1 Movie Night

by Stayrr

You Knew What.

169. The Devil's Pact 35-43

The Devil's Pact Chapter 35: The Storm

mypenname3000

Fantasy, Blowjob, Cum Swallowing, Female/Female, Incest, Lesbian, Male / Females, Male/Female, Male/Teen Female, Mind Control, Oral Sex, Threesome, Wife

Introduction:

Mark heads to Tacoma for a political rally, not kn

Chapter Thirty-Five: The Storm

Friday, September 27th, 2013 – Mark Glassner

"Sir, I think I've finally figured out how this communication spell works," Sam reported, her round, olive face filled with triumph.

Sam is our Vizier, and had been making amazing progress with the Magicks of the Witch of Endor. She had progressed beyond merely translating the Book, and actively applied the information to create new spells. Her most useful discovery was these amulets that could deflect bullets. And they weren't the only enchanted items or spells she created, such as these incense sticks that when burned make people very biddable. Willow used them to molest pretty girls that came to our charity clinic, looking for biddable girls to serve us once our mansion was constructed.

It was a lazy Friday afternoon; Mary and I both needed to relax. The last week had been busy getting ready for the gun-buyback program in Tacoma tomorrow morning. I sat at my desk in our shared office. I split a desk with Violet, while Mary and Lillian shared another. Lillian sat at the other desk working on the website for my campaign. The slut was naked, and I admired the profile of her breast. Lillian is our webmaster; she had been going to school for an IT degree, and did the coding for the site while Mary, who was quite the artist, did the graphic designs. One of her paintings, Mount Rainier at sunrise, hung over my desk. I glanced at my wife as she happily painted away, wearing one of my buttoned-down shirts, and nothing else. Her long, beautiful legs appeared beneath the hem of the shirt, and her plump ass rippled beneath the fabric as she shifted her hips.

"Really, how?" Mary asked Sam, not turning away from her painting.

"I think the focus needs to be a pregnant woman," Sam answered. "As you know, the spell works by using a living vessel as the connector between you."

"Yeah, we tried it with my mom," I said. "You said it had to be a mother. But that didn't work."

"Yes, because she wasn't pregnant," Sam nodded. "That's the key. There was this tricky word..."

I waved her off before she could wander off into one of her explanations. "So, we just need a pregnant woman?"

"We could try my mom," Mary suggested offhandedly. Tiffany and Mary found out they were pregnant within days of each other and both women had been ecstatic. "It won't hurt the child, right?"

Sam shook her head. "No, the spell just requires the focus subject to already be intimately attached to someone. And there is no more intimate bond than a child growing inside a mother's womb."

"We could use Korina," I suggested hopefully. We had three pregnant sluts at our disposal. "Or even Violet or April."

Mary shook her head. "It's time you bedded my mom, Mark. You've forgiven her for Chastity and now it's time to accept her as your family."

I glowered and opened my mouth to argue when I saw Mary look over her shoulder at me, a stubborn cast to her eyes. I sighed; it wasn't worth fighting over. "Okay, okay, you win, Mare."

"I always do." Her grin was impish as she peered over her shoulder at me.

"Do you?" I asked her as I stood up and leered at her. "Maybe I should put that to the test."

She gave a mock shriek of fear as I advanced on her and she fled the office with a laugh. I chased after her, catching a glimpse of her hair disappearing into the living room. I went the other way, into the kitchen. Desiree was cooking dinner, wearing a sexy maid's outfit, while Alison perched naked on the counter, teasing her wife.

"Mi Rey?" Desiree questioned as I pushed past her.

I reached the dining room in time to see Mary's laughing face as she realized I had cut her off. She turned to race back to the living room, but I caught her arm and pulled her to me. I wrapped my arms around her and pinned her gently against the wall. I stroked her face and stared into emerald eyes that flashed with desire.

"I guess I win," I said.

"Umm, I guess so," she purred, rubbing my chest. "I'm your helpless prisoner!" Her voice was thick with overacting. "Please, be gentle, you vile villain."

I laughed at how corny she sounded. "Vile Villain?"

"Yes, the dastardly Mark, who makes every woman swoon with his manliness," Mary continued, her hand stroking the front of my pants. "Hmm, his hard, throbbing manliness."

I kissed my wife as her hands deftly undid my belt and pants, reaching in to pull my hardening cock out of my boxers. My hands found her plump ass, naked beneath the shirt. I picked her up, her lithe legs wrapping around my waist. Her green eyes stared into mine as she broke the kiss.

"I'm ready to give you your reward for winning," she purred. "I'm all hot and wet, and more than ready for you."

"My naughty filly," I grinned as I lowered her onto me.

She guided my cock to the wet lips of her pussy. I felt my dick bump into her smooth vulva, slide across her slit, then push into her. We moaned together as my cock sank slowly into her tight, wet depths. She hooked her arms around my neck. Smiling wickedly, she started writhing her hips, sliding me in and out of her silky depths. I helped her, using my hands to pump her hips on my dick while I kneaded her plump ass.

"So tight, Mare," I panted. "I love you so much!"

Mary gasped, "Ohh, I love you, too, Mark. Yes, fuck me hard! I need a cum so bad! Make your filly cum with your big cock!"

I started thrusting, meeting her writhing hips. My cock rubbed faster against her pussy's walls as my wife hugged me tightly. Her breath felt warm on my neck and her lips wet as she started kissing and nibbling. I buried my face in the beautiful slope of her neck, licking up to her ear and sucking on her lobe. Her pussy tightened and she nibbled harder on my neck. Our flesh slapped together as we fucked each other harder and harder.

"Oh yes, I love your cock!" she panted. "Keep slamming it into me! Umm, you're gonna make me cum! My horny stallion is fucking me so hard I'm gonna just explode!"

"Cum for me, Mare," I whispered in her ear. "Cum on my hard cock. I love it when your pussy milks my dick!"

"Yes, yes, yes!" Mary cried and there was that delicious feeling of her cunt spasming upon me. "Give it to me! Spill your cum inside me, Mark! Umm, my pussy is hungry for your cream! Do it, stud!"

I shoved my cock hard inside her, reveling in the feel of her tight cunt, and exploded inside my wife's pussy. "Oh, fuck!" I groaned as I shot three large blasts inside her. "That was a great reward, Mare."

She sighed, still nuzzling at my neck. "It was great. Can you put me down; my arms are getting sore."

I laughed and pulled out of her and set her down. "So, I guess you should go talk to your mom."

"Oh, we can use one of the pregnant sluts," Mary said in an offhand manner, "if you're really against sleeping with my mom."

I sensed a trap. "No, no, you're right. I need to start accepting her as family, I guess."

She kissed me on the lips. "Good. After dinner?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure there's nothing going on tonight."

"There isn't, Master," Violet answered. I jumped, and saw Violet sitting at the dining room table, her laptop in front of her.

"Were you here the whole time?" I asked.

She grinned at me, looking mischievously cute with her young face and pigtails. "I was, and I had a delicious cum." She held up her fingers, clearly sticky with her juices. "I had a great view of your yummy butt, Master. Thank you."

"You're welcome," I smiled at her.

Dinner was delicious, as always, and I enjoyed a great blowjob from Korina as I ate. The sluts always took turns sucking my cock and eating out Mary's pussy during meals. Mary enjoyed a nice orgasm from April. Tonight, Desiree made a delicious lamb shish kebab and a rice pilaf. After everyone finished, the sluts cleared the table and Desiree brought out a delicious apple pie for dessert.

"Master," Jessica said as she returned to the room. She had slipped out while dessert was being served. "There is something strange going on in Seattle."

She slipped into my lap, her caramel breasts jiggling as she moved. I gave her a kiss, and tweaked a dark nipple and she giggled. She sat a manilla folder on the table and opened it. I saw a picture of Mayor Erikson, the mayor of Seattle, and a woman with purple hair getting out of a limousine. I had met Erikson last month at a meeting of state mayors in Spokane. He was very supportive of my gun control measures and next month we were supposed to have a gun-buyback in Seattle.

"Who's the woman?" I asked. "Definitely not his wife. A mistress?"

"That's what my source thinks," Jessica answered. "No one knows her name. She's been seen with the Mayor at all his public appearances the last two days."

"So?" I asked. "Other than her weird choice in hair color, what's so unusual about a politician having an affair?"

"Yeah, that hair is a bit much," Mary giggled. "What is she, into Anime or something? She looks young."

"The problem is that Mayor Erikson is gay," Jessica answered. "He's been openly gay for twenty years. He and his partner were one of the firsts couples married when it was legalized last November. There has also been a strange death in the Mayor's office. Tuesday night, his assistant, and some say his boyfriend, died of an unknown disease. And since Wednesday he's been seen with this woman."

I frowned. "Maybe it's a coincidence?"

"Maybe, Master," Jessica frowned. "However, given the capabilities of our enemies, I think we should be wary of any radical changes of behavior or mysterious deaths."

Mary bit her lip. "Maybe you should cancel that gun-buyback in Seattle next month until we know what's going on. Jessica, have 51 quietly make contact with Seattle PD and find out who that woman is."

Jessica nodded and climbed off my lap. "Right away, Mistress."

As we ate our pie, Mary and I discussed the information. We just ended up going around in circles. All we had was speculation. We thought Lilith was in Seattle, but we had no proof. Chantelle and Lana hadn't been spotted by anyone since they dropped off Karen's body two months ago. Even when they appeared on Washington State's Most Wanted, no tips were generated.

Mary grabbed a second slice of pie. "Hungry?" I asked her with a smile, tired of worrying about Lilith.

"It's your kid that's hungry, Mark," she smiled back, quickly polished off that second piece, and stood up. "Well, I guess I better get Mom."

I stood up as well, kissed my wife and rubbed her stomach. Our child grew inside her. I never thought I would have kids, and now I was going to have four just with the women in this house alone, plus Beth Philips and Vivian Anders and who knows how many others. Anastasia Milburn, from the jogging club, was pregnant, and it could be mine or her husband's. There were quite a few members of the Church of the Living Gods who weren't sure who the fathers of their children were, either.

I headed up to our bedroom and stripped naked and stretched out on the bed and waited. I was starting to wonder if Mary was coming when the door opened and Mary and her mother slipped in. I smiled; both wore teddies. Mary's was a pale blue and transparent. Her perky breasts were cupped in silk, surrounded by white lace, and her dusky nipples were clearly visible through the fabric. A blue thong barely covered her pussy, her heart of pubic hair peaked out around the fabric. Tiffany had a scarlet teddy, her sandy-blonde hair falling pale against the vibrant fabric. Her breasts were larger, the bodice also transparent and I could see her hard nipples. Tiffany wore a pair of lacy, red panties that did nothing to hide the blonde bush beneath.

"Hmm, he's gorgeous," Tiffany purred. "My Gift really transformed him."

"I know." Mary had the same, hungry look in her eyes as she stared at me. They could be sisters, both young, with heart-shaped faces. The only differences were the eyes and hair. Mary had emerald eyes and auburn hair, while her mother had sapphire eyes and sandy-blonde hair.

"I sent April and Violet to play with Dad," Mary smiled as she stalked forward. "They both dressed up as naughty schoolgirls for him."

Tiffany licked her lips. "Too many years teaching those hot, young teenagers really corrupted my husband."

Not only did Mary's dad, Sean, still teach at Washington High School, he wasn't the only one going there every weekday. Missy and her boyfriend Damien were still students, and Damien's sex slave, Mrs. Corra, taught math at the high school. Each had to have two bodyguards to protect them and that took a lot of calls to the School Board, the adminstrators, and the PTA to get straightened out.

Mary slid onto the bed on my right, and Tiffany crawled towards me on the left. Both stared at me with lust-filled eyes; tigers stalking their prey. Silken hair brushed my thighs as they crawled closer and closer. Tiffany bent down and kissed me on the lips and Mary kissed my chin. Both mother and daughter pressed their bodies against me, and ran their hands across my muscled chest. I returned the favor, sliding my hands down their backs until I was cupping a pair of plump asses.

Mary moved up and joined our kiss. Our three tongues fenced before I turned and my wife stuck hers into my mouth as her mother licked at my chin. Tiffany followed my jawline to my ear and started teasing my lobe. Mary broke the kiss and pulled on her mother's blonde hair, bringing her face closer. It was beautiful as I watched mother and daughter kiss above me.

"You two are so beautiful," I murmured. They broke their kiss and smiled down at me.

"Who's the most beautiful?" Tiffany asked.

"Mary," I answered without hesitation. It was the truth; I liked a redhead more than a blonde.

