about 130 soldiers bound by the Ragily prayer – guarded the perimeter.

“Spectre, Spectre!” a voice suddenly crackled on 51’s radio.

Fear spiked in me “Where?” I demanded at 51, summoning my Celestial gold sword and armor.

“Sitrep!” 51 calmly said into the radio.

The bodyguards around me drew their weapons, scanning the hallway with care. Their guns were loaded with bronze bullets inscribed with spells by Candy. It was delicate, time-consuming work, and you could often hear Candy’s frustrated curses echo out of Sam’s suite. They were needed though, normal bullets were ineffective against spiritual entities like demons or Lilith’s foul offsprings.

I cautiously looked around. ‘Spectre’ was the codename for a demon attack. In the last week the Patriots had tried a new strategy: summoning lesser demons and sending them after Mary and I. They rarely got past the Legion. Outside, automatic gunfire erupted.

Lesser demons weren’t fallen angels, like Molech and Lucifer. Or even powerful human souls like Lilith. They were the souls or regular men and women twisted by their eons long imprisonment in Hell, tortured and twisted into soldiers by the Powers of Abyss to fight their never-ending wars. I gritted my teeth, anger boiling up at the Patriots. They were growing more and more bold. Innocent people could get hurt in these attacks. The sooner the Matmown was finished, the sooner we could make our plans against the Patriots and Lilith without fear of them spying on us from the Shadows.

Another burst of gunfire followed by excited squawks on the radio. “All clear,” 51 reported. “Spectre neutralized.”

I shook my head; these attacks were so pointless. The demons were outclassed. Thanks to the Ragily prayer, the Legion weapons could hurt demonic flesh without enchantments, and the demons never stood a chance against such firepower. I relaxed, about to dismiss my armor, when 51 paled, reaching for her handgun.

I spun around. Like smoke billowing out of a grate, the lesser demon materialized out of the wall a foot behind me, swinging his claws at my face. It was a lucifugi, a demon of night. Its body resembled black smoke, wavering beneath the hallway’s florescent lights.

I raised my arm, blocking the swipe easily on my vambrace. Then a quick slash with my sword parted the demon’s head and it fell to smokey pieces on the hospital floor. I stared down at the demon’s evaporating body, my heart pounding. If it had attacked just a second later, it would have caught me after I dismissed my armor and weapon.

Feeling paranoid, I kept peering around, not ready to drop my guard. This attack was smart, sending a decoy to attack the Legion, while a lone demon slipped in. Mary rushed around the corner, surrounded by her bodyguards, and hugged me. I relaxed, and let my armor dissolve away, showering my wife with golden sparks.

“Fucking Patriots,” I muttered.

“We need to do something about them,” Mary growled. I couldn’t agree more.

The rest of the day passed without incident. Between us, we healed sixty-one sick children. We gathered out in front of the hospital with all the children we healed so the photographers and news crews could record our benevolence. It helped to cement our grasp on the US and garnered sympathies world wide.

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

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

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

The First Commandment of our Theocracy: You shall not make Pacts with Demons. That’s why the President signed the Anti-Warlock Act. Anyone who had made a Pact with a demon, including Lucifer, were required to turn themselves in, be exorcised, and pardoned for their mistake. If not, they would be executed. Warlocks were too powerful to be allowed to roam free. I was hoping the death sentence would spur the Warlocks into turning themselves in, but none had, even after we executed the few, easy to find Warlocks.

Mary fell asleep on my shoulder in the back of our limo on the ride to the airport. Healing was tiring work, and Mary’s pool of bound people to draw on was smaller than mine. I put one arm around her shoulder and rested my other hand on her pregnant stomach, feeling her baby bump. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of my wife, the scent of her coconut shampoo masking a hint of sweat.

“Sir,” 51 whispered, gently shaking me. “We’re here.”

I must have fallen asleep. Mary still leaned against me and I kissed her forehead and shook her. She squirmed then opened her emerald eyes. “Are we at the airport?” she yawned.

“Yeah, Mare.”

Air Force One awaited us. Of course, the media also awaited us. We put on our regal personas as we stepped out of the limo. It wouldn’t do for the masses to learn that we were just regular people who grew tired. Reporters were yelling questions, asking about the latest Patriots attack.

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

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

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

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

That was a good line of bullshit. Mary was better than me at this. We gave the media a wave, and boarded our plane, ignoring the rest of their questions.

When the plane reached its cruising altitude, we retired to our private cabin. Mary quickly undressed and I admired the curves of her body. The pregnancy gave her skin a lustrous glow; my cock stirred with lust. Even the gentle swell of her baby bump was sexy. I reached out and caressed her hips, and I pulled her close to kiss her.

“I’m tired, Mark,” she murmured. I tried to hide my disappointment and she sensed it. “Sorry. I’ll make it up to you, okay.” She gave me a quick peck.

“Yeah,” I nodded. She did look exhausted. I turned to head to the cabin and to get some relief from Korina.

She climbed onto the bed. “Hold me,” she murmured. “I want to fall asleep in your arms.” I hid my irritated sigh and I snuggled up to her. She wiggled back into me and closed her eyes. “G’nite,” she murmured, already falling asleep.

My cock was hard, and her plump ass rubbing against me wasn’t helping. As I considered calling in Korina to relieve the pressure in my cock with a quiet blowjob, I fell asleep.

“Finally,” Mary said. “I was wondering how long you were going to stay awake. I was getting lonely.”

We were sharing a dream. I stood on a sandy beach, the sun warm on my back, with waves crashing behind her. She sat on a white, sandy beach in a skimpy, yellow bikini, her skin a golden tan, and her belly flat; she didn’t have to be pregnant in the dream. I smiled, noticing her ass looked a little skinnier. She always believed that her ass was a little fat. I thought it was perfect, just plump enough to squeeze.

I looked around for Azrael. I didn’t see the Angel lurking around.

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

“Wow,” I said. “And damn you are hot in that bikini.”

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

“You did,” I grinned, my cock hardening as I drank in her body.

She dashed to the blue water, her ass swaying and jiggling beautifully as she ran, clad in the tight bikini. I chased after her into the warm water. Mary dived into the sea and came up, her dark hair damp as she treaded water. I swam after her, the water relaxing away all my cares. I caught my wife and pulled her to me and shared a salty kiss.

Her arms and legs wrapped around me as we kissed. We floated in the water and shared our love. I reached behind her back, and found the ties for her top. The bikini floated away atop the waves. Her breasts were the same golden tan and I bent down, letting the sea water engulf me as I captured her nipple.

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

Still sucking her nipple, I untied her bikini bottoms and let them float away. She grasped my head and pulled me off her breast and kissed me. Her tongue invaded my mouth, inflaming my lusts. I moaned as her hands shoved into my trunks, groping my dick.

We rocked in the waves as we kissed, my legs slowly kicking to keep our heads above the warm water. Her hand stroked my cock as my fingers found her plump ass, squeezing and kneading. My dick ached to be in her, and Mary seemed to sense my need, or maybe her pussy needed to be filled, because her hands pushed down my swimming trunks and her hips shifted, and she engulfed my cock to the hilt.

“Yes, yes!” she purred as she sank onto me, surrounding me in her spongy warmth.

As we fucked, we slipped under the waves, but that didn’t matter. It was a dream. We didn’t need to breath.

We floated in the bright blue of the ocean, coral glowing on the ocean floor and colorful fish zipping around us. We slowly spun about as the waves surged to the shore. Bubbles escaped our lips as we moaned, floating lazily to the surface. We writhed against each other, her cunt squeezing my cock with her familiar tight grip, and I could feel her passion grow as I fucked her. I knew just how to move to pleasure my wife.

We stared into each other’s eyes, lost in love. Her auburn hair floated about us, like the lazy tendrils of a sea anemone. Mary came first, bucking against me. Her cunt milked my cock, hungry for my cum. I reveled in the feel of her pussy, the tight friction bringing my balls to a boil. I came hard, tense pleasure surging out of me and into my wife.

I held my wife as we lazily spun in the ocean. Mary’s body clung to me, her cheek resting on my chest. My cock was still buried inside her and, as she shifted her weight, my cock began to harden. Our passions grew, urging our hips to move. I wanted to float with her forever in this ocean, just making love. An eternity of love and passion.

I kept fucking her and she kept grinding her clit against me. A second orgasm burst through her and she tightly held me. I kept pumping my ass, my balls ready to burst. Her pussy muscles writhed on my cock and I groaned; a flood of bubbles rose out of my mouth as my cum shot into my wife. I heaved against her as it felt like every nerve in my body exploded; lost to the pleasure of my naughty filly.

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

“I wish we could just stay here forever.”

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

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

Her green eyes sparkled dreamily, then she sighed. “Our enemies would just find us,” Mary bitterly answered. “The Patriots, Lilith and…” she swallowed her last word. I wondered whom she was about to name. Ever since she spoke with the Mother Superior, she had been cagey about some revelation. Something so important that she could reveal it only in the Matmown.

“We have this night,” I told her.”

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

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

Friday, November 8th, 2013 – Mary Glassner – Tacoma, WA

Mark woke me with a kiss. He was sweet that way.

“We’re about to land,” he told me.

I yawned, smiling at my husband. The dream had been such a success. We made love for what seemed like hours on that sandy beach. The dream-sharing worked just like Sam predicted. According to her, we could share our dreams without needing Azrael because of how tightly bound together our souls were. The Angle had laid the bridge, but we didn’t need her to cross anymore. We were so close that our souls were practically one, bound tightly by wishes and spells—and love.

“And what lead to Sister Cuntrag submitting to Master and Mistress?” April asked. I frowned. She was sitting next to Korina, a laptop on her lap and her fingers dancing across the key.

“Master turned her into a bitch,” Korina answered. “He put a choke collar around her neck, dog ears on her head, and a butt plug with a dog’s tail up her ass. Then he and Mistress took her for a walk outside.”

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“You’re Gods, Mistress,” April answered. “I’m going to write about your life. Every religion needs scriptures.”

“Wow,” Mark whistled. “I didn’t know you were a writer.”

April flushed. “I’ve always thought about it. I wrote a few…dirty stories and published them on the internet.”

Mark laughed. “What a naughty slut.”

I bent down and kissed her on the lips. “Good luck. I can’t wait to read it.”

April managed to blush an even deeper shade of crimson. “I’ll do my very best.”

I sat down next to Mark, leaning my head on his shoulder, thinking about April’s writing a scripture about us. Sometimes the sheer magnitude of what we were doing would fall on me, burying me beneath an avalanche of guilt. We weren’t Gods. We were just two flawed individuals muddling our way through the world, thrust into events for beyond our capabilities.

Lucifer had to be stopped. We had to have the World prepared in case the worse should happen and the Gates of Hell are opened and the Devil and his ilk are unleashed to plague mankind. They would transform Earth into Hell, oppressing and enslaving everyone.

This mess was our fault. Mark and I were both too weak to have made better choices, and now we had to reap the harvest we sowed.

We landed at McChord Air Field, part of Joint Base Lewis-McChord. It was a combined Army and Air Force installation that bordered the city of Lakewood. A different limo waited for us than the one we used in Kansas. We had several armored limos that were flown about on one of our many C-130 cargo planes. There was no media waiting for us in the early hours of the morning, only an honor guard of Airmen.

The Limo drove us north on I-5 to the Murano Hotel, our temporary home while our Mansion was being constructed. After Brandon burned down our neighborhood, we had commandeered the Hotel in downtown Tacoma. I was still tired, the flight was only a few hours. Just long enough to take a nap, but I needed more sleep.

The lobby was full of our maids, dressed in a variety of sexy maid outfits. They were mostly teenage girls, but a few were older women. They were all recruited by Willow out of her clinic and bound to Mark with the Zimmah spell.

“Master, Mistress,” Pearl bowed. She was the chief maid. Her teenage daughter, Cindy, was one of the thirty or so maids that greeted us. “Welcome back.”

Mark motioned to the dusk-red Hindi beauty he met in the hospital. “Karishma will be joining your maids,” he told Pearl. “I haven’t bound her yet, so don’t let her see anything sensitive. I’ll take care of that later today.” He yawned. “After we get some more sleep.”

“Of course, my Lord,” Pearl bowed, then took Karishma’s hand. “Umm, aren’t you a pretty one. The girls and I will take good care of you.”

All of our family and employees had rooms here. Only people bound by the Zimmah spell stayed here now. Leah, our chauffeur, was greeted by her husband and wife. I was glad their three-way marriage worked out. It was wonderfully romantic watching Rachel and Leah fall in love that weekend in New York, and Jacob seemed to round out their threesome nicely.

The elevator opened and Sam walked out naked, trailed by an equally naked Candy, her love-slave. I flushed as I saw the cock swinging between her legs and the cum dripping out of Candy’s pussy. Sam felt my eyes on her cock, and she blushed, concentrated, and it shrank back into her clitoris. Memories of having my own cock flooded my mind, the feeling of warm pussy engulfing me and the intense release of a male orgasm.

My pussy dampen. Could Mark handle me having a cock I could dismiss? We could fuck the same woman, using her holes together. But what if he couldn’t handle it? I’ve seen him watch Sam fuck other women, lust burning in his eyes. But Sam wasn’t his wife, and he’s never fucked her once since she’s gotten her cock. I didn’t want to take that chance that he would stop seeing me as a woman. It wasn’t worth the risk of causing a rift between us.

Even if I burned to create my own cock sometimes.

“It’s finished,” Sam answered.

“What is?” I yawned. We had been traveling the country for the last three days. The NSA had turned its considerable capabilities into spying on US Citizens and we crashed several protest rallies and placed more resistors under our control before stopping in Omaha to spend the day healing.

“The Matmown!” Excitement filled her voice. “Just a few hours ago.”

Energy surged through me, banishing my fatigue. “You tested it?”

“I summoned Karen and she could not see us within it,” Sam confirmed.

I glanced at Mark and I could see the eagerness in his eyes. He was desperate to learn what secret I had been holding back these last six weeks. Maryam – the Mother Superior of the Nuns – pressed upon me the necessity of not revealing the truth of Lucifer’s plans outside of a Matmown. The Devil could not know that we were moving against him.

It was the only chance we had.

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

Lilith – The Abyss

I glared at Samnag Soun as I haunted the Shadows. If hate could reach through the barrier between life and death, my gaze would stop her foul heart. Her and that slattern Candy. They killed my daughter, my sweet Luka. They cut her head off and buried her with a mouth full of dirt.

They trooped into the elevator. Mark and Mary, and all their sluts. I wanted to step through the Shadows and rip their heads off. Mark killed two more of my daughters—my beautiful Dimme twins. Rage boiled inside me. Only my spirit traveled to the Abyss. My vessel rested safely in Seattle. I couldn’t touch Mark even if I manifested into the mortal world. I would only be an insubstantial spectre.

It was just as well, I would most likely die. My skills weren’t in combat, and Mark had slain Molech, one of the most powerful of the Demon Princes. Only Lucifer could rival Molech in a contest of arms.

Around me prowled Mark’s dead whores—Chasity, Karen, the others. They were always hovering in the Shadows around Mark and Mary, protecting them from the Patriots’ foolish attacks. The ghost had tried to drive me off in the beginning, but I was a spiritual being, so I could harm the ghosts.

Now they didn’t bother. They just watched, ready to pounce if it looked like I was about to cross over. I could feel their eyes on me, full of anger and hatred. I ignored them, focusing on Mark’s group.

Mark’s elevator reached the basement and he and his sluts walked down the hallway to the damned cold-iron box—the Matmown. The iron walls shown with a blinding, white light. The Prayers inscribed on the metal burned with the ferocity of the stars, flooding the Shadows with pure, painful light. The door to the Matmown lay open, not that it mattered; I still couldn’t enter it, not from the Shadows.

The door closed and I wanted to howl in frustration. They were going to move on me, I just knew it. Ever since they sent Sam to France, my name had barely been spoken. They were avoiding making plans, knowing I could spy on them from the Shadows and overhear whatever they said.

My mind whirled. I was only weeks away from being powerful enough to challenge them. Damn that slattern Sam! How did Mark ever find someone so competent?

“Isn’t it funny how much time you spend lurking in the Abyss,” Lucifer mocked from behind me. I almost jumped, but eons spent in the Abyss taught me to suppress any sign of weakness. “You spent all that energy to escape, and yet here you are. Why did you even bother?”

I could feel his radiance on my back. “What I do is none of your business. I am yours no longer.”

“Why would I interfere. Everything you do serves my purpose.”

I ground my teeth in frustration. He was always so smug, so sure that events danced to his lyre. I turned to face him; trying not to flinch before his radiance. He had to shine as bright as his pride, and nothing in the universe was greater. “What if they’re plotting against you, Lucifer. Who knows what Maryam told that slattern in France.”

He shrugged. “I’ll know soon enough.”

“How,” I asked suspiciously. “Not even you can penetrate a Matmown.”

“I have a spy,” he answered. “She has been with them for months. In their inner circle.”

“Do you take me for a fool?” I demanded. “All the people around them are bound by the Zimmah spell.”

His smile was condescending. “You should run along now and try to defend your little demesne before Mark takes it away from you.”

Infuriated with Lucifer, I returned to my body. I sat up in my chair. Lana and Chantelle, my High Priestesses, knelt patiently. I wanted to slam my fist into the desk and screech out my rage and fear. But I had to maintain my calm, controlled exterior.

I am a Goddess.

I took two, deep breaths, trying to exhale all of my frustrations.

My gaze fell on blonde, voluptuous Lana. Her face was round, set with blue, sultry eyes. My lust stirred and I let my cock grow hard, expanding from my clit. My frustration needed an outlet and Lana’s juicy sheath was the perfect place to release some pent-up energy.

“Lana,” I said imperiously.

“Yes, my Goddess?” she asked.

“Attend me.”

She rose gracefully, dressed in a flowery dress and a light, blue sweater. She shrugged off the sweater and pulled her dress over her head. Her breasts were round; large nipples pierced with gold rings. My eyes feasted on her plump curves. Her heavy breasts swayed as she walked around to my side of the desk and bent over. I touched her ass and she gasped, shaking as an orgasm swept through her, filling the air with the most delicious of scents—a woman’s arousal.

I savored her tart, tangy fragrance as my own, tight red dress dissolved into mist.

“Use my naughty cunt to relieve yourself,” she purred.

Chantelle undressed as well. She had the slim, lithe body of a ballerina, with a porcelain face framed by short, black hair. I could smell her arousal as well, a sweet musk adding to Lana’s bouquet. A cock gently swelled from Chantelle’s clit, and Lana reached out and grasped her wife’s dick.

“I need relief too, my love,” Chantelle purred in her melodic, Quebecois accent.

“Gladly,” Lana answered and pulled her wife’s cock into her lips.

Lana’s cunt was shaved, her labia engorged and dark with passion. I shoved my cock deep into her sheath. My Lust flooded Lana, traveling through her body and sending her cunt to convulse about my dick, before my Lust passed through her body and into Chantelle’s.

“Drink my cum!” Chantelle moaned as my Lust triggered her climax, gripping Lana’s blonde hair and shoving her cock deep into her wife’s hungry lips.

I pounded Lana’s cunt. My Lust kept her cumming, her delightful tunnel massaging my cock, slowly building my orgasm. Chantelle fucked Lana’s mouth, finding a rhythm with me. We’d thrust into Lana at the same time, filling her up with the cocks she loved. Chantelle’s eyes squeezed shut, her small, apple-sized breasts jiggling as orgasm after orgasm rippled through her, pumping blast after blast of cum into Lana’s mouth.

“My beautiful Lana,” she moaned. “Swallow my load! Oh fuck, I’m cumming again!” Chantelle’s finger reached down, scooping some white cum that leaked from Lana’s lips. She stared at the glistening drop, then licked her finger clean.

Such a nasty sight. I reached out, grasping Chantelle’s head, and pulled her lips to mine. They were sweet and salty, and the slut moaned her passion into my mouth as my tongue explored her. When I broke the kiss she wore a foolish, drunk look. She gasped and moaned, flooding her wife’s mouth with more jizz.

“My Goddess,” she panted. “Thank you!”

I cupped one of my heavy, perfect breasts, and Chantelle latched onto my nipple. I let my milk flow and she nursed eagerly. She sucked, pleasure arcing through me, joining the growing storm in my womb. I fucked Lana harder, her tight pussy gripping me like velvet glove. I exulted in her wet, spongy flesh. I was the Goddess of Lust, and Lana and Chantelle fervently worshiped me. I drank in their lust; I breathed in the sweet, musky odor of sex thick in the air. I didn’t need to eat or sleep—I just needed to drink lust.

Primal, vital lust.

The storm raged inside me then surged out my dick into Lana’s pussy. Her cunt spasmed on my cock as my cum squirted into her. I moaned; my glorious release trembled throughout my body, and I forgot all about my problems in this one, rapturous instance.

I collapsed into my chair, my breasts heaving. I closed my eyes, breathing deeply the musk that filled my office. My body tingled with energy, restoring what I expanded to send my spirit to the Abyss.

I have a spy.

Lucifer’s words interrupted my reverie. Did he really have a spy? Impossible. All those sluts around Mark were bound to him. None would betray him. Not when the bastard and his slattern holds their life-force in the palm of their hands. Lucifer is just trying to keep me unbalanced.

I opened my eyes and saw Lana’s messy cunt slowly leaking my black cum and I could hear the two sluts kissing. “Hmm, thank you,” purred Lana. “I love our Goddess’s milk.”

“You’re welcome,” Chantelle answered. “Do you have something to give me?”

“I do,” Lana answered, moving around the desk. She perched her curvy ass on my desk. Chantelle knelt before her and I could hear the messy sounds of cunnilingus. “Oh yes!” Lana moaned. “You wonderful woman! I love you!”

“How is Tir progressing?” I asked. “Has she perfected it yet?”

“No, my Goddess,” Lana reported, her voice thick with lust. Tir was my daughter by Fatima. “It’s not transmitting effectively. She thinks another few weeks to fine tune it.” I didn’t really think there would have been some miraculous breakthrough in the last few hours.

It wasn’t good news. I didn’t have a few weeks. I closed my eyes again, thinking. Mark would be coming after me. I would have to stall him somehow, and give Tir the time she needed to complete her work, and for my army in Africa to be born. But that wouldn’t take care of Mark himself. I’d need something else.

I smiled. The daggers of Mispach. Forged by Cain from a falling star. Any wound from one of those cursed daggers was so fatal no power could heal it. They were lost to time. First she’d need to get some breathing room; time to search out one of the daggers.

“Umm, let me taste our Goddess’s seed,” cooed Lana.

The sounds of their kissing distracted me. When I opened my eyes, I found them locked in a passionate embrace. Their relationship was young, their love still burned hot. I could feel the lust bleeding off both of them, calling to me. Lana moaned low and throaty as Chantelle sheathed her cock in the blonde.

Their lust stirred my passions, hardening my cock.

I glided gracefully around the desk, my cock waving hard before me. Chantelle’s slim ass pumped as she fucked Lana, muscles flexing. I touched the small of her back. I held back my Lust, wanting my priestesses to be relatively clearheaded. Chantelle looked at me over her shoulder, an inviting smile on her face. My cock found her wet cunt, and I drove hard into her, pushing Chantelle’s dick deep into Lana.

“I have a plan, Priestesses,” I groaned, savoring the feel of her pussy.

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 43.

The Devil’s Pact Chapter 41: Assassination

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Chapter 41: Assassination

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2013, 2014


Story Codes: Male/Female, Females/Teen female, Male/Females/Teen females, Mind Control, Magic, Incest, Oral, Watersports, Rimming, 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 40.



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

–excerpt from ‘The Patriots Manifesto’, author Unknown

Monday, October 7th, 2013 – Mary Glassner – Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, New York City

I threw a punch at Mark’s face. He caught my wrist easily.

“He’s bigger than me, how am I supposed to fight him?” I demanded angrily of Azrael.

Ever since I took the Mother Superior’s Gift, Mark and I could summon Azrael, the Angel of Death, and form a shared dreamscape. We were using it to learn to fight, so that we could defend ourselves if we ended up in another bad situation. Mark effortlessly picked it all up thanks to his Gift, while I had to struggle to learn just the basics—it was so frustrating! The Gift was so sexist! Why did Mark get cool fighting powers? He got to summon a sword and armor and look absolutely badass when he’s fighting. All I got was the degrading power of exorcism through sex. I still felt dirty from handling Brandon’s cock. Sometimes it seemed like the vile taste of his cum would never leave my lips.

“Your foes will almost always be bigger than you, Mary,” Azrael replied in her musical voice. She sounded like bells ringing when she talked: tiny, tinkling bells when she was happy and deep, resonating bells when she was angry.

“You’re getting better, Mare,” Mark said with a smile. I knew he was just saying that to be nice, and it did make me feel warm inside. But I wasn’t getting better. I felt so clumsy, like my limbs were weighted down as I struggled to properly move them. My husband moved quickly and deliberately. Unlike me, his body moved the way he intended it to, while I stumbled and flailed like a drunk chicken.

We had already been practicing for what seemed like a day. Time worked differently in the dreams, flowed slower. Mark kept referring to Inception, and he had looked so shocked when I admitted to having never seen the movie. For the last week, we had spent every other night training in the dreams; it was too exhausting with my pregnancy for me to train every night.

It wasn’t just physical fighting we trained. We also practiced spells, trying to figure out ways to use them in sticky situations. Wind spells to knock an opponent down, illusions to confound them, and levitating to put distance between you and your enemy. And Molech’s fire was a great last resort, burning anyone who touched you. I felt like I could do more with the fire, hurl it somehow, if I could just figure out how to control it better.

I also practiced my Gift, learning the Nun’s prayers. I could control an enemy’s Thrall – so long as they weren’t bound by the Zimmah spell – transforming them into traps to be sprung on their Warlock, or I could free the Thrall, or put them into a trance and interrogate them. With Warlocks popping up all over the world, I was the only one who could exorcise them and their Thralls. By touching their cocks. So unfair.

“Let’s practice shooting,” I finally said, growing too frustrated with the hand-to-hand training.

I was great at shooting. Since we were in a dream, we could shape or conjure anything we could imagine. I had been afraid of guns – they make that loud noise when they’re fired – ever since I was little. Once I got used to them, I found that there was something very satisfying about hitting the target and seeing the damage the bullet did. I especially liked to fire at targets that resembled Brandon, aiming at his crotch.

There was power in using a gun and being in control.

Mark and I spent a few dream hours – which was probably only ten minutes in the waking world – firing various guns; it was satisfying fun. I had shot a few while awake now – the bodyguards and soldiers were very accommodating – and I had been pleased to see that my training in the dream had translated into real skill in the waking world.

I switched to shooting a 9mm automatic pistol. Probably my favorite gun. I aimed at a fresh Brandon target, lining up the front and rear sights right at his crotch. I squeezed the trigger and the gun rapidly barked and jerked upwards in my hand as it spat out bullets. The target splintered, the first few bullets striking the crotch, then there was a jerky line going up his hip into his gut. I smirked in satisfaction. Shooting effigies of Brandon never seemed to grow old.

“I hope you enjoy hell, bastard!” Mark shouted.

I chill went through me. We had sold our souls to the Devil, just like Brandon. When we die, was eternal torment going to be our reward? Mark didn’t care about damnation when he sold his soul, and I had been too wrapped up in my love for Mark when I decided to sell mine. I had wanted so badly to be his equal that I didn’t think through my decision.

I wished Sam was back from France. She should be on a plane right now, landing this evening at La Guardia. The last few days I have been studying the Magicks of the Witch of Endor, trying to find a way out of going to hell. The book hinted of a spell that would require a child, a daughter. My hand touched my belly, the only child I would ever have. If it was a girl, there was a way that Mark could gain immortality, and since I wished to live as long as Mark, I would gain it as well.

If I, or one of the sluts that is pregnant with his child, bore a daughter, we would be able to cheat the Devil and escape our fate.

“It’s alright,” Mark whispered, wrapping his arms around me.

He was such a sweet man, sensing my turmoil. I closed my eyes, feeling safe in his strong arms. I knew in my heart that we’d be together forever—even in the torments of hell. I let go of the gun – it vanished back into dreamstuff before hitting the ground – and I wiggled my ass into his hardening cock.

This was the other great benefit of the shared dream; we were sleeping hundreds of miles apart. I was in New York City, in the Waldorf-Astoria, and Mark was at the Willard Intercontinental in Washington D.C. But that didn’t matter. We could be on the far side of the world and we were only a nap away from being together. My pussy moistened as I felt his stiff cock, and I imagined myself naked. The comfortable training clothes I wore vanished into black motes.

Mark’s arousal pressed against my naked ass. “Mmm, do you need some relief?” I asked my husband.

“Always Mare,” he murmured, nuzzling my neck. “When I’m with you, I always need relief.”

His words warmed my heart. He was always sweet with me, and it was one of the reasons our open relationship worked. He can be such a heartless bastard at times, treating women as things to satisfy his lusts, but never with me. Neither of us had to suppress our dark desires from each other, from the world. We were beyond morality—we were free. Free to trust and know that our various dalliances didn’t change how we felt for each other.

Suddenly we were floating in the blue sky, weightless. My auburn hair fanned about my head, like the tendrils of an anemone swaying in a current. I laughed, spinning about. You could have so much fun in the dreams. Something soft and fluffy bumped into my back, cushioning me. It was a cloud, cotton-white. I stretched out upon it, spreading my legs open. I rubbed a finger through my waxed pussy, already damp, and brought my digit to my lips and tasted my sweet, spicy flavor.

Mark let out a low growl as I sucked on my finger, then he buried his face into my pussy. “Umm, that feels wonderful, Mark!” I groaned. His tongue slid up my petals and flicked at my clit, while his fingers spread me open, before burying his tongue into my pussy.

My husband was a great pussy eater; I writhed on the cloud, enjoying his tongue and fingers. I ran my hand through his brown hair, his blue eyes staring up at me from between my pale thighs, and I could feel his love. I hated sleeping apart from him, but we both could control people, and were more effective separate than together.

His lips found my clit and I gasped my pleasure. “Umm, eat me, my horny stallion! Oh, hun, I’m so close! You’re driving me wild!” My orgasm built quickly. His fingers slid into my pussy, and moved deliciously in and out of my cunt. I shuddered; a small climax rippled through me.

Mark kept eating me out, sucking hard on my clit. Another orgasm shot through me and I writhed on the soft cloud. “Let me suck you!” I cried out. I wanted to make my husband feel just as amazing.

He spun around easily, his body floating down to mine. I opened my mouth and engulfed his hard cock. I grabbed his firm ass, groping him and pulling his cock deep into my mouth. I could taste the salt of his pre-cum as I bobbed my head. Mark moaned his appreciation into my pussy. I pulled him deeper, relaxing my throat, and slid his entire cock into my mouth. His pubic hair tickled my cheeks as I massaged his dick with my mouth. Then, sucking hard, I slid up until only the tip remained in my mouth, swirling my tongue about the sensitive head, before deep-throating him again.

“Oh fuck! That feels amazing, Mare!” he groaned. “My naughty filly!”

Another orgasm spasmed through me, my insides squeezing tightly; I could feel my juices splashing on my husband’s face. I moaned my pleasure on his cock, my mouth humming on his sensitive head. Salty cum suddenly flooded my mouth, and I joyfully drank my husband’s seed down, enjoying the thick, salty cream.

Mark pulled away, twirling about above me and I giggled. He looked so majestic as he moved without gravity, his muscular body glistening with sweat. He was so yummy! Then he dropped back down to the cloud on top of me, and we kissed passionately, fencing each other with our tongues. I enjoyed my sweet, spicy flavor as I wrapped my legs around his hips, and pulled my husband’s cock into my aching sheath.

“Fuck me, stallion!” I moaned as he penetrated me.

He took me hard and fast, driving me into the cotton-soft cloud. His cock felt amazing inside me. The bellboy I fucked last night may have had a dick that was a little bigger than Mark’s, but he didn’t know how to use his. My husband knew my cunt intimately, and angled his thrusts to hit all the good spots inside me.

“Fuck your filly!” I panted. “God, I love your cock!”

“Is that all you love?” Mark asked with a boyish grin.

“No! I love everything about you!” I pulled his face down and kissed him madly, running my hands down his broad back to his tight ass. Since he got the Gift his ass was so yummy; I loved to play with it.

Our groins slapped together, my clit grinding hard into his pubic bone, every thrust sending sparks of pleasure burning inside me. Mark’s hand found my right breast and he played with my nipple. He broke the kiss and bent his back so he could suck my nipple into his mouth, the wonderful pressure driving me closer and closer to my climax.

“Yes, yes, yes!” I moaned over and over as his lips, his cock, drove me wild. I could feel a huge orgasm building inside me. A tsunami of passion that threatened to drown me. I couldn’t wait!

Mark switched tits, his cock pistoning rapidly in and out of my cunt. I loved it! His shaft rubbed on all the pleasant spots, sending more pleasure to the growing orgasm-tsunami. I licked my fingers, then spread his ass and found his asshole. I massaged the puckered ring, then slipped my fingers in and found his prostate.

“Holy shit!” Mark groaned as his cock exploded inside me.

I loved massaging his prostate. I would only do it once in a while because I loved his surprised reaction; his dick always seemed to flood an extra pint of cum – all warm and sticky – inside me when I did it, right where it belonged. He buried his cock all the way inside me as the last of his semen poured out, and I rubbed my clit on his pubic bone. I came! My orgasm washed through me, surging through every fiber of my being in wave after wave of rapture.

“I love you!” I screamed as the torrent of passion overwhelmed me. As it receded, I reveled in the feel of Mark’s strong arms holding me, his face nuzzling my neck.

We cuddled on that cloud for what seemed an eternity, my husband inside me, our lips gently kissing each other, loving each other. We didn’t talk; we were beyond words, and just enjoyed each other’s presence.

When I woke up, I was in the Waldorf-Astoria. The very suite Mark and I had stayed at the first time we came to New York. I smiled, remembering our first night, and the wild foursome we had with Rachel and Leah in this very bed. Xiu was snuggled up against me, the busty Asian slut’s tits pressed into my back. Jessica’s caramel face was inches from mine. She looked so peaceful as she slept. I closed the distance, and kissed her on the lips.

