Tag Archives: Teen male/Female

The Battered Lamp Chapter Fourteen: The Lust of the Concubines

 

The Battered Lamp

Chapter Fourteen: The Lust of the Concubines

by mypenname3000

© Copyright 2014


Story Codes: Teen male/Female, Teen male/Female/Teen female, Male/Teen female, Oral Sex, Exhibitionism, Anal Sex, Rimming, Domination/Submission, Sadism

For a list of all the Battered Lamp Chapters click here, and for the Devil’s Pact 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.



Click here for Chapter 13.



Note: Thanks to b0b for being my beta reader.

Thursday, January 23rd – SeaTac International Airport, Washington

“Now boarding Air Canada flight 343 to Vancouver, Canada,” the gate attendant announced.
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The Battered Lamp Chapter Thirteen: The Despair of the Warrior

 

 

The Battered Lamp

Chapter Thirteen: The Despair of the Warrior

by mypenname3000

© Copyright 2014


Story Codes: Teen male/Female, Teen male/Teen female, Teen female/Teen female, Teen hermaphrodite/Teen female, Magic, Oral Sex, Domination/Submission, School, Exhibitionism, BDSM

For a list of all the Battered Lamp Chapters click here, and for the Devil’s Pact 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.



Click here for Chapter 12.



Note: Thanks to b0b for being my beta reader.

Thursday, January 23rd – South Hill, WA

The memory of Fatima lying on the hospital bed wouldn’t leave Kyle’s mind when he reached Gym Class. So Kyle took comfort with Carla and Aaliyah behind the bleachers, burying his guilt and anger over everything that had happened in the warm, wet flesh of his wife and concubine, savoring the feel of their hot pussies wrapped around his cock. As his orgasm built, all the pain vanished and he was left with only bliss.
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The Battered Lamp Chapter 9: The Insight of the Rakshasa

 

 

The Battered Lamp

Chapter Nine: The Insight of the Rakshasa

by mypenname3000

© Copyright 2014


Story Codes: Teen male/Teen female, Teen male/Female, Female/Teen female, Mind Control, Magic, Incest, Oral Sex, Domination/Submission, Violence

For a list of all the Battered Lamp Chapters click here, and for the Devil’s Pact 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.



Click here for Chapter 8.



Note: Thanks to b0b for being my beta reader.

Tuesday, January 21st – South Hill, WA

Kyle had been concerned about Aaliyah all through kendo practice despite Christy’s texts assuring him that she was just fine. He couldn’t contact her at all during practice, sapping his concentration and keeping him from focusing on his kendo. His form was terrible tonight. And no matter how hard he tried to calm himself and stay grounded, he couldn’t stop wondering why his genie wife was ignoring him.
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Pakt mit dem Teufel Kapitel 30: Tiffanys Erzählung

 

 

Pakt mit dem Teufel

Kapitel 30: Tiffanys Erzählung

Von mypenname3000

Übersetzt von Horem

English version edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2013, 2014


Story Codes: Teen male/Female, Male/Female, Female/Female, Mind Control, Male Domination, Female Domination, Sadism, Violence, Cockold, Watersports, Magic

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

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



Click here for Kapitel 29.



Meine Hände zitterten, als das Adrenalin langsam verschwand. Aber die Bilder all der Toten und Sterbenden blieben. Mein Gott, so viele Tote. Bitte vergib mir, oh Herr!
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Der Pakt mit dem Teufel Kapitel 26: Der Orden von Maria Magdalena

 

 

Der Pakt mit dem Teufel

Kapitel 26: Der Orden von Maria Magdalena

Von mypenname3000

Übersetzt von Horem

© Copyright 2013, 2014


Story Codes: Male/Female, Male/Teen female, Teen male/Female, Male/Females, Female/Female, Female/Females, Mind Control, Rimming, Oral, Anal, Incest, Water Sports, Orgy, Magic

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

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



Click here for Kapitel 25.



„Kommt herein“, sagte ich zu meinen Mitschwestern und lud sie in mein Hotelzimmer ein.
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The Battered Lamp Chapter One: The Genie of the Lamp

 

 

The Battered Lamp

Chapter One: The Genie of the Lamp

by mypenname3000

© Copyright 2014


Story Codes: Teen male/Teen female, Teen male/Female, Teen female/Teen female, Mind Control, Magic, Anal, Female Masturbation, Virgin, Oral Sex

For a list of all the Battered Lamp Chapters click here, and for the Devil’s Pact 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.



Click here for The Prologue.



Note: Thanks to b0b for being my beta reader.

South Hill, Washington – Wednesday, January 15th, 2014

Kyle Unmei Jr. was hoping to get laid for his seventeenth birthday.
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Der Pakt mit dem Teufel Kapitel 19: Die Sullivans

 

 

Der Pakt mit dem Teufel

Kapitel 19: Die Sullivans

Von mypenname3000

Übersetzt von Horem

© Copyright 2013


Story Codes: Male/Female, Teen male/Female, Males/Female, Females/Teen female, Male/Females/Teen female, Mind Control, Incest, Anal, Oral, Creampie, Orgy, Magic

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

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



Click here for Kapitel 18



„Du hast einen hübschen Arsch“, sagte ich und kniff Mary in ihren Knackarsch, als sie die Dusche einschaltete. „Habe ich dir das schon einmal gesagt?“

„Immer wieder“, sagte Mary und schaute mich an. „Und ich höre es immer wieder gerne.“

Mein Sperma lief ihr aus dem Arsch und aus der Fotze, weißliche Bäche an ihren Oberschenkeln, die sie total sexy aussehen ließen. Wir hatten die letzten eineinhalb Stunden im Bett verbracht und gefickt. Wir hatten jede erdenkliche Stellung benutzt und ich war in jedem Loch gekommen, das mein verdorbenes Fohlen hat. Ich drückte ihren Arsch und genoss das Gefühl ihres Fleisches in meiner Hand.

Mary schob meine Hand weg. „Hast du noch nicht genug?“ fragte sie mit einem zufriedenen Lächeln.

„Ich habe nie genug von dir“, sagte ich. Ich zog sie an mich und küsste sie auf die Lippen. „Ich werde deiner niemals müde, Mare.“

„Hör auf“, protestierte Mary halbherzig. Ich nahm ihre Schwäche wahr und küsste sie wieder. „Meine Familie kommt gleich. Wir müssen uns fertig machen, Mark.“

Das Bad war in Dampf eingehüllt und Mary schlüpfte aus meinem Griff und betrat die Dusche. Warmes Wasser rann auf ihren perfekten nackten Körper. Es lief an ihren Brüsten vorbei und an ihrem Bauch entlang zu dem herzförmigen Haarbusch oberhalb ihrer Fotze. Sie hielt den Kopf unter das Wasser und ihr rotbraunes Haar verteilte sich auf ihrem Rücken. Ich ging auch in die Dusche und drückte mich gegen ihren Rücken. Mein harter Schwanz rieb sich an ihrem Arsch, während ich meine Hände um sie herum legte und ihre Brüste und ihre harten Nippel fand.

Mary seufzte vor Lust auf. „Wir haben keine Zeit, Mark“, flüsterte sie. Ihre Nippel waren harte Knöpfchen unter meinen Fingern.

„Du bist so wunderschön“, flüsterte ich und küsste ihren Hals. „Ich kann deinem wunderschönen Körper einfach nicht widerstehen.“

Mary drehte sich im meiner Umarmung zu mir um. Lust glitzerte in ihren Augen. Ich stöhnte, als sie nach meinem harten Schwanz griff und ihn mit ihrer nassen Hand wichste. Ihre Brüste waren gegen meine Brust gedrückt und ihre Nippel waren steinhart. Ich ließ eine Hand an ihrem Rücken nach unten rutschen und fasste ihren Knackarsch an.

„Ich dachte, wir müssen uns fertig machen?“ fragte ich und genoss das Gefühl ihrer Hand an meinem Schwanz.

„Das müssen wir auch“, flüsterte sie und sie spreizte ihre Beine ein wenig mehr. „Meine Familie kommt nämlich gleich.“

Ihre Hände führten meinen Schwanz an den heißen Eingang zu ihrer Muschi. Ich spürte ihre Schamlippen an meiner Eichel und dann spürte ich das Loch, das nach innen führte. Ich stieß langsam nach vorne und genoss das Gefühl, wie ihre Fotze meinen Schwanz umschloss. „Wenn wir uns fertig machen müssen“, flüsterte ich in ihr Ohr, „warum steckst du dann meinen Schwanz in deine Fotze?“

„Weil ich es liebe, wenn er in mir ist“, keuchte Mary, als ich innen anstieß. „Du bist so stattlich, dass ich dir einfach nicht widerstehen kann. Also fick mich schon! Reite dein Fohlen!“

Ihr Lippen waren auf meinen, ihre Zunge war in meinem Mund. Ich nahm ihre Hüften und sie schlang ihre Beine um meine Taille und ihre Arme um meinen Hals, als ich sie gegen die Wand der Dusche drückte. Dann beendete sie den Kuss und stöhnte leidenschaftlich in mein Ohr und hielt mich fest, während ich begann, langsam meinen Schwanz in ihrer Muschi zu bewegen.

„Heute Abend werde ich mit meinen beiden Schwestern Liebe machen“, flüsterte Mary mir ins Ohr. „Meine ältere Schwester Shannon, die Bitch und die kleine Missy. Ich werde ihre Muschis auslecken und sie werden meine auslecken. Und dann kannst du sie ficken.“ Sie packte meinen Schwanz fester mit ihrer Fotze. „Stell dir das mal vor, die Sullivan Mädchen, nackt und willig in deinem Bett!“

Ich stellte sie mir vor. Shannon, eine reifere Mary, ihr Körper weiter entwickelt. Missy war Marys jüngere Schwester, noch in der Oberschule. Alle drei, gemeinsam im Bett. Drei rothaarige Schönheiten, die sich gegenseitig streichelten. Wen würde ich als erste nehmen? Die erfahrenere Shannon oder die jugendliche, vielleicht noch jungfräuliche Missy?

„Du bist die Beste, Mare“, keuchte ich. „Es ist so süß von dir, dass du deine Schwestern mit mir teilen willst.“

Mary schnurrte kehlig. „Und nachdem du in die verdorbenen Fotzen meiner Schwestern gespritzt hast, werde ich deinen Saft aus ihren Schnallen herauslecken.“

Ich konnte mir Mary vorstellen, wie sie vor ihrer Schwester kniete und sich die Sahnetorte genehmigte, während ich mein Fohlen von hinten nahm. Ihre Schwester würde sich vor Lust winden und Mary darum bitten, ihre Fotze noch härter zu lecken. Sie würde darum betteln, dass Mary ihr einen Orgasmus schenkte. Und wenn ich dann mein Sperma in Mary geschossen hatte, würden die beiden Schwestern tauschen und dann würde auch noch Marys Sahnetorte gegessen.

„Ja, Mare!“ keuchte ich und meine Eier zogen sich zusammen. „Oh ja, ich kann es gar nicht abwarten! Hier kommt es, Mare! Du bist ein richtig verdorbenes Fohlen gewesen!“ stöhnte ich, als mein Sperma in sie hineinschoss.

„Ja, ja, spritz mich voll!“ keuchte sie. „Bist du so aufgeregt?“

„Ja!“ keuchte ich und lehnte mich gegen sie.

„Hör nicht auf!“ drängte mich Mary. „Ich will auch kommen!“

Unser Fleisch schlug gegeneinander, als ich sie weiterfickte. „Und bist du auch so aufgeregt, dass du die Mösen seiner Schwestern bekommst?“

„Ja, ich kann es auch nicht abwarten“, stöhnte sie. Sie fickte ihre Hüften gegen mich. „Ich werde…“ Ein Klopfen an der Badezimmertür unterbrach sie. „Ja?“ rief Mary ärgerlich.

Die Tür öffnete sich und jemand kam herein. „Sorry Herrin“, entschuldigte sich Thamina, unsere arabische Schlampe. Thamina war eine der drei Schlampen, die uns heute Abend bedienen würden. Die anderen beiden waren Desiree, die frühere Hausherrin und Fiona, eine Kellnerin aus Seattle. „Deine Schwester Shannon und ihr Freund sind angekommen.“

Mary stöhnte und zuckte mir mit ihren Hüften entgegen. „Die sind zu früh. Sag ihnen, dass wir uns gerade fertig machen und dass wir gleich da sind.“

„Soll ich ihnen sagen, was ihr gerade macht?“ fragte Thamina amüsiert.

„Nein!“ sagte Mary keuchend. „Und benehmt euch so gut wie möglich. Ihr seid heute Abend ganz normale Zofen und keine Fick-Zofen.“

„Natürlich, Herrin“, murmelte Thamina.

„Du wirst mich vor den anderen heute Abend Miss Mary nennen, Schlampe“, stöhnte Mary. „Oder ich werde dir deinen Arsch versohlen, bis er kirschrot ist und du eine Woche lang nicht sitzen kannst!“ Marys Fotze quetschte meinen Schwanz ein. „Hmmm, dein dunkler Arsch, der bei jedem Schlag wackelt und deine versaute kleine Fotze, die bei jedem Schlag nasser wird! Hmmm, fick mich fester, Mark!“ Ich gehorchte und fickte Mary hart. Unsere Schöße schlugen in der Dusche gegeneinander. Ihre Fotze verkrampfte sich auf meinem Schwanz und sie schrie ihren Orgasmus heraus. „Mein geiler Hengst! Oh verdammt, jaaa!“

Ich fickte sie immer härter, während sie noch in ihrer Lust stöhnte. Ihre Fotze klammerte meinen Schwanz, als ein zweiter Orgasmus ihrem ersten folgte. Dieser war nicht ganz so stark wie der erste, aber trotzdem zuckte Mary an mir. Ihre Fotze molk gierig Sperma aus meinem Schwanz . Ich spürte, wie sich meine Eier zusammenzogen und ich stöhnte in das Ohr von meinem Fohlen. Dann gab ich ihr drei guter Spritzer von meinem klebrigen Saft.

Ich war als erster fertig. Ich hatte eine Bluejeans angezogen und ein weißes Hemd mit blauen Nadelstreifen. Ich war frisch rasiert und hatte ein nach Moschus riechendes Aftershave benutzt, das Mary mir gekauft hatte. „Hmmm, du riechst toll“, schnurrte Mary und küsste mich auf die Lippen. Meine Hände fuhren nach unten und drückten ihren Knackarsch. Sie griff nach hinten und nahm meine Hände weg. „Nein, du gehst jetzt nach unten und unterhältst unsere Gäste.“

Ich seufzte und rückte meinen harten Schwanz in meiner Hose zurecht. Dann verließ ich die nackte Mary, die sich vor dem Badezimmerspiegel Makeup auflegte. Ich ging die Treppe nach unten und hörte Stimmen aus dem Wohnzimmer. Fiona kam in einem konservativen Zofen-Outfit an mir vorbei. Es war zumindest konservativ, wenn man es mit ihren normalen Sachen verglich. Es war ein klassisches französisches Outfit, ein Oberteil mit tiefem Ausschnitt, der mit Spitze gesäumt war, ein kurzer Rock mit mehreren Lagen Petticoats darunter und Netzstrümpfe, die mit Strumpfhaltern an ihren wundervollen Beinen gehalten wurden. Ihr Haar hatte sie in einem Pferdeschwanz zusammengebunden und darüber trug sie eine weiße Kappe. In ihrer Hand hatte sie ein Tablett mit drei Weingläsern und zwei Gläsern mit Mineralwasser.

„Meister“, begrüßte sie mich. Dann wurde sie rot. „Ich meine, Mr. Mark.“

„Pass nur auf, dass Mary so etwas nicht mitbekommt“, sagte ich. „Sie sucht jemanden, dem sie den Hintern versohlen kann.“

„Danke für die Warnung, Sir.“ Fiona lächelte und ich folgte ihr ins Wohnzimmer, wo sie die Gläser auf kleinen Sets auf dem Tisch abstellte.

Marys Familie und die Freunde ihrer Schwestern saßen alle nervös im Wohnzimmer. Ich kannte dieses Gefühl ganz genau von meinem Job als Staubsaugervertreter. Selbst nach Jahren, in denen ich diesen Job ausgeübt hatte, fühlte ich mich jedes Mal ein wenig unwohl in einem neuen Haus. Marys Vater stand auf. Er war ein großer Mann, ein wenig korpulent in der Mitte. Er hatte rotes Haar, das von grauen Strähnen durchzogen war. Er hatte es in einem Pferdeschwanz zusammengebunden und ein hellroter Bart bedeckte sein schmales Gesicht. Er hatte grüne Augen in derselben Farbe, die auch Mary hatte.

„Mark?“ fragte er und hielt mir seine Hand hin.

„Ja“, antwortete ich. Er hatte einen festen Griff. „Ich bin Mark Glassner. Sie müssen Sean sein.“ Ich bemerkte einen goldenen Ehering an seinem Finger. „Oh, Mary hat mir gar nicht gesagt, dass Sie wieder geheiratet haben.“

Sean blinzelte, dann schaute er auf seine Hand. „Oh nein, es ist nur…“ Er seufzte. „Ich bin sicher, Mary hat Ihnen von ihrer Mutter erzählt.“

Ich nickte. Mary hatte mir erzählt, dass ihre Mutter als sie sechs Jahre alt war, mit einem Musiker durchgebrannt war. Ihre Mutter wollte Spaß haben, also verließ sie ihre Familie, um mit irgendeiner Indi-Rock-Band herumzuhuren. Marys Mutter hatte einen detaillierten Brief geschrieben und ihrem Mann all den Spaß beschrieben, den sie mit ihrem Freund und auch mit anderen hatte. Sie hatte sich scheiden lassen und hatte auch das Erziehungsrecht für ihre Töchter abgegeben. Mary war heute noch verletzt von ihrem Verhalten.

„Tut mir leid“, sagte ich. Mir fiel nichts Besseres ein. Dieser Mann war anscheinend nie darüber hinweg gekommen, dass seine Frau ihn verlassen hatte.

„Es geht mir gut“, sagte Sean. „Egal, das hier ist meine Älteste, Shannon.“ Sean zeigte auf eine feuerrote Frau Anfang Zwanzig. Shannon war größer als Mary und sie hatte das schmale Gesicht ihres Vaters. Wenn sie nicht das rote Haar gehabt hätte, wäre ich nie auf die Idee gekommen, dass sie Marys Schwester war. Sie hatte eine enge Bluejeans an, die ihren festen Arsch zeigte und eine lila Trachtenbluse, die mit kleinen purpurfarbenen Blumen am Ausschnitt verziert war.

„Ich freue mich, dass wir uns kennenlernen“, rief Shannon und warf ihre Arme um meinen Hals. Sie drückte mich. Ich spürte, wie sich ihre Brüste durch die lockere Bluse an mich drückten. Sie fühlten sich größer an als die von Mary.

Shannon ließ mich wieder los und sah mich von oben bis unten an. „Du bist auf jeden Fall schon mal besser angezogen als Mike“, sagte sie. Mike war das Arschloch, mit dem Mary ging, als wir uns trafen. Die beiden kannten sich seit ihrer Zeit in der Oberschule und er nutzte sie aus. Mary hatte Angst, so zu werden wie ihre Mutter und deshalb lief sie nicht weg sondern blieb bei ihm, selbst als sie den Eindruck hatte, dass er sie betrog. Irgendwann einmal würde ich mir diesen Typ mal vornehmen und ihn dafür bestrafen, wie er sie behandelt hatte.

„Pass ja auf, dass du ihr nicht das Herz brichst“, warnte Shannon mich mit der Entschlossenheit einer Mutter.

„Das tue ich bestimmt nicht“, sagte ich. Ihre Augen hatten die Farbe von Haselnüssen mit kleinen grünen Sprenkeln. Sie bohrten sich in mich. „Ich liebe sie.“

Da lächelte sie wieder.

Die Jüngste, Missy, stand hinter ihrer Schwester. Missy sah aus, wie eine jüngere Ausgabe von Mary. Sie hatte dasselbe herzförmige Gesicht, das mit Sommersprossen bedeckt war, aber sie hatte blaue Augen. Ihr Haar war heller, rotblond. Sie hatte zwei Zöpfe. Sie war schlaksig, offenbar noch in der Entwicklung und sah so aus, als wäre sie etwa fünfzehn Jahre alt. Sie quietschte glücklich und warf sich mir an den Hals.

„Oh mein Gott, ich kann die Hochzeit gar nicht erwarten“, sprudelte Missy. „Ich habe mir schon immer einen großen Bruder gewünscht!“ Sei drückte ihre Lippen schnell an meine Wange und ließ mich wieder los.

„Ich… äh…, nett dich kennen zu lernen, Missy“, stammelte ich. Ich war durch ihren Enthusiasmus leicht verstört. Ihr Körper hatte sich so gut angefühlt, als sie sich gegen mich gedrückt hatte, kleine Brüste und die geschmeidige Figur eines Teenagers. Mein Schwanz wurde in meiner Hose noch härter, als ich daran dachte, dass ich diese beiden Mädchen noch heute Abend ficken würde. Ich wollte es eigentlich sofort tun, aber Mary wollte erst ein schönes normales Abendessen mit ihrer Familie.

„Ich bin George, Shannons Freund“, sagte ein Mann in meinem Alter. Er hatte kurzes schwarzes Haar. Er hatte die typische Frisur eines Geschäftsmannes. Er war ganz ordentlich angezogen. Er trug eine graue Hose und ein weißes Hemd und darüber eine graue Weste. Er hatte einen grauen Filzhut auf dem Kopf und ich musste beinahe lachen. Er versuchte, cool auszusehen und ihn nicht gleich herunter zu nehmen. Ich schüttelte seine Hand. „Du hast ein tolles Haus. Mary hat nie erwähnt, was du so machst.“

Ich lächelte. „Poker“, sagte ich. „Ich bin Berufsspieler.“

„Kein Bankräuber?“ fragte George. Ganz offensichtlich hatte er die Nachrichten gesehen.

Nun, das war ich wirklich und mit meinen Kräften war das ein Kinderspiel. „Nein, das war ein Missverständnis. Du kannst Mary gerne fragen. Sie war dabei, als das eine oder andere passiert ist. Und trotzdem hat sich das FBI nicht davon abhalten lassen, meine Tür aufzubrechen und uns zu erschrecken.“

„Natürlich“, sagte Sean. „Warum sollte sich Mary auch mit einem Bankräuber einlassen?“

Gott, es fiel mir schwer, ernst zu bleiben. Mary hatte keine Einwände erhoben, als ich ihr gesagt hatte, dass ich eine Bank ausgeraubt hatte, im Gegenteil, sie war nass geworden davon und wir hatten leidenschaftlich gefickt. Der letzte unserer Gäste saß still auf dem Sofa und nippte an seinem Mineralwasser. Er war ein Teenager. Fünfzehn oder so, im gleichen Alter wie Missy. Er trug ein rotes Kapuzenshirt und eine Jeans. Sein linkes Ohr war gepierct und sein Haar war lang und an den Seiten rasiert. Ich schaute ihn fragend an.

„Das ist Damien“, sagte Missy aufgeregt. „Wir gehen schon ewig miteinander! Schon seit dem Frühling! Er ist der Allerbeste!“ Missy starrte mit glasigen Augen auf den Jüngling. Jugendliebe tropfte aus ihrem ganzen Körper.

„Hi“, murmelte er und er schrumpfte in die Couch hinein, weil alle Erwachsenen ihn anschauten.

Alle setzten sich wieder. Die Erwachsenen nahmen ihre Weingläser und Missy nahm sich das andere Mineralwasser, Shannon und George saßen nebeneinander auf der Couch neben Damien. Sean saß auf einem Sessel und Missy hatte es sich auf einer Lehne der Couch neben ihrem Damien bequem gemacht. Dessen Augen klebten an ihren schlanken Beinen und er hielt sein Glas vor seinen Schoß.

Ich war offenbar nicht der Einzige, der ein wenig Entspannung brauchte, dachte ich mit einem Lächeln.

„Poker also, das muss sehr aufregend sein“, sagte Sean. „Ich arbeite nur als Englischlehrer an der Oberschule.“

„Oh, ich denke, dass die Arbeit an einer Oberschule auch sehr aufregend sein kann.“ Ich dachte an den Spaß, den ich heute an der Rogers Oberschule gehabt hatte. Das war ein Fehler. Ich musste jetzt wirklich etwas mit meinem Schwanz machen.

Fiona stand am Ende des Tisches. Sie sah in ihrem Outfit so süß und sexy aus. Gott, ich konnte einfach nicht bis nach dem Abendessen warten, ich musste jetzt etwas ficken! Ich fing ihren Blick auf und bedeutete ihr, dass sie in den Flur gehen sollte, wo hinter der ersten Tür das Bad lag.

Thamina kam herein. „Kann ich etwas für Sie tun, Mei.., Mister Mark?“

„Nein, ich gehe mal eben zu Desiree, um zu sehen, was das Essen macht. Sie ist eine wunderbare Köchin. Thamina wird für euch sorgen.“ Ich stand auf. „Entschuldigt mich bitte einen Moment.“

„Mein Gott, ich bin schon am Verhungern“, sagte Shannon. „Ich habe heute Mittag nur einen Salat gegessen. Ich muss auf meine Figur aufpassen.“ Sei kicherte und nahm einen Schluck Wein. Ich schaute ihre Figur an, und was auch immer sie machte, es funktionierte.

„Wie viele Angestellte habt ihr denn?“ fragte Sean. Er schaute auf Thamina. „Sind das nicht ein bisschen viel?“

„Ach, wir haben genug“, antwortete ich. „Mary wollte, dass der heutige Abend ganz besonders wird. Wenn ihr mich bitte jetzt entschuldigen wollt“, sagte ich. Ich brauchte wirklich endlich eine Entspannung für meinen Schwanz.

Ich verschwand im Esszimmer und ging durch die Küche. Es roch dort sehr lecker und Desiree sah mich neugierig an, als ich an ihre vorbei ging. Ich ging an der anderen Seite aus der Küche hinaus und kam in einen weiteren Flur. Dieser Flur führte zur Treppe in die erste Etage und zu dem Bad, in dem Fiona schon auf mich wartete. Sie hatte ein verdorbenes Lächeln auf dem Gesicht. Ich schloss die Tür und hielt meinen Finger auf meine Lippen. Fionas Lächeln wurde breiter.

Ich beugte sie über das Waschbecken, schlug den schwarzen Rock ihres Kostüms und die Petticoats nach oben und legte ihren Arsch frei und den nassen Schlitz ihrer Fotze. Ihre Vulva war vor Sehnsucht geschwollen und ihre kleinen Schamlippen ragten zwischen den äußeren hervor. Ich fischte meinen Schwanz heraus und seufzte erleichtert, als ich ihn langsam in Fionas warmen Schlitz schob.

Ich fickte sie langsam mit starken tiefen Stößen und genoss das fantastische Gefühl ihrer Muschi an meinem Schwanz. Fiona legte eine Hand auf ihren Mund, um ein Stöhnen zu unterdrücken. Es war etwas sehr Erregendes dabei, eine Frau zu ficken, wenn quasi nebenan eine ganze Gruppe Menschen sich unterhält. Es wurde im Wohnzimmer langsam lauter, weil der Wein die Stimmung hob.

Die Tür zum Bad wurde geöffnet und eine verblüffte Missy Sullivan schaute herein. Ihr Mund stand offen. Sie wusste nicht, wie sie sich verhalten sollte. Dann erschien auf ihrem Gesicht Zorn anstelle der Überraschung und sie schaute mich mit ihren blauen Augen an. Sie atmete tief ein und wollte schon schreien und ich wollte ihr schon einen Befehl geben, als Mary plötzlich hinter ihr stand und eine Hand auf den Mund ihrer kleinen Schwester legte.

„Schsch, Missy, ich bin es“, flüsterte Mary. „Ich lass dich wieder los, aber du darfst nicht schreien.“

Missy nickte. „Dein Verlobter ist… ist… mit einer anderen Frau…“ Missys Gesicht war rot wie eine Tomate und sie versuchte, wegzuschauen, aber ihr Blick hing an der Stelle, an der mein Schwanz sich in Fionas Fotze rein und raus bewegte.

„Das ist okay, Baby“, flüsterte Mary. Sie schob Missy vorsichtig ins Bad und schloss die Tür hinter sich. „Mark ist ein echter Mann“, fuhr Mary fort und flüsterte ihrer Schwester ins Ohr. Sie waren gleich groß. Mary legte einen Arm um Missy und drückte sich an ihren Rücken. „Und ein richtiger Mann nimmt sich wen er will wann er will.“

„Aber… aber…“ wollte Missy protestieren. Ihre Gedanken schwirrten durcheinander durch ihren Kopf.

„Komm, schau zu, wie ein richtiger Mann fickt“, schnurrte Mary. „Schau zu, wie sich ein richtiger Mann seine Lust bei einer verdorbenen kleinen Schlampe befriedigt, die später verhauen werden wird.“ War es fair, Fiona dafür zu bestrafen, dass sie meinen Befehlen gehorcht hatte? Nein, aber das konnte Mary nicht aufhalten. Sie verhaute nun einmal gerne Ärsche und würde jede Ausrede benutzen, um das zu rechtfertigen.

Meine Stöße wurden heftiger. Ich liebte es immer, Zuschauer zu haben und Marys kleine Schwester war eine wirklich verlockende Zuschauerin. Das musste wohl auch Fiona denken, den sie schrie jetzt in ihre Hand, während ihre Fotze jetzt meinen Schwanz fest umkrampfte. Vielleicht lag das aber auch daran, dass sie erregt war, weil sie von Mary verhauen werden würde.

„Der ist groß!“ bewunderte Missy mich. „Viel größer als der von Damien.“

„Damien ist ja auch erst fünfzehn“, sagte Mary. „Er wird schon noch ein wenig wachsen. Stell dir mal diesen Schwanz in deiner Muschi vor, Missy. Der würde sich sicher besser anfühlen als das kleine Teil von Damien. Bestimmt würdest du toll kommen! Bist du eigentlich schon einmal mit Damien gekommen?“

„Nein“, flüsterte Missy. „Es fühlt sich zwar gut an, aber es kommt mir nie.“ Missy biss sich auf die Unterlippe. „Willst du etwa, dass ich mit ihm…?“

„Wie fändest du das?“ fragte Mary.