"Umm, someone deserves a reward," Mary purred, and started kissing at my neck.

She kissed down my chest, teased my nipple with her tongue, and sucked it into her mouth. Mary sometimes liked to kiss and suck at my nipples, but it didn't do much for me, just tingled a bit. I was happy to let her do it, though. Then she licked lower and lower. Her cheek rubbed against my flat stomach, her auburn hair fanned out across my chest behind her.

"You're a good husband," Tiffany murmured, and kissed me on the lips again.

Mary's face was getting closer and closer to my cock, her breath warm on my shaft. She rubbed her face into my brown pubic hair, then I moaned into Tiffany's lips as Mary's tongue slowly slid up my cock, up and up until she grazed the sensitive tip. I shuddered and my cock jumped in pleasure. Giggling, Mary licked up the shaft from the base to the tip again. This time she swirled her tongue around the head once, before she returned to the base.

"Want some help, Mary?" Tiffany asked.

"I do, Mom," Mary answered.

Tiffany sat up and slipped off her panties. She held them up and I could see a damp spot on the gusset, then she held them to my nose. "Sean loves smelling my dirty panties," she confessed. I inhaled deeply; she had a spicy scent similar to Mary's. Tiffany laughed, "I see he's not the only guy."

"They smell great, Tiffany," I told her.

"Umm, then you are just going to love this," she promised.

Tiffany straddled my face, lowering her pussy to my lips as she bent down to lap at my cock. Her pussy was covered by a mat of blonde hair, a darker shade than the hair on her head. I could smell her arousal, and see juices glisten amidst the hair. I rubbed my lips into the silky forest, tasted her spicy flavor as I found her pussy.

"Ohh, that's nice, Mark," purred Tiffany as I sucked a dark labia swollen with lust into my lips.

"He's the best," Mary answered, her voice full of pride and love. I felt her cheek rub against the side of my cock as her mother licked up the other side of the shaft.

I buried my face into her mother's cunt, licking my tongue through her wet slit. Tiffany sucked the head of my cock into her lips and I enjoyed her hum of pleasure. Mary slid down and started to suck at my balls. She would engulf one, then the other, into her sweet lips and gently played with them with her tongue. I found Tiffany's hard clit and nuzzled my nose into her folds as I sucked at the sensitive pearl.

Tiffany started bobbing her head, sucking hard as she engulfed my cock. She used her teeth, lightly, to graze my cock. My cock brushed the back of her throat and then she slid down my shaft, deepthroating my cock. It felt wonderful inside her tight throat and I moaned with her clit in my mouth; a delightful shudder rippled through my mother-in-law.

"Ooh, you can deepthroat?" Mary gasped in awe. "Wow!"

Tiffany slid her head up my shaft, sucking wonderfully the entire time. "Your Mom knows a trick or two," she giggled, then deepthroated me again.

I squeezed my mother-in-law's ass, spread her cheeks wide, and I started to play with her asshole. She sucked hard on my cock as I pushed a finger up her tight ass, a low moan vibrating through her throat. My balls erupted from the sudden sensation and she quickly pulled up her mouth to catch the second and third blast in her lips.

I slowly fingered her asshole as I sucked on her clit. I felt Tiffany release my cock and then heard some wet, smacking sounds. They were kissing, sharing my cum. "Umm, that's delicious," Mary purred, then I heard more kissing noises, and I almost wished my view wasn't obstructed by Tiffany's beautiful pussy. Almost.

"Ohh, Mark knows his way around a pussy," Tiffany panted.

"He's had lots of practice." I could just picture the satisfied smirk on my wife's face. I enjoyed eating her pussy out, particularly when we took a shower.

"Shoot, I'm gonna cum!" Tiffany gasped. "Oh yes, oh wow!" Delicious honey flooded my mouth as my mother-in-law came. "Oh, jeez! Yes, yes, yes!" She breathed deeply. "That was great, thank you."

She slid off of my face and both women cuddled up next to me. "Shoot?" I asked, looking at my mother-in-law. "And 'oh, jeez?' I've never heard such clean dirty-talk before."

"Too long spent in churches," she sighed.

Mary licked at my lips and savored her mother's flavor, before she kissed me. "So, shall we?" Mary asked.

"This won't hurt the baby, right?" Tiffany asked, concerned, her hands clutching at her belly.

"No, Sam assures us it's safe," I said. "I didn't get the details. If you let her, she'll ramble on and on about all the technical minutia that just bores the crap out of me. But I trust her."

Mary nodded in agreement. "I wouldn't risk my future brother or sister, Mom."

"So, I just say, 'Siyach' when I cum, right?" Tiffany asked.

"Yeah," I answered. "While bringing the both of us to orgasm."

"You're making it sound so technical," Mary complained. "Mom, just lie on your back and I'll sit on your face and you can lick me to a shuddering orgasm while Mark fucks your pregnant cunt until you explode."

"Hmm, sounds good," Tiffany smiled. "I have grown to like the taste of my daughters' pussies." It had taken Mary's older sister, Shannon, a few weeks to come around and forgive her mother's absence. Missy, on the other hand, had been so excited to finally meet her mother. She had been barely two when Tiffany fell prey to a Warlock, and affectionately rekindled her relationship with her estranged mother.

Tiffany stretched out on the bed, breathtakingly beautiful in her red teddy, her legs obscenely spread wide, exposing her furred snatch. Mary quickly straddled her mother and lowered her bare cunt to Tiffany's waiting lips. I loved watching a woman's tongue sliding through another woman's pussy, particularly when that pussy belonged to my wife.

I grabbed Tiffany's legs, lifted her up, and slid a pillow beneath her ass. Mary moaned, thrusting her breasts outward, still encased in the silk of her blue teddy. They looked a little bigger than a month ago, and felt fuller. I loved Mary's breasts, and I didn't mind at all that the pregnancy was making them bigger. Just meant more to play with! Mary leaned over, grasped my cock, and guided it to her mother's cunt.

"Give her a good ride," Mary purred as I pushed the head of my cock into Tiffany's tight cunt.

I thrust hard and enjoyed the feel of my mother-in-law's snatch. Why had I been so stubborn about this? She felt amazing. I gripped her thighs and gave her good, hard thrusts that left her moaning into my wife's pussy. Mary's eyes rolled in pleasure and her lips pursed. They were red and full and begged to be kissed, so I leaned forward and captured them in a kiss. Mary melted into my mouth, her hand gripped the back of my head as she kissed me back. My right hand let go of Tiffany's leg and I reached under the teddy to caress Mary's stomach.

Mary broke the kiss and gasped in pleasure as my hand slid up and started to gently grope her left breast. "Oh yes!" she gasped as I pinched her nipple. "Oh, fuck, that feels great! Suck my clit, Mom! Oh, you fucking know just how to get me off! Oh, fuck! I'm so horny! Watching you deepthroat Mark made me so wet! Siyach!" she screamed as her orgasm exploded through her, starting the ritual.

"My naughty filly," I grinned, fucking Tiffany harder as Mary smiled happily at me.

Mary sighed, "My horny stallion. Make my mom howl in pleasure!"

"Fuck yeah I will!" I panted.

I pulled Tiffany's legs up, hooked her ankles onto my shoulders, and leaned forward. I was able to thrust deeply into her tight pussy, pumping away as fast as I could. My mother-in-law's cunt felt like soft silk rubbing deliciously up and down on my cock. Every thrust full of sweet pleasure. I could hear my balls slap against her taint as I fucked her harder and harder. I had to cum! That great need built up inside me. Closer and closer my orgasm drew, every stroke agonizing pleasure, spurring me to thrust harder and faster.

"Siyach!" I gasped as I flooded my mother-in-law's pussy. "Fuck, your cunt is amazing, Tiffany!"

I kept pounding her cunt. I needed to bring her to orgasm to finish the spell. Mary reached down and started fingering her mother's clit. Tiffany moaned wordlessly beneath Mary, and I could see a second orgasm growing on my wife's face. I changed the angle of my thrust, the head of my cock now rubbing along the top of her cunt. Tiffany twitched as I grazed her G-spot.

That set her off. I felt her pussy milking my cock as her body heaved beneath Mary. Tiffany shouted a word, muffled by Mary's cunt, and I felt this connection spring up from Tiffany, into Mary and myself. Mary shuddered, cumming again on her mother's lips and I felt another load of cum shooting off into Tiffany's cunt. My vision blackened with the intensity of it, ecstasy boiling through me and escaping into her pussy.

Holy shit, I thought.

*Oh, wow, that's wild!* Mary's voice whispered in my mind. *I heard you inside my head!*

*You can hear me?* I asked her silently.

*Yeah.*

"Did it work?" Tiffany asked, breathless.

I pulled out of my mother-in-law, sprawling back on the bed. "Yeah, it worked great."

Mary snuggled against me as Tiffany rolled out of bed. "Great," she smiled. She bent down and kissed Mary and then me on the lips. "Well, I'm going home, you two have a good night."

"You're not going to stay and cuddle?" Mary pouted.

"Well, that sounds tempting," Tiffany smiled. "But there are two hot, teenage sluts in bed with my husband, and I want to join in the fun."

"Ohh, has Dad corrupted you, too?" Mary asked, curious. "Do you have a schoolgirl fetish now, Mom?"

"Maybe," Tiffany answered with a mysterious smile.

Mary's eyes widened in realization. "Oh, you've fucked one of dad's students!"

Tiffany laughed. "Yep! On Tuesday. I went to see Sean at work, you know, to surprise him with a nooner. I found him balls deep in one of his students. This cute girl named...um...Emily." Tiffany smiled fondly. "She was scared, at first, but I convinced her to eat me out while Sean fucked her pussy."

"You dirty slut," Mary giggled. "Mark once spent an entire day at a high school, fucking every girl he could. Meanwhile, I was stuck running errands for our wedding and having an absolutely terrible day."

"Hey, I had to find two virgins," I protested. "I had to search long and hard to find two girls that still had intact hymens."

"Oh, I'm sure it was hard," grinned Mary, her hand gripping my cock. "And once it was hard, it was definitely long."

*It's long and hard for you, Mare* I thought at my wife.

A pleased smile appeared on her lips. *Well, maybe I should fix that?*

"This is all your fault, Mark Glassner," Mary complained the next morning as I held her hair back. She opened her mouth to speak, her eyes widened, and she turned back to the toilet to vomit into the bowel.

Morning sickness had been rough on Mary, and this morning seemed particularly unpleasant. "Sorry, Mare. But it was your idea to have a child," I pointed out calmly.

She glared at me, her face pale, almost green. "I don't want to hear your excuses, Mark Glassner!"

I laughed, which only made her glare harder. "You look beautiful this morning, Mare," I quickly said.

"Liar," she accused, but my compliment helped to mollify her anger. Well, she wasn't really angry, just in some discomfort, and so lashed out at me. So I used my other hand to rub her shoulder and bent down to kiss her neck.

She stood up and I handed her a glass of water and she rinsed her mouth out, then I carried her back to bed and set her down, and kissed her forehead. "Feeling better?" I asked, snuggling up against her.

"No," she sighed. "I don't think I'm up for going to the gun-buyback today."

"Sure, Mare." I rubbed at her stomach. "Only eight-weeks old and she is already causing problems."

Mary giggled. "A girl, huh? Not a son to take after you?"

I snorted with laughter. "There wouldn't be a safe pussy anywhere in the state," I boasted. "My son would have to fuck them all."

Mary smiled fondly. "Well, if it's a girl, what would you name her?"

"Chastity," I answered without hesitation.

Mary looked at me; a tear welled in the corner of her eye. "That's lovely." She kissed me gently. "And if it's a boy?"

"Hmm, I don't know," I said, frowning. "I've always thought Quatch was a cool name."

Mary smiled and pinched me. "We are not naming our child after that hairy friend of yours!"

"Well, I'm out of ideas, what would you name our son?"

"Albert," Mary answered.

"Really?" I frowned. What a terrible name. "Have you been talking to my mom?"

Mary nodded. "She told me all about her dad, so I think we should name him after your grandfather."

"Why not yours?" I asked. I really didn't want to name my son Albert. Grandpa had been a great guy before he passed away from cancer, but Albert was a horrible name.

"Mine are both named Mike. Just like my ex-boyfriend."

"Oh, good point." I kissed her nose, she just looked so cute. "Chastity if it's a girl, and it will be a girl, Mary. Or Albert in the incredibly unlikely event we have a son."

Mary rolled her eyes. "You need to prepare yourself to have a son, Mark," she laughed. "There's a fifty-fifty chance after all."

