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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.

The Devil’s Pact, Ghost of Paris Chapter 3: The Lionesses

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

The Ghost of Paris Chapter Three: The Lionesses

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2014


Story Codes: Male/Teen female, Male/Teen females, Teen female/Teen female, Mind Control, Magic, Voyeurism, Male Masturbation, Exhibitionism, Oral Sex, School, First

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 2.



Monday, September 2nd, 2013 – Paris, Texas

Selling my soul was the single greatest decision of my life!

Being invisible was the greatest freedom in the world. And molesting the girls that I used to spy on was the marshmallow in the moon pie. I spent my Sunday the same way I spent my Saturday, cruising the Paris Commons and porking a few young things. I followed one home and spent the night in her bed; her parents had no idea just how much of a filthy whore their daughter was. Her name was Heather and I definitely had to revisit her bed.

I loved peeping on girls. I’ve been to prison twice for my hobby—once for drilling a hole into the girls’ locker room at Boone High and the other time for taking upskirt pics of girls at the mall. My absolutely favorite girls to peep on were the Lionesses, the Varsity Cheer Squad for Boone High School. Since the school’s mascot was a roaring lion, the cheerleaders started calling themselves the Lionesses. Since I got out of prison, I’ve watched them every time they’ve practiced. In the past I’ve been forced to keep my distance, but no longer.

I waited right on the sun-beaten, wooden bleachers for the girls. It was a warm day, and my pecker was rock-hard just thinking about those beautiful teens. They were all pretty, in their black-and-gold uniforms that showed off their gorgeous legs, and when they raised up their arms, their tops would ride up and show off a few inches of flat stomach.

While all of them were beautiful, I had five favorites: fiery redheaded Kelly, with her freckled cheeks; big-titted Ursula and her sky-blue eyes; shy and demure Brandy, doll-faced and tawny-haired; ebony-skinned Latonya, her hair gathered into a dozen or so short, beaded braids that clacked together whenever she moved her head; and tall, curvy Marybeth, with her pouty lips and smoky gazes.

The girls started arriving in ones and twos, giggling as they walked up, their pleated skirts swaying about their fine, toned thighs. There were about a dozen girls in the squad. Latonya’s the captain and she used her whistle to get their attention. I started walking amongst the girls as they started their stretching, admiring their bodies up close, trying to decide which girl deserved my attention first. They were between coaches, so Latonya was in charge of running things, and the Black girl shouted orders like a drill instructor.

I moved behind Ursula as she bent over, her skirt riding up and exposing her black spankies, the bloomer shorts cheerleaders wore over their underwear. The spandex of her spankies was tight across her ass and I could see the lines of her panties. I reached out and stroked the panty line on her right asscheek.

Ursula jumped and spun around, crimson spotting her cheeks. “What the heck, Marybeth?”

Marybeth – who was behind her and looking at Ursula through my invisible body – frowned. “What?”

“You touched my bum!”

Marybeth put her hands on her hips, shaking her head, her short, black hair, swaying about her shoulders. “I did no such thang!”

Latonya blew her whistle. “C’mon ladies, back to y’alls stretches. And Marybeth, don’t be such a dyke!”

“But I didn’t touch her ass!” Then she gave Ursula a considering stare. “Although, it is one mighty fine ass.”

Ursula glared daggers at Marybeth and moved away from the girl.

Chuckling, I goosed Marybeth’s pert ass and she shrieked, rubbing her butt. Latonya blew the whistle a second time and stalked over to Marybeth. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Someone pinched my ass,” the doll-faced girl complained.

Latonya rolled her eyes. “No-one pinched your assssaahhh!” I gave Latonya’s black booty a good squeeze and the captain whirled around and glared at Ursula. “Why did you grab me?”

“Excuse me?” Ursula asked, blinking in confusion.

Feeling bolder, I grabbed the bottom of Latonya’s top and pulled it up over her head. The girls all watched wide-eyed as I as twirled her top through the air, before I threw it to the ground. Latonya stared in disbelief at her blouse, her full breasts covered by a white sports bra that contrasted nicely with her ebony skin.

“It’s the Ghost!” Brandy gasped. “Mindy was tellin’ me ’bout it.” I smiled, remembering the fun I had with Mindy in the Banana Republic changing room on Saturday.

“Ghost?” Marybeth asked.

“Yeah, he haunts the Commons and molests any purtee girl he finds,” Kelly added. I grinned, pleased to hear about my growing legend.

Latonya still stared at her top in disbelief, so I unclasped her sports bra and ripped it off, freeing her chocolate breasts and bright pink nipples. Latonya gasped, and clasped her hand over her bare tits. She looked around wildly. In fact, all the girls were spinning about, holding on to their tops for dear life, and trying to spot me. God, this was such fun.

“We should skedaddle,” Brandy said fearfully.

The tawny-haired girl was backing slowly away from the group as Latonya shrieked. My lips engulfed her nipple, sucking hard, as I lifted the cheerleader off the ground and spun her about. All the Lionesses were backing away as their cheer captain was whirled about by the ‘ghost.’ Well, all of them except Marybeth. She was the boldest, and leapt at me. The girl’s sudden weight on my back threw me off-balance and the three of us went sprawling to the ground in a tangled mess of limbs as the girls struggled to get away from me.

My pecker was aching hard and I wanted to stick it into one of the objects of my voyeuristic affections. Latonya rolled away, so I grasped Marybeth’s spankies and panties, and yanked them down her ass. She didn’t resist; part of my Pact was for the women I molested to enjoy it. I pulled her up on her hands and knees, flipped up her pleated skirt to expose her curvy ass and shaved cooch, and I could just make out the triangle of black hair on her pubic bone. I knelt behind her and rubbed my pecker on her moistening cunt, then shoved into her velvety warm depths.

“Oh my Lord, the ghost is fuckin’ me!” Marybeth yowled like a startled alley cat.

The girls fled, racing across the field, leaving Marybeth to my mercies. Latonya didn’t even bother putting her top or bra back on, just ran with her breasts bouncing about for the entire world to see. I grabbed Marybeth’s curvy hips and plowed into her hard and fast.

“I love tight, teenage cooch!” I moaned.

“Umm, your cock feels kinda nice, Mr. Ghost!”

“Are all you cheerleaders such sluts, sweetness?”

Marybeth laughed, “Not all of us. But the football team ain’t got no complaints from me!”

Her cheermates were almost back to the school, and it wouldn’t be long before they were racing back with help. I redoubled my efforts, driving my pecker frantically into her slippery cooch. The little slut started fucking me back, shaking those fine hips, and moaning like a bitch in heat. She kept looking over her head at me, her green eyes roaming about, trying to see something.

“You gotta great cooch, slut!”

“Thanks, you gotta great dick, Ghost!”

The girls were coming back with a big man. The football coach, I think, and they were all running across the field towards us. Fuck, I was almost there! I had to finish fast; luckily I hadn’t molested anyone else today, and I was ready to pop off in a cheerleader’s cunt. Just a few more strokes and I would be shooting inside her. I plunged in and out; the angry football coach was fifty-yards away. Into her tight cooch—only forty-yards away; out of her cunt—thirty-yards away and closing fast.

“Fuckin’ A!” I shouted as I buried into her sweet cunt, and came as the coach was a mere twenty-yards away. I pulled out, my pecker still cumming, spraying her back and ass with invisible spunk as he reached Marybeth, his face ruddy with exertion. She looked back at me, frustration twisting her pretty features.

“You okay?” he growled at my little fuckmate, looking around. “Where’d that pervert go!”

“It was a ghost, Mr. Breeze,” Marybeth answered, pulling up her spankies and panties.

“A ghost?” Mr. Breeze roared, looking at the girls. Latonya followed at a trot, her hands clasped over her breasts. “Is this some sorta joke?” he demanded of her.

“No,” the girls all said, but he didn’t believe them and cheer practice was over as he marched the girls back into the school, unleashing an explosive tirade the entire way.

As they started walking dejectedly after the coach, I heard Marybeth whisper to Ursula, “Shame Mr. Breeze showed up, I was about to have me a nice cum.”

“You’re such a slut,” Ursula said with disgust. She opened her mouth, prepared to say more, but closed her trap as Mr. Breeze glared at her.

There was no cheer practice on Tuesday, to my disappointment. The girls must be in a heap of trouble, and I almost regretted fucking Marybeth yesterday. Almost. I was back on Wednesday, praying like hell that the girls would be allowed to practice. I mounted the bleachers to wait and plopped my naked ass down on the old wood. Pain flared and I jumped back up; something had stuck in my butt-cheek. I felt around, felt a rough splint of wood sticking dead center in the meat of my right cheek. Gritting my teeth, I grabbed splinter and spent a minute trying to dig it out of my ass.

“Fuckin’ piece of shit,” I muttered, flicking the splinter away. This time I carefully checked where I was about to plop my ass.

When the girls arrived, they were all huddled together, most looking a little nervous, and they all glanced around cautiously before they started their stretches. I started walking amongst them, admiring their breasts filling out their tops, or the way their pleated skirts fell on their asses. I grasped my hardening pecker and started jerking off madly. I was so excited I popped off early, spraying Kelly’s ass with my invisible cum.

“What in tarnation,” she muttered, rubbing her ass. “It feels like my butt’s all wet.”

“There ain’t nothin’ there,” Brandy told her as Kelly rubbed her ass. Kelly sniffed her fingers then flushed and grimaced, bending down to wipe her hands off on the grass. The little slut sure knew what she smelled.

I watched them go through a few of their cheer routines while I waited for my pecker to recharge. I found myself fixated on the redheaded Kelly. How did that slut know what cum smelled like? She must have tasted it before, maybe giving her boyfriend head in his pick-up truck? Or maybe she has been giving favors to the football team. I pictured her kneeling at my feet, my hand gripping her fiery-red hair as I fucked her mouth.

“Go Lions!” the girls cheered and clapped as they finished a routine, jumping up and down and shaking their pompoms—the gold-and-black ones in their hands and the perky ones beneath their tops.

My pecker felt rested, so I strode out into the girls, to Kelly. She shrieked when I stroked her face, brushing an errant, red curl off her cheek. “Oh no, he’s back!”

“Really?” Marybeth asked. Was that eagerness I heard in the slutty cheerleader’s voice?

“Just try and ignore him,” Latonya sighed. “We’re lucky we convinced Princ’pal Schneider to let us keep practicin’.”

Kelly flushed and the girls started the next routine. I watched Kelly as she clapped her hands and shouted the chant in time with the other girls. She turned to move and ran right into me, and grunted in surprise as she stumbled back. I quickly reached out and grabbed her shoulders, pushing her down to her knees, my cock slapping her face.

“Oh, no!” Kelly protested, flinching from my pecker. “The ghost is…”

I shoved my pecker into her open mouth. She was warm and wet, and I started fucking her pie hole. She sat unmoving for a minute while all the cheerleaders stared at us. Kelly’s hands pushed at my body, trying to force herself away for a moment, and then she relaxed and the little slut started sucking my pecker. It was heavenly.

“Are you suckin’ ghost cock?” Marybeth asked, her voice full of heat.

Kelly’s answer was muffled by my pecker. I grabbed a fistful of her hair and started thrusting wildly. All of the cheerleaders’ eyes on us spurred me on, and I slammed my pecker harder into her sweet mouth. She sucked as my cock rubbed against the roof of her mouth and brushed the back of her throat. Her tongue slid along the shaft, curling around and brushing the head, stroking the fire burning in my balls.

“You’re so lucky,” Marybeth complained. “Wish it was me. God, he fucked me so hard last time, and I was so close to cummin’ when Coach Windbag spoiled all my fun.”

“Gosh, you really are a slut!” Ursula snapped at Marybeth.

“Relax, Ursula,” Marybeth replied. “You seem tense, I bet you need a nice cum. That’d mellow you right out, and I’d be more than happy to give you a helpin’ hand. Y’know, give your clam a little fingerin’.”

“Fuckin’ dyke,” muttered Ursula.

Marybeth kissed at Ursula and purred, “Just for you, sugar.”

“Knock it off!” Latonya snapped. “Let’s keep practicin’. Umm, Kelly, you can continue when you…er…finish.”

Kelly’s tongue was roaming my cock as she blew me, and I slowed my fucking and let her do the work as I watched the cheerleaders go through their routines. Their slim legs flashed as they jumped and spun and kicked. Their breasts, particularly Ursula’s large tits, bounced around beneath their tops like two cats fighting in a sack. Kelly’s hand started rubbing on the underside of my pecker while her other slid up my legs and found my balls, massaging them softly. The slut must be eager for my cum.

I focused on Ursula’s big tits as they bounced up and down, over and over. It was almost hypnotic, watching her sweater puppies play beneath her top, and my balls tightened. I was close to cumming in Kelly’s sucking mouth. The little slut sure knew how to give head, clearly eager for my spunk, so, with a ghostly moan, I obliged her and spilled my cum into her pie hole. She coughed when I pulled out of her mouth, licking her lips, searching for any invisible cum that may have leaked out.

“How was it?” Marybeth asked as she gave Kelly an applause.

She glanced up at Marybeth and flushed. “Salty.”

Sadly, their practice ended before my pecker recovered. Thursday afternoon, I was back, eager to play with my Lionesses. Marybeth seemed to be the most adventuresome, and I had a perverted thought floating in my mind. As they did their stretches, I sidled up to Marybeth, rubbing her ass. The girl smiled over her shoulder at me and pressed her butt back into my hand.

I whispered, “How’d you like Ursula munchin’ on your rug?”

She glanced back at me, an excited twinkle in her green eyes. “I ain’t got no rug, Mr. Ghost.”

I smiled, remembering how beautiful her shaved cooch was. “Well, I reckon she could polish them hardwood floors you got, sweetness.”

“Ohh, I’d love to have Miss Prissy’s tongue up my snatch.”

I whispered my plan to her.

As the girls started their routine, I walked behind Ursula and reached around to squeeze her huge tits while I pressed my hard cock into her firm ass. She stiffened in my arms, and screeched, “Oh, no! Please not me, Mr. Ghost. I’m born-again. It ain’t right for me to do this.”

“ ‘Fraid it’s you, sweetness,” I whispered into her ear. “You’re just too purtee to resist. Particu’rly with them mighty fine melons.” I gave her tits a squeeze. “They feel mighty ripe, why don’t we check, sweetness?” I grabbed the hem of her top and pulled it up over her head. Her large tits were contained in a black, tank top bra, and I took that off, too; her melons popped out, and they were heavy and ripe, topped with fat, brown nipples and aerolas the size of silver dollars. A small, gold cross on a thin chain dangled between her melons, almost vanishing in the valley of her huge mountains. I hefted a tit, gave her meaty melon a squeeze, and bent down to suck a nipple into my mouth. “Umm, they are ripe and tasty.”

While I sucked her titties, I slid my hand down her pleated skirt to find her thigh, caressed her silky skin, and slid up beneath her skirt, finding the elastic band of her spankies. She stiffened, crying out, “Please mister, I’m a virgin!”

“Well, I reckon you ’bout to lose that there cherry, sweetness.” I shoved my hand roughly down her spankies and panties, feeling her soft cooch. “Don’t you worry now, my pecker’s gonna make you howl like a coyote at the moon!”

I pulled down hard on her spankies and panties, and now all she wore was her pleated skirt, her socks, and shoes. I lifted up her skirt to see a blonde bush; guess she was a natural. I reached a finger down and slid it through her cornsilk-soft down and found her growing wetness. She shuddered as my finger ran through her slit and rubbed on her little clit.

“No, no, no,” she whispered as I pushed down on her shoulders. She didn’t resist, though, stretching out on her back for me on the bright green grass.

Latonya blew her whistle. “C’mon girls, keep practicin’.”

No one listened. They all watched as I pushed up Ursula’s skirt, spread her legs, and prepared to take her virginity. Ursula was almost hyperventilating, and she jumped as she felt my pecker press against the lips of her virgin cooch. I rubbed the head of my pecker up and down on her lips, enjoying the feel on my sensitive tip. Then I pushed in slowly, delighting in the tight feel of her cunt as it gave way before my pressing pecker. Deeper and deeper I drove, until I buried every inch of it into her juicy cooch.

“Where’s your cherry, slut?” I demanded in disappointment. I always wanted to pop a girl’s cherry. “Thought you said you was a virgin?”

“I broke it years ago. Doin’ cheerleadin’.”

Her cooch gave a little squeeze on my cock, and her hips twitched as I plowed into her. I leaned down, felt her pillowy tits on my chest, and whispered, “You like my pecker in you, don’t ya slut?”

A small whisper escaped her lips.

“What was that, slut?” I asked, really nailing my pecker into her tight cooch, enjoying every velvety inch of her cunt.

“Yes.” Her eyes were full of shame.

“Louder!” I hissed. “Let everyone know how much a slut you is.”

“I love it!” she yelled. “I love his penis inside my vagina!”

“Your cunt,” I corrected.

“Yes, yes, my cunt! God forgive me, but fuck my cunt! Oh my gosh, this feels so, so…fuck!”

Her hips started moving beneath me as I fucked her velvet cunt; she had the tightest hole I’d ever been in. Luckily, she was well greased and I pumped in and out of her smoothly like a piston in a cylinder, my every thrust igniting her spark plug. Around us, the cheerleaders were all watching us fuck, their young faces flushed with desire, especially Marybeth’s. I rose up, hooking her thighs with my legs, and started pounding her cooch, Ursula’s big tits flopping about as her body shook with the force of my fucking.

Latonya blew her whistle. “C’mon girls, keep practicin’. Just ignore them.”

“How can I ignore those purtee tits,” purred Marybeth. “I reckon she’s as stacked as Dolly Parton!”

“Don’t you be lookin’, dyke,” Ursula gasped, covering her breasts with her hands

I stopped fucking her, my pecker buried in her cooch, and pulled her hands away. “None of that, sweetness. I want to see them big melons of yours.”

“Sorry! Just keep fuckin’ in me!” she begged, wiggling her hips in frustration. “I’m so close!”

“Now, what you said to Marybeth was purtee mean,” I told her. “She was just payin’ you a comp’ment. I reckon you owe her an apol’gy.”

“I’m sorry for callin’ you a dyke,” Ursula panted.

“I’m not sure that’s good enough,” Marybeth said with indignation. “You’re always callin’ me names.”

“Well, Ursula, how ’bout you let Marybeth sit on your face, and you eat her cunt out good and proper,” I suggested. “Then I’ll keep fuckin’ you.”

Ursula shook her head violently.

“Okay, I’ll just go fuck Marybeth.” I started to pull out and Ursula wrapped her legs around my hips and pulled me back in. “You gonna munch on her muff? That’s why I’m here, sweetness. You girls gotta learn to like each other.”

Ursula bit her lip, then softly said, “Okay.”

Marybeth grinned and pulled off her black spankies and panties revealing that shaved cooch dripping with juices. She straddled Ursula’s face, and a look of fear passed over Ursula’s face as she stared up at Marybeth’s cooch, then Marybeth lowered her cunt down. I couldn’t see what was happening with her pleated skirts in the way, but Marybeth was moaning like a banshee.

“Hold your skirt up,” I ordered.

I almost came seeing Ursula’s tongue licking through Marybeth’s shaved cunt. Her tongue was stiff, hesitant, but as I started fucking the former virgin, she seemed to get more and more eager. Marybeth had a shit-eating grin plastered on her lips as she rubbed her cooch across Ursula’s face. Latonya kept blowing her whistle, trying to get the cheerleaders to practice, but none of the girls were listening, too caught up in watching our three-way.

It was Kelly who started the cheer, and the other girls quickly took it up:

“Get her all fired up!
Get down, to town,
And go all the way!
Get her all fired up!
So lick and suck
And blow Marybeth away!”

I fucked Ursula faster, spurred on by the cheerleaders. Everywhere I looked, beautiful, teenage girls jumped and pranced. Some flipped up their skirts and shook their asses in my face, others pulled up their tops and flashed some Grade A teenage titties. It was like I had died and gone to perverts’ heaven!

“Lick my pussy!” moaned Marybeth. “Ohh, Ursula, I love your tongue. Why didn’t we do this ages ago? I can tell that you’re a natural oyster shucker!”

I wasn’t going to last much longer in Ursula’s tight clam; my balls were boiling over. I gave one of her big tits a squeeze, rolling her fat nipple between my fingers, and I groaned loudly as her tight cunt squeezed my cock. I needed to cum, badly, and I pistoned my pecker into her hole as fast as I could, that explosive release just a few thrusts away.

“Lionesses are hot.
Lionesses are wet.
Lionesses will explode
And cum all over you!”

Their newest cheer did it! I spilt ropey cum inside Ursula’s virgin cunt; I bet she wasn’t even on the pill. How big would her tits grow if she was pregnant? She would be sexy as hell with her pregnant belly, and I reckon her breasts would become absolutely ginormous. Breathing heavily, I pulled out of her cunt and sat on the grass, picturing how sexy the squad would be if they all were pregnant, prancing about with their round bellies. Fuck, I wanted to knock them all up.

This was definitely worth selling my soul for!

“Umm, I think the ghost just finished,” Marybeth purred. “Let me clean you up.” She bent down and lapped at Ursula’s cunt. “Um, you taste great Ursula. Now I’ve tasted the entire squad’s pussies!”

“Go Marybeth!” Brandy shouted, jumping up and waving her pompoms.

“Wait, she’s gone down on more than just me?” Latonya gasped. Most of the girls blushed guiltily.

“Umm, and you all taste wonderful,” Marybeth giggled.

“You are such a slut,” Kelly teased.

“The biggest!” Proudly, Marybeth bent down and started licking at Ursula’s cunt while Kelly started up another chant, punctuated with claps.

“Hey, Hey
Hey hey are you ready?”
*clap, clap*
“Are you ready?”
*clap,clap*
“To cum!”
*clap*
“Go Ursula!”
*clap*
“Go Marybeth!”
*clap*
“Lionesses go all the way!”

Ursula and Marybeth seemed to take their teammates’ cheer to heart as both girls writhed and moaned into each other’s cunts, both eagerly licking up the other’s juices as they came. There was something so beautiful about two lesbo teens making each other cum. Marybeth flopped onto her back, breathing heavily, while Ursula licked her lips, a surprisingly happy smile on her face.

“Who’s the dyke now?” Marybeth asked.

“We are,” Ursula giggled, her jugs jiggling as she sat up.