Her brown eyes opened and she smiled. “Good morning, Mistress.”

Xiu moved, rubbing against me from behind, her lips nuzzling at my neck. “Morning, Mistress,” she murmured sleepily.

I turned over and grabbed Xiu’s nipple jewelry, a pink butterfly dangling on a silver chain from a barbell piercing, and gave it a hard, painful tug. Xiu gasped in pain, lust shining in her eyes. Xiu was a masochist and nothing got her wetter than having her nipple piercings painfully pulled. “I have to pee,” I told her.

Xiu threw back the covers and slid down my body, spreading my pussy open. Her mouth latched onto my urethra and I relaxed, sighing as I pissed into her mouth. I could feel her sucking and swallowing all of my urine. The nasty sounds she made as she drank my piss just made my pussy wetter. Pleasure tingled through me as the pee flowed out. Once you’ve experienced peeing in a pretty woman’s mouth, how can you possibly ever use a toilet again?

Jessica bent over and captured one of my dusky nipples and started sucking as I finished peeing in Xiu’s mouth. The Asian slut licked at my pussy, searching for any errant drops of piss. Her tongue felt great, far better than any toilet paper, thick and agile, not rough. She was gentler than Mark, her lips and tongue softer on my pussy. My husband was a hound, aggressively licking me out, whereas Xiu was a cat, taking gentle, careful licks. They weren’t better or worse, just different. She licked through every fold and crevasse of my pussy, before her tongue started to lightly flick at my clit.

“Fuck yes!” I moaned. “I love your tongues on me, sluts!”

“We live to pleasure you and Master,” Jessica purred, reaching over to finger my other nipple as she sucked on the first.

The door opened and April walked in, naked save for her glasses and choker, carrying a tray that had a few sliced honeydew melons and a bowl of oatmeal. She set the tray on the nightstand and slipped into bed. The nerdy girl quickly sucked my other nipple into her mouth. Her legs wrapped around my right thigh and her wet pussy rubbed on my skin, slippery wet and hot.

“Looks like a party in here,” giggled Lillian.

The goth slut strutted in, dressed in a black corset that cupped her small, pale breasts and left her pink nipples bare. A very short skirt made of black gauze barely covered her pussy and her pale thighs were clad in black stockings held up by lacy, red garters.

I licked my lips. “Come sit on my face, Lillian.”

“Oh, I would love that, Mistress.”

Lillian practically skipped to me, climbing up onto the bed and straddling my face. Her pussy was shaved and I could smell her tart arousal as she lowered her wet cunt to my eager lips. I licked through her pussy, enjoying her flavor and the moans that issued from her lips. I began mimicking what Xiu was doing to my pussy. When Xiu’s tongue slipped into my sheath, I shoved my tongue into Lillian’s cunt, enjoying the feel of the silky, wet walls on my tongue. Then Xiu nibbled gently at my clit.

“Oh, Mistress!” Lillian gasped as I gently nipped at her clit with my teeth. “That feels wonderful. Thank you, thank you! I’m the luckiest slut in the world!”

April and Jessica continued nursing at my breasts, their lips and tongues sending pleasure tingling from my nipples down to my womb. Jessica sucked hard, nipping at my nipple, while April let her tongue do most of the work, swirling about my nub, then gently kissed my breast, while she humped hard at my thigh; I loved the feel of her cream on my skin. I had three mouths kissing and licking me, driving me closer and closer to a shuddering orgasm. When it finally exploded inside me, I screamed my pleasure into Lillian’s pussy.

“Fuck yes!” moaned Lillian, cumming and flooding my mouth with her tart juices. “Thank you! Oh, thank you, Mistress!”

Lillian cuddled next to me, and I reached over her to grab a slice of honeydew melon as Xiu, April, and Jessica slipped into a daisy chain on the floor. I took a bite of the sweet melon, listening to the moans of pleasure from the three sluts, when I felt nausea churn in my stomach and I bolted to the bathroom.

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

Mark Glassner – The Willard Intercontinental – Washington D.C.

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

I was balls deep in Desiree’s pussy, fucking the Latina slut as she ate out Tibby’s cunt, one of the two women I brought up to my hotel room last night. The other woman was Tibby’s teenage daughter Bryanna, who knelt next to Desiree as Alison sucked my cum out of the teen’s ass. I was enjoying one last romp with the mother and daughter before I left to attend to Congress.

Just think of our daughter, I sent back. Just picture how beautiful she’ll be when you hold her in your arms.

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

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

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

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

I just hate vomiting. And I wish you were here. I like it when you hold my hair. It’s not the same with Lillian.

It’s only until tomorrow. Then I’ll be there to hold your hair. I love you.

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

I resumed thrusting back into Desiree’s cunt. “Was that mi Reina?” she asked.

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

Alison beamed, her lips sticky with cum. “Don’t stop!” Bryanna gasped. “I’m so close to cumming. Keep licking me slut!”

Alison giggled and dived back into the teen’s ass. Desiree’s cunt squeezed on my cock; the slut was desperate for my cum. My balls tightened; I was nearing that wonderful edge, about to plummet off into the rapture of release.

“Fucking slut!” I groaned, slapping her full ass, watching her nut-brown cheeks jiggle.

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

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

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

“Me too, pumpkin,” Tibby gasped. “Oh god, her tongue is driving me wild. This slut is an expert on muff diving!”

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

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

“Oh fucking yes! I’m going to explode!” the teen girl shouted. “Holy shit! Her tongue’s wiggling up my butthole! Oh my Gods! Oh my fucking Gods!” Her body shook and she collapsed onto her belly. There was a pleased look on Alison’s face—a self-satisfied cat licking her lips.

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

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

Desiree hadn’t climaxed yet, so, after I pulled out of her cunt, I grabbed her clit and rolled it between my fingers a few times. She bucked and screamed, orgasming hard. Her cunt still gaped open; I could see the pink muscles inside spasming as she came, expelling my white cum with her juices.

“Thank you, mi Rey!”

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

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

The crowd waiting outside was even larger than last night, a tide somehow being held back by my soldiers, surging against them in their eagerness to see me. My soldiers were calling themselves the Legion: nearly 10,000 Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marines that had sworn oaths of fidelity to me and had been bound by the Ragily prayer, the Monk version of the Zimmah spell. Unlike the Warlock spell, Ragily didn’t bind their life-force to me, but they would stay loyal as long as they served, and were gifted with certain advantages in fighting the supernatural.

A cadre of the bodyguards formed up around me, dressed as sexy cops. All were volunteers now, and their numbers had swelled to one hundred—all bound to me by the Zimmah spell. My poor mom’s cunt was getting raw from the number of times I had to fuck her earlier this week to bind all these cops to me. 51, commander of the bodyguards, saluted me.

“Good morning, sir,” she said, a smile on her ebony face.

“Let’s get going,” I said after greeting her with a kiss. Two of the bodyguards opened the hotel door and I stepped out to the cheering crowd.

Everything went blue around me, a shimmering field of rippling energy.

I froze; someone just shot at me and the bullet was deflected by my amulet. A loud gunshot cracked across the square and all the bodyguards and soldiers drew their weapons, scanning the crowd. Fear spurred my heart into overdrive and flooded ice through my veins. I was engulfed in blue two more times in rapid succession. I caught a muzzle flash from an apartment window to my left across the street. Only, it looked like the drapes were still drawn across that window.

I stared at the window and saw the fourth muzzle flash – a tongue of red-orange fire – pass through the curtain, but not disturb the fabric in anyway, before everything went blue around me again. One of the bodyguards tried to draw me back and I shook her off. I could see soldiers already pushing through the crowd, racing to that building while the counter-snipers on the hotel’s roof opened fire.

An idea popped into my head. There were news crews here – wherever Mary or I went, there were always news and paparazzi around – and they were broadcasting the attack to the world. This was the perfect opportunity to demonstrate some Godly powers.

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

Jerrold Baxter

After the fourth shot bounced off the Tyrant’s shield I stopped firing and retreated from the window. The counter-snipers had figured out my position and were firing blindly at me, and one round had already whizzed past my head. I quickly disassembled my rifle and put it into its case. The soldiers out on the streets would be in the building and crashing through this apartment door in about a minute.

Plenty of time to escape.

I unsheathed a bronze knife. “Pasaq! I shouted and stabbed the air. My knife sank into nothingness, the tip vanishing seemingly into thin air. I started to saw the knife, cutting through the very fabric of reality, and began carving a portal to the Shadows.

Slipping into the Shadows, the highest level of the Abyss, was not for the faint of heart, but it was a useful spell Noel had taught us after we made our Pacts. The best part: this spell wasn’t found in the Magicks of the Witch of Endor. Noel was positive that Mark knew nothing about it. Apparently, after Noel had been freed from the Tyrants’ slavery, she had used her time to research the occult, and she found several other grimoires that had spells in them.

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

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

Mark Glassner

“Get inside, Master!” 51 shouted at me.

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

51 let go of me and I unleashed Molech’s flames. The fire danced harmlessly on me, but anyone touching me would be burned. I then muttered, “Uwph,” the levitation spell, and soared over the crowd towards that window. This was the perfect opportunity to demonstrate my Godly Powers, and I swallowed my fear. Flying – even a few stories above the ground – unnerved me. I focused on the window, trying to ignore the growing distance between me and the ground. As I flew, I summoned my armor, the gold materializing about me, weighing me down slightly and forcing me to correct my trajectory.

I braced myself to crash through the window, crossing my arms and relying on my armor’s forearm-guards – the vambraces – to protect my face. Only nothing was there. It was an illusion. I landed in a living room that looked like it belonged to an old lady, tidy, adorned with doilies and vases and pictures of children hanging on the walls. In the center of the room was a man, dark haired and muscular, somehow drawing lines that glowed white in the air.

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

The man whirled, yanking his dagger out of the nothingness. It was bronze and glinted sharply as the man went into a fighting stance, the dagger held low. I slipped into an aikido stance, the martial art Azrael had taught me in my dreams. We eyed each other for a moment and then he lashed out with the knife.

I followed the arc, slid to the side and went to grab his knife hand. He moved; I missed the grab, his dagger scraping harmlessly across my gold breastplate. His foot lashed out and caught me on the knee between the greeves and the metal skirt; the pain flashed through me.

I limped back and peered at him and saw only a black aura. He was a Thrall. “Stop!” I ordered him.

He ignored me.

How the hell did he do that? There was no red fringe around his black aura; he wasn’t under the Zimmah ritual. So why didn’t my power work on him? As I pondered that, he thrust his knife at my face; I quickly brought my arm up and let the stroke glance off my vambrace. I grabbed his hand, shutting off my flames – I wanted to capture the assassin, not burn him to death – and grappled him.

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

Busy! I thought back.

Oh God, Mark! Be careful!

The man was on top of me, his dagger slamming down at my face. I grabbed his wrist with my right hand, halting his blow. We strained against each other. I threw an awkward punch at his face with my left hand and he blocked it. I heaved, and rolled him onto his back. He landed hard and the knife skittered away from him. I drew back my fist and punched him as hard as I could in the face.

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

“Who are you!” I demanded.

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

“How are you ignoring my commands?”

He spat in my face, stinging my eyes. Anger flashed through me like a firestorm and for a moment I started to press the knife into his throat before I stopped myself. You need him alive, I reminded myself. Adrenaline pounded through me, making it hard to think straight. This man tried to kill me and every instinct made me want to drive the dagger home in retribution. I took in a deep breath, trying to ignore the pain in my wrenched knee and broken knuckles, and calmed myself down.

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

“My Lord,” the sergeant saluted in surprise.

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

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

I’m safe, Mary, I sent.

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

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

Good PR? Good fucking PR? I could feel an almost hysterical incredulity through the sending. You idiot! You’re too important to risk on goddamn foolishness like that.

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

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

What about the UN?

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

Okay, Mare. Love you.

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

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

Sheila Robbins, New York City

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

I was in an apartment looking down at the Waldorf-Astoria, the owner sleeping peacefully on his bed. On the news, they were showing Baxter getting dragged out, captured by Mark. I cursed, the Tyrant was far more powerful than Noel had reckoned. How had he deflected the bullet? The news clearly showed that the first shot caught the bastard off-guard.

I didn’t have time to think about that now. Down at the hotel, I could see Mary’s party preparing to leave and I jumped into the Shadows.

Clearly, sniper rifles were not the way to defeat them. They must have some sort of spell in place to protect them from gunfire. I was going to try a different way to kill Mary. I could slip through the Shadows and pop out right behind her and shove my dagger through her back before anyone could react. I knew just where to strike to slide past the ribs and find her heart. My blade was thick; it would destroy her heart. She would be dead before a cardiothoracic surgeon could even have a chance to save her.

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

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

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

Moving through the Shadows was different. Distances didn’t measure directly. After taking a few steps, I could see Mary through the mists when I concentrated. I thrust my dagger into the veil that separated the mortal world and the afterlife, and started to carve my portal. It was faster to create on this side, somehow easier to return to the mortal world than to enter the spiritual. I drew the portal rapidly, my heart beating faster and faster. Three sides down, my knife sliding upwards to complete the doorway.

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

A cold hand grabbed me and yanked me backwards face-to-face with a blonde, naked woman. She stared fiercely into my eyes; hers were blue and filled with an icy fury. “You will not touch our Mistress,” she hissed. Anger filled her voice, a terrible, cold rage that I had never felt in the living.

Our? I glanced around as I struggled in her cold grip only to see more women. Maybe a dozen of them, surrounding me. Shit! I stabbed my bronze knife at the blonde’s chest, aiming for her heart. I would need to kill her quickly if I had any chance against the rest. The blade bounced off her breast, the tip slightly bent. The blonde didn’t even seem to notice the blow.

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

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

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

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

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

I was falling, falling, falling.

Into darkness. Into fire.

“Welcome, welcome,” a familiar voice roared as the flames began to consume me, cracking my skin. Lucifer appeared before me, shining like the sun. A red chain – molten, burning – bound about my neck, led to him. It was one of thousands. Everywhere I looked there were burning men and women; all the foolish idiots that sold their souls to him.

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

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

Mark Glassner – Washington D.C.

The Honorable Senator from the Great State of Texas was speaking when I walked into the Senate. His eyes fixed flinty on me as a great uproar went through the room. All the senators who were not under my power pulled earplugs out of their pockets and quickly put them into their ears. Irritation flashed through me; people were getting wise to the limitations of our powers. It didn’t matter; my soldiers had already surrounded the Capital Building, trapping most of the Senators and Congressmen inside.

The Senator from Texas, Ronald Bybee, put in his own earplugs and kept orating, “The Great State of Texas can no longer stand-by and watch as our Great Nation kowtows to this monster!” His finger pointed at me, jabbing with such violence like he wanted to reach across the room and plunge his finger deep into my heart. “Governor Holt has asked me to convey his decisions. As of today, October 7th, 2013, the Great State of Texas secedes from the Union and will once again be the Republic of Texas!”

I surveyed the Senators. Half looked worshipfully at me, kneeling down, while their colleagues with their earplugs either scowled defiantly or stared fearfully at me. Up in the gallery, the C-SPAN cameras rolled. The Legion streamed around me, fanning about the room, their boots echoing loudly.

“Do not kill anyone,” I ordered. “Remove their earplugs.”

I watched as my soldiers surged into the Senators. I felt a pang of guilt. I was betraying everything my Country stood for: Freedom, Liberty, Democracy. Our forefathers had reject the tyranny of Kings, and here I was imposing the harsher tyranny of a God upon them. It was all for the greater good, I told myself. Mary hinted that something bad was coming; we needed to prepare the world. Besides, once we had every man, woman, and child enthralled to us there would be an end to violence—to the suffering that men callously inflicted on each other. Everyone would be happy and live peacefully with their neighbors.

That was worth a little tyranny, right?

33 governors and 11 lieutenant governors arrived for the meeting. Six States didn’t send anyone, Mary sent. She was at a meeting of State Governors; we needed to get the State Governments under our thumbs just as much as the Federal Government. How is it going at Congress?

I take it Texas is one of the six that didn’t send a representative?

How did you know? Surprise pulsed in her thought.

Texas just seceded from the Union.

Does the Govenor of Texas know you have his National Guard under your control? Mary asked.

He’s about to find out the hard way, I’m afraid. I paused, considering Mary’s news. I think we should arrest those governors that just sent their lieutenants, and place their lieutenants in charge of those States.

Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. Bitter regret filled her reply. Are we doing the right thing?

Hopefully, Mare.

The commotion had died down, the resistant Senators had been cowed and were under guard; their earplugs removed. Only a few of them had to be roughly handled. Geraldine Medley, one of Washington State’s two senators walked up to the podium. “Senators, I’m proud to welcome our Lord and Protector, Mark Glassner!”

The loyal senators clapped and a few of the more bold, captured senators booed as I strode up to the Podium. “I am here today to have the Senate confirm that I am your loving God, here to protect you from the coming Darkness.”

As I spoke, my enemies became my most fervent allies. The Senate passed a constitutional amendment declaring us the Gods of America and our worship as the official State Religion. Then they agreed to a treaty placing America beneath the auspices of our Theocracy—the first sovereign state to be brought beneath our world government. They passed other laws, stripping all other religions of their tax exemption and further imposing a tax on all churches, synagogues, temples, mosques, shrines, and any other place of worship that didn’t follow us.

With the Senate in hand, I walked over to the House of Representatives to deal with the Congressmen and -women. My soldiers had already secured them and, after I had finished speaking, they unanimously voted for the laws, treaty, and amendments that the Senate had passed. I felt dirty as I left Congress, and kept telling myself it was all for the greater good.

After leaving Congress, I visited a few of the Embassies in D.C.: the British, French, and German, and placed their ambassadors under our control. The situation with Europe was tense. All the world leaders not under our power were avoiding our phone calls, making it difficult to get them under control. The ones that were under our power were facing considerable political turmoil. The Prime Minister of Britain, loyal to us, had been forced to resign by a Motion of No Confidence. Various parties were now vying for power in their Parliament. Worse happened to the unfortunate President of Pakistan: he had been beheaded by fundamentalists rallying behind the Taliban.

Mary arrived at the hotel that evening, flying down from New York just like she promised. It had been a long day, and I was tired and happy to see my wife.

“Mark!” Mary cried, rushing to me and throwing her arms around my neck and kissing me on the lips. Her hands ran all over my body. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

“No, no, I’m fine, Mare!”

Then she poked me hard in the chest. “You need to be more careful! Good PR! Really, Mark?”

“Sorry.”

Then she kissed me again and clung to me. Beyond my wife, I could see both Sam and Candy. They both looked tired and Candy had her arms wrapped around Sam’s waist. “You have it?” I asked them.

“Yes, sir,” Sam answered. “Though we did run into some trouble.”

Mary nodded. “I had to heal Candy. She had a badly broken leg, and Sam had some cuts too.”

“What happened?”

“Lilith,” Candy spat. “One of her children.”

“An Alukah,” Sam explained. “A type of vampire. It killed two police officers and almost drained me dry of my blood.” Sam glanced fondly at Candy. “But she saved my life.”

Candy flushed. “It was nothing, Sam. You would have done the same for me.”

“She was amazing,” Sam continued. “She broke her leg jumping out of a second story window and then dragged herself back into the Motherhouse to save me.” Sam gave her a brief kiss on the lips. “Anyway, I can start constructing the Matmown right away.”

“Good,” Mary smiled, then glanced at me. “So, you captured a man immune to your powers?”

Sam’s eyes lit up. “A Warlock?”

“No, he has a black aura. Only, there’s no red fringe indicating he’s under the Zimmah spell,” I answered.

“Interesting,” Sam smiled.

“That’s one word for it,” I muttered as I led them to the elevator.

The elevator creaked down to the basement. The walls were bare, mortared concrete blocks, the floor a hard slab of more concrete. Soldiers guarded a utility room and muffled heavy metal music bled through the door. Was that Cannibal Corpse? The soldiers saluted, then they opened the door.

The assassin was handcuffed to a chair, a black bag over his head. A CIA interrogator leaned against the wall and straightened when I entered. He quickly turned the music off and the room plunged into ringing silence.

“What have you learned?” I asked.

The CIA interrogator shrugged. “Not much, my Lord. He’s Agent Jerrold Baxter, FBI. Thirteen years in the FBI, seven as an HRT sniper.” I frowned at the acronym. “Hostage Rescue Team. A counter-terrorist unit. Highly trained. No black marks on his record, three citations for bravery and one Medal of Valor, a very prestigious award in the FBI.”

Mary pulled the mask off the man then stuck a finger underneath her skirt. It came away wet with her juices and she traced a symbol on the man’s head—the Mark of Qayin. It was necessary to anchor any prayers she needed to cast on the prisoner. She murmured a Nun’s prayer, then frowned, straightening. “He’s not a Thrall.”

I looked at my wife in confusion. “What? His aura?”

“If he were a Thrall he would be staring blankly ahead,” Mary replied.

“It is possible he’s a Warlock,” Sam suggested. “If he made the right wish, perhaps it could have camouflaged his aura. Or perhaps there is a spell that can do the same.”

Mary reached down and unzipped his pants, pulling out his cock. “What the fuck!” the assassin gasped.

Mary grimaced and stroked him, then bent down and sucked his cock into her mouth. A bewildered expression filled the assassin’s face as Mary’s head bobbed up and down. I gritted my teeth, hating to see my wife degrade herself. Memories flashed through my mind of Brandon holding her face, ramming his cock into her mouth, while she pretended to love it. I fought down the bile and anger. If I could I would bring Brandon back from the dead just to put another bullet in his head.

Sweat broke out on the man’s face and I could see him struggling to resist. He fought against his orgasm for a while, but Mary never stopped sucking, one hand gently massaging his balls. She alternated between deep-throating him, and licking just the tip of his cock. He squirmed in the chair; his face grew red and his breath quickened.

“Shit!” he moaned.

Mary quickly pulled her mouth off his cock, white cum shooting up into the air, and hissed, “Shalak.” The Mark of Qayin blazed white on the man’s head and his aura became silver.

A regular mortal’s aura.

Mary coughed and spat out his cum. The CIA interrogator handed her a water bottle and she noisily washed her mouth out, spitting into the corner of the room as I studied the man. My mind whirled. A Warlock that looked like a Thrall. A quarter of the nation must be under our powers by now; a sea of people that a Warlock with the right wish or spell could hide in. I glanced at Sam: eyes furrowed, mind churning away. She was always thinking, always working out problems..

“Why did you try to kill me?” I finally asked.

His aura turned black as my power affected him. “For Liberty!” he spat. “Did you think that you could enslave our Great Nation and patriots would not rise up and fight you?”

“There are more of you?” Mary asked, walking back.

“Many,” he spat. “We will not rest until you two are dead!”

“What are their names?” I demanded.

He frowned, and struggled to talk. “I…can’t…say!” he gasped.

“Ask him what his wishes were,” Sam suggested. I did.

“I wished to be immune from another person’s control; to make my aura appear black like a Thrall’s; and that anyone who signed our pledge could not have their names revealed to the Tyrants, Mark and Mary Glassner, and any who serve them.” He laughed, an almost maniacal, unhinged sound. “You see, as long as one of us still has our Pact, no-one can be forced to reveal our names!”

“You all made a Pact?”

His grin was wild. “All the Patriots! I may have failed today, but there will be others. We shall not stop! We are everywhere! We are legion!”

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

General Gonzalo Olmos – The Governor’s Mansion, Austin, Texas

Governor Quincy Holt, the traitor to his Gods and Country, stood on the porch of the Governor’s Mansion besides the massive, white Doric columns that supported the roof. Local and national media were in attendance, filming the traitor as he prepared to make his speech declaring that Texas had seceded from the Union. The lawn was full of men and women cheering and clapping, waving Texan flags.

No US Flag flew on the mansion, only the State Flag. The Republic of Texas’s flag.

“It is with a heavy heart that I made my decision,” the traitor said into the microphones. “But I could not let the Great State of Texas fall into the hands of a false messiah. There is only one God, and his name is not Mark Glassner!”

A great cheer went up from the crowd. Signs were waved, reading: “Jesus is my savior, not Mark,” “ ‘Thou shalt have no gods before me.’ Exodus 20:3,” “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the exercise thereof!” and many more.

They were all traitors.

“General Olmos,” Captain Brentmeyers saluted.

I was the Adjutant General for the Texan National Guard. When Governor Holt mobilized the Guard to secede from the Union, I had been so sick to my stomach. His actions today would not pass unanswered. I would help my Gods preserve this Great Nation and not let some disgusting politician pull it apart like a murder of crows over a carcass. There would be no second Civil War if I could help it.

All of my soldiers agreed with me.

“Everything is ready, sir,” the captain told me, his young face pale.

“It will be okay, son,” I told him, clasping his shoulder and giving him a reassuring squeeze. “For our Country and for our Gods.”

He swallowed, straightening his back. “Yes, sir!”

The traitor continued his speech as I marched along the edge of the crowd towards the porch. My soldiers were positioned around the lawn, supposedly a show of support for the traitorous Governor. The bastard nodded to me – a jovial smile crossing his fat, ruddy face and a pleased, oily look filled his eyes as he saw me; the disgusting slug lusted for power – as I climbed the stairs to join him.

“General Olmos and I will protect…”

His oily eyes bulged in surprise as I drew my service handgun – a Colt .45 with a nickle-plated grip that I had polished until it gleamed like silver – and placed it to the traitor’s forehead. “For Mark and Mary!” I roared and executed him.

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 42.

The Devil’s Pact, Ghost of Paris Chapter 4: The Public Library

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

The Ghost of Paris Chapter Four: The Public Library

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2014


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

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

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



Click here for Chapter 3.



Friday, September 13th, 2013 – Paris, Texas

There was an away game, so there was no cheerleading practice this afternoon.

I missed those sweet, young Lionesses, and their even sweeter cooches. Every afternoon this week, just like last week, I had spent it with the cheerleaders, fucking one of them behind the bleachers, while the others practiced. It was an arrangement we reached; I had been disrupting their practices too much, so the girls started drawing straws to see who would keep me entertained.

Since I had nothing to do this afternoon, I wandered on over to the Paris Public Library. I was dressed for the first time in the two weeks since I made my Pact with the Devil. Why did I need clothes when I could turn invisible? It was strange, feeling clothes on my body: the t-shirt was tight on my chest, almost like it was strangling me, and the pants chaffed my thighs, keeping my pecker from flopping about. I stole the clothes out of the house I haunted last night; the daughter was a good tumble and her daddy was about my size.

I found an open computer and went to my favorite website: the Unearth Arcana. A website dedicated to every supernatural phenomenon you could imagine, and not just the usual bigfoot, UFO’s, and end of the world prophecies. You could find someone explaining how the layout of the major cities of Europe fell on the leylines and were part of an ancient Druidic summoning spell to bring forth Samhain in the year 2035.

I loved this shit; eager to see what the whackjobs had come up with next.

Of course, it wasn’t all bullshit—I did learn how to summon the Devil on this very forum. In fact, that was the first thread I checked out on the message board. As I scrolled through the pages of post, it seemed more people were posting that they made their Pacts. My favorite was a guy in Scotland that wished to have superman’s powers and posted a link of him melting a soda-pop can with his heat vision.

Finished with the Pact thread, I checked out what was new in the paranormal. One post title caught my eye: The Ghost of Paris.

I smiled, opening up the post and reading about my adventures. It was full of quotes from tweets, facebook pages, and other social media posts of the girls I had been playing with. “I have spoken to several girls that claim to have been molested by the ghost,” ghostXhunt wrote. “The ghost preys on young girls and women, using them to satisfy his unnatural lusts.”

I tried not to chortle in excitement, ghostXhunt investigated a lot of hauntings, and it was flattering to think she had traveled out to Paris because of me. Man, I hope I see her around town; she’s one mighty fine looking gal. “Often the ghost spends an entire night preying on one girl. What is truly interesting is all the girls found the experience to be quite pleasant. One girl, wishing to remain anonymous, told me the ghost has visited her room three times in the night and she’s eagerly awaiting a fourth.”

That must be Heather, a smoking-hot red-head that was quite a screamer; good thing her parent’s bedroom was at the other side of the house. She was the first girl I ever spent the night with as the Ghost. In fact, I was with her just two nights ago and fucked her ass for the first time. My pecker was growing hard just thinking about her fine, young body and that tight, wet hole between her thighs.

I glanced at the librarian, Miss Cheshire, who was looking sexy as hell with her tawny hair pinned up and those small glasses perched on her cute, little nose. I let my gaze slide down and eyed the tits that filled out her gray blouse.

I licked my lips as I stared at the Ghost of Paris’s next victim.

In the bathroom, I striped naked and stashed my clothes. I concentrated and my body vanished. I smiled; I was free again. Why did I even bother wearing clothes? I could have just used the computer invisible. So what if anyone saw me; I’m the fucking Ghost of Paris and I could do whatever the hell I wanted.

Who could stop me?

I stalked out of the bathroom, heading towards the counter. Miss Cheshire was helping an old woman, using one of those scanners – like the ones you see at the grocery store that shines all of those red lights to ring up your purchase – on the book’s barcode. School was still in session and the library was mostly empty; only a few, old broads, part of some sort of club, were hanging around.

“I reckon you’ll enjoy this one, Mrs. Crabapple,” drawled Miss Cheshire. Her voice sounded as sweet as honey dripping over moist cornbread.

To get behind the counter, there was a section of it that folds up, and both Miss Cheshire and Mrs. Crabapple didn’t notice me lift it. They sure as shit jumped when it slammed back into place, looking about like a pair of startled jackrabbits peaking out of their holes.

“Good Lord almighty, what was that?” Mrs. Crabapple gasped.

Miss Cheshire frowned at the counter. “I’m not rightly sure.”

I padded silently behind Miss Cheshire, admiring her fine rear beneath the soot-black skirt. My pecker hardened as I stared at the ass, and I shuddered as the tip of my cock brushed the fabric of her skirt, poking her soft cheeks. Miss Cheshire had absently wiped at her butt, brushing my pecker and sending electricity shooting through me. She frowned, peering behind her. She saw right through me and shook her head in confusion.

“Is something wrong, sweety?” Mrs. Crabapple asked, peering around the librarian.

Mrs. Crabapple and I do not get along. She hates me; when I walked into the library this morning, the glare Mrs. Crabapple leveled at me could have peeled paint. So I flipped the old biddy off, practically sticking my invisible finger in her face. The old hag once made a fuss because I was surfing porn on a library computer. Almost got me arrested before someone remembered that porn is just free speech. After the charges were dropped, Mrs. Crabapple and Happy Roberts had led a crusade to get me kicked out of the library. Happy – the wife of the reverend at the Paris Revival for Christ – was misnamed, a shrewish woman that always seemed to frown, at least when I’m around. Maybe this Sunday, I’d pay a visit to her church and put a smile on her face.

“Must be my ‘magination,” Miss Cheshire replied, turning to hand Mrs. Crabapple the books. “Well, you take care now, y’hear.”

The old biddy bent over, whispering conspiratorially, “I saw that good-for-nothing Scotty Adams lurking in the library. You watch out. The man’s a right piece of work.”

“I’ll be right as rain.”

Anger boiled in me. I was tempted to show her just how much of a ‘good-for-nothing’ I could be and torment the dried-up bitch, but my pecker was hard and Miss Cheshire’s rear was far too inviting to give up.

There’ll be a next time, I promised myself.

I turned my attention back to Miss Cheshire. She scanned a pile of books, checking them in, I guessed. Her tawny hair was pinned up in a bun, but an errant lock escaped and lay on the slope of her neck. I reached out and brushed it, breathing on her. Miss Cheshire yelped as she jumped, peering around, her fine bosom heaving beneath her blouse.

She shook her head, and turned back to her scanning, and I reached out and brushed her arm below the sleeve of her blouse. She whirled about and her arm bumped into me and she froze. “What in tarnation?” she muttered as her hand felt my chest. “You’re the ghost them highschool girls been talkin’ ’bout?”

“You’ve heard of me?” I asked, trying to sound as ghostly as possible. “Then you know I’m mighty attracted to purtee girls.”

A flush crept on her face, and I reached out and caressed her cheek.

Slam!

We both jumped. Another of those old biddies tossed a pair of hardback books on the counter. “I don’t have all day while you woolgather, missy!” she barked at Miss Cheshire.

“Sorry.” The librarian whirled about and I pressed my pecker against her plump rear. The librarian wiggled her ass saucily back into me and I enjoyed the sensation of my cock’s head rubbing against the rough fabric of her skirt, as she checked out the woman’s books.

“Young ‘uns these days,” the old woman muttered darkly.

I grabbed the hem of her skirt and started slowly hiking it up. I could feel Miss Cheshire freeze, glancing nervously over her shoulder. “What’re you doin’?” she asked me.

“Placin’ my books in my bag,” the old woman responded indignantly to Miss Cheshire’s question. “If that’s a’ight with you, missy.”

“Oh, yes, right. I’m sorry.” Miss Cheshire was growing flustered as my hands rubbed her surprisingly racy, red panties that clung to her ass. I slid my finger down her panties and felt the warmth of her cooch beneath the fabric. I began stroking her, feeling her moisture soaking into the material.

“Ohh, you have a…a nice day, Mrs. Fairburn,” the librarian stammered, a creep of passion invading her voice.

The old lady snorted as she stalked off, her cane tapping on the library floor, and muttered darkly under her breath.

“You gotta stop,” Miss Cheshire pleaded. “There are people here.”

I pulled the crotch of her panties to the side and ran my finger across her shaved cooch. “I reckon you wouldn’t be so wet if you wanted me to stop, sweetness.” I shoved a finger up inside her warm depths and she gasped. Stirring my finger in her honeypot, I asked her, “Your cooch is dyin’ for my pecker, ain’t it?”

“We can go back into the storeroom,” she pleaded.

“Naw.” I pulled out my finger, grabbed my pecker, and shoved it right on into her wonderfully warm cooch. “Funner this way.”

I started to slowly fuck her, reveling in the feel of her cooch about my pecker. She was wet, and pretty tight. Not as tight as one of them sweet, young teens I’ve fucked, but her cunt was getting the job done. She braced herself against the counter, breathing heavily, as I pumped into her.