"Ahh, but the man's sperm chooses the sex," I pointed out. "So I just concentrated on having a girl, so my sperm knew which ones should be making the attempt."

"I don't think that's how it works, Mark," Mary sighed with exasperation.

"Sure it does," I boasted. "I asked Willow. She's an Obstetrician, so she'd know."

"Liar," Mary smiled. Then her smile faded as her face paled and she bolted for the bathroom, again.

I followed, holding her auburn hair up to keep the vomit out. "You know, I really love you," I told her between heaves. "Otherwise, I wouldn't put up with something this disgusting."

"It's your fault I'm vomiting, Mark Glassner!" Mary snapped back. "So just suck it up, be a man, and hold my hair."

"Yes, dear," I grinned at her.

Afterward, Mary laid back down to take a nap, and I went to get some breakfast. I passed Violet stumbling out of the bathroom, looking just as green-faced as Mary. April was with her, a teasing smile on her lips. "Oh, it's not fair," Violet complained. "Why don't you suffer morning sickness, April?"

"Luck?" she shrugged. "Oh, good morning, Master."

"Keep it down," I admonished the pregnant sluts. "Mary's had a rough morning."

Alice looked sheepish and nodded, and I kissed her on the lips, then Violet on the forehead, then headed downstairs. Alison gave me my morning blowjob as I sipped at my coffee and watched Desiree's naked ass as she cooked breakfast. I loved getting a blowjob from Alison, her tongue-piercing added a little something extra that made me cum just a little faster.

"Thank you, Master," Alison smiled, her mouth full of cum. She walked over to her wife and kissed her on the lips, swapping my cum between each other.

"Umm, that was delicious, mi Sirenita," Desiree purred, smacking her lips. "And thank you, mi Rey, for cumming in my wife's mouth."

"Oh, the pleasure was all mine," I grinned, and Lillian richly laughed as she sipped at her coffee next to me.

After breakfast, I went upstairs to get ready for the gun-buyback. I brought Mary up a tray that held a light breakfast of fruit. She was still napping. So I left the tray, covered with a cloth, on the bedside table. I quietly showered and got dressed in a tailored, blue suit with a red tie, and my uncomfortable dress shoes. I slipped out of the room, quietly, and walked downstairs.

Desiree and Violet were waiting for me, dressed in their office slut attires. Desiree wore a tight, red mini-skirt that clung to her full, Latin ass; a sheer, white blouse that her hard nipples were clearly visible through; and a red blazer. Violet wore a pleated, gray skirt that barely covered her slim ass, and a red tube-top that clung to her apple-sized breasts like a second skin, her nipples clearly hard as they dimpled the fabric. She wore a gray jacket and her brown hair fell loose about her shoulders, instead of her usual pigtails. Both wore their gold chokers proclaiming to whom they belonged.

Desiree was my campaign manager and Violet was my secretary. We were putting all the sluts to work. Jessica was my press secretary, Lillian was my webmaster, and April was Mary's secretary. Xiu was in charge of the household: she assigned cleaning jobs, sent sluts on errands to the stores, made sure we had food, etc. Alison was our liaison to the Church of the Living Gods, the group that worshiped Mary and me. Korina was coordinating the construction of the mansion, the foundations of which had already been laid out, and the workmen and -women were starting to raise the exterior walls. It just might be ready by the time our child is born in seven months.

"Are we all set?" I asked Desiree and Violet.

"Yes, Master," Violet nodded. "Leah has the limo gassed up and ready to go."

Our limo was a specially ordered, armored beast. We bought it from this company down south that specialized in armored vehicles. The armor on the limo could take all but the heaviest fire. Short of a tank, the limo was indestructible. Leah waited next to the limo, smiling and wearing her chauffeur's outfit. A short, black skirt covered her ass and fishnet-stockings clad her beautiful legs; a white corset pushed up breasts and a red-and-orange tie dangled down into her spectacular cleavage. A small, black jacket and a chauffeur's cap, perched on the curly mass of her brunette hair, completed the outfit. Both Leah and Rachel had let their dyed-blonde hair fade back to their original brown in the last few months. It had something to do with their three-way marriage to Jacob; Mary understood it and would get all misty-eyed as she explained, "It's so beautiful how they express their love for Jacob." I didn't get it.

"Sir," Leah purred as I walked up; I bent down and kissed her on the lips. Leah's husband and wife were hovering nearby and after we all climbed into the limo, I saw Jacob and Rachel hug and kiss their wife goodbye. Jacob and Rachel worked for us as accountants; between our charity, the Church, and my campaign, money was coming in and going out in all directions and we needed someone to manage the books.

51 climbed into the limo, the Black woman who headed up our bodyguard. She showed initiative the day of the attack and we promoted her to take Chastity's place. Her partner, 47, was second-in-command, and would be staying at home. Squad A was guarding me today. Right now we had a total of six squads of eight bodyguards each. Squad B and C were staying behind to watch Mary and the neighborhood, Squad D was in Chicago guarding Shannon and George on his business trip. Squads E and F were guarding our planes.

Two squad cars led the limo out of the neighborhood and two more followed. Each car had two bodyguards and an AR-15. After the SWAT attack, I wanted to be well armed in case of another assault. Everyone wore their Amulets that warded them from bullets. I should never have forbidden the bodyguards their bulletproof vests. A few might still be alive if they had been wearing them, and that guilt gnawed at me sometimes, late at night. Well, the Amulets worked better, and I could still have my guard of pretty women in sexy cop outfits.

"Feeling better, Violet?" I asked as the limo took the left onto Shaw Road.

"I am, Master," she smiled coquettishly. Even with her hair down, she looked young and innocent. She rubbed at my hardening cock. "Do you require some relief?"

"Yeah," I smiled.

I kissed Violet on the lips, her mouth minty fresh from her toothpaste. I heard the metallic rasp of my zipper and her hand fished my cock out, stroking me to full hardness. She broke the kiss, a questioning look in her eyes.

"In your cunt," I answered her.

She purred, "Absolutely, Master," as she straddled my waist.

I pushed her skirt up and exposed her bald pussy. Her slit was tight and looked girlish without any hair. Moisture beaded on her pussy as she lowered her pussy down to my waiting cock. I groaned as her tight, teenage cunt engulfed my cock and slid down to take my entire length. Violet threw her head back and gasped as she slowly started riding my cock. I pulled her tube-top down, exposing her small, pink nipples to my hungry gaze.

"Yes, yes, Master!" Violet moaned as I sucked her right nipple into my lips. I squeezed her breasts; they felt a little plumper and I wondered how big they would get by the time she gave birth to my child. I hoped they didn't get too big; Violet's small breasts were perfect for her.

"Sir, may I indulge?" 51 asked. I released Violet's nipple, looking around the teen at 51 sitting across from me. My bodyguard's dark eyes shone with lust. She was on duty, so she knew that she couldn't indulge in any sex act without my permission. Desiree sat next to her, nuzzling against 51's dark neck.

"Yeah, Desiree, eat her cunt out."

"As you command, mi Rey," Desiree answered in her sultry, Latin accent, slipping down to the floor.

"Thank you, sir," 51 gasped as Desiree buried her face beneath 51's short, blue skirt.

51 unbuttoned her blouse, revealing her small, ebony breasts topped with pink nipples. She pinched them between her fingers as she enjoyed Desiree's tongue lashing. Violet was hugging me tightly, pumping her hips on me. Her snatch was a tight, wonderful vice as she rode me. I squeezed her tight ass and watched 51 writhe in pleasure. Desiree pushed her skirt up and I could see her shaved pussy, dark and swollen with her arousal.

"Dirty slut," I moaned as Desiree started fingering her snatch. "Desiree, I want to watch you cum while eating out 51's cunt!"

"Ohh, yes, mi Rey!"

*Thanks for the fruit, Mark* Mary's voice suddenly filled my mind, startling me. This new communication spell may take some getting used to.

*You're welcome, Mare* I sent back, struggling to concentrate with Violet's tight cunt riding my cock.

*My mom stopped by and strawberries taste even sweeter soaked in her juices.*

*Naughty filly!* God, I wish I was there to see that. I closed my eyes and pictured Mary taking a bright-red strawberry and sliding it through her mother's blonde-furred muff, gathering her spicy juices, and popping it into her mouth.

*So, is it Desiree or Violet playing with your cock?*

*Violet's riding me. How did you know?* I asked.

I could almost feel her laugh. *I know you, Mark. You're my horny stallion. You almost have to have your cock in a woman's hole 24/7. Well, have fun; I'm feeling better and Mom has a banana shoved up her pussy and I'm feeling a little hungry! Love ya, stud!*

*Love you* I sent back, hoping she could feel my love through the thought.

"Oh, fuck!" moaned Violet. "I love your cock, Master! The best cock in the whole wide world!"

"It's the only cock you've ever fucked," I pointed out as she rode me.

"No, I fucked Mistress when she had one," Violet panted. "When you were under that spell."

I had to laugh at that. Mary told me about the cock, but not about fucking Violet, when I was obsessed with my little sister Antsy. "Maybe she's the father," I teased.

"Ohh, maybe. Umm, that feels good!" Violet moved her head and stared into my eyes. "Willow says my date of conception was around that Tuesday. I fucked you both that day."

I thought about that. What if it was Mary's child inside her? I kissed Violet. "I don't care," I told her truthfully. "Either way, your child is part of the family."

"I love you, Master," Violet smiled and added a delightful twist to her hips as she fucked me.

I loved all my sluts. It wasn't the all-encompassing love I felt for Mary. That love drowned out all other feelings, but I was fond of my sluts. I cared for them. They were mine. And Mary's. "I love you, too, my little, pregnant slut!"

"Umm, your slut!" she purred, savoring the word. "I'm going to cum! Shoot your spunk inside me, Master! I want us to cum together!"

"Keep wiggling those hips like that, slut, and I'll fill your pussy with so much cum!" I groaned. "Oh, fuck, your cunt feels amazing!"

"My slutty cunt?"

"Yeah, your slutty fucking cunt!" I grabbed her waist and shoved her all the way down my shaft and spilled my seed as deep into her as I could.

"Yes, yes, fuck yes!" Violet gasped as her cunt spasmed about my cock. "Oh, thank you, Master! Thank you, thank you, thank you! That was great!"

I fucked 51's cunt – a wet, pink slit surrounded by her beautiful, ebony skin – after Violet, and then I got a great titty-fuck from Desiree as we got off the freeway in Tacoma. "There's a lot of traffic, sir," Leah reported. "I think the gun-buyback is going to be a great success."

"Yeah," I moaned as Desiree sandwiched my cock between her big tits.

51's juices on my cock lubed me up, and Desire furiously rubbed her tits up and down on my cock as we crawled up 9th Street. Even with the lights and sirens of my escorts, climbing the steep hill of downtown Tacoma towards the Courthouse was slow going. As we passed Commerce Street, 51 gasped and came on Violet's mouth. With a happy smile, 51 buttoned-up her blouse.

"I love your tits, slut," I moaned, looking down at Desiree's happy, nut-brown face.

"I love your cock, mi Rey," Desiree purred, then licked at the tip of my cock.

"Fuck!" I groaned and spilled my cum, white upon her brown tits. Desiree smiled, letting the cum run in milky rivulets around her heavy orbs. She didn't bother buttoning up her blouse. She was a slut taking pride in her work and wanted everyone to know it.

The Courthouse sat on Tacoma Ave between 9th and 11th Streets, and Tacoma PD had roadblocks at both intersections. They let our motorcade pass the barricades and Violet made sure I was presentable as we pulled up to the Courthouse. "You look so handsome, Master," she cutely smiled as she straightened my tie.

The limo stopped and the huge crowd that filled the square before the Courthouse cheered wildly. The bodyguards poured out of their vehicles and formed up around the limo before Leah opened the door. 51 stepped out first, her eyes examining the crowd before she would let me out. The bodyguards all had orders—our safety came first. Even if that meant ignoring our orders.

When I stepped out the sun was warm on my face, and the crowd erupted into cheers; an almost solid wave of sound rolled into me like surf pounding a rocky cliff. It was nearing the end of September, and it had been a warm month, but the nights were getting colder and October was just a few days away. With October would come the gray clouds and the never-ending rain of Western Washington. Not until the end of May or early June would the weather get pleasant again.