“All right, back to practice,” Latonya ordered bossily. “We need to be ready for Homecoming on Saturday!”

Of course I was back on Friday; I wasn’t about to miss out on the last practice of the week. The girls were all full of giggling excitement when they walked onto the field, Latonya at the lead. She looked fierce, like a Zulu warrior marching into battle. As she swung her head around, looking for me, her beaded braids clicked and clacked a staccato beat; her war drums leading her into battle.

“Are you here, Mr. Ghost?” she asked, hands on her hips.

“Course I am,” I answered. “Wouldn’t miss you fine, young thangs shakin’ your asses.”

“You are disruptin’ our practices,” Latonya declared, her ebony face stern. “So we decided that one girl would entertain you behind the bleachers, allowin’ the rest of us to practice unmolested.”

I mulled that over. “Which girl?”

“We drew straws,” Latonya said, then her ebony skin somehow flushed darker than I thought possible, and her posture became less firm, less certain. “Today it will be me. So, do we have a deal?”

I didn’t answer her, just grabbed the Black girl and threw her over my shoulder while she gave a surprised scream, her beads clattering loudly. Then I pulled off her spankies and panties, stroked her Black booty, gave her wet groove a stroke, then turned and marched to the bleachers with my prize. Behind me the cheerleaders started up another chant:

“Up and down, our girls don’t mess around,
because our cunts are the best
put our pussies to the test!
On your cock, our girls slide up and down!
Go, Lionesses!”

Behind the bleacher, Latonya’s ebony breasts, topped with pink nipples, wildly bounced as she rode my pecker up and down. I wasn’t sure if the Lionesses’ cunts were the best. I hadn’t tried them all.

Yet!

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 4.

The Devil’s Pact Chapter 38: Shamans

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Chapter 38: Shamans

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2013, 2014


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

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

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



Click here for Chapter 37.



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

Sunday passed in a haze of pain.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will they help me to escape?”

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

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

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

“Like what?”

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

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

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

“How many could I have?”

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

I nodded. “What other prayers are there?”

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

Mary Glassner – Southern France

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

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

I had no idea how to do it.

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

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

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

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

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

Please! I silently begged. Just let me sleep!

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

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

Brandon has…other. Brandon has brother?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One instant of perfect joy.

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

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

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

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

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

Mark woke first.

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

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

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

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

Emi, the Dimme – Seattle, WA

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

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

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

Mark Glassner.

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

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

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

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

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

We are Dimme. We do not fail.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His blow caught me by surprise.

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

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

“How!” I coughed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Good.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Molech had to be stopped.

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

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

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

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

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

“Capture Brandon!” I commanded.

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

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

The ghosts of Karen, 32, and 63 advanced.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just one more second.

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

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

I found a chain manacled to my soul.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Basically.”

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

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

“What’s that?”

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

“Wow,” I whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I raised my sword.

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

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

I swung my sword.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He flushed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

We have Brandon. Just follow the open security doors.

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

No I didn’t. My plan failed, Mark.

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

I flushed even more.

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

“Mark!” I screamed in warning.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My hand went limp.

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

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

The fire of Molech.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Brandon Fitzsimmons.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Brandon Fitzsimmons – The Abyss

The gun barked.

I was falling, falling, falling into darkness.

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

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

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 39.

Der Pakt mit dem Teufel Kapitel 4: Verkäuferinnen

 

 

Der Pakt mit dem Teufel

Kapitel 4: Verkäuferinnen

Von mypenname3000

Übersetzt von Horem

© Copyright 2013, 2014


Story Codes: Male/Female, Male/Teen female, Female/Teen female, Male/Female/Teen female, Mind Control, Incest, Rimming, Anal, Oral, Work, Magic, Domination/Submission

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 3



Mary und ich verließen den Salon. Wir hatten unsere Arme umeinander geschlungen. „Wo ist dein Auto?“ fragte Mary und schaute sich um.

„Ich habe die Scheißkarre nicht mehr“, sagte ich ihr und führte sie zu meinem neuen silbernen Mustang. „Hier ist mein neues Auto, Mare.“

„Wie kam das denn?“ Mary hob die Augenbrauen.

„Ich habe mein Auto eingetauscht.“

„Wie kann das denn sein?“ fragte Mary. „Alle machen einfach das, was du sagst.“

Es war einfach. Ich hatte einen Vertrag mit dem Teufel abgeschlossen und jetzt müssen alle Menschen tun, was ich ihnen sage, willig und gerne. Aber das wollte ich Mary nicht erzählen. „Wenn du das wirklich wissen willst, dann erzähle ich dir das heute Abend. Denk darüber nach. Vielleicht magst du es ja gar nicht hören.“

Sie runzelte die Stirn und ihre Augenbrauen zogen sich zusammen. „Was soll das heißen?“

„Denk einfach darüber nach“, sagte ich ihr. Ich hätte ihr auch sagen können, dass sie es vergessen sollte, Aber irgendetwas hielt mich auf. Ich liebte sie. Es fühlte sich nicht richtig an, sie zu etwas zu bringen, was ich haben wollte. Sie war nicht wie die anderen Frauen. Ich küsste ihre Stirn. „Ich liebe dich.“

Sie wurde rot und lächelte. „Ich liebe dich auch.“ Ihre Lippen waren weich und warm, als sie mich küsste. „Also, kaufst du mir jetzt neue Kleider?“

„Mach ich“, sagte ich. „Du kannst haben, was du möchtest. Geld spielt keine Rolle.“

„Nun, dann hoffe ich, dass du durchhältst.“

„Ich bin dein Hengst. Ich habe eine Menge Durchhaltevermögen.“ Jedenfalls sexuelles Durchhaltevermögen. Noch etwas, das ich vom Teufel erhalten hatte. Und ein gesundes und langes Leben.

Sie kicherte. „Da möchte ich wetten.“ Ihre Hand ergriff meinen Schwanz und sie spürte, wie er unter ihrer Berührung hart wurde. Dann setzte sie sich im Mustang auf den Beifahrersitz. „Komm schon“, sagte sie ungeduldig.

„Okay, Mare“, sagte ich und schob meinen Schwanz in meiner Hose zur Seite. Ich stieg in meinen neuen Mustang ein. Der Motor röhrte los.

„Der Mustang passt zu dir“, sagte Mary, als ich die Parklücke verließ. „Du stehst außerhalb der Regeln dieser Gesellschaft. Du bist wie ein wildes Pferd, das auf den weiten Ebenen lebt und das jedes Fohlen besteigt, das du haben willst.“ Ich grinste sie an. „Du darfst von mir aus auch jedes Fohlen haben, das du haben willst. Denk nur daran, dass ich dein Fohlen Nummer Eins bin.“

„Ewig“, antwortete ich und sie nickte. „Du darfst natürlich auch so viele Fohlen besteigen, wie du willst.“

Mary lachte herzlich. „Wie sollen denn zwei Fohlen ficken?“ fragte sie. „Ich glaube, das mit den Besteigen würde wohl nicht funktionieren. Vielleicht sollten sie sich Hintern an Hintern stellen und ihre Mösen aneinander reiben.“ Ich lachte bei diesem Bild.

„Vielleicht könnten sie sich abwechselnd gegenseitig die Mösen lecken“, schlug ich vor. Dann musste ich an der Ampel an der Ausfahrt des Parkplatzes stehen bleiben. Auf der anderen Straßenseite lag unser Ziel, die South Hill Mall.

Mary lachte lauter. „Wie… ein… Salzstein…“ Sie keuchte vor Lachen. Ihr Lachen war ansteckend und ich lachte mit ihr. Sie war hellrot geworden und es dauerte eine ganze Minute, bis sie sich wieder gefasst hatte. „Ich wollte schon immer Pferde“, sagte sie, nachdem sie sich wieder erholt hatte. „Ich weiß noch, im Sommer, bevor…“ Sie machte eine Pause und Traurigkeit flog über ihr Gesicht. „Bevor meine Mama weggegangen ist, hat sie mich mal zum Reiten mit in die Berge genommen. Das waren sehr majestätische Tiere. Bist du schon mal geritten?“

„Nein“, sagte ich und schüttelte den Kopf. Die Ampel wurde grün und ich fuhr quer über die Straße. „Vielleicht können wir das ja mal zusammen machen.“

Mary lächelte mich an. „Das wäre toll.“

Ich fand einen Parkplatz. Ich benutzte die Fernbedienung, um den Wagen zu verschließen und schmunzelte, als die Lichter blinkten und die Hupe erschallte. Ich hatte noch nie ein Auto mit einer Fernbedienung gehabt. Ich fand das toll. Ich machte das Auto wieder auf und verschloss es wieder. Mary schaute mir amüsiert zu. „Macht das Spaß?“ fragte sie mich.

„Ja“, sagte ich und öffnete das Auto wieder. Sie rollte ihre Augen und ich grinste sie an und verschloss die Tür wieder. „Okay, ich bin fertig.“

Wir nahmen uns wieder in die Arme und gingen in die Mall. Wir schlenderten langsam durch die Einkaufsmeile und schauten die Schaufenster und die Mädchen an. Das Mädchenanschauen wurde zu einer Art von Spiel, bei dem wir abwechselnd ein süßes Mädchen auswählten und dem anderen zuflüsterten, was wir mit ihm machen würden. Einmal zeigte Mary auf eine Latina mit einem großen Arsch und einem Arschgeweih und flüsterte mir ins Ohr: „Bei der würde ich gerne dein Sperma aus dem Arsch lecken.“ Und das genau in dem Moment, als ein paar ältere Damen an uns vorbei kamen. Sie schauten uns angewidert an und wir fingen an zu lachen, während sie weitergingen.

Der erste Laden, in den mich Mary führte, hieß Old Navy. Er war hell erleuchtet und hing voll mit sehr farbigen Sachen. „Hier kaufe ich gerne ein“, sagte Mary. Sie sah etwas auf einem Ständer und flog praktisch hin. Sie hatte ein Shirt in der Hand. „Sind die nicht süß?“ rief sie, während sie durch die Sachen schaute.

„Wie geht es Ihnen heute?“ fragte ein weibischer junger Mann Mary. Ich war enttäuscht. Ich hatte gehofft, dass hier ein süßes Mädchen arbeiten würde, mit dem ich ein bisschen Spaß haben konnte, während Mary einkaufte und nicht ein Mann. Ich seufzte enttäuscht, während er Mary alle Shirts im Detail erklärte. Ich dachte mir, dass er wahrscheinlich schwul war, denn ich konnte mir nicht vorstellen, dass ein Hetero-Mann derartig an diesen Dingen interessiert sein konnte. Naja, jedenfalls würde er Mary in Ruhe lassen.

Ich sah mich im Laden um und er war ziemlich leer, bis auf ein wunderschönes Teenager-Mädchen. Ganz schlank mit langem schwarzem Haar mit hellen purpurfarbenen Glanzlichtern. Ich lächelte. Ich würde vielleicht doch noch zu meinem Spaß kommen. Sie trug ein Top mit einem Blumenmuster, das so kurz geschnitten war, dass ihr flacher Bauch und ihr gepiercter Bauchnabel zu sehen waren. Unter ihrem kurzen Jeansrock trug sie eine scharfe rosafarbene Leggings. Das Mädchen hielt irgendwem ein Top hin und ich sah eine ältere Frau halb verborgen hinter einem Kleiderständer. Sie war Mitte Dreißig, attraktiv und ähnelte dem Mädchen. Entweder war sie die ältere Schwester oder sie war noch sehr jung gewesen, als sie ihre Tochter bekommen hatte.

„Hey“, sagte ich dem Angestellten. „Gehe und schließe den Laden und dann hilf Mary bei ihrem Einkauf. Und kümmere dich nicht darum, dass im Hintergrund des Ladens gefickt wird.“

„Oh ja, natürlich, Sir“, sagte er und machte sich auf den Weg.

Mary schaute auf das Mädchen und ihre Augen leuchteten, als sie sie genauer erkannte. „Sie ist süß.“ Mary schlug mir auf den Arsch. „Reite sie gut, mein Hengst.“

Gott, ich liebte Mary. Ich küsste sie, bevor ich in den hinteren Bereich des Ladens schlenderte. Hinter mir schloss der Mann den Laden ab. Das Teenager-Mädchen und ihre Begleiterin sahen alarmiert auf. „Das ist schon okay“, sagte ich. „Ihr könnt ruhig weiter einkaufen.“

„Was ist los?“ fragte die Frau und legte schützend einen Arm um das Mädchen. Sie war genauso wunderschön wie das Mädchen, nicht die frische Unschuld des Teenagers, aber die üppige Reife einer Erwachsenen. Sie hatte ein lose fließendes Sommerkleid an. Es reichte bis zum Oberschenkel und es war oben tief ausgeschnitten und zeigte reichlich Dekolletee. Sie hatte mindestens eine Körbchengröße mehr als der Teenager, wahrscheinlich C.

„Ich bin ein Inspektor“, log ich. „Und ich brauche für meine Arbeit eine gewisse Abgeschiedenheit. Es gibt nichts, worum ihr euch Sorgen machen müsst.“ Beide Frauen entspannten sich. „Ich heiße Mark.“

„Ich heiße Laura“, sagte die Frau mit dem Sommerkleid, „und das ist meine Tochter Melody.“

„Hi“, grüßte auch Melody mit einer lebhaften Stimme. „Ich habe heute Geburtstag. Ich bin sechzehn geworden.“

„Ach wie süß!“ sagte ich. „Nun, dann denke ich, dass ich ein Geburtstagsgeschenk für dich habe.“

Ihre Augen weiteten sich. „Klamotten umsonst!“ kreischte sie und warf ihre Arme um mich. Ihr Körper war warm und ihre kleinen Brüste drückten sich gegen meine Brust. Sie roch nach Flieder. Es war ein schönes Gefühl, so lange es anhielt. Dann machte das Mädchen einen Schritt zurück und errötete.

„Ich muss eure beiden Körper inspizieren, weil ich ein Inspektor für weibliche Körper bin“, sagte ich und nahm damit die allerlahmste Zeile, die ich je auf einem T-Shirt gesehen hatte. „Dafür habe ich auch den Camcorder bei mir. Und ich möchte, dass ihr beide zu einhundert Prozent mitarbeitet. Laura, ich muss deine Brüste sehen.“

Laura nickte und zog sich ihr Sommerkleid über den Kopf. Sie trug einen sexy roten BH aus Spitze und ein dazu passendes rotes durchsichtiges Höschen. „Verdammt, Mama, das ist aber sexy Unterwäsche. Hast du heute Abend mit Tony noch was vor?“ fragte Melody mit einem listigen Grinsen. „An meinem Geburtstag?“

„Vielleicht“, gab Laura zurück. „Du willst doch heute Abend mit deinen Freundinnen ausgehen, oder?“

Ich bemerkte den Ehering an Lauras Finger. „Du nennst deinen Vater Tony?“ fragte ich Melody.

„Meinen Stiefvater“, sagte Melody. „Der ist ganz in Ordnung.“

Laura griff an ihren Rücken und hakten den BH auf. Ihre Titten waren groß und rund und hatten nur ganz leichte Dehnungsstreifen. Sie hatte die größten Brustwarzen, die ich je gesehen hatte. So groß wie ein Silberdollar. „Melody, spiel mit den Nippeln deiner Mama, bis sie hart sind.“

Melodys schlanke Finger streckten sich aus, streichelten die Brustwarze ihrer Mutter und fuhren um das rosafarbene Fleisch herum. Der Nippel versteifte sich. Laura seufzte leise, als die Finger ihrer Tochter über den anderen Nippel glitten. Melody drückte ihre Titte und fuhr dann mit ihren Handflächen in kleinen Kreisen über die Nippel. Als sie damit fertig war, waren beide Frauen vor Erregung sehr erhitzt. Melodys Nippel drückten sich gegen ihre Bluse. Sie waren genauso hart wie die von ihrer Mutter.

„Sehr schön“, sagte ich und filmte sie. „Als nächstes das Höschen.“ Laura schälte sich aus ihrem Höschen. Ein schwarzer dreieckiger Busch Haare wuchs oberhalb der nackten Schamlippen ihrer Muschi. Ein goldener Ring verzierte die Haube ihres Kitzlers. Sehr sexy.

„Verdammt, Mama!“ rief Melody überrascht. „Wann hast du dir denn dein Fötzchen piercen lassen?“

Laura wurde rot. „Nun, ich hatte eine… ziemlich wilde Jugend“, antwortete sie langsam. „Und, äh… Tony spielt gerne mit dem Ring.“

„Okay, Melody, jetzt wollen wir mal sehen, wie du zu deiner Mutter passt.“

Melody grinste. „Ich denke, ich passe ganz gut“, brüstete sie sich. Sie pellte sich aus ihrem Top und zeigte einen scharfen rosafarbenen BH, der schnell dem Shirt auf den Boden folgte. Ihre Brüste waren klein, fest und flott. Sie waren von kleinen rosafarbenen Nippel gekrönt. Als nächstes zog sie sich ihre modischen Schuhe aus und kickte sie zur Seite. Dann wand sie sich aus ihrem Jeansrock heraus. Zuletzt kamen ihre Leggings und ein rosafarbenes Höschen dran. Ihr Arsch war schmal und ihre Beine schlank. Ihre Muschi war eng und glatt rasiert. Ihr Kitzler war hart und schaute zwischen ihren Schamlippen hervor.

„Ihr seid beide wunderschön“, sagte ich und knöpfte meine Hose auf. Dann holte ich meinen halbharten Schwanz heraus.

„Was hast du denn damit vor?“ fragte Melody und schaute nervös meinen Schwanz an.

„Das ist dein Geburtstagsgeschenk“, sagte ich Melody. „Aber du und deine Mama, ihr müsst ihn noch vorbereiten. Fangt also beide an zu lutschen.“

Mutter und Tochter knieten sich vor mir hin. Laura griff nach meinem Schwanz und leckte an der einen Seite nach oben. Melody kopierte ihre Mutter und leckte die andere Seite. Mein Schwanz fing an, hart zu werden, während Mutter und Tochter mit ihren Zungen an meinem Schaft entlangfuhren. Beide kamen zu meiner Eichel und ihre Zungen fuhren über die Spitze. Beide zuckten zurück, als sich ihre Zungen über meinem Schwanz trafen. „Ihr könnt euch ruhig küssen, meine Damen. Ihr habt doch schon lange Lust aufeinander. Ihr dürft diese Lust ruhig zeigen.“

Ihre beiden Münder waren heiß auf meinem Schwanz. Sie küssten mich überall. Laura griff nach vorne und nahm eine der kecken Titten ihrer Tochter in die Hand. Melody stöhnte, als ihre Mutter ihren harten Nippel vorsichtig zwischen ihren Fingern rollte. Laura saugte meine Eichel in ihren nassen und warmen Mund und Melody fing an, die Wange ihrer Mutter zu küssen. Die Lippen des Mädchens fuhren langsam immer tiefer, am Hals ihrer Mutter herunter bis zu ihrem Brustbein. Lauras Lutschen wurde deutlich stärker, als die Lippen ihrer Tochter einen ihrer harten Nippel umschlossen und dann an ihrer Brust lutschte.

„Sind die beiden miteinander verwandt?“ fragte Mary. Sie hatte mehrere Blusen über ihren Arm gelegt. Der Angestellte trug noch mehr davon.

„Ja, Mutter und Tochter“, stöhnte ich, als Laura anfing, ihren Kopf auf meinem Schwanz auf und ab zu bewegen. „Hast du was gefunden, was dir gefällt?“

„Gabe und ich haben ein paar Garnituren ausgesucht“, sagte Mary. „Viel Spaß noch, Liebling.“

Ich küsste sie. „Ich liebe dich!“

„Sogar, wenn eine andere Frau deinen Schwanz im Mund hat?“ fragte Mary schelmisch.

„Nun, sie lutscht meinen Schwanz ziemlich gut“, sagte ich. Dann tat ich so, als würde ich nachdenken. „Ja, sogar mit ihrem Mund an meinem Schwanz.“

„Gut“, antwortete sie mit einem Lächeln und küsste mich. „Komm, Gabe!“ Mary führte den Angestellten zu den Umkleidekabinen im Hintergrund des Ladens.

Ich schaute auf die beiden Frauen hinunter. Melody lutschte fest an der Titte ihrer Mutter. Meine Augen folgten der Linie ihres Rückens bis zu ihrem Arsch. Ich zog meinen Schwanz aus Lauras Mund heraus und kniete mich hinter Melody. Laura warf ihren Kopf in den Nacken und stöhnte. Sie drückte den Kopf ihrer Tochter an ihre Titte. „Oh, du mein süßes Kind“, stöhnte sie. „Das hast du schon so lange nicht mehr gemacht. Das hat mir so gefehlt.“

Ich kniete jetzt hinter Melody und fasste ihre Hüfte an. Ich hob sie ein wenig an, bis sie auf ihren Knien war. Immer noch saugte sie an der Titte ihrer Mutter. „Jetzt kommt dein Geburtstagsgeschenk“, sagte ich und stieß meinen Schwanz in ihre nasse Fotze. Sie war eng, wie ein Schraubstock und so schön warm!

„Oh verdammt!“ keuchte Melody. „Mein Gott, er ist viel größer als Dillon! Er dehnt mein Fötzchen so richtig schön aus, Mami!“

„Herzlichen Glückwunsch zum Geburtstag, Melody“, sagte Laura und streichelte das Gesicht ihrer Tochter. Sie beugte sich nach vorne und küsste die Lippen ihrer Tochter. „Ich habe auch ein Geschenk für dich, mein Vögelchen.“ Laura setzte sich auf den Boden und spreizte vor Melodys Gesicht ihre Beine ganz weit. Lauras Fotze war nass und ihre Schamlippen waren geschwollen und geöffnet. „Leck Mamas Fötzchen!“ Melody senkte ihren Kopf und ihre Zunge fuhr über den Schlitz ihrer Mutter, während ich sie hart in ihr enges Loch fickte.

„Liebling, wie sehe ich aus?“ fragte Mary, während ich Melodys Fotze fickte. Sie war aus der Umkleidekabine gekommen und hatte ein rotes Kleid an, das eng an ihrem Körper anlag. Es hatte Falten direkt unterhalb ihrer Brust und endete oberhalb ihrer Knie. Das Kleid hatte keine Ärmel und keine Träger über der Schulter und zeigte einen ziemlich großen Teil ihrer Brüste mit ihren Sommersprossen.