„Ich liebe Damien“, sagte Missy. „Und Damien liebt mich auch. Ich habe ihm meine Jungfräulichkeit geschenkt. Wir werden heiraten und ganz viele Kinder haben.“

„Natürlich, Kleines“, flüsterte Mary. „Aber Ficken und Liebe haben nichts miteinander zu tun. Mark liebt mich, aber er fickt gerade Fiona. Und ich liebe Mark und ich ficke andere Leute.“

„Wirklich?“ fragte Missy neugierig. „Wen?“

„Fiona hier.“

„Du machst es mit einer Frau?“ keuchte Missy. „Wow!“

„Es kommt ihm gleich“, sagte Mary. „Scheu dir genau sein Gesicht an. Seine Eier sind soweit. Wenn ein Mann so schaut, dann kann ihn nichts mehr aufhalten.“

Ich biss meine Zähne zusammen. Die Unterhaltung der beiden trieb mich über die Kante und ich gab Fiona meine Ladung. Ich zog meinen Schwanz aus Fiona heraus und Missys Augen hingen an meinem nassen Schwanz und dann sah sie, wie mein weißer Saft aus Fionas Fotze lief.

„Das war die Arbeit eines richtigen Mannes, Missy“, sagte Mary. „Erzähl bitte keinem davon. Das hier bleibt unser kleines Geheimnis, okay?“

Missy nickte. Sie starrte erstaunt auf Fionas Muschi. Mary öffnete die Tür und gab ihr einen kleinen Schubs. Dann ging sie um mich herum. Selbst zornig sah Mary in ihrem schwarzen Kleid atemberaubend aus. Es war eng und klebte an ihren Kurven. Und es hatte einen tiefen Ausschnitt und zeigte eine Menge von ihren Titten. Schwarze Strümpfe bedeckten ihre schlanken Beine. Sie wurden von einem Strumpfhaltergürtel gehalten, dessen Clips unter dem Kleid hervorschauten.

„Du solltest dich benehmen, Mark Glassner“, sagte sie ärgerlich.

„Sorry Mare“, entschuldigte ich mich. „Ich war geil.“

Mary rollte die Augen. „Wann bist du mal nicht geil?“

„Nie.“ Ich lächelte. „Du siehst atemberaubend aus, Mare. Ich liebe dieses Kleid an dir.“ Mary lächelte.

„Hast du jetzt genug Druck abgelassen oder muss ich mir Sorgen machen, dass du dich beim Essen wegstiehlst und eine der Schlampen in den Arsch fickst?“

„Ich werde brav sein“, versprach ich.

Mary schlug Fiona auf den Arsch. „Wisch das Sperma weg und komm zum Bedienen.“ Dann fasste Mary mich am Arm und zog mich aus dem Bad heraus.

Shannon und Sean freuten sich, als sie Mary sahen. Und Missy hatte ein wissendes Lächeln auf den Lippen, als Fiona ein wenig nervös hereinkam. Aber sie sagte nichts. Shannon umarmte ihre Schwester ein wenig länger als Schwestern das normalerweise machen und ihre Hand streichelte Marys Rücken ein wenig sinnlicher, als man das normalerweise erwarten würde. Marys Wunsch, dass alle Frauen sie begehren sollten, funktionierte bei ihren Schwestern auch, besonders bei Shannon.

Das Abendessen war köstlich und bestand aus mehreren Gängen. Zuerst gab es eine delikate Tomatensuppe, natürlich selbstgemacht und anschließend kam ein Salat mit Mandeln. Als Hauptgang gab es Täubchen in Limone und Paprika mit einer delikaten Brotfüllung. Als Beilage gab es Stampfkartoffeln mit einer pikanten Soße. Der Wein floss reichlich und alle amüsierten sich und lachten viel. Es stellte sich heraus, dass Sean ein Spaßvogel war. Er erzählte gerne Geschichten aus der Schule von den Streichen, die die Schüler immer wieder anstellten.

Damien kam ein wenig aus sich heraus, als sich herausstelle, dass wir beide „Call of Duty“ spielten. „Der zehnte Teil wird sicher der Hammer werden!“ rief Damien. „Das wird sicher der absolute Heuler auf der Xbox Live!“ Er war eigentlich ein ganz netter Kerl, als er erst einmal seine Schüchternheit überwunden hatte. Missy saß neben ihm und nickte immer, wenn Damien etwas sagte. Aber sie starrte ständig mich an. Dabei hatte sie dieses Lächeln und diese leicht geröteten Wangen.

Shannon und ihr Freund unterhielten sich mit Mary. Shannon schaute fast die ganze Zeit in Marys Ausschnitt und immer wieder erzitterte Mary leicht. Mary lehnte sich zu mir und flüsterte mir zu, dass ihre Schwester mit ihr unter dem Tisch füßelte. Dabei ging sie gelegentlich so weit, mit ihrem Fuß bis zu Marys Muschi zu gehen und durch den Stoff ihres Höschens über ihren Kitzler zu reiben.

George hatte keine Ahnung von den Aktivitäten seiner Freundin unter dem Tisch. Das Gespräch drehte sich um meine Poker-Karriere und ich benutzte alles, was ich jemals aus der World Poker Series mitbekommen hatte, um mich durch dieses Gespräch zu lavieren. Es war Mary wichtig, dass ich keine Kontrolle auf ihre Familie ausübte, wenn das nicht nötig war.

Als das Dessert serviert wurde, entschuldigte sich Mary, um zur Toilette zu gehen und Shannon folgte ihr. Als Mary zurückkam, war ihr Haar ein wenig zerzaust und ihr Lippenstift war verschmiert. Ich zog sie zu mir und küsste sie und sie flüsterte: „Shannon hat mich geküsst.“

George küsste Shannon, als sie sich setzte. Teller mit Schokoladenkuchen und Vanilleeis wurden von Desiree selber hereingetragen und alle lobten das Essen. Sean bestand darauf, dass sie sich zu uns setzte und mit Thamina und Fiona etwas von dem Kuchen aß.

„Ich bin satt“, sagte Shannon. „Es hat sich gelohnt, den ganzen Tag zu hungern. Aber ich muss sicher jetzt eine Extrastunde im Fitness-Studio verbringen, um das alles wieder abzutrainieren.“

Eine weitere Flasche Wein wurde geöffnet und irgendwann fing zu Marys Verlegenheit ihr Vater an, von ihrer Kuscheldecke zu erzählen. „Mr. Fuzzydown, so hieß sie“, lachte Sean. „Und sie hat sie überall hin mitgeschleppt. Wenn Leute sie danach gefragt haben, hat sie immer gesagt ‚das ist Mr. Fuzzydown, mein Butler‘. Sie hatte sich in den Kopf gesetzt, dass ein Butler Leute beschützt.“

„Ich war damals vier Jahre alt, Papa.“ Mary wurde rot. „Ich habe bestimmt mal als kleines Kind irgendeinen dummen Film gesehen.“

„Sie wollte die Decke auch nie von ihrer Mutter oder von mir waschen lassen“, sagte Sean und Mary und ihre Schwestern verstummten. Sean räusperte sich. „Wie auch immer, es ist schon spät und ich sollte Damien jetzt nach Hause bringen.“

„Ach nein, es ist noch viel zu früh um zu gehen“, schmollte Mary. „Mark könnte doch mit Damiens Eltern reden und das regeln, Er ist sehr überzeugend. Wenn das mit seiner Poker-Karriere mal nicht mehr funktioniert, kann er noch in den Verkauf gehen. Er wird sich da dumm und dämlich verdienen. Außerdem haben meine Schwester und ich ein paar Frauensachen zu erledigen.“

„Was?“ fragte Missy aufgeregt.

Mary lächelte ihre Schwester nur geheimnisvoll an und drehte sich, um nach oben zu gehen. Shannon folgte ihr eilig. Wahrscheinlich hoffte sie darauf, dass sie sich weiter küssen könnten. Missy schaute mich an, wurde rot und beeilte sich, den beiden auch zu folgen.

Nachdem ich mit Damiens Eltern gesprochen hatte, zogen wir Männer uns ins Wohnzimmer zurück. „Ich habe ein Geschenk für euch“, sagte ich. „Gerade im Moment machen Mary und ihre Schwestern Liebe miteinander und ich werde nachher auch gehen und ihnen Gesellschaft leisten.“

Alle drei starrten mich an, als würde ich eine Fremdsprache sprechen. „Das ist nicht witzig, Mann“, sagte George. Seine Stimme klang ein wenig erhitzt.

„Es ist völlig in Ordnung, dass Mary und ich Sex mit den beiden haben“, sagte ich ruhig. „Euch macht das nichts aus. Und ich bin ganz sicher, dass es euren Freundinnen nichts ausmacht, wenn ihr heute Abend auch umgelegt werdet.“

Die Schlampen Desiree, Fiona und Thamina hatten nur auf mein Signal gewartet. Jetzt kamen sie nackt herein. Desiree hatte nussbraune Haut und ihre großen Brüste schwangen hin und her, als sie ging. Fionas Brüste hatten eine nette Größe, sie waren kleiner als die von Desiree und waren von roten Nippeln gekrönt. Ein Landestreifen aus feuerrotem Haar führte zu ihrer Muschi. Thamina trug immer noch ihr Kopftuch. Ihre dunklen Brüste waren von dunklen Nippeln gekrönt und ein V aus Haaren zeigte auf ihre Muschi.

„Sean, als mein künftiger Schwiegervater hast du das Recht der ersten Wahl“, sagte ich.

Sean schluckte und schaute mich an. „Ich hatte schon keine Frau mehr, seit…“ Seit seine Frau ihn verlassen hatte.

Ich nickte. „Dann ist es höchste Zeit, das zu ändern. Wähl eine aus und du wirst einen Abend erleben, den du nie vergessen wirst.“

„Gott, sie sind alle so wunderschön“, stöhnte er und er wählte Fiona.

Fionas blaue Augen funkelten vor Lust und sie drückte Sean in den Sessel. Dann breitete sie sich auf seinem Schoß aus und fing an, ihn zu küssen. Sean saß einen Moment stocksteif da. Dann schlang er seine Arme um sie und erwiderte ihren Kuss genauso leidenschaftlich.

Damien nahm sich Desiree. „Deine Titten sind so groß“, stöhnte er. „Wie die von Mrs. Corra, meiner Mathelehrerin.“ Langsam streckte er die Hand aus und drückte ihre große Titte. „Sie sind so weich und doch gleichzeitig so fest!“ bewunderte er sie.

„Nicht so feste“, beschwerte sich Desiree. „Eine Frau muss sanft angefasst werden.“

„Zeigst du mir das?“ fragte er aufgeregt. „Zeigst du mir, wie man eine Frau befriedigt?“

Sean war zu sehr mit Fiona beschäftigt, dass er die Auswirkungen dieses Statements nicht mitbekam. Wie ich im Bad mitbekommen hatte, war Missy nicht besonders zufrieden mit den Leistungen von Damien. Aber der Junge war wissbegierig und schon lag Desiree auf der Couch und sie erklärte ihm, wie er ihre Brüste behandeln sollte.

Thamina ging schüchtern zu George. Sie war bei Fremden immer schüchtern. Ihre moslemische Erziehung hatte sie nie den Gelüsten ihres Körper nachgeben lassen. George nahm ihr Kinn in die Hand und küsste sie, bis sie aufhörte zu zittern und dann setzte er sie auf den anderen Sessel. Er spreizte ihre dunklen Schenkel und Thamina stöhnte. George, so schien es, brauchte keine Lektionen, wie man eine Frau befriedigt.

Fiona legte einen Finger auf ihre Lippen, während ihre andere Hand sich in der Hose von Sean zu schaffen machte. „Ich werde mich schon um dich kümmern.“

Sie erhob sich und ich konnte Seans Penis unter ihrer gewachsten Muschi sehen, als sie ihn in ihre Fotze dirigierte. Dann ließ sie sich wieder herunter und dann stöhnte sie, als er sich vorzeitig gleich in ihr ergoss. „Sorry“, stammelte er. „Es ist schon so lange her…“

„Du musst dich nicht entschuldigen“, sagte Fiona. Sie hob sich auf seinem Schwanz, der noch hart war, obwohl er eben gespritzt hatte. „Jetzt, wo der erste Druck mal weg ist, wirst du schön lange durchhalten können.“

Sean murmelte: „Ich hatte ganz vergessen, wie toll sich das anfühlt!“

Auf der Couch brachte Desiree Damien jetzt gerade bei, wie man einer Frau die Möse leckt. „Uhhh, das ist gut. Der Kitzler ist sehr empfindlich, also sei ein bisschen vorsichtig damit. Ja, schöne kleine Bewegungen. Keine Angst, du darfst ihn ruhig küssen und daran saugen, aber pass mit deinen… ahhh… Zähnen auf“, keuchte sie. Sie spielte mit ihren Nippeln, während sich Damien mit ihrer Möse beschäftigte.

Mein Schwanz war hart in meiner Hose und dann fiel mir der Fehler in unserem Plan auf. Mary wollte zuerst alleine Liebe mit ihren Schwester machen. Dann würde sie mir eine SMS schicken, wenn sie bereit war, dass ich dazu kam. In der Zwischenzeit hatte ich dafür zu sorgen, dass ihr Vater und die Freunde ihrer Schwestern abgelenkt waren. Sie waren in der Tat abgelenkt. Aber wir hatten nur drei Schlampen bei uns. Ich hätte noch eine vierte Schlampe haben müssen, damit ich auch jemanden zum Spielen hatte.

Ich dachte kurz darüber nach, nach nebenan zu gehen. Dort waren die anderen Schlampen, die sich wahrscheinlich jetzt auch gerade eine gute Zeit bereiteten. Dann sah ich Fionas Arsch, die Sean ritt. Sie hatte ein freies Loch. Und Sean würde mein Schwiegervater werden, also gehörte er ja praktisch zur Familie, es wäre also ganz in Ordnung, seine Hure mit ihm zu teilen. Ich ging zum Sessel hinüber und mein Schwanz stieß gegen Fionas Arsch.

„Willst du mich… ähh… in den Arsch ficken, Meister?“ fragte Fiona und sie vergaß die richtige Anrede. Naja, die Katze war ja sowieso aus dem Sack, es war also eigentlich egal.

„Ja, Schlampe“, sagte ich. „Ich werde deinen sexy Arsch aufbohren.“

Ich glitt in ihren engen Arsch. Er war besonders eng, weil Seans Schwanz in ihrer Fotze steckte. „Was…“, wollte Sean protestieren, aber Fiona versiegelte seine Lippen mit ihren. Sei fickte uns jetzt beide und fand eine Rhythmus, der uns beiden gut gefiel.

Fiona beendete ihren Kuss und sie keuchte: „Oh verdammt, dein Schwanz fühlt sich so gut in meinem Arsch an, Meister. Und der Schwanz von Mr. Sullivan ist so toll in meiner Fotze! Danke, Meister.“

Ich fing an, Fiona zurück zu ficken und passte mich ihrem Rhythmus an. Ich genoss ihren süßen Arsch. Sean griff nach ihren Brüsten und saugte einen ihrer roten Nippel in seinen Mund. „Gott, dein Arsch fühlt sich fantastisch an, Schlampe!“ . stöhnte ich.

„Hmm, schön, dass dir mein Schlampenarsch gefällt, Meister“, stöhnte Fiona. „Willst du mir deinen Saft in den Arsch spritzen Wirst du mir meinen Schlampenarsch mit deinem Saft füllen?“

„Verdammte Schlampe“, stöhnte ich. Ihre Worte geilten mich auf.

Das Gefühl begann in meinen Eiern. Ich fickte Fionas Arsch so feste wie ich konnte und drückte damit ihre Fotze auf Seans Schwanz herunter. Mein künftiger Schwiegervater keuchte vor Lust, als Fionas Fotze immer wieder mit Wucht auf ihn nieder sauste. Ich fickte noch fester, drei kraftvolle Stöße und dann überflutete ich ihren Arsch mit meinem Saft.

„Oh Mann!“ stöhnte Sean. „Oh Mann! Das fühlt sich gut an! Es ist schon so lange her!“

„Mmmm, spritz mir deine Soße in die Fotze“, schnurrte Fiona, als ich mich herauszog und auf die Ottomane setzte. Ich beobachtete, wie sich Fionas Hüften hoben und senkten. Ihr Arschloch stand leicht offen und mein Sperma sickerte heraus. „Oh ja, ich liebe es, wenn Sperma in meine geile Fotze gespritzt wird! Ja!“ Noch mehr Sperma wurde aus ihrem Arsch heraus gepresst, als es Fiona kam. Dann rutschte sie von Seans Schoß herunter und säuberte mir gewissenhaft den Schwanz. Sean lag auf seinem Sessel und keuchte mit geschlossenen Augen.

George fickte jetzt Thamina. Er lehnte sich über sie und der Liegesessel wackelte von der Wucht ihres Fickens. Thamina hatte ihre Beine um seine Hüften geschlungen und sie zog ihn fest in ihre Fotze. Ihr Kopftuch hing halb herunter und gab ihr wundervolles schwarzes Haar frei. Der farbenfrohe Stoff lag auf ihrer Brust und ein Nippel lugte darunter hervor.

„Sorry“, entschuldigte sich Damien. Ich sah nach hinten und da war der Teenager zwischen Desirees Beinen und sein Sperma spritzte auf ihren Bauch.

„Das ist okay“, sagte Desiree. „Die meisten jungen Männer sind ein bisschen überreizt.“ Sie wichste seinen Schwanz. „Hmmm, du fühlst dich so an, als könntest du weitermachen.“

„Wow, du bist viel nasser als Missy war“, stöhnte Damien, als Desiree seinen Schwanz in ihre Fotze führte. „Oh Mann, wie machst du das mit deiner Fotze? Du drückst meinen Schwanz ja richtig.“

„Beckenbodentraining“, grinste Desiree.

„Du fühlst dich viel besser an als Missy“, sagte er.

„Du musst Missy nur richtig behandeln“, murmelte Desiree. „Dann ist sie eine geile Schnalle für dich. Außerdem wird der Meister ihr zeigen, wie man einen Mann behandelt. Du wirst bestimmt nicht enttäuscht sein.“

„Nicht?“ fragte Damien. „Wie kann sie sich mit dir vergleichen, Desiree?“

„Oh, das ist aber nett“, schnurrte Desiree und küsst ihn. Dann schlang sie ihre Beine um seine pumpenden Hüften.

„Ich meine das ernst, ich glaube, ich liebe dich!“ keuchte Damien.

„Nein, das tust du nicht“, sagte Desiree und streichelte sein Gesicht. „Du liebst, wie meine Möse dir gerade ein gutes Gefühl bereitet. Das ist Lust und nicht Liebe. Liebe ist reiner. Dabei geht es einfach darum, mit einem anderen zusammen zu sein. Seine Gesellschaft zu genießen. Ihm zu helfen. Und ihn zu vermissen, wenn er nicht da ist. Dabei geht es um Vertrauen und um Intimität.“

„Ich denke, dass ich diese Gefühle mit Tiffany hatte“, sagte Sean plötzlich. Er rieb sich das Gesicht. „Gott, ich vermisse sie noch immer.“

„Tiffany, ist das Marys Mutter?“ fragte ich. Fionas Saubermachen war zu einem sehr angenehmen Blowjob geworden. Ihr Mund bewegte sich auf meinem Schwanz auf und ab.

„Ja“, seufzte Sean. „Ich weiß einfach nicht, was da schiefgegangen ist. Ich glaubte, dass alles in Ordnung war. Ich meine, wir haben uns zwar gestritten, aber das war nichts Ernstes. Ich glaubte wirklich, dass sie mich liebte und dann… sie hat sich einfach so verändert. So als wäre sie eine ganz andere Person geworden. Wild und lüstern.“

„Das tut mir leid“, sagte ich. Ich fühlte mich nicht wohl. „Ich wüsste nicht, was ich ohne Mary tun würde.“

„Es ist so, als wäre ein Stück aus mir herausgerissen worden“, seufzte Sean. „Es tut jeden Tag weh. Dreizehn verdammt lange Jahre und ich liebe sie noch immer.“ Er nahm seinen Wein und schüttete ihn herunter. „Verdammt, ich muss betrunken sein!“

Ich schob Fiona von meinem Schwanz weg und sie verstand den Hinweis. Sie glitt auf Seans Schoß und hielt ihn an ihrer Brust. Er fing an zu weinen. George und Damien waren viel zu sehr mit Ficken beschäftigt, als dass sie etwas bemerkt hätten. Dann stand Fiona auf und führte Sean zu ihrem Bett. Sean ging hinter ihr her wie ein verlorener kleiner Junge. Sein Kopf hing nach unten.

Ich fühlte mich sehr unwohl. Um mich herum fickte Damien wie wild Desiree und lutschte gleichzeitig an ihren großen Titten und George besorgte es Thamina hart. Thamina stöhnte laut vor Lust. Brennender Hass auf Marys Mutter erfüllte mein Herz. Sean war ein toller Kerl und Mary und ihre Schwestern waren tolle Mädchen und sie hatte sie einfach für irgend so einen verdammten Musiker verlassen.

Wenn ich sie irgendwann in die Finger bekam, dann würde sie für all die Schmerzen bezahlen, die sie verursacht hatte.

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

Ich musste niesen, als ich aus dem Taxi ausstieg.

Im Taxi roch es nach Körpergeruch und einem ekelhaften Aftershave. Der Fahrer, ein schwarzer Haitianer, der kaum Englisch laberte die ganze Fahrt von der Pirates Rum Bar auf Haitianisch in sein Headset. Ich war froh, dass ich endlich aus der Karre rauskam. Es war schon spät, nach Mitternacht, später als ich mir das eigentlich vorgestellt hatte. Ich sah zwar aus wie achtzehn, aber ich fühlte mich wie die 44 Jahre, die ich alt war. Wir waren so spät unterwegs, weil der Türsteher an dieser Bar, der die minderjährigen Mädchen reinlässt, erst um Mitternacht anfängt.

Es war ein richtiges Bumslokal, aber draußen hingen jede Menge junger Leute. Das Gerücht mit dem Einlass für junge Leute hatte sich offenbar herumgesprochen und alle jungen Nachtschwalben kamen jetzt hier an. Der Laden sah von außen ziemlich abstoßend aus und ich hoffte, dass es innen nicht ebenso war. Ich hatte zu viel Zeit in derartigen Bumslokalen zugebracht, als ich vor dreizehn Jahren noch die Sklavin von Kurt Bronson gewesen war. Damals war ich Tiffany Sullivan gewesen, eine glückliche Ehefrau und Mutter.

Ich schloss die Augen und drückte die Tränen weg, die mir kamen, wenn ich an Sean dachte. Es tat immer noch weh, an Sean und an meine Töchter zu denken und an all das, was mir gestohlen worden war, aber ich kämpfte die Gedanken herunter. Ich war auf göttlicher Mission. Ich musste Antsy ficken, ein Mädchen, das nicht einmal entfernt neugierig auf bi war. Ich hatte sie schon beinahe zur Hälfte überzeugt, einen Dreier mit mir und einem Typ, den wir in der Bar aufgegabelt hatten, zu machen. Aus diesem Grund waren wir hier. Ich musste Antsy ins Bett bekommen, damit ich den Spruch von Avvah an ihr ausüben und sie damit zur Falle für ihren Bruder machen konnte.

Antsy stieg auf der anderen Seite des Taxi aus. Sie hatte ihre engste Hose an, eine Hüfthose, die glitzernde Herzen auf den Arschtaschen hatte und die alle Blicke auf ihre jugendlichen Kurven zog. Ihr Top war ein lockeres Ding. Es war oben um ihren Hals gebunden und unten um ihren Bauch und bestand eigentlich nur aus einem Tuch. Ihre Brüste schaukelten, wenn sie ging. Um ihren Bauch trug sie ein Goldkettchen, das die Blicke auf ihren nackten Bauch zog. Ihre Jeans war so tief geschnitten, dass ihr roter String deutlich zu sehen war. Die Mutter in mir fand diese Sachen absolut zu aufreizend, die Frau in mir dachte einfach nur, wie gnadenlos geil sie in diesen Sachen aussah und sie dachte daran, wie sehr ich in dieser Hose sein wollte.

„Das ist alles so aufregend“; kicherte Antsy. Das Mädchen war zum Feiern nach Miami gekommen und hatte in der letzten Nacht bereits einen One-Night-Stand gehabt. Sie freute sich schon auf den nächsten.

„Ja“, log ich. Ich fühlte mich innerlich nicht aufgeregt. Ich hatte Heimweh, aber ich war Schwester Theodora Miriam auf göttlicher Mission. Und ich würde die kleine Antsy ficken, egal was auch passieren würde.

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„Es ist noch viel zu früh um zu gehen“, schmollte ich. „Mark könnte doch mit Damiens Eltern reden und das regeln, Er ist sehr überzeugend. Wenn das mit seiner Poker-Karriere mal nicht mehr funktioniert, kann er noch in den Verkauf gehen. Er wird sich da dumm und dämlich verdienen. Außerdem haben meine Schwester und ich ein paar Frauensachen zu erledigen.“

„Was?“ fragte Missy aufgeregt.

Ich lächelte sie geheimnisvoll an, als ich nach oben ging. Ich sah mich um und bemerkte, dass Shannon mir eilig folgte. Shannon war sehr schnell meinen Kräften verfallen, von der Umarmung, mit der wir uns begrüßt hatten bis zum dem Füßeln unter dem Tisch. Das Ganze hatte seinen bisherigen Höhepunkt gehabt, als wir beide eine Minute lang vor dem Badezimmer geknutscht hatten. Normalerweise war meine Schwester immer absolut gehässig zu mir, aber meine Kräfte hatten sie sehr freundlich werden lassen. Als ich am oberen Ende der Treppe ankam, hörte ich Missys eilige Schritte hinter uns auf der Treppe.

„Wartet auf mich!“ rief sie.

Shannon sah ein wenig enttäuscht aus. Sie hatte offenbar erwartet, dass wir diesen Kuss in Zurückgezogenheit fortsetzen würden. Mein Wunsch, auf alle Frauen anziehend zu wirken, hatte unterschiedliche Auswirkungen auf unterschiedliche Frauen. Einige wurden sehr mutig, andere einfach nur freundlich. Aber jede einzelne gab meinen Avancen nach, selbst meine Schwestern. Oder meinetwegen auch die Hure von meiner Mutter, wenn sie denn irgendwann einmal auftauchen würde.

Aber natürlich würde das, was ich mit ihr machen würde, nicht besonders angenehm sein.

Ich verdrängte diesen Gedanken schnell wieder. Ich hatte jetzt zwei sexy Schwestern zum Spielen und ich öffnete die Tür zum Schlafzimmer, das ich mit Mark teilte. Die Schlampen hatten in der Zeit, in der ich mit Mark in der Dusche war, das Bett frisch bezogen. Mark und ich hatten einen sehr angenehmen Nachmittag verbracht. Zuerst hatten wir gefickt wie ein paar Teenager und dann hatten wir ein paar sehr angenehme Stunden damit verbracht, Liebe miteinander zu machen. Ich glaube, dass Mark ein wenig eifersüchtig darauf ist, wie viel Zeit ich mit Alice bei unseren Treffen im Blue Spruce verbrachte. Ich war mehr als glücklich, dass ich ihm beweisen konnte, dass ich genauso viel Zeit damit verbringen konnte, mit ihm Liebe zu machen.

Aber jetzt wollte ich Liebe mit meinen Schwestern machen. Sie waren beide wunderschön. Shannon mit ihren feuerroten Haaren und mit diesen Brüsten. Meine waren zwar schön fest, aber das waren Shannons auch und sie waren größer. Mike, mein Ex hatte sie immerzu angestarrt und das hatte mich so eifersüchtig gemacht. Missy war auch wunderschön. Sie war schlank und biegsam und voller jugendlicher Energie. Und ihr Haar war hinreißend rotblond.

Shannon leistete keinen Widerstand, als ich sie zu einem Kuss an mich zog. Sie schmolz geradezu an meinem Körper. Ich spürte, wie sich ihre Brüste an meine Titten drückten. Shannons Zunge glitt in meinen Mund und spielte mit meiner. Ihre Hände fuhren über meinen Rücken, an meinem Kleid nachunten bis zu meinem Arsch. Sie nahm unter meinem Kleid meine Arschbacken in die Hand. Ich tat es ihr gleich und umfasste ihren Arsch durch ihre enge Hose. Er war fest und knackig.

„Oh mein Gott“, sagte Missy. „Was macht ihr beiden denn da?“

Ich unterbrach den Kuss und streckte meinen Arm aus. Ich fasste Missy an ihrer Schulter und zog sie zu mir. „Wir drücken nur aus, wie sehr wir uns lieben.“

„Aber… aber…“ fing sie an zu protestieren, aber ich brachte sie mit einem Kuss zum Schweigen.

Missy war erstarrt. Ihre Lippen waren versiegelt. Dann wurde sie von ihrer Leidenschaft überwältigt und ihre Lippen teilten sich und erlaubten meiner Zunge, in ihren Mund einzudringen. Ihr Lippenstift schmeckte nach Wassermelonen und nach Schokoladenkuchen. Ihr schlanker Körper drückte sich an mich und ich schob eine Hand an ihrer Seite nach oben, um ihre knospenden Brüste unter dem weißen Top zu umfassen.

Ihr Kleid wurde von zwei schmalen Schulterträgern gehalten. Ich schob den einen Träger von ihrer rechten Schulter und den anderen von ihrer linken Schulter. Dann unterbrach ich den Kuss und Missy stand verblüfft da. Sie leckte ihre Lippen und ihre Augen waren ganz groß. Ich zog an ihrem Kleid und es rutschte ihr vom Körper. Sie trug einen trägerlosen grauen BH unter ihrem Kleid und ein passendes graues Höschen.

„Ist sie nicht wunderschön?“ flüsterte ich und Shannon umarmte mich von hinten und flüsterte in mein Ohr: „Ja.“ Und dann leckte ihre Zunge an meinem Ohrläppchen und ich schüttelte mich vor Lust. Ich spürte, wie sich nackte Haut von hinten an mich drückte und wie sich harte Nippel in meinen Rücken bohrten. Ich hatte gar nicht mitbekommen, dass sich Shannon ausgezogen hatte.

Missy zitterte vor mir und ich flüsterte: „Sch, es ist alles in Ordnung, Baby. Ich werde dir ein so tolles Gefühl machen.“

„Okay, Mary“, sagte Missy und sie zuckte zusammen, als ich meine Hand bewegte und ihr BH-Körbchen berührte. Ich fuhr mit einem Finger darunter, damit ich ihr Fleisch spüren konnte. Ich war sehr erfreut, dass der BH seinen Verschluss auf der Vorderseite hatte und ich machte ihn geschickt auf. Ihr BH glitt an ihren Armen herunter und lag dann auf dem Boden.

Missy nahm instinktiv ihre Hände hoch, um ihre knospenden Brüste zu bedecken, die von dunklen Nippeln gekrönt waren. Sie hatte, so wie ich auch, Sommersprossen und ihre Nippel hatten die gleiche dunkle Farbe wie auch meine, nur sahen sie ein wenig größer aus. Ich nahm ihre Hände und legte sie wieder an ihre Seiten. Ihre Nippel waren hart vor Erregung und ihre Brüste hoben und senkten sich mit ihrem heftigen Atem. Missy leckte sich die Lippen und starrte mich weit geöffneten Augen, als Shannon mich auf den Halsansatz küsste.