I raised up my hand, waving at the crowd. Their cheers flowed through me, filling me with this heady feeling. There were hundreds here, not counting all the news crews that were filming the event. Hundreds of people were clapping and calling out my name. No wonder people got into politics; this was almost the greatest feeling in the world. I smiled, waved, and let the crowd's intoxicating love wash through me. My bodyguards formed up around us. 51 walked directly in front of me and Violet and Desiree followed, her tits still out and covered in cum. Behind us, a few Tacoma Cops and Leah drove our motorcade away, to park it behind the Courthouse and out of the way for the day's events.

I shook hands as the bodyguards pushed through the crowd. Everyone was reaching out to touch me, and Desiree and Violet, too. Women were fondling Desiree's breasts, scooping up my cum and reverently eating their God's seed. It was deafening in the crowd, almost overwhelming. Finally, we made it through the square and walked into the Courthouse.

Mayor Bray of Tacoma – short and fit, looking younger than his forty-six years – shook my hand first. Next to him was his beautiful Korean wife, as tall as her husband, with a round face and a big smile. Her almond-shaped eyes twinkled with excitement and her hand trembled as we shook hands.

"My wife, Yoon," Mayor Bray introduced.

"My Lord," she said in awe. Another true believer, I thought with a smile.

"My pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Bray," I said, taking her hand and kissing it. She was quite a lovely woman; my eyes roamed her body. "I would love to get to know you better."

The Mayor nodded his head. "Of course, of course. Yoon is very pleasant company." I bet she is. My cock hardened, and I kept holding her hand, stroking it with my thumb. She blushed, her dark eyes twinkling with desire.

"I thought your wife, the radiant Goddess, would be here?" Yoon asked.

"Something came up that she needed to take care of," I lied. It wouldn't do for the woman to learn her Goddess had morning sickness. A Goddess should be above such mundane problems. "But she would love to meet you."

"I would be honored," Yoon purred.

Sheriff Erkhart walked up and I let go of Yoon's hand to shake his. Then I greeted Captain Cumming, head of Tacoma PD. I knew all the local law enforcements' leadership, they were all under my power. "This was a great idea," Sheriff Erkhart said. "The turnout is incredible."

It was a great turnout. Not surprising since I spent the last week giving live interviews, commanding anyone with a gun that wasn't a cop or soldier to turn them in today. The greatest threat to Mary and me is someone with a gun killing us before we have a chance to use our powers. Sure we had our amulets, but they weren't perfect. A large enough caliber weapon could overcome the protection and an automatic weapon could overload the amulet after ten or so hits.

"Well, I have to go make the introductions," Mayor Bray said, turning to head back outside.

I retook Mrs. Bray's hand, pulling her to me, my eyes raking her body. "Do you want to fuck me, my Lord?" she asked; her body trembled with awe and lust.

"Yes," I told her.

She swallowed and pulled up her skirt. She wore no panties. "I follow the commandments," she smiled. "I only let my husband fuck me, normally. But you are my God! Colton will not mind."

"No, he won't," I told her and bent her over the X-ray machine that stood just beyond the metal detectors. Her husband was under my commands, and would accept anything I did as perfectly normal, even fucking his wife.

Outside, her husband spoke at the podium as I rubbed my dick through the shaved lips of her pussy. She shuddered in pleasure as I pushed into her snatch. She wasn't as tight as Mary or any of the sluts, but she still felt great as I fucked my cock inside her. My balls slapped against her clit, adding a staccato beat as I pounded away at her cunt.

"Oh my God!" Yoon moaned. "Your cock is heavenly. Umm, this is so amazing! Bless my married cunt, my Lord! Oh, fuck yes!"

A hush fell over the crowd, and I glanced out the glass doors of the courthouse to see the Mayor waiting. Oh shit! I was supposed to be out there. Well, everyone would have to wait; Mrs. Bray's cunt felt too great to stop now. The Mayor frowned, then walked back inside.

"Oh honey," Mrs. Bray panted. "Oh wow, this is amazing! My God is fucking me!"

"I see my wife is being very friendly," the Mayor grinned. "She's been so excited to meet you."

"I can tell," I panted as Mrs Yoon's cunt convulsed about my cock as she came. "You've got a great wife."

"I know," he said, smiling fondly at his wife. "Okay, I'll go stall."

"Yeah," I panted. Mrs. Bray's orgasm was still going, milking my cock as I pumped her hard. She kept gasping and panting as her orgasms rolled together, massaging my cock, until I couldn't take the pleasure of her cunt any longer, and I spilled my seed inside her. "You have a great pussy, Mrs. Bray."

"Thank you, my Lord," she panted, adjusting her gray skirt.

"Make sure you thank your husband for sharing you," I said. "I bet he would love to fuck your ass."

A blush spread on her olive cheeks. "I bet he would, my Lord."

The crowd cheered even louder when I stepped out. The bodyguards swept out, forming a half-circle. 51 hung back, standing a few paces behind me and to my left. Half of the guard carried their AR-15's slung on shoulder slings, their hands resting dangerously on the sleek, black weapons as they scanned the crowd.

"Thank you for coming out today," I shouted. "Sorry for the delay, I had a worshiper to bless." I grinned and a laugh rippled through the crowd. "The number one thing you can do as human beings is to love and respect your fellow humans." I paused a beat. "Love and respect. It sounds simple, but for thousands of years it has seemed impossible to achieve. Human history is ripe with wars, murders, rapes, and atrocities. But today is the first step to rectifying that. We do not need all these guns out on the streets. We do not need them for protection, anymore. That's why we have cops and soldiers. This isn't the Wild West, this is the twenty-first century!"

The crowd roared, buffeting me with sound and I stood firm like the cliff before the pounding sea. On either side of the square, lines were queuing and people were turning their guns over to the Tacoma Police. Men and women; Whites, Blacks, Hispanics, Asians, and Native Americans. For the last week I had been on every local news program, commanding everyone to turn in their guns. Anyone who caught the interviews live would have no choice but to turn in their weapons. Clean-cut businessmen, frumpy soccer moms, grizzled outdoorsmen, and thuggish gangbangers all stood together.

"Today, we take that first step towards utopia!" I shouted.

The crowd's roar was deafening and I took in their support. They kept roaring; I closed my eyes and enjoyed the intoxicating power of the moment. Finally, the cheers died down and I opened my mouth to continue my speech when I heard a low, whoping sound echo through the square. I glanced at 51 and she frowned.

The noise built and built. There was a rhythm to the whoping, a reliable beat. I started scanning the skies, it sounded almost like a helicopter. Maybe a news copter? Or perhaps a police copter? The crowd was growing restless, many looking up, trying to spot the source of the noise.

The helicopter was black, long, and sleek as it burst over the courthouse, flying low. A strong wind slammed down on me from the rotor wash and the crowd cried out as the helicopter banked overhead. There was something sticking out of the sides, long, barrel-shaped objects. Guns, I realized. I recognized the shape of the helicopter from that movie, Black Hawk Down. What was a military helicopter doing here?

A second Black Hawk roared over the crowd, banking to kill its speed, and the pair started hovering at either end of the block by the police barricades. I could only watch dumbfounded as ropes dropped down from the copters and soldiers began sliding down the ropes, M-16's slung on their backs. When they hit the ground they moved quickly, taking cover, and aiming at the police barricades.

I concentrated and saw black auras around the soldiers and my stomach sank.

Thralls!

Every last soldier dominated by a Warlock. My heart hammered in my chest and I shouted into the microphones, speakers amplifying my voice around the stage, "Soldiers from the helicopters, throw down your weapons!"

The soldiers ignored me. Their weapons loudly barked as they fired at the police blockades.

To be continued...

---

The Devil's Pact Chapter 36: The God-King

mypenname3000

Fantasm, Female/Female, Incest, Mind Control, Violence

Introduction:

Mark's rally is attacked by soldiers.

Chapter Thirty-Six: The God-King

Saturday, September 28th, 2013 – Mark Glassner

I watched in stunned horror as the US soldiers opened fire on the Tacoma Police blockading the street in front of the courthouse. The soldiers had just roped out of a pair of hovering Black Hawk helicopters, attacking the police blockading the stretch of Tacoma Avenue in front of the Courthouse. As the soldiers spread out, I shouted orders into the microphone; my voice boomed out of the speakers placed around the square.

The soldiers ignored my commands.

A chill spread through me. They ignored my commands. I could see the black of their auras wreathed in the faintest red. They were Thralls under the protection of the Zimmah ritual, bound to some other Warlock. They were immune to my powers. Exactly the same way we made our family and sluts immune to anyone else's orders.

Fuck! This was very bad!

There was a whirring sound, like a motor revving up, then a terrific roar and a gout of flame erupted from the side of one of the hovering Black Hawks. The mini-gun fired; I watched in horror as its bullets ripped through the police blockade. A second whirring sound built, and the other helicopter opened fire on the opposite police blockade. Golden tracers streaked down, raining death on the Tacoma police officers.

"Sir, let's go!" 51 shouted, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the courthouse.

The crowd in front of the courthouse screamed in panic and ran for cover. My bodyguards formed a protective circle around me, dragging me back into the courthouse. They pulled Violet and Desiree into their circle of protection and herded us through the courthouse. I struggled to think but panic froze my thoughts. Soldiers bound to my enemy were attacking me. I was not prepared for this.

Holy shit! I was not prepared for this!

"Where are we going?" I asked, finally gathering some of my wits.

"The back of the Courthouse, on Yakima Avenue," 51 answered. How did she sound so calm? "We parked the limo and our patrol cars back there, remember?"

"Right," I nodded. We raced through the courthouse and I struggled to think despite the adrenaline that pounded through my veins. We were under attack by US Soldiers. We were not prepared for this. They could be coming for Mary, I realized; my eyes opened with horror.

They could be coming for Mary.

"51, Fallen Eagle!"

51 glanced at me, nodded, and pulled out her Nextel. They were similar to radios, but worked over the cell phone network. All of our bodyguards had one. "51 to all units, Fallen Eagle. I repeat, Fallen Eagle."

Fallen Eagle. The code phrase for the worst case scenario—the hammer is falling and we need to get the hell out of Dodge.

Ever since the Nuns attacked us three months ago, I had been preparing for another attempt. The bodyguards had their instructions to get everyone they could to safety. In Kansas I had a bolthole prepared; a place where we could regroup and figure out how to face this new threat.

"47, copy Fallen Eagle." 47 was with Mary back at the house; she would get my wife to safety.

Squad D reported in with Shannon and George in Chicago. Squads E and F, guarding our planes, also responded. Now we just had to move quickly and we might just be able to escape and figure out how to deal with this new, overwhelming force. We rounded a corner, and I could see the limo idling outside, the passenger door open and Leah waiting nervously, looking up at the sky.

"Hurry!" Leah shouted as we burst outside, beckoning urgently with her arm.

The moment we stepped outside sounds crashed into us. I could hear sirens coming in from every direction. 51 wore a police radio patched into Tacoma PD's network, and I could hear the frantic calls for help from police officers completely outmatched by the soldiers. The roar of helicopters and gunshots echoed through the streets. Shadows passed overhead; I glanced up to see more Black Hawks escorted by smaller helicopters, black against the blue sky.

Holy shit! Did someone take control of the entire fucking army? Holy fucking shit!

I practically threw myself into the limo, followed by a crying Violet and a wild-eyed Desiree, her big tits flopping about as she dived in. Violet clung to me as 51 jumped in. Leah ran around, hopping into the driver seat. With an AR-15 clutched in her hand, 09 jumped into the passenger seat, while 32, also armed with an AR-15 piled in back with us.

*What's going on, Mark?* Mary's thought practically shouted in my mind.

*Soldiers attacked the rally* I sent back, trying to keep my terror out of my sending. *I'm okay; we're in the limo and driving off. The soldiers are Thralls, protected with the Zimmah spell!*

*Oh my god!*

The limo peeled out, following two of our bodyguard's cop cars. Two more followed. They took the left at 9th Street, heading up to the top of the hill and away from the firefight at the courthouse. Relief washed through me as I stared through the rear window. I could see the soldiers at the intersection of 9th and Tacoma Ave, occupying the ruins of the police blockade. None followed us.

I sighed in relief. It looked like we were clear.

Mary Glassner

"Umm, that feels nice, Mom," I moaned as she lapped at my pussy.

I was feeling better after the bout of morning sickness I had. Mom had shown up and we started playing with the fruit Mark had left for me before he went to the gun-buyback rally in Tacoma. I would have gone with him but I had a rough morning. I rubbed my stomach, excited to be pregnant, and hating all the little inconveniences it brought on.