Ich pfiff anerkennend durch die Zähne. „Du siehst scharf aus“, sagte ich und fickte Melodys enge Fotze dabei immer weiter.

„Du siehst echt süß aus“, stöhnte Laura. „Und du auch, mein kleines Vögelchen! Du siehst so süß aus, wie du Mamas Fotze leckst!“

Melodys Fotze war so eng. Ich hielt mich so lange zurück, wie ich konnte, weil ich sie so lange genießen wollte wie möglich. Und natürlich wollte ich sehen, wie die Schlampe ihrer Mama die tropfende Fotze ausleckte. Mary kam mit weiteren vier Outfits: einer engen Jeans und einer scharfen roten Bluse, einer roten Caprihose mit einem weißen engen Oberteil mit rosafarbenen Blumen, einem transparenten Shirt mit schwarzen Vögeln, durch das man einen schwarzen BH sehen konnte und einem engen rot-weiß gestreiften Kleid mit einem weißen Shirt mit einem V-förmigen Ausschnitt.

Während Mary die verschiedenen Outfits zeigte, hatte Melody Laura zu vier großen Orgasmen gebracht. Lauras Saft floss in den Mund ihrer Tochter. Melody trank den Saft ihrer Mutter wie jemand, der kurz vor dem Verdursten ist. Zweimal verengte sich ihre Fotze um meinen Schwanz, als ich sie zu einem Orgasmus fickte.

„Was meinst du?“ fragte Mary jetzt zum sechsten Mal. Sie drehte sich in einem schwarzen Kleid und es schwang dabei.

Ich sah sie von oben bis unten an. Der Rock war sehr locker, an ihrer Taille gerafft. Das Oberteil klebte wie eine zweite Haut an ihren Brüsten. Das Kleid hatte kurze Ärmel, die kaum ihre Schultern bedeckten und einen rechteckigen Ausschnitt, der beinahe ihren ganzen Busen zeigte. Sie trug ein Mieder, das ihre Brüste anhob. Dadurch sahen sie größer und runder aus. „Gott, bist du schön“, stöhnte ich. Ich konnte mich jetzt nicht länger zurückhalten und schoss jetzt mein Sperma in Melodys enge Fotze. Drei große Schüsse geradewegs in ihre junge Gebärmutter.

Ich zog meinen Schwanz heraus. Mein Sperma sickerte langsam aus ihrem engen Loch heraus. Ich stand auf. Ich ging zu Mary hinüber und nahm sie in den Arm. Ich küsste sie leidenschaftlich. Wir schmusten ein paar Minuten und meine Hand glitt an ihrem Rücken nach unten, um sich durch das Kleid um ihre Arschbacken zu schließen. „Ich glaube, du magst es“, sagte Mary, als wir unseren Kuss beendeten. Sie sah nach unten und verzog das Gesicht. „Natürlich! Jetzt ist die ganze Vorderseite versaut!“ Ich sah auch nach unten. Mein mit Sperma verschmierter Schwanz hatte sich an ihrem Kleid gerieben und den Stoff verschmutzt.

„Gabe, pack Marys Sachen ein und hol ihr ein neues dieser Kleider in ihrer Größe“, sagte ich. „Natürlich, Sir“, sagte Gabe mit seiner nasalen Stimme.

„Das rot-weiße Kleid mit der weißen Bluse nicht“, sagte Mary Gabe, der nickte.

„Ohh, Mama, leck mit die Möse!“ stöhnte Melody. Mary und ich schauten hinüber und sahen Melody auf dem Rücken und ihre Mutter zwischen ihren gespreizten Beinen. Sie holte mein Sperma mit der Zunge aus der Muschi ihrer Tochter heraus. Marys Hand fand meinen Schwanz und sie wichste ihn leicht, während wir beide beobachteten, wie Laura Melodys Fotze ausleckte. Melody wand sich hin und her. Ihre Hände hatten den Kopf ihrer Mutter angefasst. Sie stöhnte ekstatisch. Meine Hand rutschte an Marys Rücken nach unten und ich hob den Saum des Kleides und fuhr mit meiner Hand darunter. Sie hatte kein Höschen an. Ich streichelte ihren Arsch und stieß dann einen Finger in ihr Arschloch. Mary stöhnte und drückte beim Wichsen meinen Schwanz etwas fester.

„Wenn es Melody gekommen ist, nimmst du die Mutter und ich nehme mir die Tochter“, murmelte sie in mein Ohr. Mary hatte meine Gedanken gelesen. Ich nickte.

Melody keuchte laut, während ihre Mutter ihr wie wild die Fotze leckte. „Ich komme gleich! Ich komme gleich! Oh Mama, meine Fotze explodiert gleich!“ Melody wand sich hin und her und zuckte, als der Orgasmus über sie hinweg rollte. Laura leckte den Saft ihrer Tochter auf. Dann kroch sie an ihrem Körper nach oben, um sie sanft auf die Lippen zu küssen.

„Herzlich Glückwunsch zum Geburtstag, mein Vögelchen“, sagte sie leise.

„Danka, Mama“, keuchte Melody. „Das war fantastisch.“ Dann erwiderte sie den Kuss ihrer Mutter.

Mary und ich gingen zu der glücklichen Familie hinüber. „Das war echt geil, Ladies“, sagte ich. „Mare hier möchte Melody auch ein Geschenk machen.“

Melody schaute gierig zu Mary hoch. Laura rollte von ihrer Tochter herunter. Beide waren verschwitzt und erhitzt. Mary zog ihr Kleid über den Kopf und zeigte ihre Kurven. Marys dunkle Augen tranken Marys Körper. „Dein Herz ist richtig süß“, sagte Melody, als sie auf den herzförmigen Haarbusch schaute, der oberhalb von Marys gewachster Muschi stand.

„Danke“, sagte Mary. „Und mir gefällt den Bauchnabelpiercing.“ Mary kniete sich hin und zupfte an Melodys Piercing, einer kleinen Silberkette mit einem kleinen Rubin am Ende. Dann kroch Mary über Melody. Ihre Brüste küssten sich und dann ihre Lippen. Mary ließ ihr Gewicht auf Melodys schmalem Körper ruhen. Melody spreizte ihre Beine und schlang sie um Marys Hüfte. Dann fing Mary an, ihre Hüften rotieren zu lassen und sie drückte ihren Kitzler auf Melodys.

„Oh Scheiße“, murmelte Melody. „Unsere Kitzler berühren sich. Das ist geil!“

„Das ist echt geil, euch beide miteinander zu sehen“, sagte ich Mary. „Ich liebe solche lesbischen Szenen.“

„Ich habe diese Stellung heute mit Joy entdeckt“, keuchte Mary. „Mmmm, fass meinen Arsch an, Melody. Und du darfst mir ruhig einen Finger reinstecken.“ Melodys Hand war an Marys Arschbacken. Mary zuckte heftig mit den Hüften, als Melodys Finger in ihr Arschloch rutschte.

Ich gab Gabe den Camcorder. „Aufnehmen“, befahl ich, als ich Laura bestieg, die ihre Beine einladend weit für mich gespreizt hatte. Laura griff nach meinem Schwanz und führte ihn in ihre nasse Fotze. Ich glitt langsam in sie hinein und genoss dabei die warme Umschlingung. Sie war nicht so eng wie ihre Tochter, aber das Gefühl war trotzdem schön warm und fest. Laura fickte mir ihre Hüften entgegen und passte sich meinem Rhythmus an. Ich küsste sie auf den Hals und sie klammerte sich an meinen Rücken und stöhnte in wortloser Lust. Ich schaute nach links und sah, dass Mary Melody jetzt hart ritt. Beide Mädchen keuchten und stöhnten. Rosafarbene Zungen entdeckten den jeweils anderen Mund und Hände griffen nach festen Brüsten und drückten harte Nippel.

„Ich denke, du hast jetzt herausgefunden, wie zwei Fohlen ficken“, sagte ich Mary.

Mary grinste mich an und stöhnte: „Genau! Und das ist echt gut. Wie ist denn dein Fohlen?“

„Sie ist ein toller Ritt“, stöhnte ich zurück. Ich bemerkte, dass unsere Hände nah beieinander waren und deshalb griff ich hin und streichelte Marys Hand. Sie lächelte mich an und unsere Finger verschränkten sich, während wir beide unsere Fohlen hart fickten. Marys Hintern spannte sich immer wieder an und er wackelte, während sie weiter ihren Kitzler an Melodys rieb.

„Das ist ein tolles Geburtstagsgeschenk“, stöhnte Melody. „Oh verdammt, du machst mich fertig!“ Melody wand sich unter Mary, sie fingerte ihren Arsch und küsste sie auf den Hals, als es ihr kam. Mary schnappte sich ihre Lippen, als sich ihr eigener Körper auf der 16-Jährigen in einem Orgasmus schüttelte.

Ich saugte Lauras großen Nippel in meinen Mund und erkundete den empfindlichen Knopf mit meiner Zunge, während ihre Fotze meinen Schwanz drückte. „Oh Scheiße!“ stöhnte Laura. Ihre Fingernägel kratzten über meinen Rücken, als es ihr unter mir kam.

Ich war auch kurz davor, als ich mich aus ihr herauszog und dann über ihr weiter wichste. Ich spritzte meinen Saft auf ihren Bauch und auf ihre großen Titten. Sie keuchte und mein weißes Sperma lief zähflüssig an ihrem Bauch und an ihren Titten herunter. Mary glitt von Melody herunter und fing an, meinen Saft vom Bauch von Laura abzulecken. Melody kümmerte sich gleichzeitig um mein Sperma auf den Titten ihrer Mutter. Es war wunderschön zuzuschauen, wie Mary mein Sperma von einer anderen Frau ableckte. Ich sah, dass Gabe meinen Schwanz und nicht die Mädchen filmte und zeigte auf die Mädchen.

Laura zog ihre Tochter an sich und küsste ihre Lippen, die noch mit Sperma bedeckt waren. „Danke, Mama“, sagte Melody glücklich. „Das war mein bisher bester Geburtstag.“

Laura lächelte und küsste noch einmal die einladenden Lippen ihrer Tochter. „Im nächsten Jahr müssen wir definitiv wieder die Schule schwänzen!“

Alle zogen sich wieder an. Mary und ich küssten Mutter und Tochter. Ich gab ihnen meine Handynummer und sagte ihnen, dass sie zu Melodys nächstem Geburtstag wieder anrufen sollten, Mary sah in ihrem rot-weiß gestreiften Kleid und in der weißen Bluse fantastisch aus. Ich sagte ihr, dass sie prachtvoll aussah und sie lächelte glücklich. Gabe hatte den Rest von Marys Klamotten in Tüten eingepackt und als wir alle wieder gesellschaftsfähig aussahen, öffnete er den Laden wieder.

„Gabe“, sagte ich beim Hinausgehen. „Gib Melody auch ein Gratisoutfit. Sie hat schließlich heute Geburtstag.“

Gab antwortete in seiner nasalen Stimme: „Natürlich, Sir. Ich habe hier dieses bezaubernde blaue Kleid für dich. Du wirst wunderbar darin aussehen“, sagte er und führte Melody zu den Umkleidekabinen.

„Willst du etwas essen?“ fragte ich Mary. Ich war beinahe verhungert, nachdem ich so unendlich viel gefickt hatte. Marys Bauch rumpelte und sie lachte.

Wir gingen zur Fressmeile und kauften uns etwas zum Essen. Mary nahm eine große Portion Nudeln und ein Stück Pizza, während ich mich am chinesischen Büffet bediente. Wir unterhielten uns, während wir aßen. Wir redeten über die Fernsehshows, die wir mochten und über Bücher und Filme. Es stellte sich heraus, dass Mary Polizeidramen mochte. Sie schaute sie sich alle an. Am liebsten sah sie „Castle und Bones“ und sie liebte „Greys Anatomy“, von dem ich zugeben musste, dass ich das noch nie gesehen hatte. Ich versprach ihr, dass ich mit ihr gemeinsam Greys Anatomy anschauen würde.

Schließlich kamen Bücher dran und es stellte sich heraus, dass wir beide Fantasy und Science Fiction mochten. Das fanden wir beide toll. Ich war durch Tolkien an die Fantasy herangekommen und Mary durch Twilight. Wir sprachen über unsere Lieblingsbücher und gaben jeweils auch Empfehlungen ab. Mary empfahl mir die Trilogie Twilight und ich sagte ihr, dass sie es einmal mit Steven Ericsons „Malazan Book of the Fallen“ versuchen sollte. Als ich auf mein Handy schaute, war ich überrascht, dass wir eine ganze Stunde verbracht hatten, während wir über diese Dinge gesprochen hatten.

Als wir mit dem Essen fertig waren, musste Mary noch mehr einkaufen. Ich nahm die Tüten und Arm in Arm gingen wir durch die Mall. Bei einem der Läden fiel mir ein nuttiges Segeloutfit ins Auge. Es war weiß und blau mit roten Glanzlichtern, hatte ein tief ausgeschnittenes Mieder und einen kurzen gekräuselten Rock. Ich war mir sicher, dass Mary in diesem Kleid geil aussehen würde. Mary sah, wo ich hinschaute und sie lachte.

„Magst du das Kleid?“ fragte sie und ich nickte. „Okay, ich habe eine Idee. Ich gehe rein und suche ein paar verdorben aussehende Sachen für dich aus. Und auch dieses Outfit. Du kannst dich derweil irgendwo amüsieren.“

„Und wie?“ fragte ich.

In ihren Augen war ein verdorbenes Blinzeln. Sie zeigte auf die beiden Verkäuferinnen an der Kasse. Eine war eine Blonde mit kurzem Haar, die ein rosafarbenes gemustertes, sehr kurzes Schulmädchenkleid trug, ein weißes Korsett mit schwarzen Spitzen und weiße Kniestrümpfe. Das andere Mädchen stand hinter der Kasse und trug ein rotes Korsett mit Spitzen an der Vorderseite, das ihre Brüste nach oben drückte. Ihr Haar war schwarz und hatte blaue und purpurfarbene Strähnen. Sie hatte zwei Zöpfchen. Beide Mädchen trugen Lippenstift und hatten mehrere Piercings an den Lippen, an ihren Nasen und in den Augenbrauen.

„Wenn du dich hinter das Mädchen an der Kasse stellst, kannst du sie sicher ficken, ohne dass jemand etwas davon mitbekommt. Heb ihr einfach den Rock hoch und schieb ihr deinen Schwanz rein“, sagte Mary. „Das sollte dich beschäftigen, während die Blonde mir bei meinem Einkauf hilft.“

„Und was ist, wenn sie keinen Rock anhat?“, fragte ich und versuchte, herauszufinden, was sie wirklich trug.

„Dann fickst du eben die Blonde“, antwortete Mary und schüttelte den Kopf, als wäre sie von so viel Dummheit überrascht. „Aber ich möchte wetten, dass sie einen Rock trägt. Und sie ist außerdem groß genug, dass das funktionieren wird.“

„Du hast recht, Mare“, sagte ich und kam mir ein bisschen blöd vor. „Ich finde deine Idee toll.“

„Klar doch“, sagte Mary. „Welcher Mann würde das anders sehen?“

„Gabe“, gab ich zurück.

Mary kicherte. „Okay, also welcher heterosexuelle Mann würde das anders sehen?“

Darauf hatte ich keine Antwort. Ich führte Mary also in den Laden. Mein Schwanz stand schon in meiner Hose. Wir gingen zu den beiden Mädchen, die uns anschauten. „Willkommen“, sagte die Blonde mit einer ziemlich rauchigen Stimme. Aus der Nähe sah ich jetzt, dass die Schwarze wirklich einen Rock trug. Schwarze Netzstrümpfe reichten ihr bis zu den Oberschenkeln. Das ließ sie noch nuttiger aussehen.

„Hi, ich bin Mark und das hier ist Mary“, sagte ich freundlich. „Wie heißt ihr beiden Hübschen denn?“

„Ich heiße Lilian“, antwortete das schwarzhaarige Mädchen. „Und das ist Anne.“

„Anne, ich möchte, dass du Mary beim Einkaufen hilfst“, befahl ich der Blonden. „Du machst alles, was sie will, egal wie merkwürdig dir das vorkommt.“

„Natürlich“, sagte Anne und lächelte mit ihren gepiercten Lippen. Sie nahm Marys Hand und ging mit ihr tiefer in den Laden hinein.

Ich drehte mich zu Lilian, die ein temperamentvolles Lächeln auf ihren schwarzen Lippen hatte. „Und du lässt dich von mir ficken.“

„Natürlich“, schnurrte Lilian.

„Und zwar werden wir gleich hier ficken“, sagte ich. „Ich werde hinter dir stehen und wenn jemand fragt, dann sagst du, dass ich dich ausbilde.“ Sie leckte erregt ihre Lippen und ich stellte mich hinter sie. „Zieh dir dein Höschen aus.“

Lilian griff unter ihren Rock und zog sich ein schwarzes Höschen herunter. Sie stieg aus und hielt es mir ins Gesicht. Ich nahm es und atmete ihren Duft ein, würzig und gleichzeitig süß. Dann steckte ich das Höschen in meine Tasche zu den Höschen von Vivian und Cynthia von heute Morgen aus dem Coffeeshop. Ich machte meinen Reißverschluss auf und zog meinen Schwanz heraus. Ich hob ihren kurzen Rock so weit an, dass ich meinen Schwanz darunter bekommen konnte. Der spitzenbesetzte Saum ihres Rockes fühlte sich auf meinem Schwanz angenehm kühl an. Dann fand ich ihr heißes nasses Loch.

Wir stöhnten beide, als ich langsam in ihre warme Tiefe glitt. Ihre Mösenwände massierten meinen Schwanz. Ich stieß innen an und mein Schwanz drückte sich gegen ihren Muttermund. Sie atmete tief ein und bewegte ihre Hüften, während ich anfing, sie zu ficken. Ich konnte nur kurze Stöße ausführen. Leute strömten am Eingang des Ladens vorbei und hatten keine Ahnung, dass hier, kaum fünf Meter von ihnen entfernt, gerade ein Paar fickte.

Die Schule musste zu Ende sein, denn ein Paar kichernder Schülerinnen stolperte in den Laden. Ich hörte auf, Lilian zu ficken und blieb bis zum Anschlag in ihr stecken. Lilian atmete heftig und drückte meinen Schwanz mit ihrer Fotze. Eines der Mädchen kam zu uns, um ein Halsband zu kaufen. Sie war ganz süß, vielleicht fünfzehn Jahre alt, hatte eine tief geschnittene Bluse an und kleine Titten. Sie legte ihre Arme auf den Tresen und ich konnte in ihre Bluse schauen. Sie trug keinen BH und ich konnte einen kurzen Blitz eines rosafarbenen Nippels erkennen, als sie sich ein wenig bewegte. Das war zu viel für mich. Ich biss die Zähne aufeinander und es kam mir hart in Lilians Möse.

Lilian keuchte und das Schulmädchen schaute uns verwirrt an. „Geht es ihnen gut?“ fragte sie.

„Sehr gut“, sagte Lilian, als ein zweiter Strahl meines Spermas sie anfüllte. „Ich habe eine dicke Wurst gegessen und die füllt mich ganz und gar aus!“ Lilian presste meinen Schwanz mit ihrer Möse zusammen und wackelte mit ihren Hüften.

„Okay“, murmelte das Mädchen und gab Lilian einen Zwanziger. Lilian fummelte mit dem Wechselgeld herum und dann ging das Mädchen mit seiner Freundin weiter. Mein Schwanz war nicht weich geworden und ich fickte Lilian einfach weiter.

„Scheiße, das war geil!“ keuchte Lilian.

Das zweite Mal, dass es mir in Lilian kam, war, als dieses nuttig angezogene Mädchen mit rosafarbenem Haar in den Laden schlenderte. Sie trug einen zerfetzten Rock aus blassviolettem und weißem Stoff, der kaum ihren Arsch bedeckte und ein enges T-Shirt, das sich über ihren Titten spannte und es war klar, dass sie keinen BH anhatte. Ihre Nippel waren hart und durch den dünnen Stoff des T-Shirts klar zu erkennen. Auf beiden Seiten ihrer Nippel waren weitere Abdrücke zu erkennen und ich brauchte ein wenig, um zu verstehen, dass ihre Brustwarzen gepierct waren. Das Shirt war rosa und trug den Aufdruck „Daddys little Girl“ quer über der Brust. Das Wort „Girl“ war ausgestrichen und durch „Slut“ ersetzt.

Lilian rieb sich mit einer Hand ihren Kitzler und sie war kurz davor zu kommen, als das Mädchen hereinkam. Sie musste schnell ihre Hand wegnehmen. Das Mädchen bemerkte die Bewegung, grinste dreckig und blinzelte Lilian zu. Sie hatte sich nicht irreführen lassen. Sie kam zum Tresen herüber und atmete tief ein. Wir rochen beide nach Sex und Sperma und ihr Lächeln zeigte, dass sei genau wusste, was hier vorging. „Was macht ihr denn da?“

„Ausbildung“, stotterte Lilian.

„Schlampen-Ausbildung?“ fragte das Mädchen mit einem Grinsen.

„Genau!“ stöhnte Lilian, als ich anfing, sie weiter zu ficken. „Ich bin ein solche Nutte!“

Lilian wollte ihre Hand wieder an ihren Kitzler bringen, wurde aber von dem Mädchen aufgehalten. „Lass mich dir helfen.“ Das Mädchen griff über den Tresen hinweg und ihre Finger landeten unter Lilians Rock. Ich spürte ihre Finger an meinem Schwanz, der in Lilians Fotze fuhr, bevor sie anfing, Lilians Kitzler zu streicheln und zu reiben. Lilian keuchte und ihre Fotze zog sich auf meinem Schwanz heftig zusammen, als es ihr kam.