„Willst du dir nicht die Muschi von unserer kleinen Schwester anschauen?“ fragte ich über die Schulter.

„Doch, das würde ich gerne tun“, schnurrte Shannon. „Komm Baby, zeig uns, wie süß sie ist. Ich habe dich schon nicht mehr nackt gesehen, seit du vier warst und du gesagt hast, dass große Mädchen alleine baden.“

Missy schüttelte den Kopf. „Nein, ich bin zu verlegen.“

„Du lässt Damien doch auch deine hübsche kleine Muschi sehen“, schnurrte Shannon. „und du lässt ihn seinen kleinen Schwanz reinstecken. Sei doch nicht schüchtern. Es sind doch nur wir Mädchen.“

Missy wurde rot und schaute auf den Boden.

„Vielleicht fällt es dir ja leichter, wenn du die Muschi von deiner Schwester siehst“, sagte Shannon.

Missy nickte und Shannon zog den Reißverschluss an meinem Kleid nach unten. Und das, was eben noch so eng gewesen war, rutschte jetzt von meinen Schultern. Ich bewegte meine Schultern ein wenig und das Kleid rutschte an meinem Körper nach unten und landete auf einem Hauf an meinen Füßen. Ich war darunter nackt bis auf den Strumpfhaltergürtel, der meine schwarzen Strümpfe hielt.

„Wow“, sagte Missy erstaunt. „Du trägst ja gar keine Unterwäsche!“

„Was für ein verdorbenes Mädchen“, schnurrte Shannon und sie drückte meinen runden Po mit einer Hand.

„Und du hast dich rasiert, alles ist weg bis auf dieses süße kleine Herz hier“, flüsterte Missy.

„Ich habe dir meins gezeigt, kleine Schwester“, sagte ich. „Jetzt musst du uns aber auch deins zeigen.“

„Gut, aber nicht lachen“, sagte Missy. Sie hakte ihre Finger in ihr seidenes Höschen und zog es nach unten. Ihre Muschi war von wenigen roten Haaren umkränzt. „Ich bin wohl eine Spätentwicklerin. Meine ersten Haare sind erst vor sechs Monaten gewachsen.“

„Wunderschön“, flüsterte ich und streckte meine Hand aus. Ich legte sie auf ihr Schambein und fuhr durch das feine Haar und hinunter bis zu ihrer kleinen Perle. Ich ließ meinen Finger ganz leicht darüber fahren und sie schüttelte sich vor Lust. Dann fuhr ich mit meinem Finger weiter nach unten und durch ihren nassen Schlitz.

„Wow, das fühlt sich gut an“; sagte Missy. „Damien ist immer so roh, aber das hier… Wow!“

„Ich möchte wetten, dass Damien gerade eine Lektion bekommt, wie man eine Frau richtig befriedigt“, sagte ich.

„Was?“ fragte Missy verwirrt. „Willst du damit sagen, dass…“

„Hmm, unsere Zofen bedienen jetzt sicher gerade eure Freunde und Vater“, sagte ich ihr.

„Was?“ sagte Shannon. „George sollte aber besser nicht bedient werden.“

Ich drehte mich um. Mein nackter Nippel kratzte über Shannons nackte Brust. „Du bist die Richtige, jetzt eifersüchtig zu werden, wo du mit deinen Schwestern herumspielst!“

Shannon stammelte: „Das hier ist aber… das ist aber anders!“

„Wirklich, Süße?“ fragte ich und öffnete den Gürtel, der um ihre Hüfte lag und dann öffnete ich den Knopf ihrer Hose. „Möchtest du, dass ich aufhöre? Möchtest du nach unten gehen und dafür sorgen, dass George nicht dasselbe Vergnügen empfängt, das du gleich auch empfangen wirst?“ Ihr Reißverschluss lief nach unten und meine Hand schlüpfte in ihr Höschen. Shannons Muschi war rasiert und sie war nass. Mein Finger schlüpfte in sie hinein.

„Nein“, keuchte sie, als ich sie fingerte. „Ich glaube, das ist fair.“

Dann küsste sie mich auf die Lippen und ihre Hand streichelte meine Brust. Sie rollte meinen empfindlichen Nippel zwischen ihren sanften Fingern. Ich spürte eine weiche Hand an meinem Hintern und Missy drückte sich an mich. Ihr schütteres Schamhaar kitzelte an meiner Hüfte, während sie mit meinem Po spielte. Ihre harten Nippel kratzten über meinen Rücken und über meinen Arm und ihre Lippen waren flüssiges Feuer, als sie meinen Hals küsste.

„Das ist fair“, murmelte Missy.

Ich zitterte, als Missys Lippen meinen harten Nippel berührten und ihn in ihren Mund saugten. Shannon spielte mit dem anderen. Missy saugte und leckte und spielte mit dem harten Knöpfchen in ihrem Mund. Shannons Oberschenkel drängte sich zwischen meine Beine und meine Muschi hinterließ feuchte Schmierspuren, als ich mich auf ihr wand. Dann ließ Missy meinen Nippel los und riss Shannon die Jeans herunter.

„Du bist die einzige, die noch nicht nackt ist“, kicherte sie. „Fair ist fair!“ Und dann riss Missy auch noch Shannons rote dünne Unterwäsche herunter. Dann keuchte sie und hielt das zerrissene Teil hoch. „Das tut mir leid“, sagte sie kleinlaut.

„Warte, ich kriege dich“, rief Shannon und sprang Missy an, die nach hinten auswich, gegen das Bett stieß und rückwärts auf die Matratze fiel.

Schon war Shannon über ihr und Missy kicherte wegen der Kitzelattacke. Mark hatte schon einmal versucht, mich zu kitzeln und er hatte verloren. Er hatte ja keine Ahnung gehabt, mit welchen harten Gegnerinnen ich es früher zu tun gehabt hatte. Es waren Shannon, die manchmal absolut immun gegen Kitzeln schien und Missy, die mit ihren geschickten Fingern selbst Shannon zum Lachen brachte.

Meine Muschi lief aus, als ich sah, wie meine Schwestern über das Bett rollten. Ihre nackten Körper waren ganz erhitzt von der Anstrengung. Irgendwie kam Missy nach oben und sie nutzte ihren Vorteil aus und kitzelte Shannons Seiten. Shannon schien kurz davor zu sein, unter Missys Angriff zu unterliegen, aber das war nur eine Finte und Missy rollte von ihr herunter und heulte vor Lachen. Ihr Gesicht war rot wie eine Tomate.

„Du hast gewonnen…“ keuchte Missy. „Es tut mir… leid!“

„Nein, tut es nicht“, sagte Shannon und kitzelte sie weiter. „Aber es wird dir noch…“ Shannons Worte wurden abgeschnitten, als Missy sich aufsetzte und Shannon die Arme um den Hals schlang und sie auf den Mund küsste.

Shannons Angriff war beendet und sie schmolz gegen Missy. Mein Gott, war das erotisch, meine Schwestern miteinander schmusen und sich nackt an einander reiben zu sehen. Ich fuhr mit meiner Hand zu meiner nassen Muschi und fing an, sie langsam zu reiben. Immer wieder erhaschte ich kurze Blicke auf Shannons Muschi. Ihre inneren Schamlippen kamen aus den äußeren heraus und sie waren vor Lust angeschwollen. Und ich sah immer wieder auch Missys Schlitz, der von dünnen rotem Haar umkränzt war.

Ich streckte meine Hand aus und kniff in Shannons knackigen Arsch. Ich musste unbedingt mehr trainieren, dachte ich, als ich fühlte, wie fest ihr Arsch war. Mein Arsch ist ein bisschen zu weich, obwohl Mark das anscheinend liebte. Aber Shannons Arsch war fantastisch. Eine Stunde Training am Tag, hatte Shannon gesagt. Zwei Stunden am Samstag, damit sie am Sonntag faulenzen konnte. Shannon ignorierte, dass ich sie gekniffen hatte und schmuste weiter mit Missy.

Also machte ich dasselbe noch einmal, diesmal fester.

„Autsch!“ rief Shannon. „Bitch!“

„Ihr scheint eure andere Schwester zu vergessen“, schnurrte ich. „Legt euch auf den Rücken und lasst mich euch zu geilen Orgasmen fingern!“ Ich brauche euren Fotzensaft für einen Spruch hätte ich sagen sollen. Aber ich wollte das nicht aufbringen.

Missy legte sich zu meiner Linken und Shannon zu meiner Rechten auf das Bett. Ich kniete zwischen beiden und beugte mich vor, um zuerst Missys dunkle Nippel zu küssen und dann Shannons. Zu meiner Überraschung waren Shannons Nippel kleiner als meine, aber genauso hart und Shannon stöhnte anerkennend, als ich an ihren Titten lutschte. Dann fuhr ich mit meinen Händen an ihren beiden Bäuchen nach unten und rieb ihre beiden Fotzen gleichzeitig.

Ich wollte sie reizen und fuhr mit den Fingern an den Konturen ihres Geschlechtes entlang. Ich spielte mit ihren Schamlippen und fuhr manchmal fast wie zufällig über ihre Kitzler. Ich hatte Spaß daran, wie sie jedes Mal erzitterten. Ihr Haar war auf dem Bett ausgebreitet und Shannons feuerrotes Haar mischte sich mit Missys rotblondem.

„Bitte“, bettelte Shannon als Erste. „Ich brauche mehr!““

„Was brauchst du denn?“ fragte ich verschlagen.

„Deinen Finger in meiner Fotze!“ keuchte Shannon. Sie wand ihre Hüften, während ich sie sanft weiter streichelte.

„Und was ist mit dir, Baby?“

„Bitte Mary…“, flüsterte sie. „Ich möchte… ich möchte…“

„Kommen?“ fragte ich und sie nickte. „Dann sag es!“ zischte ich. „Ich will hören, wie du darum bittest.“

„Bitte steck deinen Finger in meine Muschi“, seufzte Missy. „Ich möchte… ich möchte Kommen. Ich muss dringend kommen! Es fühlt sich in mir an, als müsste ich explodieren!“

Meine beiden Schwestern stöhnten gleichzeitig, al sich ihnen jeweils einen einzelnen Finger hineinsteckte. Missy war natürlich enger, aber Shannon war nasser. Aus der Fotze meiner älteren Schwester lief so viel Saft, dass sich auf dem Bett unter ihrem Arsch ein nasser Fleck bildete. Langsam fickte ich ihre Mösen mit einem Finger, dann fügte ich einen zweiten hinzu. Und dann bei Shannon noch einen dritten. Missy war zu eng und ich wollte ihre kleine Muschi nicht ausleiern. Dann sollte später Marks Schwanz besorgen.

Missy kam als erste, als mein Daumen anfing, in konzentrischen Kreisen um ihren Kitzler zu fahren. Sie zuckte auf dem Bett und schlug eine Hand vor ihren Mund, damit man ihren Schrei nicht hörte. Genauso wie im letzten Jahr, als ich mein Zimmer noch mit ihr geteilt hatte. Missy fing an zu masturbieren, als sie dachte, dass ich eingeschlafen war und dann schlug sie ihre Hand auf ihren Mund, um ihr Stöhnen zu unterdrücken. Das funktionierte nicht halb so gut, wie sie glaubte. Allerdings war ich immer zu verlegen gewesen, um mit ihr darüber zu reden. Ich für meinen Teil besaß so viel Anstand, in der Dusche zu masturbieren oder dann, wenn sie nicht zu Hause war.

Ich brachte meine tropfende Hand zu meinem Gesicht und schmierte mir die Flüssigkeit auf mein rechtes Auge und dann sagte ich „Mowdah.“ Ich spürte, wie von meinem Auge aus Energie in mich hinein floss, als ich den Spruch gesagt hatte. Jetzt sollte ich in der Lage sein, eine Nonne zu erkennen. Dann leckte ich meine Finger ab und schmeckte den frischen würzigen Geschmack von Missys Fotze.

Ich fickte meine drei Finger schneller in Shannons Fotze, während Missy noch keuchte. Und ich rieb fester und schneller an ihrem Kitzler. Meine Finger machten ein nasses schmatzendes Geräusch, während ich sie in Shannons Fotze rein und raus bewegte. Ich fand Shannons Arschloch und schob ihr einen der Finger hinein, die noch mit Missys Saft bedeckt war.

„Oh wow!“ machte Shannon. „Ich habe noch nie… im Arsch…“

„Hmmm, das wird Mark gerne hören“, schnurrte ich und fickte ihre Fotze und ihren Arsch gleichzeitig mit meinen Fingern und rieb feste an ihrem Kitzler. „Wirst du jetzt für mich kommen?“

„Ja!“ kicherte Missy und rollte auf die Seite. Sie streckte die Hand aus, um mit Shannons Titte zu spielen. Sie drückte den dunklen Nippel mit ihren Fingern. „Komm, komm, komm“, fing Missy an zu singen, immer wieder. Sie fing ganz leise an und wurde dann immer lauter. „Komm, komm, komm!“

Shannon zuckte, ihr Orgasmus schien durch Missys Gesang ausgelöst worden zu sein. Flüssigkeit schoss aus ihrer Fotze, spritzte auf meine Hand und sickerte in das Laken. Meine Finger tropften von ihrem wässrigen Erguss. Ich wischte mir ihren Saft auf das linke Auge.

„Mowdah“, murmelte ich wieder und ich spürte dieselbe Energie durch mein linkes Auge fließen.

Shannon rang nach Atem du Missy starrte gebannt auf ihre Fotze. „Hast du dich eben bepisst?“ fragte Missy.

„Nein, nein“, keuchte Shannon. „Manchmal spritze ich, wenn ich total geil bin. Das ist nur Mösensaft.“

Ich starrte auf meine Schwestern und bemerkte etwas. Sie hatten einen ganz leichten silbernen Schein um sich. Ich konzentrierte mich und tatsächlich, da war ein silberner Schein. Waren meine Schwestern etwa Nonnen? Ich blinzelte überrascht. Einen kurzen Moment lang hämmerte nackte Panik in meinem Herzen. Nein, sie waren meine Schwestern. Aber was sah ich dann? Ich wollte Lilith fragen, aber ich traute ihr nicht, wenn meine Schwestern da waren. Oder auch alleine, um ehrlich zu sein.

Ich berührte Shannons Bein und sah Verbindungen in alle Richtungen an ihr ausgehen. Eine dicke silberne Verbindung ging zu Missy. Eine weitere dicke silberne Verbindung führte ins Haus. Eine dicke rote Verbindung schien zu mir zu existieren und eine dicke goldene Verbindung führte irgendwo hin, in Richtung Südosten. Ich versuchte, eine der Verbindungen anzufassen, aber meine Hand ging einfach hindurch.

Als ich Missy berührte, passierte dasselbe. Ähnliche Verbindungen zu Shannon und zu mir. Auch sie hatte diese dicke goldene Verbindung, die in Richtung Südosten ging. Missy griff nach meiner Hand und meine Konzentration war weg.

„Du hast uns fertig gemacht“, sagte sie und küsste mich.

„Also werden wir dich jetzt fertig machen“, sagte Shannon und rutschte an meinem Körper nachunten. „Ich habe noch nie eine Muschi geleckt, aber das wollte ich immer schon mal machen.“

Missys Zunge war in meinem Mund, als Shannon meine Schenkel auseinander drückte. Es kam mir in dem Moment, in dem Shannon mit ihrer Zunge durch meine Spalte fuhr. Shannons Zunge grub sich in meine Möse. Sie trank meinen Saft und Missys Mund fühlte sich geil an meinen Nippeln an. Ich atmete schwer, ein zweiter Orgasmus folgte dem ersten ganz schnell und ich wand mich auf dem Bett, als ich von der Lust übermannt wurde.

Missy und Shannon küssten mich überall. Die eine lutschte an meinen Titten, während die andere meine Fotze leckte und dann wechselten sie und küssten sich dabei über meinen Körper. Missy war eine gierige Fotzenleckerin und ich hatte meinen dritten Orgasmus, als sie ihre Zunge in meiner Fotze hatte. Ich badete das Gesicht mit einer erneuten Flut aus klebrigem Saft.

Dann hockte sich Shannon auf mein Gesicht. Ihre nasse Muschi schmeckte süß und würzig und ich leckte sie gierig. Missy nuckelte an meinem Kitzler und bewegte zwei ihrer Finger gleichmäßig in meiner Möse hinein und heraus. Ich genoss Shannons Muschi und ich trank ihren Geilsaft. Ihr Mösensaft war der flüssigste, den ich jemals erlebt hatte. Sie machte mein Gesicht richtig nass, während ich sie leckte. Ich spürte, wie ihr Saft in kleinen Bächen an meinen Wangen herunter lief. Er sammelte sich in meinen Ohren und machte auch mein Haar ganz nass. Weitere Bächlein liefen an meinem Kinn herunter und auf meinen Hals und zwischen meine Brüste.

Missy hockte sich über mich und Shannon ging an meine Fotze. Sie saugte an meinen Schamlippen, während Missy ihren gierigen Schlitz auf mein Gesicht senkte. Ich genoss auch ihre unschuldige Fotze und schmeckte das frische würzige Aroma ihrer Weiblichkeit. Ihr Kitzler war klein und Missy schüttelte sich über mir, als ich ihn zwischen meine hungrigen Lippen saugte.

Nachdem es uns beiden gekommen war, kuschelten wir uns aneinander. Wir waren alle von Mösensaft bedeckt und glühten noch von der Lust, die wir uns gegenseitig geschenkt hatten. Ich griff nach meinem Telefon. Meine SMS an Mark lautete: „Wir sind bereit für dich, mein Hengst *-)“

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Das Innere des Pirates Rum war erstaunlich sauber. Dubstep hämmerte durch die Bar und ich tanzte mit Antsy und einem kräftigen Typ namens Travis. Er war Bodybuilder. Seine gebräunten Unterarme waren so dick wie mein Oberschenkel. Antsy und ich rieben uns im Takt der Musik an seinen Hüften. Mein Höschen rieb sich geil an meiner nassen Fotze, während ich mich an ihm rieb.

„Wollen wir vielleicht woanders hingehen?“ fragte ich ihn. „Vielleicht in unser Hotelzimmer?“

„Mit euch beiden?“ fragte Travis. Seine Hand drückte meinen Arsch und seine andere Hand fummelte an Antsys Hintern.

„Ja“, kicherte Antsy. Ihr Gesicht war erhitzt von all den Drinks, die ich ihr den ganzen Abend lang gegeben hatte und sie bereit, gut und ausgiebig gefickt zu werden.

„Verdammt ja!“ rief Travis. Ein breites Grinsen erschien auf seinem Gesicht.

Travis brachte uns schneller aus dem Club raus und in ein Taxi rein als ich für möglich gehalten hätte. Er wollte schnell mit uns in unser Motel, bevor wir zu nüchtern wurden und er seine Chance auf einen flotten Dreier versäumte. Bei der Taxifahrt saß Travis zwischen uns beiden und fummelte erst mit Antsy und dann mit mir und dann wieder mit Antsy. Seine Hände waren überall an unseren Körpern und der Taxifahrer bekam eine ganz schöne Show, als sich der Knoten, der Antsys Oberteil hielt, irgendwie löste und ihre wunderschönen festen Brüste herausfielen.

Und dann war Antsy über Travis. Ihre Jeans waren bis zu den Knien heruntergerollt, als sie sich auf Travis Schoß setzte und sein Schwanz in ihrer Fotze verschwand. Sie saß mit dem Rücken zu Travis auf ihm und er packte sie von hinten. Er hatte kein Problem, sie auf seinem Schwanz auf und ab zu bewegen. Ihre saftigen Titten schaukelten auf und ab, während sie ihn fickte. Ich saugte einen Nippel in meinen Mund und nuckelte hungrig daran. Antsy war zu betrunken, zu sehr von ihrer Lust besessen, dass es ihr etwas ausgemacht hätte, dass eine Frau an ihrer Titte lutschte.

Wir kamen beim Motel an, bevor es Travis kommen konnte. Antsy zog ihre Hose hoch und lief zu unserem Zimmer. Ihre Titten waren noch entblößt und hüpften, während sie lief. Travis folgte ihr und ließ mich das Taxi bezahlen. Der Fahrer sagte etwas auf Spanisch und zeigte auf seinen Schoß. Ich schnaubte nur und ging auch zu unserem Zimmer.

Travis und Antsy hatten keine Zeit vergeudet. Er war auf ihr und fickte ihre Fotze hart und schnell. Antys Jeans hing noch an ihrem rechten Fuß. Ich zog mir mein Kleid und mein Höschen aus und kroch zu den beiden auf das Bett. Antsy keuchte wir eine Nutte, während er sie fickte und ich küsste sie auf die Lippen. Sie leistete einen kleinen Moment Widerstand, dann gab sie nach und erwiderte meinen Kuss.

Travis grunzte: „Enge Muschi, meine Güte, ist das eine enge Muschi!“ Seine Eier klatschten laut gegen ihren Arsch, während er sie gut und hart durchfickte. Dann spannte er seinen Rücken und seine Arschmuskeln wurden hart. Und dann spritzte er seine Ladung in Antsys Fotze.

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

„Wir sind bereit für dich, mein Hengst *-)“ las ich auf meinem Telefon.

„Ich wünsche euch noch einen schönen Abend“, sagte ich zu Damien und George. Damien lag auf Desiree, nachdem er zweimal in ihr gekommen war. George bekam gerade von Thamina seinen Schwanz gelutscht. Ihre Fotze war von unseren beiden Ergüssen noch vollgeschleimt. „Ich gehe jetzt eure Freundinnen ficken.“

Ich ging nach oben und betrat das Schlafzimmer. „… wird George mir einen Antrag machen“, sagte Shannon gerade, als ich das Zimmer betrat.

Es war ein wunderbarer Anblick, der sich mir bot. Mary lag in der Mitte des Bettes, Shannon links und Missy rechts von ihr. Alle drei waren wunderschön und alle drei waren von Lust erhitzt. Wen sollte ich zuerst ficken? Shannon mit den dicken Titten oder die unschuldige Missy. Ich dachte darüber nach, während ich mich auszog. Geschändete Unschuld gewann gegen dicke Titten und ich setzte mich neben Missy.

„Du wirst dich jetzt von mir ficken lassen“, sagte ich ihr und sie nickte und biss sich genauso süß auf die Unterlippe, wie Mary das immer machte.

Mary lachte. „Hab ich doch gesagt“, sagte sie zu Shannon.

„Männer sind Schweine“, seufzte Shannon. Sie richtete sich auf den Ellbogen auf. „Ich habe eben zwanzig Dollar verloren, Mark.“

„Hast du gedacht, ich lasse meine Verlobte im Stich?“ fragte ich lächelnd. Ich streckte mich neben Missy auf dem Bett aus und fuhr mit der Hand über ihren Bauch. Missy kicherte nervös.

Shannon schützte Überraschung vor. „Hier habt gegen mich konspiriert!“ sagte sie und tat so, als würde sie in Ohnmacht fallen. Sie legte ihren Handrücken gegen ihre Stirn und ließ sich auf das Bett fallen. „Meine eigene Schwester hat ein falsches Spiel mit mir gespielt!“

Mary grinste mich an und drehte sich zu Shannon. „Nun, du kannst deine Schuld auch anders begleichen“, sagte Mary verführerisch und dann beugte sie sich vor und küsste ihre ältere Schwester auf den Mund.

„Das war alles nur ein Trick, um mich zu verführen?“ übertrieb Shannon. „Ich glaube, ich habe keine Chance als mich deinen abscheulichen Gelüsten zu überlassen!“

„Echt abscheulich“, gackerte Mary und küsste sich über Shannons Bauch nach unten. Dabei drehte sie sich um. Dann hob sie eines ihrer Beine und setzte ihr Knie au die andere Seite von Shannons Gesicht. Sie ließ sich auf das Gesicht von Shannon nieder, während sie selber in die Muschi ihrer Schwester eintauchte. Ich schaute zu, wie die beiden ihren 69-er machten und vor Lust stöhnten, als sie sich gegenseitig die Fotzen verwöhnten.

Ich saugte einen von Missys Nippeln in meinen Mund, während meine Hand vorsichtig ihre andere schwellende Brust nahm. Ihre Nippel waren ein wenig größer als dir von Mary und genauso empfindlich. Missy stöhnte vor Lust, als ich mit meiner Zunge an ihrer harten Knospe spielte. Ich küsste mich hinüber zu ihrer anderen Brust und knabberte vorsichtig an ihrem Nippel. Gleichzeitig fuhr meine Hand nach unten über ihren straffen Bauch zu dem spärlich Haarwuchs zwischen ihren Beinen und zu dem nassen Loch, das davon bewacht wurde.

Missys Hüften hoben sich vom Bett, als mein Finger ihren Kitzler berührte. Dann keuchte sie, als ich an ihren Schamlippen entlang fuhr, bis ich das hungrige Loch zwischen ihren Beinen gefunden hatte und ihr einen Finger in ihre Fotze schob. Ich konnte es nicht abwarten, endlich meinen Schwanz in ihr enges kleines Loch zu bekommen. Ich fickte sie mit dem Finger und beobachtete meine Verlobte und ihre Schwester dabei, wie sie sich gegenseitig befriedigten. Dabei rieb ich Missys harten Nippel an meiner Wange. Shannon hatte ihre Arme um Marys Arsch geschlungen und sie spielte mit einem Finger an Marys Arschloch.

„Schieb ihn rein“, sagte ich zu Shannon. „Sie liebt das!“

Mary keuchte und schnurrte anschließend, als Shannon ihren Finger an ihrer kleinen Rosenknospe vorbei schob und anfing, ihre Eingeweide zu ficken. „Hmm, ich liebe es im Arsch. Danke, Liebling!“

„Ich werde immer darauf achten, dass es meinem Fohlen gut geht“, sagte ich. „Ich liebe dich.“

„Ahhh“, machte sie. „Auch dann, wenn du einen Finger in der kleinen Fotze meiner Schwester stecken hast?“

„Sogar dann, wenn ich meinen Schwanz in der kleinen Fotze deiner Schwester stecken habe!“ sagte ich und bestieg Missy.

Missys Beine spreizten sich willig für mich. Ihr Gesicht war vor Anstrengung und Erregung gerötet. Ihre Augen hingen an meinem steifen Schwanz. Ich wusste, dass ich größer war als Damien, aber er war schließlich auch erst fünfzehn und er würde sicher noch wachsen. Ich setzte meinen Schwanz am Eingang zu ihrer Fotze an und drückte dann langsam nach vorne.

„Oh wow!“ sagte Missy. „Der ist groß!“ Ihre Fotze gab meinem Schwanz nach und packte ihn mit seidiger Weichheit. Ich drückte weiter, bis ich ganz in ihr steckte.

„Deine Fotze fühlt sich toll an“, sagte ich, als ich anfing, sie langsam zu ficken. „Eng und schön seidig.“

Missy stöhnte unter mir. „Das fühlt sich besser an, als mit Damien“, flüsterte sie.

„Ich möchte wetten, dass er ihn einfach nur reinsteckt“, sagte ich. „Hat er dich nicht vorbereitet?“

„Nein“, gab Missy zu. „Wir wussten beide nicht richtig, was wir taten.“

„Nun, mach dir keine Sorgen. Desiree zeigt ihm gerade, was man tun muss, um eine Frau zu befriedigen“, sagte ich.

Ihre Fotze zog sich zusammen und auf ihrem Gesicht sah ich ein wenig Eifersucht. „Die Schlampe mit den dicken Titten?“ keuchte sie. „Er muss immerzu sabbern, wenn er dicke Titten sieht.“

„Er ist noch jung. Er hat noch nicht gelernt, all die unterschiedlichen Größen und Formen von Brüsten zu schätzen“, sagte ich. „Und deine sind ganz besonders bezaubernd.“

„Aber was ist, wenn er… Desiree mehr mag als mich?“ fragte sie plötzlich. Gott, sie ruinierte noch die Stimmung mit diesem Gelaber über ihren Freund.

„Liebst du ihn?“ fragte ich sie leise. Meine Eier schlugen gegen ihren Arsch, während ich langsam Tempo aufnahm.

„Ja“, antwortete sie. „Ich will ihn heiraten und seine Babys haben und ich möchte in einem großen Haus mit ihm zusammen leben.“

„Ich kann sicherstellen, dass er dich auf ewig liebt und dich nie verlässt.“

„Wirklich!“ keuchte sie. Ihre Hüften fingen jetzt an, sich unter mir zu bewegen und ihre Stimme wurde höher, während die Lust unseres Ficks jetzt durch ihren Körper floss. „Ja, das möchte ich gerne so haben.“

„Missy, du liebst Damien von ganzem Herzen für immer und ewig“, flüsterte ich.

„Oh ja, das tue ich“, stöhnte sie. „Mein süßer Damien!“ Ihre Fotze zuckte jetzt auf meinem Schwanz. „Ja, ja, mein Damien!“

Ich fickte sie fester und genoss das geile Gefühl, wie ihre kleine Möse meinen Schwanz ausmolk. Ihre Lippen küssten meinen Hals, ihre Hüften drückten ihren Kitzler an mein Schambein und wollten noch einen weiteren Orgasmus erzeugen. Ich nahm eine ihrer kleinen Brüste und drückte ihren Nippel. Und dann grunzte ich über ihr. Neben mir stöhnte Mary ihre Lust in Shannons Fotze. Das Bett schaukelte von der Wucht meiner Stöße. Ich war jetzt ganz kurz vor meinem eigenen Orgasmus.

„Hier kommt es!“ keuchte ich. Noch drei heftige Stöße in ihre Fotze. Und wieder verkrampfte sich ihre Fotze um meinem Schwanz, als ich ihren Kitzler berührte. Und dann explodierte ich in ihrer engen Fotze und schoss ihr meinen Saft in den Bauch. Hoffentlich nahm sie die Pille! Ich war mir nicht sicher, wie es Mary aufnehmen würde, wenn ich ihre Schwester schwängerte.

„Wow!“ stöhnte Missy, als ich über ihr zur Ruhe kam. „Ich bin zweimal gekommen!“

„Beim nächsten Mal, wenn du mit Damien fickst, wirst du auch kommen“, sagte ich. „Er ist bestimmt ein sehr strebsamer Schüler.“

„Das hoffe ich für ihn“, kicherte Missy. „Sonst werde ich ganz schön sauer auf ihn sein, weil er mich betrogen hat.“

„Und was ist damit, dass du ihn auch betrogen hast?“ fragte ich.