After spending most of the morning vomiting, I decided to skip the rally and take a nap. I woke up refreshed and famished when Mom came in to check up on me. Then we started having so much fun eating strawberries and pussy-cream, and I ate an entire peeled banana out of Mom's cunt. We made a mess, but that's why we had a washing machine.

Mom's tongue felt amazing on my pussy and I was getting closer and closer to an orgasm, when I heard footsteps racing up the stairs. I sat up on my elbows, looking at the bedroom door, frowning. What was going on out there? Mom stopped licking at my pussy, and sat up as the door burst open and 47 raced towards me, her light-brown hair streaming behind her.

"Mam, we need to go right now!" the second-in-command of our bodyguard shouted. "Fallen Eagle!"

My mind went blank with panic. She grabbed my arm and roughly pulled me to my feet. Two more bodyguards were right behind her and one grabbed my mother. She said Fallen Eagle; that was the code used if something really, really bad has happened. Fear clutched at my stomach as 47 tried to pull me out of the room. Oh God, only Mark or I could give that command.

"We need to go, mam!" 47 insisted.

"My locket!" I cried. Fallen Eagle meant that we were abandoning our home. We might never get to come back. I couldn't leave without my locket; Mark gave it to me the day we met. Next to the wedding ring on my finger, it was the most important thing I owned. I ran to my dresser and opened my jewelry box, pulling out the silver heart with the pink rose sculpted on the front. I quickly pulled it over my head to let it dangle between my breasts along with my protection amulet. Then I let 47 drag me out of the room.

I concentrated, using our new communication spell, and sent my panicked thoughts to Mark, *What's going on, Mark?* Mark's reply sent ice flooding through my veins; a Warlock attacked Mark with soldiers bound by the Zimmah ritual. My heart hammered in fear. What could we do against Thralls that we couldn't use our powers on? And he said soldiers. God, that's like the SWAT attack last June on steroids!

We raced out of the house, and the street bustled with activity. Some of the bodyguards were watching vigilantly, AR-15s in their hands, while the rest were herding our family and servants out of their houses and piling them into the fleet of black SUVs we owned. One of the SUVs was waiting in the driveway, and I jumped in along with my mom. Lillian, Xiu, and Korina piled into our SUV and the rest of our sluts piled into a second vehicle.

In just a few minutes, everyone who lived in the neighborhood – our sluts, our families, and our important servants – were loaded into SUVs and we were off. The plan was to drive north, to Boeing Field in Seattle. Our Gulfstream was too well known. Any enemy attacking us was sure to try and seize it or stop us from reaching it. Julius Prescott III, a billionaire we knew, owned a freight airline known as Air-Cargo, and we arranged for a hangar of his at Boeing Field to be set aside to house a 747 airplane. Hopefully, our enemy did not know about this plane.

In five minutes, we were clear of our neighborhood, driving north at breakneck speed. I could hear all sorts of chatter on 47's police radio and on the Nextel. "What's going on?" I asked 47.

"A Police Tactical alert has just been issued," 47 answered. "There are reports of US soldiers setting up roadblocks around Tacoma, and a convoy of Strykers is rolling up 512 towards South Hill. They're running cars off the road, mam."

"Strykers? Those are armored tanks, right?" I asked in fear.

"Armored personnel carriers, mam," 47 corrected. "Not as heavily armored as a tank, but just as dangerous. Squad E has abandoned the Gulfstream. They saw several Black Hawks flying towards Thun Field."

Please let them not know about our other plane, I begged silently. Please!

Brandon Fitzsimmons

"My Lord Fitzsimmons, we've taken the courthouse," Colonel Abbey said.

He was sitting right next to me, but the only reason I could hear him over the roar of the helicopter's rotor was through the chopper's internal intercom. We were in the Command Information Center, or CIC, Black Hawk, hovering high over Tacoma. I was wearing an uncomfortable helmet with headphones over my ears that blocked most of the Black Hawk's rotor noise. Colonel Abbey was the G3, or operations officer, for I Corp and was coordinating the occupation of Tacoma.

"Do you have Mark?" I demanded.

I could almost taste my victory. Mark Glassner would soon be mine along with his wife, Mary. I would make her my concubine, force Mark to watch as his lovely wife became my whore. It was what he deserved for stealing my beautiful Desiree. I looked down at Tacoma, as we flew above it in the Black Hawk. The Army Rangers that had fast-roped into Tacoma were surrounding the courthouse as the Stryker Brigade barreled down the freeway to secure the city.

The main part of Tacoma was built on a peninsula that jutted out into Puget Sound. There were about a dozen roads that crossed the Nalley Valley that separated the peninsula from the mainland. If those streets were blockaded, the city would be cut in half and trap anyone on the peninsula, including Mark if he managed to escape the courthouse.

"My Lord, Chalk 2 reports a limo heading west on 9th Street with a police escort," Colonel Abbey reported after a minute. If I remembered the briefing correctly, a chalk was a group of rangers deployed out of the same helicopter. Chalk 2 was tasked with taking the intersection of 9th Street and Tacoma Avenue.

"Damn it," I snarled. "I want that limo stopped and everyone inside captured."

"Absolutely, my Lord," Colonel Abbey replied. "Bandit 1 and Bandit 3, do you have eyes on a limo heading west from the courthouse?" I couldn't hear the reply; I was only listening to the helicopter's internal comms, not the battle comms. Colonel Abbey nodded. "Disable the vehicle and provide support. Raider 3, head west and drop your chalk on that vehicle."

Bandits were the Little Birds, small, agile helicopters armed with mini-guns that were quite deadly in urban operations. Raiders were the Black Hawks carrying a chalk of Rangers. Mark wouldn't stand a chance, I thought with a smile.

Mark Glassner

The limo bounced around on Tacoma's streets. The city had lost the war against potholes years ago, and the streets grew worse and worse every year. Leah must be doing nearly sixty as we raced away from the courthouse, and we were being thrown about in the back.

"Hold on!" Leah shouted, braking hard, and then the limo made a sharp turn onto Sprague Avenue and we were racing south.

Violet still clung to me, sobbing into my chest. "Shh, it'll be alright," I told her, stroking her brown hair. Though I wish I could believe that.

I heard the roar of a helicopter and I started looking up at the sky in fear. Violet buried her face into my chest at the sound. "Shit, it's in front of us!" Leah shouted.

I bent down to look out the front of the limo and saw streaks of yellow raining down from the sky. Tracers, I realized, as the lead cop car seemed to explode in sparks, and careened off to the side of the road. The second cop car tried to swerve; a torrent of bullets shredded its trunk. The tracers marched quickly towards us; it sounded like heavy rain as the bullets struck the limo's armor. The windshield splintered. Desiree was engulfed by blue light as her amulet deflected a bullet. The limo swerved suddenly to the left. There was the sound of metal crunching and I was flung forward, my seatbelt digging into my chest and waist.

What the fuck just happened? My mind was fuzzy and I groaned in pain. "We need to move," someone shouted.

"Leah's shot!" another person shouted.

"Shit!" Someone was shaking me. "Sir, we need to move!"

A Black woman's face hovered in front of me, urgently speaking to me. It took me a moment to realize it was 51 and I blinked, looking around. There were dents and holes in the roof of my armored limo. In the front seat I saw Leah slumped over the steering wheel, blood staining her back. The bodyguard in the passenger seat was struggling to open the passenger door. 51 pulled out her folding knife and quickly cut my jammed seatbelt.

"Leah," I shouted, climbing across the limo and grabbing her. I concentrated on her being healed, and whispered, "Tsariy," and red light engulfed her body. She convulsed. When the scarlet light faded, she sat upright, perfectly healed. Around her neck, the bronze amulet smoked, the protection spell overwhelmed by the helicopter's mini-guns.

"We need to go, sir!" 51 shouted, grabbing me and pulling me out of the limo.

We had crashed into a traffic light, the metal pole bent and fallen across the top of the limo. The hood was torn to pieces and white smoke curled serpentine up into the air from the engine block. Metal scars and pockmarks littered the body of the limo where the armor had withstood the mini-gun's fire. I looked for our escorts and saw the twisted remains of the four cars. The helicopter's guns had shredded them into mangled mockeries of a car.

Two bodyguards were crawling out of the mangled mockeries – their amulets must have saved their lives – but the other four must be lying dead or dying in the wreckage of their cars. I started to run for the nearest one when 51 grabbed me and pointed up at the sky. Two small helicopters, both of which had large mini-guns slung on their sides by the landing skids, were banking around, and beyond them a Black Hawk was swooping towards us.

"Leah, Violet, and Desiree, scatter!" I shouted. "They're after me, you might get away!"

09 led, running with her AR-15 out, heading down an alley between two buildings. I followed, 51 and 32 on either side with 18 and 27, the two survivors from the escorts, bringing up the rear. The downdraft from the Black Hawk slammed into us and kicked up stinging dust as it banked overhead. I saw the rope drop out the side of the helicopter; the soldiers began deploying.

"Shit!" 51 shouted. "Back, back!"

We turned and saw one of the small helicopters hovering at the mouth of the alley, cutting us off. There was a fence and someone's yard to the right and I jumped, grabbing the top and easily hauling myself over. I was never more thankful for getting the Gift from Tiffany than right now. It gave me increased physical strength and stamina, and I was going to need every advantage I had to survive this.

51 followed me over the fence. Gunfire rang out and 32 was halfway over when a bullet bounced off her shielding. She made it over as the fence splintered from the gunfire. I could hear the remaining bodyguards returning fire in the alleyway, buying us time.

"Keep running!" 51 shouted.

I ran across the yard, glancing over my shoulder to see that damned helicopter dogging our steps. The pilot must be radioing our position. I reached the opposite fence, jumping up and quickly scrambling over. As I lowered myself on the other side, I froze. 32 had stopped, and was kneeling in the middle of the yard, aiming her AR-15 at the small helicopter. She started carefully firing at it, rounds striking the windshield of the helicopter. It pivoted smoothly, lining up its guns at 32.

"Run!" I shouted as 51 scrambled over the fence. "Run, 32!"

She ignored me. The only time the bodyguards could ignore my orders was to protect my life. Fire spat from the helicopter, clods of dirt exploded around 32. She kept calmly firing. Blue energy sprang up around her as the rounds struck her protective charms. For a second I thought she was going to be fine, then the spell was overwhelmed and the bullets ripped through her body.

One of her rounds must have hit something important, because the helicopter started pitching to the side. I could see the pilot inside struggling with the yoke. The copter drifted closer and closer to a tree. Branches flew as the blades dipped in, and then there was a woody thunk and a loud, splintering sound. The rotor blades disintegrated, throwing debris everywhere. The chopper spun in the air and slammed into a shed with a satisfying crunch of metal.

I started to climb back over; if I reached 32 before she died I could heal her. "She's dead, sir," 51 said as she grabbed my arm. "You're not. Do not let her death be in vain."

I cursed, and let go of the fence. We were out on a side-street and we could hear booted feet approaching. We cut diagonally across the street, racing for a small, brown house with a mossy roof. There were several cracking pops from behind us; suddenly everything around me went blue. My amulet just stopped a round, I realized. Adrenaline was screaming through my veins. There were more gunshots; I could hear bullets whizzing past and blue erupted around me a second time, a third time.

"Shit, the car!" I shouted, pointing at the beat up, gray Plymouth with red primer staining the hood. "The amulets won't take much more gunfire!"

I slid down behind the Plymouth as gunfire pounded against the car; glass shattered and metal pinged with every bullet strike. My heart was hammering. I risked a glance around the car and saw the soldiers at the corner. Several were firing at us while others dashed across the street. Fire and maneuver, I think it was called. 51 shot back with her 9mm service pistol and the soldiers hit the dirt and returned fire, and 51's amulet deflected two rounds.

I didn't see an escape. There was no cover for twenty or more feet and there were just too many soldiers. *Mary, I love you* I sent. *I don't think I'm getting out of this one.*

*No! I can't lose you, Mark!*

I swallowed. There was only one hope. Tiffany said Monks were fighters, that their powers were combat oriented. I was as physically strong as a man could be, with quick reflexes. If I charged them, maybe somehow I could defeat them. I hoped that the amulet might sustain a few more shots. I readied myself, took a deep breath, and burst out from the car and ran as fast as I possibly could, as fast as any Olympic sprinter. The distance between me and the soldiers disappeared rapidly.

The soldiers were startled by my sudden charge, but their training took over and they opened fire. The world turned blue about me as the amulet deflected another shot, and then I was on the first soldier. He rose, bracing himself as I slammed into him. He fell back hard, and I nearly lost my balance and fell with him. A second soldier leapt at me; we grappled.