„Verdammt!“ stöhnte Lilian. „Ich war so geil. Es ist mir genau dann gekommen, als du mich angefasst hast!“

Das Mädchen lachte und leckte sich Lilians Mösensaft von den Fingern. Ich fickte hart in Lilian hinein und schoss ihr eine zweite Ladung hinein, als ich sah, wie das Mädchen Lilians Saft ableckte. Ich stöhnte und atmete schwer auf Lilians Hals. Das Mädchen fuhr mit seiner Zunge langsam über seine vollen Lippen. Sie hatte ein silbernes Piercing in ihrer Zunge. „Wie ist denn ihre Ausbildung so? Hat sie deine Erwartungen erfüllt?“

„Sie ist ein Naturtalent“, stöhnte ich, als Lilian wiederum anfing, meinen Schwanz mit ihren Mösenmuskeln zu massieren. „Sie gibt sich ungeheure Mühe, ihre Kunden zu befriedigen. Und das ist sehr wichtig.“ Aus dem Hintergrund des Ladens hörte ich gedämpften Stöhnen und ich fragte mich, was Mary und Anne wohl gerade machten. Wahrscheinlich hatte Anne gerade ihre Zunge in Marys Fotze.

Das Mädchen kicherte verdorben. „Ich wollte immer schon mal hier arbeiten. Kannst du mir auch eine Ausbildung geben?“

Heilige Scheiße! Dieses Mädchen wollte sich von mir ficken lassen, ohne dass ich das anordnete. Ich konnte es nicht glauben. Ich war so erregt und Lilians Fotze fühlte sich so warm und eng an, während sie meinen Schwanz noch massierte, dass ich ihr eine dritte Ladung in die Fotze schoss. Keuchend sagte ich: „Natürlich. Aber ich muss erst noch ein Bewerbungsgespräch mit dir führen:“

„Natürlich“, sagte sie und nickte ernsthaft.

„Wie heißt du?“ fragte ich. „Und wie alt bist du?“

„Allison Hertz“, antwortete sie. „Und ich bin siebzehn.“

„Nun, Allison, zieh dein Höschen aus und lass mich sehen, mit was für einer Art von Muschi ich gleich arbeiten werde.“

„Ich habe gar kein Höschen an“, gab Allison zu. Sie hob die Vorderseite ihres Rockes an. Ihre Muschi war glatt rasiert. Ihr Schlitz war eng und ihr Saft glänzte auf ihren Schamlippen. Oberhalb ihrer Muschi hatte sie ein Tattoo: „Komm hier rein“. Ein kleiner roter Pfeil zeigte auf ihren Kitzler.

„Wie hast du die Erlaubnis deiner Eltern für dieses Tattoo bekommen?“ Allison leckte ihre Lippen. „Hab ich gar nicht. Ich habe den Tätowierer hier reinkommen lassen und habe dafür das Tattoo geschenkt bekommen.“

„Und die Piercing in deinen Nippeln? Ist er dafür auch gekommen?“ Sie schüttelte den Kopf. „Nein, dafür musste ich eine Möse lecken.“

„Okay, du hast den Job“, sagte ich.

Allison kam hinter den Tresen und zog die Rückseite ihres Rocks hoch und zeigte mir ihren festen Arsch. Ich zog mich aus Lilians Fotze zurück und stellte mich hinter Allison. Ich musste ein wenig in die Knie gehen, aber ich schaffte meinen Schwanz in Allisons enge Fotze hinein. Lilian stand zwischen uns und dem Eingang und verdeckte damit das, was Allison und ich gerade taten. So konnte ich sie schön hart und schnell ficken.

„Fick die Schlampe“ drängte Lilian mich. Sie hob ihren schwarzen Rock mit einer Hand hoch und spielte mit der anderen an ihrer verschleimten Fotze. Lilian brachte ihre klebrigen Finger an ihren Mund und Allison schob ihre Hand zwischen Lilians Beine und schob ihr zwei Finger in die Fotze. „Du versautes kleines Biest“, stöhnte Lilian. „Das fühlt sich gut an!“

„Du bist so nass“, stöhnte Allison. Dann lehnte sie sich vor und küsste Lilian. „Oh Gott, fick mich, du Hengst!“ zischte Allison, als sie mit dem Kuss fertig war. „Mir kommt es gleich!“ Ich fickte sie fester und ihre Fotze verkrampfte sich höchst angenehm auf meinem Schwanz, als es ihr laut kam. Sie zog sie Aufmerksamkeit einer Kundin der Mall auf sich, einer mittelalten Frau, die einen konservativen blauen Hosenanzug trug.

Als die Frau in den Laden kam, fragte ich mich, wie ich wohl weitermachen könnte. Ich zog mich vorsichtig und ganz langsam aus Allison zurück. Ich bewegte mich so wenig wie möglich und schob meinen Schwanz leicht oberhalb zwischen ihre Arschbacken. Dann drückte ich meinen Schwanz langsam in ihr Arschloch. Allison versteifte sich und keuchte. „Geht es Ihnen gut, meine Liebe?“ fragte die Frau. Sie schaute auf den erhitzten Teenager, während mein Schwanz immer tiefer in Allisons Arsch eindrang.

„Es geht mir gut“, keuchte Allison. „Ich bekomme gerade eine Ausbildung.“

Die Frau schaute uns sehr kritisch an. Mein Schwanz erreichte seine größte Tiefe in Allisons Arschloch. Es war eng und heiß. Allison bewegte sich ein wenig, um sich an meinen Schaft in ihrem Arsch zu gewöhnen. „Sind Sie sicher, meine Liebe?“

„Oh ja“, keuchte Allison, als ich anfing, meinen Schwanz langsam zurückzuziehen. „Er ist ein toller Ausbilder, nicht wahr Lilian?“

Lilian leckte ihre Lippen. „Oh ja! Er kommt ständig, um sicherzustellen, dass wir gut ausgebildet sind.“

Diese Unterhaltung war zu viel für mich und ich kam in Allisons Arsch, als ich meinen Schwanz wieder hinein schob. Ich seufzte tief auf. „Ihr drei seid widerliche Perverse“, sagte die Frau schrill. „Ich werde die Security alarmieren!“

„Nein, das wirst du nicht tun“, sagte ich ihr. „Du kommst hier her und leckst Allison mein Sperma aus dem Arsch, weil du so eine neugierige Bitch bist. Und hör nicht auf zu lecken, bis es ihr kommt!“

Die Frau sah schuldbewusst aus. Sie ging hinter den Tresen und fiel hinter Allison auf die Knie. Sie hob Allisons Rock an, spreizte ihre Arschbacken und legte ein braunes blinzelndes Loch frei, aus dem weißes Sperma heraus sickerte. Die Frau legte gierig ihre Lippen auf Allisons Arschloch und sie fing an zu saugen und zu lecken. „Oh verdammt!“ sagte Allison. „Du bist echt ein perverser Kerl!“

Mein Schwanz war von Allisons Arsch schmutzig, also hob ich Lilians Rock hoch. Ihre nasse Möse würde ihn schon sauber machen. Ich stieß ihr meinen Schwanz in die nasse Möse und ich fickte sie langsam. Ich sah zu Allison hinüber und fragte: „Wolltest du jemals eine Sex-Sklavin sein?“

„Oh ja!“ keuchte sie. „Ich liebe es, wenn ein Kerl mir sagt, was ich tun soll!“

„Aha, ich bin nicht überrascht, dass du noch ein anderes Mädchen gefunden hast, mit dem du dich amüsierst“, sagte Mary, als sie und eine sehr derangierte Anne wieder in den vorderen Bereich des Ladens kamen. Annes Lippen waren mit Mösensaft verschmiert und sie trug einige Tüten mit Kleidung.

„Das ist Allison“, sagte ich ihr, während Lilian stöhnte. „Allison, das ist meine Freundin Mary.“

„Ich freue mich, deine Bekanntschaft zu machen“, keuchte Allison.

„Allison wird von heute an unsere Sex-Sklavin sein“, sagte ich Mary. Sie hob eine Augenbraue. „Allison, du wirst alles tun, egal wie versaut oder pervers es dir vorkommt, solange Mary oder ich es dir sagen.“

„Absolut“ platzte Allison heraus. „Das klingt wundervoll! Danke, Meister. Danke, Herrin. Ich werde die beste Sex-Sklavin aller Zeiten sein.“

„Nun, sie ist jedenfalls so angezogen“, sagte Mary, als sei den Aufdruck auf Allisons Shirt las. „Und wer leckt ihr gerade den Arsch aus?“

„Irgend so eine prüde Bitch. Sie wird deine Kleider bezahlen, nicht wahr?“ Zwischen Allisons festen Arschbacken klang ein gedämpftes „Ja“.

Ich bückte mich, um die Börse der prüden Bitch zu nehmen. Beinahe fiel ich dabei um und mein Schwanz rutschte aus Lilians warmer Fotze heraus. Aber ich erwischte sie und ich steckte Lilian meinen Schwanz wieder rein. Ich öffnete die Geldbörse und fand eine Kreditkarte. Ich gab sie Lilian, damit sie den Einkauf buchen konnte. Außerdem fand ich hundert Dollar in Bargeld. Ich steckte das Geld in meine Tasche und warf die Börse auf den Boden. Lilian fummelte an der Kasse herum und konnte sich kaum konzentrieren, während ich sie weiter fickte. Allison kam mit einem kleinen Schaudern und unter Stöhnen eine Minute später. Die prüde Bitch griff ihre Geldbörse und floh, beinahe stolperte sie dabei.

„Allison, wo wohnst du?“ fragte ich.

„Ich wohne bei meinem Vater“, antwortete sie. „Meine Mama ist gestorben, als ich noch ganz klein war.“

„Ruf deinen Vater an“, sagte ich. „Ich muss mit ihm reden.“

Sie holte ihr Handy heraus und rief an. „Hi Papa“, sagte sie in das Telefon. „Mein Meister muss mit dir reden!“

Ich nahm das Telefon und hörte, wie ihr Vater fragte: „Meister? Wovon redest du, meine Kleine?“

„Ich bin der Meister deiner Tochter“, sagte ich in das Telefon. „Sie wird meine Sexsklavin sein und bei mir leben. Ich werde sie in jedes Loch ficken, das sie hat und sie auch überall besamen: Muschi, Arsch und Mund. Du wirst dir keine Sorgen um sie machen, die Polizei informieren oder nach ihr suchen. Sie wird kein Leid erfahren.“ Ich gab Allison das Telefon zurück. „Sag deinem Vater, was ich mit dir gemacht habe.“

„Hey, Papa“, sagte Allison. Meine Eier zogen sich zusammen und ich war kurz davor, ein viertes Mal in Lilians Fotze zu spritzen. „Ich habe so viel Spaß mit meinem Meister. Er hat mich hinter der Kasse in die Fotze gefickt. Es war irre. Ich bin so hart gekommen, Papa. Dann kam so eine Frau rein. Sie argwöhnte etwas bei uns. Aber mein Meister hat sich nicht irritieren lassen. Er hat mit stattdessen seinen Schwanz in den Arsch gesteckt und mir seinen Saft in den Po gespritzt, während diese prüde Bitch zugeschaut hat. Das war total geil, Papa.“ Dieser kleinen Schlampe zuzuhören, wie sie ihrem Vater all diese Sachen ins Telefon stöhnte, war auch total geil Ich stöhnte und schoss Lilian tatsächlich meine Ladung in die Fotze. „Papa, und dann hat er die Frau sein Sperma aus meinem Arsch lutschen lassen. Dabei bin ich dann noch einmal gekommen.“

Ich zog meinen Schwanz aus Lilian heraus. Er war nass und tropfte. „Schlampe, beende das Gespräch und mach deinem Meister den Schwanz sauber“, befahl Mary. Damit überraschte sie mich.

„Keine Sorge, Papa. Ich bin für meinen Meister und für meine Herrin bestimmt die allerbeste Sex-Sklavin, die es jemals gab“, sagte Allison in ihr Telefon. „Ich muss jetzt Schluss machen, Papa. Der Schwanz von meinem Meister ist mit Mösensaft und Sperma bedeckt und meine Herrin möchte, dass ich ihn sauber mache. Ich liebe dich, Papa.“ Damit fiel Allison auf die Knie und leckte den ganzen Saft von meinem Schwanz.

„Nimm unsere Tüten, Schlampe“, sagte Mary, als ich meinen Schwanz wieder in meiner Hose verstaute. Allison nahm sich alle unsere Tüten. „Du gehst hinter uns.“

„Ja, Herrin“, sagte Allison und lächelte.

Allison ging hinter Mary und mir her, als wir durch die Mall gingen. „Diese Sklavensache scheint dir ganz gut zu gefallen“, sagte ich zu Mary.

„Nun, meine ältere Schwester Shannon hat mich und Missy immer rumgeschubst“, erklärte Mary. „Und ich habe das gehasst.“

„Dann ist das hier also so eine Art von Revanche an einer Vertreterin?“ Mary nickte. „Du könntest aber auch eine echte Revanche haben. Du musst es nur sagen. Shannon könnte deine eigene Sklavin sein.“

Mary wurde rot. „Meine eigene Schwester!“ flüsterte sie.

„Meinetwegen auch nicht. Ich bin mehr als glücklich mit Allison.“

Mary biss sich auf die Lippe. „Du würdest aber nie, du weißt schon, mit meiner Schwester rummachen?“

„Nur wenn du das erlaubst“, sagte ich. „Das verspreche ich dir.“

Sie lächelte dankbar. „Ich danke dir.“

Mary führte uns zu Victorias Secret. „Ich möchte gerne eine Modeling Show für dich machen“, sagte Mary, als wir den Laden betraten. „Die Schlampe hier kann helfen.“

„Das würde ich gerne tun, Herrin.“

Mary arrangierte alles, nachdem ich den Verkäuferinnen gesagt hatte, dass sie ihr zuhören sollten. Die Kundinnen wurden schnell aus dem Laden geschickt und dann schlossen die Verkäuferinnen den Laden ab. Mary und Allison schauten mit der Unterstützung der beiden die Regale durch. Die Verkäuferinnen waren zwei Schönheiten mit Namen Aurora und Heather. Aurora war die jüngere der beiden, achtzehn Jahre alt, ihr Haar war dunkelblau gefärbt, sie hatte große Brüste, die in ihrer tief ausgeschnittenen Spitzenbluse wie in einer Auslage lagen. Sie trug eine hautenge Bluejeans. Auf der Rückseite konnte man das obere Ende eines roten Strings sehen. Heather war älter, fast dreißig, aber sie war nicht weniger schön als Aurora. Sie hatte hellblondes Haar, das in Locken über ihre Schultern fiel, strahlend blaue Augen, ein Puppengesicht und ein Paar große runde Titten, die ihre graue Seidenbluse von innen spannten. Ihr schwarzer enger Minirock schmiegte sich über ihre wohlgerundeten Hüften und ihren hübschen Arsch.

Mary ließ ein Sofa vor den Umkleideräumen aufstellen und setzte mich in die Mitte. Die beiden Verkäuferinnen mussten für mich einen Striptease machen, während Allison das mit meinem Camcorder aufnahm. Beide machten wohl zum ersten Mal einen Strip und es gab auch keine Musik, aber das Ganze war trotzdem sehr sexy. Beide Mädchen wackelten mit ihren Ärschen vor meinem Gesicht, als sie sich ihre Oberteile auszogen. Heather hatte keinen BH an und ihr rechter Nippel war mit einem goldenen Ring gepierct. Aurora hatte einen BH ohne Schulterträger an, der kaum ihre Brustwarzen verdeckte und ihre großen Brüste anhob. Als sie den BH ausgezogen hatte, rieb sie diese großen fleischigen Titten in mein Gesicht. Sie roch nach Lavendel und nach Rosen und ich lutschte einen braunen Nippel in meinen Mund, bevor sie wegtanzte.

Als Heathers Minirock herunter kam, war ich nicht überrascht, dass sie kein Höschen trug. Ihre Fotze war rasiert und sie glänzte. Ich fragte mich, warum sie wohl kein Höschen trug, obwohl sie in diesem Geschäft für Unterwäsche arbeitete. Aurora kam nur sehr schwer aus ihrer Hose heraus, weil sie so eng war. Heather musste ihr helfen. Der rote String ging wesentlich schneller. Beide Mädchen tanzten jetzt nackt vor mir und rieben sich aneinander. Dann lachten sie und setzten sich zu meinen beiden Seiten auf das Sofa.

Mary nahm den Camcorder und stellte ihn auf eines der Regale. Sie richtete ihn so ein, dass er einen guten Überblick über das Sofa und den Eingang zu den Umkleideräumen hatte. Dann verschwanden sie und Allison mit der Unterwäsche in den Umkleideräumen. Heather und Aurora fischten meinen Schwanz aus meiner Hose und fingen an, ihn zu wichsen, während ich mit beiden abwechselnd schmuste. Ich lutschte gerade an Auroras Titten, als Mary und Allison herauskamen. Beide sahen fantastisch aus.

Zuerst kam Mary in einem halterlosen BH. Die Körbchen bestanden aus feiner lila Spitze. Dazu trug sie ein passendes lila Höschen, das mit Spitze abgesetzt war. Ein lila Strumpfhalter hielt lila Strümpfe, die ihr bis zu den Oberschenkeln reichten. Sie ging vor uns her, als bewegte sie sich auf einem Laufsteg. Dann drehte sie sich um ihre eigene Achse, damit wir auch wirklich alles sehen konnten. Wir drei auf der Couch klatschten und sagten ihr, wie sexy sie war. Dann kam Allison mit einem cremefarbigen Bustier mit schwarzer Spitze. Dazu trug sie ein passendes Höschen und einfache weiße Strümpfe, die von einem Strumpfhalter gehalten wurden. Allisons Gang war etwas aggressiver verglichen mit dem von Mary. Heather, Aurora und ich pfiffen und klatschten.

Kichernd gingen Mary und Allison wieder nach hinten, um sich die nächsten Outfits anzuziehen. Ich drückte Heather auf den Boden und sie saugte meinen Schwanz in ihren Mund, warm und nass. Ihre Zähne strichen vorsichtig über meine Eichel. Aurora fing an, mich zu küssen, ihre Zunge bewegte sich in meinem Mund und ich griff nach ihrer schweren Titte und rollte ihren dicken Nippel zwischen meinen Fingern. Nachdem mein Schwanz von Heathers Speichel gut nass war, ließ sie ihn aus ihrem Mund rutschen und legte ihre großen Brüste um meinen Schwanz. Sie drückte sie zusammen und fing an, sie an meinem Schaft auf und ab zu bewegen. Bei jeder Abwärtsbewegung küsste sie dabei meine Eichel und umschmeichelte sie mit ihrer nassen Zunge.

Mary und Allison kam in ihren nächsten Outfits heraus. Mary trug ein Ensemble aus grauer Spitze, ihre dunklen Brustwarzen waren durch die Spitze deutlich sichtbar. Der String bestand nur aus Strängen grauer Spitze, die kaum ihre Muschi bedeckten. Sie sah so geil aus, dass ich stöhnte und mich über Heathers Gesicht und Titten entlud. Heather keuchte überrascht und leckte sich mein Sperma von den Lippen.

„Steh da nicht einfach nur so rum, Schlampe“, bellte Mary und schlug fest auf Allisons Arsch. „Leck das Sperma von meinem Meister von dieser Hure runter!“

„Ja, Herrin“, sagte Allison. Sie flog geradezu durch den Raum, damit sie schnell meinen Saft von Heathers großen Brüsten und von ihrem Gesicht ablecken konnte. Allison hatte ein schwarzes Babydoll an, das mit rosafarbener Spitze gesäumt war. Dazu hatte sie ein passendes durchsichtiges schwarzes Höschen angezogen.

Mary schlug noch einmal auf Allisons Arsch. „Gute kleine Schlampen lecken immer sofort das Sperma von ihrem Meister auf. Egal, wo sie es finden!“

„Natürlich, Herrin!“ sagte Allison, als Mary ihr zum dritten Mal auf den Arsch schlug.

Mary ging in den Umkleideraum zurück, während Allison sich weiter um Heathers Titten und Gesicht kümmerte. Allison verwendete viel Zeit darauf, sicherzustellen, dass Heathers Brustwarzen und Nippel auch wirklich sauber waren. Aurora fing an, langsam meinen Schwanz zu wichsen, während wir beide zuschauten, wie meine kleine Schlampe ihrer Pflicht nachkam. Als mein Schwanz wieder hart war, rutschte sie nach unten und nahm ihn in den Mund. Allison musste irgendwie auch auf Heathers Muschi Sperma gefunden haben, weil sie ihr jetzt glücklich die Fotze leckte. Ich war mir zwar nicht sicher, ob da wirklich mein Sperma hingespritzt war, aber es störte mich nicht weiter, weil sich im Moment sowieso Aurora um mich kümmerte.

Marys drittes Outfit bestand aus einem sexy Babydoll in pink. Ein Mieder in pink hielt ihre Brüste und loser Stoff fiel über ihren Bauch bis direkt oberhalb eines pinkfarbenen Spitzenhöschens. Sie sah so unschuldig aus wie ein Schulmädchen und gleichzeitig so sexy wie eine Stripperin. Sie ging vor uns hin und her und ich pfiff ihr nach. „Gott, du bist wunderschön“, stöhnte ich, als Aurora meinen Schwanz tief in ihren Hals nahm.

„Danke.“ Mary setzte sich zu mir auf das Sofa und spreizte ihre Beine. „Schlampe, leck mir die Muschi!“

„Ja, Herrin“, sagte Allison. Sie entfernte sich von Heathers Muschi und schob Marys Höschen zur Seite, um in ihre nasse Fotze einzutauchen. Sie leckte geräuschvoll. Heather stöhnte enttäuscht und fing dann wie wild an zu masturbieren.

Mary umarmte mich und wir küssten uns, während unsere beiden Schlampen jeweils Oralsex mit uns machten. Meine Hand fand ihre Titte in die weiche Seide eingehüllt und ich rieb und drückte. Mary und ich kamen gleichzeitig. Wir hatten uns im Arm und füllten die Münder unserer Huren mit Sperma und Mösensaft. Etwas von meinem Sperma lief aus Auroras Mund heraus und Allison verschwendete keine Zeit, es ihr gleich aus dem Gesicht zu lecken. Ich zog Mary auf meinen Schoß und ihre Beine lagen über meinen Hüften. Der weiche Stoff ihres Höschens rieb kühl an meinem Schwanz, während ich mir ihre Lippen zu einem Kuss heranholte.

Ich schaute tief in Marys smaragdgrüne Augen, als sie den Schoß ihres Höschens zur Seite zog und ihre Fotze auf meinen Schwanz senkte. „Ich liebe dich“, stöhnte sie und fickte mich langsam. Ich zog ihr das Mieder herunter und saugte eine ihrer Titten gierig in meinen Mund. Ich fasste ihre Arschbacken an und spürte, wie sich die Muskeln unter meinen Fingern bewegten, während sie sich auf meinem Schwanz bewegte. Ihre Arme hielten meinen Kopf an ihren Brüsten fest. Ich lutschte an ihrem Nippel und an ihrer Brustwarze.