Her cunt tightened on me and she whispered fearfully, “Someone’s comin’.”

“Not yet I ain’t. But soon, sweetness. Don’t you worry your purtee, lil head ’bout it.”

“No, a patron.” I kept right on fucking her; no way in hell was I going to stop. Her cooch was first class!

Another old lady walked up, hanging onto a black, wheeled walker. “I can’t believe how rude Mrs. Fairburn was to you, darlin’.”

“Oh, um, it’s ah’ite, Mrs. Hale,” Miss Cheshire answered. She grabbed the old lady’s first book and then dropped it; a soft moan escaped her lips and I felt her juicy cunt spasming on my cock. “Umm, wow,” she muttered.

Mrs. Hale squinted at the librarian through coke-bottle-thick glasses. “Are you okay? You seem flushed?”

“Um, I…ohh! I’m cummin’…” she moaned again. She was cumming hard on my cock, and I just kept fucking away at her. “Oh sweet Jesus I’m cummin’!” I felt her tense as she realized what she just shouted out before this old lady, so she quickly blurted out, “I’m comin’ down with a cold, Mrs. Hale.”

Mrs. Hale reached out and grabbed her hand. “You gotta take care of yourself, okay darlin’.”

“I…oh gosh…” I could feel another orgasm spasming through her body and she leaned over, pressing her ass back into my groin. I gripped her hips and fucked her harder.

“Stomach cramps?” the old lady asked. “I can hear your tummy a rumblin’.”

“They just won’t, ohh, stop cummin’!” the librarian moaned as she kept cumming and cumming.

The air was filled with her tart scent and I could hear the squishing sound of my pecker sliding in and out of her dripping cooch; it was such a lewd, depraved sound. Goddamn, this was turning into a wild fuck. I slammed into her, every thrust bringing my balls closer and closer to exploding. Her hips pushed back against me and she was biting her hand to stifle her screams of passion.

I exploded into her and her cunt was a vice as it squeezed powerfully on my pecker. Her head snapped back and she yelled loudly. Mrs. Hale jumped back, almost falling over in shock and peered with concern at Miss Cheshire as she slumped her head on the counter. I pulled out of her cunt and gave her ass a slap.

Breathing heavily, Miss Cheshire straightened up, wiping at her sweaty forehead with a handkerchief she pulled out of her skirt’s pocket. “Whew, I reckon it’s over.”

“You should go home,” Mrs. Hale pressed.

“Thank you kindly for your concern, but I’m feelin’ so much better.” She handed Mrs. Hale her books, and when the old gal tottered off, she turned around, asking, “Are you still here?”

“Sure thang, sweetness.”

She smiled at me. “You’re right, it is funner when there’s an audience.”

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 5.

The Devil’s Pact Chapter 40: The Patriots

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Chapter 40: The Patriots

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2013, 2014


Story Codes: Male/Teen female, Female/Female, Male/Female, Female/Teen female, Male/Female/Teen female, Mind Control, Magic, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Ass to Mouth, Ass to Pussy, Rimming, Exhibitionism, Incest, Wife, Wedded Lust

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 39.



The Tyrants, Mark and Mary Glassner, represent the greatest threat to Liberty in human history. As the great Statesmen Thomas Jefferson wrote in ‘The Declaration of Independence’, “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they were endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that amongst these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.” To this end, we the Patriots of the United States, shall bring about the Tyrants’ death, and restore a state of Liberty to all those they have enslaved. Our forefathers shed their blood to keep this Country Free; we shall not hesitate to shed ours.

–excerpt from ‘The Patriots Manifesto’, author Unknown

Tuesday, October 1st, 2013 – Mark Glassner – Murano Hotel, Tacoma, WA

A light rap woke me up.

I was in a strange room; panic seized me. Where was I? Did Brandon capture me?

No, Brandon’s dead. I had him executed yesterday. Relief flooded through me. Then where was I? Not my bedroom. Then I remembered—Brandon had burned our house down, destroying every possession and memory we had made. I was in the largest suite of the Hotel Murano in downtown Tacoma. It was our temporary home until the mansion could be constructed.

Mary slept next to me, her arms wrapped tightly about me, as if she was afraid even in sleep to let go of me. Locks of auburn hair spilled across my chest like silken flames. I felt safe in her arms, loved, and I kissed my wife’s freckled cheek.

There was another rap, slightly harder. I tried to sit up, but Mary had me in such a tight grip. She seemed terrified to let go of me, not that I blamed her after Brandon’s attack. This weekend had been a close one; I thought I was going to die, but Mary had been spectacular. I felt pride bloom in my chest as I remembered the courage she had displayed.

I shook Mary and she stirred and smiled as she looked up at me.

“Good morning,” she purred and kissed me on the lips.

The rap was even harder.

“What?” I asked in some irritation. My cock was growing hard as my wife’s body pressed against me.

The door opened; April and Lillian walked in bearing covered trays. Lillian wore a sexy, French-maid outfit with a bodice so low-cut her breasts looked like they were about to fall out if she bent over. About her narrow hips clung an extremely short skirt that showed off her fine legs, clad in fishnet stockings. Black hair, streaked with blues and purples, was gathered into a pair of pigtails that added an innocent look to her whorish outfit.

April wore her glasses, and her youthful face was surrounded by her thick, brown hair. Instead of a maid’s outfit she wore a naughty schoolgirl’s uniform: a white blouse, knotted just below her budding breasts to expose her flat stomach; a very short blue-and-purple tartan skirt that rode low on her hips; and knee-high, white socks added that sexy yet virginal look that made my cock ache. I could feel Mary’s breath quicken at the sight of them. Tight about both girls’ necks were gold chokers that proclaimed them to be our sluts; they looked it this morning.

“Your mother asked us to bring you breakfast,” April explained.

“And the outfits?” Mary asked. “I know you didn’t have those yesterday.”

Lillian laughed, “Well, after you and Master retired for the night we raided a sex shop. Well, all of us except for Alison and Desiree.” She spun about carefully. “Do you like it?”

“You two look delicious!” Mary purred.

“Would you like breakfast first, or us?” April asked, batting her eyelashes at me.

“You,” Mary and I said in unison.

April walked around to my side of the bed while Lillian strutted around to Mary’s. April set her tray – silver, the edge worked with a rope-like pattern, and a matching dome covered the food to keep it warm – down on the nightstand. I threw back the covers and my hot little schoolgirl crawled in and kissed me on the lips. I stroked her full, brown hair, then slid my hand down to rub her flat belly. My child grew inside her; according to Willow I knocked her up the day I took her virginity.

April rolled on top of me, rubbing her naked pussy into my stomach. She was shaved bare and dripping wet, staining my abs with her juices. She broke the kiss and started moving lower, her lips warm as she smooched down my body; her thick hair tickled like silk on my chest. When she reached my stomach, I squirmed as her tongue licked up the puddle her cunt left behind.

Next to me, Mary had pulled Lillian on top of her and freed her left breast, sucking Lillian’s nipple into her hungry lips. Lillian smiled at me; her piercings glinted silver on her eyebrow, nose, and lip. Mary released the hard nipple and grabbed Lillian’s pigtails. “Eat my pussy, slut!” Mary commanded.

“I’d love to, Mistress,” Lillian cooed and wiggled down Mary’s body, pulling the covers away and exposing my wife’s waxed and dripping cunt.

April’s wet mouth reached my cock and she kissed her way up the shaft. She looked so cute as her tongue started tracing the rim of my mushroom-shaped cockhead. “You little minx,” I groaned as her mouth engulfed my cock.

She smiled around my dick, her eyes flashing blue behind her glasses. Then she began bobbing her head. The naughty schoolgirl was hungry for my cum. One hand pumped my shaft, the other massaged my balls. She twisted her mouth around as she moved on my dick, brushing my cock against her cheeks and the roof of her mouth.

“Cock-hungry slut!” I groaned.

She popped off my cock just long enough to giggle, “Of course I am. It tastes so delicious, Master!”

Mary moaned and I glanced over to see her using Lillian’s pigtails as handlebars, guiding the slut’s mouth on her pussy. “Yes, right there!” Mary moaned. “Suck right there, whore!”

April’s mouth was bringing me to a boil. “Gonna cum!” I grunted.

April knew what to do: her mouth released my cock, and she rapidly pumped my shaft with her hand. My muscles tensed as my balls emptied themselves, spraying her face and glasses with streaks of ropey cum. She smiled happily, licking a glob that landed by her lips. More strands fell across her glasses, cheeks, forehead, and hair; sticky whiteness striped her innocent face with depravity.

“Fuck that’s hot!” Mary gasped, staring at April. Then her back arched and she gasped as an orgasm flooded her body. Lillian looked like the cat who got all the cream as she sat up, licking her pussy-stained lips.

“Let’s switch,” Mary panted, still eying April’s cum-splattered glasses.

I glanced at Lillian and her sexy maid’s outfit and nodded. “Come ride my cock, slut. Reverse cowgirl. I want to watch that ass beneath your skirt.”

Lillian stood up, walking around the bed as Mary grabbed April and pulled her off of me, stretching the schoolgirl out on the bed. Mary settled her weight atop April, her fingers quickly unknotting the slut’s blouse. Budding breasts spilled out and Mary sucked a dark nipple into her mouth before licking up to April’s face.

I almost came in Lillian’s cunt as she slid it down my cock. It was so fucking hot watching Mary lick my cum off the girl’s face. She moved up to April’s glasses, her tongue sliding pink across the lens and scooping up a smear of cum. Mary’s ass flexed as she began tribbing the slut, rubbing her clit against the schoolgirl’s.

“That’s so hot, Mare!”

Mary grinned at me, my cum on her lips. “Give my stallion a good ride, Lillian!”

“Yes, Mistress!” Lillian moaned as she fucked me.

I glanced at her ass. When Lillian rose up, the skirt would lift up as well, exposing her sexy cheeks. When she slammed down, the skirt would fall back to cover her ass. Then she would rise up and expose that beautiful butt all over again. The flash of flesh above my cock added a thrilling excitement. Lillian began to add a twist, shaking her ass side-to-side as she rode me, her cunt rubbing tightly around my cock.

“Oh Mistress!” April moaned. “Your pussy feels so good on me! Umm, thank you! Thank you!”

“Faster!” I urged Lillian. “Fuck me hard and fast, slut!”

Lillian picked up the pace, her pigtails flailing about as she threw her head back-and-forth in pleasure. Her cunt started massaging my cock as an orgasm rolled through the slut; her snatch felt wonderful about my shaft as she came. She kept right on riding my cock—she knew her duty as a slut was to give me pleasure.

“Our nipples are kissing!” April panted.

“Your little cunt is driving mine wild,” Mary purred into April’s ears. “Cum with me, slut! Let’s flood each other with our juices!”

“Yes, yes! Just a little more, Mistress! Umm, I love it when our clits kiss!”

“Shit! You little whore! I’m cumming all over your cunt!”

“So am I!” April howled. “I’m cumming! Thank you, thank you, Mistress!”

Lillian bounced hard on my cock, plunging me in and out of her tight tunnel. “Cum in me, Master! Please, my naughty pussy needs your cum! My cunt missed you so much, Master!”

I grabbed her hips and slammed her all the way down onto my cock and erupted into her. “There you go, slut! Devour my cum!” I grunted as my entire body tensed in pleasure.

The feeling of my jizz shooting inside her pussy sent Lillian shuddering in passion. “Yes, yes! I love to feel your cum shooting inside me!”

She slid off me, turned around and snuggled against my chest with a happy sigh. April nuzzled at Mary’s neck as the two held each other. My hand reached out and I found my wife’s. I stroked it gently, then squeezed softly. I smiled as her fingers lovingly clasped about my hand.

“Oh no!” Mary suddenly gasped, quickly untangling herself from April, and dashed for the bathroom. “This is all your fault, Mark Glassner!” Mary moaned from the bathroom.

Mary’s bout of morning sickness wasn’t that bad and, after I helped to clean her up, we ate our delicious breakfast. Mary’s was light—strawberry pancakes and a bowl of berries. My plate had scrambled eggs, waffles topped with bananas, bacon, and sausages. I guessed my mom wanted to make sure I ate enough. I was famished, and finished it off before Mary was even done with her pancakes.

We had a busy day ahead of us. We needed to solidify our control over the country; the heads of all the Federal Agencies were supposed to be on their way here, and that was a start. Mary and I talked for an hour, discussing various ways to exert our control over the government. We settled on Video Conferences; we would arrange live broadcasts for government employees to watch at work, placing them under our power.

When we finished breakfast and talking, Jessica walked in with a manila file folder in hand. She found a sexy genie outfit: green, transparent pantaloons and a transparent boob tube over which she wore a small vest decorated with gold embroidery. The outfit was probably supposed to be worn with underwear but I’m glad she didn’t because I enjoyed seeing her shaved cunt and caramel breasts through the fabric.

“Masters,” Jessica said, sitting on the bed. “The Country and the World are in a lot of turmoil, which is to be expected. The Governors of New Hampshire, Texas, Florida, and California are openly talking about mobilizing their National Guard units to protect themselves from ‘the Tyrants of the Northwest.’ Congress is split; both the Republican and Democratic parties are being ripped apart as roughly half of congress seeks to impeach the President and the other half sings your praises. It almost came to blows. I’ve never seen C-SPAN so entertaining before.”

I groaned. We needed to get the State Governors and Congress under our thumbs, before this spins out of control. “What else?”

“Riots,” Jessica sighed. “Between Miraclists on one side and Christians, Muslims, and Orthodox Jews on the other. Particularly in the Mid-West and the South.”

“What about the International reaction?” Mary asked, nibbling on a strawberry.

“Muslim nations are universally condemning you two as the new Great Satans and there must be a thousand fatwas being declared against you. Europe is split. Many EU heads-of-state were watching the events here in Tacoma, but not all of them – just like here in the States – caught it live. The Prime Minister of the United Kingdoms supports you, but he’s probably going to lose power. There’s a vote of no-confidence going to be brought before Parliament tomorrow. Also expect the UN to try and pass some sort of resolution against you today.”

Her news just seemed to get even worse. Every military in the world was being mobilized to either support or oppose us. Trading was halted on the New York Stock Exchange as the indexes plummeted, and the Asian and European Markets were crashing as a growing lack of confidence in the American economy was spreading.

“Is that it?” I sighed. This was going to be a lot harder than I thought.

Jessica shook her head no. “At the end of July, a Professor Scrivener was killed. Brandon Fitzsimmons was a person of interest in his death. Apparently, the Professor left behind some documents pointing the finger at Brandon. These documents, and the Professor’s translation of the Magicks of the Witch of Endor, ended up on the internet. They first appeared on the University of Wisconsin’s website, and from there they’ve spread to a number of occult or New Age sites. The largest site it’s found on is UnearthedArcana.com where dozens of people have posted that they’ve made Pacts with Lucifer.”

“Are you saying there are dozens of Warlocks that’ve popped up?” I asked.

“Yes, Master. If dozens are posting that they’ve done it, how many are staying silent? Only a minority of people ever comment out of the hundreds that see something on the internet.”

“There could be hundreds of Warlocks out there?”

“Fuck,” Mary whispered.

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

Sunday, October 6th, 2013 – Mark Glassner – Washington D.C.

Korina smiled at me – lighting up her doll’s face and seeming to make her sapphire eyes twinkle – as she slipped out of the slutty maid’s outfit, the black dress falling in a pile about her feet. She was naked underneath – like a good little slut should be – and her large breasts jiggled as the plane flew through a patch of turbulence. My cock was hard, eager to be inside her cunt.

I was in the bedroom of Air Force One. I commandeered it from the President. He could fly on one of the many VIP planes the Air Force maintained for other important dignitaries now that the USA was subordinate to our Theocracy. There was a nice, if not spacious, cabin with a bed on the plane for the President’s use, which I currently lay naked on. Desiree and Alison slept next to me—cuddled cutely together.

In the week since we defeated Brandon and declared ourselves Gods and Protectors of the United States and the World, Mary and I had been busy. Giving interviews, making phone calls, trying to get as many people in power as possible under our control. We started with the Federal Agencies. When the President summoned them to Washington State the Director of the CIA, the Department of Energy, and the Chairmen of the Federal Reserve all resigned in protest; their replacements were much more amenable. All the Federal Agencies were now run by people under our power and this week we were going to start the video conferences to get federal employees, particularly the law enforcement and spy agencies, under our umbrella.

I was flying alone to Washington D.C. to make Congress our Thralls, while Mary was heading to a meeting of State Governors in New York City to do the same thing. Then she was going to work on the UN who had been busy trying to pass sanctions on the US and our Theocracy. I hated being apart from my wife, but we could get more done separately then together. I tried not to fear for her safety, reminding myself that she had a battalion of soldiers and bodyguards to protect her.

The Military was one of the first things we got under our thumb. The only US Forces not under our control were in Afghanistan—General Brice Fear had refused the President’s orders. His army was split between commanders loyal to him and commanders under our power. The two forces have been skirmishing in Kabul for two days now.

I pulled Korina to me, kissing her on the lips, feeling her body press up against mine. I loved the feel of her breasts pillowing against my chest. Our kiss grew more passionate and I pulled her down to the bed.

“Mmm, you feel all hard and ready for me,” Korina cooed. “Which slutty hole should I use to satisfy you, Master?”

“Why don’t you choose,” I told her and a big grin filled her face.

She rolled off of me, facedown on the bed, sliding a pillow beneath her stomach, which raised up her plump ass. She wiggled it invitingly at me and I slid on top of her, kissing at her neck. “Good choice, slut.”

“Thank you, Master!” she cried out as I rammed my dick into her pussy, getting a nice coating of juices on my cock.

I pulled out of her inviting cunt, spread her asscheeks and placed the head of my shaft at her puckered hole. I pushed slowly, softly groaning as her tight ass enveloped my cock. Korina panted, looking back at me with a happy smile as I drove all the way into her taut embrace. I drew back, savoring the pleasure of her bowels, before driving back in.

“I love your ass, slut!”

“Thank you, Master! I live to pleasure you and Mistress! It’s what I was born for.”

I heard a giggle and glanced over to see Alison and Desiree watching. Alison was on top of Desiree, their breasts and cheeks mashed together, chokers glinting gold about their necks. A female soldier had returned Desiree’s choker the day after we defeated Brandon, begging her forgiveness for taking it. Desiree forgave her by fucking her up the ass with a strap-on, followed by Alison; the soldier loved every second of it.

“Fuck her hard, Master,” Alison purred.

Desiree smiled, wonderful, beautiful, bringing joy to my heart. Alison had managed to bring the Latina woman out of her shell after Brandon’s brutal rapes. Desiree wrapped her legs around her wife’s hips and pulled Alison’s pussy against hers. Alison kissed her wife, rotating her hips as the women tribbed each other. I kept pounding Korina’s ass and watched the beautiful women make love.

“¡Mi Sirenita! Desiree moaned as she tribbed Alison back.

I gripped Korina’s hips and pumped faster into her ass. “Yes, yes! Fuck me, Master! Use me for your pleasure! Oh fuck! Your cock is the best! I love you! Oh, yes! You’re driving me crazy! Harder! I’m your bitch! Fuck me like one!”

My balls slapped at her cunt – adding a wet, staccato beat to our rutting, a primal rhythm – as I pounded her asshole. “Fucking whore! Your ass is going to make me cum, slut!”

“Cum in me! Please! I love it when I feel your jizz inside me, Master!”

I buried into her warm depths and groaned, shooting her full of my seed. Her bowels clenched about my cock as her orgasm exploded through her. I laid on top of her, enjoying the feel of her asshole massaging my softening cock as I watched Alison’s ass flex as she pumped faster and faster on Desiree.

They were kissing passionately, both bucking and shuddering. Alison broke the kiss, her back arching. “Holy shit! I love you, Desiree! I love it when your pussy creams all over mine!”

“Cum for me!” Desiree panted, grasping Alison’s breast and playing with her pierced nipple. “Cum my love!”

Alison drove her cunt one last time into Desiree, her ass clenching as her orgasm tore through her, then she collapsed on her wife and the pair kissed and murmured affections to each other. God, it made me miss my own wife.

As Korina started licking my cock clean of her ass like a good slut, I sent a thought to Mary. I love you.

Oh, I love you, too, Mark, her thought came back. I could feel her lust; she was fucking someone.

Who’re you fucking?

This cute bellhop, though his dick isn’t as great as yours.

My cock was hard, Korina had it in her mouth. Alison had joined her, helping her lick my cock clean. Alison’s tongue drew up my shaft, her tongue’s piercing hard and smooth in contrast to her soft tongue. She reached the top, brushing Korina’s tongue, and the two sluts kissed each other about my dick’s head.

Close your eyes and pretend it’s my cock inside you, I sent. You’re riding your horny stallion, your back arched and my cock’s driving you crazy.

Oh yes! Oh God, I’m riding your cock, stud! Umm, it feels so great as I slid up and down on it!

Korina’s mouth popped off my cock and I groaned as Alison’s pierced tongue swirled around the head, the metal adding a thrilling sensation. Desiree knelt behind Korina, spreading her butt-cheeks, and bending down to suck my cum out of the slut’s dirty asshole.

Oh Mark! I’m gonna cum! Yes, yes! Oh, I so wish it was you inside me! I could feel her passionate climax through the Siyach spell.

I’m cumming in Alison’s mouth, Mare! I moaned. Feeling her climax sent me over the edge, and I flooded the slut’s lips.

I miss you, Mark, Mary sent, the passion dying away from her thoughts. Umm, Xiu is licking me clean of his cum.

“Sir,” Joslyn’s voice came over the intercom. Joslyn, along with Lydia, were the pilots. “We’ll be landing soon!”

We’re about to land, Mare.

I think I’m going to fall asleep with Xiu nursing at my clit.

Good night, my naughty filly. I love you.

Love ya. I could feel her drifting off to sleep.

Alison and Korina were kissing, swapping my cum as I started getting dressed in my suit. The sluts all, sadly, stopped playing around with each other and found their slutty maid outfits, then we left the small cabin. 51 and four squads of the bodyguard were taking their seats in the main cabin of the plane. Violet, dressed like a naughty schoolgirl, gave me a kiss on the mouth and sat on my lap. I had four sluts with me, the other four were with Mary.

Our bodyguard had tripled in the last week. Female cops from across the country flocked to Tacoma to volunteer to protect us, so Mary and I freed the original bodyguards that we had forced to serve us. 51 chose to stay – provided that I reunited her with her husband – along with a third of the other girls. The rest returned to their families and jobs. I’m glad 51 and 27 remained—we three survived Brandon’s attack together. Since the second-in-command, 47, quit, I promoted 27 to her position. She more than earned it that weekend.

I looked out the window and saw a C-130 flying in formation with us. There were another three of those carrying elements of the Legion—the army that swore me their allegiance and that I had bound with the Ragily prayer, the Monk version of the Zimmah spell. We had yet to find my limit as to how many I could bind with the Ragily prayer, and already 10,000 members of the Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marines had taken the oath. Along with the C-130s, a squadron of F-22 Raptors flew in formation around us. Mary had a similar force guarding her in New York City.

We came in for a landing at Andrews Air Force Base outside of Washington D.C. Awaiting our arrival was an honor guard, made up of advanced elements of the Legion and the bodyguards, and a fleet of SUVs, Humvees, and Strykers that would escort my armored limo. It may be overkill, but I was taking no more chances. Brandon showed me just how dangerous a Warlock could be.

There were dozens, if not hundreds, of Warlocks out there, each with access to the Magicks of the Witch of Endor and capable of threatening us. We had the FBI shut down UnearthArcana.com and any other websites where the translation appeared. Every time one was taken down, two more sprouted up like the severed head of the Hydra, on overseas sites in Russia, China, and other countries. Hackers and other internet freedom groups were starting to cause all sorts of problems from DOS attacks to releasing sensitive information.

Something had to be done about all these Warlocks. Jessica had given me a report of suspected Warlock activity. There was this Ghost of Paris that seemed to have knocked up half of a cheerleading squad in Texas and was daily molesting the women of the town. In South America, three separate men were fighting each other in Brazil, sending the country and its neighbors spiraling into chaos. A fourteen-year-old boy had just been elected President-for-Life in Spain, and in St. Paul, Minnesota a man calling himself Dr. Arthursson opened a clinic where he could reshape any woman to her ideal appearance in moments. He was charging a fortune for his services. One gave me a chuckle. In Glasgow, Scotland a man was flying around claiming he was Superman, complete with the tights and cape.

I bet Sam could figure out a spell to track down all these Warlocks. We needed to deal with them before things got too out of hand. She was supposed to be back from France in a day or two; was almost finished with her study of the Hidden Place in the basement of the Nun’s Motherhouse.

Stairs were wheeled up to Air Force One and half of my bodyguards, led by 51, quickly went down them, dressed in their slutty cop outfits and armed with a mix of MP5s and M16s. Then Alison and Desiree descended, followed by me, with Violet, Korina, and the other half of the bodyguards bringing up the rear. The media was on hand, cameras flashing, and I waved to them as I walked to the armored limo.

Leah was waiting for me, smiling as she held the door open. She looked hot in her short, black skirt, fishnet stockings, and white bustier; a red-and-blue tie fell invitingly between her cleavage. A small, black jacket and a chauffeur’s cap completed the outfit.

“My Lord,” Leah murmured.

I stroked her cheek and gave her a kiss on the lips; she blushed prettily. Next time I was home, I needed to bring Leah and her wife to my bed. Mary would enjoy that, she liked the two women. Their husband Jacob wouldn’t mind; I’d send him a few of the sluts to keep him busy.

My cock was hard just from looking at her; why wait for home? I kissed her a second time, pressing her against the body of the limo while my hand shoved into the cup of her bustier, feeling her large tit squeeze between my fingers. Her kiss grew passionate, her right leg hiking up, hooking around my left, and feistily rubbing up and down the back of mine.

I could hear the flash of cameras as the reporters immortalized the moment. Her hands found the zipper of my pants, pulling my cock out. I lifted her up, letting my cock prod her wet cunt. She moaned into my lips as I sank into her; there were no panties to get in the way. Her wet, warm sheath engulfed me, and I started pounding her cunt like a madman.

“Fuck me, my Lord!” she moaned, tossing her brown curls and humping her hips back into me. “Oh yes! Oh yes! I love it when you fuck me!”

Her moans were being broadcast live to the world. Like a firecracker, she went off fast and loud, her cunt squeezing my cock. It was so exciting – feeling her cunt massage my cock, knowing thousands were watching me fucking this slut in their homes – and I knew I wasn’t going to last long. With a few hard thrusts, I shot my cum into her pussy, moaning loudly, and enjoying that tense feeling passing through my body as I released my passion into a woman’s snatch.

“Thank you, my Lord!” she breathed as I pulled away, straightening her skirt.

“You’re welcome,” I told her, giving her ass a friendly squeeze, and then I piled into the back of the limo.

A few minutes later, we were driving away from the airfield and into the capitol, Alison cuddled on one side of me and Desiree on the other. The local police had shut down the highway and surface streets, and my motorcade made good time to the Willard Intercontinental, the hotel I was staying at. Out front, a large crowd of cheering people had gathered. I could see mostly black auras, belonging to Thralls, with a few silver auras – regular mortals – interspersed here and there.

When I got out of the limo, I let the crowds’ worshipful cheers wash over me. It was the most intoxicating thing in the world. Soldiers formed a small aisle through the crowd to the hotel’s entrance, and I shook hands and groped bared breasts as I slowly made my way to the lobby, my eyes roving for the perfect woman to take upstairs with me.

It was my custom now on these out-of-town trips to pick a lucky gal. Whether it was Mary and I together picking a woman, or just me on my own. I never looked for any particular woman, just whoever caught my eye. And tonight it was a teenage girl with a heart-shaped face. She looked so innocent with her plaited black hair and jean jacket. Next to her stood a more mature version of the girl, a woman in her late thirties. The daughter was taller, and barely had any tits, while the mom was short and very busty.

I motioned to the women and they both shrieked ecstatically. There was a tall man who the mother kissed and the daughter hugged, and he looked proud as his wife and daughter were brought to me. I wrapped my arms around each of them and kissed first the mom and then the daughter on the lips, before I took them into the hotel.

“I can’t believe you chose us, my Lord,” the teenage girl gushed. “Marcy and Amy will be so jealous!”

Her mother was crimson faced, breathing heavily. “Relax,” I told her and kissed her again.

“I’m sorry, this is just so exciting!” the mom gushed. “I’m mean, it’s you! When we joined the Living Church last August I never thought in a million years that you would ever bless me.”

“So you two are true believes?” I asked. “Let’s see if you follow the tenets.”

The mom lifted up her dress first, exposing a shaved pussy with fat, dark lips hanging an inch down. The daughter followed, raising the hem of her jean skirt and I saw a dark, black bush and just the hint of a tight slit.

“What’re your names?” I asked, reaching out to rub both of their pussies. They were both wet and I probed my finger up their snatches.

“I’m Tibby and this is my daughter Bryanna!” the mom gasped as I slowly fingerfucked her.

I pulled my fingers out of their cunts. Tibby tasted tart while Bryanna had a spicy, fresh flavor. The elevator dinged and I ushered the ladies inside the gilded box. The sluts and some of the bodyguards crowded in and we were heading up to the penthouse suite, where more bodyguards waited. They had arrived yesterday, an advance team to make sure everything was secure and ready for my arrival.

I led the mother and daughter to my bedroom, motioning at Violet to follow. It was richly furnished and very modern looking; weird lines and strange shapes abounded. Mary would probably have liked it—she was an artist—I didn’t get this stuff at all. I sat down on a chair; its strange back, curving over my head, was a little uncomfortable. Maybe it wasn’t intended to be sat on, but then why make it to begin with? Violet knew what to do, and knelt down and unzipped me and pulled my hard cock out.

Bryanna’s breath caught as she saw it. “It’s different than daddy’s.”

“Your dad is uncircumcised,” Tibby explained as Violet’s tongue danced across the head of my cock.

“Ohh,” Bryanna said as her mom pulled off her thick sweater to reveal a pair of lush breasts barely contained by a lacy bra.

“Have either of you been with a woman before?” I asked them.

“No,” Tibby answered, and Bryanna shook her head and blushed.

“Why not?”

“Well, we’re straight,” answered Tibby.

“You’ve just realized that you’re bisexual,” I ordered. “And that you are deeply attracted to each other. Why don’t you two get naked and explore these new feelings.”

“Wow, mom,” Bryanna cooed. “That is a nice pair of hooters ya got.”

Tibby reached behind her and unclasped her bra and freed her large breasts. They sagged a bit, but still looked great with large areolas and fat nipples. “Why don’t you give them a feel?” she suggested to her daughter.

As Violet’s mouth sucked my cock into her lips, Bryanna reached out and tentatively gave her mother’s tit a squeeze. The teen’s mouth opened in amazement as she began to knead the heavy orb. “I used to nurse from these, didn’t I?”

“You did. I loved it. I felt so close to you when you nursed.”

Bryanna ducked her head down and sucked her mother’s nipple into her lips. I grabbed Violet’s pigtails and began forcing her head up and down on my cock. I couldn’t take my eyes off the women; I loved watching mothers and daughters fuck.

Tibby mewled in pleasure, cradling her child’s head to her breast. “Oh duckling, that feels wonderful! Suck at momma’s tit! I love you so much!”

Bryanna released the nipple. “I love you too, momma!” Then she stood up and kissed her mother on the lips. Tibby melted against her daughter, cupping her child’s face, and kissed her back with passion. Bryanna was breathless when she broke the kiss.

“Umm, I want to see my little girl’s hooters.”

Bryanna flushed as her mom pushed her jean jacket off her shoulders. “Momma, you know I don’t have any tits.”

“You’re still young, duckling.”

“I’m fifteen, momma,” she protested as her mom pulled her red peasant’s blouse over her head. Her breasts were small, apple-sized, topped with puffy, pink nipples, and clearly didn’t need a bra to support them.

“They are beautiful,” Tibby insisted, giving her daughter’s breast a squeeze, then rolled her nipple between her thumb. Tibby then bent down and sucked her daughter’s nipple into her mouth.

“Oh, momma! That feels amazing! I’m nursing you now!”

The two women sank onto the bed; Tibby’s lips glued to her daughter’s breast. She pushed her daughter down onto her back, still sucking noisily at her tit, and ran her hands down Bryanna’s side, reaching for her jean skirt. Tibby pulled it up, exposing her daughter’s bushy twat. The teen gasped as her mother ran her fingers through her downy pubes and across her wet slit.

“Momma’s gonna make her duckling feel wonderful,” Tibby purred.

Tibby started kissing down her daughter’s body and Bryanna’s blue eyes sparkled with lust. “Oh momma!” she gasped as her mother spread her pussy lips open and dived in.

I began thrusting up into Violet’s mouth as I watched this incestuous display. My balls tightened; my eyes rooted at the sight of Tibby working her tongue deep into her daughter’s juicy snatch. I slammed into Violet’s mouth and shot three large blasts of cum into her. Violet pulled off my cock, swallowing and smiling happily.

“Thank you, Master,” she purred, stroking my cock.

“You did great, slut!”

I stood up, walked to the bed, and grasped the hem of Tibby’s black skirt, lifting it up. I spread her pussy lips open, gazing into her wet, pink depths as she made her daughter pant. Her cunt was just at the right level to let me stand at the foot of the bed and fuck her. I rubbed my cock on her vulva and then thrust it into her sheath.

“Oh yes!” Tibby gasped. “Fuck me, my Lord!”

“Are you on birth control?” I asked as I pumped my cock in her wet pussy.

“No, neither of us are. My husband had a vasectomy,” she answered. “You’re going to pull out, right?”

I laughed, “Nope. I’m going to cum in your, and your daughter’s, cunt. If you’re lucky, you both might carry my child.”

“That’d be wonderful, momma!” Bryanna gasped, pinching her puffy nipples.

“Yeah, I guess it would, duckling!”

I pounded her pussy hard. She wasn’t too tight, but she was warm and wet and knew how to move her hips. Bryanna had her hands tangled in her mother’s black curls, bucking her hips and rubbing her cunt all over her mother’s lips.

“Oh momma! This feels amazing! I love your mouth on my pussy! Um, eat me! Make me cream, momma!”