Missy schaute zu ihren beiden Schwestern, die sich noch gegenseitig befriedigten. „Nun, wir gehören ja doch alle irgendwie in die Familie. Dann ist das wohl kein richtiges Betrügen. Das ist dann doch mehr eine andere Art, seine Liebe zueinander auszudrücken.“

„Die beiden machen es sich richtig gut, schau mal.“

„Ja“, sagte Missy. Mary und Shannon behandelten einander die Fotzen, als stünden sei kurz vor dem Verhungern. Mein Schwanz wurde in Missys leckerer Fotze wieder hart. „Wirst du schon wieder hart?“ fragte Missy.

„Hmmm, ja“, sagte ich. „Wir sollten mal eine andere Stellung ausprobieren.“

Missy kicherte. „Okay!“

Ich nahm sie in die Arme und rollte mich auf den Rücken. Jetzt saß sie auf mir. „Cowgirl“, sagte ich. Missy erhob sich etwas. Ihre schwellenden Brüste schoben sich nach vorne, als sie anfing, sich auf und ab zu bewegen. „Gut so. Mach ein bisschen schneller und ändere den Winkel ein wenig.“ Missy lehnte sich ein wenig weiter nach hinten. „Spürst du, dass mein Schwanz jetzt andere Stellen in deiner Muschi trifft?“

„Ja“, sagte Missy mit einem Lächeln.

„Das solltest du auch mit Damien machen. Du hast so viel mehr Kontrolle“, sagte ich ihr. „Sorge dafür, dass sein Schwanz die Stellen in deiner Muschi trifft, die sich am besten anfühlen.“

„Das werde ich bestimmt tun“, sagte Missy und sie keuchte, als sie mich ritt. „Ich werde ihn fertig machen!“

Missy ritt mich immer schneller. Sie warf ihren Kopf nach hinten und ihr rotblondes Haar peitschte um ihren Kopf. Ich streichelte ihren Bauch und fuhr dann mit meinen Händen zu ihren apfelgroßen fest Brüsten. Die kleinen Kegel waren fest und hatten harte Nippel, mit denen ich jetzt spielte. Ihre Fotze fühlte sich fantastisch an, während sie mich weiter ritt. Sie war schleimig von ihren Säften und von meiner ersten Ladung.

Neben uns kam ein ersticktes Stöhnen von Mary und sie wand sich auf ihrer Schwester. Shannon kam es einen Moment später. Mary rollte von ihrer Schwester herunter und schmiegte sich an mich. Ihr Gesicht war von Mösensaft bedeckt und sie küsste mich und ließ mich Shannons süße und würzige Muschi schmecken. Als sie den Kuss beendete, fragte Mary: „Macht meine Schwester deinem Schwanz gute Gefühle?“

„Das tut sie, Mare!“ sagte ich.

„Gib ihm einen guten Ritt, Baby“, ordnete Mary an.

„Ja, ja, mach ich ja schon!“ keuchte Missy. „Oh wow, diese Stellung ist toll! Meine Güte, ich glaube, es kommt mir schon! Ja, ja! Ich komme!“ Ihre enge Fotze packte meinen Schwanz, als es ihr kam und sie setzte sich schwer atmend auf meinen Schwanz.

„Du musst ihn weiterficken“, sagte Shannon.

„Oh“, keuchte Missy und fing an, mich wieder zu reiten.

„Reite ihn!“ jubelte Shannon. „Reite ihn, Cowgirl!“ Dann pfiff sie auf den Fingern.

Missy trug ein breites Grinsen, während sie mich hart und schnell ritt. Sie hob eine Hand über ihren Kopf und schwang ein imaginäres Lasso. Mary küsste mich ein zweites Mal. Meine linke Hand griff nach ihrer Brust. Mary rückte sich ein wenig hin und her, damit ich besser hinkam. Und dann spielte ich mit ihrem Nippel. Ich stöhnte in Marys süße Lippen, als ich die Fotze ihrer kleinen Schwester mit meinem Sperma überflutete.

„Ich will, dass du Shannons Arsch fickst“, flüsterte Mary mir ins Ohr. Dann setzte sie sich auf und zog Missy von mir herunter und legte sie auf das Bett. Mary spreizte ihr die Beine und die junge Fotze öffnete sich und weißer Saft floss heraus. Mary beugte sich nach unten und leckte einen großen Klecks weg, der zu Missys Arsch herunter gelaufen war. Dann tauchte sie in Missys Fotze in und fing an, sie auszulecken.

Ich kroch über Missy und Mary hinweg zu Shannon. „Wirst du mich jetzt ficken, zukünftiger Bruder?“ fragte Shannon mit einem schelmischen Lächeln.

„In den Arsch“, sagte ich und drehte sie rau um.

„Ich bin noch nie in den Arsch gefickt worden“, sagte sie und ihr Selbstbewusstsein schwand. „George… er will das auch immer.“

„Liebst du ihn?“

„Ja, er ist toll“, sagte sie. „Und er ist total süß und er macht mich glücklich.“

„Und warum machst du ihn dann nicht glücklich?“ fragte ich und spreizte ihre Arschbacken.

„Ich… ich habe Angst“, saget sie und biss sich auf die Lippe. „Das tut bestimmt weh.“

„Nur bei mir“, sagte ich. „Ich werde dich für ihn einreiten.“

Shannon keuchte vor Schmerz und ich sah, wie Mary von zwischen Missys Beinen herüberschaute. Sie grinste. Sie hatte davon gesprochen, dass Shannon sie ständig herumgeschubst hatte, als sie noch Kinder waren. Ich lächelte zurück und fickte in Shannons engen Arsch hinein und dann zog ich mich wieder zurück und rammte mich mit aller Kraft wieder nach innen.

Am Ende genoss Shannon den Arschfick dann doch noch und sie bettelte darum, dass ich ihr in den Arsch spritzte. Als ich das tat, war sie schon einmal gekommen und sie war auf dem Weg zu ihrem zweiten Orgasmus. Ihr Arsch war heiß und eng und er bereitete mir großes Vergnügen, als ich in sie hineinspritzte. Shannon kam es zum zweiten Mal, als Missy ihr mein Sperma aus dem Arsch leckte, während Mary und ich zuschauten.

„Ich glaube, das Essen war ein großer Erfolg“, sagte ich ihr.

Sie lächelte und küsste mich. „Ich bin schon gespannt auf Samstag, wenn wir das Essen mit deiner Mutter haben“, sagte Mary mit einem verdorbenen Lächeln.

Ich lachte und dann hörte ich, wie mein Telefon summte. Ich stand auf, fand meine Hose und zog mein Handy heraus. „Endlich funktioniert das Streaming, hoffentlich kannst du zuschauen *-)“. Die SMS war von Vivian, dem erstem Mädchen, das ich gefickt hatte.

Als ich vom Teufel meine Kräfte bekommen hatte, hatte ich sie bei Starbucks ausprobiert. Ich hatte Vivian, eine Kundin, gefickt und die beiden Baristas: Cynthia und Mary. Und dann hatte ich mich in Mary verliebt und ich war der Meinung gewesen, dass Vivian und Cynthia so süß zusammen waren, deswegen hatte ich befohlen, dass sie sich auch verlieben sollten und dann das Liebemachen im Internet streamen. Das hatte ich total vergessen.

„Die SMS ist von Vivian“, sagte ich Mary. „Sie und Cynthia fangen jetzt mit dem Streaming an.“

„Oh, dann lass uns zuschauen“, sagte Mary ganz aufgeregt.

Dann schrieb ich zurück: „Cool. Mary und ich und ein paar andere werden zuschauen! *-)“. Ich nahm meinen Laptop und tippte den Link ein. Er führte auf eine Streaming-Seite mit Namen Nasty-Girls-Live.com. Dann nahm ich ein HDMI-Kabel und schloss meinen Laptop an den Fernseher im Schlafzimmer an.

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

Travis schoss seine Ladung in Antsys Muschi und fiel dann auf sie. Antsy bewegte noch ihre Hüften. Sie war kurz davor zu kommen, als ein lauter Schnarchlaut von Travis zu hören war.

„Dieses Arschloch ist doch tatsächlich eingepennt!“ stöhnte Antsy. „Hilf mir mal, der erdrückt mich.“

Ich schob feste und rollte mit einiger Anstrengung den Fleischklops von Antsy herunter. Ich fiel dabei über sie und unsere Brüste rieben sich aneinander. Antsy starrte mich an. Ihr Atem beschleunigte sich und sie leckte ihre roten Lippen. Elektrizität war zwischen uns beiden. Eine Kraft zog uns zueinander. Ihre Haut fühlte sich unter mir wie Feuer an. Ich fuhr mit meiner Hand über ihren Bauch und dann zu ihrer rasierten Muschi hinunter. Sie war nass von ihrer eigenen Lust und von Travis Sperma.

„Nein“, keuchte sie protestierend, als mein Finger anfing, langsam ihren Kitzler zu reizen. „Ich bin doch keine Lesbe!“

„Ich auch nicht“, flüsterte ich. Ich küsste sie wieder und rollte ihren Kitzler zwischen zwei Fingern. „Es ist nicht lesbisch, wenn man betrunken ist“, log ich.

Antsy entspannte sich und kicherte. „Das ist gut, ich bin nämlich sehr betrunken.“ Dieses Mal küsste sie mich und ihr Kuss wurde immer aggressiver, als ich ihr einen Finger in die Fotze steckte. Ich suchte nach ihrem G-Punkt. Ich musste dieses Mädchen zum Orgasmus bringen, bevor es zu nüchtern wurde. Ich musste den Spruch von Avvah vollziehen.

Ihr Körper wand sich unter meinen Aktivitäten. Ich hakte meinen Finger und strich über die Wand ihrer Fotze. Ich suchte nach diesem Nervenbündel, während mein Daumen sich weiter um ihren Kitzler kümmerte. Ihr Körper zuckte unter mir und da wusste ich, dass ich den G-Punkt gefunden hatte. Ich fing an, ihn zu massieren.

„Komm für mich“, flüsterte ich ihr ins Ohr und leckte an ihrem Ohrläppchen. „Ich will deine Lustschreie hören!“

„Wenn du mich da weitermassierst“, stöhnte Antsy, „dann werde ich für dich bellen wie ein kleiner Hund.“

Ich verstärkte meinen Druck auf ihren G-Punkt und rollte gleichzeitig ihren Kitzler mit meinem Daumen, während ich an ihrem Ohr lutschte. Ihre Hüften wanden sich, als sie sich immer weiter auf ihren Orgasmus zu bewegte. Und dann wurde ihr Körper ganz steif und ein erstickter Schrei entrang sich ihrem Hals.

„Avvah Mark Glassner“, flüsterte ich. „Avvah Mark Glassner.“

Antsy wurde steif unter mir. Sie fiel in eine Trance, als der Spruch wirkte. Und dann kam sie wieder. Ein Lächeln umspielte ihre Lippen. „Das war schön“, sagte sie und dann schloss sie die Augen und dann wurde sie ohnmächtig.

Ich seufzte frustriert. Meine Muschi war heiß und bereit und ich wollte auch kommen, aber jetzt lagen nur zwei nutzlose Betrunkene ohnmächtig in meinem Bett. Ich musste wohl selber Hand anlegen. Ich fuhr mit meinen Händen nach unten und fing an, mit meiner Muschi zu spielen. Mhhh, meine Finger fühlten sich gut an, wie ich so mit der einen Hand meinen Kitzler schrammelte und zwei Finger der anderen Hand in meine Fotze stieß. Ich war jetzt einen Schritt näher daran, Schwester Louise zu retten und Mark und seiner Geliebten das Handwerk zu legen. Der Gedanke regte meine Lust noch weiter an und es dauerte nicht lang, da kam ich sehr geräuschvoll.

Als ich mir meine Lust von den Fingern leckte, wusste ich mit absoluter Sicherheit, dass Gott über das Böse triumphieren würde. Meine Muschi juckte immer noch und ich fuhr mit meinen Händen nach unten, um mir einen zweiten Orgasmus zu gönnen. Dabei fantasierte ich von Marks Gesicht, als er erkannte, dass er geschlagen war und dass all seine Schandtaten rückgängig gemacht worden waren.
To be continued…

Click here for Kapitel 20

The Devil’s Pact Side-Story: Miss Blythe is Hot for Her Students

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Side-Story: Miss Blythe is Hot for Her Students

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2014


Story Codes: Teen male/Female, Female/Teen female, Teen female/Teen female, Consensual, Watersports, Creampie, 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. 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 during Chapter 34. Follows Lynette Blythe, teacher at Rogers High School from Mark Goes Back to School.



Wednesday, September 4th, 2013

“Hi, I am Miss Blythe,” I said to my class, writing my name on the whiteboard with a red dry-erase marker. “I will be your World History teacher.”

It was the first day of the new school year and, as I launched into the course syllabus, my thoughts kept drifting to that day in June at the end of the last term, when my Living God, the Holy Mark Glassner, walked into this very classroom and changed my very outlook on life. I didn’t know he was a God then, and only later did my inexplicable actions – bending over my desk, and letting all the virgin male students in my class fuck me – make sense.

It was the most exciting thing that ever happened to me.

I was those boys’ first fuck. It made me so happy to help them lose their virginities, to see the excited smiles that filled their boyish faces afterwards—I felt proud, honored even. I made those boys into men, and they made me feel so womanly.

This morning, as I made my way to teach this class, I bumped into one of them: Kev Spellecacy. He was holding hands with Maya Spooner, and the smile he gave me sent my heart fluttering—and my cunt dripping. He stopped to introduce me to Maya, his girlfriend. “It’s all because of you, Miss Blythe,” he had explained. “That day, you gave me confidence. Well, take care, Miss Blythe.” His girlfriend gave him a questioning look as they walked off.

I was positively skipping when I headed to my class—I gave him confidence. I helped to bring him out of his shell. And it was so easy: all I had to do was let him fuck me. It got me thinking—wouldn’t the world be a better place if caring, older women – not that I was old at twenty-five; I was mature and experienced – guided these young men through their blossoming sexuality.

As I spoke to my first period class, I perched on the edge of my desk. I was dressed in a tight vest with a plunging neckline; my 34DD breasts strained against my top and threatened to pop off a button if I breathed in too deeply. My skirt was short, exposing my long, tanned legs that were clad with dark, thigh-high stockings; I could feel all the boys’, and a few of the girls’, hungry gazes upon me.

There was one boy in particular that caught my eye with his lustful stare. Patrick Algar. He was slouched in the back, his deep, blue eyes – covered by large, silver-rimmed glasses – were glued to my cleavage. His face was pimply, round, cute; he looked so young and innocent. When I leaned over slightly, his eyes widened, and he shifted in his seat. My cunt let out a trickle of juices—I excited him.

He was all I could think about as I struggled to teach for the rest of the period. As my students filed out, I grabbed his arm. “I saw what you were doing in the back of the class,” I sternly told him. “Detention, after school. My classroom.”

He gaped and spluttered at me, “ But I didn’t…”

“Don’t lie to me, Patrick, I saw what you did. Now go.”

I watched his cute, little ass as he scurried out of my classroom, and pressed my thighs together to try and relieve that wonderful ache between them. Gods, I was sopping wet, and wanted nothing more than to play with my naked cunt. I didn’t wear panties anymore, that was against the tenets of the Living Church, and I was beginning to smell my spicy arousal and felt a trickle of passion running down my thigh.

I was a ball of frustration, panting after every cute boy in my classes and struggling to teach my lessons—probably poorly; I just couldn’t think straight. By the time my lunch period – the school had three of them – had finally come around, I had resorted to sticking a tampon inside my sopping pussy to try and control the flood of juices. I was about to settle in for a quiet fifty minutes in my classroom – maybe lock the door and finger myself to an orgasm or three – when Kev walked in.

“Miss Blythe,” he greeted, closing the door behind him.

“Um, what can I do for you, Kev?” I asked, forcing myself to sound friendly, and squashed a bit of irritation at the interruption. I needed to cum so bad.

“Well, Miss Blythe, I just can’t stop thinking about last June.” His cheeks were pink, and I noticed a growing bulge in his crotch.

Well, well, well, this was one way to scratch my itch. As I walked to my door to lock it, I asked, “What about your girlfriend?”

“Maya’s getting together with a few friends in the bathroom,” Kev answered. “Um, for some, eh, lesbian fun. She knows why I’m here.”

I frowned; students shouldn’t be having ‘lesbian fun’ on school property. Of course, I wasn’t supposed to fuck my students either. So I bent over my desk and wiggled my ass at him. “What are you waiting for?”

“Fuck yeah, Miss Blythe!”

“Don’t swear,” I admonished.

“Sorry,” he muttered. I heard a zipper rasp, then his hands were on my ass, pulling up my skirt. “Um, there’s a string.”

“It’s a tampon, just pull it out and fuck me!”

I could feel his hesitation. “Are you on the rag?”

“No!” I cried in frustration. I needed to feel his cock inside me. “Just fuck me! Now!”

I gasped as he yanked the tampon out, and I heard a soggy splat as he tossed it into the trash. His cock felt hard as he nudged my pussy, searching for my hole. I groaned; the tip of his dick rubbed about my slit, bumping my clit, before he slid back up and found my pussy canal.

“Yes,” I sighed in relief as he slid home inside me.

“Oh fuck! Your cunt feels as great as I remembered!”

“Don’t swear!” I again admonished even as his cock began to churn my insides.

“Sorry, Miss Blythe,” he groaned. “Your pussy feels great!”

His hips pistoned quickly and pleasure rippled through me from our friction. I had been fucked plenty of times over the summer, mostly at the Church of the Living Gods, but a teenage boy had a certain enthusiasm, a frantic need to spill his cum, that was quickly bringing me to an orgasm. My desk creaked as it slid an inch on the floor. Everything on my desk rattled from the force of his thrusts, and a pencil cup fell over with a clatter, sending its contents skittering wildly across the linoleum.

“Oh Miss Blythe!” Kev grunted. “Oh yes! Geez yes!”

“Harder!” I hissed. “Fuck me harder!”

My orgasm swept through me as Kev pounded my cunt. I gripped the edge of my desk, holding on for dear life as my legs felt like wet noodles. The slap of flesh echoed throughout my classroom, punctuated by grunts and moans from Kev. His strokes grew more and more frenzied.

“Oh f…darn, Miss Blythe!” Kev moaned. “Your pussy just feels more better with every thrust!”

“Just better, Kev!” I panted, unable to shut off my teaching instincts despite the pleasure flooding my brain. “Not ‘more better’!”

“What?” he demanded. “Oh shi…oot! Oh shoot!”

His balls were slapping against my clit, sending wicked vibrations through my body. I was so close to cumming a second time when Kev buried his cock all the way inside me and I felt his cum shooting into me. He thrust one last time – as if to savor the feel of my cunt – before he pulled out, leaving me empty, horny.

Dammit, I was so close to cumming!

“Thanks, Miss Blythe,” he said, zipping his jeans up. “I’ve been thinking of you all summer long.”

Gods, I still wasn’t satisfied; I was almost there. “Kev, which bathroom is your girlfriend at?” If some students were having ‘lesbian fun’ in a school bathroom, at the very least I should supervise them. All extra-curricular activities should have a teacher to monitor and advise the students—for their own safety.

“First floor by the science labs.” He hesitated. “You’re not going to get her in trouble?”

There was a gaggle of girls lounging in that bathroom, and they all looked guilty when I burst in. I didn’t see Maya Spooner, but I did hear a girl’s moans coming from the first stall. All three were occupied, and I heard more soft sighs and gasps. In fact I heard quite a lot of them; they were fooling around in all the stalls. The girls lounging in the restroom fled quickly, squeezing past me, trying not to look me in the eye, as I walked over to the first stall.

There was a trick to opening any of the stall doors from the outside, and I came prepared with a quarter, figuring if there was any hanky-panky going on it would be in a stall. I stuck the coin into the slot on the latch, twisted, and the door popped open. Melody Johnson, a pixie-faced girl with black hair and purple highlights, sat on the toilet while Maya Spooner was busy between her legs.

“Miss Blythe!” Melody gasped.

I smiled at her. I knew her from the Church. Melody liked to tell the story about the day of her sixteenth birthday when she met our Gods, Mark and Mary, in the South Hill Mall’s Old Navy store. Melody and her mom had been shopping when they were honored to be our Gods’ lovers. Maya tried to rise up, but Melody grabbed her short, black hair and held Maya’s mouth to her pussy.

“Keep licking, pee-slut!” purred Melody. “I’m almost there!”

“Pee-slut?” I asked.

“Mmm, Maya and a few other girls were taught the pleasures of watersports in this very bathroom by Him!”

I knew just whom ‘Him’ was—our God. Mark had blessed a lot of girls that day last June when he visited Rogers High School, and more than a few girls showed up pregnant at the start of this school year.

I watched as Melody shivered and came all over Maya’s hungry mouth. Smiling happily, Melody got up and squeezed past me, whispering, “Have fun!”

Maya looked a little uncertainly at me, her face sticky with Melody’s juices. “Relax,” I told her, sitting on the toilet; the seat warmed for me by Melody’s tight ass.

“Did Kev come and see you?” Maya asked.

“In fact he did cum by, and left you something inside me.”

Maya pushed my legs apart and saw my messy cunt. She licked her lips, and buried her head underneath my skirt, her mouth latching onto my pussy. And then she didn’t do anything—no licking, no sucking, not even any fingering. I was so fucking horny! What was she waiting for?

For me to pee, I realized after a minute, feeling a little stupid. She was a pee-slut after all.

Well, I did have to urinate. Feeling a little weird, I relaxed my bladder and flooded her mouth with piss. I heard Maya moan as she drank my piss down. Gods, there was something so intimate, so erotic, at having someone drink your pee—the way it sounded as your urine splashed into an eager mouth, the obscene sounds of swallowing, and the moans of delight issuing from your pee-slut’s hungry mouth. I strained, forcing out as much piss into her nasty mouth as I could and letting the pleasure of urinating tingle through me. The stream died down until only a few drops came out; I sighed sadly, it was over.

Or so I thought. Her tongue slid through my wet folds, bringing a gasp to my lips, as she searched for those drops of pee that always clung to your pussy afterwards. I gripped her black hair, and shuddered as I came on her face; peeing in her mouth had been so erotic; I was primed to go off at her first touch. She kept right on licking me, sucking all of her boyfriend’s cum out of my pussy. Gods, she was good. Her tongue was agile, exploring every inch of my cunt, as she searched for more of Kev’s spunk. Her fingers found my clit, massaging my little pearl and sending surges of electric pleasure through me.

“Gods yes!” I moaned.

This delicious slut was driving me wild. I gripped her black hair, fucking my cunt into her face, desperate for one more cum before the period ended and I had to go back to my teaching. Her tongue was buried into my hole, wiggling about as she pinched my clit. Another orgasm was building—a huge explosion about to be set off by this amazing girl, and her even more amazing tongue. My stomach contracted as the pleasure burst through me. I shoved her face so hard into my cunt I was afraid my hole was going to swallow the girl. I shuddered and bucked and moaned wordlessly, my passion echoing around the bathroom.

“You tasted great, Miss Blythe,” Maya smiled, standing up and brushing some dust off the front of her skirt.

I panted, “Wow, you are amazing!” I stood up, smoothing my skirt back down my hips. The bell tolled, ending the period. “You better get to class.”

She grinned and walked out, her face stained with pussy juices—the Living Church taught that a good girl shouldn’t feel ashamed to be covered in another person’s passion. As I walked back to class, I saw Addison Savidge kissing Suzette Mitchel between rows of lockers. Both girls attend the Living Church, although Suzette only joined the church a few weeks ago with her boyfriend Brian. He went to a different High School, which was a shame because he was quite cute and I’d love to fuck him—Gods, I was turning into one bad teacher, I thought with a giggle. I remembered that there was Church tonight; we met every Wednesday to honor the Miracle that revealed our Living Gods to the World, and I’m sure Brian would be there. I would have to pin him down, and give his cute body a try during the worship orgy tonight.

I told the Addison and Suzette off, sending them scurrying to class; kissing was fine, but they needed their education. My class was on the second floor, and I had to walk past the main office to get to the stairs. I bumped into Jerri Milojevic as she came out of the office. I nodded at the girl who had a smile filling her flushed face. I knew that she was having an affair with Principal Havener; I was pretty sure my God was responsible. The scuttlebutt was that Mark had sent Jerri into Havener’s office so the principal could have sloppy seconds after He finished fucking her.

I swayed my ass as I walked up the stairs, feeling all the boys’ eyes on my rear as it writhed beneath my skirt. Most of my class was already waiting for me. Just two more periods and the day would be over. There were a few cute boys in this class, and my cunt began to moisten, that itch returning, making the last two periods just drag on and on. Both were civics classes and today I just didn’t have the energy to teach it.

Besides, soon the world would change as my Gods were becoming more and more powerful, so it seemed a little silly teaching civics when a new order would be established. Things had to change; people should be free to love whom they want, regardless of sex or familial relationship—so long as they were willing and mature enough, what was the harm? The world would be a lot happier if people weren’t so repressed, bottling up their passions, allowing them to fester unhealthily. That could lead to all sorts of problems.

Finally, the last bell rang and my students were eager to escape and go home, or participate in whatever afterschool activities they were involved in. Ten minutes later, Patrick slinked in, looking resigned to his fate.

“I am really sorry, I just don’t know what I did,” he protested, pushing up his silver-rimmed glasses that slipped down the bridge of his nose.

“Sit.” I pointed to a chair I placed next to my desk. He quickly obeyed, and I perched on my desk and kept crossing my tanned legs right in front of his face. His eyes bounced between my tits straining at my blouse and the inviting shadow between my shifting legs while I let him stew, both of us growing hornier and hornier; a bulge formed in his pants.

“Why did you do it?” I asked.

“I honestly don’t know why I’m here, Miss Blythe.”

“Do you want me to tell you what you did?”

He nodded.

I spread my legs wide open and I saw his face flush as he saw my naked, shaved cunt. “You got me so hot and bothered today,” I purred. “My pussy’s been dripping all day long.”

“I…” he stammered. “I’m not…I…um…”

“I need you to fix this,” I told him. “I can’t think straight unless I get your hard cock inside me.”

He just stared in disbelief at me. I kicked off my shoe, and rubbed my stockinged foot on his crotch, feeling his hard cock throb. I grinned as he sat frozen, not sure what to do. He was so yummy.

“Miss Blythe, we shouldn’t…”

His voice trailed off as he saw me unbuttoning my blouse, revealing my large tits cupped in a lacy, black bra. He licked his lips, his eyes riveted to my straining bosom. The bra clasped in the front; my breasts spilled out when I popped the fastener. I kneaded my right boob, pinching a fat nipple, then lifted the nub up to my lips.

I loved sucking my own nipples, and I could feel Patrick’s cock twitch beneath my foot—he loved it too. I slid off the desk and straddled his lap, my breasts brushing his smooth cheeks. He had just the hint of stubble, more peach fuzz then proper whiskers really, and they tickled the inner slopes of my tits. I stroked his face, then bent down and gently kissed him on the lips.

He just sat there as I kissed him, stiff as a statue. I broke the kiss and stared down at him. “You have to move your lips. Maybe nibble on mine. And don’t be afraid to use your tongue,” I instructed.

He did better the second time. His lips moved awkwardly, and his tongue was hesitant as he brushed my lips. I showed him how with my tongue, exploring his mouth almost to his tonsils while I wiggled my ass on his lap. I could feel him relax, and his hands began moving on my body, sliding up my sides and back, but never down to my ass; he just lacked the nerve to grab me in a more intimate spot, I realized.

So I grabbed one hand and pushed it down to my ass, and then brought his other hand up to my heavy breast. He stiffened when he felt my naked tit. I kept kissing him, feeling the tension relax from his body as his hand started squeezing my flesh.

“See, it’s not so hard,” I encouraged. He squeezed harder and I winced. “Not so hard. Go slow, learn what her limits are. Don’t just maul her tit like that unless you know that’s what she likes.”

“Sorry.”

“Be gentle, but confident, and you’ll get into any girl’s panties.”

His face lit up. “Really?”

I captured his lips with a third kiss, and his hand softly squeezed me, sliding around the tit. I cooed into his mouth when his fingers found my nipple. He was gentle as he played with the hard nub, the pleasure tingling through my body right down to my hungry cunt.

“Umm, very good,” I purred, then I gasped as he sucked my nipple into his lips. “You’re learning quickly!”

“You’re a great teacher, Miss Blythe!”

Finally, that itch in my cunt needed to be scratched, so I slid off Patrick’s lap. I pulled him up, kissed him passionately, and maneuvered him to my desk. I pushed him down onto the wooden surface, my cup of pens and pencils clattering to the floor again. I crawled on top, my heavy breasts dragging across his shirt; the cotton felt deliciously rough on my nipples.

“Are we really?” he asked, his eyes wide behind his glasses.

“Yes,” I hissed, fumbling at his pants button.

I pulled his cock out. He was short, but thick. I stroked his cock a few times, squeezing out a drop of pre-cum that I swirled about the sensitive head. Patrick moaned, squeezing his eyes shut. I guided him to my eager cunt, and sat down; his cock erupted inside me.

“Oh wow!” Patrick moaned as he came. “You feel so hot!”

He stayed hard despite cumming—wasn’t youth wonderful? I started to ride his cock, sitting up and thrusting my breasts forward. As I fucked him, I ground my clit into his pubic bone as his hands rubbed up and down on my silky thighs. Gods, he felt amazing inside me. The thrill of fucking my student and taking his virginity sent me tumbling over the edge into my first orgasm.

“Yes!” I moaned, bouncing faster on his cock. “You fucking stud! You made me cum!”

“Really? I did that?” The awe in his voice was so cute.

“Gods yes! Your cock feels wonderful inside me!” I licked my lips. “Make me cum again, stud!”

I pumped my hips harder on him, driving his cock as deep into my cunt as it could go. His hands gripped my hips, sliding back to squeeze my plump ass. My breasts heaved up and down, and his blue eyes were rooted to them. I grabbed one breast and brought it to my lips and swirled my tongue around my fat nipple. Gods, I loved doing that.

“Miss Blythe! Your pussy! Oh jeez!”

“Are you about to cum?” I demanded, leaning over him, letting my nipples brush his shirt.

“Oh yes!”

“Good! Cum in me!” I screamed.

One of his hands gripped a swaying tit, fingering my nipple, as I ground my clit into his crotch, every brush sparking pleasure like flint striking steel. A few blasts of his cum shoot inside me, not as much as the first one, but enough that I could feel it; I shuddered in delight as a second orgasm surged through me. Panting, I collapsed on top of him.

He kissed me gently. “That was the best thing in the world, Miss Blythe.”

“It was,” I agreed, kissing him back. “You rocked my world, Patrick.”

His grin was full of self-satisfaction—full of confidence. “I did, didn’t I.” I was so proud of him—now he was a man.