Marys Hüften fingen an, sich schneller zu bewegen. Sie fing an zu keuchen. Die Wände ihrer Fotze waren wie Feuer an meinem Schwanz. „Komm gleichzeitig mit mir, Mare“, flüsterte ich und schaute zu ihr hoch. Unsere Stirne pressten sich aneinander. „Komm gleichzeitig mit mir!“

„Ja, ja“, keuchte Mary. Sie fickte mich jetzt hart und schnell. Ihre Hüften rotierten, während sie sich auf meinem Schwanz bewegte. Sie drückte ihren Kitzler gegen mein Schambein. „Oh Gott, ich bin da!“ Ihre Fotze klammerte meinen Schwanz und sie setzte sich flach auf meinen Schoß. Mein Schwanz stand an ihrem Muttermund an, als sie auf mir kam. Ihre Lippen fanden meine und wir küssten uns, während ich meinen Samen tief in sie hinein spritzte und einen kleinen perfekten Augenblick waren wir eins.

Mary saß auf meinem Schwanz und küsste mich. Sie atmete meine Seele, während wir uns in den Nachwehen unserer Orgasmen festhielten. Hinter ihr stöhnten die Mädchen und sie keuchten, während sie sich gegenseitig fickten. Sie schrien, wenn es ihnen kam. Sie leckten nasse Fotzen und lutschten an harten Nippeln. Schließlich stieg Mary von mir ab und ließ sich auf die Couch fallen. Ihre Beine waren gespreizt und mein Sperma sickerte durch den Stoff ihres Höschens nach draußen. Innerhalb von Sekunden war Allison bei uns und leckte das Sperma von meinem Schwanz und aus Marys Fotze heraus, während wir beide uns auf der Couch entspannten. Wir sahen zu, wie Heather und Aurora einen 69er machten und sich gegenseitig genossen.

„Ich liebe dich“, flüsterte ich Mary zu. Ich küsste meine Liebste, während unsere Schlampe mein Sperma aus ihrer Fotze lutschte.

To be continued …

Click here for Kapitel 5

Der Pakt mit dem Teufel Kapitel 3: Dienst am Kunden

 

 

Der Pakt mit dem Teufel

Kapitel 3: Dienst am Kunden

Von mypenname3000

Übersetzt von Horem

© Copyright 2013, 2014


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

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

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



Click here for Kapitel 2



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Schalte das System ein.“

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

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

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

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

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

„Sicher, Oscar“, stimmte Jessie ihm.

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

Sie nickte. „Einfach in das Telefon sprechen.“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Bastard!“ zischte Erin.

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

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

„Ich versuch‘s ja!“ sagte Bill.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Leck mich!“ rief Bill.

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

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

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

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

„Anders“, sagte er.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Sorry“, murmelte Bill.

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

„Nein“, antwortete Bill.

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

„Wirklich, Erin?“ fragte Bill zögernd.

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

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

„Das ist schmutzig!“ protestierte er.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Marge!“ protestierte Tony aus meinem Auto heraus.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Bist du deswegen so spät?“

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Gott, ja!“

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

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

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

„Vielleicht…“ sagte sie mit einem Lächeln.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ich musste noch einmal kommen.

To be continued…

Click here for Kapitel 4

Der Pakt mit dem Teufel Kapitel 2: Der Salon

 

 

Der Pakt mit dem Teufel

Kapitel 2: Der Salon

Von mypenname3000

Übersetzt von Horem

© Copyright 2013, 2014


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

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

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



Click here for Kapitel 1



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Verdorben?“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Antsy? Das ist aber ein merkwürdiger Name.“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Und wo gehst du ins College?“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Hier kommt es, Mare!“ stöhnte er.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Wie heißt du?“ wollte er wissen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joy nickte. „Okay Miss.“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Ich dachte, du wärest keine Lesbe?“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Click here for Kapitel 3

The Devil’s Pact Chapter 34: The Whore of Babylon

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Chapter 34: The Whore of Babylon

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2013, 2014


Story Codes: Male/Teen female, Male/Female, Hermaphrodite/Female, Mind Control, Magic, Anal, Ass to Mouth, Rimming, Oral, Pregnant, Toy, Female Masturbation, First, Sadism, Violence, 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.



Click here for Chapter 33.



Monday, July 22nd, 3:27 AM – Babylon Residence, Seattle, WA
“Push, Karen!” Chantelle shouted as she gripped my hands.

I was confused, in pain. I had been in labor for nearly a day and I was so tired. The last few weeks had been a blur as I drifted in and out of consciousness. I didn’t know where I was or, more importantly, where Master and Mistress were. I was being cared for by Lana and Chantelle, the missing sex slaves, in a strange house. Whenever I felt strong enough to ask, the women would deflect my questions, or tell me I just missed Master or Mistress. I was scared, the pregnancy was going too fast and I was too weak to do anything. I had hazy memories of Willow telling me Lilith’s child grew inside me.

“Master!” I shouted desperately. “Mistress, I need you, please!” The contraction came on me in a wave of pain and I pushed, straining with every fiber of my being to deliver my child.

“I can see the head,” Lana said encouragingly. “One more push, Karen, you’re doing so well.”

I took a deep breath, my head swimming. I was so weak. I concentrated, felt the next contraction come upon me, squeezing my insides, and I screamed and pushed. The pain was so much I thought I was going to die. “Master!” I cried out. And then the baby was out and I could hear a loud, healthy cry and I relaxed and everything started to grow black. I was so tired. But the child was delivered, I could rest now. My eyelids were so heavy and I didn’t fight them, I was just too tired, and allowed myself to drift away.

I was drifting, drifting, drifting.

Off into the darkness.

When I awoke, I was surrounded by a gray mist on gray stone.

What was going on? I stood up. The pain, the fatigue, were all gone. I didn’t feel anything. I peered around; in every direction I could just see more oppressive mist. “Hello!” I called, hoping someone would hear me.

Nothing.

I whirled about, straining to see something in the vast fog. But there was nothing. Just gray mist, swirling in strange eddies. I shouted again, wondering if I was dreaming? Maybe I should start walking? But where, there’s nothing here. I turned slowly around, trying to find something to point my way when I noticed some movement out of the corner of my eye. I turned quickly to my right, straining to see. There was something there. Was it just the mist swirling? I frowned, watching the pattern. No, there was something dark forming in the mist. The something resolved into a vaguely human form. I took a deep breath and started walking forward, towards the figure.

“Chasity?” I asked as the mists parted, exposing the blonde woman. She was naked, her round breasts jiggling as she walked. A sad smile was on her face.

“I’m sorry, Karen,” Chasity said as she hugged me. Her body was warm against mine. I hugged my sister-slut back, fiercely, enjoying the feel of her breasts on mine.

“What are you sorry for?” I asked as she broke the hug.

“You’re dead, Karen.”

I blinked. “What?” That can’t be possible. I just went to sleep. Right?

Chasity grabbed my hand and led me into the mist. “We’re waiting over here.”

“Waiting for what?”

“Master and Mistress,” Chasity answered. “When they die, we will be reunited with them. Until then, all we can do is wait and watch over them.”

There were six other women waiting and each of them hugged me warmly and kissed my lips gently. We were all sisters, here, and I sat down with them to watch and wait. It wasn’t so bad. I had company, very pleasant company I realized, as a woman with dirty-blonde hair and green eyes nuzzled at my breasts. And one day I would be reunited with those I loved again. Smiling, I laid my head in Chasity’s lap as the blonde bodyguard kissed her way down to my pussy.

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

Monday, July 22nd, 5:31 AM – Kurtz Farm, Madison, WI
I stood in a pasture, awaiting sunrise.

Today, Brandon, today, you will finally have the power to destroy Mark Glassner and rescue Desiree. I spent all day Sunday feverishly reading Professor Scrivener’s translation of the Magicks of the Witch of Endor. I hadn’t slept in two days but I didn’t even feel tired. I was too excited. The day had finally come. Everything had to work perfectly this morning. I killed Professor Scrivener very early Sunday morning and no-one had found his body, yet. That would change today, the weekend was over, in a few hours students and staff would be filling-up the campus.

I could not fail. I needed to perform the summoning properly. I needed to make my Pact before the authorities tracked me down. Before Mark Glassner tracked me down. The bastard was hunting me. He had sent Doug Allard, my P.I., after me in France. To kill me. Mark knew I was threat, but once I made my Pact, I would be beyond his powers.

I would hunt him.

I had already killed the heifer. My hands and clothes were splattered with its blood. I never had to kill and butcher an animal before. The cow just let me walk up to it and shoot it in the head with a rifle while it stared stupidly at me, chewing on some grass. Then I drew a knife and set about butchering the cow. It was hard work, the animal’s hide was tough, but I managed to hack off a chunk of flesh from its flank, in the end. The other cows had moved off, disturbed by the blood, and were now placidly grazing a half-mile away. The sky was lightening as dawn approached. I lit the charcoal barbecue I had brought, almost burning my hand as the flames leapt up. Probably too much lighter fluid, I realized. Well, better safe than sorry. I picked up the bloody beef and prepared to throw the hunk onto the coals.

To summon Lucifer, according to the Book, the flesh of a heifer must be burnt as an offering and the correct words spoken. I hovered over the grill, waiting for that first golden ray to appear on the horizon. The sky grew lighter and lighter, and then the sun appeared, a sliver of liquid gold appearing behind a small hill.

“The Shining One, Son of the Morning,” I called out, dropping the beef into the flames, “I give this pleasing offering of flesh and ask that you appear before me.” The meat sizzled and popped as the fire consumed it and the delicious aroma of beef filled my nose. “The Shining One, Son of the Morning, appear before your humble servant so that he may beg three favors from you!”

The light of the rising sun began to blind me as more of that golden disk appeared from behind the hill. I flinched, holding up my hand to shield my eyes. Something moved in the light, coming closer. I squinted, shifting my hand around, trying to make out what it was. Was it just my imagination? No, there was something there. Someone. I squinted, trying to make out the figure walking towards me. Was it the farmer? Or, did the summoning actually work?

“Hello?” I asked, hesitantly, fear gripping my heart and a cold sweat breaking out across my body.

“Hello, Brandon Fitzsimmons,” a man asked with a pleasant voice. “It has been a long time since such a fine offering has been made to me.” I could hear the man inhale deeply, a smile curling his lips as he savored the scent. “Hmm, USDA grade beef. Delicious. I so miss the old ways.”

The sun was out of my eyes, suddenly. The man was close enough to me to eclipse the sun. I blinked my eyes, a bright, blue afterimage filling my sight. The figure was a well dressed-man in a black suit, haloed by the sun, almost like he was the sun, a dark sun that shone brightly. He was handsome with dark hair and a friendly smile on his lips. His eyes were scarlet and I felt a chill run through me.

“I wish to deal with you, Lucifer,” I said with more confidence then I felt.

“Of course,” Lucifer smiled. “Three wishes for your soul. A fair deal, I think.”

“The same deal you gave Mark Glassner,” I stated, angrily.

He nodded, unconcerned with my anger. “A remarkable young man.”

“My first wish is for Mark to die.”

Lucifer sighed. “Alas, I made an agreement with Mark for a long, healthy life. I can’t just go and break my own deals. That is not good business. I think you could understand that, Mr. Fitzsimmons.”

“What, I can’t kill him?” I asked in surprise. “Even on my own?”

“Well, you can try,” Lucifer shrugged. “He’s already survived one assassination attempt. Of course, I never promised him a pleasant or comfortable life. Just a long one.”

I frowned. Well, nothing worth doing was easy. And the thought of prolonging Mark’s suffering, extending it for years and years, was a pleasant one. He deserved a lifetime of agony for his crimes. I was a careful man. I was prepared for this setback. I studied the Book, reading it over and over again, for the last twenty-four hours. If I wished for the ability to control people, there were limitations. Mark could just override my commands with his power or a Nun could hijack my Thralls. The only way to stop that was the Zimmah ritual, but I couldn’t perform that spell without a living mother; she had been dead fifteen years. But, I had an idea to get around that problem.

“Then, my first wish is to be immune to another person’s control.” I would never be under another man’s control again. I would never sit by while a man steals my wife, fucks her in front of me, and sends me on my way like a fucking errand-boy.

Lucifer nodded. “A wise choice.”

“Second, I wish for people to obey me unquestioningly.” I took a deep breath. Hopefully, this would work. “For my third wish, I want anyone under my control to be bound to me by the Zimmah ritual.”

The grin on Lucifer’s face broadened. “How very interesting.” He pursed his lips in consideration. “I applaud your strategy, Mr. Fitzsimmons. It has been a long time since I dealt with a mortal with such foresight. We have an agreement.” There was a flash of scarlet light and a contract appeared in Lucifer’s hand.

I took it from him, and read it very, very carefully. I wasn’t about to get caught by some fine-print trickery. My three wishes were all clearly written just the way I had spoken them. The price was my soul, cheap enough; I was going to hell, anyways, I figured. “Agreed,” I said and Lucifer held out an old-fashioned fountain pen and pricked my thumb. I signed in my blood and Lucifer signed in his.

“Well, I’ll be going. Unless you have any questions, Mr. Fitzsimmons?”

I shook my head and there was a flash of scarlet and he was gone.

I did it! Relief and exultation flooded through me. I was Mark’s equal, now. I licked my lips, realizing just what that meant. People were claiming that Mark was a God. Did that make me a God? Why not, Mark was just some dumb kid who barely knew how to use his powers. He could be ruling with an iron fist instead of playing at democracy. I would school Mark on just how power should be wielded.

The crack of the gun startled me. “Keep your hands up, sicko!” roared a man.

I looked behind me to see a man approaching from a rust-colored pick-up truck, a rifle leveled at me. He must be the farmer, I realized. I smiled; as if this man could harm me. I was a God. I could see someone behind him, standing by the truck, long, blonde hair streaming behind her in the breeze. My smile broadened; I hadn’t had a woman in a month, not since Mark stole my Desiree from me. Time to use my wish.

“Freeze!” I roared and the farmer and the woman froze in place.

I strode forward in anger. The man had shot at me. He could have killed me! I could see the fear in the man’s eyes as his body refused to move. He was an older man, late forties, his face was tan leather, his eyes a piercing blue. I reached the man, stared into his eyes. This was power! I could do anything! No one can stop me! I glanced at the woman, she was young, maybe seventeen or eighteen, the same blue eyes shining with fear. She was frozen, too, wearing a flannel shirt, the tails tied together, exposing a flat, tan stomach. Well-worn jeans hugged her round hips.

I glanced at the man. “Kill yourself,” I ordered and strode forward to the girl. I didn’t flinch at the gunshot and I smiled at the horror in the daughter’s eyes. I stroked her cheek. “He deserved to die,” I told her. “He dared to shoot at your God. You shall be my whore, so kneel down and suck your God’s cock.”

“My Lord,” the girl said in awe as she knelt before me. Her hands shook as she unzipped my pants. She trembled as she drew my cock out, stroking it between her gentle fingers. I moaned as her lips kissed the tip of my dick. I didn’t remember the last time a woman sucked my cock. Desiree never would. That would change. Desiree would be the perfect wife no matter how many times I would have to chastise her. The blonde teen’s mouth opened and I slid my cock in. Her teeth grazed my tip and I winced in pain.

“Stupid cunt!” I shouted and chastised her hard with the back of my hand, snapping her head back. “Watch the teeth, you stupid bitch!”

“I’m so sorry, my Lord,” she whimpered and quickly sucked my cock back into her mouth. This time, her teeth didn’t graze my cock.

I gripped her blonde hair and started fucking my cock into her sucking mouth. She was so wet and warm. I closed my eyes, enjoying the blowjob. My balls were boiling over, it wouldn’t be long before I came. Gripping her head, I shoved her face down my cock until I felt the back of her throat. I held her head tightly, then roughly shoved my cock down her throat until her lips kissed my crotch. She struggled, gagging and choking on my cock as it filled her throat. Her arms flailed as I fucked her mouth. Shit, this was so fucking amazing! This was power! I could feel my balls tighten and I shot my cum down her throat.

She lay coughing on the ground, her face red as she struggled to breathe. “You pleased me,” I told the girl.

“Thank you, God,” she answered, reverently.

“What’s your name?”

“Ashley.”

“Well, Ashley, you get to be my first…” What was that word. “My first concubine.”

A smile crossed her lips. “Thank you, my Lord.”

“Get those shorts off,” I commanded, my cock, amazingly, still hard. I couldn’t remember the last time I was ready to go so quickly. Not since I was in college, I guess. Or high school, maybe. “I’m gonna fuck your cunt raw!”

She screamed as I shoved my cock inside her cunt, tearing through her hymen. She was dry, inside, and that just made it feel rough and pleasant on my cock as I fucked her hard; I pounded her virgin, teenage cunt, reveling in the pleasure that engulfed my cock. Fuck, I had to find more virgins to fuck! This is amazing!

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

Monday, July 22nd, 5:24 PM – Eiffel Tower, Paris, France
My new wife, Mary, was wrapped in my arms as we stared out at Paris from atop the Eiffel Tower.

We arrived in Paris last night to start our two-week-long honeymoon in Europe. When we woke up this morning, huge crowds had gathered in front of our hotel. On one side were the Believers and on the other side the protestors. In-between were the Paris police. So I gave an impromptu speech. Most of the Parisian protestors understood English and by the end they were our supporters.

Before we left for Europe, I had made a few calls to get the local police under our control and they had been extremely helpful in keeping the crowds back as we played tourists in Paris. Mary was determined to see every art museum and we spent most of the day wandering the Louvre. Mary was positively girlish as she gushed over the art. To end our day, we had the police close the Eiffel Tower so that we could enjoy it in peace. I could just hear the believers gathered below that had followed us all day.

It was beautiful up here. Paris was laid out before us, the Seine winding through the lit-up city. It was a gorgeous, romantic view with tree-lined boulevards that glowed green and magnificent landmarks shining brightly: the Arc de Triomphe, the glass pyramid of the Louvre, Notre Dame rearing up in all its Gothic majesty, and many other beautiful buildings and churches. But it all paled compared to the beauty of my wife nestled in my arms. I brushed her auburn hair off her pale neck and kissed the nape of her neck below her ear.

“Mmm,” she murmured, wiggling in my arms. “Don’t stop, Mark.”

I nuzzled her neck and nibbled at her ear. I slipped my hand down and rubbed her silky thigh below her short skirt. “Do you like it when I do this, Mare” I asked as I moved my hand up under her skirt and gently teased her smooth pussy.

“I do,” she purred. Her ass swayed and rubbed pleasantly against my hardening cock. She gasped as my finger brushed her clit.

I slowly diddled her clit with my finger while my other hand moved up her side and found her perky breast. I gave it a squeeze through her bodice then pulled the strap of her dress off her shoulder, pushing the bodice down so I could play with her bare breast. Mary moaned in appreciation as my fingers found her hard nipple and gave it a gentle pinch.

“Umm, that feels great, Mark,” Mary moaned. I slid my hand lower, using the heel of my hand to grind against her clit as I gently pushed two fingers up inside her wet pussy. My wife gasped, “Finger fuck me! Umm, make your naughty filly cum!”

“Gladly, Mare,” I whispered then started kissing and sucking at her neck as I slid my two fingers in and out of her sucking cunt. I could feel the passion growing through her body, the way she began to tense as her orgasm neared. I pumped my fingers faster inside her, pinching her hard nipple. “Cum for me, Mare.”

“Yes, yes! Oh, I love you, Mark!” she cried out as her passion overwhelmed her. My fingers were massaged by her orgasming cunt and her plump ass ground back into my hard cock deliciously. “Oh, fuck, that was great!” She turned in my arms and kissed me soundly on the lips. “Umm, how should I return the favor? My mouth.” She grinned, licking her lips. “My wet pussy, maybe? Ohh, maybe my naughty little ass?”

I grinned at her, reaching around to grope her ass. “What do you think?”

“I think my new husband wants to fuck my naughty ass,” she giggled. “But, he needs to get me nice and ready back there.”

Mary turned back around and I knelt down, pushing up her short, flowery skirt, exposing her pale, plump ass. I kissed each cheek, rubbing their pillowy softness against my face, before I spread her open. I fond her tight anus and placed my lips on it, sucking and licking. Mary purred as I pushed my tongue at her sphincter, slowly forcing my tongue past the tight ring and tasting the sour flavor of her ass.

“Umm, I love it when you rim me,” cooed Mary, then she gasped playfully as I slipped two fingers up inside her juicy cunt.

I let those fingers soak in her cunt, getting a good coating of her savory lube, before I pulled out and pushed those two fingers into her tight ass. I slid them deep into her bowels, fucking them in and out as her ass gripped them tightly. Mary looked over her shoulder at me, a happy smile on her face. She was ready.

I stood up, slipped my cock into her tight pussy, fucking in and out of her just a few times. I almost wanted to stay in her pussy, she felt so amazing, but I wanted her tight ass right now. I pulled out, and Mary sighed in disappointment. I adjusted my cock, lined up at her sphincter, and pushed slowly into her ass. Mary’s disappointment faded as I filled her asshole; she loved it up the ass, too. I moaned as my cock disappeared inside the tight tunnel.

“Oh, fuck that’s nice!” Mary cooed as my cock slid all the way into her ass. “Fuck me! Fuck my ass! Give your filly a good ride!”

I pulled back and thrust back into her, enjoying her tight embrace as I fucked her slowly. Mary pushed her hips back as I pounded her ass. I reached my hands around her and gripped her breasts, squeezing the firm, perky flesh and feeling her hard nipples between my fingers. Mary gasped every time I thrust into her, then turned her head and we kissed over her shoulder.

“Harder!” moaned Mary. “Give it to me hard, my randy stallion! I’m so close to cumming again!”

I pounded my wife’s ass as hard as I dared; I didn’t want to hurt her. She wasn’t Xiu who got off on the pain. My strokes were becoming more frantic as my own cum approached. I was getting so close, just a few more strokes and I would be there. Plunging into her tight ass, my cock’s sensitive head would rub against her hot bowels, sending pleasure shooting through my cock. Then I pulled out, delighting in the velvety feel of her asshole. Every stroke brought me closer and closer to cumming.

“Fuck!” I moaned. “Here it comes, Mare! Fuck!”