“Cum for me, duckling!” Tibby moaned. “Let’s cum together!”

“Yes!” Bryanna yelled. “Oh geez! Here it cums! Oh yes!”

Her back arched and her mother held on for dear life, never ceasing to drink her daughter’s fresh juices. I felt Tibby’s cunt spasming on my cock as she reached her climax, a velvety massage about my dick as her pussy writhed. I fucked her harder, feeling my own release approaching, then I spilled my fertile seed into her womb.

“Oh momma, I want to eat you now!”

“Absolutely, duckling! I’m all creamy now. You’ll just love it!” Tibby pulled away from me, white cum running out of her snatch. She unzipped her skirt and threw it to the floor before falling back on the bed and spreading her legs, and her pussy, wide open.

“Wow, momma!” Bryanna cooed. “Your pussy lips are huge!” She reached out, tugging on one. “Mine are small. You can barely see them. You’re bigger than me in every way.”

“Don’t pout, duckling. I’m all grown up!” Tibby slid her fingers threw her messy cunt. “Why don’t you give momma a good lickin’.”

Bryanna dove into her mother’s cunt, giving me a great view of the damp fur surrounding her tight slit. My cock was hard again and I buried into her teenage snatch. “Holy jeez!” Bryanna gasped. “He’s a little bigger than daddy!”

“Umm, I know,” Tibby cooed. “Doesn’t that cock just feel wonderful pumping in and out of you!”

“It does, momma!”

Bryanna’s cunt was a vice compared to her mom’s, and I enjoyed every second that I fucked her. Next to Mary’s pussy, teenage cunt was the best thing to fuck. I gripped her ass, spreading her firm cheeks and saw her rosebud asshole.

Well, maybe there was something better than teenage cunt.

“Owww!” Bryanna gasped as I shoved my cock into her bowels. My dick was well lubed, but her ass was virgin territory. “Momma, he’s fucking my butt!”

“Relax, duckling,” Tibby cooed. “Relax, your ass will take it!”

“Okay, momma,” Bryanna panted.

Her ass was tight ecstasy and I plunged in and out slowly, savoring the velvety feel of her. Tibby stroked her daughter’s face and guided the teen’s lips back to her juicy cunt. Bryanna’s head moved as she began eating her mother’s pussy and I could feel some of the tension leave her body; her ass wasn’t quite as tight anymore. I started thrusting faster, enjoying the feel of my balls slapping against her pussy.

“Um, duckling that feels wonderful! Eat momma’s dirty pussy! Lick momma clean! Oh yes!” Tibby’s large breasts heaved as her face squeezed in pleasure. She gasped once, squeezing the sheets and then smiled happily. “Thank you duckling!”

Tibby slid away from her daughter, then crawled down the bed, kneeling beside us. She bent down, giving Bryanna’s asscheek a big smooch, and watched my cock plunging in and out of her hole. Her hand reached under and I felt her fingers brush my pistoning cock, searching for her daughter’s cunt.

“Oh momma!” Bryanna gasped, squeezing her ass on my cock. “Ohh, play with my clitty!”

Bryanna’s hips started to move as her mother toyed with her clit. Tibby kept kissing and sucking at her daughter’s ass, leaving brown hickeys on white skin. The teen was cooing happily; her plaited braid coiled across her supple back. I reached out and grabbed it, yanking her head back. Her sapphire eyes shone with lust as she looked over her shoulder at me.

“Pound my ass, my Lord!” she moaned. “Oh, it feels so good! Umm, I’m so glad you took my anal cherry! I’m gonna cum, my Lord!” A low, throaty moan escaped her lips and her ass squeezed deliciously on my cock. “Oh yes! Do you feel my passion, my Lord? Do you feel my naughty, teenage ass squeezing on your hard cock?”

“Fuck, I do!” I moaned. My balls felt like they were about to explode, but I wanted to cum in her fertile cunt so I pulled out of her bowels and thrust my cock – dirty with her juicy ass – into her pussy. “Here it fucking cums!” I shouted, thrusting three times.

“Oh momma! He’s shooting in me! We’re gonna make a baby, momma!”

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

Jerrold Baxter – Washington D.C.

I knocked on the door of the apartment.

“Who is it?” a woman asked, her voice reedy, quavering.

“FBI,” I answered, holding up my badge. “I’m Agent Baxter, please open your door, ma’am.”

The old woman cracked the door open, the chain still in place, and peered at my badge. “What can I do for you?” she asked, a little nervous as she unhooked the chain.

Once inside, I whispered a word and I caught her as she fell asleep. I carried the old woman to her bedroom and set her on her bed. The Yashen spell would put her to sleep until around noon tomorrow. When she woke up, she wouldn’t remember a thing.

Her apartment gave the perfect vantage on the Willard Intercontinental’s entrance. I went back to the hallway and retrieved my gun case and started assembling my H&K PSG1 sniper rifle. The PSG1 was the perfect sniper’s weapon, very accurate. The German’s designed it for use in hostage situations after the Munich Games; it was very accurate, very deadly. I had a lot of experience with it; for seven years I had been a sniper with the FBI’s Hostage Rescue Team, our version of the SWAT.

Once my rifle was assembled, I walked carefully to the window, concentrated, and whispered, “Ashan.” The spell created an illusion in front of the window; from the outside, it would still look like the window was closed and the shades were drawn. The spell was one of the many powers I gained when I sold my soul to the Devil along with the other Patriots last week.

It was the only way to save America. To save the world. I loved my Country too much to watch it become enslaved by Mark Glassner and his whore.

I opened the drapes and the window, set up my tripod and rifle. In the morning the Tyrant, Mark Glassner, would step out of the hotel and I would put a bullet in his brain.

I grabbed my pack, pulled out the CB radio. Mark controlled the NSA, and cell phones were too easily traced by them. I keyed up the CB, “19Q321 traffic is just fine in D.C.” It was the code that I was in position. There would be no answer. Headquarters was monitoring the band, but they would never transmit; CB’s are too easy to direction find.

I sat and watched, scanning the hotel. On the roof I could see the counter-snipers, soldiers with their own sniper rifles, scanning the neighboring buildings for someone like me. I laughed; with the illusion in place they could never see me.

“KK254 the Brooklyn Bridge is traffic free,” a woman’s voice crackled over the CB.

I smiled; Sheila Robbins was in place to assassinate Mary. If all went well tomorrow the world would be free of the Tyrants.

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 41.

The Devil’s Pact Side-Story: The Alukah Part 2-The Motherhouse

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Side-Story: The Alukah

Part 2: The Motherhouse

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2014


Story Codes: Male/Female, Female/Female, Magic, Oral, Violence, Vampire

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 my_pen_name3000@hotmail.com, and you can contact my editor by email at dionysus40@prodigy.net.



Click here for Part 1.


Note: This takes place during Chapter 40, following Sam on her mission to Rennes-le-Château to study the Matmown in the Nun’s Motherhouse. Thanks to klimstit for inspiring me to write a vampire story.



Wednesday October 2nd, 2013 – Sam Soun

As our early morning flight on British Air took off from Heathrow Airport in London to Toulouse in Southern France, the entire plane was abuzz about the woman found badly assaulted in the restroom in the terminal. She was found around midnight local time, and since then I kept Candy and I where there were people around. Safety in the herd. I took no chances and made sure my bronze dagger – enchanted to harm spiritual beings – was easily accessible.

“They say she had bite marks on her thighs and breasts,” a passenger in the seat in front of us whispered to the woman sitting next to her. “Like something had drank her blood.”

“I heard the girl was naked and delirious when they found her,” the second passenger whispered back. “They say she was…” the passenger gave a quick look around to see if anyone was eavesdropping, “…masturbating. The poor thing was barely conscious from blood loss and still jilling herself.”

“It sounds like one of Lilith’s children, Sam,” Candy whispered to me. “One of the Akula.”

“Alukah,” I absently corrected, thumbing my earlobe. I had my carry-on bag sitting on my lap, dagger accessible. “We may be in some danger.”

The plane started taxiing to the runway and Candy’s eyes widened. “You think it’s after us.”

“Yes,” I answered, trying to sound calmer than I felt. “It must know about our mission.”

Anger flashed in Candy’s eyes. “Then why did they only send the two of us. Why not send a few of those sluts they call bodyguards to protect us. The way they dress, I’m sure the Alukah would be pestering the guard, and leave us alone.”

Why did Mark and Mary send us alone? To not attract attention, I guess. They certainly couldn’t come to France without causing a firestorm. I had grabbed a London Times while we were waiting for our connecting flight to France, and read that the UK was embroiled in a vote of no confidence against their Prime Minister for supporting Mark and lauding the President of France for condemning him.

“We will be safe,” I lied. “I know more about magic than anyone.”

“Not Lilith,” Candy pointed out. “It was foolish of them to send us without any guards. Fuck they’re idiots!”

I blinked, having never heard Candy say anything bad about Mark and Mary. It was the fear talking. I could see it in her eyes. I felt the same fear gripping my heart with a cold, slimy hand. Candy was right—they should have sent us some protection.

I worried the entire flight to Toulouse. Mary said to call their Chief of Police if we needed any help; she had put him under her control a few days ago when she flew out to France to steal the Mother Superior’s Gift. I would definitely feel better if there were some armed men around. The cops combined with an ointment that would protect against the Alukah’s mesmerizing gaze – if I figured it out right, and there wouldn’t be a way to test it until we were face-to-face with the monster – would go a long way in protecting us.

The ingredients shouldn’t be too hard to find for the ointment: St. John’s wort, a daisy, and some red berries combined with some sort of cream as the base. Then I just had to perform a simple charm and we should be protected from the most dangerous weapon the Alukah possessed. When we landed at Toulouse-Blagnac Airport, I found all the ingredients in the duty free shop – thank God for the all-natural health craze and florists – and I mixed them together, using a cold cream for the base.

I spritzed some of my enchanted perfume on me as we made our way to customs. It was similar to these incense sticks I made for Willow, and would put people into a suggestive frame of mind. One whiff and the Customs Official waved us through even though neither of us had passports. After customs we called the Captain of the Toulouse Police and he sent us two cops for an escort. The sun was just rising when they pulled up in one of those ridiculously tiny, European cop cars.

“I am Michel, this is Francois,” the serious young man said climbing out of the cop car. His eyes were instantly glued to Candy’s cleavage. I couldn’t blame him; she was showing a lot of it and it was very stunning.

Francois was a dark, brooding man, handsome, with a huge grin on his face. He sauntered up to Candy, asking, “Want touch my rooster?” Michel shook his head and muttered something in French. Francois ignored him, continuing, “American ladies love big rooster!”

“What?” Candy giggled.

“My rooster! Is very big!” He held his hands over a foot apart. “My rooster feel great your cat!”

“Come again?” I asked, baffled by what Francois was saying.

“My rooster!” Francois exclaimed enthusiastically, pointing to his crotch. “Ladies love big rooster! Like Black man.”

“You mean your cock? Your penis?” I asked, finally catching his drift.

“Yeah, yeah. My big rooster! It rises every morning. Very straight and crows very much!”

“And cat is our pussies?” Candy asked.

He nodded and I saw Candy give him a considering look then a promising smile. I blinked; Candy wasn’t usually into guys. I gave Francois a second glance and decided that he was handsome enough. Maybe later Candy and I could have some fun. Just because I could make my own cock didn’t mean I stopped craving a nice, hard dick.

“You were told to do whatever we say, right?” I asked them.

“Oui, oui,” Michel nodded.

“Good, rub this ointment under your eyes,” I ordered, holding out the cold cream container.

“Why?” Francois asked, staring askance at the ointment.

“Makes your rooster big,” Candy giggled. “If it’s as big as you say, maybe my hungry cat will eat it.”

Francois’s grin was priceless. He was so eager to rub it on his eyes that I suspected he was a virgin, and his over-the-top flirting was only a mask to hide it. Michel frowned and Candy shook her cleavage at him and he sighed, sniffed the minty concoction, and rubbed it under his eyes muttering something in French. It didn’t sound complimentary. The ointment had a…distinct odor to it. That strong, medicinal smell from the cold cream combined with a sulfurous fume from the charm.

Francois flirted badly with us the entire drive. His understanding of English wasn’t that great and trying to figure out what he meant was a real chore sometimes. The countryside of France was quite beautiful, the roads were lined with ancient hedgerows – walls of green that were older than any city in America – that streaked by as green blurs as Francois drove us at breakneck speed down the country highway. Soon a hill rose up ahead, a pile of rocks looming over the French countryside; Rennes-le-Château perched atop it, like a crown on a rocky giant’s head.

The road up the hill to the town was curvy, winding back and forth like a drunken serpent. Rennes-le-Château was ancient, made of stone buildings that seemed to groan with the centuries. The streets were far too narrow for more than one car to drive down at a time, even one as small as the cop’s vehicle. Francois didn’t care, he barreled down them and forced any oncoming motorist to back out of his way. I was feeling definitely carsick after the bouncy ride across the cobblestone streets, and thrilled when we reached the Church of Mary Magdalene and the ride was over. The Motherhouse loomed behind it, and we got out, walking around the ancient church.

The Motherhouse was as old as the rest of the town. Made of stones fitted together and weathered by centuries of rain, while green creepers crawled up the sides, trying to pry the stones apart. The door was aged wood and bound in iron. It was closed, but not locked.

I cast a warding spell while the cops watched with bemused expressions. Candy was a dear and started flirting with them to keep them out of my way. The Natsar spell – which should keep the Alukah out, as well as any other children of Lilith, minor demons, homunculi, and spirits that might be after us – had to be precisely cast at all four corners of the building.

“Francois, you stay out and watch the door,” I told him. “Don’t invite anyone in.”

“Of course, mademoiselle,” he answered with a bow. “No fear. I protect you with big rooster!”

Candy laughed and patted his groin. “I bet you will.”

Our defenses set, I eagerly headed for the basement followed by Michel and Candy. The cop had his flashlight out, shining ahead, as I raced down the tight, narrow staircase. The basement – reeking of centuries of filth – was full of old cardboard boxes that were stained black with mildew. At the far end was a door made of iron and covered with what appeared to be Paleo-Hebrew characters.

Excitedly I read. They were commands forbidding elohim from entering. Elohim could mean many things, all connected to the spiritual realm. Literally translated it meant ‘gods’ and was often applied to the God of the Old Testament, but could also refer to angels, spirits of the dead, and the pagan gods worshiped by the Israelite enemies.

I touched the metal, feeling the hammer strokes that had beated the metal flat, then traced through the angular script. They must have stamped the characters. The metal was clearly iron and I bet that it was cold iron; probably even meteoric iron. The most powerful metal in dealing with the supernatural has always been iron not worked by heat, and the most readily available source of iron in the ancient world fell from the skies—meteors.

Candy and the French cop watched in curiosity. “Candy, grab the survey equipment from the car.” After the two cops picked us up, we purchased some supplies before we left Toulouse. “Then take scrapings of the walls. I will need a metallurgical analysis.”

“Sure, Sam,” Candy smiled.

I grabbed the digital camera and began to meticulously document the room. Inside there were more spells written on the walls and I felt a giddy feeling bubble up inside me. If I wasn’t their Vizier, I could make a name for myself in the archeological world for this discovery. A shame I could never share it with my peers.

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

Luka – Rennes-le-Château, France

I watched the French cop as he stood bored in front of the Motherhouse from my perch in the ancient oak tree. My target was inside there—Samnag Soun. I could smell her scent thick in the air. I had been watching all day, waiting, pondering.

My fangs itched to sink into Sam’s olive throat and drink my fill of her life, but first I had to deal with the Natsar ward and then her guards. I did not have my sister Cora’s brute strength. I could smell the ointment from here that protected all of them from my gaze, and I could be overpowered by the two cops if I wasn’t careful. As the day wore on the cop guarding the front door grew more and more bored. The sun would be setting soon, and his attention would only worsen with time.

Finally, the sun slipped beneath the horizon and the sky darkened to a deep purple-black. Thunder rumbled in the distance; a storm approached. I slipped out of the tree and boldly walked down the path to him. I shaped my hair into a form-fitting bodysuit. It hugged every lush curve of my body and I felt the French cop’s gaze fall on me and the lust burning in his eyes.

I didn’t need my gaze to deal with a horny man.

He said something in French. It was musical, poetry given sound, and utterly meaningless to me. I just smiled as sultry as possible and exaggerated the roll of my hips even more. He kept speaking in French as I stepped up in front of him just on the other side of the Natsar’s boundary and boldly looked him up and down.

“I love cops,” I purred. Thunder rumbled behind me, the wind picking up as dark storm clouds swept over the hill.

Candy Garnett

I was bored.

Sam was having fun taking her measurements and notes and all that academic shit. She was talking about the days and days it would take to her to record it all and analysis it. She was positively giddy.

I could only fidget and watch her work, trying to pay attention so I could help her out, but she seemed to be lost in her world of discovery. On top of the boredom, there was the dull fear aching my heart. An Alukah may be hunting us; sure we were safe inside the Natsar, but I couldn’t shake the unease writhing like an eel in my stomach. Anger burned in me that Mark and Mary would send us out here by ourselves. Sam was the most important person in maintaining their power and they didn’t give her half the respect she deserved. Sam should be running things, in my opinion, not kowtowing to those two idiots that were forever blundering into one disaster after another.

Sam should make her own pact with Lucifer.

I was scared to bring it up to her – it was such a seditious idea – but she could be so much more if she just had a little bit more ambition to go with her intelligence. With my help Sam would one day show the world just how smart and powerful she really is.

In the meantime, I was bored.

Michel was as bored as I was, leaning against a moldy cardboard box. He was cute, with dark eyes and hair. And incredibly shy. I’ve always preferred the ladies, but there have been times when a guy was cute enough to attract my interest. I loved the shy ones. They always let me be the aggressive one—the one in charge.

I glanced at Sam; she was lost in her work and I felt an itch growing between my thighs. Maybe Michel could help me out.

“It must be so hard to be a cop,” I cooed, sidling up to Michel. I thrust out my chest, making sure he had a nice view down my cleavage. I lightly touched his wrist and he flushed, looking uncomfortable. “All those long hours. I bet your girlfriend just hates it.”

He shifted. “No girl,” he muttered.

“Really? With those dark eyes? I thought you would have to hold the ladies at bay with a stick! I love a guy with dark, brooding eyes.” I leaned in, fluttering my eyes at him, sliding my hand up his arm and giving his bicep a squeeze. “And so strong! What woman wouldn’t love to have you?”

“I…um…” he muttered something in French. “I should be guard.”

“Francois is watching the entrance,” I told him, stroking his arm. “Besides, you can watch and talk at the same time.” This time I let my breast press against his arm.

“This isn’t…um…” he paused, searching for the right word, “…appropriate. I am working.”

“And what are we doing that is so inappropriate?” I grinned, pressing my body against his side, my hand rubbing his chest. I leaned in and whispered in his ear, “We’re just talking, Michel.”

He went rigid, and tried to jerk away. I grabbed his arm, pulling him back.

“Don’t be so stiff. I’m not going to bite.” I paused, smiling coquettishly. “Much.”

Sweat beaded on his forehead and he glanced at Sam. “What about your boss? You are helping, no?”

“She won’t mind.” His chin was rough with stubble as I kissed his cheek. I moved closer and closer to his lips. He was an okay kisser, his lips dry. He froze at first, then I felt him relax, kissing me back, his hands gently resting on my hips. I broke the kiss. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” he asked, panting; a foolish grin on his face.

“I thought I heard something upstairs. In one of the bedrooms. We should check it out.”

He swallowed, “Yeah.”

He followed along after me like a little puppy. I felt his cute, dark eyes on my ass as I swayed it in front of him. I glanced back at him, smiled invitingly, and twirled a strand of cotton-candy blue hair around my finger, then I dashed up the narrow stairs, giggling.

He chased me.

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

Luka

“American lady?” the French cop asked as I stood before him, his eyes filled with lust as he took in my lush body covered by a form-fitting bodysuit I made with my hair.

I nodded. “Your accent is so sexy.”

“You want see my rooster. Is very big!” He held out his hands a good two feet apart. “Most big rooster you see!”

I was utterly confused about what he was talking about until he rubbed at his crotch. I could see the hard bulge forming there. “Umm, I like big cocks,” I purred. “Why don’t we slip inside and you can show it to me. I’ll introduce it to my hungry pussy.”

He suddenly got flustered, his flirtatious bravado evaporating. He’s never had a woman respond like that, I realized. I could sense the inexperience that his outrageous confidence was trying to mask.

“Come on, big boy,” I continued to purr, running my hands down my body. “Invite me in and you can show me just how big it is.”

He threw a nervous look over his shoulder, swallowing. “I am on…eh…job.”

“So?” I asked, my hands rubbing my crotch and sending a delicious thrill through my damp pussy. “No-one will know if we fool around for a little while. You won’t be disappointed when your rooster meets my pussy.”

He swallowed, his resolve wavering.

“I love to pet and stroke roosters,” I purred. “With my hands…and with other parts of my body.”

Lust won out over duty. “Yes! Come in.”

The barrier was gone; I had my invitation, and I pounced. My lips found his, kissing him, as I pushed him back inside the door. I pressed him up against the wall, our lips hungrily tasting each other, while I rubbed his cock, feeling his cock swell beneath his pants. I kissed down to his throat, feeling his heart’s blood pumping through his veins, and bit hard.

He struggled as my fangs pierced his carotid artery and his life pumped hot into my lips. It was a vital flood, brimming with energy. I couldn’t swallow fast enough and the blood poured down my chin and neck, rolling down my body to puddle stickily on the floor. It was wonderful, rich and salty, flowing with primal energy. Never had I felt so alive, so full of power. His blood charged me, a battery filled to capacity—I never should have denied myself with the girl in the bathroom.

I let his dead weight fall to the floor and bent down and drew his handgun.

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

Candy Garnett

Michel chased me giggling into a bedroom.

It was barely more than a closet. A cell, really, than a proper bedroom. A small bed with a hard-looking mattress and a battered dresser. The window was narrow and the cold, night air flowed in through a gap between the frame and the wall where the ancient mortar had eroded away. These poor nuns had to live like this? No wonder they had caused so many problems; I’d be cranky too.

I kissed Michel, thrusting my tongue into his lips, then pushed him down onto the bed. “Strip,” I ordered him.

He began to fumble with his buttons and froze as I pulled my top off, freeing my round breasts. I smiled and shook my tits at him. He muttered in French and started unbuttoning faster. His shirt and white undershirt came off exposing a muscular chest covered with thick, coarse black hair. I grimaced; I hated a hairy guy, but I was too horny to stop now. His pants and his striped boxers came off; he had an average-sized cock, uncircumcised, the red tip peaking out of its hood like a curious snake peaking out of its burrow.

I lifted up my skirt, exposing my shaved pussy to his gaze. “Eat me, stud!”

He knelt before me, his hands reaching around to grab my ass, and pulled me to his lips. His whiskers were rough on my thighs as he buried his mouth in my pussy. His tongue was stiff as it slid through my labia, but he knew just where to lick and I cooed in pleasure.

“You taste sweet,” Michel moaned.

“That’s why they call me Candy,” I giggled. I grabbed his hair and shoved his mouth back into my cunt. “Don’t stop licking until I explode on your face!”

I shuddered in pleasure as his lips sucked on my clit, sending lightning pleasure flashing through my body. Still holding his hair, I started grinding my pussy on his face. Outside, lightning flashed and thunder rumbled, while inside my cunt rippled with passion.

The storm’s having an orgasm, I thought, just like me.

“Lick me!” I groaned as the small orgasm peeled through me. I wanted more, and his tongue was building me up to a crescendo of pleasure. “Umm, I’m gonna flood your face. You’re going to drown in my sweet syrup!”

That sweet feeling was jolting through my body as my large orgasm grew closer and closer. I was so near that wonderful peak. His tongue was probing my cunt, nose rubbing against my clit when my orgasm crashed into me like a hurricane slamming into the shore, whipping pleasure throughout my body. I moaned, my back arching, as that glorious climax surged like a storm-driven wave through me. I rode high on the rapture, staring out the tiny window, watching the lightning flashing orgasmically.

A woman’s face was in the window, fiery-red hair lit up by the lightning, something dark staining her lips.

“Holy shit!” I gasped, leaping away, my heart thundering in fear. “There!” I tried to say more, but my tongue was tied with fear and all I could do was point at the window.

“What?” Michel asked, wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

“Face!” I gasped out, still rapidly pointing.

Michel stood up and opened the window, sticking his head out. There was another flash of lightning and then the rain, driven by a gusting wind, came down in a hammering sheet against the side of the building. Michel peered around. “We are on the second floor. There is no trees or ledge for person to stand.”

“There’s nothing out there?” I asked, finally gathering my thoughts as my fear receded. Had it just been my imagination? A mere manifestation of the dull fear of the Akula that had plagued me all day?

“No,” he answered, walking back to me with his hard cock pointing at me. “I think it is your turn to…” His voice trailed off and he shouted, “Merde!” then dived for his clothes.

I spun around and there was the woman I saw in the window. She was naked, the dark-red stains that covered her face and breasts were unmistakable—blood. The room filled with a coppery, nauseating scent as the woman aimed her gun at Michel. I jumped; the gun barked. Michel yelled in pain, blood blossoming on his chest as he struggled to pull his gun out of the tangle of his clothes. Like a marionette whose strings had been cut, he fell to the floor.

Before I could even react, the woman pointed the gun at me and fired. I jumped as everything went blue around me; the bronze protective amulet I wore about my neck worked, deflecting the bullet.

“That is a neat trick,” the woman purred, walking towards me.

I backed away, fear hammering in my chest. There was nowhere I could go. She blocked the only exit. The wind gusted into the room, driving wet rain into my back – stinging cold – and causing the woman’s fiery-red hair to swirl around her like flames.

The window was open.

I didn’t think—I just turned and jumped.

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

Sam Soun

I was lost in my notes when I heard the loud pops.

I looked up. “What was that, Candy?” I asked. “It sounded like gunfire.”

I frowned; Candy and Michel were gone. The girl had been making calf-eyes at him all day instead of helping me. Fear nibbled at my stomach, so I reached into my bag and pulled out the bronze, enchanted knife, and walked cautiously out of the Matmown.

“Candy?” I called, straining to hear. The grip of my knife felt slippery in my sweaty hands.

No-one answered; my heart thudded in my chest.

“Francois? Michel?”

I reached the stairs, walking slowly up the stone runners pitted with age, trying to hear any noise over the howl of the storm and the crash of lightning—and the hammering of my heart. I reached the first floor and glanced at the entrance. My breath caught—there was Francois lying slumped to the floor, his throat torn out, dark blood pooling around his body.

The Alukah was here. A sudden anger flashed through me, momentarily driving out the fear. The idiot must have invited her in!

I felt something tickle the back of my neck like someone was watching me. I whirled around to see a form flying at me. I panicked, thrusting the knife blindly before me. I saw a woman’s face – eyes wild, mouth open and full of sharp teeth – a moment before she slammed into me. We fell to the floor in a tangled heap; I barely felt the stones bruise my hip. The air sizzled and the Alukah’s scream was inhuman. I pushed her off of me and my dagger was ripped out of my sweaty grip as I scrambled away. The monster rose up, naked, drenched in blood. Please, please don’t be Candy’s blood! Lodged in her shoulder, surrounded by blackening flesh, was the copper blade.

“Ohh, you will pay for that, Samnag Soun,” the Alukah hissed. “I will slowly drain every drop of blood while you beg for mercy!” She grasped the hilt and wrenched the knife free, dropping it to the ground and stalking towards me.

I was going to die. I thrust my wrist forward and unleashed the wind stored in my bracelet. It slammed into the Alukah, hurling her back like a rag-doll caught in the winds of the hurricane and slamming her heavily into a stone wall. I didn’t wait to see what happened to her, I just turned and ran down the hallway away from the monster.

Behind me I could hear vicious snarling. I reached a wooden door, slamming into it. I grasped at the old hinge and forced it open, darting through it into a kitchen. There were no other doors leading out. Shit! I looked around wildly, grabbing a thick knife from a wooden block, and ducked behind a heavy, wood table.

“I can smell you,” the Alukah purred as she burst into the kitchen. “Your coppery blood pumping in your veins, the salt of your sweat beading on your skin, the honey between your legs weeping from your cunt.” She was in the kitchen, I could see her feet as she walked by the table. “You could die screaming in pleasure. Would you like that?”

Please don’t find me! I tried to hold my breath; I needed to be quieter than a mouse as I watched the feet stalk around the kitchen. A desperate plan flashed through my mind. She was heading to the far side of the kitchen. I would have to make a run for it.

“Where are you hiding, my little mouse,” purred the Alukah. “You smell so wonderful!”

She walked past the table. I tensed, ready to spring out and make my desperate bid for escape.

The table was thrown aside and the Alukah stared down at me with hungry eyes. I lunged with the butcher knife, stabbing her right in the heart. She grabbed my arm with one hand and plucked the knife out of her breast with the other, tossing it contemptuously to the floor. It was stainless steel, not enchanted or made of cold iron, and was completely ineffective against spiritual flesh.

I was dead.

She licked my wrist and I struggled to break her grip. She sank her fangs into my flesh.

Pleasure poured into me like a drug, trembling wonderfully through my body. Why was I resisting her? She brought me this amazing feeling. I shuddered as she drank the dark blood that oozed out of my flesh. I stopped struggling. Why would I even want to fight the rapture her fangs brought me?

“Imagine how it will feel when I drink from your thigh. From the femoral artery that runs right past your sopping pussy, draining you dry of every last drop of blood.” She inhaled deeply. “Your arousal smells so intoxicating!”

She pushed me to the floor and I spread my thighs for her. I wanted her to taste me, to drink my blood. I wanted to feel that pleasure even if it killed me! My pussy ached with desire. Her tongue licked through my cunt and I arched my back. Her tongue was hot, her lips sucking at my clit. She sent her tongue probing every fold of my flower, and my orgasm exploded through me.

She shifted, straddling my hips and lowering her shaved pussy to my lips. I buried my face into her cunt, licking, sucking. She tasted wonderful, tart and tangy, her honey thick as it filled my hungry lips. Her mouth was kissing at my inner thigh—above my femoral artery.

“Beg,” she hissed. “Beg and I’ll send you to the afterlife on a river of pleasure.”

“Yes, please!” I cried out, lost to ecstasy. “I need to feel that pleasure! Drink my life!”

Her mouth opened, her teeth were sharp on my thigh. I squirmed, I couldn’t wait to feel this pleasure. I moaned as the sharp, agonizing rapture of her teeth began to penetrate my skin, slowly driving towards the artery. I groaned, squeezing my nipples. I was going to die experiencing the greatest pleasure of my life! My body burned to feel it, I didn’t care what happened to me. Nothing mattered, not even my beautiful Candy.

I saw her face floating above us; even twisted in pain and anger she was so beautiful, framed by her wet, half-blue and half-pink hair. I would miss her. A small regret filled me. I never told her how much I loved her. “Goodbye, Candy,” I whispered.

The Alukah’s scream was unearthly pain, back arching up and her teeth releasing my flesh mere centimeters from reaching my artery. She flopped off me, smoke rising from her back, as she sprawled and spasmed on the stone floor of the kitchen in pain, writhing like a spider missing a few legs. Standing above her was a limping Candy, completely drenched, her right leg twisted, broken.

“I got the bitch,” she groaned in pain, and collapsed on the floor.

The Alukah was shriveling black, like a corpse drying out in the desert, mummifying. Her body gave one last spasm, then her screams cut off into a sibilant whisper. A bronze dagger gleamed in her back – the one I stabbed the monster with and she dropped in the hallway, I realized – half the blade sunk into the foul corpse’s back.

Candy crawled to me and kissed me on the lips. Her tears were warm and salty as they fell on my face.

“You saved me, Candy,” I whispered back and kissed her again, holding her tight. I never wanted to let her go.

The end.

The Devil’s Pact Side-Story: The Alukah Part 1-The Hunt

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Side-Story: The Alukah

Part 1: The Hunt

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2014


Story Codes: Female/Female, Hermaphrodite/Female, Mind Control, Magic, Incest, Oral, Vampirism

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 my_pen_name3000@hotmail.com, and you can contact my editor by email at dionysus40@prodigy.net.



Note: This takes place during Chapter 40, following Sam on her mission to Rennes-le-Château to study the Matmown in the Nun’s Motherhouse. Thanks to klimstit for inspiring me to write a vampire story.



Monday, September 30th, 2013 – Lilith – The Abyss

I spied on him from the shadows as he spoke to that slut wife of his, projecting my spirit from my Vessel resting safely in Seattle. I could not let Mark and Mary get their hands on a Matmown. They had grown too powerful today when they defeated Brandon; I needed the edge I gained by spying on them if I am going to have any chance of surviving long enough to realize my plans.

Samnag Soun needed to be stopped before she could discover the secrets of the Matmown.

I flashed back to Seattle, back to my body, and opened my eyes in my office – a richly appointed space full of expensive carpets, dark-wood furniture engraved with intricate designs, expensive statuettes and figurines carved of delicate crystals and veined marbles, incense sticks and scented candles that filled the air with sweet delights – and let the beauty of my surroundings relax me. My office almost matched the majesty of ancient Babylon. A train horn blared; the warehouse rumbled, spoiling my enjoyment. I hated this place; it was old, dusty, dilapidated—hardly a fit place for a Goddess, but it was the only building we had in Seattle that could house my children and followers unnoticed.

I just had to keep reminding myself it is only temporary. Soon, the city of Seattle would fall to my power; soon Tir’s plague would be ready and the Earth would be brought to its knees. I only needed to keep Mark at bay for a few more months. By the new year, Seattle, and then the world, would be wiped clean of the vermin—men. Only women would survive, transforming the world into a paradise.

Chantelle and Lana sat in chairs opposite my desk, patiently waiting. They were my two High Priestesses; the first to join my cause. The lesbians – opposites in every way; one was blonde and busty, the other dark-haired and slim – were holding hands, I saw with amusement. Love. What a weak, useless emotion, enslaving those it inflicted. I controlled my daughters with love just like I controlled these two fools.

In unison the pair slipped to the floor and paid me their homage.