I stood up, feeling his cum leaking out of my pussy as I tucked my tits back into my bra cups, reclasping it. “Well, I hope you learned your lesson, young man. If you do it again, it’ll be another detention.”

“Promise?” he eagerly asked.

A rich laugh escaped my lips. “I promise.”

The Devil’s Pact Chapter Thirty: Tiffany’s Tale

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Chapter 30: Tiffany’s Tale

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2013


Story Codes: Teen male/Female, Male/Female, Female/Female, Mind Control, Male Domination, Female Domination, Sadism, Violence, Cockold, Watersports, Magic

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

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



Click here for Chapter 29.



My hands were shaking as the adrenaline bled off. But the images of the dead and dying would not leave my mind. Oh, God, so many dead, I prayed. Forgive me, Lord.

“Why are you crying, Mother!” my daughter spat at me with such venom in her voice. Her bile was a dagger in my heart. “What do you have to cry about, Mother? Are your loved ones dead and dying?”

I looked sadly at my middle daughter, Mary. She was bound, sitting in the corner of the swat van. Her eyes were puffy from crying and burned a deep green with hatred. Blood mated the front of her clothing, probably Mark’s blood. I did not see any wounds on her. About her was a scarlet red aura, the stained aura of a Warlock. My own daughter sold her soul and I was sent to defeat her.

“Because all that blood is on my hands,” I whispered my answer. “That is why I am crying, Mary.”

Mary gave a shrill, almost hysterical laugh. “You fucking nuns are such hypocrites. Karen was just as sorry after she nearly killing Desiree. Did you ever think what would happen if you attacked us? Christ, Mother, your soldiers had automatic fucking weapons!”

“It was the only way,” I sadly explained. “It was all for the greater good. We had to stop Mark and…”

“And me, Mother,” Mary snarled. “You tried to kill Mark and your own daughter. What a great servant of God you are!”

I flinched as her words whipped my soul bloody. I struggled to gather my thoughts, to marshal some sort of defense against her accusations. To assuage my guilt and wash the blood from my hands. It was all for the greater good, Ramiel told me. For the future of the World. We must not be allowed to fail. Mark Glassner had to be stopped. He is a Warlock, an evil man who sold his soul and corrupted my poor daughter.

The van stopped. We must be at the getaway cars. I cloaked the SWAT van with invisibility to get us clear of the immediate area. Already cops were swarming the street that Mark lived on. But it was too dangerous to drive an invisible vehicle on the streets. We were lucky no one hit us in the short distance we had to drive.

Dennis, the only remaining SWAT officer under my control, opened the rear doors, climbed in and pulled Mary out of the van. She was dragged kicking and screaming and Dennis easily manhandled her. I followed, walking over to the several vehicles we parked here earlier today. Dennis walked over to a silver, Jeep Cherokee and threw her in the back seat. I slid in beside my daughter.

“Mark is evil,” I told Mary, trying to justify my actions to my daughter. And to myself. “He had to be stopped.”

“Did you do something to Alice?” Mary asked coldly. “Is that why she shot my fiancee, Mother?”

“Yes,” I sighed, looking down at my hands.

“Oh, so there’s another innocent person whose blood is on your hands, then, Mother. I’m sure you saw her bleeding to death when you captured me.” Mary paused, her lip curled in contempt. “She was Shannon’s best friend growing up, remember? Alice used to sleep over at the house with Shannon and you would make them cookies to eat. Oh, but that was before you turned into a whore and abandoned us!”

The pain of Mary’s words threatened to crush me as memories of a sweet, black-haired girl playing with Shannon flooded my mind. Tears were brimming at my eyes. Oh, God, what have I done. I looked down at my hands. They were surprisingly clean for hands so stained with blood. Alice. Isabella and Agnes. That blonde Thrall who spent her last breath trying to protect my daughter. From her own mother.

I should have been the one to protect Mary.

“Why couldn’t you just leave us alone?” Mary asked, bitterly.

“What you do is evil,” I said, feeling my anger replace my guilt. “You control people. Make them your slaves, steal their free will. Destroy lives. All those SWAT officers had relationships. Marriages. Broken and destroyed by what you and Mark made them do when they raided your house.”

“We didn’t kill them,” Mary spat back. “You say we destroy lives? Who was it that took control of those men and led them into a killing field. Really a good act there. Who attacked whom, Mother? You’re just as bad as we are. You killed Chasity.” Mary’s eyes brimmed with tears. “She was a sweet, loving woman and your soldiers gunned her down. You tried to kill your own daughter, Mother.”

“I didn’t know you were the other Warlock,” I protested. “I never thought in a million years my own daughter would…”

“Would be a Warlock,” Mary sneered. “Better than the whore who runs out on her family.” Mary gave a bitter laugh. “Mark is bleeding to death. It won’t be long until I’m out of your life, Mother. Than your mission will be complete.”

My forehead furrowed in confusion. “What? What are you talking about, Mary? I’m not going to kill you.”

“My Pact,” Mary whispered. “Mark wished for a long life. When I made my Pact, I wished to be young and healthy for as long as Mark lives. When he dies, I die.” She sniffed, and a small smile appeared on her lips. “We will be together for eternity.”

“I’ll exorcise you,” I said, fear squeezing my heart. I could not be responsible for my own daughter’s death. That guilt would destroy me. “Then your wish won’t matter. You’ll live past him.”

“No!” Her shout surprised me. “Let me be with him. With Mark dead and my powers broken, only prison will remain for me.”

“How can you love him, Mary?” I asked her. “Where does this devotion come from. He’s a monster. I know what a male Warlock does to his Thralls.”

“Love them?” Mary asked. “Mark never hurts them. We love them. Mark’s a good man, deep inside. The power he has, it’s too intoxicating. No one can resist it fully. You want to know why I love him, Mother? Because he has a caring soul. Because he loved me so much he set me free from his powers. Because if I asked it of him, he would give up his powers.”

I laughed. “No Warlock has ever given up their powers. Not voluntarily.”

“Mark would, for me,” Mary insisted.

“I know Warlocks far too well, Mary.” I shook my head. The poor girl was besotted with him. She was young, only nineteen. She hasn’t learned about the lies a man will tell a woman in bed. I learned that lesson before I met Sean. “They all are selfish beasts.”

Mary snorted. “You swoop in, exorcise a Warlock and then head back to whatever convent you nuns wait at. What do you really know about us? You speak like we’re evil monsters and not just people with too much power.”

“For six months I was a Thrall.” I could feel the tears brimming in my eyes as I began to tell my daughter what happened on March 15th, 2000, and the terrible nightmare that followed.

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

Thirteen Years Ago

“Look what I made at school, mommy!” Mary said, all excited, when I walked in the door from work. She was bouncing on her feet dressed in a cute, plaid jumper holding a clay tablet with her handprint in the center. “I made if for you and Daddy.” Mary was six, her auburn hair in two pig tails and her green eyes shining with happiness.

I smiled and took it from her. “It’s very pretty. Thank you, Mary. Let’s go show Daddy.”

Mary took my hand in hers and pulled me to the living room where Sean sat. I smiled at my husband. He had loosened the top few buttons of his shirt as he graded papers. A High School Teacher’s work was never quite done. Except during the summer.

“Daddy!” Mary excitedly shouted and jumped up on Sean’s lap, scattering his papers as she held up what she made in Kindergarten today.

“That’s so pretty, Mary,” Sean praised. He was a great father and I smiled fondly at him.

“Baba,” Melissa gurgled as she stomped across the floor. She still didn’t say mama right, but I didn’t mind. She was learning to walk and only fell twice before she reached me and I scooped up my youngest daughter and spun her about and kissed her rosy cheeks as she laughed.

“Have you seen Shannon?” I asked Sean. Shannon was ten, and was reaching the age where she was becoming interested in clothes, and boys. She was growing up too fast. It wouldn’t be long before I was buying her a training a bra and she was dating some pimply-faced teen.

“She’s at a Alice’s house,” Sean answered, smiling at me. He had these amazing green eyes and still kept his hair long like when we first started dating in college, tied back in a bright, red ponytail. The very image of the cool, laid-back teacher.

“Can you take Melissa, so I can start dinner?” I asked, kissing Melissa’s cute face before handing her to “daba.”

“Sure, Tiffany,” Sean smiled, taking Melissa from me. Sean’s hand brushed mine and he rubbed it just a little longer than necessary. I smiled, it was the little things that kept a marriage going.

I headed for the kitchen, trailed by Mary. I pulled on my plain, white apron and Mary pulled on her pink frilly apron. “Are you going to help mommy?” I asked her.

Mary nodded, a serious expression on her face. I gave her some simple instructions and we started gathering the ingredients for dinner when I discovered we were out of milk. I sighed and popped my head back into the living room. “Did you forget to swing by the store, Sean?”

He flushed. “Sorry, Tif,” he said. “I’ll go right away.”

I shook my head. I loved my husband, but he was so forgetful. “I’ll walk over to the Coopers and borrow some milk.”

I grabbed a small container and walked outside. The sun was setting, shining brightly on me as a drizzle of rain fell on my face. Weather in March was so unpredictable in Western Washington. It can go from sunny to rain to snow to hail and back to sun all in a twenty minute period of time. And around sunset, you would often get rain and sun at the same time. I grabbed my jacket and walked quickly up Violet Meadows, admiring a beautiful rainbow as I walked up the street to the Coopers.

I could hear music coming from an open garage, loud drums and the metallic screeching of an electric guitar. The Bronson boy and his band were practicing. They weren’t that good, but I liked to encourage Kurt. He was a nice boy, despite that absurd mohawk and lip piercing. He was always around the house, asking if he could do any chores to make some money. So, I let him clean the gutters or mow the lawn for a some money. Sean would grouse, “I can mow the lawn, Tif,” or, “I’m perfectly capable of cleaning the gutters.” Well, if I waited for Sean to get around to mowing the lawn on his own, we would have waist-high grass. And I so hated being a nag.

But today there was something different about the music. A beat that just seemed to flow into me, pulsing through my soul. They sounded good today. No, great. Their practice was starting to pay off. Before I even realized what was happening, I was crossing the street. It was hard to think about anything other than the music as I stood at the entrance to the garage. I had never heard music so amazing before. The music was a primal beat that pounded through me.

There were four members of Kurt’s band. Kurt looked so powerful, so manly, with his mohawk and piercings and ragged, jean jacket. Not his usually, scrawny seventeen-year-old self. He had transformed in my eyes into a virile man. His eyes found mine making me feel weak in the knees. I licked my lips as he stared hungrily at me and I felt my nipples harden and my pussy moisten. Kurt was lead guitar and vocalist. Next to him stood Tor, playing rhythm guitar, with his long brown hair and ears covered in piercings. Pat was the bassist and backup-vocalist, his black hair in conical spikes. Bones played drums, a big man with a shaved head.

And then for reasons I couldn’t understand, I reached under my skirt and pulled my panties down and threw them at Kurt. The music just spoke to me and it felt so right. The air was cool on my drenched pussy and more juices leaked out as Kurt grabbed my panties and inhaled my scent, smiling broadly. The other members of his band were smiling like a bunch of pleased little boys.

“What did I tell you,” Kurt boasted. “Stick with me, boys, and we’ll be famous and have more poon then you can shake a stick at.”

They started up another song and the musical was so primal that my body responded to it. My heart was hammering, my nipples ached so hard in my bra, and my poor little pussy was itching to get laid. If Sean were here, I was pretty sure I’d jump his bones right then and there. I was getting so horny. I was looking at the teenage boys playing before me. Kurt was a hot young man, and his hair spiked up into that mohawk and those piercings on his lips were really turning me on. Thoughts of Kurt on top of me flashed through my mind. He would take me, make me his woman.

“Wow, they are amazing,” Grace Copper gasped in awe. I jumped in shock, realizing she was standing next to me.

Grace was a beautiful woman with long, honey-brown hair. We were close friends. Sometimes I would babysit her three year old, Dawn, a cute little blonde girl. I blinked in surprise as Grace began unbuttoning her pants, pulling them down her slim legs. She was going to give Kurt her panties, I realized. Grace had a neatly trimmed, blonde bush and a nice ass I noticed as she threw her panties.

Then the music stopped as all the boys stared at Grace’s nudity and she suddenly flushed, realizing what she did and reached for her jeans with one hand, trying to cover her sex with the other hand.

“Wait,” Kurt said. “Why don’t you lovely ladies be our groupies.”

That was a such a great idea, I thought and I glanced at Grace and she seemed to agree with me. “Sure, Kurt,” I said with a smile

I walked into the garage and Kurt grabbed me and started kissing me. I struggled in his arms and he broke the kiss. “What’s wrong, Mrs. Sullivan? Groupies are supposed to fuck the band, right.”

“Oh, yeah,” I flushed in embarrassment. You always heard stories about girls who went backstage to be groupies, to let the band have them.

Kurt gives me the wonderful opportunity to be a groupie in his band, Satan’s Silvered Tongue, and I almost blew it. Grace was doing better, sitting on the drummer’s lap. Bones had his hands between her legs and was rubbing her pussy. Kurt was kissing me again and I kissed him back, the piercing on his lips rubbed roughly on my lips, excitingly so. When he broke the kiss there was a dark lust burning in his teenage eyes.

“I’ve been jerking off to you since I was twelve, Mrs. Sullivan,” Kurt groaned. “And now I get to fuck you.” He tore my blouse open, shaking his head. “We need to get you some better clothes. If you want to be a groupie for my band you needed to dress better.”

“Of course, Kurt,” I quickly agreed. Being a groupie for his band was the most important thing in the world to me.

My bra came off next, my round breasts spilling out. Kurt pinched one of my nipples so hard I gasped in pain. “Nice tits, Mrs. Sullivan,” Kurt smiled wickedly. “I can’t wait to pierce these fat nipples.” He yanked my skirt off, fingered my blonde pubic hair. He grabbed some of my downy hair
and ripped a fistful of it out. “My groupies need to be shaved.”

“Ouch,” I gasped, rubbing my groin where he ripped the pubic hair out. “That hurt, Kurt.”

He grabbed my nipple, pinching so hard I fell to my knees. “The pain makes me happy. Suck my cock, whore,” he ordered, his fingernail biting painfully into my nipple.

I unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock as fast as I could, sucking it into my mouth. His cock was small and skinny, even when it was fully hard in my mouth. He let go of my nipple to grab the side of my head and fuck my mouth hard. Sean was never rough like this when we made love, but if this is what made Kurt happy. I was a groupie, here to please the band.

“Oh, fuck!” Kurt moaned. “Your mouth feels as great as I imagined, Mrs. Sullivan! Suck my cock! You fucking slut! Oh, fuck!”

Kurt’s cock was shoving in and out of my mouth rapidly. Even thrust all the way inside my lips, his cock was too short to shove down my throat. I could never take all of Sean’s cock into my mouth. His balls slapped my chin as he fucked me and then he groaned and his salty cum flooded my mouth. He pulled his dick out and I spat his cum out on the garage floor. I was never a fan of cum in my mouth and Sean would always pull out and shoot onto my tits.

Kurt’s slap knocked me to the floor. “Groupies swallow,” he barked at me.

“Sorry, Kurt,” I cried. My face stung from his blow. “I’ll swallow from now on.”

“Good, if you do what I say, I want have to hurt you,” Kurt smiled.

“Okay, Kurt,” I nodded.

“Now, swallow,” he pointed to the gob of white cum congealing on the dirty garage floor.

I bent down, licking the cum up, trying not to gag on the taste of dirt and motor oil mixed in with his cum. “Lick it up, Mrs. Sullivan,” Kurt moaned. “Like a good little bitch.”

“You came so fast,” Pat laughed. “Kurt finally got a girl to suck him off and he busts his nut in a minute.”

Pat fell to the ground as Kurt punched him in the face. Blood streamed from Pat’s broken nose as Kurt drew back his foot and kicked him in the gut. Pat screamed in pain as Kurt kicked him over and over again with his steel-toed boots. “This is my fucking band, Pat!” Kurt screamed. “Don’t fucking make fun of me! No one will ever get to fucking laugh at me again.” He glared at the other two band members.

Tor was jerking off to Grace sucking sucking on Bones’s cock. “Yeah, sure,” Tor moaned as he pumped his cock.

“Yeah,” Bones groaned. “Whatever you say, Kurt. Just keep me in pussy!”

Kurt laughed and he kicked Pat once more in the stomach.

Kurt’s cock was hard as he yanked me to my feet and bent me over his dad’s Geo Prism and thrust his cock into my cunt. Kurt fucked me hard and fast. “You love my cock, don’t you, Mrs. Sullivan. It’s the best!”

Kurt’s cock was the smallest I had ever had inside me. Not that I had a lot before my husband, Sean, but Kurt’s cock was definitely the best. “I love your cock, Kurt!” I moaned back, rolling my hips and hoping my pussy was making Kurt’s cock feel wonderful.

“Fuck!” Tor groaned and I glanced over to see white cum fly from his cock so splatter in Grace’s blonde hair.

“Watch were you’re shooting that shit!” Bones growled, pulling his hand back to avoid getting hit.

“Tiffany?” a strangled voice gasped.

I turned and there was my husband Sean staring in horror at me getting fucked. I didn’t understand why he looked so horrified. I was a groupie and groupies got fucked. “Hi, Sean,” I panted. “I guess I…ohh…got sidetracked getting the milk,” I laughed.

“I…I don’t understand,” Sean stammered. Why was there so much hurt in his eyes. Did he not understand that it was okay for Kurt to fuck me.

“I’m Kurt’s groupie,” I explained.

“And you love my cock,” Kurt said with a vicious smile.

“I do, I love Kurt’s cock,” I moaned. “It’s the best cock I’ve ever had.”

Sean worked his mouth. “I…What…Is he making you say that?”

“No, Sean,” I gasped. My orgasm was building inside me. Knowing my husband was watching made this oddly thrilling. “He asked me to be his groupie and I jumped at the opportunity.”

“Fuck, your wife has a nice cunt, Mr. Sullivan,” Kurt groaned. “Now, run along. Your wife doesn’t love you anymore, right Mrs. Sullivan.”

“Yes!” I panted, as my love evaporated away. How could I love anyone when I was Kurt’s groupie, his woman. “Go away, Sean. I’m with Kurt, now. I don’t love you anymore.”

Sean stumbled off, looking like a destroyed man. I felt bad for the man. I loved him once and I never wanted to hurt him. He just needed to accept the way things were now. Kurt was fucking me harder and harder, my orgasm nearing. I groaned loudly, wanting everyone to know just how great Kurt’s dick made me feel. His cock just felt so amazing as he plunged over and over into me.

“I’m cumming, Kurt,” I moaned as my pussy rippled on the small dick inside me. “Oh, fuck, your cock feels so great.”

“Your cunt feels nice, Mrs. Sullivan,” Kurt moaned and then he was shooting inside me. I was so happy. My pussy made Kurt feel good.

Kurt pulled out and shouted, “Tor stop pounding your pud and come fuck a real pussy.”

Tor almost fell on his face, tripping as he ran over, holding his pants up one-handed, his cock bouncing about as he ran. He wasted no time sticking his dick inside me. He may have just cum on Grace, but he was ready to have a taste of my delicious pussy. I was so wet from my cum and Kurt’s sperm, Tor slid right in. He had a big dick and I moaned in appreciation as it filled me up.

“Does his dick feel better than mine?” Kurt asked as Tor pounded my cunt.

“No, Kurt!” I gasped. “Your dick’s the best.”

He smiled. It was the smile I learned to love, because it meant he was happy with me and wasn’t going to hurt me. After Tor finished in me, Bones just had to have a taste of me. His cock was smaller than Tor’s, and bigger than Kurt’s, but did not feel nearly as good. Bone was fucking me good and hard, my orgasm building nicely, when I heard a scream and turned to see what was happening.

Grace was on the floor getting fucked by Kurt. He was pinching her nipples on her large breasts and Grace was crying out in pain. That just seemed to encourage Kurt and he fucked her harder and harder, pulling on her poor nipple until her entire tit was stretched out and it looked like Kurt would rip it off. And then he would let it go, the breast snapping back like a rubber band and Kurt laughed.

“Oh please, that hurts!” moaned Grace, her face red from crying.

Kurt bit her nipple and she screamed. “Fucking slut!” Kurt moaned. “I love your screams! Do you feel how hard you’ve made me?”

“Yeah, Kurt!” Grace moaned. “You’re so hard inside me.”

Kurt started chewing at her breast, leaving bite marks and he fucked her harder and harder as she moaned in pain. “Please stop, Kurt!” she begged. “Oh, god, please! It hurts so bad.”

Bones kept right on fucking me, not caring about the cruelty Kurt was inflicting on Grace. I felt bad for her, but these were the abuses a groupie had to suffer. I had been close to cumming, but hearing Grace’s screams brought me out of it. Bones pumped a few more times into me and then he came hard inside my pussy.

When Kurt finished with Grace, she was curled up on the floor. Her breasts were bruised and raw and she whimpered in pain. Kurt had a pleased look on his face. Beyond Grace, Pat gave a quite moan as he lay battered on the floor.

“Who wants to see some lesbo action?” Kurt asked.

“Hell yeah,” Tor smiled.

“Mrs. Sullivan, why don’t you sixty-nine with her,” Kurt leered, stroking his tiny cock.

I knelt down next to Grace and gently kissed her crying face. “Shh, Grace,” I whispered. “Kurt wants us to go down on each other, okay?”

Grace sniffed. “Okay, Tiffany.”

I kissed her lips. They were soft and gentle, not like a man’s. I had never kissed a woman before and found it was nice. And being watched by Kurt and the band just increased how nice it was. I stroked her sides, avoiding her tender breasts as we kissed and Grace started to relax. I laid on my back and pulled Grace atop me. Her mauled breasts rested on mine as we kissed.

“Eat some pussy!” Bones called out.

Grace smiled, her tears had stopped, and she flipped around. Her pussy was sticky with Bones and Kurt’s cum, matting her brown fur. I licked through the sticky mess, gathering the salty cum and her sweet juices onto my lips. Grace’s tongue started gently lapping through my sore cunt. I had never been fucked so many times and my pussy wasn’t used to it.

As our tongues licked each other, our pleasure started to build and we started eating each other out more aggressively. My tongue was digging into her hole, delighting in the taste of her sex and I shuddered as her tongue found my sensitive clit. I returned the favor, nursing at her clit and feeling Grace writhe in pleasure atop me.

Suddenly, an acrid liquid splashed in my face. Kurt was pissing on Grace’s pussy, spraying us with his urine. It splashed on my face and ran down into my mouth. It stung my eyes and tasted salty on my lips. “Drink it,” Kurt ordered and I opened my mouth and let his urine fill my lips, swallowing the disgusting liquid, and then licking it off Grace’s pussy.

“Fuck that’s nasty,” Bones moaned and I could feel urine running off Grace’s face, down my pussy to pool around my ass.

Grace and I kept eating each other’s piss drenched pussies. Kurt didn’t tell us to stop. We licked the urine off each other’s pussies, then went back to sucking clits. I felt my orgasm build, a sweet thing growing in my womb. Grace’s tongue felt like silk as it rasped around my pussy. She shuddered atop me, her moans vibrating my clit as she came. I held my lips tight to her pussy, sucking all her juices out as her tongue swirled around my clit. My entire body went rigid then I shuddered beneath Grace as I came one her agile tongue.

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

I was horrified, listening to my mom talk about the abuses she suffered at the hands of Kurt. “And he kept you and Grace?”

“Just me,” Mother bitterly said. “I was his favorite. The woman he dreamed of.” Fresh tears leaked out of her eyes. “He told Grace to go and be a whore. To make a living selling her body.”

“And that was Grace Cooper?” I asked, suddenly feeling sick. “She had a daughter named Dawn?”

Mother nodded. You’re just like your cunt of a mother! She was a whore, too! And you grew up to be just like her! The words Dawn’s father yelled as he spanked her last week when we made Dawn my little sister’s sex slave. I thought we were punishing a bully. But she was as much a victim of Kurt as her mother was. As I was. Dawn and I were both robbed of our mothers by that asshole. I suddenly felt sick. All the guilt I had been forcing down the last few weeks was threatening to overwhelm me.

Mark and I weren’t this evil, right? We never abused a woman.

Except Karen, my guilt whispered. And that girl Mark raped. But we were punishing Karen, I protested to my guilt. She attacked us. Almost got Desiree killed. She deserved her punishment. And we treat her well, now. She’s one of ours sluts. We love her. We’d defend her just as much as we’d defend the others.

“Pat died on the floor of the Garage. When the police came, Kurt just explained it as an accident and the police bought it. Pat would not be the last man Kurt killed. He was a sadist. A black-hearted monster.” Mother swallowed. “That night he got needles and pierced my nipples. It hurt so much. But not nearly as much as the piercings in my labia and the one in my clitoral hood. When he would feel vicious, he would pull on my piercings until I screamed. And the worst part was, I was happy that Kurt was hurting me.

“They replaced Pat on bass with Skinny Mat and started playing clubs. Thanks to Kurt’s wish, anyone who heard his band play would think they were amazing. Any woman would get all hot and horny for him and throw their panties on stage. Kurt would start to bring women up on stage and fuck them before the cheering crowd. If their boyfriends objected too much, Kurt would beat them. Some died, some got off with a few broken bones, and others were left brain damaged.

“And it wasn’t just men he beat. Some of the girls he chose would be beaten bloody or choked or cut.” A ragged sobbed escaped my mom’s lips. “I saw such terrible things. And then, she appeared. My rescuer.”

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

Thirteen Years Ago

My breasts were sore from Kurt’s affections as I lay on my side. Today he chewed on my breasts. He just loved them so much. But now they were painfully sore and covered in bite marks. His cum was inside my pussy and I was enjoying the after glow of a nice orgasm. Kurt’s dick never failed to leave me satisfied, even with all the pain I suffered.

A few girls crouched on the floor and Kurt was deciding which ones to show his affections to next. One of the girls, who had curly, light-brown hair, gave Kurt a mocking smile, almost a sneer as she glared at him with gray eyes filled with loathing.

“Fucking whore!” snarled Kurt.

Nothing would make Kurt angrier than being mocked. His hand snaked out and he grabbed the girl by the hair. She clamped her mouth shut to avoid screaming as Kurt heaved her across the room into his table. It was a heavy, wooden table, more of a workbench really, where Kurt kept his tools for the girls that made him really angry: pliers, knives, hammers, needles, whips.

The woman slammed into the table, hard, the corner catching her in the stomach. She flopped across the table and snatched up a skinning knife, holding it up threateningly at Kurt. The woman’s mocking smile only grew larger as Kurt boldly walked over to her. She looked like a Valkyrie, standing defiant against Kurt.

It was a futile gesture. No one could resist Kurt. All fighting would earn you was pain. I wanted to close my eyes, I hated watching Kurt punish a woman. But Kurt liked it when I watched his chastisements. When he would finish, he would be hard and I would have to satisfy him. I felt so bad for this woman. Kurt was going to kill her, and it wouldn’t be quick. My stomach roiled and I wanted to sick up.

“You can’t stab me with that dagger,” Kurt lazily ordered. He stood right next to the woman, the knife inches away and held out his hand. “Give me that dagger so I can cut your mocking lips off, cunt.”

Kurt screamed as the woman stabbed his arm with the dagger, instead. He staggered back, fear blossoming in his face as the blood ran red down his arm, his feet tripping on themselves and he fell on his ass. And the woman walked towards him, bloody dagger in hand. I smelled urine and realized Kurt had pissed himself, a dark stain spreading on his jeans.

The woman grabbed a pair of his handcuffs off Kurt’s worktable. Kurt had quite a collection at this point, “Please don’t hurt me?” Kurt blubbered like a baby as the woman advanced on him. “Who are you? Why doesn’t my power’s work on you? Please, I can give you whatever you want. Please!”

“Handcuff yourself around the table leg,” she growled, tossing him the handcuffs.

Kurt was eager to obey, snapping the handcuff about his right wrist, wrapping the chain around the table leg and then cuffing his left hand, trapping him to the table. “Please! I can give you wealth! Please!”

The woman ignored his please and bent down, pulling off his urine soaked pants and saw his little cock. “Such a tiny prick for such a large monster,” the woman mocked, stroking the cock. The cock swelled unbidden in her hand. “No wonder you had to sell your soul. How could you ever get a woman, let alone satisfy one, with that little thing.”

Kurt was sobbing. “I’ll do anything! Just don’t hurt me!”

The woman’s lip curled in disgust. “I am Sister Louise Afra of the Order of Mary Magdalene. I have been sent by God to stop your perversions, Warlock!”

Sister Louise straddled Kurt, guiding his cock to her pussy, sliding down his short length. “If you wanted to fuck me, you just had to ask,” Kurt’s voice cracked with mock bravado, a forced grin on his face.

“When you cum in me, and you will cum, I will exorcise your powers.” There was a broad smile on Sister Louise’s face and horror appearing in Kurt’s. “Yes, you realize it now. All the people under your control will regain themselves. Everyone will remember all the lives you destroyed, all the pain you inflicted. I do not think the authorities will be so forgiving anymore or all those accidental deaths.”

“No, please no!” he begged as Sister Louise rose up and down on his cock. “I won’t cum. You can’t make me!”

“It’s biology, monster,” Sister Louise purred wickedly. “You won’t be able to hold on forever. You’re seventeen, I bet it won’t be able to last long at all.”

Kurt struggled beneath her, fighting to get free of his handcuffs and Sister Louise rose up and down on him, laughing and mocking him. “Your dick is so small, I can barely feel it in my pussy.” Faster and faster she rode him, dangling her breasts in his face. Kurt started looking around, looking for anything to help him.

“Mrs. Sullivan!” he shouted, his eyes staring at me. Even after six months and countless abuses, he still called me Mrs. Sullivan. “Save me, attack her!”

My Kurt was in trouble and I leapt to my feet and went at Sister Louise. Her finger moved down, sliding up inside her cunt alongside to his cock and came out stick with her juices and then she thrust her finger at my forehead and spoke a single word, and I stumbled back and I just watched. Nothing mattered as I watched Kurt struggle against his bonds.

“Save me, cunt!” Kurt growled and Sister Louise slapped him.

“The only cunt here is you,” she hissed. “A little cunt with a little dick who thought he was a big man!”

Sister Louise leaned back, riding him faster and faster. She started rolling her hips, her breasts bouncing. She started grinding her clit and playing with her nipples, clearly enjoying Kurt’s humiliation. When she came, she let out a low, throaty moan, her breasts heaving beautifully as she rode him. And she never stopped, kept fucking him right through her orgasm.

Kurt was biting his lip, straining not to cum and then his body arched and Sister Louise screamed, “Shalak!” and drew something on his forehead with her sticky finger. Kurt’s forehead blazed with white light and…I was myself.