I was stronger than the soldier, more agile, but I lacked any training. I didn't know how to fight. The soldier did. I pushed him off of me and took a clumsy swing at his face. He easily grabbed my arm, did something with his hip, and I was flipping over him and falling on my back. I grunted, the wind knocked out of my lungs. The soldier pulled out his knife, and before I could react, it was pressed against my throat.

I froze.

Mary Glassner

*I'm captured, Mare* Mark sent me, *keep going. The Nextels are going to be compromised now. Keep going, be safe! I love you.*

No, no, no! This couldn't be happening. *I'll save you, somehow!* I thought back. *We're racing to the airport. Just hang in there. I love you!*

"47," I said, trying to keep my voice from cracking. "Mark is captured. The Nextels are probably compromised."

"I understand, mam," 47 replied. Her hand shook as she picked up her Nextel. "47 to all units, communications no longer secure. I repeat, communications not secure."

Then she tossed her Nextel out the window.

Mark was captured. My mom wrapped her arms around me, holding me to her and suddenly all my emotions were pouring out of me as I sobbed into her breast. She stroked my hair and rocked me gently, just like she did when I was a child.

"Oh, Mom, what am I going to do?" I cried.

"I don't know," she whispered. "We will figure it out."

In thirty minutes we reached Boeing field; I sobbed the entire way. We passed through the security gates and raced to the hanger. Our flight crew was waiting. Once we bought this plane, we moved our pilots, Joslyn and Lydia, here just in case.

Lydia was waiting outside for us. "Miss," she greeted, her face pale with fright. Like all our close employees, Joslyn and Lydia were bound to Mark with the Zimmah ritual. "What is going on?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but more tears leaked out of my eyes and I couldn't bring myself to say what happened. Mark was captured. What was I going to do? I just climbed on board and sat down in First Class, pressing my face to the cold window.

*I love you, Mark* I thought to him. *Stay strong! I will find a way to save you.* I just wished I believed myself.

*Love you* Mark sent back and I could feel his fear.

Everyone else was boarding. Mark's mom Sandy squeezed my shoulder before she found a seat next to Betty, her girlfriend. My Dad and Mom sat next to each other. Mom was still naked from our lovemaking. Hell, I was too. There hadn't been time to get dressed. All I had on was my wedding ring, my locket, and my protective amulet.

"It'll be all right," Missy, my younger sister, promised. She grabbed my hand, squeezed it, then leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. Then she sat down next to her boyfriend Damien.

Mark's sister Antsy and her girlfriend Via were the last of our family to board. Only Shannon and her fiancee were missing. But they were in Chicago attending a conference for George's job. The sluts boarded next and Lillian sat next to me and hugged me.

"It will be okay, Mistress," she whispered. I wished I could believe her.

We waited for Squad E. They managed to get clear of Thun Field ahead of those soldiers and arrived fifteen minutes after we did, piling into the plane. Lydia closed and sealed the door, then sat down in the cockpit. We started taxiing to the runway. The engines revved and roared louder and louder as the pilots throttled up for takeoff. Then I was shoved back into my seat, and my stomach sank as the plane raced down the runway and leaped into the air.

*We're in the air, Mark* I sent to him. *Your mom and Antsy are with me.*

*Good!* I could feel the relief in his thought. He was worried about me. I wanted to cry again. Why should he be worried? I wasn't the one captured by our enemy. The plane banked, turning to take us to Kansas and the decommissioned missile silo that was our emergency bunker.

Mark Glassner

I felt relief wash through me. Mary and my family were safe; that was one less thing to worry about.

I lay facedown on the street, a soldier's boot pressed into the back of my neck, the cold barrel of his M16 touching my cheek. My hands were zip-tied behind my back, a disgusting rag was shoved into my mouth and tied in place by a strip of cloth wrapped around my head. 51 lay next to me; the butt of a rifle had slammed into her face, opening a gash across her eyebrow.

"Up!" a soldier shouted and the one standing on my neck released me and hauled me to my feet.

Several tan Humvees rolled up. I saw 27 in the backseat of one of the Humvees and Desiree sat next to her. But I didn't see Violet or Leah. Maybe they got away? Unless they were dead. I pushed that thought away as they forced me into the second Humvee. 51 was pushed in after me, her body leaning up against me. There was a dazed look in her eyes.

The Humvee drove off, heading back down to the courthouse. We passed columns of big, bulky armored vehicles bristling with weapons. Strykers, I think they were called, carrying infantry. More soldiers were guarding intersections; one would be manning a .50 cal machine gun while two more stood by holding M16s. Then we passed the wreckage of the firefight in front of the courthouse. Some of the soldiers were clearing away the shot up police cruisers, while others carried bodies to a waiting truck. And it wasn't only dead police officers they carried, but civilians attending the gun-buyback that had gotten caught in the crossfire.

More civilians were sitting on their hands in the square before the Courthouse, watched over by dozens of soldiers. Some of the crowd looked scared, others were bewildered. They couldn't believe that US Soldiers would attack them. That didn't happen in America. That happened off overseas in some despotic country like Syria or North Korea. Not here. Not in America. A few had defiant looks on their faces, staring angrily at the Soldiers. Off to the side, the media were guarded by more soldiers, but they were being allowed to continue reporting. I could see all the cameras pointing at our convoy of Humvees, ready to broadcast my humiliation to the world.

And probably my execution, I thought bleakly.

The Humvees stopped in front of the courthouse, the door opened, and a soldier hauled me out. I saw his face. He was young, maybe eighteen, his eyes bright blue. There was a hard cast to his youthful features, his grip iron on my arm as he pushed me forward. I stood up straight as the eyes of the captured civilians fell on me. Shock and horror filled the faces of those that believed I was a God, then despair filled their eyes.

Guilt filled me. I had let them down. I wasn't strong enough to protect them. But what could I do against an army? My greatest power was nullified by the Zimmah ritual. How could a Warlock put so many under his power? Every soldier I saw had their black aura fringed with a trace of red, the sign that they were bound by the spell. What could I do? What could Mary do? Despair crashed through my soul.

How was I getting out of this?

As we approached the courthouse the doors opened and a short, fat man in an expensive Italian suit, charcoal gray, stepped out. He was balding, his hair gray, and a look of triumph filled his eyes. I recognized him, Brandon Fitzsimmons. How the hell had Brandon bound anyone with the Zimmah spell? His mother was dead. A male Warlock needed his mother to perform the spell.

Brandon wasn't alone. Flanking him were two women, scantily clad, that could almost be Mary's long lost sisters. They were twins, with auburn hair and green eyes, and Mary's heart-shaped face.

"Kneel before your God!" the soldier leading me barked and kicked me in the back of the knee. My leg folded out from under me and I fell painfully to my knees.

Brandon stepped up to the microphone. "I am Brandon Fitzsimmons!" his voice boomed through the speakers. "I have defeated the false God, Mark Glassner!" He paused, his words echoing through the air. "I am your God and King! Worship me! Obey me!"

I could hear the crowd behind me change as his commands sank in. I glanced behind me to see all the fear, the despair, the anger, melt away and awe replace it. They all had black auras and I could just make out a fringe of red. It was even worse than I could have imagined. He somehow was binding people to him without using the spell, just by speaking. I was immune to his powers; one of the benefits of the Gift.

*Mary, the Warlock is Brandon Fitzsimmons. Do not listen to anything he says. You cannot afford to fall under his power. His words bind people with the Zimmah spell.*

I let Brandon's speech roll over me as Mary's reply came back, *What am I going to do, Mark? I need you. I feel like I'm falling apart.*

*You have to be strong, Mare* I told her.

*How?*

*You're the only hope we have. I need you. I love you. I know you can be strong! I believe in you!* I had to. She was the only hope I had. And only if Brandon didn't immediately execute me.

*Why are you comforting me? I'm the one who's safe. I should be comforting you.* I could sense that she was calming down. *I will find a way to save you, Mark. I promise!*

Brandon was standing in front of me, I realized, and I defiantly stared up at him. "You're immune to my powers, I see," Brandon grimaced, then glanced at Desiree. "And my wife, too."

"I'm not your wife anymore," Desiree snarled. "I dumped you for someone better."

Brandon smacked her with the back of his hand. "Quiet, woman. I'll deal with you soon enough." He turned to one of the soldiers, "Where's his wife?"

"My Lord, two women escaped in the confusion, we are hunting them down," the soldier reported. "I do not think either is Mary. Both appeared to be brunettes."

"Dammit," Brandon hissed. "Did you secure that Gulfstream of his at least?"

"Yes, My Lord," an older soldier reported. He had eagles on his uniform so I think that made him a Colonel.

Brandon smiled, "Good, they're trapped in the state. Our troops are heading for the passes?" The soldier nodded. He must mean the passes over the Cascade Mountains to Eastern Washington. "What about his house? Did you find anyone there?"

"Empty, my Lord," the Colonel reported. "We missed everyone. The entire neighborhood was packed up."

"Fuck! Burn the neighborhood," Brandon ordered. "And that damned tent where his worshipers meet. Kill any who resist. Find where his servants went! You'll find his wife with them."

"Yes, my Lord," the Colonel saluted.

Brandon turned to the crowd and took a microphone from one of the auburn-haired twins. "Here is your false God!" A boo rose up from the crowd. Just an hour ago these people cheered me; I never realized just how frightening my powers were. "He is only flesh and blood! He is weak and was defeated by the merest fraction of my power. Let me show you just how weak and human he really is!" He motioned to the soldiers.

The gag was cut off and two soldiers grabbed my head, prying my lips open. I fought, struggling to get free of their grasp, to close my mouth. A third soldier drew a knife. I struggled harder. What were they doing? I fought in vain to break free, to keep that glinting knife away from me. The third soldier forced his dirty fingers into my mouth, gripping my tongue. The blade flashed and blood filled my mouth.

"Master!" Desiree cried out, barely heard over the crowd's roar.

Disbelief almost drowned out the pain. They had cut my tongue off! How could I use any of my powers without my tongue? I was thrown down onto my back; then the kicking started. Pain exploded in my back, my stomach, my legs. I curled up into a ball, trying to protect myself as booted foot after booted foot slammed into me.

I howled wordlessly in agony.

Over the pain, I heard Brandon's voice roar, "Mary Glassner! Your husband will be abused day and night until you turn yourself in. Submit to me and be my concubine, and your husband shall go free!"

Mary Glassner

I was sitting in first class alone, save for my mom and little sister. I couldn't stand everyone looking at me so I ordered them back to coach. Mom and Missy ignored me, sitting with me and holding my hands. Back in coach, they were watching the news. I was the only one that couldn't watch it, the only one who couldn't watch to see what was happening to my husband. Everyone on the plane but me was bound by the Zimmah ritual. I was the only one susceptible to Brandon's power, and I could not afford to get bound to him.

I needed to be strong, for Mark, for our family. We were all dead if Mark died. My life was tied to his, our loved ones' lives tied to ours. It all rested on my shoulders, and I felt like I was about to be crushed beneath the weight. How could I bear all this responsibility? I was only nineteen, barely an adult. My shoulders were just too slim to support this weight!

I thought of Mark, his boyish grin and deep-blue eyes. Mark needs me to be strong, to save him. I couldn't afford to wallow in self-pity. I pushed at the despair, forcing it back. We were all lost if I fell apart. There had to be a way out of this. Just stay calm and think, Mary.

But I couldn't!

My mind kept drifting back to Mark. I would struggle, trying to focus, and an image of Mark being hit would fill my mind. Of Mark placed before a firing squad, shot dead. Of Mark getting hung. I would force the images away, and even worse ones would slip into my mind.

Dad walked up from coach, his presence dragging me out of my morbid thoughts. He looked haggard as he gazed at me. He swallowed, then opened his mouth, like he wanted to say something, but he hesitated. His long, red hair, streaked with gray, fell loosely about his shoulders, not pulled back into his usual ponytail. My stomach sank. "What, Dad?" I wearily asked.

"Mark's on TV," Dad said. "They're beating him."

"What else?" I asked, sensing Dad was holding back on me.

"You can't go back," Dad firmly told me.

"I know," I said sadly.

"This Brandon, he says Mark will be beaten day and night until you surrender yourself to him and be his concubine."

I felt hysteria bubbling up inside me, almost bursting out in a laugh. Of course; he wants to do to me what we did to Desiree. Mark humiliated Brandon that day, took his wife in front of him. He wants revenge.

*Mark, I am going to save you!* I sent, mustering all my confidence and determination.

*I'm fine. Do not turn yourself in. I can take it.* I could feel his pain; I wanted to cry, but I had done enough of that.