“What did you see, my Goddess?” blonde Lana asked, her Slavic face worshipfully staring up at me.

The blonde was the more outgoing, the bolder of the duo—the more outspoken. Modern humans did not know how to show proper respect, particularly these Americans. This country bred insolence and arrogance into their children, and these character defects had rubbed off on an immigrant like Lana.

“Send for my daughter, Luka,” I commanded, ignoring her lapse; allowances had to be made…for now. “I have someone for her to kill.”

“At once, my Goddess,” Lana replied, smoothly rising and turning to leave.

I leaned back in my chair. The plush leather was so comfortable as it cushioned my body in heavenly softness. There was something to be said for the comforts of this age, even if its inhabitants left something to be desired.

A smile crossed my lips; Luka would be perfect for this task. Hopefully, she wouldn’t fail me like Di and Emi had. Irritation flashed like lightning; who knows when I would mother another Dimme, let alone twins.

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

Luka – Seattle, WA

“Luka, follow me,” Lana said peremptorily as I snuggled up to Mona, my birth mother.

Mom’s blood was salty on my lips as I nursed gently from the small punctures my teeth left on her breasts. Mom shook in ecstasy from my bite, her hands stroking my fiery-red hair as she fed me. Her blood was delicious, salty, life. I could feel that Mom was close to cumming, her moans soft, passionate, and I resented the intrusion.

“Why,” I demanded, regretfully pulling my lips from Mom’s delicious flesh. I could only feed off her once a week; more often would be too dangerous for her. As an Alukah I needed blood to survive, and Mom offered herself; such a loving, intimate gift.

“Our Goddess wants you,” Lana answered, furrowing her eyes.

I perked up. My True Mother needed me. Joy blossomed inside me; all the children of Lilith, myself included, had been so jealous of Di and Emi when they had been chosen for their special mission, and I was secretly delighted to hear that they had died. The more of my siblings that perished, the less competition there was for Mother’s love.

I followed the curvy blonde to Mother’s office. I could see the blood pumping beneath Lana’s skin. Warm, delicious blood, flowing through a beautiful spiderweb of arteries, capillaries, and veins. She positively glowed with life, pooling in her womb where her daughter grew. I wondered what Lana’s blood tasted like; I only ever got to taste my birth mother’s blood. Lana smelled different, spicier than Mom, and I bet her blood would have a zesty flavor.

I could take just a little nip; her neck was so inviting. I sighed. No, I couldn’t touch her. As much as I hated Lana – she thought she was so much better than me – she had mother’s favor. She was untouchable…for now.

I knelt when I entered my True Mother’s glorious presence, gazing up at her with awe and love. Mother was perfect, and her beauty always made me feel lacking; her flesh was flawless, and her blood pumped divinely through perfectly shaped blood vessels that painted a glorious picture of life and power beneath her skin. One day I hoped that she would let me taste her divine blood.

If I served her faithfully, I knew she would.

“You humble daughter is here to serve, Mother,” I said, and shuddered as she smiled at me.

Mother waved her hand and the image of a woman appeared. She was young, early twenties, with olive skin and a round face. Her eyes were dark, almond-shaped, revealing a Far East Asian origin. She had a serious look, almost a scholarly air about her. And it wasn’t just her appearance Mother conjured—I could smell her. The warm, salty flavor of her blood; the sour of her sweat; the spicy tang of her sex—all of it combined to give the woman a unique odor.

I looked questioningly at Mother.

“Samnag Soun,” Mother answered. “Vizier to him.” I knew from the heat in her voice just who ‘him’ referred to. The despicable Mark Glassner. “She is traveling to southern France, to a small town called Rennes-le-Château. Kill her.”

I licked my lips. “I am the instrument of your will, Mother.”

She bent down and kissed me on the lips; pleasure exploded in my pussy. I gasped and shuddered as the most intense, amazing orgasm burst through my body, leaving me nothing more than a twitching ball of sensation whipped by the winds of lust scouring my soul. When I regained my senses, I was lying on the floor and I picked myself up. Mother was reading over some papers; Lana and Chantelle – obviously caught up in Mother’s Lust – passionately writhed in an embrace on the carpets. Sensing I was dismissed, I withdrew quietly.

My birth mother Mona waited outside the office, and hugged me and wished me success and safety in my task. Together we walked up to the roof of the warehouse. “I love you, Luka,” she said, throwing her arms about my neck and kissing me on the lips.

“I love you too, Mom,” I told her as my red hair fanned out, forming into the wings that would carry me through the night sky.

Carrying me to my prey.

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

Tuesday October 1st, 2013 – Sam Soun – New York City

“Now boarding British Air Flight 482 for London’s Heathrow Airport.”

That announcement sounded important, the rational, thinking part of my mind told me, but I was too tired to care. I didn’t sleep at all over the weekend – how could I when my very life rested on Mark and Mary overcoming Brandon’s seemingly insurmountable forces – and despite trying to sleep on the flight from Seattle to New York’s LaGuardia Airport, I couldn’t. Mary’s mysterious command plagued me.

We need you to do something that is very important, Mary had said to me last night. Go to the Motherhouse in Rennes-le-Château. In the basement you will find a room. Study it carefully. I need you to reconstruct it perfectly.

I was so curious. What was this mysterious room? Could it be a Matmown? The Magicks of the Witch of Endor spoke of something called ‘Hidden Rooms’—places that spiritual beings could not see into. Angels, Demons, Spirits. None of them could so much as enter one of these rooms, but the Book didn’t explain how to make one.

It seemed that while I waited for our flight to Toulouse, France – with a layover in London – I had fallen asleep on the uncomfortable, plastic chairs in the airport’s terminal. Someone was shaking my shoulder. Candy, my half-asleep mind realized; my lovely and vivacious toy.

“What,” I muttered in irritation.

“Our flight is boarding,” Candy urged. “C’mon, Sam.”

I groaned, “Fine.” I let Candy drag me to my feet.

Candy maneuvered me as I shuffled through the boarding procedures. Since we were in First Class, we got to board with the first group. The First Class tickets were expensive, but I wasn’t paying for the tickets, and Mark and Mary sure could afford to. They gave me a credit card months ago to use for any expenses I needed. The First Class seats were a little wider, a little roomier, a little easier to sleep on—a definitely needed expense.

The moment I buckled in I was dead to the world. I don’t even remember taking off. I woke up with my face pressed against the bulkhead, drool sticky on my cheek, and a blanket – one of those light, airline ones that are too thin to really do much of anything – bunched up on my right side. Candy smiled at me, and reached out to stroke my left thigh. My skirt had ridden up while I slept, almost exposing my naked pussy, and Candy’s fingers dipped in and took advantage of that. I stirred, enjoying her touch, as I looked at her. A grin was plastered on her cute face, framed by hair that was half-dyed cotton-candy blue and bubblegum pink. She was my toy, given to me by Mark in exchange for being their vizier. She was smart, feisty, funny; my right-hand woman.

“Good morning,” Candy purred. “Or, I should say good afternoon. Or evening? I’m not sure anymore. I think we have another six hours to go.”

My bladder felt full and my stomach rumbled. The lavatory took care of one and I bought a meal from the stewardess to take care of the other. It was an okay chicken salad with an oily dressing. Not enough vinegar, I thought, but I was famished and wolfed it down.

Candy giggled and bent over and licked me. “You had something on your chin.”

“Do I still have anything?” I asked, a smile playing on my lips.

Candy bent over and kissed me on the lips, slipping her tongue inside my mouth. “Nope, all clean.”

I was starting to feel a familiar itch in my crotch and one look at Candy’s face told me she felt the same. I grabbed the blanket from the floor and placed it over both of our laps. The grin on Candy’s face broadened, and her hand slip down to find my thigh and slid up my leg to my wet pussy. I shuddered in delight when her skillful fingers played with my damp nethers.

I returned the favor, sliding my hand up Candy’s miniskirt and found her sopping pussy. I smeared my fingers through her juices and brought them up to my lips, sucking each finger one by one. “Umm, I love to eat some sweet Candy,” I laughed.

“Why don’t you try some more?”

I slid my hands back between her thighs, stroking her vulva as Candy probed my pussy with two fingers, sliding them in and out achingly slow. I shuddered in pleasure on my toy’s digits, as I shoved three fingers up Candy’s twat; she raised up on her seat at the sudden intrusion, before relaxing and enjoying my finger-fuck.

Across the aisle, a sleeping man stirred and stretched suddenly. Candy and I kept fingering each other, trying to stay discreet. I bit my lip to stifle a moan as Candy started grinding the heel of her hand on my clit. Well, two could play at that, so I pulled my fingers out of her cunt and began pinching her button. She tossed her head back in pleasure, her pink-and-blue hair swaying wildly about her head.

Candy squeezed her eyes shut, her face turning red as she struggled not to cry out as her orgasm rippled through her. I bit my lip, silencing a moan as she writhed and sighed. Her orgasm was so powerful her stomach muscles contracted and she bent over, a low groan escaping her lips and sweat breaking out across her forehead.

“Are you okay, miss?” the man across the aisle asked in a British accent. “You look a little knackered.”

“I’m fine,” Candy panted.

“No you’re not,” I told her. “C’mon, let’s get you into the lavatory before you throw up.”

Candy gave me a confused look, but she was my slave and obeyed me, standing up. The man had a puzzled expression on his face. “She gets this way all the time,” I told him. “We might be in there for a little while. I know just what to do to make her feel better.”

Candy caught on and nodded, “She gives me what I need.”

“Yep, she needs her protein injection,” I stated. “She’s too chicken to stick the needle in herself, so she likes me to thrust it in her. You see, it has to be plunged deeply into her flesh for the injection to work.”

Candy almost giggled, clapping her hand over her mouth and vigorously nodding her head. “She makes the needle plunging into me feel so nice!”

We reached the two first class lavatories and entered the left one, locking it behind us. It was a typical airplane lavatory: stainless steel toilet, sink, and mirror; cramped for one person, let alone two. We made it work.

Candy reached down and lifted my skirt, exposing my neatly trimmed, black bush, and started playing with my clit. “You know just what I need, Sam,” Candy purred.

I concentrated on my clit, and it began to lengthen, widening, transforming into eight inches of hard iron—my very own cock. I learned how to do this from the Book – the Magicks of the Witch of Endor – and Candy was the first woman I ever fucked with it. We met at the Clam Diver, a lesbian club in Tacoma, and I fucked her with it on a love seat at the edge of the dance floor. Candy had been so impressed by the magic, that she offered to be my slave if I would teach it to her.

She loved every minute of being my slave and apprentice.

Once my clit had grown to its full length I purred, “Time for your injection!”

Giggling, Candy stroked me to full hardness. Her hand felt wonderful on my girl-cock, then she sat on the edge of the sink, parting her legs so I had access to her dripping cunt. “I’m ready to be pricked!”

We embraced and kissed as her hands eagerly guided me into her. I moaned; it felt wonderful to be inside my Sweet Candy again. My hips pumped fast; we couldn’t spend too much time in here before a stewardess got nosy. We shared a sloppy kiss with lots of tongue, moaning into each other’s mouths, as I fucked her hard. Her cunt was tight silk on my cock; I felt that urgent need to cum building in my ovaries, spurring me to fuck Candy faster.

“I love your cunt,” I hissed in Candy’s ear. “You’re a dirty, cock-loving whore, aren’t you?”

“Yes!” Candy panted. “A dirty, girl-cock loving whore! I love it when you fuck my mouth, fuck my cunt, and fuck my filthy ass! I love the taste of your cum. All thick and salty as it pumps in my mouth!”

I felt her fingers squeeze my ass, then reach lower, sliding between my legs. I thrust hard into her as her fingers invaded my cunt. Fuck, she was stroking the passion in my girl-parts and my boy-parts.

“You dirty whore!” I purred. “Finger me! I want to cum with both my pussy and my cock!”

Candy threw her head back, exposing her pale throat, and I couldn’t resist sucking hard at it. I loved leaving hickeys on her pale flesh. They were my marks of ownership—this slut was all mine! Just a few more thrusts and I would be flooding her cunt with my cum. I pounded on her harder and harder, then my ovaries were boiling over and my cock exploded. The pleasure was intense: the focused blast of a male orgasm and the wonderful waves of pleasure of a female orgasm all mixed together in a wonderful maelstrom of rapture.

“Yes, yes!” Candy groaned as she felt my cum jet into her cunt and my pussy juices flooded her hand. I pulled her face down and silenced her with a kiss, her cunt spasming on my cock as she came hard.

“Umm, that was delicious,” I purred, shrinking my clit. “Clean yourself up.”

Candy reached down and scooped up a big gob of my cum and sucked it into her lips. “That’s the best part!”

I chuckled as I slipped out. The British man asked how she was doing and I was about to tell him that she needed a few more minutes, when someone in the back of the plane began screaming. Wondering what could be going on, I made sure my gale bracelet was on my wrist as I started walking to the back of the plane. The bracelet, made of brass, could conjure a strong wind and throw an attacker away from me; one of many charmed objects I had come up with.

I debated grabbing one of my daggers. I had a pair of copper daggers in my carry-on bag stowed in the overhead compartment. They were useful against a supernatural opponent; carved with symbols that would allow the blades to harm spiritual flesh. I decided against grabbing the daggers; unless I saw an actual threat, it would only cause more problems for me to pull them out.

I was about to head into coach when a stewardess stopped me. “What’s going on?” I asked.

“A passenger thought she saw a woman out on the wing,” the stewardess explained.

“What, like that Twilight Zone episode?” One of my favorite episodes. “With the gremlin on the wing?”

The stewardess gave me a momentarily confused look, then, ignoring my comment, said, “It happens sometimes. When you mix sleeping pills, alcohol, and altitude it can cause all sorts of unanticipated reactions. If you could please take your seat, miss.”

I walked back to my seat and tried to peer out the window, straining to see the aircraft’s wing, but I was too far forward. “What are you doing, Sam?” Candy asked as she returned from the lavatory.

“Get my laptop,” I told her.

When we rushed out of the house on Saturday morning, one step ahead of Brandon’s forces, I had grabbed a bag I had prepared. I got the idea from some spy movie—a go bag. It contained anything I would need if I had to leave in a hurry: my copper daggers, a laptop which contained copies of my translations of the Magicks of the Witch of Endor, my enchanted perfume, the bracelet I wore around my wrist, and a few other handy items. Candy grabbed my laptop out of the overhead bin and I booted it up. There was a section in the book that described Lilith’s monstrous children.

The Children of Lilith could manifest in a myriad of different ways, and there were a few that could fly. For instance: a Zauba’a could take the form of whirlwind, the Pazuzu and the Lamassu had bird wings, the Th’uban was something that resembled a dragon, and the Alukah could fly using her hair. I read each entry carefully—the one about the Alukah jumped out. An Alukah looked perfectly human and was a type of vampire. Its bite imparted a narcotic effect on the victim, making them docile as the monster fed. Its hair could be shaped into wings or in other, useful ways. The gaze of an Alukah was hypnotic, making its victims docile or causing people to ignore its presence. The drunk were supposedly immune to this power.

My blood chilled as I shut down my laptop.

I tried in vain to see the wing again. Was there an Alukah perched on the airplane’s wing? Or was it just a drunk woman hallucinating? I chewed my lip. Maybe I was just being paranoid. Fuck, but what if I wasn’t? I could only hope that the Zimmah bond would protect us from an Alukah’s gaze.

No. Hoping is what Mark would do. I bet there was a way I could neutralize the gaze, and started my research.

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

Luka – London, England

Riding on the wing of an airplane was exhilarating.

After Mother sent me to kill Samnag Soun last night, I had flown south on wings made of my fiery-red hair. Young Crystal, one of Mother’s followers, called me Bayonetta when she saw me use my hair this way the first time. Bayonetta turned out to be a video game character, and Crystal got me hooked playing the game on her PS3. I reached Tacoma in a few minutes, swooping over the city, trying to isolate Sam’s scent through a city’s worth of humans.

When I found it, the trail led north back to Seattle. Hissing in frustration, I had to fly back the way I came. When I arrived at Boeing Field in southern Seattle, I had just missed her plane taking off, flying east. This was getting frustrating. I could fly fast, but I couldn’t fly quite as fast as a jet.

Doggedly I pursued, and the Country had passed as a blur beneath me as I followed the scent of the airplane through the skies. I had been lucky to arrive in New York City just in time, smelling Sam’s scent on a plane taxiing onto the runway. I landed on the wing, and used my hair to grip its leading edge while my gaze hypnotized any passenger that happened to looked out the window.

It had worked until that one lady got drunk and saw me.

Luckily, everyone just thought she was a hysteric woman. No-one else saw me for the rest of the flight and I enjoyed myself. The wind howled almost painfully, and exhilaratingly, past me, and we were up so high that if I had to breathe I would have been in trouble. The ocean was so blue as we passed over it. Once we flew above a thunderstorm; I watched in awe as lightning flashed and danced in the clouds below, a beautiful display of power that seemed for my eyes alone. When the sun set, the stars were so brilliant, twinkling down upon me. There were so many of them, more than I ever saw in Seattle.

By the time the plane began landing, I was feeling pretty weak. Feeding off my birth-mother once a week sustained me when I wasn’t exerting myself—when I didn’t fly halfway across the country and hitch a ride on an airplane. I could feel my thirst growing. I needed blood to survive, to fuel my powers. As the plane landed in a dreary city – London I think – I let go of the plane, swooping towards the airport’s terminal.

I could find someone to snack on in there.

I was overwhelmed when I snuck through a maintenance tunnel and entered the terminal proper. There were so many people; the smell of warm blood filled my nose. Everywhere I looked I could see veins and arteries, and all the beautiful blood pumping beneath their skin. Whom to drink from? Everywhere I looked was a feast.

I saw a flash of purple.

A girl wearing a gray hoodie and a gauzy, lilac skirt over black tights disappeared into a bathroom. Her hair, dyed purple, was shoulder length, framing a cute, round face. She was so enticing. I touched my sharp canines with my tongue and felt my nipples harden beneath my tight, red bodysuit; I took a page out of that video game and shaped the clothes from my hair. I followed the girl into the bathroom, smelling her warmth from the last stall.

I padded silently to the stall. The sharp, ammonia scent of urine filled my nostrils as I heard water splashing. The door was locked and the girl shouted “Occupied!” when I tried to open it. I leaped up and easily slid through the gap between the door and ceiling, then landed gracefully on my feet before her.

“Bloody hell!” the girl exclaimed in a melodic, British accent. “Why’d you go and do that?”

She sat on the toilet, her black tights and white panties bunched up around her ankles. I licked my lips and relaxed my hair. My clothing dissolved away, leaving me naked before the girl. All she could do was stare dumbfounded at me.

Finally, the girl collected her thoughts. “Clear off. I’m taking a piss, slag!”

I gazed at her; her eyes went wide and almost black as her pupils dilated. A shudder passed through her body and her lips curled with lust. She pulled off that gray hoodie, exposing a low cut, lilac blouse. I delighted to see the blood flooding her capillaries, giving a nice, red flush to her pale skin. She smelled delicious: warm blood, spicy cunt, acidic urine.

I had to taste her.

“Aren’t you tidy,” the girl purred, lost to the lust my gaze generated. “I could just dive right into that fanny and eat you all up!”

I turned, presenting my ass to the girl. I liked a good ass-licking and I was feeling horny. After she pleasured me, I could taste all the delights the girl’s body had to offer.

“Not your arse, I said your fanny!” she objected.

“My fanny is my ass,” I said in confusion.

“Bloody yanks! Your fish taco.” I only stared blankly at her over my shoulder. “Your cunt, stupid git.” I spun around and she knelt before me, her breath hot on my pussy. She took one, delicious lick of my pussy and I shuddered. “I love fish for supper,” she murmured before diving back in.

I leaned back against the door and let this girl devour my fanny; what a funny word for my pussy. Her tongue was agile, licking along my lips. Then she shoved her tongue deep into my hole, fucking my snatch like a small cock. My back arched and I writhed against the stall. I gripped the girl’s head and started humping my cunt into her lips.

“Um, yes, eat my cunt!” I moaned. “Delicious little slut!”

“Your fanny tastes bloody marvelous!” she purred.

“Don’t stop!” I hissed.

I groaned as she buried her wonderful tongue back into me. Her fingers started pinching my clit, sending wonderful pleasure radiating through my body. The girl moved her tongue up to my little pearl, rapidly flicking it as she slid a finger up inside me. Her finger hooked and curled, rubbing along the walls of my pussy, searching for just the right spot.

I exploded when she found it, my head banging back against the stall door, as an orgasm smashed through me. “Holy shit,” I muttered, panting heavily, gazing down at the girl who had a pleased look plastered on her face.

“Good one, huh,” she said proudly. “I’d fancy one myself.” Her blouse popped off and then her white bra, exposing a cute pair of breasts topped with dark nipples.

“Is everything all right in there?” someone asked from outside, banging on the stall door.

Irritation flashed through me and I opened it up to see a female janitor. “Close the bathroom,” I ordered as I gazed at her. “Let no-one in!”

“Yes,” she muttered in a daze. “The loo is closed.”

I pulled the girl out of the toilet as the janitor left the bathroom. I pushed my prey down and ripped her tights and panties off, leaving her naked save for her purple skirt bunched up around her waist. Her legs spread, and her fanny was shaved bare and glistened with lust. My fangs itched to sink into her pink flesh and taste her blood.

I fell on her, and she cooed in delight as I kissed her, biting her lips and enjoying the coppery blood. I kissed down her neck, feeling her pulse beating just beneath her skin. I itched to sink my fangs in and drink her heart’s blood, but that would attract too much attention. I kissed lower, down to her small breasts and sucked on her hard nipples, swirling my tongue around her nub.

“Suck my knockers!” the girl purred. “Give ’em a good suck!”

I could feel the blood flowing through her breasts and I sank my fangs into her perky flesh. I nursed at her tit, hungrily swallowing her coppery, delicious blood. It was so fresh, tasty, invigorating; the energy spread through my body, inflaming my lust. My prey writhed beneath me, moaning wordlessly; lost in the ultimate intimacy.

I was drinking her life, what could be more intimate?

“Shit that’s bloody amazing!” the girl moaned. “Ohh, what’re you doing to me!”

I left bloody kisses as I moved to her other breast. A second orgasm spasmed through her as I greedily drank her blood; my cheek rubbed against her hard nipple as I lapped the crimson oozing from her ivory flesh.

The scent of her pussy was intoxicating, beckoning to me. I slid down her body, nipping at her flat stomach, watching beads of dark blood blossoming across her pale flesh. I spread her thighs, her spicy scent filling my nose. Then I buried my face into her pussy, looking up at her body as her back arched in pleasure.

Was there anything more beautiful than crimson blood beading across white flesh?

“Um, suck on my fanny!” the girl moaned, kneading her bloody breasts. She was too lost to the lust my bite generated to feel the pain of all her tiny wounds. All she felt was the pleasure.

I nipped at her groin, watching a rivulet of blood run down and mix pink with her pussy juices. I dove in, lapping up the coppery, spicy flavor. I slid my tongue into her pussy, then up to brush her clit. This was so delicious.

“You bloody slag! Eat me! Devour me! I’m gonna cum! Oh shite, oh shite!”

Tasty juices and coppery blood flooded my mouth as she bucked against my face. My own pussy was on fire. I flipped around, straddling her face. Her tongue was rough as she lapped at my burning cunt, sending waves of pleasure through me as I bent down and nipped at her thigh, enjoying another flow of fresh blood. I was so intoxicated with her taste her tongue easily brought me to a powerful orgasm. I screamed into the meat of her silky thigh, her blood filling my lips; life and pleasure burst through me.

I formed new clothing, leaving my prey sprawled on the floor, her hand furiously rubbing her cunt as my bite’s lust still poured through her veins. Blood streaked her body, enhancing her natural beauty with vibrancy. She should live, I thought.

I felt more alive than ever as I slipped out of the bathroom. Never had my belly been so full of blood; a warmth that slowly grew and grew, spreading to every corner of my being. How great would I feel if I had drained every drop from the girl?

I shuddered just thinking about it.

I wiped the janitor’s memory, and stalked off, following the scent of Samnag Soun. I wouldn’t have to hold back with her. I would taste her blood, drinking in every last drop until her heart stopped beating—the blood stopped flowing. I would experience the rapture of draining a human dry.

For Mother.

To be continued…

Click here for Part 2.

The Devil’s Pact Chapter 39: Reunions

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Chapter 39: Reunions

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2013, 2014


Story Codes: Male/Female, Male/Female/Teen female, Male/Females, Female/Teen female, Mind Control, Magic, Oral, Anal, Creampie, Incest, Watersports, Orgy, Rimming, Romantic, Wedded Lust

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 38.



On September 30th, 2013, amidst blood and fire, the Tyrants’ reign began. In the name of Peace and Security, they put mankind beneath their Oppression. To fight the Darkness, the False Gods, Mark and Mary Glassner, shrouded the World in Night.

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

September 30th, 2013 – Mark Glassner – Tacoma, WA

Brandon Fitzsimmons was dead, executed at my orders; and as we faced the square before the Pierce County Courthouse in Tacoma, full of soldiers staring at us in worshipful awe, I couldn’t help but marvel at the the change in Mary. Something happened in France, something that transformed her feelings on how we should use our powers.

“Mark,” she had whispered in my ear as we finally held each other, reunited at last. I had been basking in our triumph—I was free, Molech was dead, Brandon was captured. All that was left was for Mary to exorcise him, and this terrible ordeal would be behind us. “We’ve started something terrible. A darkness approaches. We have to take some responsibility and fight back, Mark.”

Her words chilled my blood, a blast of arctic wind howling across my soul. I had opened my mouth to question her, but she pressed a finger to my lips and shook her head, emerald eyes flashing a warning. I trusted her, I loved her; she must have her reasons for not speaking more about it. Her next words transformed the arctic gale into a raging maelstrom when she said, “We need to prepare. We need to lead mankind, guide them and protect them. The Nuns are done. There is only you and me.

“We can make a better world, Mark. A utopia!”

My eyes grew wider and wider as she laid out her idea for the Theocracy. Mary had always been the cautious one, afraid of harming people, and now she wanted to enslave the entire world. We’d make them happy, we’d eliminate all the petty hatreds that had pointlessly divided mankind: sex, race, religion, creed, sexual orientation. We would be their Gods, loving and protecting them—ruling them gently.

Whatever scared my wife, whatever dark secret she learned from the Mother Superior, had driven her to this decision. I knew it was merely an extension of the direction we were already heading, but it was still as shocking as grabbing a downed power line. Right now we were going slow, not forcing people to worship us—guiding instead of commanding. After Brandon’s dramatic attack on us using an army, I didn’t have a problem with her plan. We needed power; we had been too laid back, too lax, and the consequences had been almost catastrophic. We needed an army; Brandon had taught me what true power was.

“A Utopia,” I agreed.

Mary exorcised Brandon, giving him a handjob and stealing his powers when he came. Then we marched outside, wreathed in the flames of Molech, and declared ourselves rulers of the US and Gods of mankind. It was for their own good; something bad, something terrible was approaching, and we needed to protect them.

Now we stood before the very soldiers that had attacked me, who now knelt in worship before us. I could see the guilt in their eyes – Brandon had forced them to commit many atrocities while they were his Thralls – melt away; they were grateful for our absolution as they stared up in awe at their new Gods. It was intoxicating; I could feel their love, their devotion, and I drank it in like water through the roots of a majestic oak tree.

“We need soldiers!” I proclaimed, still wreathed in flames, the news cameras of the world filming us, broadcasting our declaration live to the world. It was the beginning of our rule, our Theocracy. Brandon’s corpse lay at my feet. “Loyal men and women who pledge their lives to protect mankind from the coming darkness.”

“A Great Evil stirs in the world!” Mary declared passionately. “Lilith the Demoness walks the world, corrupting mankind, and other forces stir in the shadows! You have a choice: serve us and fight the darkness, or be cowards and slink off to your loved ones and watch the world die, knowing deep in your hearts you could have done something to stop it!”

“Soldiers, you were falsely used by Brandon; find redemption in serving us! Find glory in serving us!” I roared. “I ask that you swear fidelity and obedience to us, to fight the Darkness and save the World!”

Azrael said I could bind willing people with this prayer, gift them with protections from demonic powers, allow their weapons to harm spiritual flesh. Azrael wasn’t sure how many I could bind; a normal monk could have at most a hundred, but I was different. I had access to far more power. I felt it when I fought Molech, drawing on all the people bound to me, pooling our energies to fuel the dead I had summoned. When I killed Molech, his powers had flowed into me and then into Mary. I don’t know why the power passed into my wife; maybe because we were bound so tightly with magics, or maybe because Molech’s essence was too much for my soul alone to contain. Whatever the reason, we had a new source of energy flowing through us.

All of the soldiers in the square knelt and swore: “I pledge my rifle to the service of Mark and Mary Glassner. With obedience and fidelity, shall I follow his leadership. Until my Gods release me or death takes me,” and were bound to me with the Ragily prayer.

As the assembled group of soldiers – easily more than two hundred of them – finished their oaths, I felt power flow out of me and into them. Their auras remained silver, a mortal’s aura, but a halo of gold surrounded the silver. According to Azrael, they would be loyal and incorruptible; and there were far more soldiers occupying Tacoma and stationed at Joint Base Lewis-McChord that could swear to me and create an army—my army. Brandon had shown just how dangerous an army in the hands of a Warlock could be.

“My Lord,” an older man with stars on his fatigues said as he stood before me, snapping a crisp salute. “Lieutenant-General Arthur Brooks, commander I Corps.”

“Good, assemble all of your soldiers,” I told him, awkwardly saluting him back. I would have to practice that; a God should appear proficient in all things. “The occupation of Tacoma is over.”

“Very well, sir.” He paused. “And what would you have us do with the President, sir.”

I frowned. “What?”

“The President and most of the cabinet are imprisoned here in the jail. At the False God’s orders.” His eyes glanced over at the corpse of Brandon Fitzsimmons.

“Free him,” Mary ordered. “Bring him to us.”

The President was brought before us, bedraggled from his time spent in the jail. He was defiant at first, until Mary gave him a peremptory command: “Kneel and swear allegiance to the Theocracy.” He knelt, he swore, he worshiped. After him knelt the cabinet secretaries. I ordered the President to have all the heads of every Federal Agency travel to Washington State so they could be put under our control—especially the FBI and the Intelligence Agencies.

With that done, Mary and I wanted to go home, to rest and wait for our loved ones to return from Kansas. Then we learned that Brandon had destroyed our neighborhood, burned down every house, the foundations to our mansion, and the pavilion that the Living Church met in. Luckily, no-one was at the tent; God only knows what Brandon would have done to the people who worship us.

We occupied the Hotel Murano in downtown Tacoma, a swanky place on Broadway; it would be our home until the mansion was constructed. For security reasons we had all the guests check-out, and had the staffs dismissed. No-one would be close to us that wasn’t bound by the Zimmah or Ragily spells. Willow had been recruiting women to serve us from her clinic, getting things ready for when our mansion was finished being constructed; we would need to start binding them now, and they would serve us by running the hotel.

Violet turned up a little while after we arrived at the Murano. Our soldiers had formed a perimeter around the hotel to keep people back; crowds had begun to grow, filling the streets around the hotel with a sea of worshipful faces—pilgrims drawn to their new Gods. I was too exhausted to face any more people. I needed to rest and to process what had happened to me.

“Master!” Violet cried out when the soldiers led her into the hotel lobby. The last of the guests had been ushered out, and we were watching the staff leave as we waited for an elevator to descend; we wanted to head up to our rooms. 51 and 27 – the only two of the nine bodyguards with me that survived Brandon’s attack – stood protective watch over us, M16s clutched in their hands. Violet ran to us, crying in relief, in happiness. “Mistress!” Mary and I caught her in a hug and took turns kissing her on the lips. She buried her face into our chests and began to sob.

“It’s okay,” Mary murmured, stroking her hair.

“I thought you were going to die!” she cried.

“Not this time,” I told her, wiping at her tears.

Violet nodded her head, sniffing, and saw Desiree sitting listlessly on a chair, covered in a blanket. Our Latina slut had been very subdued since we won. She had been forced to be Brandon’s whore, and that seemed to have broken something inside her. Violet went to her and hugged her enthusiastically and kissed her on the lips. Desiree barely acknowledged her.

Mary gave Desiree a worried look, then pulled Violet back to her and asked the slut, “Are you hurt? Did anything happen to you?”

Violet shook her head. “A deaf woman named Loreena hid me. It was scary. Soldiers broke into the house and we hid beneath her stairs.”

“They were rounding up women for Molech,” Desiree said with a hollow voice, then she gave a shudder.

“You’re safe now,” Mary told Desiree gently, reaching out to rest a comforting hand on her shoulder. “And Alison’s on the way. So let’s go upstairs and you can lie down and rest, okay?”

Desiree didn’t answer, but when the elevator dinged, she got up and followed the three of us in; 51 and 27 stepped into the elevator, scanning the lobby as the doors slowly slid closed.

I glanced at Violet. “Elevator slut,” I whispered to her and she smiled, remembering how we met. It was in Seattle and we were checking out, riding down an elevator, when we met Violet and I was so enchanted by her innocent beauty that I had to defile her right there in the elevator.

Violet wore a pair of ill-fitting sweat-pants and a baggy sweatshirt, and she quickly peeled those off. “I’m your elevator slut,” she cooed.

“Not today,” Mary butted in, pressing up against me. “The first pussy Mark gets is mine.”

“Oh, of course, Mistress,” Violet apologized.

I pulled Mary to me, kissing her on the lips, her naked body pressing up against mine. Her lips tasted sweet. My hand slid up her supple body, cupping her left, perky breast. I gave it a gentle squeeze, my fingers finding her hard nipple. After what had happened to me, the endless beatings, the cruelties I witnessed, I almost regretted ever making my Pact.

Almost.

It was all worth it for her—for my Mary. I would do anything to keep her, to protect her. Anything.

The elevator dinged; we had reached the top floor and I picked up my wife. We had the largest suite for ourselves, and I carried her to the door. It was spacious, well furnished. A central living room with three bedrooms leading from it. We gave Desiree one of the bedrooms, and she walked in and closed the door wordlessly.