And everything Kurt did to me, made me enjoy, made me commit poured into my mind and I collapsed on the floor sobbing. A ragged ache filled my heart. I betrayed my sweet Sean. Oh God. I could remember the hurt in his eyes as I allowed Kurt to fuck me. My poor husband thought I betrayed him. I sobbed and sobbed, screaming in guilt. How could I have done that to my husband, the only man I ever really loved. I’d lost him, forever. There was no undoing what I did, what Sean saw. I remembered signing the divorce papers Kurt placed in front of me, signing away my parental rights to my daughters. Writing that disgusting letter Kurt dictated to me.

“Sean,” I wrote, “You and the girls are just burdens to me. I want to have fun, to go out partying. To enjoy wild sex. I haven’t been happy for a long time. But I’m happy with Kurt. I’m happy when his cock fucks me. I’m happy when he cums in my cunt or my ass. I love it when shares me with his friends. Your cock just wasn’t good enough for my horny cunt.” I signed my name and left the letter and the documents on the bed I shared with Sean while he and the girls were at work and school and daycare. I packed up a suitcase with the few slutty clothes I owned from before the girls were born, and never even looked back.

I sobbed and sobbed and then my savior was hugging me. “Shh, it’s alright. He can never hurt you again.”

I clung to her crying my pain into her chest as she gently rocked me.

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

“Sister Louise explained it all to me,” Mom said, finishing her story. I felt tears staining my face.

We were sitting on the floor of a house out in the foothills somewhere near Eatonville. Mom never stopped telling her story the entire ride. She didn’t stop as we walked up to the house and sat on this musty, old couch. I spent all these years hating my mom and now I didn’t know what to think, what to feel.

I remembered the betrayal I felt when Mark released me after only a day under his control. And Mark never mistreated me. Six months she endured that monsters brutal lusts.

Questions and guilt whirled in my head. Do all our girls feel this way? We never mistreated them. We loved them. We weren’t the monster Kurt was. Was it right to keep them? Was I just as much a monster as Kurt? Could we even free them if we wanted to? We bound them with the Zimmah spell. Did we destroy their lives?

What did it matter, Mark was dying and I would follow him into death.

“Why didn’t you come back to us?” I asked, pushing away the guilt. “Dad’s never stopped loving you, mom? Why didn’t you come back to us, Mom?”

She flinched as if she’d been slapped. “H-he never stopped loving me?” Pain flickered on her face. “How could he still love me after…after all Kurt made me do?”

“I don’t know, Mom,” I answered. “Shannon and I tried to convince him to forget about you and find someone else. We tried to set him up with teachers, friend’s single mothers. But he turned them all down. He even still wears his wedding ring.”

Tears brimmed in Mother’s eyes. “Kurt, he…he threw my wedding band away. ‘Marriage is just trash,’ he told me. ‘My mom bailed on my dad and me. We were just garbage to her.’ And…” A ragged sob shook her body. “I thanked him for freeing me from my marriage.”

God, I wanted to hug her. If my hands weren’t zip tied behind my back I think I would have. “You can still go to dad,” I urged her. “Free me and we’ll go see dad, and, and I can be with Mark when he…when he passes.”

A look of incredible longing crossed my mom’s face. “I…I made vows.” Her voice quivered. “I received Sister Frances Bernadette’s Gift.” She hugged herself. “Oh, God, please help me. I don’t know what to do. I miss Sean so much.”

“Let’s go, Mother,” I told her, gazing into her blue eyes. “Dad’s waiting for you. I don’t think he ever stopped waiting for you. And…and, I want my mom back. I can explain to Dad what happened to you. He knows about…things. About what Mark and I can do. He’ll understand.”

I could see her wavering, the look of longing on her face, and of hope.

Then her phone rang.

“Theodora,” she answered. Her face hardened. My heart sank, I’ve lost her. My hopes of seeing Mark one last time faded. “Come inside,” she said on the phone.

“Please, mommy,” I begged as she picked up a roll of duct tape, ripping off length of silvery tape. “Please, let’s go see Dad. Please, mommy!” She walked forward and shoved the tape on my lips. The tape was stiff and sticky and I could faintly taste glue on my lips.

The SWAT officer walked in and Theodora pulled out his sidearm, checked to see if it was loaded, and then looked at me with steely resolve. “Let’s put your claims to the test, Mary.”

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

“You can still see her, Mark,” a woman’s voice floated out of the darkness. “You are not dead, yet.”

“Who’s there?” I shouted into the darkness. Then I realized I was no longer falling, feminine hands were grasping my shoulders, long fingernails biting into my collar bone. I spun around and gasped. “Lilith?”

She floated in the darkness, as stunningly beautiful as always. Her silvery hair fanned out, waving lazily about, her violet eyes sparkling with contempt. She was clad in her scarlet dress, so sheer I could see all of her generous charms. I felt lust stirring inside me and I fought it down. I would need a clear head to deal with Lilith.

“Here to taunt me?” I asked.

A smile played on her lips. “As satisfying as that would be, we have one last piece of business to discuss.”

“Not interested,” I shrugged. I learned my lesson dealing with Lilith.

“Even if it would save your life.” Her smile broadened. “And your precious Mary’s life.”

I paused. I didn’t want to die. “What?”

“I want Karen.”

“You want the thing growing inside her, you mean?”

Her eyes tightened and she pursed her lips. “Yes. I want Karen, and my child, until she gives birth. Then I’ll return her to you.”

I squinted. “Why. Once I’m dead, how can I stop you from having her? What game are you playing at, Lilith.”

“You bonded her with the Zimmah ritual. Did you forget what I told you?” Her eyes narrowed in disgust. “Did you forget that when you die all those bound to you will die. And I can’t have Karen dying before she gives birth. That would spoil all of my plans.”

“So, in exchange for me loaning you Karen until your child is born, you will return me to the health I had before Alice shot me,” I carefully said. “And you will return Karen to me unharmed.”

“I will do nothing to harm Karen,” Lilith promised.

I frowned. I couldn’t see any loopholes. I’m sure they were there, but I really had nothing left to lose. “Then we have a deal, Lilith.”

She smiled a predatory, triumphant smile. “I grant your boon, Mark Glassner,” her words purred through the darkness and suddenly I was filled with pain and…

…I was staring up at the sky. I had a mask over my face. Two strange men and a woman were leaning over me. They were paramedics, I realized. I sat up, pushing the facemask off. I felt something piercing my arm, an IV I realized, and ripped that out.

“What the fuck!” the first paramedic shouted.

My shirt was gone and several bandages dotted my chest and stomach. I ripped them off to see my perfectly unharmed chest and stomach smeared with some dark blood. I felt alive. I smiled broadly and yelled my exhilaration into the sky. I was alive. I could feel the tickle of grass on my hands, the feel of the warm sun kissing my skin and a soft breeze rustling my hair. The world smelled alive and wonderful.

“I am alive!” I roared and laughed. Nothing else ever felt so sweet. “Mary, I’m alive!”

“It’s a miracle,” the female paramedic gasped. “The wounds have healed. My God, they’re completely gone.”

There were cops standing around, all staring in amazement at me. “How?” one asked me.

“A miracle,” another whispered.

“Praise God,” a cop whispered.

“What are you?” a fireman asked. “How did you…”

“Tell me you got that! Tell me you were rolling film?” a woman demanded. Debra from Q13 Fox, her microphone hanging loosely in her hand as she stared in wide-eyed amazement. “Tell me you to got that?”

“Holy shit, I got that,” her cameraman answered, pointing is camera at me. “I got the scarlet light and everything. Holy fucking shit!”

“This is unbelievable,” Debra gasped. “Let’s do my coverage over there and then upload this to the network! Jesus, this is the news story of the century. A miracle happened and we caught it!”

I was about to object to Debra’s plans when I got a good look at the cul-de-sac and my heart stopped. It looked like a war zone. The street was lined with ambulances, fire trucks, and cop cars. And everywhere I looked there were people lying on the ground, some had paramedics working on them, others were covered by blankets. Houses and cars were shot up. Bullet casings glinted gold in the sunlight.

And blood. Dark blood pooling on pavement, splashed on the sides of houses, running down the fenders of cars.

I looked back at our house and gasped. Bullet holes racked along the front of the house, shattering windows. Our sluts were clustered on the porch watching me in amazement. A stretcher came out, carried by two firemen. I stared in stunned disbelief as they walked by carrying Xiu. My busty Xiu had a mass of bloody bandages on her stomach and looked so pale as they carried her past to a waiting ambulance.

What the hell happened here? And where was Mary? The last thing I remembered was Mary’s face before the darkness. I looked around and I noticed the bodies covered with blankets dotting the neighborhood. Fear constricted my heart. No, she could not be dead. Not when I got a second chance.

“What happened? Where’s Mary?” I asked, ignoring all the cops and fireman that were watching me with awe.

“Sir, we were attacked by some nuns,” a bodyguard told me. She was Black, one of the new guards. 51, I think her number was.

“Where is Mary?” I demanded. Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead.

“The nun took her,” 51 bitterly said. “We tried to stop her, but…”

“The nun’s used the SWAT from the raid,” Violet told me. There was a bandage on her forehead. “We were all so frightened, Master.”

The teenage slut hugged me fiercely. The other sluts followed her down, clustering about me. All of them reached out to touch me, smiling happily and muttering about me being alive. There was Alison and Desiree, and Korina, pregnant with my child. April and Lillian hugged each other in joy. Jessica and Thamina were supporting Sam, who had a bloody bandage on her leg.

All the sluts were accounted for. Xiu was being loaded into the back of an ambulance. Willow and Noel were at work. Karen was in the hospital and it was Fiona’s turn to stay with her. I frowned, no, there was one slut missing. “Where’s Chasity?” I demanded. “We need to go after the nuns. We need to rescue Mary.”

“She’s dead, sir,” 51 reported, sadly.

“Who is dead?” I asked, confused. Not Chasity.

51’s eyes flicked over to a body near the shot-up police cruiser. “Chasity, sir. She died defending Mistress. I got the man who killed her.” She patted the black machine-gun in her hands.

I stared uncomprehendingly at her. How could Chasity be dead? She was so dependable. Anger started to burn in me. These fucking nuns. Why couldn’t they just leave me the fuck alone. I never did anything to them. I felt pain in hand and uncurled my fist to see bloody nail marks in my palm.

“Who else died?” I asked, coldly, staring at my hand.

“05, 22, 34, 63, and 78,” 51 reported. “04, 30, and 47 are critically injured and may not survive. And Xiu. She took a round through the gut from inside the house. Another eighteen bodyguards have moderate injuries. There are only ten of us fit for duty.” She paused. “We killed two nuns and three of the SWAT and critically injured another four. We captured another four more with moderate injuries. One nun and a SWAT officer got away. Along with Mary. Alice, the woman who shot you, she sustained critical injuries and may not survive either.”

“Fuck,” I whispered. Emotions threatened to overwhelm me and I shoved them back down. I needed to save Mary. The rest, the grief and anger and guilt, that all could wait.

“Sam!” I barked at the injured Asian graduate student. She was our newest sex slave. She was translating the Magicks of the Witch of Endor for us. “Is there any spell in the book that would let me track Mary?”

She frowned, thinking. “Um, yes. The Alluwph ritual. You will need, um, something very personal of the person and hold it in your hands. Think about the person, about your connection with the person and say Alluwph.”

Something personal. I frowned then went into Mary’s art studio. I found my buttoned-down shirt she liked to wear when painting. She always looked so beautiful wearing only this shirt. I held it in my hands, thinking about Mary, about her beautiful smile, how the shirt draped her plump ass and how beautiful her bare legs looked. I concentrated as hard as I possibly could, and whispered, “Alluwph.”

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

I watched Karen’s hospital room from the shadows. One of Mark’s whores, Fiona, was watching Karen, a bored expression on Fiona’s face. I smiled, Karen was mine, now. Well, she was mine until the birth, and that gave me certain powers over her.

I manifested and Fiona jumped in alarm, shouting, “Lilith!”

I ignored the stupid girl. There was nothing I could do to her anyways. This manifestation could not interact with the Mortal World except in certain, very limited ways. It didn’t have the freedom of being summoned, but it was enough freedom. And owning Karen, even temporary, was one of those limited exceptions. I reached out and grabbed the unconscious woman’s hand. I could feel her life being slowly drained by my vessel growing quickly inside her.

“Soon,” I whispered to her belly. Soon my vessel would be born I would be free of the Abyss forever.

I concentrated and drew Karen with me back into the Shadows and then shifted to Seattle, to the house of Babylon. It was a modest dwelling, but adequate, for now. I concentrated again, and Manifested with Karen into the guest bedroom. Chantelle and Lana were ready, scooping Karen up off the floor and placing her gently in the waiting bed.

“Keep her safe,” I charged my High Priestesses.

“We won’t fail you, my Goddess,” Chantelle murmured.

Both women stared reverently at Karen’s belly. Lana reached out and placed her hand ever so gently on Karen’s stomach. A smile quickened on her face. Chantelle’s hand joined hers, awe painting Chantelle’s beautiful face. They both knew their Goddess grew within.

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

I whispered, “Alluwph.”

From my chest, a pair of entwined red threads, wrapped so tightly together they were practically one thread. A black chain wrapped about both of the threads, shackled them together. I recognized those red threads. They connected my soul to Mary’s soul and represented our love. The threads led off to the south, vanishing through the wall. Tears were shining in my eyes.

“I’m coming, Mare,” I whispered. “Just hold on.”

I ran back outside. “51, gather the remaining bodyguards. We’re going after Mary.”

“Yes, sir!” 51 saluted.

The ten bodyguards still fit for duty and I piled into three cop cars. I rode shotgun in the lead car, guiding 51 as best as I could. The line pointed straight to where Mary was, but not which streets to take. We tore off down Shaw Road heading south. Eventually we were forced to cut west when we hit Sunrise Drive. We drove west until we reached Meridian, and then we turned south. We passed through Graham, racing as fast as we could. Once we were through Graham, heading out towards Eatonville, the threads led us down several side roads until we came to a single house in the middle of a field. A silver Jeep Cherokee parked in the driveway. The threads pointing right towards the house.

We got out of the car, the bodyguards flanking out to encircle the house. Three of them were armed with AR-15’s, the others with handguns and shotguns. All were wearing flak jackets. My heart was hammering. My Mary was inside that house. I was so close. I just wanted to run across the field and kick in the door and save my love.

The door to the house banged open and an unarmed SWAT officer walked out, his arms held up. He marched forward, straight towards me. The bodyguards all trained their weapons on him but none opened fire. I could see the SWAT officers aura, the black of a Thrall, but surrounded by a band of gold, a corona of light around darkness.

“Mark Glassner I have a message for you!” he shouted. “You, and only you, are to enter the house unarmed. If you enter armed or if anyone else enters, Theodora shall kill your woman. You have five minutes or Mary dies.”

And then he turned and started walking back to the house. I stood up and 51 grabbed my arm. “Master, don’t. Never give a hostage taker another hostage.”

She was quoting her training at me, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t risk Mary’s life. If this Theodora wanted to talk. Fine. She had a lot to answer for. I strode out across the field, almost catching up with the SWAT officer before I reached the house. I followed him in and he led me to a small living room.

Mary was gagged and her arms were bound behind her back. Tears ran down her eyes and she struggled against her restraints. A sandy-blonde woman, young like all the nuns, with piercing blue eyes, stood next to Mary, a 9mm handgun pointed at her head. Fear roiled inside me. I would need to be careful. I didn’t want to provoke this woman, not with Mary’s life at stake.

“I am Mark Glassner,” I said, holding my hands out to the side. “Let’s talk, Theodora. There’s no need for any more violence.”

“I’ve been speaking with Mary, here, and she seems to think there’s some good in you,” Theodora answered. Her blue eyes were skeptical of the claim.

I noticed Theodora’s face was puffy from crying and there was something familiar about it. Mary and her could almost be sisters, I realized. Their faces have a similar, heart shape about them. “We can come to an arrangement, Theodora. No one else needs to get hurt.” Especially not my Mary.

“Mary claims that you would give up your powers for her.” She cocked the hammer. “Well, let’s put that to the test. You can walk out of here, Mark Glassner, and keep your powers, and I’ll kill Mary. Or, you can let me exorcise you.” A smile played on her lips. “Let’s see if you can really give up all that power.”

I looked at Mary’s face, at her green eyes. I saw the trust in her eyes, the love. Could I give up all my power for Mary? Memories of Mary floated through my mind, all the fun we’ve had. All the times I watched her sleep. The times I’ve gazed deeply into her green eyes. The feel of her as I held er in my arms. Could I give up all my powers for that? Could I give up the thrill of making someone do what I want them to do? The pleasure of a woman submitting to my lusts. Was Mary worth giving all that up?

Yes, she was.

“Exorcise me,” I said, calmly.

The SWAT officer grabbed my arm and ratcheted a metal handcuff about my wrist, then he pivoted and I was being slammed into the ground. I coughed, the wind was knocked out of me when I hit the hardwood floor. Stunned and struggling to breath, the SWAT officer easily dragged me over to a metal radiator and slid the handcuff through the pipes and ratcheted the cuff about my other wrist.

Theodora sighed in disbelief and pulled the gun away and handed it back to the SWAT officer who holstered his weapon. “I can’t believe you would do this,” she whispered, glancing back at Mary. She bit her lip and for a moment; she looked liked a blonde Mary. “You must really love her.”

“More than anything,” I answered. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Of course,” she answered and began pulling off her maid outfit. I blinked, why was she wearing a maid’s outfit? It was gray smock, the type you’d see a maid wear at any hotel. Underneath, she was naked and quite lovely, full breasts with fat nipples, a trimmed, blonde bush between sleek thighs. My cock stirred and I didn’t fight the lust.

There was no point in fighting. Theodora won.

She walked over to me and I looked away, finding Mary’s eyes. I focused on her beautiful, emerald eyes as I felt her hands fumbling with my pants and then they were pulled down, along with my boxers. A warm, soft hand stroked my cock until I was fully erect, then I was engulfed in a warm, wet pussy.

Theodora moaned softly and started riding my cock, rolling her hips. She was quite good. All these supposedly holy nuns were so good at fucking. Karen really knew how to work a dick. And this Theodora also knew just how to please a man. She rose up and down on me, faster and faster. She felt so amazing and I pretended it was Mary on me. Mary’s velvety cunt bringing me closer and closer to my orgasm.

I would go to jail. I would try and protect Mary as much as I could, but there was no way I wasn’t going away for the rest of my life. But Mary would get to live, and that was worth it. Hell, maybe they’ll give me conjugal visits. The last three weeks of my life with Mary had been the best. I would never want to give them up.

My balls were tightening, Theodora’s gasps was getting heavier and louder. She was enjoying herself, I realized. Well, she might as well enjoy her work. I was getting so close, just a few more strokes and it would be over. I kept staring into Mary’s green eyes. I saw the love in them. She was worth it.

I groaned as my balls tightened and the pleasure surged through my body. My cum shot inside her tight cunt, filling Theodora’s pussy. I could feel her cunt spasming on my cock as she came, her back arching in pleasure. She threw back her head and shouted a single word.

“Zebed!”

I gasped in amazement. Instead of the my power being drawn out of me like I expected, I felt golden power flow into me. The energy was warm and filled every fiber of my body. Every fiber of my soul. I saw Mary’s eyes wideningin amazement. I looked up at Theodora, her face flushed from her orgasm, and her aura was fading from the gold of a nun into the silver of a regular human.

Theodora was no longer a nun.

“What did you do to me?” I asked Theodora in confusion.

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 31.

The Devil’s Pact Chapter Twenty-Six: The Order of Mary Magdalene

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

Chapter 26: The Order of Mary Magdalene

by mypenname3000

© Copyright 2013


Story Codes: Male/Female, Male/Teen female, Teen male/Female, Male/Females, Female/Female, Female/Females, Mind Control, Rimming, Oral, Anal, Incest, Water Sports, Orgy, Magic

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

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



Click here for Chapter 25.



“Come in,” I said to my fellow nun’s, inviting them into my hotel room.

Well, it wasn’t actually my hotel room. Last night when I flew into SeaTac from Miami, Providence led me to an insurance adjuster named Curtis at the airport’s baggage claim. We flirted while waiting for our luggage and he invited me up to his Hotel Room. When Providence gives you a place to stay, with a cute guy to boot, you don’t say no. Right now, Curtis was attending the convention in the hotel and I didn’t expect him back for a few more hours.

“Are you hungry?” I asked my Sisters, closing the door behind them, “Curtis is paying for it?” Last night, I was on top of Curtis, enjoying his big cock in my pussy as I rode him cowgirl style, when his wife called. The asshole spoke to his wife while I fucked him, the disgusting pig. Since he turned out to be a cheating asshole I didn’t feel bad at running up his hotel bill.

“Ohh, Curtis,” the black nun said in her exotic, African accent. “Is he handsome?”

“He has the most gorgeous, blue eyes, that just make you melt in your panties,” I answered, feeling like a teenage girl for the first time in decades, gossiping with my friends about boys. “But, please order something. The asshole is married.”

“Ah, so sad to see a marriage vow so easily broken,” tutted the Latina sister.

I realized I didn’t know their names. The only nun I knew was Sister Louise and she was captured by the Warlock Mark Glassner. “I am Theodora Mariam. And…and I’m so happy you’re here.” I could feel tears running hot down my cheeks. Pull yourself together, Theodora. You’re not actually eighteen.

The Latina nun hugged me gently, rocking me like a mother. “Shh, it will be alright, muñequita. I am Isabella Cecillia.”

“Agnes Chibuzo,” the African nun said and kissed my cheek. “God has sent us to aid you in your trials, Sister Theodora.”

I sniffed. “Thank you, Sisters.”

“Now, I have been traveling almost non-stop for last twenty-four hours,” Agnes said, wearily. “It has been a long trip from Sierra Leone. So tell me, why has God, through his servant Gabriel, sent us here.”

I told them everything I knew. How Sister Louise had tried to exorcise the Warlock Mark Glassner and been captured through the interference of Lilith of the Black Moon. How I was taught the ancient prayers and used Mark sister to attack him. But that failed. His lover, the other Warlock, freed him from the bond.

“It will be far messier, Ramiel told me, yesterday,” I finished. “Soldiers will be needed. Four and four and four.”

Isabella nodded. “It is like Napoleon all over again,” Isabella sighed. “There were three of us and we each bonded four soldiers under Napoleon’s command. We exorcised Napoleon at Waterloo. His wish to be Emperor destroyed, he lost the battle.” A look of old hurt crossed the tan face of Isabella. “Sister Eustace Mariam was killed in the struggle.”

“How old are you?” I asked in awe.

“I was born in the Year of our Lord, 1732,” Isabella answered.

I blinked, I knew we nuns could practically live forever, but most of us grew weary of the struggle after sixty or seventy years and passed their powers onto a successor. The only nun I had heard of that was over a hundred yeas old was the Mother Superior. “Have you ever faced a demon?” I asked Isabella, hopefully.

“No,” Isabella confessed. “That must be why there are three of us. This Warlock is using ancient magics.” Isabella sighed, wearily, rubbing her face. “I wish we had a monk or two with us.”

“A monk?” I frowned. “You mean a male nun, like us?”

“Well, not like us,” Isabella confessed. “When Creator in his infinite mercy gave his children the means to fight the Adversary, 144 were given the gift, half were men and half were women. The men’s gifts were different from ours. They were the soldiers. Given powers to fight demons and monsters and to protect us nuns in situations like this.”

“Why have I not heard of any monks?” I asked.

“The last monk died in 1942, exorcising Hitler,” Isabella sadly answered. “Five nuns and a monk and they all perished. But they broke Hitler’s powers and the Allies were able to eventually defeat the Third Reich.”

“The problem with the monks is their calling,” Agnes explained. “Too many died fighting and were unable to pass on their powers to a successor. We have dwindled as well. Maybe a dozen of us remain.”

“I fear the end is nearing,” Isabella said mournfully. “You are the last nun in North America. There are only two of us left in the Latin Americas.”

“We had four in Africa,” Agnes said, tears brimming on her eyes. “But two Warlocks appeared in the Congo, fighting for control over the jungle, and we lost two sisters exorcising them over the weekend. And I hear the Mother Superior herself had to deal with a Warlock in Paris.”

The Mother Superior was a legend. Supposedly, she was over a thousand years old and lived in the Motherhouse in Rennes-le-Château, France. Sister Louise told me whispered stories of the Mother Superior exorcisms from Vlad Tepesh to Rasputin and many other terrible men and women in between.

A sly smile appeared on Agnes’s face and she reached out and stroked my arm. “So, Theodora, tell us about this Curtis you’ve been indulging.”

A flush suffused my face. When we were given our Ecstasy, blanket indulgences were issued by the pope, forgiving any sin we may commit. Most nuns, at least this is what Sister Louise told me, used the opportunity to sin as much as possible before she once again must abstain.

“He has girth,” I said with a smile, remembering how good his cock felt stretching my pussy as he rode me last night. “I came twice with him last night, and once more this morning.”

“You naughty girl,” Agnes said with a twinkle. She glanced at Isabella. “Did you have time to indulge?”

Isabella gave a throaty laugh. “I live in a remote village in Guatemala. Many hours drive to the airport. This young buck, Miguel, drove me to the airport. I had my eye on him for several months, praying for a mission so I might indulge with him.” A smile appeared on her face. “On the drive to the airport, three times we stopped so he could ravish me.”

“What about you, Anges? Who did you fuck?” I asked.

Her grin turned naughty. “In Brussels I fucked this delightful young man in the airport restroom during my layover. And then in the flight into Seattle from Chicago, I flirted with this beautiful flight attendant named Sarai. She had silky, dusky skin and the most beautiful lips. A good Muslim girl she claimed, but when we arrived in Seattle, that good Muslim girl made me howl in pleasure in the women’s bathroom.”

We all giggled at that. But my joy did not last long, Ramiel’s words echoed in my mind. Soldiers are needed now. Four and four and four. My grin faded and I sighed and asked, “Where do we find four soldiers?” I asked.

“Providence,” Agnes yawned, and lay back on the bed. The TV turned on. “Sorry, I sat on the remote.”

“…go live to Sheriff Erkart about to give a press conference on the growing Mark Glassner scandal admits the SWAT unit of the Pierce County Sheriffs Department,” the anchor on the television said.

I sat up and my fellow nuns stared at the TV. Providence, I thought with a smile.

The camera cut to a room with a podium festooned with microphones. The seal of Pierce County Sheriff department hung behind the podium and a tall, distinguished looking man with black hair graying at the temples, stepped up to the podium. Cameras flashed in the room as he settled himself at the podium.

“Good evening,” the Sheriff greeted, sadly. “It is with a heavy heart that I am here today. An entire squad of the my SWAT unit, eleven men and one woman, have disgraced themselves and betrayed the public’s trusted in my Sheriff Department. As you all know, on Thursday, June 13th at approximately 4:10 AM, the FBI, with support from this SWAT unit, raided Mark Glassner’s house. As recent photos have shown, my officers have behaved disgracefully and will be suspended with pay until the State Patrol has finished their investigation.”

“God has provided,” Agnes breathed.

“Amen,” Isabella finished.

A smile crept up on my face. Mark Glassner enthralled an entire unit of SWAT. Ramiel had explained the spell Mark used to bound his Thralls and made them immune to our powers. The spell had to be performed individually by the Warlock. It seemed Providence was telling us that there were twelve, very dangerous Thralls out there lying loose just waiting for my Sisters and I to collect them.

“Amen,” I whispered as hope soared within me.

A soft snore broke my reverie and I giggled. Sister Agnes was sleeping on her side. She said it took her nearly twenty-four hours of travel to reach Seattle from Africa. The poor thing must be so tired.

“Isn’t she so beautiful,” Isabella whispered, her hand resting on my thigh. Her hand was warm and soft and a delicious thrill went through my body ending at my moistening snatch. Isabella turned to look at me, a smile playing on her brown face. “You are beautiful, too, Theodora,” she whispered in a Spanish lilt and I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks.

Isabella’s lips were full and moist and looked so kissable as her face drew closer and closer to mine. Her lips were soft as well and I could taste cherry lip gloss as I sucked on her lower lip. Her hand was sliding up my thigh, underneath my skirt, sliding closer and closer to my moistening cunt. I placed my hand on her silky leg, squeezing her thigh and reaching for the source of heat between her legs.

Her panties felt like satin and I rubbed the crotch of her panties and could feel the heat of her cunt. I pushed the panties up into the groove of her slit, feeling her moisture slowly seep through the satin fabric and coating my fingers with her sticky arousal. I moaned into Isabella’s mouth as her fingers gently caressed my lacy panties and shivered as she grazed my hard clit through the panties.

Isabella broke the kiss, licking her lips, and reached her other hand beneath my skirt and started tugging off my panties. I lifted my ass, allowing her to slip the panties down my leg. They were yellow and lacy, the gusset damp with my desire. Isabella sniffed the crotch, inhaling my spicy aroma and then she shoved my panties into my mouth with a naughty smile on her face.

“We do not want to wake Sister Agnes with your sweet moans,” she whispered with a naughty smile.

She pushed me back, spread my thighs and I moaned, the sound muffled by my panties, as she licked her gentle tongue through my slit. I could taste my flavor on my panties and it added to the excitement. Next to me, Sister Agnes snored softly, her pretty, coal-black face inches from my own. Isabella’s tongue was tasting me everywhere, sucking my labia into her mouth, flicking at my clit. Her fingers gently spread my labia open and then her tongue wiggled into my hole.

Oh god that felt so amazing. I gripped the green comforter and threw back my head as Sister Isabella pleasured my cunt. Oh, fuck her tongue felt so wonderful. I wanted to tell her just how much pleasure she was making me feel, but the panties stuffed in my mouth reduced me to grunts and moans. I was getting so close to cumming, my hips starting to writhe as my pleasure mounted. Her tongue was fucking in and out of my hole, her nose rubbing gently against my clit, every brush bringing me closer and closer until I screamed into my panties as I flooded Isabella’s face.

Isabella gave my cunt a last lick and then she was moving down, kissing my taint, lifting up my ass and sliding a pillow beneath me. Her breath was warm on my ass, and her fingers gently spread my asscheeks and I gasped into my panties as her tongue touched my puckered anus. A naughty thrill tingled through me as she tongued my ass.

Her tongue circled my asshole, and then pressed against the tight ring. Her tongue pressed and pressed and then pushed past the sphincter, wiggling inside my ass. I was moaning again into the panties, feeling a second orgasm building. Her fingers reached up and pinched my hard clit, rolling my small nub between her fingers, sending jolts of electricity throughout my writhing body.

Fuck, Isabella sure knew how to pleasure a woman. She was bringing me closer and closer to a second cum, and it was brewing up to be bigger than the last one. Her tongue was sliding in and out of my asshole, swirling around my tight anus. The naughty slut was making my ass and my cunt felt so amazing. That amazing feeling of release was building and building, sweet Jesus I was getting so close and then the delicious shudder, the muscles clenching in my ass and pussy, the electricity shooting through my body.