“Ohh, I can feel your hot cum filling me up!” moaned Mary as my release flooded her ass. Then I felt her ass clamp down on me and Mary’s body trembling in my arms. “Ohh, I love it when you cum in me, Mark! Oh, I love it so much.”

I held my wife as we relaxed in an orgasmic high, gently kissing her neck and cheek, and admiring the city of Paris laid out before us. “I love you so much,” I whispered. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Mary sighed. “But, I think I owe you a cum. I’m one up on you.”

I laughed as I pulled out of her ass. My wife knelt before me and started licking at my dirty cock. She usually had one of the sluts clean up my cock after its been in her ass, but sometimes she liked to do it herself. I closed my eyes and leaned against the railing with my arms and enjoyed my wife’s excellent blowjob.

“Excuse me, sir,” 51 said. “I know you didn’t want any interruptions unless it was important.”

I sighed as Mary released my cock. “What is it, 51?” I asked her as Mary stood up.

51, the temporary head of the bodyguards, walked forward. She was a beautiful Black woman, her ebony breasts almost spilling out of her half-unbuttoned cop blouse. She held my phone in her hand and I took it from her.

“Hello?” I asked.

“M-master!” wailed Alison. “I-it’s Karen.”

“She’s back?” I asked, a sick feeling in my stomach. Lilith promised to return her unharmed, but then why was Alison crying?

“A hearse arrived today.” Alison paused, struggling to speak. “Karen’s dead.”

I dropped the phone and leaned against the railing. “What is it, Mark?” Mary asked, in concern.

“Karen is dead.”

As Mary sobbed into my chest, anger burned in my heart. Lilith tricked me, found some loophole in our agreement. Demons always found some way to fuck you. I racked my thoughts, struggling to remember what she said, exactly. I thought I made her promise not to hurt Karen, to return her unharmed. The memory of floating in the darkness, flooded my mind. I will do nothing to harm Karen, that’s what she promised.

I realized my mistake. Lilith didn’t promise to see that Karen was returned unharmed, she just promised not to be the one to harm her. I had been too afraid of dying, too afraid of Mary dying with me, to think it through. Goddamn fucking demons! I glanced at 51 who had picked up my phone and was standing at attention.

“We’re going home,” I ordered, anger heating my voice. “Contact every law enforcement agency under my control. I want them to find wherever Karen was being held, find the thing she birthed, and kill it! Lilith will regret tricking me. I will crush the bitch beneath my heel!”

“For Karen,” Mary whispered, sadly, her arms tightening around my body. “Turn over every stone,” my wife ordered, her voice thick with grief and anger. “Do whatever it takes!”

We buried Karen in the Woodbine Cemetery three days later, on the twenty-fifth, next to Chasity and the six bodyguards that died in June. The Cunningham twins performed the funeral, dressed somberly in modest, black dresses. Tiffany, Mary’s mother, wept the loudest as we buried Karen. They were friends, I remembered. Karen was the Nun that rescued Tiffany from the Warlock that made her a slave.

Guilt and anger warred inside me as I stared at Tiffany. She was responsible for Chasity’s death, just as I was responsible for Karen’s death. I didn’t mean for Karen to die, but that didn’t change what happened. Tiffany didn’t mean for Chasity to die. She was tricked by the angels into attacking us. Tricked just like me.

I hugged Tiffany and my mother-in-law stiffened in my arms for a moment, confused at the sudden gesture. I let go of the anger I had been holding onto, the misplaced rage. Tiffany was tricked by the angels, just like I was tricked by the demons. There were more important things to hate than Tiffany. “I forgive you,” I whispered into her ear. Tears ran down my mother-in-law’s face as I turned and walked back to the limo.

Mary caught up, slipping her arm about my waist. I wrapped my arm around her shoulder, giving her a gentle squeeze, pulling my wife tightly against my side. Leah was awaiting us at the limo, holding the door open as we climbed in. To my surprise, 51 slid in after us, holding a manila folder. “Sir, we’ve had our first lead on your missing slaves, Chantelle and Lana.”

She handed us the folder. Inside were color photos of a lobby. They were security cam footage and you could make out black-haired Chantelle and blonde Lana easily enough. Then I blinked. Both looked incredibly pregnant. That was impossible. Mary was frowning, biting her lip.

“That looks like them,” Mary muttered. “The blonde has the same blue streaks dyed in her hair like Lana had. But these women look nine months pregnant. That can’t be right. It’s only been a month and a half since we last saw them.”

“Where is this from?” I asked.

“A funeral home in Seattle,” 51 answered.

I frowned. “You don’t mean…”

51 nodded. “These two women delivered Karen’s body to the funeral home and ordered them to drive the body to the house.” 51 hesitated, then added, “The staff at the funeral home, well, I think they were bewitched.”

So, it wasn’t the Nuns that got to Chantelle and Lana, it was Lilith. A dream I had awhile ago flooded back into my mind. In the dream, I was holding two dolls in my hand, one blonde and one with raven-black hair. Then Lilith appeared and ripped the dolls out my grip. The pain was so intense, so real, I woke up. Crap. I never gave that dream much thought. Just a nightmare brought on by the unease I felt around Lilith. I stared at photos of Chantelle and Lana and vowed to save them from Lilith’s clutches.

“Find them and we’ll find Lilith,” I ordered 51.

“They are not to be harmed, either,” Mary interjected. “Lana and Chantelle are ours.”

“Yes, mam!” 51 saluted. “Chief Spencer of Seattle PD is on it.”

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

Thursday, July 25th, 7:13 PM – Babylon Residence, Seattle, WA
I watched the Seyb ritual from the Shadow.

The very pregnant Lana led the ritual, her hand sliding the dildo in and out of her cunt. My child was growing in her womb. I smiled, another child grew in Lana’s wife, Chantelle’s womb, and both women were almost ready to give birth to the first of my new daughters. Tomorrow they would be born, I thought, just in time for me to welcome them in the flesh. My Vessel sat in the middle of the coven’s circle. She looked thirteen, long silver hair fell across her flat back and across her chest. Her breasts were just starting to bud and her hips were just starting to fill out. Holding my Vessel’s hands, naked as well, was the fiery red-head Mona.

The coven sat in a circle around them, chanting meaningless prayers to me. Power was all about the trappings. Lana pumped the dildo in and out of her cunt, her head thrown back. When she orgasms and utters Seyb a year of Mona’s life will flow into my Vessel and age her. Thirteen willing women had already given a year of their lives to my Vessel and once Mona gave hers, it would be time for me to inhabit my Vessel and escape the Abyss.

I was still savoring the grief and anger of Mark Glassner as he buried that slut, Karen. I watched from the Shadows. I promised not to harm the little thing. And I did nothing to her. It was my Vessel that killed her, that sucked all the life-force from her just to be born. I just had to watch and wait and do nothing. And shortly, I would be free of the Abyss and I would increase Mark Glassner’s suffering tenfold, a hundredfold. He would curse the day he ever made his Pact.

“Yes, yes!” Lana moaned as she fucked the dildo in and out of her cunt.

Her arms wrapped around her pregnant belly. Her breasts were large, nipples pierced with gold rings, and heaved with passion. I could smell her arousal into the Shadow. A tangy, tart musk that smelled so sweet to my nostrils. Nothing smelled better than a woman’s lust. The blue, plastic cock was almost a blur as Lana pumped it in and out of her hungry cunt with one hand while the other diddled her clit.

“Oh my Goddess!” Lana screamed as her body went rigid. “Seyb!”

I could see the energy flow out of Mona and into my Vessel. For Mona, nothing seemed to change. Aging one year at thirty-one produced very little difference. My Vessel, on the other hand, aged from thirteen to fourteen. She grew a few inches in height, her breasts budded into little, apple-sized mounds. Her flat hips grew some curves and a sparse down of silvery pubic hair sprouted about her mound.

Mona leaned in and kissed the Vessel on the lips. My Vessel just sat motionless. No will animated the body, yet. The Vessel had finally reached enough maturity to be inhabited and I moved through the Shadows to it. I reached out, straining to touch my Vessel. Chains were holding me back, tearing at my soul with cruel barbs. The chains of my imprisonment, somehow they knew I was trying to escape. The Vessel moved for the first time on its own, reaching out its hands towards me. It was empty, yearning to be filled, and it sensed the one thing that could fill it.

Me.

I struggled, fighting as hard as I could against my bonds. The pain was excruciating as a thousand barbs tore at my soul. I will escape! I will be free! I was so close, my fingers brushing the Vessel’s fingertips. Yes! Hope surged through me and then was dashed as the chains yanked me back. No! No! Just a little more! Just a little more and freedom is yours, Lilith! Ignore the pain and take your freedom! Pain was blossoming in my soul as the chains tore at my very essence, trying to rip me back deeper into the Abyss.

“No!” I roared in defiance towards the Heavens. “No, I will have my freedom! I will not be contained by Your prison any longer!”

My fingers brushed the Vessel’s, then my hand grasped hers and the Vessel heaved, pulling me out of the Abyss and into it. My soul tore as the barbs ripped free and I was pain incarnate as I flowed into my new body, sinking into the warm flesh like water into a sponge, filling every fiber of its body. Then the pain was suddenly gone. I had a heart thudding in my chest, blood roaring through my veins, again. I could feel the hardwood floor beneath me, the muggy air on my skin. I could only see a red darkness and panic sank into me. Did something go wrong?

Then I laughed. Your eyes are closed, Lilith. It had been too long since I had a real body. I opened my eyes, the light stabbing them painfully, and I forced myself not to wince. I was a Goddess, and Goddesses do not flinch. I flexed my fingers, licked my lips, inhaled deeply. I had a body again! And it was wonderful!

I was free!

My worshipers stared at me in awe. I stood up, trying not to stumble. This form was smaller than I was used to. It had not yet reached its full maturity. I slowly turned, gazing at all my followers. They were naked, all women, their eyes wide with lust, their nipples hard and the room reeked of their growing arousal. Spicy, sweet, tangy, tart, musky, sour. All the delicious flavors of womanhood.

Lana and Chantelle knelt, awkward with their large bellies, before me. “My Goddess,” Chantelle breathed. “Your humble servants await your command.”

“Rise, my daughters,” I commanded, my voice high and girlish with youth. “You did well, I am very pleased with you.”

Lana and Chantelle looked up at me, smiling exultantly. I bent and kissed first Lana and then Chantelle on the lips. Both women fell to the floor as their orgasms exploded through their bodies. As the pregnant women writhed in pleasure I scanned the room and found Babylon sitting next to her daughter, Crystal.

“You have the sacrifice?” I asked Babylon, the coven’s leader.

“Yes, my Goddess,” she breathed. “Lance, my ex-husband.” She licked her lips, a tinge of fear in her eyes. “He almost beat me to death, once.”

“Fitting,” I smiled in pleasure. I hated men, especially those that thought they were better than a woman.

I needed to finish growing and now that I was in control of the Vessel, there was a far more satisfying way to age myself another fifteen years, to reach the peak of my physical beauty and maturity. Four of the women dragged in the naked man. He was in his forties, fat and soft. His hands were tied with ropes behind his back and he thrashed like a beached whale in the grips of the four women.

“Fucking cunts!” Lance roared as he thrashed about like a beached whale. “I’ll fucking kill all of you. And fucking rape all your lesbo cunts and smash your faces in! Fuckin’ let me go! And you, Clarissa or Babylon or whatever the fuck you call yourself these days. I’ll fucking kill you last! You fucking dyke! I’ll rape your dyke pussy and I’ll kill ya!”

“Ohh, he is perfect,” I purred, feeling my pussy begin to moisten in anticipation.

He was thrown down onto the floor and the twenty or so women of the coven quickly bound him spread-eagle on the floor. The Coven had swelled its ranks since my manifestation a month ago on the Summer Solstice. More than forty women followed me and more joined our ranks every day. We found them in the missions, the abused women shelters, and walking the streets. Wherever a woman was beaten and oppressed by a man, a new worshiper was found.

I brushed the man with my foot, just the lightest touch and he shivered in pleasure, his cock hardening beneath his fat gut. I would drain the man dry, steal his life-force to age my Vessel. Every time he would cum inside me, I would steal more of his life. I stared at him with a predator’s hunger, licking my lips in anticipation.

“Free me, slut!” he snarled. “Let me go and I’ll spare your fucking hide. I’ll give you a good fuckin’ too.”

“You want to stick your cock inside me?” I cooed. “You want to feel the velvet deliciousness of my cunt?”

“You bet I do, slut!” he grinned with false bravado. But I could smell the stink of fear on him. A man’s fear smelled almost as good as a woman’s arousal. “My cock’ll make you howl. Ya’ll fuckin’ love it!”

I straddled him, lining his cock at my hungry hole. I felt the head of his disgusting cock prodding at my pussy. I slammed my hips down, engulfing him in one, swift thrust. The pain was intense as I broke in my virgin pussy, his cock felt monstrously huge inside me. I grit my teeth and ignored the pain, sliding up his shaft.

“Holy shit!” he groaned and then I felt his disgusting seed spilling in me.

I aged a year, my breasts swelling, a few more inches of height and I grew more womanly curves. I smiled in joy and slammed down his cock. Up and down and he was cumming in me again, and my breasts were growing bigger. They were round and perky with teenage youth, jiggling as I rose up and down on him. My bush was thick and silvery. I slid a hand across my hip and delighted in the curves I felt, then up to my breasts. I fingered my nipples, they were larger, my aerola growing wider as my body matured.

I rode him hard and he moaned and groaned, cumming every few strokes. Soon my breasts had grown to their full majesty, round and heavy and yet still perky, not drooping or sagging. My hips had transformed into the pleasing curves of womanhood. I felt my face, tracing the familiar features. I had aged from the pretty innocence of a youth to the mature beauty of a woman. Twelves times Lance had cum in me, then thirteen. I threw my head back, my orgasm building within me, my hands enjoying the fullness of my breasts. I grew even closer to my pleasure as the fourteenth load spilled into me, my body sucking up his life-force.

I slammed down one last time, grinding my clit into his groin, and moaned my orgasm in a loud voice as he shot his fifteenth load of cum into me. His vibrant life-force poured into me as my pleasure rolled through my body. I threw back my head as the exquisite pleasure exploded through my body. Around me, every woman fell to the floor as my Lust washed through the room and triggered their own orgasms to surge through their bodies.

Feeling exhilarated, I stood up, the man’s vile cum rolling wetly down my thighs. I stretched, enjoying the way my full breasts swayed. I looked down on the disgusting creature and smiled at his transformation. The man looked gaunt and old, his hair turned white and wrinkles creasing his face. He gasped for breath, his face turning purple.

“I hoped you liked it,” I purred maliciously.

“My heart,” Lance wheezed, clutching his chest. “Please, I think I’m having a heart attack.”

“Ohh, then let me help you,” I smiled down at him.

Hope flared in his eyes, but that quickly vanished as I crushed his throat beneath my foot.

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

Tuesday, August 6th, 6:49 PM – Deer Creek Apartments, Summit, WA
The doorbell rang as Thamina sat the plate of rice and lamb on the table.

“Can you get it, Fiona?” Thamina asked. She kissed me on the lips briefly before she walked back into the small kitchen. I admired her ass beneath her long skirt. She still dressed like a good Muslim woman, long skirts, blouses with long sleeves and high necklines, and a headscarf wrapped about her black hair.

“Sure, Mina,” I said walking across the living room to the door.

Things had been going really well in the six weeks since we escaped Mark’s clutches. I still wasn’t sure what we were. Friends? Lovers? Maybe we were girlfriends? I didn’t know. We shared an apartment, and a bed. Thamina no longer regretted our lovemaking, but the guilt of being gay still gnawed at her. If anyone asked, she would just say we were friends or roommates.

And that hurt, just a little bit.

I opened the door and fear clutched at my heart. “Lilith!” I blurted out. Behind me a plate shattered and Thamina gasped.

Lilith smiled, her violet eyes glinting with hunger. She was dressed in a red, tight dress with a plunging neckline that showed off her lush figure. Her silver hair was piled up one side of her head, and fell about her right shoulder, loose locks falling between her breasts. She wasn’t flickering about the room like last time I saw her, when she stole Karen away from Good Sam Hospital. That seemed like a lifetime ago, when I was Mark’s slave.

“Fiona,” she purred.

Behind Lilith stood four women. Two were vaguely familiar. A short, slim woman with black hair in a red halter-top and a pair of skinny jeans that hugged her lithe figure. Her arm was entwined by a curvy, blonde woman with blue highlights in her hair and a round, smiling face. The other two women were more outlandish; a very tall woman, over seven feet tall, with a mane of scarlet hair and amber eyes. She wore a tight, black tanktop and a pair of camo pants. Her grin was feral, a lioness staring at her prey and I swallowed as those amber eyes fixed on me. The other woman was as curvy as Lilith. Purple hair that fell about her perfect face; a pair of rose-colored eyes set above a dainty nose and pouty lips. She wore a white, belly shirt that molded to her large tits, and a pair of daisy dukes.

Frowning at the two normal-looking women, I asked, “You both were with Mark at the restaurant that night?” I grimaced as I remember the night Mark made me his whore for the first time. I was a waitress at the Sky City Restaurant and my fellow waitresses and I were forced to serve Mark and Mary and two other women dinner, naked. We had to let them do whatever depraved thing they wanted to us. Just the memory of that night left me wanting to take a shower.

The blonde had a sad look on her face. “We were Mark’s slaves, then,” she said. “I am Lana, and this is my wife, Chantelle. Our Goddess, Lilith, set us free.” A look of ecstasy crossed her lips as she said Lilith’s name.

Lilith swept past me, into the house, looking around. Thamina was trembling at the table as the demoness looked around our apartment. My heart felt like it was in my throat as the freakishly tall woman pushed me aside as she followed Lilith in, a feral growl rumbling from her throat. The woman started stalking around the apartment, peering into doors and sniffing like a dog.

“Don’t mind Cora,” Lilith said, sitting down on the couch and crossing her legs. “My daughter is very protective of me.”

“Wh-what do you want,” I squeaked as the other three women walked in. The violet-haired bombshell sat daintily next to Lilith as Chantelle and Lana knelt at the demoness’s feet.

“Vengeance,” Lilith answered, her eyes shining with hatred. “On Mark Glassner.”

“We want noting to do with him,” Thamina blurted out. “We’ve moved past him.”

I sat down in the chair, licking my lips. I still had nightmares about being Mark’s slave. Terrible dreams where he walks into our apartment and makes us beg to be his again. I still felt filthy at all the things he made me do. Him and his slut, Mary. Everyday there were more stories of him on the news, more people talking about what a great man he was. The great reformer, the great God. Everyday the world slowly became his just a little bit more. Everyday I grew more and more scared that he would come back for us.

“How?” I asked and Thamina gave me a hurt look. I ignored her.

“Worship me,” Lilith smiled. “I am the only hope for women. Long have men oppressed us, used our bodies to satiate their lusts. Men are violent beasts. It is far past the time for women to do away with them entirely. Think how much greater the world would be without men.”

I frowned. “What do you mean, kill all the men?” Her smile deepened. That’s exactly what she meant. “That’s insane. We’d die off as a species.”

Lilith brushed Chantelle and the black-haired woman stood up as graceful as a dancer. She pulled off her halter-top and wiggled out of her tight jeans and stood naked and proud in the center of the room. Her body was slim and toned, and her fingers slid through a thin line of black hair that led to her shaved pussy. She pinched her clit and—it grew.

“Holy fuck!” I gasped as her clit swelled up, lengthening into a long shaft. The tip changed, turning into the head of a mushroom. No, I realized in amazement, the head of a cock. Chantelle’s transformed her clit into a penis, complete with a urethra.

“It is fully functional,” Lana purred, licking her lips. She stood up, wrapping her hand around her wife’s cock and gave it a few pumps. “I can attest to that. I’m pregnant with her child. We just found out yesterday.” The two women shared a loving look and Chantelle rubbed at Lana’s belly.

My mouth widened. “This is fucking insane.”

“I am the only being that can stop Mark,” Lilith boasted. “Worship me and I will protect you from his commands. Or wait until he makes you his slave again.” I shivered at those words. I would never be Mark’s slave again. I would rather die.

I would rather worship Lilith, I realized bitterly.

“He set us free,” Thamina protested. “He promised to leave us alone.”

“And what is the worth of a man’s promise?” demanded Lilith. “He will come for you, again. He will make you his, defile your bodies with his lusts! He will make you love his affections, rob you of your free will again!”

“I’ll do it!” I exclaimed. Anger was burning inside me. Anger at Mark for making me enjoy his rape. Anger at my ex-boyfriend, Hank, for replacing me in the two weeks I was Mark’s slut. And fueling that anger was the fear of being Mark’s whore all over again.

Thamina knelt before me, grasping my arm. Her dark eyes filled with tears. “Please, Fiona,” she begged. “Don’t serve this demon. She is evil.”

I glanced down at her face. “Mark is worse. I’ll never be his slave again.”

“Stay with me, Fiona,” Thamina begged. “I…I love you. We can be happy, together.”

My emotions whirled inside me, a tangled mess. I looked down into her eyes and I saw the love there. Did I love her? What was she to me? We made love. Many times. And it was great. But was that love? I hesitated, unsure what to do. And what if I stayed and Mark came for us? Fear, anger, love, hope. It was too much. I felt like I was about to be torn asunder.

“I don’t care if it’s a sin to be with you,” Thamina pressed on. “Just stay with me. Please. I need you.”

Thamina jumped as Lilith knelt behind her, whispering into her ear, “Fiona can have a cock. She can be your husband. It’s not a sin, then. All you have to do is just worship me.”

“Yes,” I sighed, my eyes looking up at Chantelle’s cock. What would that feel like? What would it feel like to shove my cock into Thamina’s inviting pussy. I stared down at her dusky face framed by her headscarf, her dark eyes pleading with me. Did I love Thamina? Maybe I did. I would miss waking up to her dusky face. “I can be your man, Mina. Then you wouldn’t have to be ashamed of us.”

Thamina flinched at my words. Her dark eyes stared up at me and a look of resignation filled her face. “I…I…” She swallowed. “I want you, Fiona. I will be your wife and worship your Goddess.”

I blinked in shock. “We’ve only been together a month-and-a-half,” I protested. “We can date, you can be my girlfriend. In a few months, I’m sure we’ll have grown close enough to start talking about marriage.”