I carried Mary to the bathroom, beautifully appointed with gray and mauve, very modern, equipped with a jacuzzi-bath and a large shower. And a bidet; I could have water splashing on my ass. The shower had always been our private space; there was something intimate and close about showering with your love—the world reduced to just Mary and I, wrapped in the warm spray. I sat Mary down and turned the faucet. When the water was warm she slipped in and I eagerly followed. I savored the relaxing heat as the spray cascaded upon us, washing the filth of the last days off our bodies.

Mary’s hands were gentle as she washed my body. She rubbed me everywhere, particularly my ass. She had a naughty smile on her lips as she squeezed my cheeks, then she ‘washed’ my cock for a good five minutes, getting me hard as a steel rod. Her hand felt wonderful as it slid up and down on my shaft. She rinsed the soap off it, then she knelt down.

“Naughty filly,” I groaned as her lips engulfed the head of my cock. I stroked her wet, auburn hair and leaned against the shower wall and enjoyed her blowjob. She sucked hard, swirling her tongue about my cock’s head, then slowly buried my cock all the way into her mouth, deep-throating me to the root. “I love you so much, Mare!”

She would let me enjoy being buried down her throat for a minute, then slide slowly back up, sucking hard on my cock, until only the tip remained in her lips. She would drive me wild by flicking her tongue rapidly around my cock while stroking the shaft, then she would slide her lips all the way down and deep-throat me once more.

“Fuck that feels great!” I moaned, her throat constricting about the sensitive head of my cock. “Umm, I’m gonna cum!”

Since I made my Pact, I was used to cumming multiple times a day. It was Monday evening, and I hadn’t had an orgasm since Saturday morning; my balls exploded, filling Mary’s hungry mouth with a huge load of my spunk. Six large blasts. Mary swallowed it all.

She stood up, threw her arms around my neck and rubbed her nose against mine, smiling, “You were a little backed up, Mark.”

“Just a little,” I smiled, and kissed her salty lips.

I had a lot of fun washing my wife. I soaped her back, her arms and her sides, before I started on her front. I soaped her flat stomach, washing slowly upwards until I reached the undersides of her breasts. I rubbed around her tits, washing her chest and collarbone. She grabbed my hands impatiently, and brought them down to cup her breasts. I smiled, and washed her perky breasts, stroking her areola, then played with her hard nipples.

“Umm, that feels nice, hun,” Mary sighed. Then squealed in delight as I bent my head down and sucked a soapy nipple into my lips, while my hands roamed down to her plump ass, kneading the cheeks.

I released her nipple, soaped up my hands and knelt down and began washing her legs. I started with her right calf and worked my up to her thigh. Her pussy was waxed, her slit tight, and she shuddered as I rubbed my hand across her flushed vulva, just once.

“Don’t stop!” she protested as I started washing down her left leg. “God, I’m so horny!”

“What do you want me to do about that?”

“Eat me!”

“Hmm,” I said, pretending to consider her request.

“Please!” She sounded so frustrated, her emerald eyes staring down at me full of need.

“All right,” I answered. “It does look absolutely delicious.”

“You won’t be disappointed,” she promised.

I buried my face in her spicy-sweetness. My tongue explored her folds, kissing every part of her pussy. She tasted heavenly and I wasn’t disappointed. I wrapped my arms around her hips and grabbed her ass and pulled her tight against me. I devoured her. My filly, my wife, my one true love. I couldn’t get enough of her. I almost lost her. Mary was shuddering on my face, cumming and cumming, but I just kept eating her out. I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to ever stop pleasuring her.

Mary had other ideas. “Please stop,” she begged after I lost count of her climaxes, pulling on my hair. “It’s too much! My pussy needs a break!”

A mix of pride and regret filled me as I stood up and kissed her, crushing her tightly to my chest. Inside me the dam holding my emotions back burst, and I felt tears running down my face. “I thought I lost you, Mare!”

A shudder ran through her body that turned into a ragged sob, her face pressed into my neck, clinging just as tight. “I’m terrified, Mark.”

“Why?” I asked. What did she learn in France? Lucifer will rise free of the Abyss and you will burn in his radiance, Mortal! Molech’s words echoed in my mind as he lay defiantly at my feet. Was he lying to save his life, or was Lucifer really trying to escape? “What scared you, Mare?”

She just shook her head, that warning look flashing across her face.

“We’ll face it together,” I told her; I had to trust her, there must be an important reason for her not to speak.

“Together,” she whispered. “Forever, right?”

“Forever.”

Violet took a shower when we left, while I carried my damp, naked wife to our bedroom. The bed was king-sized, mahogany finish, adorned with a maroon comforter. I gently sat Mary down and stretched out beside her. She kissed me, rolling on top of me. Her wet, auburn hair fell about us, cool on my cheeks as we kissed. Her hands stroked my side, then slid down and found my cock, hard and ready for her.

She grasped my shaft, shifted her hips, and guided it to her sopping pussy. I groaned into her lips as she pushed my cock into her velvety tightness. She took all of it, then slowly rocked on top of me. I gripped her plump ass, giving her cheeks a squeeze, and helped slide her body up and down on me. Her hard nipples dragged across my chest. Mary’s emerald eyes stared down into mine and we were lost peering into each other’s souls as we made love.

“I love you, my horny stallion,” she whispered.

“My naughty filly,” I whispered back. “My love.”

She rocked her hips faster, her pussy gripping my cock with wet silk and heat. Faster and faster she rocked, and I started thrusting my hips up, driving my dick into her. The heat of her cunt grew as we made love faster. I rolled her over onto her back and began pounding her hard. Her red lips opened in pleasure, her hips rising to meet my thrusts.

“Ride me, stud!” Mary gasped. “Oh, I missed this! I missed you so damn much!”

I grabbed her legs, hooked them over my shoulders. Her cunt tightened on my cock and I thrust deeper into her pussy. Her perky breasts jiggled as I hammered into her, sweat rolling down her perfect mounds.

“Your cunt feels amazing on me, Mare,” I groaned. “The best pussy in the world!”

She beamed at me. “You haven’t had every pussy in the world, how would you know for sure?”

“I’ve had enough to know!”

“Yes you have, my horny stallion!”

Mary added a twist to her hips. It felt amazing on my cock. My balls were getting closer to bursting as they slapped into her taint. She threw her head back, her eyes squeezed shut as she gasped loudly. I felt her cunt spasming on my cock as her orgasm rippled through her body, massaging my dick as it pumped in her sheath.

“Gonna cum!” I gasped. “Your cunt’s milking me!”

“Yes, yes! Give me your cum! I need it in me!”

“My pleasure,” I moaned and flooded her hungry pussy, every muscle in my body tensing, before I collapsed on top of my wife.

“Mmhh, that was nice,” she sighed, kissing me.

I rolled off of her and she snuggled against me. I slid my hand down and rubbed at her pregnant belly. I almost lost more than just my wife. I almost lost my unborn baby girl. Well, I didn’t know what the sex of our child was, but in my heart I knew it was a girl. Chasity Glassner.

If I could kill Brandon again, I would.

The door to our bedroom opened, and Violet peered in, naked and freshly showered.

“Come in, slut,” Mary smiled.

Violet beamed at us and positively skipped over and snuggled up on the other side of me, pressing her budding breasts against my side and kissing my lips eagerly. “You taste like Mistress,” she giggled.

“That’s because Mark gave me some great head,” Mary smiled.

“He’s a generous man,” Violet said seriously.

Mary’s hand slid down and found my cock half-hard. “Very generous. I bet he wants to share his generosity with you.”

“Do you, Master?” Violet asked eagerly, her hand joining Mary’s on my dick, which expanded rapidly beneath the two women’s burning touch.

I slid a hand down and squeezed her tight, teen ass. “I do, slut.” I pressed my fingers into her buttcrack and found her puckered anus, circling it with my fingers. “How do you think I should share my generosity with you?”

“My ass,” Violet answered. “My slutty, tight asshole!”

“Good girl,” I told her, kissing her lips. “And I bet Mary has something she wants to share with you between her legs.”

“Oohh, is there a creampie for me, Mistress?”

Mary spread her thighs. “Just for you, slut.”

Violet clambered over me and buried her face in Mary’s snatch, licking noisily at my wife’s messy cunt. Mary rolled her eyes in pleasure, gripped Violet’s brown hair and started grinding her pussy into the teen’s lips. I moved behind Violet, stroking her tight ass, then spread her cheeks and found her brown hole.

My cock was drenched with Mary’s lubrication, and I gathered some of Violet’s and worked it into her ass with two fingers, sinking into her tight flesh. When I had her nice and lubed, I placed the head of my cock at her tight opening, and pushed it in slowly, savoring the warm satin of her bowels.

“Uhh, that feels amazing, Master!”

“Keep licking, slut!” Mary admonished.

I smacked Violet’s ass. “You heard her slut!”

“Sorry, Mistress,” Violet squeaked and buried her face back into Mary’s cunt.

Mary grinned and began playing with her perky breasts, her green eyes fluttering with lust. I started fucking Violet’s ass with deep, hard thrusts, driving the little slut into Mary’s cunt with every thrust, while my balls slapped wetly into Violet’s pussy. Her hips moved, fucking me back as she moaned her pleasure into Mary’s cunt.

Mary gasped, “God, I love your tongue, Violet! Suck my clit, you little whore! Make me scream in pleasure!” Mary’s eyes widened, and her body shook in pleasure. “Umm, that’s right. Keep that tongue flicking on my clit! You are such a naughty, cunt-munching slut! I’m going to drown you in my juices!”

I smacked Violet’s butt a second time, leaving a red, stinging handprint, and fucked her tight ass faster. Her anal sheath was bringing my balls to a quick boil. I was getting desperately close to cumming, and I pumped hard and frantic.

“Fucking slut!” I moaned. “Your dirty ass feels so good on my cock. I’m going to shoot so much cum up your ass!”

Mary’s back arched – her perky breasts heaving like a rearing horse, majestic, beautiful – as she orgasmed. She screamed wordlessly, and I could smell the strong scent of her arousal as she flooded Violet’s lips with girl-cum. I felt Violet’s ass squeezing my cock, the little slut cumming about me. I pounded her ass a few more times, closing my eyes as I reached the pinnacle of my pleasure, then groaned as I exploded inside her ass.

“Thank you Master, Mistress,” Violet panted as I pulled out of her ass.

I lay down next to my panting wife, pulled her to me, and kissed her. Violet started licking at my dirty cock, like a good little slut, and I closed my eyes and the exhaustion of the last weekend fell upon me like a ton of bricks.

“Master,” a voice said, shaking my leg, waking me up. I had been out like a log, and now I was disoriented. The sun had set while I was passed out; the hotel room dark as sin. A glanced at the clock; it was close to midnight. Mary was sleeping on one side of me and Violet was curled up on the other side. 51 was standing at the foot of my bed, naked and an M16 slung over her shoulder.

“What?” I asked sleepily.

“Your family has arrived,” 51 reported. “They’ve almost passed the crowds. There are thousands crowding the streets. It’s like St. Peters Square out there.”

“Thank you, 51,” I yawned, shook Mary awake, and gave her a kiss.

I led my wife to the suite’s balcony, wanting to see the crowds. It was a cold, clear September night and our flesh pimpled. Mary shivered then concentrated and flames danced around her; she smiled. The flames didn’t burn me, but they would burn someone else, as poor 51 learned earlier today after we exorcised Brandon. I hugged my wife to me, enjoying the warmth licking my body, and we gazed down at the streets.

They were filled with people for blocks, many with candles, lighting up the streets like the starry sky. These were the people we needed to protect. Molech warned me that Lucifer was up to something dangerous, something I would oppose. Is this the secret Mary learned? Well, if I started something when I made my Pact, I had the responsibility to fix it, to make the world a better place. A world where people didn’t hurt each other, fear each other.

I would give the world love and peace. Utopia.

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

Alison de la Fuentes

I trembled with excitement when the SUV finally made it through all the crowds of people that clogged the streets of Tacoma. April sat next to me, the nerdy teen squeezing my hand, just as excited as I was, eager to see her girlfriend Violet. The two, shy teenagers, bonding with their shared pregnancies, had become quite the item lately. I’m sure Master hasn’t noticed a thing.

After spending the weekend worried sick not only about Master and Mistress, but about my wife, Desiree, I was so excited to be reunited with her. Watching her on TV yesterday, hanging on Brandon’s arm, filled me with fear. Desiree was smiling and seemed happy, but I could see the fear in her eyes, the tightness in her lips. The bastard did something to her to make her cooperate.

We passed a cordon of soldiers and then we were in front of the hotel. I threw open the door, racing into the lobby. Master and Mistress were waiting and I ran to them, hugged them, and felt so happy when they kissed me on the lips. You should always stay near them, my subconscious whispered.

“It’s good to see you, Alison,” Master said to me, stroking my face.

I was about to ask where Desiree was, when April pushed me to the side to hug our Masters. And then everyone else burst in, and I drifted out to the side as Jessica, Xiu, Korina, and Lillian were eager to embrace them too. Then their families arrived; Master embraced his mom and sister, and Mistress shared a group-hug with her family.

I strained my neck, looking around the lobby. Leah – Master’s chauffeur; she had been captured by Brandon as well – had a joyful reunion with Rachel and Jacob, her spouses. But where was my Desiree? I looked around, a pit forming in my stomach. My breath quickened. Where was my Latin beauty?

I wormed my way to Mistress, trying to stay calm. “Upstairs,” Mistress told me, sensing my question. “In our suite. Top floor.”

“Thank you, Mistress.”

I raced to the elevator and smashed my fingers onto the up button furiously. I stared at the display that showed which floor it was at, watching the numbers slowly grow lower as the elevator descended. I wanted to scream at the stupid thing, I was so wound up inside. I needed it to come down. I burned inside to see my Desiree. Finally, the elevator dinged, the doors opened, and I shot inside. I pounded the 17th floor and then just repeatedly mashed the door close button. I screamed in frustration as the doors just seemed to refuse to close. Slowly, ever so slowly, the doors finally slid closed, the elevator lifting me up.

It seemed to take an eternity. I was practically yelling at the stupid thing to go faster. I felt red-faced when I reached the top floor. A bodyguard, 27, stood naked – an M16 clutched in her hand – before a door at the end of the hallway. 27 smiled tiredly at me as she opened the door with the keycard. There were three bedrooms in the suite; Desiree was in the second one I tried.

My wife sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the ground. Empty alcohol mini-bottles littered the floor. Her neck was bare, her choker missing. “Desiree!” I shouted and sat down next to her and wrapped my arms around her. Desiree pushed me off.

“Go away,” she said, slurring her voice.

Her words stung. I had expected a tearful, happy reunion. “No,” I told her, cupping her face. “Talk to me.”

She tore her face away. “Don’t touch me!”

“Why?” I asked.

Desiree ignored me, instead standing up and wobbling to the minibar. I stood up and grabbed her hand. “You’ve had enough to drink, Desiree.”

“Leave me alone, Alison,” she pleaded, slumping to the floor.

“Just talk to me,” I told her, kneeling down next to her. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong. I just don’t want you anymore.”

Her words hurt. Fuck her my subconscious whispered inside me. You can do better than her, let the stupid cunt wallow drunkenly. Go find Master and fuck him! That was just the pain of Desiree’s words talking, and I pushed them down. My subconscious had a nasty streak to it I learned growing up, but that wasn’t important; something was wrong with my wife. She was in pain, lashing out blindly. I needed to get through to her somehow. I couldn’t let that monster steal my wife from me. Not without me putting up a hell of a fight for her.

Is she really worth it? whispered my subconscious. I ignored the voice; of course Desiree was worth it.

So I laughed dismissively at Desiree. “Don’t lie to me,” I told her, pulling off my tight T-shirt, baring my lovely breasts and my hard nipples pierced with silver barbells. I grabbed her face and turned her to look at them. I could see her eyes flick down to my nipples, a momentary flash of lust. “Don’t lie to me and tell me you don’t want me. I know you do. Just like I want you, Desiree.”

That was the wrong thing to say.

Desiree grabbed me and pushed me onto my back. “That’s all you want. My body!” She yanked the baggy shirt off, exposing those magnificent breasts of hers and shook them at me. “Here it is, Alison. Use me! Take your pleasure!” Tears started running down her face. “That’s all I’m good for!”

“No, I don’t want your body,” I told her. “I want you. I love you.”

“How can you love such a filthy, disgusting creature like me,” Desiree sobbed. “I let him touch me. He…used every part of my body. I let him! I let that monster make me his whore! I betrayed you, Alison!”

“Shh, you didn’t betray me, Desiree. You did what you had to, right? He was going to hurt you.” I hugged my wife, and she sobbed and sobbed into my neck. I don’t know how long I held her, stroking her hair, letting her pour out all her pain, anguish, fear. I held her and rocked her and cried with her until she had poured every teardrop left in her. I wished Brandon was still alive so I could kill him myself.

Fucking Warlock! You should hate all the Warlocks, my subconscious whispered. Every last fucking one of them!

“I love you, Desiree,” I told her. “You’re my slut-wife. Forever.”

“How can you still love me?” she demanded of me, her bloodshot eyes peering hopelessly at me.

I smiled at her. “Because you are strong and beautiful and loving. Because you own my heart.” I grabbed her hand and placed it on my chest. “Feel it beat. That’s yours. It beats for you. Master and Mistress own my body. You own my heart.”

“Mi Sirenita,” Desiree sighed. “How did I get so lucky to meet you.”

Destiny, my subconscious whispered. They were such beautiful words, so I echoed them to my wife as I slid her hand over to cup my left breast. “Destiny. Our Masters are changing the world and we were chosen to help them.”

I shuddered as Desiree ran her thumb around my areola, hardening my nipple. My wife ducked her head down; I sighed in pleasure as she sucked it and my piercing into her lips. Her hand slid down my stomach, circling my bellybutton, then slid down to my side, gripping me as she sucked harder at my nub.

“My love,” I sighed. “Umm, I missed you so much.”

Desiree pushed me down to my back, and pushed up the short skirt I wore, exposing my stubbly cunt. I hadn’t shaved all weekend, and I flushed in embarrassment. She could see my brown pubes, my real hair color. Desiree smiled, rubbing her fingers through them, then bent down and I shuddered as she licked up my slit, her tongue teasing my clit.

Her fingers spread me open and her tongue tasted everywhere inside my pussy, driving me wild with her gentle licks. Her plump lips sucked my labia in, sending shuddering waves of pleasure through me. I writhed on the carpet as my wife made love to me, and my first orgasm shuddered deliciously through me.

“Oh, yes!” I moaned as my Desiree began licking me to another orgasm. “Hmm, I love it! I love you!”

My second orgasm was more powerful than the first. I halfway sat up as my stomach tightened in ecstasy. Then Desiree slipped three fingers inside me, pumping them in and out of me as her lips focused their attention on my hard clit.

“Yes, yes, yes! Finger me! Nibble on my clit!” Her teeth sent me spasming with my third orgasm. I screamed loudly and everything went black. When I returned to myself, Desiree was snuggled up against me, her lips sticky with my sweet honey.

“You passed out, mi Sirenita.”

“You were that amazing,” I told her and kissed her. “Umm, it’s my turn.”

“You don’t have to,” Desiree said, tensing up.

“Nonsense,” I told her. “You are too beautiful for me to resist.”

“But I’m all dirty.”

I licked her neck, tasting her sweat. “I don’t care, Desiree. You could never be too dirty for me.”

I stood up and pulled my wife to her feet, then led her to the bed. “You are going to scream in pleasure,” I told her as I pushed her down.

“Promise?” Desiree asked, her voice thick with her sultry accent.

“Cross my heart,” I said, tracing an X on my boob; Desiree smiled and kissed me there, and pulled me down atop her as she laid on her back.

I kissed her lips, enjoying the feel of her voluptuous body beneath me. I licked her face clean of my tasty honey, then licked down her jaw to her supple neck. I planned on kissing every square inch of her beautiful, brown skin. I smooched her all over her neck, where her choker should be, like the one around my neck; they proclaimed whom we belonged to. Then I started working on her shoulders. I kissed down her left arm, down to her hand, sucking all her fingers into my lips. I switched to her right hand, her fingers sticky with my passion and I sucked them clean, before I began smooching back up to her shoulder.

I smooched along her collarbone, traced her breastbone down between the mountains of her tits. I licked underneath her right boob, salty with sweat, and around the tit, my cheek rubbing against her silky skin as I made it to the top. Then I kissed down, covering ever square inch of her right breast, before I licked her large, dark-pink areola. It was bumpy on my skin, and I spiraled into her turgid nipple and sucked it into my mouth.

“You’re driving me wild, mi Sirenita!”

I grinned at her, and went to work kissing her left breast. I began with the nipple this time, and Desiree shuddered in delight as I sucked it into my hungry lips. Then I spiraled out, kissing every spot on her perfect breast. I continued smooching down her stomach, my hair tickling Desiree as my lips brushed her sensitive stomach, then tongued her cute bellybutton, bringing shudders of laughter.

I kept tonguing her navel. I was so happy to hear her laugh.

I kissed down to her groin, tracing her hip as I got closer and closer to her shaved pussy. I could smell her tangy, spicy arousal. I had missed that scent so badly this weekend, so I inhaled deeply, delighting in her natural perfume. Instead of smooching her pussy, I started down her right leg. Desiree moaned in frustration, and I giggled. I kissed her knee, her shin, sucked her toes into my lips and licked at the soles of her feet. I repeated it with her left leg, then told her to flip over.

I kissed her sleek back, moving down her spine to her plump, Latina ass. I rubbed my cheeks against her cheeks, then smooched every inch of her butt. I spread her buttcheeks apart, exposing her brown asshole. I kissed that too, tasting the sour flavor. I swirled my tongue around her ass, then pushed against the tight sphincter, forcing my tongue inside her warm bowels.

Nothing about my wife was dirty to me.

I sucked and licked, enjoying her heavy breathing. “Umm, that feels nice,” she moaned.

“And tastes delicious,” I purred, then bent down to rim her ass some more.

“I bet my pussy tastes even better.”

“You sure you’re not too dirty?” I asked her, stroking the edges of her vulva.

“No,” she hissed. “No, I’m not too dirty.”

“Good!” I spread her thighs and buried my face in her pussy.

I reveled in the taste of her, that spicy and tangy flavor, juices thick on my lips. I swallowed it, drank them down. I ran my tongue from her clit up through her slit, then shoved it into her pussy, pressing into her hot hole. My hands grabbed her plump ass, squeezing hard as I dug into her cunt. My fingers slid down her ass crack and I started stroking her asshole, then sank my middle finger into her bowels.

“Umm, you naughty slut,” Desiree moaned.

“Always,” I giggled, then buried my tongue back into her tasty cunt.

“Your tongue stud is driving me crazy!” Her asscheeks clenched and a flood of delicious juices issued from her pussy as I made my wife cum. “Fuck! Fuck!” she howled. I kept licking, fingering her ass, then I switched to her clit. She moaned wordlessly, orgasm after intense orgasm spasming through her body.

Finally she had enough, and I pulled my lips away from her delicious cunt. Desiree rolled over onto her back and she smiled down at me. I crawled up her body and kissed her gently on the lips. Her right hand caressed my cheek and I saw gold glinting on her finger. I grabbed her hand and saw her wedding band.

“This is on the wrong hand.”

“I didn’t want them to take it,” Desiree answered. “So I switched hands. They took my choker and I couldn’t lose this.”

I felt tears running down my face, and I gently pulled the ring off her finger. I grabbed her left hand and slipped it on and kissed her fingers. “There, back where it belongs.”

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

Mark Glassner

My mom and sister could not stop hugging me, touching me. “I was so worried,” Mom almost sobbed, “watching you getting beaten.”

“I’m fine, Mom,” I told her and kissed her on the lips.

“I thought you were toast, big bro,” Antsy said, trying to be her usual, playful self.

“How could I die when I have so many beautiful women in my life,” I told her and kissed my little sister on the lips. Betty and Via giggled, and joined the hug. They were the girlfriends of my mom and sisters, and I wrapped my arms around all four happy, smiling women.

Mary was surrounded by her family. Missy and Shannon sandwiched her, while Sean and Tiffany hugged all three of their daughters fiercely. Mary’s eyes met mine, and and she sent me, I think we owe our families some quality time. Particularly you, Mark. You gave them quite the scare. I could feel her amused tone.

I laughed. No fair, your family is bigger. In addition to her family, Damien and George were hovering on the edges. They were Missy’s boyfriend and Shannon’s fiancee respectively.

I’m just luckier than you, Mark!

Mary suddenly wormed out of her family and walked over to Sam. She sat on the couch with Candy, her plaything, curled up beside her. Curious, I begged off my family, and told them I would be right back.

Antsy grabbed my hard cock. “I know you will, big bro!”

Mary sat down next to Sam and glanced at me as I walked up. “We need you to do something that is very important.”

“What, ma’am?” Sam asked.

“Go to the Motherhouse in Rennes-le-Château,” Mary explained. “In the basement you will find a room. Study it carefully. I need you to reconstruct it perfectly.”

“What is it?” Sam asked. I was curious too.

“No questions,” Mary told her. “This is very important. Mark and I can’t go; we need to attend to things here in the States. Take the 747 to the East Coast, then book a regular flight from there to Toulouse, France. Be discreet and protect yourself.”

Sam glanced at Candy. “Can I take her with me?”

Mary nodded, “Just remember that this is very important, okay?”

“Of course,” Sam answered. “You can count on us.”

“Good,” Mary sighed in relief. “The Chief of Police in Toulouse is under my power. He has the standard cop orders. Contact him for help or if anything goes wrong.”

Sam nodded. “Come on, Candy. Let’s go.”

“I’m tired,” Candy pouted, but let Sam drag her off.

“What is that room?” I asked Mary.

She chewed her lip; she did that when she was thinking. “Lilith tried to kill you today,” Mary finally said. “She can spy on us from the Shadows. She could be watching us right now.”

That sent a chill through my veins and I glanced around. “And what is the room then?”

“A Hidden Place. A Matmown. Lilith cannot spy on us in there.” Mary swallowed. “We cannot plot against her until we have this secure place.”

So this is what she was holding back. Unless there was more. If it blocked Lilith, did that mean it blocked other beings?

Like the Devil.

Lucifer will rise free of the Abyss and you will burn in his radiance, Mortal! Molech’s warning echoed in my mind. Mary nodded her head, and gave me a cautionary look. Did she sense what I just figured out? Not even this is secure from Lilith she sent telepathically with the Siyach spell. Then a smile appeared on Mary’s face. “Go be with your family, Mark.”

“Join us,” I told her. “They’re your family, too. I don’t want us to be apart tonight.”

Mary glanced at her family, then at me, indecision painting her face.

“We can be with your family tomorrow night,” I promised.

An excited glint appeared in my wife’s eyes. “Let me go say good night.”

We piled into the elevators and I grabbed my mom and pressed her against the wall, kissing her passionately. Antsy pounced on Mary and was eagerly kissing my wife, and I saw mocha-skinned Betty kissing ivory-skinned Via with ardor. I had my mom’s blouse open by the time we reached the penthouse, and I fondled her breasts. They were still beautiful. Mom was never busty, so there wasn’t too much sag after forty-three years; she was a MILF.

27 looked exhausted when she opened the suite’s door with a keycard. Desiree’s bedroom door was closed and I guessed Alison must be in there with her. I hoped Alison could help Desiree deal with all the crap that happened to her. The girls were all pushing me to the bedroom and I didn’t resist. Clothes were flying off and quickly there were five very naked women squirming on the bed with me in the middle.

“Umm, you’re feeling quite hard,” Mom moaned as she mounted me, guiding my cock to her waxed cunt.

I groaned as she sank down, engulfing me with her wet pussy. “You’re feeling quite wet!”

“My son is back where he belongs!”

Next to me, Mary was pulling Via onto her face while Antsy spread her legs. I smiled, watching my sister bury her face in my wife’s cunt, eagerly licking away. Betty draped her body behind mom, kissing her on the neck.

“Fuck your son, Sandy,” Betty cooed into my mom’s ears. “I want to lick your snatch clean.”

My mom gave a throaty laugh. “That sounds wonderful, love!”

Betty’s dark hands wrapped around my mom, hefting a breast and reaching down to find her clit. My mom’s cunt tightened on me as she gasped in pleasure. Her hips rose and fell and I groaned as her pussy pleasured. I reached up and fondled Mom’s other breast as Betty started kissing her neck.

“That’s it, honey,” Betty cooed. “Ride his cock!”

“I am, love!” Mom gasped, turning her head and kissing her Black girlfriend.

“Oh, your tongue is amazing,” moaned Via next to me. My sister’s girlfriend tossed her black hair with its scarlet highlights; her large breasts heaved as she writhed on my wife’s face. My eyes trailed down her body and I found Mary’s freckled, perky breasts jiggling invitingly.

I leaned over and sucked my wife’s breast into my lips. I could hear Mary’s muffled gasps. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Antsy’s face as she devoured my wife’s pussy. My little sister looked like she was in heaven. I knew just what she tasted; eating Mary’s pussy was one of my favorite things in the world.

“Ohh, Mark, your cock is stirring me up!” moaned Mom. “And your fingers, Betty!”

Betty giggled, then licked my mom’s ear. “Why don’t you cum then, Sandy! Cum all over your son’s cock!”

My mom’s hips were pumping faster and faster, her breasts rising and falling beautifully. “That sounds like a great idea! Ummm, just pinch my clit a little harder, love! Ohhh, that’s it! Yes, yes! Oh, yes!”

Her cunt was a vice on my cock as she came, milking me. I released my wife’s breast and laid back on the bed, pleasure coursing through me. “Just a little more, Mom,” I groaned through clenched teeth. My entire body tensed as my orgasm approached. Up and down Mom pumped her tight sheath on my cock. My back arched and I was shooting inside my mom, inside the very womb I came from.

That just made it more exciting.

“Umm, he left you a lot, love,” my mom purred to Betty as she rolled off me.

Betty spread my mom’s legs and smiled, licking her lips. “He sure did, Sandy.”

My cock hardened as I watched the dark girl bury herself between my mom’s pale thighs, licking furiously at her messy cunt. Mom threw back her head and sighed in pleasure. “I love it when you eat me out!”

Betty lifted her head up, her lips sticky with cum and cream. “I love to eat you out.”

“If you’re free, big bro, come fuck my pussy.”

“Sure, Antsy.”

I knelt behind her, and there was barely enough room left on the bed. My little sister had a shaved cunt and it was dripping juices. I rubbed my cock along her slit, delighting in the silky-soft feel of her skin.

“Don’t tease me,” Antsy moaned. “Fuck me!” She wiggled her hips. “I need it so bad!”

“You’re such a slut,” Via gasped, kneading her huge breasts as she writhed on my wife’s face.

“You would know,” Antsy fondly replied, then buried her face back into Mary’s tasty snatch as I buried my cock deep into my sister’s cunt.

She was a lot tighter than mom. Mom had a great cunt, but she also had two children. Antsy pumped her hips as I fucked her hard. She moaned her delight into Mary’s pussy. I had a great view of my wife’s lips and tongue as she ate out Via’s shaved pussy. She had her arms wrapped around Via’s thighs, gripping her ass. Via ground her pussy onto Mary’s face, and hefted her heavy, left breast and began sucking on her own nipple.

“That’s hot,” I groaned as Via swirled her tongue around her hard nipple.

“Not as hot as your wife’s tongue in my twat!” Via purred. “She’s driving me wild! I’m gonna flood her lips!”

“Cum on her face,” I urged.

Via shuddered, her huge tits heaving, a soft moan escaping her lips. “Yes!” she hissed and rolled off of Mary, stretching out on her face.

Mary licked her lips and gripped Antsy’s black hair. “Make me cum!” she hissed. “I need it so bad!”

Via rolled onto her stomach and slid her head over and started licking at Mary’s clit as Antsy went lower and began tongue-fucking Mary. Mary’s back arched in pleasure and her eyelids fluttered. “Holy shit!” she gasped. “You fucking sluts are driving me nuts! Oh yes! Lick that clit! Umm, yes, yes! Fucking yes!” Her body went wild with spasms as a massive orgasm rolled through her body.

While I watched Mary’s firm breasts sway as she came, I felt my sister’s cunt clamping down on my cock; her velvety snatch massaged my dick as she came. I pounded harder at my sister, my balls tightening.

I slapped her ass. “What a slutty little sister,” I groaned. “Cumming on your brother’s cock.”

“Hell yeah!” she cooed. “Your cock is amazing, big bro.” She started pumping her hips hard. “Why don’t you hurry up and cum inside my pussy!”

My mom groaned throatily, and I glanced over to see her squeezing her nipples hard as Betty feasted on her pussy. “Oh yes, love! Oh yes! Here it comes!” Mom’s entire body tensed, and Betty glued her lips to my mom’s cunt to catch every tasty drop of her juices.

Mary smiled at my mom. “Good one?”

“Always with Betty,” Mom answered. “She’s the best.”

A loving sigh escaped Betty’s lips as she gazed adoringly up at my mom. “I love you, Sandy.”

Mom caressed her sticky cheeks. “I’m so happy we found each other.” Betty climbed up my mom’s body, dark breasts dragging across pale tits, and ivory and ebony became one as they passionately kissed.

Mary stroked Via’s stomach. “Via, do you still drink piss like I taught you?”

“Umm, I love it,” Via purred.

A smile broke on Mary’s lips. “I remember peeing in your mouth in that bathroom.”

“And on the dance floor,” Via laughed wickedly.

Mary stood up and crooked her finger at her. “Why don’t you come here and have some more?”

Via didn’t need to be told twice. I watched her open her lips wide. A golden stream arched from Mary’s pussy and splashed into Via’s lips. She was a pee slut, and eagerly drank the dirty, golden fluid down. I felt my sister’s cunt spasming on my cock again as a second orgasm rolled through her.

“Love watching you drink pee!” Antsy gasped.

Via smiled, licking her lips clean. “Anyone else need to pee?”

“I do,” Betty giggled.

My mom’s mocha lover stood up and Via knelt before her. Betty was facing away from us, her mocha ass round and firm. Betty sighed as she pissed into Via’s hungry lips. Urine splashed on Via’s chin and ran yellow down her throat and between her huge mounds. The sight was so erotic, my balls exploded suddenly and I filled Antsy’s cunt to the brim with my cum.