I was panting and Isabella was crawling up my body. She pulled my panties from my lips and then kissed me gently on the lips and I could taste the sour flavor of my ass. Then Isabella curled up against me, placed her head on my breast and fell asleep.

Three nuns, I thought as I cradled Isabella’s head to my chest. Mark wouldn’t stand a chance.

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

As I jogged down Shaw Road, Thursday morning, my mind kept drifting to the phone call from Willow yesterday and the explosive news she delivered. Karen was pregnant. By the demon Lilith, no less. Her baby was growing fast, almost a weeks growth in a day, according to Willow. The stress of the growing child had left Karen in such a weakened state, she was barely conscious half the time.

“We thought it best to abort the embryo,” Willow had explained, “and then Lilith appeared. She warned us that Karen’s life was tied to the child growing inside her. If the child died, so would Karen.”

It was fucking frustrating. There was nothing we could do. Since I made my Pact, I had never felt so helpless. Not even when Karen was atop me, trying to exorcise my powers. I was still able to struggle to summon Lilith. But there was absolutely nothing either Mary or I could do but wait for Karen to give birth and worry about what sort of problem the thing growing inside her would cause.

Last night, we sat for an hour with Karen and the one time she woke up she smiled at us before falling back unconscious. We instructed the hospital staff not to report her unusual pregnancy and would keep one of the sluts with her at all time. Anger was burning in my stomach as I watched my Karen lay so listless, all those machines attached to her body. Anger at Lilith and anger at myself for being so stupid.

That night, when Lilith offered to trade the secrets of magic for the simple price of fucking Karen, I didn’t even hesitate. What harm could there be in letting the demon fuck her? Lilith formed a cock from her clit and told me how she was just so horny. She hadn’t had a woman on her cock in centuries. I could understand that desperate need to get off in some girls snatch. All guys understood that. I didn’t even occur to me that Lilith might have some ulterior plan in mind when she fucked Karen.

But she was a demon and Mary and I had learned an important lesson. A demon never does anything unless it benefits them in someway. They’ll find a way to turn it to their advantage. Then why did the Devil give me the ability to summon Lilith in the first place. It wasn’t out of kindness or sense of fair play. From what Karen told me, Warlock hadn’t summoned demons or used magics in a thousand of years. The Devil wants something from me. He needs something that only I can do, something that only a Warlock give him. And the real question is, will it benefit me or bite me in the ass in the end like Lilith’s simple deal has become.

I was betting on it biting me in the ass.

When Mary and I were returning from the club we saw several moving trucks arriving. Our families were following our orders and moving in. We sent the sluts to go help out and my mom guilt tripped me into carrying boxes into her new house. Mary thought it would be funny to watch and make unhelpful comments until my mom thrust a box into her arms and Mary, with a frown, was guilted into helping out as easily as I was.

By noon, our families were moved in and we were all gathered back at the house to eat the delicious egg salad sandwiches Desiree made for lunch. The sandwiches were so good, I decided to forgive Desiree for getting out of carrying boxes with the rest of us.

“Sandy, Mark and I need you to come with us, this afternoon,” Mary told my mom as she wolfed down her sandwich. “We need to bond a few pilots.”

At three we had an appointment with the head of HR at Alaska Airlines to screen for our pilots. We bought a Gulfstream IV from this billionaire yesterday and Mary and I agreed having our pilots bound by the Zimmah spell is the safest course. That way we didn’t have to worry about a nun getting to our pilot and causing her to crash our plane with us in it.

“Oh, sure,” my mom answered. “I guess unpacking can wait.”

“Oh, we have plenty of time,” Betty said, patting my mom’s wrist fondly.

Betty was Mom’s…eh…girlfriend, I guess. I was having trouble wrapping my brain around my mom and Betty. For my entire life mom was a straitlaced Christian and it was surprising finding out she had been cheating on my dad with Betty Cooley for the last few years. And now that my dad was dead, and mom and Betty, with a little nudge from Mary, had moved in together.

“We should have a bar-ba-que,” Sean, my future father-in-law, suggested. “A nice, family get together once everyone gets settle in.” He had Felicity, the sex slave Mary gave him, dandled on his knee. Felicity was dressed in the sluttiest, naughty schoolgirl outfit I had ever seen. Sean was a high school teacher and it looked like he was working through all those years of not molesting his students with Felicity.

“Ohh, that sounds fun,” Missy chimed in. Missy was Mary’s little sister, still in High School, who looked almost the spitting image of Mary. The main difference, other than age, was Missy’s light, strawberry-blonde hair versus Mary’s darker, auburn hair.

“Monday?” I asked Mary, thinking what we might have plans for that day.

“You did schedule those tryouts for Monday, right?” Mary asked me. After I we got home from the hospital last night, I spent two hours calling police agencies in King and Thurston County to arrange for a new pool of women to draw more bodyguards from. With our families to protect and a nun lurking about, I wanted more protection.

“Yeah, we can have the bar-ba-que at Sparks Stadium and everyone can help us evaluate some new bodyguards,” I said nodding.

“Sure, sounds fun,” George said. George was Shannon’s boyfriend.

Shannon laughed, tossing about her fiery red hair and tickled her boyfriend. “Someone just once to fuck some pretty girls.”

“Well, there is one matter that we need to attend to,” Mary said. “Mark and I have powerful enemies and they would use our loved ones against us.”

Antsy, my little sister snorted. “Tell me about it,” she muttered. The nuns had attacked us through Antsy, trying to break up Mary and myself.

“Yes, that’s why we need to protect you with the Bond of Zimmah,” Mary finished.

The family trooped upstairs and crowded into our bedroom. There was my mom, her girlfriend Betty, and their sex slave, Joy. And Antsy and her sex slave, Via. Then Mary’s family dwarfed mine. Her dad and his sex slave. Her older sister Shannon and her boyfriend, and their sex slave, Starla. And little Missy, her boyfriend Damien, and their two sex slaves Dawn and Mrs. Corra. Mrs. Corra was Damien’s teacher before I made her Damien’s sex slave, and yet he still called her Mrs. Corra while he bossed her around.

Mary and Mom stripped naked and lay side-by-side on the bed, both beautiful. Mary was the beauty of youth, perky breasts and a fresh face. Mom was a hot MILF at forty-three. She possessed the ripened beauty of maturity, her body still tight as an eighteen year old’s from her daily exercise, her breasts still lovely and her face was sexy and confident.

I crawled onto my mom, her arms outstretched. “My boy’s all grown up,” she smiled, pulling me down into her embrace, her hands gripping my cock and guiding it to her cunt.

Next to us, Sean was crawling over his daughter’s body. “You are so beautiful, Mary,” he whispered.

“Oh, daddy!” Mary smiled, pulling him down and wrapping her legs around his waist. “Hmm, stick that hard cock inside your sweet daughter’s cunt!”

I was inside my mom’s cunt, fucking my cock in and out of her as her lips captured mine in a kiss. I roamed up her body with my hands, finding her breasts and giving them a squeeze. Her nipples were hard as I rubbed my hand over them. My mom’s hips rose up to meet my thrusts, grinding her clit into my pubic bone. She felt so amazing. This was the cunt that I came from, I thought. And that wicked thought made the sex more thrilling.

“You like my cunt, daddy?” Mary cooed. She sounded like a little girl with her father, asking him if liked her dress.

“Yeah, Mary,” he groaned as he plowed into her cunt. “You feel so tight.”

“Does it feel familiar?” Mary asked with a wicked grin. “Does it feel like the cunt that rode your cock when you were blindfolded on Monday?”

Sean groaned. “That was you? Oh, man that was amazing.”

“As amazing as this?” Mary asked. Her dad moaned loudly. I wasn’t sure what Mary did but her dad seemed to find it amazing.

The entire situation was too exciting for me to last long. Our families were watching us fuck our parents. My thrust were becoming frantic. “Oh God, Mom. You feel so good. I’m…ohhh fuck…I’m gonna cum!”

“Give it to me, Mark!” my mom moaned like a wanton hooker.

I pounded her cunt harder, my balls tightening and then I was groaning and my cum was flooding into my mom’s cunt. Her pussy contracted about my cock and she gasped as her orgasm swept over her. I collapsed atop her, enjoying the feel of her cunt as my cock soften, the warmth of her body as it pressed beneath me. I captured her lips in a kiss, then turned to watch Mary getting fucked by her father.

Mary looked over at me, a smile on her face. Her dad was grunting atop her, fucking her faster and faster. He raised up on his arms, slamming into my fiancee’s cunt and then his body tensed and he moaned as he flooded his sweet daughter’s pussy. Mary trembled beneath him, her breasts heaving as he came in her sweet pussy.

I rolled off my mom and Sean rolled off his daughter. Both women laid there, cum oozing out of their freshly fucked pussies. Mary and I agreed to bond the each other’s families. We didn’t want to make slaves of our families, just to protect them, so we told our families they could ignore our orders. It let our loved ones have their free will.

Shannon was first, crawling between my mother’s legs and taking a swipe of my mom’s pussy juices and my cum. I muttered, “Zimmah,” and felt the energy bind Shannon to me.

Antsy crawled beneath Mary’s legs and licked through my fiancee’s cunt, gathering a thick globe of incestuous cum and pussy juices. “Zimmah,” Mary intoned and I watched the shudder pass between the two women.

One by one, our family members were bonded. Betty and my mom by Mary, and Mary’s family by me. Poor Sean, he didn’t relish having to taste my cum, no matter how beautiful the cunt that contained it. And Damien just closed his eyes, took the smallest lick he could, then flew away, spitting. Then Missy followed, and then Dawn, Mrs. Corra, and Starla. Until, only George remained, and everyone turned to him.

“Shannon,” George said. “Before I really become part of this family I want to ask you a question.”

“Okay?” Shannon said, a stunned, hopeful, disbelieving smile playing on her lips, her mouth falling open and her eyes watering with emotion. I remembered that same look on Mary’s face when I proposed to her.

George fell to his knees, grasped her hand and kissed her palm. “Shannon, these last two years have been the happiest of my life. I love you, Shannon. You are my world. The kindest, sweetest soul I ever met. Will…” George’s voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” Shannon whispered, tears running out of her eyes. “Oh, yes, yes, yes!”

George pulled out a rose gold ring set with a large diamond. Smaller diamonds were sat in the band. Shannon’s hand trembled as George slid the ring on her finger. When he stood up she threw her arms around him and the pair kissed. The women in the room were all misty eyed. When George broke the kiss, he crawled between my mom’s legs and didn’t hesitate as he took his lick.

As Mary and I dressed for our appointment, we watched as an impromptu family orgy began. It all started when Missy pressed herself up against her dad, saying, “Is it my turn to get fucked?” with a huge, impish grin on her face.

“But…” Sean spluttered. Sean was under my orders to be available to fuck Mary for the Zimmah spell and was resistant to fucking his youngest daughter. But Missy was a hundred pounds of teenage enthusiasm and, with her sex slave Dawn’s help, pushed Sean back onto the bed. She straddled her dad, guiding his hard cock to her tight, teenage cunt, and started riding him, using all the technique I taught her on pleasing a man.

George and Shannon slipped out onto our private balcony and the newly engaged couple were passionately fucking on our love seat. Betty and Antsy were on the bed making out next to Sean and Missy while my mom watch fondly. Damien had his Mrs. Corra’s big tits about his cock as he watched his girlfriend, Missy, ride her dad. Via, Joy, and Starla slipped into a daisy chain on the floor, each slut devouring the other’s cunts.

I sighed as we left. “There will be other orgies,” Mary consoled, pressing up against me.

“I haven’t fucked any of their sex slaves,” I moaned. “Well, I fucked Felicity, but not the other five.”

“Plenty of time for that, Mark,” Mary chided, prodding me down the stairs. “But we have the meeting with the architects and your pilot interview. I’m sure you’ll find some pretty new lady for you to fuck.”

I grinned, Mary always found the bright side of a situation. “Well, that’s the plan.”

Before we went up to SeaTac to Alaska Airlines headquarters, we had a meeting with an architect to design our mansion. Mary had been speaking to them on the phone for the last week, hammering out the specifications, and the architects had their first conceptions ready. They did some great work, designing a large, central mansion and five, smaller guest houses for our families to live in at the back of the property. There was also a stable, Mary wanted to have horses, and a pool, and extensive landscaping. Mary gave a few brief corrections and the architects would start drawing up the plans. Hopefully, in a month, we could start breaking ground on construction.

The Alaska Airlines offices were located on International Boulevard south of the SeaTac airport. I parked the Mustang and had 01 and 09, our bodyguard’s for the trip, wait in 01’s white State Patrol car. I took Mary’s arm and my mom followed us in. The inside was well furnished, the Eskimo face logo of Alaska Airlines embossed on the lobby floor and a few potted plants dotted the corners.

“How can I help you, sir?” the receptionist, a stout, middle-aged woman named Angela, asked.

“Yes, we’re here to see Mr. Ledford,” I said. “I’m Mark Glassner.”

The receptionist called upstairs and sent us on own. “Floor four, go left from the elevator. You can’t miss his office.”

“Remember the last elevator we rode?” Mary asked with a sly smile as I pushed he fourth floor button.

“No elevator slut this time,” I laughed. That’s how we met Violet, one of our sluts. I took her virginity in the hotel elevator of the Four Seasons, I believe, up in Seattle.

My mom looked at me, a frown across her beautiful face. “What?”

“It’s nothing, Sandy,” Mary assured her. “Just an inside joke.”

“Oh, sure,” Sandy said with a nod.

The elevator dinged and we got out on the fourth floor. Monroe Ledford’s office was down a hallway, through an open area full of cubicles, against the west wall of the building. He had a mousy looking woman for a secretary with the unusual name of Richmal. “He’s expecting you, Mr. Glassner.”

“Richmal, just ignore any strange sounds you hear, okay,” Mary said with a friendly smile.

“Oh, sure, miss,” Richmal squeaked.

Monroe had a spacious office, a large mahogany desk, and a wall covered in filing cabinets. Seven women dressed in blue pilot’s jackets and slacks were huddled in the corner talking to each other and gave us curious stares when we entered. Monroe scurried out from behind his desk, a heavyset man in an expensive looking suit. His face was round, fat hanging from beneath his chins, and large, black glasses dominated his face.

“Good to meet you in person, Mr. Glassner,” Monroe greeted. “I gathered the candidates just like you asked, sir.”

“Thank you, you can wait at your secretary’s desk and don’t come in here until we leave,” I told him, shaking his moist hand.

“Ah, of course, sir,” Monroe laughed. “Well, they are all excellent pilots and you will not be disappointed with whomever you choose.”

“All right, ladies, line up,” Mary said, brusquely.

My mom, looking a little out of sorts, set down at the table. “You okay, mom,” I asked as Mary got the pilots lined up.

“It’s just…overwhelming how the two of you just take command of situation,” Mom admitted. “And you’re going to, what…screw these women?”

I shrugged. “Not all of them,” I admitted. Several of the women were just not pretty enough. Sure they were handsome women, but Mary and I had our standards. “They’ll enjoy themselves, Mom. So just relax, okay?”

She sighed. “Okay, Mark.” She squirmed in her seat. “Geezs, I’m turning into such a hussy,” she muttered, eying the women.

“Maybe, mom,” I told her, rubbing her shoulder. “But it’s a lot of fun, isn’t it?” I asked with a grin.

My mom laughed and kissed the back of my hand. “Your fiancee’s going to start without you,” Mom pointed out.

I looked up to the two handsome women walking out the door. “All right, disrobe,” Mary ordered the remaining five. “And be prepared to get fucked. You all want to please us and be chosen to be as one of our pilots.” I stepped up next to her and she whispered, “Is everything alright with your mom?”

“Yeah, Mom is just not used to all this,” I answered.

The pilots were disrobing. All of them wore the most boring underwear, I was disappointed to learn. We sent two more packing; one had an ugly Caesarean scar and the other’s ass was covered in cellulite and looked as wrinkled as a prune. The remaining three were gorgeous women in their late twenties and early thirties.

Joslyn was a black-haired woman, willowy, with dark, Mediterranean complexion and brilliant green eyes. She had a nice set of round breasts topped with dusky nipples. Her belly buttoned was pierced with a small, golden charm set with a ruby and her pussy was shaved, revealing fat, dark pussy lips.

Duana was another black-haired woman, tall with Nordic cheekbones. Her breasts were small and perky and she had a thick, black bush between her legs. Her legs were toned and tanned from sunbathing, there were patches of pale flesh around her breasts and her crotch from her bikini.

Lynda was a strawberry-blonde with deep, blue eyes. She was short and curvy, with large, pillowy breasts with some of the biggest, fattest nipples I had ever seen, each pierced with a thick, gold ring. Her pussy was shaved, save for a triangular patch of reddish hair above her clit.

I walked over and hefted Lynda’s large breast, feeling the weight and gave her nipple piercing a tug bring a soft gasp to Lynda’s mouth. Mary was running her fingers through Duana’s thick bush, the tall woman shuddering as Mary must have found her clit or maybe her wet hole. Joslyn was looking a little lonely and so was my mom, so I pulled her to me and whispered in her ear.

Joslyn swayed back to my mom. Mom swallowed, licking her lips as the dusky beauty reached her and sat on her lap. “I…I have a girlfriend,” my mom protested, as Joslyn kissed at her throat.

“It’s just sex, Mom,” I said, pushing Lynda down to her knees. “I have a girlfriend, too.”

Mary giggled as Duana was unbuttoning her blouse, exposing Mary’s freckled breasts. The tall pilot sucked Mary’s nipple into her lips. “Betty knows you love her, that’s all that matters, Sandy. Everything else is just fun.”

My zipper rasped down and eager hands reached into my pants, pushing down my boxers, to find my hardening cock. Mom relaxed and was kissing Joslyn, her hands sliding up to cup the dusky woman’s breast and rolling her dark nipples between her fingers while Joslyn purred in pleasure. Lynda’s mouth engulfed my cock, sucking my dick until I was fully hard in her mouth. I looked down at her pillowy tits and just had to feel those about my cock.

I pulled my cock from her mouth, grabbed the fat ring pierced through her left nipple and pulled Lynda to her feet and led her over to a chair and set down. “You ever given a guy a titty fuck?” I asked her.

She smiled wickedly. “A few.”

Lynda knelt down and placed her pillowy tits around my cock, squeezing them about my shaft and started to slide them up and down. Her gold rings piercing her nipples swung up and down, glinting in a shaft of sunlight that fell across her tits. Her blue eyes stared up at me, eager to please, and her strawberry-blonde hair fell loosely about her shoulders, a splash of color against her pale skin.

Mary sat in the sit next to me, spreading her legs and cooing in pleasure as Duana dove into her cunt, licking stiffly at her pussy. “C’mon, slut, you can do better,” Mary complained. “Your a woman, just lick and touch me wherever you’d like to be touched down there.”

“Okay,” Duana murmured and spread Mary’s lips open and licked her tongue through Mary’s slit, sliding her tongue into Mary’s wet pussy. She swirled her tongue around the sucked Mary’s labia into her mouth, rolling the wrinkled lips between her lips as Mary moaned in appreciation.

“Getting better,” Mary encourage, then sighed in pleasure. “Definitely getting better.”

I glanced back to see my mom was sitting on the desk, her jeans pulled off, her firm ass flexing as she squirmed in pleasure. I guessed Joslyn must be going down on her. My mom pulled her loose, striped shirt over her head exposing her smooth back and white bra. She reached behind her and unclasped the bra. As the white material fell away, I could just see the slope of her right breast and the hint of her pink nipple.

“Ohh, that feels nice,” Mom moaned on Joslyn’s tongue. Her arms moved and I realized mom was playing with her breasts.

“How’s your titty fuck?” Mary asked with a smile.

“Nice,” I told her. Lynda’s tits felt amazing on my cock as she formed a tight tunnel between her soft tits. I started fucking my hips up, rubbing my cock faster through the valley of her breasts. Mary’s eyes were fixed on my cock, the head would appear up from between her tits then disappear back down. Pre-cum glistening on the tip, smearing on Lynda’s melons.

“Is Duana giving you good head?” I asked.

Mary rolled her eyes. “She’s getting better! She…ohhh, yeah. She’s definitely getting better,” Mary purred.

“Oh, man!” gasped Mom. “Oh, Mark, her tongue feels so amazing. I can’t wait to try some of what she’s doing to my pussy on Betty when I get home! Oh, wow! Mmmhh, oh crap! Yes, yes, oh yes!”

Lynda started licking my cock head when it got close to her lips, her tongue roughly sliding across the tip sending a shudder of pleasure through my body. Another lick, another shudder, and then my cock was back in the pillowy softness of her breasts and then was back out and another delicious lick, another delicious shudder. “Fuck that’s amazing!” I gasped. “Keep licking, slut!”

Lynda giggled. “Glad you…” lick, “…like it!”

Mary was panting next to me, grinding her cunt into Duana’s face. “Oh yes, fucking suck my clit, whore! Oh, fuck! Oh fucking shit! Here it comes, slut! Drink my cum!”

My mom sat in the chair on the other side of me, naked and flushed. Her eyes focused on my cock appearing and disappearing between Lynda’s breasts. I was getting closer and closer to cumming. My balls were so close to flooding Lynda’s breasts with my creamy spunk. Just a few more licks and…I groaned, my face clenched as I spilled onto her tits.

“Fuck, that was nice!” I moaned.

Lynda was panting, to, white cum coating her face and tits. She released her breasts and my cock slid out of her tight embrace. Mary knelt down and licked a line of my cum up Lynda’s tit. Then she looked at my mom, hefted Lynda’s other, cum covered tit invitingly. My mom licked her lips and then knelt down and licked my cum up Lynda’s breast, up to her neck and then she was kissing Lynda on the lips.

My cock was achingly hard watching my mom and my fiancee lick my cum off this woman. They were pressing her down onto her back, their tongues devouring my cum. Mary licked her way up to Lynda’s face as Mom licked back down to her breasts, sucking a fat nipple and gold ring into her mouth as Mary kissed Lynda on the lips. Then Mary was straddling her face as Mom licked lower and lower, down to Lynda’s shaved cunt.

“Duana, lick my mom’s cunt,” I ordered and then I grabbed willowy Joslyn and bent her over the desk.

Joslyn’s cunt was shaved bare, her labia large and engorged and felt amazing as I rubbed the head of my cock on them before I found her hot, wet hole and slid inside her, groaning as her velvet cunt swallowed my cock.

“Ohh, that feels great,” Joslyn moaned. “Umm, you got a nice feeling cock, stud.”

“You got a nice feeling cunt,” I moaned, pulling back and thrusting in again and again. “Fucking wet and tight, just the way I like my pussy!”

“Then give me a good fucking, lover!” Joslyn purred. “I could use a nice cum! Haven’t had one yet, today!”

“You have to cum everyday, slut?” I asked.

“If not, then the day was wasted.” I liked her philosophy. If I haven’t came a dozen times in a day, it was definitely wasted. “I need a nice, fat cock to stretch my poor little pussy until I explode!” she panted.

I started thrusting faster and faster, enjoying her wet depths. I glanced behind me, Mary was riding Lynda’s face and my mom was devouring Lynda’s cunt. Duana knelt behind my mom and started fingering her cunt. Duana bent her head down, planting her face between my mom’s ass cheeks and began to rim Mom’s ass. What a naughty slut.

“I’m going to pee in your mouth, and you’re going to love it, right slut?” Mary asked.

“Oh yes,” moaned Lynda. “I’ve masturbated so many times to water sports vids! Fill my mouth with your delicious pee.”

Mary sighed as her urine splashed into Lynda’s mouth, the pilot drinking her piss eagerly. I slammed into Joslyn’s cunt faster and faster as I watched my fiancee piss into another woman’s mouth. When Mary finished pissing, she moaned as Lynda licked her pussy clean, her tongue digging through Mary’s slit. Lynda was moaning beneath Mary, her body writhing and fresh cunt juices flooded my mom’s mouth as she came.

My mom drank all of Lynda’s juices and then shuddered on Duana’s tongue. “Yes, oh yes, I’m cumming! Umm, that feels so amazing!” Mom turned around, stroking Duana’s face. “Oh, thank you for that amazing orgasm.”

I came in Joslyn’s cunt as I watched my mom french kiss Duana, her face sticky with Lynda’s juices. Mary’s ass jiggled beneath her bunched up skirt as she ground her pussy on Lynda’s face, her unbuttoned blouse slid off her right shoulder, exposing her pale, freckled shoulder. Her auburn hair, tied in a ponytail, swayed about as she tossed her head about, her moans of pleasure growing louder and louder.

My mom’s ass was pointing at me, as tight as any teenagers, her hairy bush matted with desire, her pussy pink and swollen with pleasure. I knelt behind her, running my hands about her firm cheeks. Mom broke her kiss with Duana and glanced over her shoulder at me, her eyes falling onto my hard cock.

“You’re so beautiful, Mom,” I murmured.

“Prettier than your fiancee?” my mom asked with a grin.

“A close second, Mom.” My cock was poking at her tight ass, sliding down, leaving a streak of pre-cum across her firm cheeks and down through her silky hair. I found her hot, wet hole, rubbing my cock’s head on her swollen labia, enjoying the feel of her silky nether lips.

“Umm, good answer, son,” Mom groaned as my cock entered her slowly.

“He’s the best!” moaned Mary. “Umm, this slut sure knows her way around a snatch! You keep doing that and…ohhh that’s nice! Fuck, fuck, yes! That’s it! Oh, God, I’m cumming! You nasty, fucking slut! Ohh, that was nice.”

“Thank you for fulfilling my fantasy,” moaned Lynda as Mary crawled off of her.

Mary pressed her body against my back, hugging me from behind as I fucked my mother. Her breasts were soft pillows topped with her hard nipples, her silky bush tickled my ass. Her arms wrapped around my waist and her lips were wet on my neck.

“Who are you thinking of keeping for our pilots?” she whispered into my ear.

“Lynda for sure,” I moaned. “Those fucking nipple rings.”

Mary laughed. “I love a slut that drinks my piss.”

“Joslyn is the prettiest,” my mom moaned, thrusting her hips back into my cock. With Mary pressed behind me, I couldn’t fuck Mom as hard I liked, but goddamn my mom knew how to work her hips to get a man off.

Joslyn was beautiful, with her dusky, Mediterranean skin her brilliant green eyes. “She was a great fuck,” I pointed out.

Mary nipped at my ear. “Joslyn and Lynda then.”

“Yeah,” I panted. “Mmh, Mom, you know how to fuck!”

Mom laughed, a rich throaty laugh, slamming her ass back into me. “You’re not to bad yourself. Umm, my baby boy grew up to have a nice cock!”

“Cum in your slutty mom’s pussy,” Mary whispered into my ear. “Fill her up with delicious spunk.”

“Give me your cum, Mark!” Mom moaned. “Fill your mommy’s womb with your sperm. It’s so wonderful to have you back inside me! Oh, crap! Crap!”

My balls were tightening, my orgasm was building. I felt Mom’s cunt spasm on my cock as she came, slamming her ass back into me and I groaned, “Fuck, that feels so amazing, Mom! Oh, fuck! Here it fucking cums!” My balls unloaded, flooding the very pussy that made me with a flood of cum. Mom slumped forward, rolling onto her back, her legs spread obscenely open, my cum oozing out and matting her brown fur.

“Joslyn and Lynda, you’re going to be our pilots,” I ordered. “You’ll live at the hanger, stay within fifteen minutes of the plane at all times. You will love Mary and myself as your masters, and love each other. Duana, never speak of this to anyone, you can get dressed and go.”

Joslyn moved over to Lynda and stroked her face. “I never noticed how beautiful you are,” she whispered and kissed Lynda with passion.

“Ladies,” I barked, interrupting their kiss, “get over her and take a lick from my mom’s cunt.” Lynda was first, bending down and taking a single lick as I uttered, “Zimmah,” and felt the energy run from my mom into Lynda and myself, binding Lynda’s to me permanently. Lynda stared at me in awe as Joslyn took her place and took her lick and was bound to me.

“You two, go home gather your stuff and head to Thun Field, hanger 18,” I told her and pulled a pair of keys out of my pocket, tossing it to them. “The Gulfstream has already arrived. From now on, you’ll live in the plane. There’s a comfy bed for the two of you too enjoy, internet, satellite TV. Just remember, always be within fifteen minutes of the plane.”

“Yes, Master,” Lynda nodded and then gave Joslyn a wicked smile. “A bed to share, huh? I’m sure we can find some stimulating way to pass the time.”

My phone rang and I fished it out of my pocket, glancing at the caller ID. “You found Brandon?” I asked.

“I found out where he went,” Doug Allard answered. Doug was a P.I. hired by Brandon Fitzsimmons to spy on us, causing all sorts of problems when Brandon sent the media the results of his spying. We caught Doug and turned him to our side and sent him after Brandon. “He flew from San Francisco to London and from there he caught a plane to Toulouse, France. He landed in Frances about two hours ago.”

“What’s in France?” I asked aloud, frowning.

“The book,” Mary grasped. “One of the books is in France.”

My stomach sank. Who knew what sort of problems Brandon having the book would cause. “Doug, Brandon’s headed for Rennes-le-Château, the Motherhouse of an order of nuns. The Order of Mary Magdalena. You must stop him from getting a book, the Magicks of the Witch of Endor. Do whatever it takes to stop him.”

“Okay, Mr. Glassner.”

I wanted to go after Brandon myself. But he was going into the heart of the lion’s den, the Motherhouse of the Nuns. Who knew how many of those bitches would be there. It was far too dangerous for either Mary or myself to go anywhere near Rennes-le-Château.

“Mary, where was that third book at?”

“Um, with some noble. An Altgrave, I think he was called.” She grabbed her phone. “In Cologne, Germany.”

“I need to speak with him, make sure he understands not to let Brandon so much as see that book.”

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

“Hey, Kaeden,” Illness, the barkeep at the Lucky Cowgirl greeted me as I sidled up to the bar.

Illness wasn’t the name he was born with, just the name everyone called him. “Because I’m so Ill, man, you know, cool,” he would say in his gravely, burnt-out voice, sounding like an aging rocker who partied to hard in his twenties and lived to regret it.

“A pint of Sam Adams,” I said, sighing as I sat down on the barstool.

“You one of the…” He left the end of his question hanging. The empty look in my eyes answered his question. “Rough, man. Real rough.” He finished filling the pint and set it down in front of me. “So, did it really happen?”

I shrugged. My PBA rep told me not to talk about it. Fuck, I’m not even sure what really happened. One minute, I was storming this Mark Glassner house on loan to the FBI, and the next thing I knew Mark Glassner was leading me and rest of my SWAT unit out of the house. And then this fine-ass girl, naked, with bubble-gum pink hair and this voluptuous Latina were leading me upstairs and fucked my brain out.