“No. I am a Muslim. It is wrong what we have been doing.”

I scowled. “And worshiping Lilith is okay with Islam?”

“I would be obeying my…husband,” Thamina whispered. “I know you want me, Fiona.”

Her fingers were stroking my thigh through my jeans, sending a flush of warmth through my groin. I did want her I realized, as her dark eyes stared up at me. I rubbed my thighs together, trying to ignore that growing itch between my legs. Did I love her, though? I opened my mouth, but I couldn’t find the words. Her eyes were so beautiful, especially looking up at me from between my thighs.

“Yes,” I answered. “I’ll marry you.”

Thamina pulled my face to her and kissed me, then turned to Lilith. “You can marry us, right?”

Lilith laughed derisively. “Me, do something so prosaic? No, Lana or Chantelle can. They are my High Priestesses.”

“Then let’s do it,” Thamina said, squeezing my hand.

“Wait, right now?” I asked.

Thamina gave me a direct look. “That is my price, Fiona.”

Everyone was moving so quickly. Thamina pulled me into the center of the room, holding my hand. Chantelle pulled out a few wilting, pink begonias in a vase and shoved them into Thamina’s hands. When I objected that we needed rings, Chantelle came out of our bedroom with Thamina’s jewelry box and fished out two rings. This was all just happening too fast.

“We are gathered here to unite these women in love,” Lana intoned as Thamina gripped my hands and smiled shyly at me. She was so beautiful, I couldn’t help smiling back at her. “To share their lives and burdens together, brought together by their worship of our Goddess, Lilith. Do you, Thamina, take this woman to be your wife? To love her, and cherish her, and be her partner in all things?”

“I do,” Thamina said confidently as I slid the ring down her finger.

Lana repeated the same vow to me and I was surprised at how calm I sounded when I said, “I do.” The ring was cold as it slid down my finger. Thamina was blushing prettily when Lana declared us married and I found myself pulling my wife to me and kissing her gently on the lips.

Chantelle was crying and clapping when we broke the kiss and Lilith was staring at us expectantly. I knelt, and Thamina knelt next to me. Lana spoke, and Thamina and I recited in unison, “I pledge my soul to Lilith, my Goddess, from now until the end of time.”

“And now to consummate our agreement and bestow my blessing upon you,” Lilith pronounced and her dress melted away into red smoke leaving her lush body exposed. Her clit swelled, growing into a cock and suddenly Lilith’s lust swept into me and I groaned, gripping my new wife’s hand as a delicious orgasm rippled through my body. Thamina gasped next to me, her hand trembling as she came.

“Your blessing?” I asked as I watched Lilith push Thamina onto her back, Thamina’s clothes vanishing in a puff of red smoke. Lilith was about to fuck my wife, I realized.

“To make you hers,” Lana said. “To give you your gift, and plant our Goddess’s child inside you.”

“What?” I asked.

Lana glanced fondly at the hulking Cora. “Lilith is the mother of monsters,” Lana explained. “Her seed will grow inside Thamina’s belly and her child will be special. Sadly, a woman can only bear her one child without suffering ill-effects. Other women are needed to bear our Goddess’s children.”

“Oh, yes,” Thamina moaned as Lilith’s cock penetrated her pussy and my wife orgasmed a second time beneath Lilith’s thrusts.

“Lilith’s child grows quickly,” Chantelle said. She was sitting next to the purple-haired woman. “My Lamia was in me only forty days.” Lamia snuggled up against her mother and Chantelle stroked her purple hair.

“Oh, Fiona, this is amazing!” Thamina gasped. “Oh, wow!” Then she was screaming in Arabic, a musical sound that filled my ears with delight. I watched Lilith’s perfect ass pump above my wife and I couldn’t wait for my turn to be fucked by my Goddess. I reached out and grasped Thamina’s hand and she squeezed me as another orgasm racked her body and then Lilith moaned and slammed her cock into my wife and everyone in the room felt our Goddess’s orgasm roll through the air.

Stars swam before my eyes at the intensity of Lilith’s orgasm and when my vision cleared I saw my silver-haired Goddess above me. Her silver hair brushed my cheek and my clothes dissolved into red smoke and I was naked beneath her. Lilith’s large breasts rubbed against me as she parted my thighs. Her cock brushed my pussy lips and another orgasm exploded through me. And then the shaft was sliding in and out of me.

“Oh my God!” I groaned.

“Goddess,” Lilith hissed, thrusting hard into me.

“Yes, yes!” I moaned as another orgasm rolled through me. Her cock was ecstasy in my cunt, every touch ignited a fire in my nerves. “My Goddess! I am yours!”

“Yes, you are,” she purred, stabbing her cock into me over and over.

I was lost to the pleasure as orgasm after orgasm crashed through my body. I was pleasure. Every nerve in my body was alive and fed by Lilith’s passion. Her skin was hot silk, her breath a sweet spice, her nipples hard diamonds. I shrieked so loud as I felt her seed explode into me, white-hot magma that sent my nerves erupting in pleasure so intense that nothing else mattered.

“Fiona,” a voice whispered, distant. “Fiona.” The voice was growing louder. “Fiona!” Someone was shaking me. My eyes opened and Thamina’s face was above me.

“What happened?” I asked.

“You passed out,” Thamina smiled and then kissed me.

I sat up and saw that my Goddess was dressed. “Come to Seattle tomorrow,” she commanded. “Lana will leave the address. I give you this night to consummate your marriage.”

“Thank you, my Goddess,” Thamina whispered.

I felt her hand stroking me. It felt weird, like something was protruding between my legs. “Enjoy,” Lana grinned at me. Thamina’s hand felt so wonderful, whatever she was doing. I sat up on my elbows and saw a cock growing out of my crotch. I was hard and Thamina’s hand was firm silk and every time she brushed the head, new pleasure rolled through my body.

“I have a cock,” I whispered.

“You can make it come and go,” Chantelle explained, “Just concentrate.”

“Let’s go to bed,” Thamina said eagerly. “I need my husband in me.”

“I’m your wife,” I corrected.

“Ooh, no wife could have such a beautiful cock,” Thamina purred, then I gasped as her mouth sucked the head into her lips.

“Holy shit, that’s amazing, Mina!” I gasped.

Thamina grinned at me and I stood up and she dragged me into our bedroom and sprawled onto the bed. She was naked, her skin a beautiful, dusky color, her black hair spread out like a fan about her. Her bosom heaved with passion, her dark nipples hard. Her neatly trimmed bush was matted with our Goddess’s seed.

I crawled onto the bed, atop my wife, and she pulled me to her, kissing me on the lips. I found her wet pussy with my cock and moaned as I pushed into her velvety depths. “Oh wow,” I gasped. “That’s amazing! I love you, Mina.”

I did, I realized. I did love her.

“I love you, Fiona,” she moaned as her hips rotated beneath me. I felt her hard nipples pressing into my soft breasts, her hands roaming my back, sliding down to cup my ass. “I am your wife!”

My wife. Then a thought occurred to me. “Aren’t I allowed more than one wife?” I asked her. “Doesn’t Islam let a husband marry other women?”

“Yes!” Thamina gasped as I fucked my cock in and out of her cunt. “Up to four.”

“Would you like that?” I asked her. “Other wives for us to fuck. Imagine the fun we could have.”

“Yes, yes, yes!” Thamina gasped. I felt her cunt spasming about my cock as she thrashed beneath me. I kissed her, shoving my tongue into her mouth and kept right on fucking her through her orgasm.

I held her tightly and rolled onto my back. “Ride me, wife!” I ordered. “Let me see those beautiful breasts bounce.”

Thamina sat up, her breasts thrust forward and bounced so beautifully as she rose up and down my cock. Her pussy felt amazing wrapped around my cock. I slid a hand up her dusky skin and cupped her left breast and felt her nipple hard beneath my fingers. She smiled at me, tossing her beautiful, dark hair as she threw her head back in pleasure.

“Oh, Mina!” I moaned. “Your pussy feels amazing!” I felt this growing pressure deep inside me. In my ovaries. Something wanted to escape my body. “I think I’m about to cum!”

“Yes, yes, flood me with your cum!” Thamina panted. “Umm, I love your cock!”

That feeling of release grew and grew and then this intense pleasure surged through me and I could feel my cum pumping out of my cock, flooding into my wife’s pussy! “Yes, oh fuck, that’s amazing!”

I pulled my wife down to kiss me. Being married wasn’t all that bad, I realized. Not with such a beautiful woman as my wife. I shrunk my cock. I wanted to enjoy my wife as a woman for awhile. Thamina happily spun about, presenting her well-fucked cunt to my lips. White cum stained her pussy, a mix of my sperm and my Goddess’s. She tasted delicious and I shuddered as her tongue started lapping at my cunt.

Being married definitely wasn’t all that bad.

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

Sunday, September 22nd, 10:33 PM – Q13 Fox New Studio, Seattle, WA
“Tonight we are joined by Mark and Mary Glassner,” Debra Horne-Dannell introduced.

Debra had almost been fired from Q13 for proclaiming me a God during a live broadcast and posting the entirety of the firefight at our house and my subsequent healing on Youtube. The Miracle of South Hill everyone called it. I pulled some strings, and now she was the co-anchor for the local news. Debra had an awed look in her eyes as she stared at Mary and me. “We are honored to have you here tonight, my Lord and Lady.”

“Always nice to see you, Debra,” Mary answered, warmly.

“Thank you for having us,” I smiled.

Debra blushed. I bet she was remembering all the times she sucked my cock. “It’s my pleasure. You are here tonight to promote a gun-buyback program you are sponsoring in Tacoma this Saturday?”

I nodded. “It’s a great opportunity to get some guns off the street. After the attack, I know from experience just how dangerous guns in the wrong hands can be.”

Mary smiled. “Our country is awash in guns. It may have made sense to have an armed population two hundred years ago. But, the Founding Fathers could never have anticipated just how deadly guns would become.”

Debra nodded in agreement. “It has become quite an epidemic in this country,” she interjected.

“Exactly,” I said, turning to face the camera. We were live; Mary and I always insisted on doing interviews live so our commands could actually affect people. They didn’t work if recorded for some reason. “I want everyone out there watching us tonight that isn’t a police officer or in the military, to bring their guns to the Courthouse in Tacoma. Amazon has graciously donated hundred dollar gift cards to anyone that turns in their guns. It starts at Ten AM and will go all day.”

The greatest threat to Mary’s and my safety was someone with a gun. The more guns we got out of the hands of people not under my power, the safer we would be. Even with the amulets Sam invented, they were still a danger to us.

Sam, our former sex slave turned Vizier, had started taking the knowledge of the Magicks of the Witch of Endor and applying them in new ways. She modified a charm that could be placed on amulets to deflect arrows and, after many tries, got them to work on bullets. Everyone in our employ, the sluts, our bodyguards, and our family members, wore these bronze amulets. One hung around my neck and another nestled in Mary’s cleavage. They created a field that could deflect bullets, but they weren’t perfect. A powerful enough gun could still penetrate the field and automatic fire could overwhelm the amulet pretty fast.

“Well, I can’t wait to see the turnout,” Debra smiled, then glanced at Mary. “Rumor has it that you’re pregnant.”

Mary’s smile grew and she reached over and gripped my hand. “I am. Almost eight weeks. We found out a week after the wedding.”

Debra clapped her hands. “I am so happy for you, my Lady.”

I glanced at my wife, squeezed her hand. I was happy too. The first two months of our marrige was going perfectly. Except Brandon Fitzsimmons and Lilith were out there, somewhere. The interview wrapped up, and we walked to the elevators, surrounded by our bodyguards. We were getting strange reports out of the Midwest. It seemed Brandon had used his copy of the Book to gain powers. There were many reports of women disappearing after their boyfriends or husbands committed suicide. Some of the women would show up alive, confused about what happened to them, others were found badly beaten or dead, and a few hadn’t been seen at all. A man, fitting Brandon’s description, was often seen around these incidents.

I kept hoping a Nun would show up and deal with him. They couldn’t leave me alone for a week. Was it too much to hope that one would show up and deal with Brandon? There were still a few out there, according to Tiffany. Though no Nuns were left in North America. It was looking like Mary and I would have to deal with him personally. Sending the authorities after Brandon would just get more people killed. After the gun-buyback in Tacoma, I would have to make the time. He wouldn’t be hard to defeat. His mother was dead so he couldn’t bind anyone with the Zimmah ritual. I would just order his Thralls not to fight and our conflicting orders would freeze them in place. Then it would be child’s play for our bodyguards to take him.

Brandon wasn’t nearly as dangerous as Lilith was. It had been two months since Karen died and there was still no sign of Chantelle and Lana. Their images were on wanted posters, ran on the news, and no one had come forward with any reliable information on them. They were the only lead we had on tracking Lilith’s child down. Lilith was out there, somewhere, plotting against us. I brooded on that thought as we rode the elevator down to the parking garage.

Our guard tonight was made up by A Squad, a mix of the old bodyguards that survived the attack and volunteers. The first two classes had finished their Police training, adding fifteen new members to the guard. These were women who agreed to be our slaves, to serve and protect their Gods. Four other women had also joined the bodyguards, cops that quit their jobs and traveled across the Country to join up. As soon as we had enough, we would free the original bodyguards that we forced to protect us. We would let them choose to stay or be free, just like we had with the sluts. With Lilith and Brandon out there, we needed to keep them just a little longer.

I was getting worried about what our enemies were up to, so I’ve quietly made arrangements in case something goes wrong. I used Mary’s older sister, Shannon, and her fiancee, George. He traveled a lot on business and he had the perfect cover to make some purchases around the country.

Leah waited for us at the limo, looking sexy in her white corset and short, black skirt. The limo was new, having just arrived a week ago. It was armored, the doors heavy with Kevlar plates and six inches of bullet-resistant glass. The limo was a beast, practically a tank. Mary slid in first and then I followed. Jessica, our press secretary-slut, was last, sitting opposite us inside the limo as Mary snuggled up to me and I kissed her on the lips.

Mary slid her hand down and rubbed at my cock through my pants and grinned when she felt how hard I was. “Horny stallion,” she fondly said, then yawned. “Jessica, attend to my husband.”

“Absolutely, Mistress,” Jessica smiled.

Mary laid her head on my shoulder and closed her eyes. She had a little less energy these days, because of the pregnancy, and it was getting late. I stroked her cheek and she smiled softly as Jessica knelt before me. Our slut was wearing a transparent blouse that showed her beautiful, caramel breasts and dark nipples through the sheer fabric. She knelt down before me as the limo started to move, unzipping my pants and sucking my cock into her lips.

“Thank you, Mare,” I whispered. “You’re the best wife.”

“I know,” she murmured, sleepily.

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

Monday, September 23nd, 9:17 AM – Main Gate, JBLM, WA
I moaned as Ashley settled her cunt down on my hard cock in the back of my limo. The blonde teen, the first of my concubines, threw back her head and moaned wantonly, “Oh, Brandon! Your cock feels so amazing!”

“Lucky girl,” pouted the auburn-haired Sherri as she lay entwined with her twin sister, Terri, on the opposite seat. The twin sisters’ freckled breasts were pressed together as Terri pulled her sister’s face back to hers.

I smiled, watching the sisters kiss, Sherri’s ass flexing as she ground her pussy into her twin’s. They were my second and third concubines. I found them in the parking lot of a Motel Six. Terri’s boyfriend had objected when he found me kissing his girl and took a swing at my face. He almost hit me before I froze his muscles with a command. I had Terri execute him for daring to strike at a God. He had blubbered so pathetically as his girlfriend took my gun, put it to his head, and killed him.

I had to keep the twins, they had green eyes, freckled faces, and pouty lips. With their auburn hair, they were almost like Mary. When I fucked them, I could almost pretend that they were Mark’s wife. I couldn’t wait to take her as mine before Mark. To make her love my cock more than his and watch the pain in his face as his wife cums on my cock and begs me for more. Mary would make a fine concubine once we flushed Mark’s child out of her belly.

I smiled, I couldn’t wait to have them in my power.

I would have my wife, Desiree, back, too, adding her to my growing harem. There were another four ladies back at the hotel, and Victoire, of course. She was driving the limo, her hazel eyes glancing enviously at Ashley in the rear view mirror. She was a French model I found at O’Hare Airport. She was on a layover and I made her mine in the airport lounge.

After making my Pact, I was—sidetracked. There were just so many beautiful women, I found, that were begging to be fucked. I kept the most pleasing women as my concubines, and disposed of the rest. Before I realized it, over a month had passed and I had not gotten one step closer to my revenge. But that was about to change.

There was a rap on the window. An MP guarding the Main Gate of Fort Lewis was standing there, peering into the tinted windows. I signaled Victoire to roll the windows down. Ashley kept riding my cock. She knew better than to stop. I hadn’t had to chastise her in weeks and all her bruises had faded.

“What the fuck!” the MP gasped.

“I am your God,” I commanded. “Escort me to the commanding officer of your Post.”

“Yes, sir!” the MP saluted.

I had to give more orders, of course. The sergeant in charge of the gate had to be brought in line, but in a few minutes, I had an MP escort to Lieutenant General Arthur Brooks, commanding officer of I Corps and Joint Base Lewis-McChord. A few years ago, neighboring McChord Air Force Base and Fort Lewis were combined into one installation. Somehow it saved money.

Ashley pumped her hips atop me as we drove through the base, moaning her pleasure. I stared out the window at the all the soldiers we were passing. The start of my army. On Saturday, I will have Mark crawling on his belly before me. Just five more days and the world will know who I am and tremble before my Majesty!

For I am their rightful God. The Great and Powerful Brandon! I closed my eyes, pictured Mark Glassner kneeling in defeat before me, the false God cast down by the True, and came in Ashley’s sweet cunt.

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

Wednesday, September 25th, 10:32 AM – City Hall, Seattle, WA
“Excuse me, Mr. Mayor,” Nate Kirkpatrick said, knocking on the heavy, oak door of the Mayor’s office

“Oh, come in, Nate,” the Mayor answered.

I followed Nate in. He was a big, burly man with brown hair that was quickly balding. He was the Manager of Human Resources at City hall. I say was, because my daughter killed him last night and then took on his appearance. I was really proud of my daughter, she was only a few days old and she already was accomplishing so much for Lilith. She was a Mazikeen, a creature that could assume any form she pleased.

“This is your new assistant,” Nate said, motioning to me. “Fiona Cavanagh.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Mayor,” I lied.

The Mayor, a fairly fit man for someone in his early sixties, reached out and shook my hand. He was tall, his hair obviously dyed black to hide the gray, and he had a firm handshake. His desk was neat; a computer, a pen cup, and a photo of the Mayor and his husband at their civil wedding were the only items resting on the dark wood.

“You can call me Craig or Mayor Erikson,” he said with a smile, shaking my hand.

“I’m sorry to hear about the passing of your previous assistant,” I said. His name was Shaun, and Thamina’s daughter by Lilith, Tir, had infected him with a very nasty, and very lethal, disease.

Grief clouded the Mayor’s face. “Yeah, he was a special young man.”

“Well, I’ll go get set up at my desk,” I said.

“Oh, of course,” Mayor Erikson said.

Once his door was closed, I whispered to my daughter, “You did good, Ziki.”

A loving look appeared on the face my daughter wore, recognizable to me through the fat man’s face she wore. I reached out and stroked her stubbled cheek fondly. “Well, Mother, I have other hires to make,” Ziki told me.

I nodded, and sat down at the desk. Slowly, Seattle would be Lilith’s, I thought happily. A few minutes later, Lamia walked in. She was Chantelle’s daughter by Lilith, and I dialed the Mayor’s phone. “Your 10:45 is here, sir.”

“I don’t see an appointment on my schedule?” the Mayor objected.

“Maybe Shaun didn’t get a chance to update your schedule, sir.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he sighed, his voice thick with grief. He cleared his throat. “Okay, send him in.”

“Her, sir. A Miss Lamia. She has something very important to show you.”

Lamia smiled naughtily at me, her purple hair framing her face beautifully. She walked to the door, and I couldn’t help watching her tight ass sway beneath the short skirt of her dress. Lamia could make any one man at a time to be her love-slave, even a gay man like the Mayor. She would just need a few hours to imprint him. I just had to keep visitors away until then.

I heard a low moan and Lamia’s throaty laugh through the door and smiled. I picked up the phone and dialed my wife. “Mina, my first day is going perfectly,” I told her.

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

I watched from the Shadows as Melvyn Howland read Professor Scrivener’s final message when it appeared on the University of Wisconsin’s assignment website. The news of the Professor’s death had already spread through the campus. He had been found shot dead this morning. Melvyn read the note with a sick fascination. It was all about who was responsible for his death and his interesting translation of the Magicks of the Witch of Endor.

Melvyn, or Mel to his friends, wasn’t the first to read the final message. But he was the first to post the Professor’s translation to an occult forum, the UnearthedArcana.com, and linked his post to Reddit. I marveled at the technology of this age. In the past, such a book would take weeks of painstakingly hard work to copy it perfectly. But now, this young man just shared it to the entire world in a matter of seconds.

For weeks, nothing happened. People read it, discussed its contents, dismissed it as fiction or a hoax. It was Simon Arterbury, posting under the name atterboy-simon, who had the theory that Mark Glassner must have made a Pact with Lucifer. “All his powers can be explained by this book,” he typed.

Other users shouted him down, all full believers in their false God, Mark, and not willing to believe that such a perfect being would soil himself by consorting with demons. That comment brought a smile to my lips. These humans were such blind fools, I observed with amused contempt.

Simon, desiring to prove them wrong, went to a grocery store and bought a T-bone steak and waited for dawn on the balcony of his small apartment, his tiny grill burning. He was twenty-seven years old, obsessed with watching high school girls. From his balcony, he had a clear view of the local High School’s field and he loved photographing the cheerleaders as they practiced.

“The Shining One, Son of the Morning,” Simon called out. I could smell his sweet offering and his words pulled me to the Mortal World. “I give this pleasing offering of flesh and ask that you appear before me. The Shining One, Son of the Morning, appear before your humble servant so that he may beg three favors from you!”

I wasn’t able to have the dramatic entrance I preferred. There was just no room on the balcony for that. I had to settle for his startled jump as I materialized next to him. I was dressed in my usual, dapper suit, dark as smoke, and put a friendly smile on my face, to put the insect at ease.

“Holy shit!” Simon exclaimed. “That worked.”