*I won't. I'm going to save you, somehow. Be strong, Mark!* I looked at Dad, and ordered, "Get Sam." I felt a steely resolve growing inside me; I will save Mark. We had the Book, the Magicks of the Witch of Endor. The answer must be in there, somewhere. A way to neutralize Brandon's powers or give me more power or something.

President Baumgarten

"Mr. President," Eustace Smyth, my Chief of Staff, said, holding up the phone. "He wants to speak with you."

I frowned, watching the TV. They were still beating the despicable Mark Glassner. For the last few months my cabinet and I had argued what to do about him. He was a dangerous man, somehow corrupting anyone that came into contact with him. My cabinet was split; some championed Mark and his sexual politics, others thought he was the most dangerous threat to the US since the war of 1812, and should be assassinated. But that was illegal. I was the President of the United States, sworn to uphold the Constitution, sworn to obey the laws. I would not, could not, approve assassinating a US Citizen.

"Who's on the phone?" I asked. The world had changed today. My new God, Brandon Fitzsimmons, had finally overthrown the false God Mark and was hunting down his wife, Mary.

"Him," Eustace said with emphasis and I finally understood.

I snatched the phone from him. The moment Brandon had spoken during his press conference, it all became suddenly clear. Brandon was the true God and had soundly defeated the false one. No, Brandon wasn't a God, he was the God.

My God.

"This is the President, my Lord," I respectfully said.

I found myself to be suddenly nervous as I spoke to an actual God. I've spoken to almost every Head of State on the planet, knowing every time that I was more powerful than any of them. For the first time since I was elected President of the United States, I was the lesser power.

It was humbling.

"You shall fly to Tacoma with your cabinet and surrender the Country to me," my God ordered.

"Absolutely, my Lord," I answered. The phone clicked as my God hung up on me.

I was going to meet my God in person. I never thought it would happen while I was alive.

Mark Glassner

The beating seemed to go on for an eternity. An eternity of pain and suffering. This must be hell, I thought with bleak amusement. I sold my soul and my punishment was to be beaten by the followers of a man I wronged.

It was poetic.

I had used my powers for my own pleasures, not caring about the lives I hurt or destroyed. Mary was right to free our slaves, and to tell me not to break up relationships just because I was horny or feeling vindictive. I needed to be responsible with my powers.

I passed out sometime during the beating. The pain brought me back to consciousness. I lay on something hard, cold; the agony slowed my mind. I fought through the fog, struggling to move, to survey my surroundings. Metal clinked, digging into my wrists and ankles; they had manacled me hand and foot, and dumped me onto the floor of a jail cell. Two soldiers stood outside the bars, M16s grasped in their hands, uncaring eyes fixed on me, like I was an insect in a collection, pinned to a piece of cork.

My mouth was parched, and I spotted a sink. I struggled to move, desperate for water. The pain was excruciating just stretching my legs, the metal of the leg irons biting into my ankles, constricting my movement. I did not know why I was still alive. I think it was the Gift; a lesser man surely could not have survived. I grit my teeth, mustered the will to fight through the pain, and pulled myself across the rough floor. The metal sink was above me, and I tried to grab the rim with my right arm, momentarily forgetting the foot of steel manacling my wrists together. Grunting, I pushed myself up onto my knees, then grasped it with both hands, pulling myself up and staring at my reflection in the polished, stainless steel mirror.

My face was a bloody ruin, swollen so badly that I couldn't recognize myself. I opened my mouth and saw the ruins of my teeth and inspected the damage: gums bleeding, shattered molars throbbing in pain, gaps where front teeth were missing. I was naked, I realized, except for the manacles biting into wrists and ankles. I didn't even remember them stripping me naked, and blacks and blues and yellows covered my body. There didn't seem to be any part of me that wasn't bruised.

I cupped cold water in my hands, the chains rattling, and slowly sipped it tenderly, trying not to brush my swollen face. The shooting pain in my broken teeth increased as the cold water poured into my lips. I closed my eyes, and forced myself to keep drinking through the pain. I drank until my stomach felt ready to burst, then I stumbled to the cot.

*We've landed in Kansas* Mary sent me as I curled up on the hard mattress, trying to get comfortable despite the metal restraining me.

*Good. The beatings have stopped. I think I'm going to sleep.*

*I love you! Your filly is going to save you.* There was such certainty in her voice.

*I know you will.* I sent with all the confidence I could muster to her, fighting back my despair. Mary was free. As long as she was, there was still hope. *Love you.*

All I could do was sleep. I was so exhausted. I closed my eyes and started to let sweet unconsciousness take me when I realized something. I had ignored my Gift, wanting nothing to do with the Heavenly Power. I could afford to ignore the power no longer. I concentrated, thinking of the Angel Azrael, as I drifted off into unconsciousness.

Summoning the Angel of Death to my dreams.

Mary Glassner

I stepped off the 747. We were in an airport in the middle of nowhere, Kansas. It was a decommissioned airfield from the Cold War called Osage Field. It was used to service Atlas E Missile Silos before they were decommissioned. Exactly like the missile silo we bought that was only a few minutes drive from here. Our bolthole. We used George to purchase all of this, under the cover of his frequent business trips.

A burly man with an MP5 awaited us, along with several women. More burly men guarded the perimeter. The man was Duncan Barber, one of the SWAT officers that attacked us back in June. He wasn't to blame for the attack; none of the SWAT officers were to blame. They were under the Nuns' control. Three of them had died, but the other nine had lived. Mark gave them the choice to go to prison or he could fake their deaths and put them to work. They chose freedom and work. So Mark and I fixed their broken relationships – it was our fault that they were broken – and relocated them and their families out here.

"Mam," Duncan said. His aura was black, fringed with red. Everyone at this airfield and the missile silo were bound to Mark by the Zimmah ritual. This place was just too important to let anyone know about it, unless they were bound to us.

"Is it as bad as it seems, mam?" Kathanne asked. She was Duncan's wife.

"Yes," I sighed.

"What are you going to do, mam?" Duncan asked as he escorted me to the waiting SUV.

"I don't know," I wearily said. Sam and I dug into her translation of the Book, looking for some way to neutralize Brandon's powers, or break the control he was exerting on people.

"Shame we don't have a Nun," Duncan said. "Isn't Warlocks what they specialize in defeating?"

I stopped, looking at him. That was it, we needed a Nun.

"Sam, you said there was a spell that would allow a Warlock to steal a Nun's powers?" I asked, hope blossoming in my chest.

"Yes, mam. The, um, Ganubath ritual," Sam answered. "You need to find a Nun and capture her." A smile appeared on Sam's face, but it quickly vanished. "Where are you going to find one, though?"

I grinned at her. I knew only one place in the world that you could find a Nun. "Fuel the plane!" I snapped. "We need to leave as soon as we cast the Naba ritual." I glanced at Sam and she swallowed.

"I'll get started right away, mam," she answered, her face pale.

I would be scared, too. It was dangerous to summon the dead.

To be continued...

---

The Devil's Pact Chapter 37: Mary Magdalene

mypenname3000

Fantasm, Female / Girl, Female/Female, Humiliation, Male Domination, Male/Female, Mind Control, Monster, Rape, Sado-Masochism, Violence

Introduction:

Brandon has captured Mark, and Mary has a desperate plan to save him.

Violet Matheson – Tacoma, WA

"Leah, Violet, and Desiree, scatter!" Master shouted. "They're after me, you might get away!"

I looked one last time at Master, drinking in his form, then turned and ran as fast as I could from the wreckage. My heart thudded in terror. Behind me, gunfire erupted and I shrieked loudly. Please be okay, Master! Please! I pumped my legs as hard as I could, my lungs burning with exertion. I had never run so fast, so hard in my life.

But I couldn't keep it up. After running six blocks my legs felt like solid lead and my sides ached. I just had to stop, bending over to grab my knees while I tried to catch my breath. Sweat poured off my forehead, stinging my eyes; I wiped it away with the back of my hand.

"We have to keep moving, Violet!" Desiree panted. I jumped, glancing behind me. I didn't even realize that my slut-sister had been running with me. "They're coming!"

I glanced behind me and saw soldiers in brown camo running down the street. They were still two blocks away and covering the ground fast. We were in a residential neighborhood; old houses, most looking run down, crowded the street while the residents stood on their porches watching both us and the soldiers in confused amusement.

"There!" Desiree pointed at a barely-paved alleyway and took off sprinting.

Fear gave me a second wind and I chased after her. She crashed through a gate in a chain-link fence, the metal rattling, and I was right on her tail. We ran down the side of a house and came out on the next street up. There was a loud, crashing sound of metal splintering wood off in the distance where Master was.

Stay safe, Master, I prayed. Please stay safe!

We cut across the street into another yard, through a gate in the picket fence, the white paint peeling, exposing grayish wood. Running down the side of the house into the backyard, my sides were killing me and I felt like throwing up. My thin top was wet with sweat, sticking to my boobs. Desiree marched up to a clothesline and ripped down a dress.

"We need to change," Desiree panted, her nut-brown skin flushed with exertion. "We stand out too much dressed like this."

I flushed; the tube-top I was wearing was so tight, it was practically a second skin, and my sweat made the red material slightly transparent exposing my nipples and areolas completely. I took the dress from Desiree and pulled it over my head. It was too big for me, the skirt fell down way past my knees. I felt like I wore a tent it was so loose and baggy, so unlike the tight clothes I had grown used to wearing since I met Master.

There was a crashing sound and I turned to see two soldiers walking down the side of the house, aiming their big rifles. Desiree froze for a moment, a second dress in her hand. She glance once at me, smiled, then took off running towards the other side of the house, shouting loudly. The soldiers cursed and chased after her, leaving me frozen in the backyard.

You need to move, Violet. She drew them off so you could escape. So keep moving! Find someplace to hide. There was a back gate that led out into another alley. I ran through it, and looked around the alley, trying to regain my breath. I heard booted footsteps and ducked behind an olive-green, plastic trashcan, trembling as I hid. I curled up into a ball, sobbing silently. My muscles were cramping and I started to shake.

This could not be happening. This was worse then when the SWAT team attacked us last June. I just wanted to stay where I was, hiding behind the trashcan. I didn't ever want to leave. I didn't care that it smelled bad, or that the gravel was sharp and poked my side. It was safe. I was safe. Please, please don't find me!

"Save me, Master," I whispered, clutching at the choker about my neck. "Please come save me, Master."

Gravel crunched and I jumped. Someone was approaching. I curled up as tight as I could, taking only the shallowest of breaths. My heart was hammering loudly in my chest. They're going to hear my heart thundering away, I realized with fear. It's so loud. Fresh terror surged through me, driving my heart to beat louder and louder. Please stop beating so loud! But my heart ignored me and kept hammering away.

The footsteps drew closer; I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn't want to see what was coming. More gravel scraped and crunched as they drew closer; the soldiers were almost to my hiding spot. I'm going to get captured. My heart was beating so hard I thought it was going to burst right out of my chest. The crunching footsteps were right next to me. I was found, they had caught me. I tensed, waiting for the blow to be struck, the bullet to be fired.

Instead it was the lightest of touch.

Cautiously, I cracked my eyes open to see a young woman smiling down at me with warm, blue eyes and a friendly smile. She held out her hand and relief flooded through me. I wasn't caught. I hesitantly uncurled, grasped her hand, and she gently helped me to my feet. I hugged her gratefully, tears running down my face. I wasn't caught!

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," I whispered over and over.

She just held me for a moment, not answering, then led me into her house.

Mary Glassner – Osage Field, Kansas

I sat facing Sam across the hole, the September sun warm on my back as it sank towards the western horizon.

The hole was a few feet deep, dug by Duncan and the other former SWAT officers. We were in a grassy field next to one of the runways at Osage Field, the decommissioned Cold War airbase in the middle of nowhere, Kansas, that Mark and I had purchased. It was our bolthole. Nearby was a Missile Silo, also shut down, converted into a survival bunker. We staffed the airfield with volunteers bound to us with the Zimmah spell: the SWAT Officers who survived the attack last June, their wives and girlfriends, and the Blackwoods. It was nice seeing Belinda and her teenage daughter Cassie again, and I remembered all the fun I had with Mark's jogging sluts last June. Along with Belinda's husband Oscar, the Blackwoods took care of the actual Missile Silo, while the SWAT Officers and their families took care of the airfield and provided security.