Via began licking Betty clean, eagerly pleasuring the Black girl. Antsy pulled out of me, rubbed a finger through her messy snatch, then got off the bed and walked over to her girlfriend. “You made a mess, Via. Let me clean you up.”

I watched my sister lick the pee up the valley of Via’s breasts, up her neck, she kept licking up, reaching Betty’s taint. Then Antsy buried her face between two pillowy, dark cheeks, and tongued Betty’s ass. The mocha-skinned girl threw her head back as she was pleasured from both sides. I laid down on the bed and my mom snuggled up to me and kissed me gently on the lips. Mary slid into bed on the other side and I wrapped my arms around both of them. They kissed each other over my chest and they both rested their faces on my broad shoulders.

“Love you Mare,” I said, kissing her forehead. “And I love you, Mom.” I kissed her forehead as well.

“Love you,” Mary murmured sleepily.

She was asleep, breathing softly, and I held her tightly. We both had a long day, a long weekend. The nap we had earlier wasn’t enough as fatigue suddenly washed through me and my eyes felt so heavy. I closed them and drifted off to sleep with Betty’s moans of pleasure filling my ears.

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

Tuesday, October 1st, 2013 – Noel Heinrich – Philadelphia, PA

“It’s almost dawn, Noel,” Wyatt Kirby said.

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes as he shook my leg. I could not believe I fell asleep. I sat up, stretched, and made sure my sandy-blonde hair was still tied up in a bun. I had to adjust my shoulder-holster, the butt of my gun digging into my side.

“How many arrived?” I asked him.

“Thirty-four,” Wyatt answered. “They’re in the backyard.”

I followed him through his spacious home. He had been my mentor when I went through the FBI Academy at Quantico, and shortly after I graduated he left the FBI and went into the private security business. He had done quite well for himself. When Mark Glassner freed me from his control, I sought him out and told him everything that happened to me.

For the last few months we had quietly talked to those in the law enforcement and intelligence fields who viewed Mark Glassner with growing trepidation. And this weekend all our fears were finally realized. First this Brandon Fitzsimmons dramatically took control of Tacoma and declared himself God, and our President was more than happy to surrender the Country to him. And yesterday, Mark defeated Brandon and was doing the exact same thing.

He had to be stopped.

Standing in clumps around Wyatt’s backyard were tense men and women. In the center a fire roared and a hunk of beef waited to be sacrificed. My stomach fluttered as they all stared at me; flint in their eyes.

“For those who do not know me, I am Special Agent Noel Heinrich, FBI!” I was surprised that my voice didn’t quake with fear. “For two weeks I was Mark Glassner’s slave! The stories about him are true; he can control you with the simplest of commands!”

“How!” someone in the crowd shouted.

“He sold his soul to the Devil,” I answered. I could hear the disbelief in their laughter. “You saw the events of this weekend in Tacoma. Mark Glassner’s feud with Brandon Fitzsimmons has left hundreds of US Citizens dead, while an entire Army Corp has deserted and sworn allegiance to him. Even the President has kowtowed to him without a fight. How else do you think he did this?”

No-one had an answer. I could feel their unease, almost taste it on the predawn air. It tasted bitter.

“Mark Glassner is the greatest threat to Liberty the world has ever known!” I continued. “Thomas Jefferson, who wrote the Declaration of Independence in this very city, said, ‘The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants.’ Our patriotic blood and his tyrannic blood!”

A cheer went up from the crowd.

“How can we fight him?” a woman asked, silencing the cheers. “If he can just make us do what he wants?”

Grins faded, hope died.

I fixed my gaze on each of them, firm and resolute. “The same way our Founding Fathers defeated the might of the British—by using every single thing at our disposal. I know how Mark got his powers! His secret is out on the internet! We just have to have the strength to do what is necessary to defeat him! We have to fight fire with fire!

“We have to make our own Pact with the Devil!”

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 40.

Der Pakt mit dem Teufel Kapitel 5: Das Gespräch

 

 

Der Pakt mit dem Teufel

Kapitel 5: Das Gespräch

Von mypenname3000

Übersetzt von Horem

© Copyright 2013, 2014


Story Codes: Male/Female, Male/Teen female, Male/Female/Teen female, Mind Control, Rimming, Anal, Domination/Submission, Magic, Cuckold, Cheating

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

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 4



Mary und ich verließen Victorias Secret. Wir hatten eben eine sehr angenehme Zeit da drinnen verbracht, nachdem Mary die beiden Verkäuferinnen Aurora und Heather dazu gebracht hatte, mich zu befriedigen, während sie selber und Alison Unterwäsche präsentiert hatten.

Mary trug das rot weiß gestreifte Kleid und eine leichte weiße Bluse. Ihr rotbrauner Pferdeschwanz stellte einen hübschen Kontrast zu dem Weiß ihrer Bluse dar. Hinter uns ging Alison, die unsere Tüten mit den Einkäufen für uns trug. Sie sah in ihrem rosafarbenen T-Shirt sehr nuttig aus. Man konnte deutlich sehen, dass sie keinen BH anhatte und dass ihre Nippel gepierct waren. Sie war eine geile 17 Jahre alte Schlampe.

„Wo gehen wir als nächstes hin, Mare“ fragte ich. Das hier war schließlich Marys Einkaufstour, und ich war eigentlich nur da, um sie herum zu fahren oder zu führen.

„Ich will ja nichts sagen, Mark“, sagte Mary. „Aber du könntest auch ein paar neue Sachen vertragen. Das hier…“ Sie griff nach meinem Hemd, „…ist ein bisschen ausgeleiert.“

„Ich glaube, du hast recht“, sagte ich. Das war nur fair. Ich hatte heute Morgen das Gleiche über ihr Starbucks T-Shirt gesagt.

Und so wurde ich im nächsten Laden von Mary mit einem ganzen Bündel Jeans und Hemden in einen Umkleideraum geschoben. Sie hatte mir detaillierte Anweisungen gegeben, was ich anziehen sollte. Ich zog ein paar der Hosen an, bis ich eine fand, die mir passte. Dann zog ich mir ein weißes T-Shirt an, schob es in die Hose und zog ich ein rot und schwarz gemustertes Hemd über das Shirt. Ich ließ es entsprechend Marys Anweisungen offen. Ich schaute in den Spiegel und ich fand, dass ich ganz okay aussah. Normalerweise trug ich immer nur die beigefarbene Hose, die ich in meinem Job brauchte, weil ich zu geizig war, mir eine zweite Hose zu kaufen. Und was Hemden angeht, so deckte ich meinen Bedarf immer bei Walmart.

Ich verließ den Umkleideraum und wurde von Mary und Alison empfangen. Alison hatte meinen Camcorder und sie filmte mich. Ich fühlte mich ziemlich selbstbewusst, während Mary und Alison mich eingehend beäugten. Ich schluckte und wartete auf Marys Reaktion. Sie sah mich kritisch an und biss sich auf die Unterlippe. Warum brauchte sie so lange, bis sie etwas sagte? Sah das doch nicht so gut aus? Scheiße, ich wünschte mir, dass sie endlich etwas sagte.

„Du siehst gut aus“, sagte Mary schließlich.

„Absolut“, bestätigte jetzt auch Alison. „Der Meister ist sehr attraktiv.“ Ich wurde rot und war gleichzeitig erleichtert und verlegen, als Mary und Alison durch die Zähne pfiffen, während ich mich vor ihnen präsentierte.

„Hübscher Arsch!“ sagte Mary kehlig und dann gab sie mir einen Klaps. „Fohlen!“ rief ich und hüpfte. Ich drehte mich schnell um, um Mary zu packen. Sie tanzte grazil weg, während ich versuchte, sie zu erwischen.

Mary streckte mir die Zunge heraus und rannte weg. Ich folgte ihr. Mary war jetzt um die Kleiderständer herum gelaufen und kam wieder in Richtung auf die Umkleideräume. Ich schnitt ihr den Weg ab und trieb sie damit in den kleinen Flur zu den Umkleideräumen. Mary ging rückwärts, als ich mich ihr näherte. Sie hatte ein verdorbenes kleines Lächeln auf ihren Lippen. Sie wich immer weiter zurück, bis sie schließlich an die Tür am Ende des Flur stieß. Ich grinste. Meine Beute hatte keinen Ausweg mehr. Ich erhob mich über sie und genoss den Anblick ihres Busens, der sich erregt hob und senkte. Ihre Augen glänzten vor Lust, als ich mich vorbeugte und ihre roten Lippen mit meinen einfing.

„Du warst unartig!“ flüsterte ich nach dem Kuss. Ich griff durch ihre Bluse an ihre Brust. „Zeit für deine Strafe!“

Mary grinste verdorben und griff hinter sich, um die Tür zum Umkleideraum zu öffnen. Wir fielen beinahe hinein. Dann schlugen wir die Tür zu. „Schlampe!“ rief Mary. „Sorg dafür, dass wir nicht gestört werden!“

„Ja, Herrin“, antwortete Alison.

Ich drückte Mary mit dem Gesicht nach vorne gegen eine Wand und zog ihr Kleid über den Arsch nach oben. Sie hatte ein Höschen aus dünner weißer Spitze an, das gar nichts tat, um das Fleisch darunter zu verbergen. Ich zog es herunter und schlug auf ihre rechte Arschbacke. „Du bist ein böses Fohlen gewesen!“ Der zweite Schlag war fest und laut und hinterließ einen roten Handabdruck auf ihrer weißen Arschbacke.

„Was ist da hinten los?“ wollte eine männliche Stimme wissen.

„Nichts“, sagte Alison mit ihrer Schlafzimmerstimme. „Hi, ich heiße Alison.“

Ich schlug Mary ein drittes Mal fest auf ihren Hintern und sie schrie auf. „Klingt aber nicht nach nichts“, sagte der Mann. „Kommen Sie da raus!“

Alison kicherte und schnurrte: „Du hast so wunderbar breite Schultern. Machst du Krafttraining? Ich liebe Männer mit Muskeln.“

Ich machte meinen Reißverschluss auf und schlug Marys Arsch mehrfach mit meinem harten Schwanz. „Uhhhh! Du fühlst dich so hart an!“ stöhnte Mary.

„Kommen Sie da sofort raus!“ befahl der Mann. „Moment, was machen Sie denn da?“

„Deine Muskeln sind so hart“, schnurrte Alison.

„Miss, bitte lassen Sie das“, sagte der Mann, als mein harter Schwanz Marys nasse Fotze fand. Ich glitt in sie hinein und fickte sie langsam.

„Magst du mein Shirt?“ fragte Alison. „Das ist ein ganz toller Stoff. Fühl mal, wie weich der ist.“

„Was? Scheiße!“ keuchte der Mann panisch. „Ich… verdammt…“

„Schön weich, nicht wahr?“ schnurrte Alison.

Ich hörte Kleidung rascheln und dann keuchte der Mann laut. Mit erstickter Stimme sagte er dann: „Miss, Sie sollten ihr Shirt wieder anziehen!“

„Gefallen dir meine Piercings?“ fragte Alison. „Ist schon okay, du darfst sie anfassen.“

„Oh Gott“, sagte der Mann. „Verdammt, das ist gut!“

Ich zog meinen Schwanz aus Marys Fotze heraus. „Oh bitte, nicht aufhören!“ stöhnte sie.

„Du musst noch mehr bestraft werden“, sagte ich.

Ich bewegte meinen Schwanz in ihrer Arschkerbe nach oben und fand die Rosenknospe ihres Arschlochs. „Ohhh!“ stöhnte Mary. „Fick mich in den Arsch! Das wird mir eine Lehre sein!“

Mein Schwanz, der wegen ihrer Mösensäfte sehr glitschig war, rutschte durch ihren engen Schließmuskel und in die seidige Enge ihres Arsches. Mary stöhnte vor Schmerz und Lust auf. Sie drückte mir ihren Arsch entgegen und zwang damit meinen Schwanz tiefer in ihre Eingeweide. Eine meiner Hände glitt unter ihre Bluse und griff nach einer kleinen Brust und nach dem harten Nippel, während meine andere nach unten rutschte und eine nasse Fotze und einen pochenden Kitzler fand. Ich hielt Mary fest und fickte ihren Arsch hart und sie stöhnte laut.

„Willst du mein Tattoo sehen?“ fragte Alison draußen auf dem Flur.

„Wow!“ machte der Typ.

„Das ist eine Einladung“, keuchte Alison. Sie musste ihren Rock angehoben haben, während sie das sagte.

„Das geht nicht“, keuchte der Mann.

„Natürlich geht das“, sagte Alison. „Muschis sind dafür da, dass Schwänze darin kommen!“

„Scheiße“, sagte der Mann. Eine Tür öffnete sich und ein Pärchen ging in einen zweiten Umkleideraum. Jemand rumste gegen die Wand.

Es gab ein nasses schlürfendes Geräusch und Alison schnurrte: „Du bist so groß!“

„Bin ich auch groß?“ fragte ich Mary, während ich ihren Arsch fickte.

„Ach“, sagte sie und zuckte mit den Schultern. Ich schlug ihr auf den Arsch und sie kicherte. „Du bist mein Hengst!“ stöhnte sie. „Und du fühlst dich in meinem Arsch gerade sehr groß an!“

Ich küsste Marys Hals und genoss ihren engen heißen Arsch, während ich sie fickte. Durch die dünne Wand des Umkleideraumes hörten wir Alison stöhnen und keuchen, während der Fremde sie fickte. Mary wackelte mit den Hüften und fickte mir ihren Arsch entgegen. Mary dreht ihren Kopf und ich küsste ihre Lippen. Ich drückte sie gegen die Wand und genoss ihren Arsch auf meinem Schwanz.

„Oh verdammt“, stöhnte der Mann. „Du bist so eng, ich komme gleich!“

„Nein, nicht rausziehen!“ protestierte Alison.

„Ich will nicht in dich reinspritzen.“

„Hast du das Tattoo nicht gelesen?“ fragte Alison mit einer total verdorbenen Stimme. „Ja! Das ist gut! Fick mich ruhig richtig hart durch!“ stöhnte Alison laut. „Oh, dein Saft ist so heiß und so tief in mir drin! Mann, bist du ein Stecher!“

„Danke“, murmelte der Mann. Die Tür öffnete sich wieder und schwere Schritte entfernten sich.

Alison kicherte. „Hab ich das gut gemacht?“ fragte sie durch die Wand.

„Toll, Schlampe!“ stöhnte Mary. Dann zischte sie mir zu: „Kneif mir in den Kitzler! Ja, genau so! Ahhhhhh!“

Ihr Arsch zog sich auf meinem Schwanz zusammen, als ihr Körper in meiner Umarmung erzitterte. Ich fickte meinen Schwanz noch ein paarmal in sie hinein und dann entleerte ich meine Eier in ihren Eingeweiden. Ich hielt meine süße Mary fest und atmete ihr ins Ohr. Dann zog ich meinen Schwanz aus ihrem Arsch. Weißes Sperma sickerte aus ihrem braunen Arschloch, lief ihr in die Spalte und dann weiter an ihren Beinen herunter. „Schlampe!“ rief ich. „Komm hierher!“

Alison riss die Tür auf und kam ohne Oberteil herein. Ihre großen Brüste schwangen hin und her, als sie sich bewegte. An ihren Beinen lief das Sperma des Fremden herunter. Alison sah meinen verschmutzten Schwanz und mein Sperma an Marys Arsch und sie wusste gleich, was sie tun musste. Sie kniete sich hin und leckte zunächst meinen Schwanz ab. Als sie damit fertig war, fing sie an, mein Sperma aus Marys Arsch heraus zu lutschen.

Es war so geil zu sehen, wie meine Schlampe mein Sperma aus dem Arsch meiner Freundin leckte, dass mein Schwanz schon wieder hart wurde. Als sie fertig war, drehte ich ihren Kopf zu mir und fickte sie heftig in den Mund. Sie würgte ein wenig, als ich ihr meinen Schwanz bis in den Rachen schob. Mary lächelte und zog ihre Bluse und ihr Kleid wieder zurecht. Dann hielt sie Alisons Kopf fest und half mir so, ihr Gesicht zu ficken. Ich kam tief in ihrem Hals und Alison würgte wieder.

Als ich meinen Schwanz aus ihrem Mund heraus zog, liefen ihr Speichel und Sperma über das Kinn. Sie lächelte zu mir hoch und schnurrte: „Danke, Meister, dass ich dein leckeres Sperma haben durfte.“ Sie war eine gute Schlampe und ich tätschelte ihren Kopf. Ich lächelte zu ihr hinunter.

Nachdem Mary jetzt meine Größe kannte, suchte sie noch ein paar mehr Sachen für mich aus, dann sagte sie mir, ich sollte mir ein paar Unterhosen kaufen. Damit verband sie wohl Kritik an meiner jetzigen weißen Unterwäsche. Ich fand ein paar neue Boxershorts und traf sie an der Kasse wieder. Ich wies den Verkäufer an, uns die Sachen gratis zu überlassen. Alison, der immer noch der Saft des Fremden an den Beinen herunter lief, hatte jetzt Schwierigkeiten, all die Tüten zu tragen, also suchte ich uns einen Jungen aus, den ich in unseren Dienst stellte.

„Bath und Beauty Works sollte unser letzter Halt sein“, sagte Mary. „Alison und ich brauchen unsere Beauty-Sachen.“

„Natürlich“, nickte ich. „Ich werde dann zum Gamestop gehen.“

Mary nickte. „Okay, Baby. Wir treffen uns hier in zwanzig Minuten wieder..“ Ich nickte und gab Mary etwas von dem Geld, das ich der prüden Bitch vorher abgenommen hatte. Sie gab mir einen schnellen Kuss und führte Alison und unseren jugendlichen Packesel weiter.

Ich ging allerdings nicht zum Gamestop. Ich suchte einen Juwelier auf. Vielleicht war es verrückt, aber ich liebte Mary. Obwohl ich sie noch nicht einmal einen ganzen Tag kannte, wusste ich, dass ich den Rest meines Lebens mit ihr verbringen wollte. Die Angestellte war mittelalt und hieß Patricia. Sie trug eine Brille mit Horngestell, hatte ein spitzes Gesicht und eine Hakennase. Sie lächelte glücklich, als ich ihr erzählte, dass ich einen Verlobungsring kaufen wollte. Sie zeigte mir eine große Auswahl. Es waren so viele, dass ich geradezu überwältigt war.

„Was mag ihre Freundin denn?“ fragte Patricia. „Welche Art von Schmuck trägt sie denn sonst?“

„Ich bin mir nicht sicher“, sagte ich und schaute all die Ringe an. „Wir sind noch nicht so lange zusammen.“

„Ahhh“, sagte Patricia. „Als ich siebzehn war, wurde ich von diesem zwanzig Jahre alten Seemann von den Füßen gerissen. Ich nahm an, dass er derjenige ist.“

„Und was ist dann passiert?“ fragte ich.

„Ich kriegte einen Tripper“, sagte sie. „Es stellte sich heraus, dass ich nicht das einzige Mädchen war, mit dem er sich traf. Sie sollten also vielleicht nicht so schnell machen.“

Ich schüttelte den Kopf. „Nein, ich bin sicher, dass sie die eine ist.“

„Okay, Söhnchen“, sagte sie. „Wie wäre es denn mit dem hier?“

Ein Ring fesselte mich. Patricia bemerkte meinen Blick und nahm einen Ring aus der Auslage. Er war aus Weißgold und hatte einen großen schwarzen Diamanten, der von vielen kleinen weißen umgeben war. Es war nicht der teuerste Ring, aber ich fand ihn am schönsten.

„Ist es der, Söhnchen?“ fragte Patricia.

„Genau!“, sagte ich. Also verpackte Patricia ihn in einer schwarzen Schachtel. Ich beschloss, nach ein paar weiteren Sachen für Mary zu schauen. Ich fand ein herzförmiges Medaillon aus Silber mit einer pinkfarbenen Rose auf der Vorderseite. Dann war da noch ein Armband aus lauter Xs und Os, in die kleine Herzen eingraviert waren. Außerdem nahm ich ein paar goldene Ohrringe mit Amethysten. Patricia war eine so nette Dame, dass ich sie nicht in Schwierigkeiten bringen wollte, dass sie mich den Schmuck hatte stehlen lassen. Ich ließ sie in das Hinterzimmer gehen und sie sah verletzt aus, als ich sie dort fesselte. Ich würde aber in jedem Fall dafür sorgen, dass sie schnell gefunden würde.

Mit dem Schmuck in der Hand wanderte ich zum Gamestop hinüber. Leider gingen keine geilen, wunderschönen, süße oder auch nur mittelattraktive Frauen in den Laden. Also schaute ich mir wirklich nur die Spiele an. Schließlich nahm ich einen Nintendo 3DS mit, um meinen alten DS zu ersetzen und ein paar Spiele. Endlich kamen Mary und Alison wieder zurück. Sie hatten außer den Taschen von Bath und Beauty Works auch noch solche von Target bei sich, das erklärte die zehnminütige Verspätung. „Nur ein paar Toilettartikel“, erklärte sie mit einem Lächeln. Wer konnte ihr bei so einem Lächeln böse sein?

„Noch sonst irgendwas?“ fragte ich.

Mary dachte eine Minute nach. „Nein, ich glaube, das ist alles für heute.“ Sie sah die Tüte von dem Juwelier und bekam große Augen. Ich grinste und gab ihr die Tüte. Die Schachtel mit dem Ring hatte ich in meine Hosentasche gesteckt.

Mary und Alison schnurrten beide vor Erregung, als sie die Schachteln mit dem Schmuck aufmachten und Mary legte sofort das Medaillon und das Armband an. Dann tauschte sie ihre silbernen Ohrstecker gegen die goldenen mit den Amethysten aus. Sie fiel mir um den Hals und drückte mich. Dann küsste sie mich fest auf meine Lippen. „Oh, sind die schön!“ sagte sie mit Tränen in den Augen. „Danke, danke!“ Bei jedem „Danke“ bekam ich einen weiteren Kuss. „Ich liebe dich!“

„Schön, dass dir die Sachen gefallen“, sagte ich, als sie sich wieder beruhigt hatte.

Arm in Arm wanderten wir durch die Mall. Auf dem Weg nach draußen bemerkte ich einen bodenlangen Mantel in einem Schaufenster. Ich hatte so einen Mantel immer schon haben wollen, schon seit ich meinen ersten Spaghetti-Western gesehen hatte. Mary lachte laut, als ich eine Minute später mit dem Mantel aus dem Laden kam und den Mantel trug. Mir machte das nichts aus, ich trug den Mantel stolz. Ich legte ihr den Arm um die Schulter und wir verließen die Mall.

Nachdem wir ein paar Minuten über den Parkplatz gegangen waren, fanden wir meinen silbernen Mustang. Alison und der Junge legten alle Tüten in den Kofferraum und ich sagte dem Jungen, dass er jetzt in das Schmuckgeschäft gehen sollte, damit er Patricia fand. Während er wegging, stiegen wir alle drei in das Auto. Alison quetschte sich auf den Rücksitz.

„Wenn du dir ein Auto unter allen Autos auf dieser Welt aussuchen könntest, Mary, was für ein Auto würdest du wählen?“ fragte ich, während die Maschine des Mustang zum Leben erwachte.

Sie zuckte die Schultern. „Keine Ahnung. Wahrscheinlich einen Volkswagen.“

„Einen Volkswagen?“ Meine Antwort wäre anders ausgefallen.

„Ja, ich finde, die bauen richtig nette Autos.“

Ich lachte und verließ den Parkplatz, um einen VW-Händler zu suchen. Ich fuhr auf den Highway 512 und brachte den Mustang auf 100 Meilen pro Stunde auf dem Weg in das Tal, bevor ich langsamer werden musste, damit ich die Kurven schaffte. Ich fuhr dann auf die River Road auf der anderen Seite von Puyallup, wo es alle Automarken der Welt zu kaufen gibt. Dort fand ich dann auch einen Volkswagen-Händler.

Wir steigen aus und Mary fing an, durch den Showroom zu gehen entlang an all den Beetles und Jettas, Golfs und Tiguans. Immer wieder rief isi, wie gut sie ihr gefielen. Ich fragte mich, was zum Teufel eigentlich ein Tiguan war. Konnte das eine Eidechse sein? Ich schaute auf den Camcorder und bemerkte, dass die Speicherkarte beinahe voll war. Also öffnete ich den Kofferraum und tauschte die Speicherkarte aus. Dann machte ich mich auf die Suche nach einer attraktiven Frau.

„Kann ich Ihnen helfen?“ fragte ein netter junger Mann in einem blau-weiß-gestreiften Hemd. Er war glatt rasiert und freundlich und reichte mir die Hand.

„Ja, meine Freundin Mary hier ist auf der Suche nach einem neuen Auto“, sagte ich zu Frank, nachdem ich seinen Namen auf seinem Namensschild gelesen hatte. „Helfen Sie ihr doch bitte bei der Auswahl.“

„Okay“, sagte er freundlich. „Was für eine Art von Auto suchen Sie denn, Mary?“

„Irgendwas Süßes“, sagte Mary, als sie von Frank weggeführt wurde. „Und sportlich sollte er auch sein.“

Ich wollte ihnen schon folgen, als ich diese hinreißende sandblonde Frau Mitte Zwanzig mit dem roten Sommerkleid sah. Das Kleid wurde von zwei dünnen Schulterträgern gehalten, die das meiste ihrer Schultern frei ließen. Das Kleid war ziemlich tief ausgeschnitten und die Frau trug einen Pushup-BH, sie hatte ein wunderschönes Dekolletee. Die Frau hatte einen Mann bei sich, wahrscheinlich ihren Ehemann, der seine Hand auf ihrer Hüfte liegen hatte, während die beiden sich über einen silbernen Passat unterhielten.

Ich hielt Alison fest, damit sie nicht hinter Mary und dem Verkäufer herging. „Schlampe“, sagte ich leise. „Ich werde die Frau von dem Mann da zur Toilette führen und sie dort ficken. Du kümmerst dich bitte um den Ehemann.“

Alison grinste und schaute sich den Mann an. Er war einigermaßen attraktiv, hatte breite Schultern und kantige Gesichtszüge. „So wie ich den Mann in dem Bekleidungsgeschäft abgelenkt habe?“

Ich lächelte sie an. „Du kannst machen, was du möchtest“, sagte ich ihr. Alison nickte und leckte sich gierig die Lippen.

Alison und ich gingen diskret zu dem Pärchen hinüber und ich wartete auf meine Gelegenheit. Nach einer Minute trennten sich die beiden. Ich ging zu der Frau und flüsterte: „Sag deinem Mann, dass du zur Toilette musst und warte dann dort nackt auf mich.“

Die Frau schaute mich fragend an und sagte dann mit einem erstaunten Gesichtsausdruck: „Eric, ich gehe mal eben zur Toilette.“

„Ist in Ordnung, Beth“, sagte er und fing an, die technische Beschreibung des Autos zu studieren, die in der Windschutzscheibe des Passats hing. Beth machte sich auf den Weg zu den Toiletten. Ihr hübscher Arsch wackelte unter ihren roten Kleid provokativ hin und her. Ich wartete, bis Alison sich dem Mann genähert hatte und anfing, mit ihm zu flirten. Dann folgte ich Beth zu den Toiletten.

Niemand war in der Nähe und ich schlüpfte unbemerkt in die Damentoilette. Drinnen wartete Beth auf mich. Sie war nackt und hielt sich schüchtern eine Hand vor die Muschi. Blondes Schamhaar schaute zwischen ihren Fingern hervor. Der andere Arm versuchte vergeblich, ihre großen runden Brüste zu verbergen. Ihr Gesicht war vor Verlegenheit gerötet. Ich filmte sie. Die Tür fiel ins Schloss und es klickte.

„Was haben Sie mit mir vor?“ stammelte sie.

„Keine Angst“, sagte ich und sofort wurde sie ruhig. „Ich werde dich ficken und du wirst es genießen.“

Beth ließ ihre Arme fallen und sie streckte sich. Ein heißblütiges Lächeln erschien auf ihrem Gesicht. Ihre Nippel versteiften sich. Sie hatte sehr große Brustwarzen. Ihre Muschi war mit feinem blonden Haar bedeckt. Ich stellte den Camcorder auf einen Sims und richtete ihn so aus, dass er hoffentlich die Aktionen aufnehmen konnte. Dann ging ich zu ihr und drückte sie mit dem Rücken gegen die geflieste Wand. Ich fischte meinen Schwanz aus meiner Hose. Sie keuchte vor Erwartung und sie leckte sich über die Lippen. Ich rieb meinen Schwanz an ihren nassen Schamlippen und stieß ihn ihr anschließend ganz hinein.

„Oh verdammt!““ stöhnte sie. „Das ist gut!“ Ihre Arme schlangen sich um mich und ein Bein kam hoch um meine Hüfte herum. Ich nahm es in die Hand und hielt es fest. So kam ich noch tiefer in ihre nasse Fotze hinein. Ich fing an, sie schnell zu ficken. Alison würde ihren Mann sicher nicht ewig ablenken können und dann würde er sich fragen, wo seine Frau so lange blieb.

„Gott, du fühlst dich gut an“, stöhnte ich und küsste ihren Hals. Ihre Fotze umschloss meinen Schwanz wie Seide.

„Verdammt, du bist groß!“ keuchte sie. „Und du dehnst mich so toll aus! Fester! Fester!“ Ihre Worte klangen in der Toilette wider. Es gab schmatzende Geräusche, während mein Schwanz sich immer wieder tief in ihre Fotze bohrte, und mein Unterbauch klatschte immer wieder gegen ihre Muschi. „Oh ja, oh ja!“ stöhnte sie immer wieder. Ihre Fotze zog sich auf meinem Schwanz zusammen, als es ihr kam und sie zuckte in meinen Armen. Ich fickte sie hart weiter.

Dann klopfte es an der Tür und wir erstarrten beide. „Beth, bist du da drin?“

Verdammt, es war ihr Mann. Ich fickte Beth jetzt langsamer und sie stöhnte: „Ja, es geht mir gerade nicht so gut. Ich bin aber gleich wieder da.“

„Soll ich reinkommen?“ fragte er.

„N-nein“, keuchte sie und ihre Fotze zog sich auf meinem Schwanz zusammen. Sie zuckte in meinen Armen. Ich beugte mich vor und saugte einen ihrer harten Nippel in den Mund. „Das geht nicht, das ist doch die Damentoilette.“

„Okay, ich warte hier draußen auf dich, Beth.“

„O-okay!“

Gott, es war erregend, eine Frau direkt unter der Nase ihres Mannes zu ficken. Ich fickte sie jetzt ganz langsam und zog mich kaum zurück, bevor ich wieder eindrang. Beth stöhnte leise und ihre Fotze drückte meinen Schwanz. Offensichtlich war sie auch besonders erregt. Sie presste ihre Lippen zusammen und versuchte, nicht zu schreien. „Du kommst gleich wieder auf meinem Schwanz“, flüsterte ich ihr ins Ohr. „Und dein Mann steht direkt vor der Tür!“

„Ja“, flüsterte sie heiser. „Fick mich mit deinem großen dicken Schwanz!“

Ich saugte an ihrer Titte und hinterließ kleine Bissmarken. Sie keuchte vor Lust und zuckte in meinen Armen, als ein zweiter Orgasmus sie packte. Ihre Fotze klammerte meinen Schwanz ganz fest und sie bewegte sich rhythmisch. Sie presste sich eine Hand vor den Mund, um nicht zu schreien. Mein eigener Orgasmus kündigte sich auch an. Er baute sich in meinen Eiern auf. Ich küsste ihren Mund, schmeckte ihre Zunge und fickte einmal, zweimal, dreimal sehr hart, und dann spritzte ich ihr mein Sperma in ihren Bauch.

Ich lehnte mich einen Moment gegen sie, dann zog ich meinen Schwanz aus ihrer Möse und stolperte zurück. „Zieh dich an“, sagte ich ihr leise. „Du machst deine Muschi bis heute Abend nicht sauber. Du läufst den ganzen Tag mir meinem Sperma in dir herum und denkst immer daran, wie toll dieser Fick war. Du erzählst deinem Mann nie etwas davon, was gerade hier passiert ist. Und du fühlst dich nicht schuldig. Denk einfach an mich, wenn du den Schwanz von deinem Mann in dir fühlst.“

Sie nickte, nahm sich ihr beigefarbenes Höschen und zog es an. Sie kam zu mir und küsste mich. „Danke“, flüsterte sie. „So hart bin ich seit Jahren nicht gekommen.“ Dann fand sie ihre restlichen Sachen und zog sich an.

Ich ging in eines der Abteile, als Beth die Tür öffnete und dann die Toilette verließ. Ich hörte ihren Mann fragen: „Alles okay, Beth? Du warst eine ganz schön lange Zeit da drin.“

„Äh, ich habe mich nicht recht wohl gefühlt“, antwortete Beth.

„Das sehe ich“, sagte der Mann. „Du siehst ein bisschen mitgenommen aus. Möchtest du, dass wir gehen? Wir können auch noch ein anderes Mal nach einem neuen Auto schauen.“

„Nein, nein. Es geht mir schon wieder viel besser“, sagte sie. Die Stimmen entfernten sich.

Ich wollte eine weitere Minute warten, bevor ich auch die Toilette verließ, als Alison plötzlich hereinplatzte. Sie lächelte. „Hast du sie gut gefickt, Meister?“ fragte sie erregt.

„In der Tat“, sagte ich. „Wieso hast du ihn nicht abgelenkt?“

„Es tut mir leid, Meister“, sagte Alison mit niedergeschlagenen Augen. „“Ich habe ihn angeflirtet und meine Brust herausgestreckt, aber er war überhaupt nicht interessiert.“

„Vielleicht ist er ja schwul“, schmunzelte ich. „Seine Frau ist jedenfalls schon seit einer ganzen Zeit nicht mehr gefickt worden.