And now I was probably out of a job. And maybe facing prison time. Accepting sexual favors as a bribe, Internal Affairs called it. So here I was, back at the Lucky Cowgirl, to drown my sorrows. I hadn’t been in for two weeks and I was hoping to get lucky like the last time I was here, to maybe take my mind off my problems with some female companionship. Hell, maybe that gal would be back.

Nearly two weeks ago, on a Friday, this vivacious blonde name Erin had waltzed in, flirting outrageously with me and a few of my drinking buddies. We were drawn to her, she was just so fucking sexy in her tight jeans and revealing top. And she just ate our attention, touching us, laughing at our bad jokes. I grew more and more bold and soon it was just me and her at the bar and she let my hands roam everywhere. When I whispered in her ear that I wanted to fuck her brains out. She laughed and suggested the bathroom. I gave her a good fucking all while this creep listened to us from the next stall.

And then she asked me to go get some drinks and I waited at the bar while she cleaned herself up. And waited, figuring she had to reapply her make-up. You know women. When she did emerge, she was with this other guy, her arm wrapped around him, clinging tightly to him. They clearly knew each other, her boyfriend maybe and I just stood at the bar like an idiot realizing that the guy must have been the creep in the next stall. They were like playing at cheating or something. It was straight out of letters to Penthouse.

After the day I had, I wouldn’t mind banging Erin again. Her guy could watch for all I cared. I just needed something nice to happen to me, today. I just needed something pleasant to help me forget what a shithole my life just became. All the hard work, all the sacrifices to become a SWAT officer. It cost me my marriage to Sally and a few girlfriends since. All of it flushed down the shitter and I couldn’t even begin to understand why any of us did it.

“Why so down, handsome?” a tall, African American woman asked, sitting on the barstool next to me. Her accent was strange, like she was an actual African, from Nigeria or something. She was beautiful, young, with coal-black skin and short, curly hair. Her lips were big and smiling beautifully.

I snorted. “I’m in a lot of trouble.”

“Oh, how sad,” she consoled, placing her hand on my arm, stroking me gently. “Maybe I could make it all better.”

“Oh, how?” I asked, eying her up and down. She was fucking gorgeous.

She smiled promisingly. “What are you drinking?”

“Sam Adams.”

“Buy me one, and we’ll see if I can’t make you forget all about your problems,” she promised, her fingers running up my arm to my biceps. “Mmhh, you work out. I love a man with big muscles.”

“I’m a SWAT officer,” I told her. Some women got off on banging cops, badge bunnies we called them. And the way this woman’s eyes lit up, she was definitely a badge bunny.

“How exciting,” she purred. Illness set a pint before her and she took a deep gulp. “It must be very stressful, all that danger.”

“Oh, very stressful,” I said with a shrug. “But, I live for the danger.” I used that BS on so many ladies, they lapped it up.

Her laugh was throaty and exciting. “And how do you relieve all that stress. I bet it just gets bottled up inside you, begging to be released.”

“Oh, I could think of a few ways to relive the pressure,” I smiled.

“Your hand, non?” she asked archly.

I laughed, it felt good to laugh. “Sure, but there are definitely more pleasant ways to relieve the pressure.” I took a drink of my beer. “Of course, they require someone’s assistance.”

She sipped her beer, her pink tongue licking foam off her upper lip. “I have been told I am very skilled at relieving stress.”

My cock was rock hard in my pants. God, I loved this bar. I had never met a girl as easy as Erin, but this African chick was giving that slut Erin a run for her money. Well, it worked last time, so I leaned over and whispered, “I want to fuck your brains out. Right now.”

She stood up, her smile eager, and took my hand. She was aggressive as she pulled me across the bar to the men’s room and pulled me inside. She took me to the last stall. Memories of Erin bent over the toilet as I fucked her from behind flashed in my mind. Would this mysterious Black woman’s cunt feel as good as Erin’s had.

Christ I didn’t even know her name.

But that didn’t matter as she kissed me as soon as we were in the stall, my hands reaching down and knead her ass through her short skirt. I lifted the skirt up and she wasn’t wearing any panties, the naughty little slut. Her tongue was fierce as she frenched me, aggressively exploring my mouth as her hands fumbled at my belt. She pulled my cock out, stroked it a few times then broke the kiss. I was panting hard as she pulled her dress over her head, exposing her lithe, coal-black body. She took her fingers, slid them between her black breasts, down to her black bush and shoved them up inside her, coating them with her juices.

“See how wet I am for you,” she moaned. “Fuck me!”

I didn’t need to be told twice and I pinned her against the side of the stall, her legs wrapping about my waist as I plunged into her Black pussy. She moaned as I fucked her hard, pounding away at her cunt. I needed this. I needed to forget my problems. All that mattered right now was how amazing her cunt felt on my cock as I fucked her tight, wet depths.

“Fuck your tight, slut,” I moaned. Any girl as easy as her, badge bunny or not, was a slut. “Love how you feel on me.”

“Umm, your cock is stirring me up,” she moaned. “Umm, spear me, stud! Ohh, I love having a nice shaft spearing inside me!”

Her hips were fucking me back, matching the furious rhythm. I needed to cum so bad. I didn’t care if she came, I just needed to feel that sweet release as I spilled inside her. She was so tight, my cock felt like it was in a vice, trying to squeeze out my cum. I was getting closer and closer to cumming inside her.

“Yes, yes, oh God I’m gonna cum!” I moaned. Her legs were wrapped so tightly about me I couldn’t pull out if I wanted to. I slammed once more into her and felt that shuddering release as my cum spilled into her.

Her finger was on my forehead, drawing with her sticky finger as she whispered, “Shama,” into my ear and everything went still. I stared blankly at the woman and she smiled in satisfaction. All that mattered to me was doing exactly what this woman told me too.

“Good,” she muttered, pushing me back, my cock pulling out of her. “I am Sister Agnes.” I nodded my head as she gave me my instructions.

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

The Drunken Pugilist may be the emptiest bar I had ever seen at happy hour. One old man sipped a pint at the bar while a board barkeep was watching the Mariners play the Angels. A fond smile crossed my face as I remembered Sean, my ex-husband, getting so excited during their ’95 season and how crushed he had been when the Mariners lost to the Indians and ended the Mariners World Series hopes. Mary was only one, then, and Missy wasn’t even a thought, yet.

Focus, Theodora, I told myself. Kurt stole your family from you, no use dwelling on that, now. You need to stop this Mark from destroying other families.

Sister Isabella followed me in. We let Providence guide us. Each of us opened the phone book, to the listing of bars, figuring guys as in trouble as these SWAT officer were would be drowning their sorrows. So we closed our eyes and jabbed our fingers down on the page. Isabella and I both got the Drunken Pugilist and Sister Agnes chose the Lucky Cowgirl.

I scanned the bar, the only other people were the two men sitting at a booth in the back, almost hidden in the shadows. I could see their auras, blacker than the shadows, the aura of a Thrall enslaved by a Warlock. It was clear that Mark had given the men an order that must have rewritten parts of their personality. Well, they were cops and I could imagine the sort of orders Mark must have given. “Let me commit crimes,” he probably ordered, or, “I can’t do anything wrong.”

Both guys looked miserable as we approached, a pitcher of beer sat between them and a few empty shot glasses. Both were fit, broad shoulder man. A swarthy Mexican with a thick mustache that ruined an otherwise handsome face, and a squashed-face white guy with a crew cut.

“Hi, boys,” Isabella purred with her sexy, Latina accent.

The Mexican’s eyes lit up when he saw us. “Hello, ladies,” he said with a smile, and motioned to the booth. “Care to cheer up a pair of cops having a bad day?”

“Christ, Riz, do you have to flirt with every chick?” the White guy asked.

“Hey man, why should I deprive my charm from any beautiful woman,” Riz protested. “Ignore him, he’s married and forgotten how to treat such heavenly creatures as yourselves.”

“Riz?” I asked, and then Isabella sat down next to him, leaving me with the White guy.

“Because his real name is pretty stupid,” the White guy said and a grin momentarily crossed his lips before his pain returned.

“Oroitz is a perfectly manly name,” Riz joked. “Besides, what kind of name is Duncan?”

“A Highlander,” I said with a smile. Everyone gave me a blank look. “Um, you know, ‘There can be only one.’ The Highlander?”

“Yeah,” Duncan muttered and took a swill of his beer. “The TV show, right. Not the movie.”

“Yeah,” I nodded.

“So, what has you guys so down?” Isabella asked. “Women, right?” Both men grunted and Isabella smiled wickedly, leaning closer to Riz, reaching out to place her hand on his. “I hope not the same woman.”

“No, chiquita, not the same woman,” Riz admitted. “We’re both in the doghouse because of work. My girl broke up with me and Duncan’s wife kicked him out.”

“Oh that’s terrible,” I cooed, scooting up against Duncan. His eyes glanced at my cleavage and then a guilty flush suffused his face.

Across the table, Isabella was snuggling up to Riz, who put his arm around her. “Yeah, it’s terrible. Me and Alicia had been dating for weeks.”

“Well, maybe I can make you feel better,” Isabella said with a naughty smile. From how her arm was moving, she must be rubbing Riz’s leg. Or maybe even his crotch based on that the big grin filling Riz’s face. And then the two were talking in rapid Spanish. In my few weeks living in LA I picked up a smattering of Spanish, but I could not begin to follow their conversation.

Duncan just set like a log next to me, staring down into his beer. “What’s the problem,” I purred. “You might feel better if you tell me about it.”

A look of self-loathing crossed his face. “Sure,” he bitterly snorted, his voice a little slurred with drink. “Why the fuck not.” He down the rest of his beer. “You heard about the whole SWAT scandal?”

I nodded my head. That is why Providence led me to you. Mark had foolishly made a bunch of highly skilled men his Thralls and didn’t bother to protect them. “There are subtle signs,” Ramiel told me in my dreams, “to tell if the Bond of Zimmah chains a Thrall to the Warlock. The black aura will have the tiniest, barely perceptible, fringe of red about it. So minute, you have to know to look for it.” As far as I could tell, neither of these men were bound to Mark.

“Yeah, instead of arresting the people, the SWAT unit…eh…” I trailed off, not sure how to finish the sentence without sounding insensitive.

“Fucked them,” Duncan finished, biting his words.

“Excuse me, Vato,” Riz said as Isabella scooted out of the booth. “You understand, right?”

“Yeah,” Duncan grunted, staring at his drink as Riz and Isabella disappeared out a back door into the alley behind the bar. A ragged sob suddenly escaped Duncan’s lips. “I don’t know what happened. We burst into this bedroom and this naked guy, Mark, falls on the floor and he just tells us to stop pointing our guns and help him up. And we did. And then…this red-head just grabs me and Driscoll and takes us inside and has us fuck her. She treated us like shit, insulted us, and we just took it. And now it’s all over the news and…” He took a swig of beer. “Kathanne kicked me out. I never cheated on her, before. I don’t know what happened.”

Poor bastard. Another Warlock’s victim. I reached out and rubbed his leg and kissed him on the cheek. “You poor guy,” I murmured. “Let me take some of that hurt away.” I slid my hand up his jeans to his crotch, feeling his cock grow beneath my touch.

“Wh-what are you doing?” he suddenly protested. “I…”

I cut him off with a kiss as my fingers slid his zipper down, his mouth sour with beer. He was hard, despite his protests, and I stroked him to his full girth. His cock was warm and trembled with his heart beat against my palm. He was uncircumcised, and I could feel the head of his cock slide in and out of his foreskin, popping out like a cute little snake.

“Shh, don’t fight, Duncan,” I whispered as I lowered my head down to his crotch, disappearing beneath the booth’s table.

He moaned as my tongue licked around the head of his cock, salty with his pre-cum. I played with the tip, tracing about the edge of the gland, then sliding up and licking through his urethra, collecting a fresh drop of pre-cum. I slid a hand down between my legs and up into my cunt, getting my fingers sticky with my pussy juices so I would be ready to draw the Mark of Qayin on his forehead.

His hand caressed my head, fingers pulling through my brown hair. “Oh fuck,” he moaned. “Sorry, Kathy.”

I cupped his balls as I swallowed his cock, sucking softly and playing with the sensitive head with my tongue. Then I slid down, slowly, until he brushed the back of my throat. I sealed my lips tight about his shaft as I rose up, sucking harder and Duncan moaned in appreciation. Up and down, my mouth filled with his cock.

“Jesus,” he moaned. “Fuck, you’re good. Christ, I don’t even know your name.”

I popped his cock out of my mouth. “Theodora,” I panted, sucking in air, and then I was back on his cock, bobbing my head faster and faster as I played with his balls.

He nuts were round and I gently squeezed them, trying to massage his cum out of his balls. He was getting closer and closer to cumming. I could feel the tension in his body grow and grow as he neared that explosive release and I tensed, ready to spring the moment his cum poured into my mouth. Up and down, I bobbed, swirling my tongue and sucking, feeling his cock tremble in my mouth, the spongy head brushing the roof of my mouth.

Duncan was a gentleman and warned me. “I’m gonna cum, Theodora,” he panted.

The first splash of cum was warm and salty in my lips. I released his cock as the second blast just flew up in air and landed on my blouse, a line of sticky fluids staining my clothing. I was drawing the Mark of Qayin on his forhead as his third blast flew up and splashed on his flannel shirt and I muttered, “Shama.” The Mark of Qayin blazed white and Duncan went blank as the prayer took effect.

Isabella should have had no problem enchanting Riz and I began to tell Duncan the plan. He nodded his head as he absorbed my orders. Worry gnawed at my stomach. Was this really necessary. These men were SWAT officers, highly trained at what they do. People were going to get hurt. People I was supposed to protect. I always thought the Order of Mary Magdalene existed to help people.

“The Greater Good,” Ramiel’s voice whispered back to me. “Not even the Promise Land was taken without bloodshed.”

The Greater Good. It was all for the Greater Good, I told myself. But another voice whispered from deep inside me, the road to Hell is paved in good intentions. I shivered. I just needed to have faith in Providence.

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

“You taxi is here, Monsieur Fitzsimmons,” the Concierge of the Chambres D’Hôtes L’Escalette, the hotel I was staying at in Toulouse. I was impatient to get to the Motherhouse and get my hands on the Magicks of the Witch of Endor. I needed the book to defeat Mark and rescue my wife from his clutches.

It had been a long flight when I landed Toulouse with a five hour layover in London, I had been traveling for nearly seventeen hours and I was exhausted. When I check into the hotel I crashed, and just woke up twenty minutes ago, noon, local time. Which was four AM, Friday morning, back in Washington State.

“Merci,” I nodded to the Concierge and slipped him a five euro.

He held the door open for me and I stepped into the white taxi. It was a small, European car, one of those tiny vehicles designed for the narrow, medieval streets that crowded European cities and towns. It was a little more than an hours drive to Rennes-le-Château, a quaint village built upon a hilltop, connected by a winding road and the driver, a dusky North African, talked in Arabic on his bluetooth the entire drive.

Finally, we reached the Motherhouse. The building was located behind the Church of Mary Magdalene, an old, stone edifice that was partially overgrown with green vines. The front door was a large, made of wood and bound in iron. On the door frame hung a plaque written in French, English, Spanish, and German described the history of the building. Another sign, handwritten in French, was taped to the front of the door. My French was very rusty, but it seemed to be the phone number of the caretaker who was out.

Sighing in frustration, I pulled out my phone and dialed the number. “Bonjour, Maryām à l’appareil. Je vous écoute,” a woman answered in rapid French.

“Do you speak English?” I asked, hopefully. My high school French was far to rusty to converse with someone.

“Yes, I am Maryām,” the woman answered in a heavy accent.

“Hi, I’m Brandon Fitzsimmons and I was hoping I could meet with someone at the Motherhouse. There is a book in your collection that I’m just dying to examine.”

The voice on the other end thought for a moment. “Very well, Monsieur Fitzsimmons. Tomorrow at, say, 4 o’clock.”

“It’s very important, can we possibly meet sooner?” I asked.

“No, no. I am not in Rennes-le-Château,” she answered, in the background I heard something in French being broadcast. I frowned, it sounded like an airport announcement. “Saturday, 4 o’clock is the earliest I can meet.”

I sighed, another hours drive to Toulouse and then an hours drive back here tomorrow. “Very well. Thank you for your time, miss.”

“Until Saturday, then. Au revoir.” The line went dead.

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

“The captain has put on the fasten seatbelt sign,” the flight attendant announced in her British accent.

I was on British Airways flight 3471 descending into Toulouse Blagnac Airport in France on the hunt for Brandon Fitzsimmons.

Thirteen hours ago I took off at SeaTac and I was exhausted. But I couldn’t sleep. Every time I tried, Mark Glassner’s words came back to me. “Doug, Brandon’s headed for Rennes-le-Château, the Motherhouse of an order of nuns. The Order of Mary Magdalena. You must stop him from getting a book, the Magicks of the Witch of Endor. Do whatever it takes to stop him.”

Do whatever it takes to stop him. What did Mark mean. Did he want me to steal the book before Brandon could get it, delay him, stop him? Or did he want me to kill him? Could I kill him? I was a P.I. not a hitman. But the more I poured over Mark’s words, the more I came to believe I had to kill him. It’s clearly what Mark wanted. Do whatever it takes to stop him. What else could that mean? I had watched enough spy movies to understand what was implied. I was scared. I had never killed anyone. Twelve years as a cop and I never fired my gun in the line of duty. But Mark needed it done, and I would make sure it happened.

Fuck, I was so tired when I got off the plane, I could barely fill out the declaration card as I waited to clear customs. And then I stumbled out of customs as a somnambulist creature, barely capable of rational thought. I needed some coffee, badly as I reached baggage claim. I almost walked off with someone else’s suitcase, luckily the owner stopped me. “Too many people with black suitcases these days,” I grumbled as way of an apology.

My suitcase in hand, or I thought it was mine, anyways, I stumbled out to the cab stand. Just my luck, there were no cabs. It was the middle of the afternoon, you’d think there would be one cab. A phone rang and I glanced over to see a beautiful young woman, olive skin and long, black hair. She spoke rapidly in French and then switched to heavily accented English. “Yes, I am Maryām.”

As tired as I was, I found myself drinking in the beauty of the young woman. The woman was listening to whomever she was speaking with and then paused and gave me a considering look. I almost wondered why she was staring, but I was too tired. “Very well, Monsieur Fitzsimmons. Tomorrow at, say, 4 o’clock.”

I blinked, did she say Fitzsimmons? What a small world. I was here to kill a Brandon Fitzsimmons.

“No, no. I am not in …” the woman’s words were drowned out by an announcement over the airport’s speakers in french. “…is the earliest I can meet,” she finished. Pausing to listen and then, “Until tomorrow, then. Au revoir.” She hung up the phone and slipped it into her pocket, muttering something in French.

A taxi pulled up, finally. I wanted to take it, but some weird sense of male chauvinism rose up inside me and I offered to let the lady take this cab. What the hell, she was pretty. And I’m sure another cab would pull up soon.

“Merci,” she replied and then asked, “maybe we can share, no?”

“Sure,” I said with a shrug.

“I am called Maryām,” she said with a smile, holding out her slim hand.

“Eh, Doug Allard,” I answered, clasping her warm hand and shaking briefly.

“American, no?” and I nodded. “How nice, I’ve always had a soft spot for you Americans.”

She slid into the cab and I followed her. “I always thought the French hated us.”

“Oh, some do,” Maryām laughed. “They are just jealous. Where are you heading, Doug.”

“Eh, Rennes-le-Château,” I answered. “Any hotel there will do.”

She smiled. “What a coincidence. I live in Rennes-le-Château.” When she said the name, it sound so musical and beautiful, not like my mangled pronunciation.

I fell asleep almost immediately and when I woke up the car was winding its way up a hill to a village perched at the crest. I sat up, rubbing my eyes as the cab weaved its way through the narrow streets past ancient stone buildings to the front of a large stone structure.

“Is this a hotel?” I asked, frowning.

“No,” Maryām replied, sliding out. “It is where I live. Come inside, I have a spare room you can use.”

Fuck, I was too tired to argue and she seemed harmless. I mean, I easily weighed twice as much as her. The door was wood, bound with iron and there was a several signs that I was too tired to read. Maryām produced a cast iron skeleton key and unlocked the door and led me inside. She led me through the foyer into a short hallway lined with narrow doors. She opened one, revealing a tiny room, little more than a square with a cot.

I turned to thank her and blinked in shock. Was I dreaming? I pinched my arm. No, that hurt.

Maryām was naked, her lithe, dusky body gorgeous. Her breasts perky with youth, topped with dark nipples. A mat of thick pubic hair covered her pussy and the smile on her face was both virginal and predatory. My cock hardened in my pants as I drank in her beauty. She walked towards me, her breasts swaying and pressed up against me, her lips hot and wet on mine.

My wife’s face floated up in my mind and I pulled away from the kiss. “Maryām what are you doing?”

Her hand slid into my pants and found my hard cock, stroking it in her hands and suddenly it didn’t matter that I was married. Tina would never know. She was all the way back in Tacoma. How would she know what I did in France. Maryām pushed me back and I sat down on the bed. She bent down, pulled off my jeans and then my boxers, exposing my hard cock.

“So nice,” she whispered.

She slid her finger down her taut body, through the forest of pubic hair and then slid them up inside her pussy. When she pulled them out they were sticky with her juices. She straddled my waist and rubbed her fingers on my forehead, then down the side of my face and to my mouth. She tasted of honey.

Maryām rose up, her hand on my cock and guided my shaft to her pussy. She was wet and felt like silk as her cunt sank down onto my cock. I groaned in pleasure, after two kids, Tina wasn’t this tight. I sank back onto the bed and watched this gorgeous angel ride slowly up and down on my cock, her round breasts heaving as she fucked me. I reached up, sliding my hand up her smooth side to cup the soft orb. I squeezed it, delighting in the spongy feel and then I ran my fingers across her hard nipple.

“Umm, you feel so hard inside me,” she purred as she rode me.

I groaned, her cunt was so tight. God, I hadn’t had a cunt this tight since I was in college. Nothing felt better than the tight cunt of a teenager on your dick. Her pussy gripped my cock like a tight glove, rubbing silkily up and down as she fucked me. My balls were boiling, the pressure growing inside me. Growing larger and stronger.

“I’m gonna cum!” I moaned. “Let me pull out!”

“No, cum in me,” she gasped. “Let me feel your lust shoot inside me! Oh, yes!”

She spasmed on me, her cunt deliciously contracting about my cock. I was thrusting my hips up into her, the sensation on my cock was getting to much to handle. My balls couldn’t take it anymore and my cum exploded out through my dick and up into her wet cunt.

“Shalak!” she screamed and I feel something inside me snap, a chain about my soul, binding my will to another. I felt freedom, and tears brimmed in my eyes as my soul sang in joy.

“Wh-what just happened?” I stammered as she slid off me.

Maryām was suddenly shy, covering her body with the blanket. “You were a Thrall, Doug,” she answered. “I have freed you from the Warlock’s power.”

And then she explained it all to me. Nuns, Warlocks, summoning demons. Everything I saw watching Mark Glassner, how everyone around him behaves. How I so easily agreed to do whatever he told me, including killing a man. It all finally made sense. Mark Glassner sold his soul for power and made me his pawn.

“God has a purpose for you, Doug,” Maryām said as I wept before her.

I could feel it in my soul. I had been touched by God when she freed me. “What?” I asked. It didn’t matter what the purpose was. When God calls, how can you say no.

The door opened and a young woman entered, maybe eighteen, her hair a black as night, falling about her naked body. Her skin was pale white, her breasts large and topped with dark nipples. Her pussy was shaved bare, her labia swollen with desire and juices leaked down her leg.

“This is Sister Frances Joan and she has a Gift for you, Doug,” Maryām said as the beautiful woman walked towards me. My cock hardened.

Sister Frances sat down on the bed next to me, her lips tasted sweet as she kissed me. Her hand reached down and stroked my hardening cock. Her fingers were silk as she rubbed my cock to life. I touched her breast, gently, reverently. Giving her firm orbs the tiniest of squeezes, sliding my palm up to rub on her hard nipple.

“Come, let me feel you in me,” Sister Frances moaned. “Let us join as one.”

She pulled me down into her embrace, her body warm and lithe beneath me. She guided my cock to the wet entrance of her pussy. We moaned together as I slid into her inviting, tight depth. Her lips played with my ear as her legs wrapped around my hips, pulling me tightly into her.

“You have such a nice cock,” she whispered.

I fucked her slowly, staring into her deep, brown eyes. No, I didn’t fuck her, I made love to her. It was like our wedding night and I was making love to my bride for the first time. Our hips were moving in unison, our lips kissing each other, murmuring our pleasure into the other’s ears. Our hands roamed each other’s bodies. I felt her slim thighs, her tight ass, her smooth side and her full breasts. Her hands roamed across my chest, playing with my chest hair, rubbing my back, and squeezed my ass, urging me to go faster and faster.

“Yes, harder,” she moaned. “Faster! Let me feel your passion!”

I could feel our passion building and building as my cock rubbed against her cunt. Every stroke was building both of our orgasms. In and out, rubbing deliciously against each other. I found her hard nipple with one hand, rolling it between my fingers. My strokes were fast now, I was pounding her pussy. Her moans of passion filled my ears as we both approached the precipice. I could feel the cum boiling over in my balls and shuddered as I orgasmed inside this beautiful creature. Her body shuddered beneath me, her cunt clenching at my cock, milking my cum out of my balls.

She gasped a single word.

“Zebed!”

Her Gift flowed into me. From deep within her womb, through her tight pussy, and into my cock. A golden power that suffused every fiber of my being, body and soul, transforming me. I was baptized in the ecstasy of light and reborn as a new man.

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

“Gabriel,” I greet the Archangel.

“Dominion Ramiel,” he responded, his voice a mighty choir. “I sense your doubts, brother.”

“I have followed the threads, the longer we wait the stronger the Warlocks become,” I answered. “Theodora and her sisters have three soldiers and surprise on their side. They have seventy percent chance of slaying the Warlocks.”

“With two of our Priestesses dead,” Gabriel pointed out. “Our Priestesses are two few to spend so recklessly.”

“By the time they have recruited the twelve soldiers, the Warlocks will have tripled their guard,” I fumed with righteous anger. “Let us strike know before the odds are even worst. After Monday, even with twelve, there will only be a twenty-seven percent chance of slaying the Warlocks. And still two of our Priestesses will die.”

“The soldiers are only a last resort.”

Curiosity drowned out my anger. “What have you seen in the future that I have not, Gabriel?”

“Observe,” Gabriel stated and drew up the threads of mankind drawing me to a silver thread. “This thread belongs to Alice Perry.” He lead me into the past, six mortal years. Alice’s silver thread brushed the red thread of the Warlock Mary Sullivan. “Alice develops an infatuation with Mary at the age of seventeen,” Gabriel informed. “But, slowly it is forgotten as she goes off to college.” The silver thread spiraled about the red thread, slowly drifting farther apart as the years went on.

I followed the silver thread through the years as it drifted farther from Mary’s, became entwined with another silver thread and then knotted as Alice married a man six months ago. But Alice and her husband’s thread drifted apart and then were separated as Alice’s thread became deeply entwined for a few weeks about another man’s.

“Adultery,” Gabriel said with disgust. “The marriage was broken beyond repair, though the husband knows it not.”

Alice’s thread brushed once more with Mary’s, and started circling the Warlock’s thread. “Here, the infatuation was rekindled,” Gabriel explained. “This was almost two weeks ago, on the very day Sister Louise made her disastrous attempt to exorcise Mark.” Alice’s thread was spiraling closer and closer to Mary’s. Gabriel pointed to Alice’s thread two day’s ago. It was Tuesday morning and Alice’s thread was trying to work its way between Mary and Mark’s thread. The two Warlock threads were bound as tightly as any lovers Ramiel had ever observed.

“A declaration of love?” I asked, staring at the pattern. Love, emotions, were not my skill at reading the threads. My expertise lay in conflict.

“Yes,” Gabriel nodded. “Alice Perry declared her love to Mary and it was ignored. Mary was too preoccupied with her problems that she didn’t even hear what Alice told her. Mark was under the effects of the Bond of Avvah. Alice has declared her love and it was not reciprocated. Unrequited love is a very powerful emotion.”

I followed Alice’s thread, in the future she once more tries to get between Mark and Mary. Next Wednesday afternoon.

“Do you see the opportunity the Bond of Avvah has created?” Gabriel asked.

I frowned, shaking my head.

“Alice never would have made her confession to Mary without it,” Gabriel explained. “Alice was too afraid of losing Mary. Alice believed it was inevitable that Mark and Mary’s relationship would break up. So she waited, biding her time for the moment when it seemed Mary would leave Mark, and then she would act. Now that she made her declaration, it is all Alice can think of. On Wednesday afternoon, in the room of the Blue Spruce motel, Alice will try once more to have Mary all to herself. When Mary rejects her love, she will be vulnerable.”

“The Prayer of Qannow?” I asked in shock. “That Prayer is very dangerous.”

“Watch what happens when Theodora exploits this opportunity,” Gabriel stated and drew Theodora’s golden thread until it touched April’s. I watched in amazement, as I followed Alice’s thread into the most probable future, studying the variable and calculating the percentage of success.

“Ninety-nine percent chance of the Warlock Mark’s death,” I said in awe.

“Yes, and Mary’s as well,” Gabriel pointed out. “The foolish mortal tied her life to Mark’s when she made her Pact. When Mark dies, so shall Mary and two less Warlocks shall plague the world.”

“So the Bond of Avvah was meant to fail?” I asked in astonishment. “It was all a set up to create this one opportunity?”

“There was good odds of the Bond working,” Gabriel answered. “But it also created this opportunity.”

“Then why gather the soldiers at all?” I asked in confusion. “Ninety-nine percent. Only the Creator can predict the future with more accuracy.”

“Because, Mark Glassner must die or be exorcised,” Gabriel stated. “If Alice fails, then it will fall to Theodora and her sisters. And as you said, the odds are slim and we shall never again have the power to challenge Mark with our diminished resources.”

Gabriel showed me the future and he was right. “The Lord shelter us with his mercy,” I whispered. The Warlock Mark Glassner must be stopped. “Is that why you dispatched two more Priestesses? You told me that only Theodora was available? What changed?”

“Only when Mary used her last boon was this pattern set,” Gabriel admitted. “Our brother, Lucifer, is setting brush fires across the world, trying to distract us from Mark. I could not move Isabella or Agnes until I was sure they were needed.”

“What do we do if it fails, Gabriel?” I asked.

“Nothing,” Gabriel answered sadly. “We will have lost, Ramiel. But Maryām will see that the fire of hope keeps burning in the Wilderness.”

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 27.