We quickly got down to business. His wishes were so pedestrian. “I want the entire Varsity Cheerleading Squad of Townsend High School to appear before me as my willing sex slaves. I want the stamina to be able to fuck them all without rest. And, I want a billion dollars.”

I left the man to fuck his teenage cheerleaders in his cramped apartment. Much later, Simon dragged himself away from his harem to post on the forum: “I did it haters, fuk you and fuk your god! Lucifer gave me entire cheerleading squad!! *-)” He uploaded a photo of himself surrounded by the smiling, naked cheerleaders holding pompoms. The idiot was arrested two days later for kidnapping and the rape of minors. Well, he had that billion to spend on his defense.

Others summoned me after that.

Scotty Adams wished for the ability to turn himself invisible, that women would enjoy it when he molested them while invisible, and not to suffer the effects of exposure while invisible. I don’t think the man ever plans on being visible again, and soon the Ghost of Paris, Texas became infamous.

Augustin Kudrna wished for every married woman to desire him and let him fuck them, for their husbands to not object as he fucked their wives, and for every woman he fucks to conceive a child, if possible.

Yoshida Emi, a teenage girl in Japan, constantly bullied, wished for the ability to kill anyone if she writes their name down in a notebook. She got this idea from something called ‘Death Note’. That’s all she wanted. I didn’t have a problem getting a bargain like that. I had to make one addendum to her power. Mark and Mary Glassner had to be immune. “I made a pact with them,” I explained to the girl. I needed them, I couldn’t very well let some stupid girl ruin all my plans. A rash of unexplained deaths plagued Yamamura High School.

Marcus Arthursson wished for people to obey his commands, to reshape any woman he wanted to, usually into his ideal woman, and to have a big cock. The city of St. Paul, Minnesota, was flooded with big-breasted women who appeared in their twenties with blonde hair, blue eyes, and tan skin. Aging women from around the world traveled to St. Paul to regain their youths at the hands of the ‘Doctor’ Arthursson. Getting fucked by him was a small price to pay for youth restored.

Marissa Beckett, separated from her husband, Steven, wished for his cock to never get hard again, for the whore he was fucking to have the worst case of gonorrhea, and for her final wish, Marissa wanted to get back the body she had at twenty-one and stay that way forever. She was excited to try out her restored youth and get laid.

Lenox MacCrumb of Scotland wished to be superman. Well, I made him use three wishes to get some of Superman’s powers. He went with Invulnerability, Heat Vision, and Flight and then set about fighting crime in Glasgow complete with blue tights and a red cape.

Never had I been so busy.

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 35.

The Devil’s Pact, Ghost of Paris Chapter 1: Freedom

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

The Ghost of Paris Chapter One: Freedom

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2014


Story Codes: Male/Teen female, Mind Control, Magic, Voyeurism, Male Masturbation, Oral

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.



Friday, August 30th, 2013 – Paris, Texas

“Staying out of trouble, Scotty?” Mitchel Craig, my parole officer, asked me.

“Yessir, boss,” I lied.

It was complete bullshit that I was here. What was the harm in taking a few photos up a few girls’ skirts. I mean, they were wearing panties. Hell, those girls probably wear skimpier bikinis when they go to the beach. But the judge disagreed, particularly with my prior, and gave me three years. I was paroled in eighteen months, and had to report to this slug once a month.

“You still livin’ in Paris, son?” he drawled. Craig had a fat, ruddy face and he wiped at the sweat beading his forehead every minute with a grimy handkerchief he pulled out of his back pocket. “At that halfway house on Sperry Street?”

I nodded. It was the shithole that all the sex offenders were sent to. You had to be home by 8 PM, and your room could be searched at any time for ‘contraband’: porn, drugs, weapons, and booze. If you had a job, you could stay out past eight, otherwise you were confined to your room or a shitty common area with a broken TV, a couch from the fifties that had lost all of its padding, and a chess board missing half its pieces.

I ground my teeth as the fat sack of shit drawled on and on. I wanted to mosey my way over to Boone High School and watch the cheerleaders practice. It was the Friday before Labor Day weekend, and there wouldn’t be any school until Tuesday. It was bad enough having to go three days without watching those fine young things shaking their stuff, let alone adding another day because my PO liked to hear himself talk.

I wasn’t, strictly speaking, supposed to be watching the girls. I was a voyeur, and over the years my tendencies has landed me in a mess of trouble. When I was nineteen, I got a job at Boone High School in my home town of Paris, Texas, as a janitor. Well, I drilled a hole in the girl’s locker room and enjoyed the sights for a whole month before I got caught. That landed me my first stint in prison. Sentenced to six years; out in three on good behavior. I thought I got smarter, after I got out, thought I got more careful. But at twenty-seven, I was caught in the Paris Commons, the local mall, with my digital camera hidden in my shoe taking upskirt shots.

I just couldn’t stop. I loved watching girls. I often fantasized about being a fly on the wall, just watching them, up close. Or one of them superheroes that can turn himself invisible. I would just sit in locker rooms, watching the gals and jerking my pecker. I just had to see the ladies naked, I couldn’t help myself. Since my parole last month, I had already snuck a camera into the locker room at the Y and for three days got some delightful footage before the memory stick filled up.

“I’ll be keeping an eye on you, Scotty Adams,” my PO warned. “Don’t think you can be peeping on the girls under my watch.”

“Sure thing, boss,” I nodded. The dumb sack of shit had no idea what I’ve been up to since I got out. I glanced at the old, analogue clock on the wall; there was still time to watch the practice.

The cheerleaders were jumping around when I arrived. Their pretty legs flashing as they cartwheeled around, their firm breasts jiggling beneath their red tops. And when those gold-and-black pleated skirts flipped up and you could see their black, tight spankies that hugged their asses, well it was like I died and gone to heaven. Their school mascot was the lion, and the cheerleaders called themselves the Lionesses. But, it was over all too quick, and I wandered over to the public library. Maybe I’d surf some porn, or check out what was happening on reddit. You could always fine some girl posting a titillating selfie.

I browsed some porn for an hour, receiving a few dirty looks from a mother. Luckily, the first amendment protected pornography as free speech so the shrewish librarian couldn’t do anything about it. But, I couldn’t jerk off either, so I switched over to a few sites I liked to visit. One was called the Unearthed Arcana, a forum for people who loved the occult to post theories on, or to inform people on the latest revelations from spirit channelings and the like.

My first love was spying on pretty young things, my second was the occult. I just ate that shit up. I read Alice Bailey, Madam Blavastky, Alestier Crowely, David Icke, and all the rest. At night I would listen to Coast to Coast AM with George Noory. They were always preaching the truth about the government and aliens and the like. I loved it.

I started browsing the forum of UnearthedArcana.com. Someone posting as attaboy-simon claimed that the rising power in the Northwest, Mark Glassner, had sold his soul to Lucifer as outlined in the Magicks of the Witch of Endor. There was quite the lively debate. These Miraclists that worshiped Mark as a God were quite the fervent defenders, deriding the original poster for even suggesting that their God would consort with demons. attaboy-simon said he was going to prove them all wrong and his final post simply read: “I did it haters, fuk you and fuk your god! Lucifer gave me entire cheerleading squad!! *-)” It was accompanied by a picture of a man and more than a dozen smiling, naked girls holding pompoms.

My heart stopped.

Lucifer gave me an entire cheerleading squad, echoed over and over in my mind. What if this worked? I devoured the Magicks of the Witch of Endor, printing off the pages on how to summon Lucifer. It was well worth the thirty cents the library charged for printing if this actually worked. My hands shook. I could get three wishes for my soul. I was going to hell anyways, just ask my pa the Baptist preacher.

I could realize my dream. I could become invisible, and spy on women. But that was only one wish, what could I do with the other two? I smiled, thinking on the possibilities. I had to do this, it was the chance of a lifetime. I would have to break curfew, but it’d be worth it. Curfew wouldn’t matter if this actually worked.

I bought a steak, stole a grill out of someone’s backyard, and squatted in an empty house on the outskirts of Paris and waited for the sun to rise, a case of Coors to keep me company. I fell asleep. Luckily I remembered to set the alarm on my cell phone and woke up before dawn. I lit the grill and watched for the sun to rise. According to the book, if I offered a heifer as a sacrifice at dawn, I could summon Lucifer. Well, here’s hoping this steak came from a heifer and not a bull.

The wait for the sun seemed to be an eternity. The horizon lightened, fading from black to dark blue to light blue to gray. Hints of rose and orange started to appear. I was shaking with anticipation, my hand holding the bloody steak above the lit grill, just waiting for the first ray of the sun. When that golden light touched my eye, it was like the crack of the pistol at a race; my hand opened and the steak dropped, sizzling on the fire.

“The Shining One, Son of the Morning,” I shouted at the sun. “I give this pleasing offering of flesh and ask that you appear before me. The Shining One, Son of the Morning, appear before your humble servant so that he may beg three favors from you!”

For a moment, nothing happened. Disappointment curdled in my stomach. And then a wind rose up, whipping dust into my face, and I saw a dust devil racing across the dry fields towards me. I stepped back in fear as the brown whirlwind seemed to be bearing down right at me. The wind was howling as the swirling dust roared closer. This wasn’t natural. It stopped, just a few feet away, and I licked my lips in fear. Dust devils never stayed in one place. Then it stopped, and out stepped a handsome man in a dark suit, immaculately clean despite the dust falling around him.

“Hello, Scotty Adams,” the man greeted, a friendly smile on his face. His eyes were scarlet and I swallowed, my heart up in my throat, as he calmly strode up to me. “What’s the term they use these days?” he asked, pursing his lips. “Oh yes, you rang?”

I swallowed. “You’re Lucifer?”

“Really, son, I thought you’d be brighter than that,” he sighed. “You said the words, made the offering, who did you think I was?”

I gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Yeah, I guess you’re right, hoss.”

His scarlet eyes stared at me and I shifted uncomfortably in his gaze. After a minute, he asked, “Well, what do you want? It’s a very busy time for me.”

“Yessir, I guess,” I shrugged. “I mean, Halloween just ’round the corner, right?” Lucifer’s eyes narrowed in annoyance and I quickly said, “I wish to be able to turn invisible. Like, with just a thought.”

“Really?” Lucifer asked, a slight smile on his lips. “That’s a first.”

“Well, I mean, I’m pretty average looking. No-one ever gives me no second glance.” I shrugged. “Even still, I get notice far too much. Bein’ invisible, well, that’d just make things easier on me, hoss.”

“Okay, Scotty,” Lucifer grinned. “One down, two to go.”

“Well, when I’m invisible, I’m gonna molest women and I want them to enjoy what I do and not freak out somethin’ terrible,” I said. It came to me last night that spying on women was fun, but touching them, feeling their most intimate parts, well that would be even better. Lucifer nodded. I was surprised to see understanding in his eyes, not disgust. “For my last wish, I want to be immune from exposure when I’m invisible. Y’know, no sunburns, no frostbite, no hypothermia, or that heat stroke.”

“Done.” There was a flash of scarlet light and yellow smoke that smelled of rotten eggs and a contract printed on yellowing paper appeared in his hand. “Read it, then sign on the dotted line.”

I quickly read it. It was surprisingly straightforward. Lawyers could learn a thing or two. Lucifer pricked my thumb with a black, old-fashioned fountain pen, and I signed in my own blood. Lucifer signed in his, then he nodded to me and vanished in a gust of swirling dust.

Did it actually work though. I held out my arms before me, concentrated, and then to my delight, my arm vanished. There was just the sleeve from my Megadeath T-shirt. Holy shit, it worked. I went back into the house and checked out my reflection. I was just clothes around nothing. It was like that movie, Hollow Man, with Kevin Bacon.

I whooped in delight.

I peeled off my clothes, I didn’t need them anymore, and walked out into the street. It was exhilarating. I was naked and no-one could see me. This was freedom! No-one could see me, could judge me, or tell me what I was doing was wrong! I was free of all the bullshit morality that sent me to prison twice just for a little bit of harmless fun. It’s not like I touched any of those girls, just looked at their fine, taut bodies.

Well, I had the freedom to touch them now!

The street was warm on the soles of my feet as I walked down the black asphalt, the sun warm on my naked back. I quickly missed my shoes, but I sucked up the pain. People used to go barefoot all the time back in olden times; my feet would toughen up, I told myself.

There were, however, other problems.

I had to dodge out of the way of pedestrians. When I went to cross the street, a car almost ran me over making a right turn. And just because I was invisible, it didn’t stop dogs from barking at me. It was an adjustment; I needed to learn to be careful. But it was all going to be worth it as I walked up behind a woman waiting to cross the road.

She was wearing a lavender sundress with a short skirt. I reached out, grabbed the hem and lifted up the skirt and saw her pantied-covered ass, nice and plump, before she spun around. She frowned as she looked for whomever had grabbed her skirt. I almost laughed, this was priceless, watching the confusion on the woman’s face. She turned back to face the light and I reached out and rubbed her bottom. Instead of freaking out at the touch, she wiggled her butt back into my hand and sighed.

“Who’s there?” she asked, looking over her shoulder. I jumped back as she reached for me, then feeling bold, I grabbed her breast. Her eyes widened and I could feel her nipple hardening. Fear and pleasure flickered across her face as I groped her.

I would have gone farther, but a man barreled into me, knocking me down. The man looked around in surprise, and the woman fled across the street as I struggled back to my feet. I was about to follow, when I saw the car making a turn and I stopped before it hit me. Then the light changed red and traffic started flowing. By the time it was safe for me to cross, the woman had disappeared into an apartment complex.

Oh well, there were other women to play with. I kept walking, heading to the Paris Commons. It was Saturday and the teenage girls would be flocking to the clothing stores. I picked up my pace, eager to get my hands on some pretty young thing. My pecker was hard with anticipation, bouncing about as I walked.

It was challenging to walk through the mall. I had to hug the walls to avoid bumping into people, but I threaded my way to the Banana Republic. I waked back to the dressing rooms, waiting for a likely girl. The first was a tall girl, with an okay body, but her face was long and narrow and very plain, so I passed on her. Next was a chunky gal in her thirties and I shuddered when I saw the tight clothing she selected. It my opinion, spandex is a privilege, not a right.

The third, though, she was just right; young and hot. She was short and petite, with long, honey-brown hair and vibrant, green eyes. She had a shy smile on her face as she walked up to the dressing rooms, a couple of skirts, a pair of shorts, and several blouses in her hand. She walked back to the farthest changing room and opened the white door. I moved quickly, stopping the door from closing and slipping in.

She frowned as I moved into the corner, peering around. “Hello?” she asked with a dulcet voice.

I tried to stop my heart from beating and breath as softly as possible. My pecker was rock-hard with excitement as she frowned and then shrugged. She hung her clothes on the hook and grabbed the hem of her loose, white blouse and pulled it over her head. I almost groaned as her bare back came into view, marred only by the straps of her white bra. In the mirror, I could see her small breasts cradled in the plain, white cups of her bra.

Thank you attaboy-simon! This was so much better than upskirt shots and peepholes. I was just a foot away from a teenage girl, probably a freshman, stripping her clothes off. I grasped my pecker, stroking it gently as she kicked off her flip-flops, then unbuttoned her jeans. She wiggled her hips deliciously as she slid off her tight pants, exposing a pair of white panties decorated with Minnie Mouse. Her ass was slim and the panties dug into her crack, outlining her cheeks. When she bent over, the gusset of her panties was pulled tight against her pussy and I could see wisps of brown hair peaking out the side.

I almost came just from that sight. If I had been stroking my pecker any harder, my cum would have been splashing all over her rear. I stroked harder, trying to be as quiet as I could, but the sight before me was just too much. She straightened up, grasping the shorts and pulling them up her legs. She turned, looking at her ass in the mirror, her breasts just inches away. I stroked my pecker harder, biting my lips to keep from moaning.

“Is someone out there?” the girl asked, frowning as she pulled on one of the tops.

I slowed my strokes down and the girl shook her head, muttering under her breath as she modeled her clothes in the mirror. She frowned, shaking her head, and started to strip out of those clothes. She wiggled the shorts off, once again bending over. Oh god, her pussy was right there, covered by those tight, girlish panties, inches from my pecker. My balls were boiling and my face contorted in pleasure.

My cum was also invisible, it turned out, as it splashed on the girl’s ass and crotch. “What the fuck,” the girl gasped, jumping and spinning around. She rubbed at her ass, feeling my sticky cum, and she frowned as she lifted up her fingers, rubbing them together, but not seeing what was causing that sticky feeling. Her eyes flicked around the changing room. “What is going on?” she muttered.

God, my pecker was still hard. This was just too exciting. But I needed more. She turned to grab her clothes and I made my move. I reached out and grabbed the clasp of her bra and ripped it open. She spun around again, hands clutched to her bra to keep her breasts from being exposed. Her lip trembling in fear.

She didn’t resist as I grabbed her arms and pulled them away, just continued shaking in confusion. Her bra slipped off exposing her small, snowy breasts topped with dark-red nipples. Oh, God, she was so beautiful and innocent. She bit her lips, staring down at her arms, trying to see what force held her wrists.

“A-are you a ghost?” she asked.

“Yes,” I answered with a smile. “I’m attracted to the only the most purttiest girls.”

She flushed, her nipples hardening. “You think I’m pretty?”

I pulled her right hand down to my hard pecker. Her eyes widened as she gripped my pecker, squeezing gently. “Feel how hard I am for you, sweetness.”

She gasped, letting go, her entire body was beat red. “I did that?”

“I got to have you,” I groaned, my hands grabbing her flesh. Her breasts were soft yet firm, her nipples hard and she moaned as I played with them. It was strange, watching her breasts deform as my invisible fingers kneaded her pliant flesh.

“Do you need relief, Mr. Ghost?” she asked. “Do you have a bad case of blue-balls keeping you from passing on?”

I slid my finger down her taut stomach and started fingering the waistband of her cute panties. “I do. I’m in so much pain. I just need a purtty, young thing like you to give me some relief. Y’know, so I can get to heaven!” I slipped a finger into her panties and felt her silky pubic hair.

She was breathing heavily, her hands reaching out hesitantly until she found my body. “Okay,” she whispered as her hands slid down and found my hard pecker. “I’ll help you, Mr. Ghost.”

“Rufus,” I said. “Call me Rufus Scott, sweetness.” Rufus Scott was some bigwig from a long time ago, his mansion was a tourist attraction.

“I’m Mindy. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Scott.” She shook my pecker like we were shaking hands.

I knelt down and pulled her panties off. She gasped in surprise, but willingly stepped out of her panties. I held them up, sniffing her scent. She smelled sweet and fresh like a summer meadow. Her bush was darker than her hair, and matted with her arousal. I smiled, my Pact was exceeding my wildest expectations. I couldn’t resist, I stuck my head in and licked at her slit. I never went down on a girl before, but damn if she didn’t taste wonderful.

“Oh, Mr. Scott!” she gasped.

“Shh, you don’t wanna get caught,” I warned her.

“Sorry,” she whispered, then clapped her hand over her mouth as I dove back in for another taste.

Her pussy was tight and when I parted her lips she was pink and wet inside. I slid my tongue through her groove, gathering her tasty juices. I sucked and nibbled on her lips, then I found a hard button at the top of her pussy. I licked it and she shuddered and moaned into her hand. It was her clitoris, I realized. The pleasure button on a chick. I sucked it into my lips and she bucked like a bronco on my lips and I held on for dear life.

“Oh wow, I’ve never came so hard before,” she sighed happily. “Thank you, Mr. Scott. Now, maybe we should attend to your problem.”

“Abso-damn-fuckin’-lutely, sweetness,” I panted, standing up.

I picked her up she was so light, gripping her ass tightly. She wrapped her legs around my waist and I quickly maneuvered my pecker to her wet cunt. “Oh, yes, Mr. Scott,” she cooed happily as I sank into her pussy. She was tight, but no virgin.

She started pumping her hips on my pecker, and I enjoyed the velvety tightness of her pussy. I glanced at the mirror and all you could see was Mindy floating in the air, writhing like bitch in heat. I turned around, facing away from the mirror. Then I looked over my shoulder and I could see her pussy gaping open as my invisible pecker fucked into her pink hole.

“Oh, fuck this is wild!” I moaned, pumping my hips.

“I can see down my pussy!” she gasped softly as she saw her reflection in the mirror. “Oh, it’s so pretty! Mmh, your ghost pecker feels so great inside me!”

Her hips twisted on my pecker, driving me crazy with pleasure, and I pumped my ass as fast as I could. I just came a few minutes ago, but her teenage cunt was quickly building me up to another one. I squeezed her firm ass, then started sucking and licking at her neck. Her hard nipples and soft breasts rubbed against my chest and her arms snaked around my neck and she hugged me tightly.

“Oh, yes!” she moaned. “Sweet Jesus, I’m gonna cum again!”

Our flesh was slapping together, we were getting louder and louder. I had to finish before the store clerk interrupted us. The silky walls of her pussy rubbed the head of my pecker with every thrust, sending pleasure that radiated out from my pecker. I could feel my orgasm nearing and I pumped wildly. My balls were getting closer and closer to exploding. Just a few more thrusts and I would be there.

“Fuck!” I grunted as my cum boiled into her cunt. “Goddamn fuckin’ hell! You got one amazin’ cooch, Mindy!”

“Oh wow!” she gasped, bucking in my arms as her cunt spasmed on my pecker. “Oh, Sweet Jesus, yes! Yes! Oh crud, I’m cumming!” She panted, rubbing her cheek against me. “Umm, that was nice.”

“Yeah,” I said, letting her go.

“Good thing you’re a ghost,” she joked. “’Cause I’m not on the pill.”

“Uh-huh,” I laughed, then slipped out of the changing room, catching one last look of her naked body. Wouldn’t that be rich if she got pregnant.

I started whistling as I walked out, passing the clerk, a pretty young woman with black hair who looked around, confused, at the sound as I walked by. She had a firm-looking butt, and I couldn’t resist reaching out and pinching her fine ass.

“What the fuck!” she screamed in surprise.

I grinned. Mindy wore me out. I would need a break before I could go again. So, I started heading to my favorite spot in the whole mall. If you stood underneath the stairs that led to the second floor, you could see up a woman’s skirt through the gaps between the steps. I stretched out on the floor mall’s cold, hard floor. It was uncomfortable, but the view was well worth it. And who knows, in an hour or so, I bet I could find another woman to help a poor, suffering Ghost get some relief.

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 2.