Alison nickte. Dann sah sie meinen klebrigen Schwanz. Sie wusste, was sie tun musste und fiel auf ihre Knie. Sie lutschte meinen mit Mösensaft bedeckten Schwanz in ihren Mund und lutschte glücklich. Ich schloss meine Augen und genoss den heißen kleinen Mund meiner Schlampe und die Art, wie der Stecker in ihrer Zunge um meinen Schwanz herum glitt. Die Tür öffnete sich und eine Frau keuchte. „Scheiße! Komm rein!“ ordnete ich an.

Die Frau gehörte zum Verkaufspersonal. Sie kam schnell in die Toilette herein. Sie starrte mit großen Augen auf Alison, die mir einen Blowjob gab. Iris, so las ich auf ihrem Namensschild keuchte: „Das können Sie doch hier nicht machen!“ Sie war eine attraktive Frau Ende Dreißig. Sie war fit und sportlich. Ihr schwarzes Haar war lang und wurde von einem roten Bändchen gehalten. Sie trug einen hellblauen Businessrock und eine Bluse. Auf ihrer Nase hatte sie eine dunkel eingefasste Brille.

Ich lächelte zu Alison hinunter. „Du bist heute eine gute Schlampe gewesen“, sagte ich ihr. „Ich denke, dass du eine Belohnung verdient hast. Zeih dich aus und spreize deine Beine.“ Alison pellte sich aus ihren T-.Shirt und ließ innerhalb von Sekunden ihren Rock fallen. Dann war sie auf dem Rücken und zeigte ihre nackte Möse, die immer noch von dem trocknenden Sperma des Mannes bedeckt war, den sie zuletzt in der Mall gefickt hatte. Iris war sprachlos und schaute auf die Fotze. „Iris, schließe die Tür ab und kümmere dich um Alisons Fotze. Sorg dafür, dass es dieser Schlampe auf deiner Zunge kommt.“

Iris verschloss mit zitternden Händen die Tür, kniete sich dann hin und bewegte sich auf Alison zu. Alison bewegte sich vor erwartungsvoller Erregung, als Iris heftig atmend nur Zentimeter vor ihrer Muschi anhielt. Dann schloss sie die Augen und ließ sich von der Zunge des Mädchens die verklebte Möse auslecken. Alison seufzte und ihre Hüften zuckten, wenn Iris ihren Kitzler mit ihrer Zunge berührte. Ich nahm den Camcorder und gab ihn Alison. Die Frau leckte langsam an ihrem Schlitz auf und ab. Langsam entspannte sie sich und sie wurde aggressiver. Sie steckte Alison sogar zwei Finger in die Fotze.

„Ich werde dich jetzt ficken, Iris“, sagte ich. Dann kniete ich mich hinter sie. Ich rollte ihren Rock hoch und legte gut geformte Beine frei und eine Strumpfhose über einem Höschen. Ich zerriss ihre Strumpfhose und schob dann ihr Höschen zur Seite. Ich sah eine rasierte Muschi mit schönen dicken Schamlippen und einem harten Kitzler. Iris stöhnte in Alisons Fotze, als ich meinen Schwanz an ihrem Schlitz rieb und dann an ihrem Kitzler und ihn schließlich in ihr Loch stieß.

Es wurde nie langweilig, egal wie viele Fotzen ich auch fickte. Sie fühlten sich alle warm und nass und wundervoll an meinem Schwanz an. Ich fickte sie fest und tief, griff nach ihren Hüften und drückte ihr Gesicht in Alisons Fotze. Alison stöhnte und richtete den Camcorder nach unten auf ihren Körper. Ihre gepiercten Titten schwangen jedes Mal, wenn ich Iris Gesicht in ihre Fotze stieß.

Alison keuchte lauter. „Oh Meister, ich danke dir!“ stöhnte sie. „Ihre Zunge fühlt sich toll an!“ Ihre Titten hoben und senkten sich. „Ohhhh! Gleich kommt es mir! Oh verdammt, lutsch meinen Kitzler weiter, mach weiter so! Ohhhh Scheiße!“ Alison wand sich auf dem Boden, dann kollabierte sie und atmete tief. „Das war toll!“

„Wenn es einer Schlampe kommt, dann dankt sie der Person, die dafür verantwortlich ist“, sagte ich streng.

„Oh, danke dir Iris“, sagte sie atemlos. „Deine Zunge und deine Finger haben sich so toll angefühlt. Danke, dass du es dieser Schlampe ordentlich besorgt hast.“

Ich zog mich aus Iris heraus und wichste über Alison. Ich spritzte ihr mein Sperma über das Gesicht und über ihre Titten und den Bauch. Alison lächelte glücklich. Ohne nachzudenken fing sie an, das Sperma mit einem Finger aufzunehmen. „Nein!“, sagte ich. „Trag mein Sperma. Lass alle sehen, was du für eine Schlampe bist. Du kannst dich anziehen.“

„Oh danke,. Meister“, sprudelte Alison, als sie sie sich anzog. „Ich bin ein solche Schlampe!“ Ihr Shirt verschmierte mein Sperma auf ihrem Gesicht, als sie es sich über den Kopf zog, und mein Sperma auf ihrer Brust drang durch den Stoff nach außen und war sichtbar. Sie zog ihren Rock hoch und sah jetzt völlig versaut aus. Sie folgte mir aus der Toilette heraus. Wir ließen eine stöhnende Iris auf dem Boden liegen, die gerade heftig masturbierte. Sie musste kurz davor gewesen sein, auch zu kommen, als ich meinen Schwanz aus ihr heraus gezogen hatte.

Mary kam gerade von einer Probefahrt zurück, als wir wieder vorne ankamen. Sie hatte ein sportlich aussehendes Cabrio getestet. Nach meinem Geschmack war es ein wenig zu kastenförmig, um wirklich als Sportwagen durchzugehen, es hatte nicht die erregenden Kurven, die ich bevorzugte. Sie drückte mich und schaute dann Alison an, die mit meinem Sperma bedeckt war. Sie hob eine Augenbraue.

„Dieses Auto?“ fragte ich.

„Oh ja“, antwortete Mary. „Das ist ein Eos. Ich finde den total süß!“

Ich fand das nicht, also log ich: „Das ist er wirklich.“

Frank schaute Alison fragend an. Er wusste nicht so recht, was er mit dem mit Sperma bedeckten Teenager anfangen sollte. „Schlampe“, bellte Mary, „warte im Mustang.“

„Ja, Herrin“, sagte Alison und ging weg.

„Kümmern Sie sich nicht um sie“, sagte Mary. „Sie wechselt sehr häufig ihre Partner. Kaum dreht man sich mal um, fickt sie schon einen Kerl.“

„Nun, dann wollen wir mal den Papierkrieg erledigen“, sagte ich zu dem Verkäufer.

„J-ja, natürlich“, stammelte Frank. Er führte uns in die Büros der Verkäufer und an seinen Schreibtisch. Inklusive Steuern und Gebühren war der Gesamtpreis 38.000 Dollar. Ich bot ihm einen Dollar als Anzahlung und den Rest des Geldes in einer Woche an. Frank stimmte zu und wir einigten uns darauf, dass eine Überprüfung meiner Kreditwürdigkeit nicht nötig war. Es war nicht sonderlich überraschend, dass der Finanzvorstand Boris, ein schmaler Russe mit einer langen Narbe im Gesicht, mit dieser Lösung ein Problem hatte. Nachdem er mit mir gesprochen hatte, unterschrieb er den Vertrag allerdings gerne.

Nachdem Mary und ich gefühlte 100 Dokumente unterschrieben hatten, bekamen wir den Schlüssel zu Marys neuem Eos. Ich vergewisserte mich noch, ob Alison einen Wagen mit einem Schaltgetriebe fahren konnte, dann sagte ich ihr, dass sie uns im Mustang hinterher fahren sollte. Ich hatte eine Idee, wo wir einige Zeit bleiben konnten, denn ich wollte den beiden mein Appartement nicht zumuten und wies Mary an, nach Downtown Puyallup zu fahren, dann nach Osten auf der Pioneer und anschließend nach Süden auf der Shaw Road.

Während Mary fuhr, spürte ich den Verlobungsring in meiner Tasche und ich überlegte, wie und wo ich ihr meinen Antrag machen sollte. Es sollte ganz besonders und romantisch sein. „Mary“, fragte ich, als wir durch Puyallup fuhren, „gibt es irgendwas am Puget Sound, das du schon immer mal tun wolltest?“ Ich hoffte, dass das nicht zu offensichtlich klang.

Mary biss sich auf die Unterlippe, während sie nachdachte. Das gehörte zu den süßen Eigenschaften, die sie hatte. „Ich würde gerne die Orcas sehen.“

Ich runzelte die Stirn. „Orcas? Aber die leben doch im Ozean.“

Sie lachte. „Es gibt einige Schulen, die im Sound leben“, sagte sie. Sie erweckte den Anschein, als könne sie gar nicht glauben, dass ihr Freund so dumm war.

„Okay“, antwortete ich. „Dann fahr mal zu einem Pier oder so etwas.“

„Nein, es gibt Schiffe, die da Touren machen“, sagte sie. Meine Freundin Daisy hat mal eine mit ihrem Freund gemacht. Sie hat gesagt, dass das sehr romantisch war. Und dass die Orcas einfach wunderschön waren.“ Romantisch? Ich war mir nicht so sicher, was daran romantisch ist, große Fische im Ozean zu sehen, aber Mary war ganz hingerissen.

„Und was ist mit dir?“ fragte sie.

Ich dachte eine Minute nach. „Die Space-Needle“, sagte ich. „Ich wohne schon mein ganzes Leben nur eine Stunde davon entfernt und ich war noch nie da oben.“

„Uuuuhh“, sagte sie. „Es ist sehr romantisch und wunderschön da oben. Und da oben gibt es dieses Restaurant. Es dreht sich langsam, so dass man ganz Seattle sehen kann. Und den Sound. Es ist fantastisch.“

„Dann wirst du mir mal zeigen müssen, wie schön es da ist.“ Mary nickte. „Das mache ich gerne, Mark.“ Ich ließ Mary nach South Hill fahren, wo millionenschwere Häuser am Fuße des Hügels stehen. Von dort hat man einen unglaublichen Blick über den Puyallup River und auf den Mount Rainier.

Während wir durch die Nachbarschaft fuhren, sagte ich Mary, dass sie sich ein Haus aussuchen sollte, das sie besonders mochte. Mary schaute sich um und wählte ein blaugraues Haus mit drei Etagen. Große Fenster gingen zur Straße und der Garten war sehr gepflegt. Mount Rainier erhob sich hinter dem Haus, mit Schnee bedeckt, so majestätisch wie immer. Ich musste immer wieder anhalten und die Schönheit dieses Berges bewundern.

Mary fuhr mit dem Eos in die Auffahrt und Alison parkte den Mustang auf der Straße. Wir stiegen aus und gingen zu der wunderschönen weißen Haupttüre. Ich klingelte. Ein kleiner dicker Mann mit beginnender Glatze öffnete. Er war in den Fünfzigern. Der Rest seiner Haare war grau und er trug einen teuer aussehenden dunkelblauen Anzug. Eine offene Krawatte hing um seinen Hals.

„Kann ich Ihnen helfen?“ fragte er und schaute uns misstrauisch an.

„Ich bin Mark und das hier sind meine Freundin Mary und unsere Schlampe Alison.“

Daraufhin runzelte der Mann seine Stirn. „Runter von meinem Grundstück oder ich rufe die Polizei“, sagte der Mann und wollte die Tür zuschlagen.

Ich hielt die Tür mit einer Hand auf. „Das ist sehr unhöflich. Lade uns ein, hereinzukommen.“

„Entschuldigung“, sagte der Mann. „Kommen Sie doch bitte herein. Ich bin Brandon Fitzsimmons.“

Wir betraten das Haus und es war reichhaltig möbliert. Er führte uns in ein komfortables Wohnzimmer. Dort stand ein weiches cremefarbenes Sofa und ein dazu passender Sessel. Ein riesiger Flatscreen hing an der Wand oberhalb eines beeindruckenden Unterhaltungscenters. Moderne Kunst hing an den Wänden. Mary schaute anerkennend auf die Bilder und fand eines ganz besonders toll, das so aussah, als hätte jemand einfach verschiedene Farben auf eine Leinwand gespritzt. Moderne Kunst verstehe ich einfach nicht.

„Wohnt hier sonst noch jemand?“ fragte ich Brandon.

„Nur meine Frau Desiree“, antwortete er.

Ich wollte ihn schon fragen, ob sie zu Hause war, als eine wundervolle Frauenstimme mit einem leichten spanischen Akzent fragte: „Wer ist denn da an der Tür, Querido?“

Eine hinreißende Latina, Ende Zwanzig in einem weißen Wickelkleid mit einem tiefen Ausschnitt, der eine Menge Dekolletee zeigte. Sie trug keinen BH und ihre vollen Titten hüpften und schwangen in ihrem Kleid, als sie die Treppe herunter kam. Sie war üppig und kurvig. Ihr Arsch schwang unter ihrem Kleid, als sie sich bewegte. Ihre Haut war von einem wundervollen Nussbraun und ihr brünettes Haar war lang und lockig. Sie kam zu ihrem hässlichen Mann und schlang einen Arm um ihn. Der Mann war so klein, dass ihre Titten in seiner Augenhöhe waren. Sie war ganz klar ein Luxusweibchen und sicher eine Mitgiftjägerin.

„Hallo“, begrüßte sie uns. „Ich bin Desiree.“

„Ich bin Mark und das ist Mary“, sagte ich ihr. „Und das da ist Alison. Sie ist unsere Schlampe.“

„Ich verstehe“, sagte Desiree. Sie schaute ihren Mann verwirrt an.

„Was meinst du?“ fragte ich Mary, während ich Desiree betrachtete.

„Kochst du?“ fragte Mary mit nachdenklichem Gesichtsausdruck. Mary wusste genau, was ich von Desiree wollte.

„Ja“, sagte sie. „Ich koche sogar gerne.“

Ich schaute Brendon an. „Ist sie eine gute Köchin?“

„Sie ist die beste. Das ist einer der Gründe, warum ich sie geheiratet habe.“ Während er das sagte, drückte eine Hand den Arsch seiner Frau und sie bewegte sich und wehrte ihn ab. „Hör auf damit“, schnurrte sie. „Was sollen denn unsere Gäste denken!“

„Das ich der glücklichste Kerl auf dieser Welt bin“, sagte Brandon und legte seine Hand wieder auf den wohlgeformten Hintern seiner Frau. Er hatte bemerkt, dass ich ein Raubtier war und seine Frau beäugte. Seine Geste zeigten seinen Besitz an.

„Das wird funktionieren“, sagte Mary.

„Was wird funktionieren?“ fragte Brandon.

„Brandon, wir werden dein Haus und deine Frau für eine Weile ausleihen“, sagte ich ihm.

Er runzelte die Stirn. „Was meinen sie damit, dass Sie meine Frau ausleihen werden?“

„Bleib mal hier stehen und schau zu“, sagte ich lächelnd. „Desiree, geh auf deine Knie und lutsche meinen Schwanz.“ Desiree fiel auf die Knie, ihre Hände fischten meinen Schwanz heraus und schon war er in ihrem Mund. Das Gefühl ihrer weichen Lippen und ihrer Zunge schickte elektrische Schläge durch meinen Körper. „Mmmmh, deine Frau hat einen geilen kleinen Mund!“

Ich sah, dass Mary zu Alison ging und ihr auf den Arsch schlug. „Schlampen sind im Haus nackt!“ befahl sie.

„Entschuldigung, Herrin“ sagte Alison und zog sich schnell das mit Sperma beschmierte Oberteil aus. Dann schlüpfte sie aus ihrer Jeans. Auf ihrem jungen Körper sah man mein getrocknetes Sperma.

„Zieh mich auch aus“, befahl Mary. Alison zog ihr die weiße Bluse aus, öffnete den grauen Spitzen-BH und öffnete dann den engen Rock. Schließlich kniete Alison sich hin und zog ihrer Herrin auch noch das dünne graue Höschen aus. Marys Muschi war direkt vor Alisons Augen und die kleine Schlampe fuhr schnell mit ihrer Zunge durch Marys nassen Schlitz. „Hmmmm, gute Schlampe“, murmelte Mary. Sie griff nach Alisons Arm und zog sie hoch. Sie führte sie zur Couch. Mary setzte sich und zog Alison neben sich. Dann fing sie an, Alisons rosafarbene Lippen zu küssen und an ihren Brustpiercings zu zupfen.

„Desiree, ich bin jetzt dein Meister“, sagte ich ihr. „Und Mary ist deine Herrin. Du wirst alles tun, was Mary oder ich dir sagen, egal wie verkommen oder dreckig es auch ist.“ Sie nickte um meinen Schwanz. „Gut. Alison ist unsere Schlampe Nummer eins. Sie hat das Sagen, wenn Mary oder ich nicht da sind.“ Marys Beine waren weit gespreizt, ihre Muschi war nass und gerötet und sie sehnte sich nach Aufmerksamkeit. „Desiree, leck jetzt die Fotze deiner Herrin.“

Desiree hörte auf, meinen Schwanz zu lutschen und robbte über den Boden. Ihr runder Arsch rollte hin und her. Mary lächelte auf Desiree hinunter und Alison lutschte an einem von Marys Nippeln. Mary stöhnte, als Desiree ihren Mund auf ihre Fotze drückte. Mary griff ihr in ihr dichtes Haar und rieb das Gesicht der Latina durch ihre Fotze. Ich ging hinter Desiree auf den Boden, schob ihren Rock hoch und legte einen schwarzen String frei. Ich riss ihn ihr von der Möse und sah eine rasierte Fotze, deren große Schamlippen geschwollen und nass waren.

„Deine Frau ist nass“, informierte ich Brendon. Er sah aus, als sei ihm schlecht, als ich langsam meinen Schwanz in sie hinein schob. Desiree stöhnte in Marys Fotze hinein.

Ich fing an, Desirees Fotze hart zu ficken. Ich genoss den sanften Griff ihrer Möse und den Anblick, wie sie Marys Fotze ausleckte, während Alison an ihren mit Sommersprossen bedeckten Titten saugte. Marys Hand glitt zwischen Alisons Beine und sie fing an, mit ihrem Kitzler zu spielen. Desirees dicker Hintern wackelte, während ich sie fickte. Und dann fing sie an, sich auf meinem Schwanz zu bewegen. Ich fuhr mit einer Hand unter ihren Bauch und ich fing an zu reiben. Ihre Fotze zog sich um meinem Schwanz zusammen und sie heulte in Marys Fotze hinein.

„Gott, deine Frau ist vielleicht eine dreckige Nutte!“ rief ich Brandon zu. „Hast du das gesehen? Sie ist gerade auf meinem Schwanz gekommen. Desiree, sag deinem Mann, wie sehr du das genossen hast!“

„Ohh, es war so geil!“ keuchte Desiree. Ihr Mund war mit Mösensaft bedeckt. „Sein Schwanz fühlt sich so gut in meiner Möse an. Es ist mir richtig hart gekommen!“

„Wir werden uns gut um deine Frau kümmern“, sagte ich ihrem Mann. „Geh also nach oben und pack deine Koffer. Nimm, was du für ein paar Wochen brauchst und ziehe in ein billiges Motel. Nicht hier in der Umgebung, sondern in der Nähe deiner Arbeit. Dort wirst du wohnen, bis Desiree dich anruft und du wieder nach Hause kommen darfst. Du wirst keinen Versuch unternehmen, deine Frau zu kontaktieren., Du wirst nicht die Polizei informieren oder irgendwem erzählen, was hier passiert. Geh jetzt!“ Brandon beeilte sich, die Treppen nach oben zu gehen.

Es kam Mary auf Desirees Zunge, als ich mich daran machte, sie weiter zu ficken. Mary kam so hart, dass Alison aufhören musste, an ihren Titten zu lutschen. Desiree wollte ihren Kopf wegnehmen, aber Mary hielt sie fest und drückte sie wieder nach unten. „Ich habe nicht gesagt, dass du aufhören darfst, Schlampe!“ Ich schlug hart auf Desirees Arsch und hinterließ einen roten Abdruck. Sie stöhnte eine Entschuldigung in Marys Möse.

Dann schüttelte sich Alison neben Mary. Es kam ihr auf Marys Fingern. „Danke, Herrin“, keuchte sie. „Danke, dass du mich fertig gemacht hast.“ Mary hielt ihre Finger hoch und Alison leckte ihr gehorsam den Saft ab.

Ich griff Desirees Hüften und fing an, sie jetzt so richtig hart zu rammeln. Ich war jetzt kurz vor meinem Orgasmus. Desiree wand sich vor mir und leckte fieberhaft Marys Fotze. Ihre eigene Fotze zog sich zusammen, als es ihr erneut kam. Meine Eier zogen sich zusammen und stöhnend entlud ich mich tief in ihrer Möse. Ich fickte sie noch ein paar Mal und spritzte ihr meinen ganzen Saft hinein. Ermüdet zog ich meinen Schwanz aus der Fotze und ließ mich neben Mary auf das Sofa fallen.

Alison beeilte sich, hinter Desiree kommen und ihr meinen Saft aus der Fotze zu lecken. Mary küsste mich hart und ihre Zunge drang in meinen Mund ein. Sie beendete den Kuss und keuchte laut, als ihr nächster Orgasmus herankam. Ich beugte mich nach unten und nahm einen ihrer Nippel in meinen Mund. „Oh, das ist schön“, flüsterte Mary. „Oh, verdammt, Desiree ist eine gute Fotzenleckerin!“ stöhnte sie und es kam ihr. Sie zitterte. „Jetzt kannst du aufhören, Schlampe!“

Ich lehnte mich auf der Couch zurück. Verdammt, war ich müde. Ich war weit länger als einen Tag wach und mein Schlafmangel überkam mich mit Macht. Ich schloss meine Augen und spürte, wie sich Mary an mich ankuschelte. Ich hörte noch die Geräusche, wie Brandon die Treppe wieder herunterkam. Er zog einen Koffer hinter sich her und ging in die Garage. Er sagte kein Wort. Die Garagentür öffnete sich und der Schlaf…

Ich wurde wieder wach. Wo war ich? Dann fiel es mir wieder ein. Ich war bei den Fitzsimmons. Ich rieb mir den Schlaf aus den Augen und sah, dass Mary neben mir saß. Es war dunkel im Wohnzimmer, die Sonne war in der Zwischenzeit untergegangen. Im Zimmer flackerte nur das Licht des Fernsehers.

„Na, hast du gut geschlafen?“ fragte mich Mary.

Ich nickte und setzte mich auf. Mary hatte geduscht und roch nach Kokosnuss. Ihr rotes Haar fiel nass über ihre Schultern. Sie trug einen rosafarbenen Bademantel aus Seide, der offenstand und ihren nackten Körper zeigte. Alison kniete vor ihr und leckte ihr vorsichtig den Schlitz. Aus dem Fernseher kamen stöhnende Geräusche und ich erkannte, dass das Material lief, dass ich früher aufgenommen hatte. Es war irgendwie merkwürdig, dass ich mir selber dabei zusehen konnte, wie ich irgendeine Frau fickte. Ich glaube, ihr Name war Erin gewesen. Ihr Ehemann war gerade noch mit auf dem Bild. Er wichste sich den Schwanz, während seine Frau auf meinem Schwanz stöhnte.

„Macht das Spaß?“ fragte ich.

„Das ist ziemlich geil“, sagte Mary und seufzte. Sie schob Alison von ihrer Fotze weg. Dann kuschelte sie sich an mich. „Das Essen ist bald fertig. Dann können wir uns unterhalten.“

Unterhalten? Ach ja, verdammt, ich hatte ihr versprochen, dass ich ihr erzählen würde, wie ich Leute dazu bringen konnte, das zu tun, was ich wollte. „Du willst das immer noch wissen?“ Sie nickte und küsste meinen Hals. „Okay, nach dem Essen.“ Wir kuschelten uns aneinander und schaute gemeinsam dem Video zu.

Ich fing schon wieder an, weg zu dämmern, als Desiree sagte: „Das Essen ist fertig.“ Sie stand nackt bis auf eine weiße Schürze in der Wohnzimmertür. Ihre großen Titten traten seitlich heraus und man konnte ihre dunklen Nippel sehen.

Wir standen auf. Mary schloss ihren Bademantel mit einem Gürtel. Der Bademantel lag wie eine zweite Haut an ihrem Körper und modellierte die Kurven ihrer Hüften und ihrer Brüste nach. Desiree führte uns in ein wunderschönes Esszimmer, in dem ein gedeckter Tisch stand. Zwei Teller standen in den Ecken und das einzige Licht kam von Kerzen in silbernen Kerzenständern. Desiree gab Alison eine Flasche Wein und sie goss uns beiden ein Glas Wein ein. Desiree brachte die Teller mit dem Essen und stellte sie auf den Tisch. Auf den Tellern dampfte ein appetitliches Roastbeef mit Bratensoße. Zusätzlich gab es Kartoffelpüree. Neben die Teller stellte sie Salatschälchen mit einem gemischten Salat sowie verschiedene Dressings in Flaschen. Alison rückte Mary den Stuhl zurecht und Desiree tat dasselbe für mich. Als wir saßen, kehrten beide Schlampen in die Küche zurück.

Das Essen war ausgezeichnet und Mary hatte Spaß damit, mich mit kleinen Bissen von ihrer Gabel zu füttern und mir anschließend die Soße vom Kinn zu lecken. Das Roastbeef war auf den Punkt, die Soße war sämig, das Kartoffelpüree war offenbar selber gemacht. Desiree hatte einen dunkelroten Wein ausgesucht, der hervorragend zum Fleisch passte. Als wir unsere Teller leer gegessen hatten, kamen Desiree und Alison zurück und stellten uns Dessertschälchen hin. Es gab Schokoladenkuchen und Vanilleeis. Auch der Kuchen war himmlisch. Desiree war wirklich eine so gute Köchin wie ihr Mann gesagt hatte. Vielleicht würden wir sie einfach behalten. An ihren dicken Ehemann war sie eigentlich eine reine Verschwendung.

Als wir fertig waren, räumte Desiree den Tisch ab. Ihre schweren Brüste schwangen hin und her, wenn sie ging und meine Augen hingen an ihrem runden Arsch, als sie wieder in der Küche verschwand. Das Essen war vorbei und jetzt war es endlich Zeit, Mary zu erzählen, woher meine Fähigkeiten kamen. Ich schaute nach links und sah ihr herzförmiges Gesicht, das mich erwartungsvoll anstarrte. Ihr rosafarbener Bademantel hatte sich während des Essens gelockert und ich konnte einen Nippel auf einer mit Sommersprossen bedeckten Brust sehen.

Meine Hand zitterte und mein Magen rumorte. Ich atmete tief ein. Ich liebte sie und ich wusste, dass ich meine dunkelsten Geheimnisse mit ihr teilen konnte. „Möchtest du immer noch wissen, wie es kommt, dass ich diese Dinge tun kann?“

Sie nickte gierig.

Ich seufzte. „Nun“, fing ich an. Das war schwerer als ich dachte. In meinem Bauch hatten sich schmerzhafte Knoten gebildet. Je länger ich brauchte, umso schwerer wurde es. Vielleicht sollte ich es so machen wie man ein Pflaster abreißt. Ich musste es einfach schnell hinter mich bringen. „Ich habe einen Pakt mit dem Teufel abgeschlossen“, platzte ich heraus.

Mary blinzelte. „Was?“ Sie sah verwirrt aus und runzelte die Stirn.

„In der letzten Nacht habe ich an einer Straßenkreuzung einen Pakt mit dem Teufel abgeschlossen“, erwiderte ich. „Für meine Seele hatte ich drei Wünsche frei. Ein langes gesundes Leben, sexuelles Stehvermögen.“ Ich machte eine Pause. „Und dass Leute tun, was ich sage.“ Ich Gesicht verzog sich überrascht. „Ich liebe dich. Ich will dich nicht länger kontrollieren. Du musst nicht länger das tun, was ich dir sage.“

Stille. Ihr Gesicht war vor Zorn gerötet. „Ich war also gar nicht von dir angezogen. Ich hatte also überhaupt keine Wahl! Du hast mir einfach gesagt, dass ich meine Beine breit machen soll und ich musste das tun! Scheiße, Mark! Was für eine Scheiße!“

„Es tut mir leid, Mary“, flüsterte ich. „Du bist so wunderschön und du hast das, was ich gesagt habe, so gerne gemacht. Ich habe dafür gesorgt, dass es dir gefallen hat. Wie oft ist es dir heute gekommen?“

„Als ob das es besser machen würde!“ rief sie und Tränen liefen über ihre Wangen. „Oh Gott, du hast mich so perverse Sachen machen lassen. Und was du mich meinem Freund antun lassen hast!“ Ihr Körper wurde von Schluchzern geschüttelt.

Das hier lief richtig Scheiße Aber sie hatte recht. Ich hatte dafür gesorgt, dass sie mich liebte und dann hatte ich sie dazu gebracht, dass sie ihren Freund verließ, während ich sie gleichzeitig in den Arsch fickte. Was für ein Arschloch macht denn sowas!

„Ich liebe dich wirklich, Mary“, sagte ich. „Ich glaube sogar, dass es Liebe auf den ersten Blick von mir aus war. Es ist passiert, als ich in den Kaffeeladen gekommen bin. Ich war so einsam und du schienst so glücklich zu sein, das zu tun, was ich dir sagte. Es kam mir einfach nicht falsch vor. Im Laufe der Zeit habe ich allerdings das Gefühl bekommen, dass es falsch von mir war, dir Befehle zu geben, deswegen habe ich versucht, das nicht mehr zu machen. Man sagt einer Schlampe, was man haben will, aber nicht der Frau, die man liebt. Es tut mir leid, dass ich dich verletzt habe. Ich möchte, dass du von dir aus bei mir bist. Nicht, weil ich dich dazu bringe, sondern weil du mich liebst.“

„Und das ist der schlimmste Teil, du Bastard!“ schrie Mary. „Du hast mich dazu gezwungen, dich zu lieben! Und das tut noch mehr weh!“

Ich spürte ein ganz klein wenig Erleichterung. Sie liebte mich immer noch! „Dann lass uns doch die Vergangenheit einfach vergessen. Es kommt doch auf das Jetzt an! Wir lieben uns doch.“

„Das ist keine echte Liebe“, gab Mary zurück. „Das ist das Gift, das du mir gegeben hast!“

„Ist es für dich wichtig, wie du dich in mich verliebt hast?“ fragte ich. „Kommt es nicht eher darauf an, was dein Herz fühlt?“ Ich griff nach ihrer Hand, aber sie zog sie weg. „Wir können zusammen glücklich sein. Ich kann dir geben, was du möchtest. Ich lege dir die Welt zu Füßen.“

Sie zögerte und Zweifel war in ihrem Gesicht zu lesen. Dann spannte sie sich wieder. „Ich glaube, es ist wichtig, dass meine Liebe nicht echt ist.“

„Woher weißt du denn, dass sie nicht echt ist?“ fragte ich.

„Ich…“ Sie öffnete ihren Mund und zögerte. „Ich weiß es nicht.“ Neue Tränen stürzten aus ihren Augen. Sie schluchzte in ihre Hände. „Ich weiß nicht, was ich tun soll.“

„Ich gehe nach oben und warte“, sagte ich ihr. „Wenn deine Liebe größer ist als dein Ärger, dann kommst du nach oben. Wenn du nicht kommst, dann liebe ich dich weiter und ich werde dich nicht aufhalten. Du kannst das Auto nehmen, die Kleider, alles was du willst. Ich verspreche dir, dass ich dir nicht einmal hinterher schauen werde. Denk nur bitte darüber nach, ja?“

Mary saß einen Moment still da und dann nickte sie langsam.

Ich war erleichtert. Es gab also noch eine Chance. „Ich liebe dich, Mary.“

Mary gab mir keine Antwort. Sie weinte einfach weiter in ihre Hände. Ich stand also auf und verließ das Esszimmer. Ich ging in die Küche, wo Alison und Desiree sich gerade um den Abwasch kümmerten. Alison schaute mich ermutigend an. „Es wird schon okay gehen, Meister“, sagte sie und umarmte mich. „Die Herrin liebt dich.“

Alisons Worte halfen mir ein wenig. „Schlampen, wenn ihr fertig seid in der Küche, dann geht ihr in das Gästezimmer und bleibt dort bis morgen früh, es sei denn ihr müsst mal zur Toilette.“

„Ja, Meister“, antworteten beide im Chor. Dann ging ich die Treppe nach oben in das Schlafzimmer. Ich setzte mich auf den Boden und lehnte mit dem Rücken gegen das Bett. Und ich wartete.

Mein Herz schlug ganz hart und es schien sich in meinem Hals zu befinden. Ich presste meine Hände gegeneinander. Und ich wartete. Meine Ohren strengten sich an, um Geräusche von unten zu hören, aber alles was ich hörte, war das Geklappere aus der Küche. Ich hoffte, dass ihre Liebe zu mir stärker war als ihre Wut. Ich würde zu Gott beten, aber ich war mir sicher, dass er mir nicht antworten würde. Mir fiel das Atmen mit jeder Minute schwerer, die verstrich. Die Spannung drückte mein Herz zusammen. Minuten kamen mir wie Stunden vor. Je länger ich wartete, umso stärker wurde der Gegensatz zwischen Hoffnung und Verzweiflung. Die beiden Gefühle fingen an, sich wie ein Rad in meinem Kopf zu drehen. Alle anderen Gedanken gab es nicht mehr.

Mary würde nach oben kommen. Mary würde gehen.

Immer wieder, wie eine Nadel auf einer defekten Schallplatte liefen diese beiden Gedanken durch meinen Kopf. Mary würde nach oben kommen. Mary würde gehen. Hoffnung und Verzweiflung, Liebe und Trauer kämpften um meine Seele. Mein Herz schlug. Ich dachte, dass es in meiner Brust zerspringen müsste.

Mary würde nach oben kommen. Mary würde gehen.

Die Haustür öffnete sich. Ein Automotor startete. Die Verzweiflung schlug die Hoffnung. Die Liebe wurde durch die Trauer ertränkt.

Mary würde gehen.

Ich schluchzte in meine Hände.

To be continued …

Click here for Kapitel 6