All our friends and family paced around the hole or stood in worried knots. Mark's mother and sister looked sick with worry and the sluts all clung around Alison, encouraging the girl that Desiree was safe and she would be reunited with her wife. I saw Rachel and Jacob, our accountants, holding each other. Their wife Leah is our chauffeur and was with Mark when the attack happened. Images of our dead bodyguards were being shown on the news, along with Mark's beating. But there was no news on Leah or Violet. I hoped that meant they escaped, but I feared that they were dead.

"Are we ready," I demanded impatiently of Sam. Every minute we delayed was another minute that my husband was getting beaten.

"Yes," Sam answered. "Light it."

The hole was piled with brush and soaked in gasoline. Duncan lit a rag and tossed it into the pit. The fire had a greasy smell, and a sickly, black smoke that burned my eyes rose up into the sky. Sam closed her eyes, breathing deeply. Her plaything, Candy, sat next to her, holding Sam's olive hand. Sam was our Vizier. She understood all the magic better than anyone, even inventing a few spells and charms all on her own.

I had a plan. I was going to take a Nun's powers and exorcise Brandon. He wanted me. All of his broadcasts contained his threat to beat Mark until I turned myself in. He wanted to make me his slut, just like Mark had made his wife Desiree our slut. All I had to do was submit to his lusts and exorcise him, and then this would all be over.

But I needed to know one important fact—if Brandon had a sister, he could perform the Mowdah spell and be able to recognize my new aura. Right now my aura was red, a Warlock's aura, but after I steal the Nun's Gift of the Spirit, my aura would turn bronze. Just like Mark's had; the aura of a Shaman. The Magicks of the Witch of Endor spoke at great length on aura colors, including the Shaman's. I needed confirmation that my plan would work.

I needed necromancy.

"Spirits of the dead, I beseech you," Sam shouted out, holding her arms above the fire as she began the Naba ritual. It was supposed to be very dangerous. If you conjured the wrong spirit, one filled with violence or hatred, it could lash out and hurt the summoner, and since your life-force sustained the summoning, it placed a great strain on you. If you maintained it too long, you could even die. "Appear before me. Rise once more from the grave and clothe yourself in smoke and fire and give us your counsel!"

The ground groaned in pain and the fire surged upward with a screaming roar. The heat was so intense that it caused me to wince and slam my eyes shut in pain. My skin felt like it was about to blacken beneath the roaring inferno Sam conjured, and my heart hammered in fear. Something had gone wrong, Sam had messed up and unleashed an inferno that is consuming us. Then there was a great, moaning whoosh and the heat vanished.

Everything went still, quiet. Deathly.

The sun no longer felt warm on my back; I felt a growing chill that seemed to seep up from the hole. Cold, clammy air caressed my naked body. I shivered, opening my eyes, to see a figure coalescing out of the thick, black smoke rising up from the depths of the earth. From the depths of Hell.

The smoke was swirling towards the coalescing shape, thickening it. A torso grew, sprouting arms and legs like tendrils from a vine. A dome appeared, swelling up into a head. The smoke kept swirling in and the billowy figure grew more and more solid. The lines of a body started to appear, legs grew firm and slim, hips narrowed, and the hint of a bosom formed. Wispy hair sprouted curly from the head and the features of the face grew more defined, a doll's face with plump lips.

My heart froze, I knew that face.

My eyes watered in grief as Karen spoke, "Hello, Mistress." Her voice was soft, distant. Ethereal. It was like she was shouting from a thousand miles away, a million miles. Farther away than the Moon, the Sun, all the stars in the heavens. It seemed that all of existence lay between us, a vast gulf that her voice was somehow just able to cross.

"Karen," my voice broke; tears rolled wet down my cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Karen."

"Don't be, Mistress," Karen whispered. "It was not your fault. That vile creature tricked you."

"Are you in pain? Does it hurt where you are?"

She smiled softly. "No, Mistress. Chasity and the others wait with me."

"What are you waiting for?"

"Why for you and Master, of course. Even in death, we are yours. Always yours." Her gray, smokey hand reached out and cupped my face, wiping at my tears. "Master needs you. So how can I help?"

"Does Brandon Fitzsimmons have a sister?"

"No, just a brother," Karen answered.

Relief flooded through me. This was going to work! "Is the Mother Superior at Rennes-le-Château?"

"She is, Mistress," Karen answered. "Alone and waiting for you."

My heart skipped a beat. "She's waiting for me?"

"For two thousand years she has waited for you, Mistress," Karen paused. "Momentous things are happening. Lucifer has driven his enemies from the field and now he waits as his prison crumbles about him. Dark days lie ahead of you."

"I don't care, I just need to save Mark!" I cried.

"Sam is nearing the limits of her strength. Ask quickly!" Karen urged.

"Is there anything else I need to know?" I asked. "Something I haven't thought of?"

"Brandon has..." Sam screamed, loud and sudden, drowned out Karen's words. "...other."

"What did you say?" I asked as the smoke started to drift apart, the form vanishing into a billowing cloud that rose up to the heavens.

Karen was gone.

Sam collapsed on the ground, twitching, blood trickling from her nose. I should be concerned for her, but all I could think about were Karen's words. Brandon has what? An other? That didn't make sense. A mother, maybe? He somehow found the way to bind anyone that heard him speak with the Zimmah spell. Maybe it involved his mother somehow. A male Warlock needs to use his mother to bind someone. I frowned. No, that could not be right? His mother was dead. Our investigation into Brandon revealed that. It's why we didn't think of him as a threat.

"Ma'am, the plane is fueled," Lynda, one of our pilots, said.

"Let's go," I said, pushing aside those questions. Mark was in too much danger to waste a second.

My mom caught my arm as I walked by. "She's a legend, the Mother Superior. You heard Karen, she's waiting for you. Don't do this."

"I have to, Mom," I said, shaking my arm from hers. "There is no other choice."

"Please, Mary," my mom begged.

I hugged her. "It will be okay. She's alone. I will have thirty armed men and women with me. I will be perfectly safe. I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, sweetheart," Mom whispered and kissed my cheek.

Dad gave me a hug and kissed me on my forehead. "You can do it, Mary. I know you can. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks, Dad," I whispered, fighting back tears.

Sam was standing up, looking shaky, as Candy held a cloth to her bleeding nose. For a moment I thought I saw anger in Candy's eyes as she helped Sam. I was about to say something when Missy ran up and hugged me fiercely. "Good luck, sis!" she said and kissed me on the lips.

"You watch out for Mom and Dad," I told her and ruffled her strawberry-blonde hair. I glanced back at Candy and I only saw concern for Sam on her face. Did I even see any anger?

"You can count on me, Mary!" Missy exclaimed.

I walked to the 747. I planned on taking all twenty-one of the bodyguards and the nine SWAT officers. It would leave all my loved ones unprotected, but none of that mattered if I couldn't save Mark in time. I took one last look at all our friends and family before the hatch was closed. I walked to my seat and strapped in. My thoughts were full of worry over what Karen had tried to tell me. I focused, trying to remember how her lips were moving, trying to figure out what Sam's scream had drowned out.

I had a long flight to France to ponder it.

Desiree de la Fuentes – Tacoma, WA

Being captured wasn't what I thought it would be.

After being forced to watch my ex-husband order Master's brutal beating, I was taken to the showers in the the jail next-door to the courthouse. Two female soldiers, one tall with a plain face and the other short and stocky, stripped me naked and shoved me in with a bar of soap and shampoo. As the warm water sprayed on my sore body, I wondered if I would ever see my wife again.

I leaned forward against the tiled wall, and my body shook with silent sobs. I desperately wanted to see my slutty Alison again. I pictured her mischievous face framed by her bubblegum hair, her tongue running over her lush lips, silver glinting off her tongue-piercing. Master gave the distress call; Alison should be far away, safe wherever the bolthole was.

Safe with Mistress.

"You're clean," Plain-Face barked. "Let's go. We need to get you ready for Him."

I shuddered; the woman said 'him' with such a worshipful manner. I had heard Brandon's pronouncement—he claimed he was a God now. As if he could even compare to Master, I thought with derision. The women handed me a black dress to wear. It was similar to one Brandon bought me before Mark claimed me, low cut and tight, showing off all of my body's ample assets.

"Take off the choker," Stocky ordered.

"No," I said with defiance. I am Mark's slut!

Stocky just reached out and yanked it off my neck, snapping the clasp. I wanted to cry. Instead, I glared icily at the woman who pocketed my choker. She handed me a jewelry box that contained a pearl necklace and I knocked it to the floor.

"Don't make us hurt you," she threatened as she picked up the box.

Grinding my teeth, I took the necklace and placed it about my throat. They hadn't noticed my wedding ring, and as we walked through the jail, I quickly pulled it off my left hand and slipped it onto my right. They took the symbol of my voluntary slavery and I wasn't about to lose the symbol of my love for Alison.

The soldiers marched me through the jail. We constantly had to stop to let security gates be buzzed open. Everyone manning the prison was a soldier. There were bloodstains dotting the walls and empty shell casings littering the floor. And not all the gates had to be buzzed open, some lay twisted and blackened from explosives. As we walked, I realized there was no-one making cat-calls at me. The cells were empty.

"Where are all the prisoners?" I asked, unnerved by the empty cells.

"Executed," Plain-Face answered. "His orders."

My blood chilled. I wondered what had happened to Brandon. I never loved him, but he wasn't an evil man. Right? He always seemed nice and attentive. He had a temper, sure, but I was having trouble reconciling the man I married and the monster that appeared today. Stocky prodded me and I realized that I had frozen in my tracks. Swallowing, I started walking forward again.

Was he always a monster and I just never saw it in him?

They led me out to the exercise yard, at the center of the jail. A small courtyard with a few basketball hoops, some metal tables lining the side. The both tables and stools were bolted into the concrete. The exercise yard was crowded with women milling about under the hungry eyes of a group of soldiers. All the women were naked, young, and reasonably attractive.

A larger table had been set up with a white tablecloth and mauve candles; a bottle of wine chilled in an ice bucket. A romantic dinner? A naked teen with blonde hair walked up to me, smiling broadly. She bowed to me then dismissed Stocky and Plain-Face with the wave of her arm. The two soldiers saluted and walked off.

"My Lady," the girl said. She had a Midwest twang to her voice. "I am Ashley, your Lord Husband's chief concubine."

"You're his slut," I corrected.

"As you say, my Lady," she replied. "Would you care to sit? Lord Brandon will be here shortly to dine with you."

I was about to refuse, when a woman shouted in a rich, French accent, "Kneel before your God, the Majestic Brandon, the Divine Ruler of the World!"

I snorted with laughter. The Majestic Brandon? The soldiers knelt on one knee while the women in the exercise yard and Ashley fell prostrate. I remained standing, refusing to genuflect before my ex, and turned to see a porcelain-faced woman with long, dark-brown hair, falling naked to worship my ex-husband as he swept in. Behind him walked a bevy of naked women, led by a pair of twins who were almost the spitting image of Mary. Several military men – some sort of high-ranking officers judging by their age and bearing – followed on the heels of the naked women, and the last to enter was the mayor of Tacoma, Colton Bray, and his lovely Korean wife, Yoon.

"My beautiful Desiree," Brandon said warmly, walking up and hugging me; I stiffened in his arms. Brandon frowned and broke the hug. "I see he has warded you from my control."

"And it has nothing to do with the fact that I hate you, picaflor?" I asked bitterly, as he motioned to the seat, indicating that I should sit. I grit me teeth and plopped down on the chair.

"You do not hate me, not deep down inside," Brandon said calmly. "Mark has forced you to hate me. You are under his power."

I snorted a laugh and muttered in Spanish, "Babosa." Brandon was an idiot.

One of the auburn-haired twins popped open the wine and poured two glasses, then she knelt with all the other naked women and looked adoringly up at Brandon. Not even Master made us fawn over him like this.

"No, I hate you for this," I pointed around. "You attacked us. Your damn soldiers almost killed my loved ones. Almost killed me! You are having my Master cruelly beaten and what are you doing with all these women?" I motioned to the scared women crowded in the exercise yard.

"They were candidates for my harem," Brandon calmly answered. "The ones I rejected. My soldiers are rounding-up every attractive woman they find, and I'm keeping the best. Don't looked so shocked; Mark did the same thing. He walked into our house and made you his whore." Heat was rising in his voice. "But don't you worry, my love, I will find a way to free you."

"Mark already freed me, babosa," I answered, putting as much derision into my voice as I could. "I'm his slut willingly. We all are."

Brandon frowned as another naked woman set a salad before the both of us. My stomach rumbled, but I pushed the food aside. Brandon took a forkful, chewed it slowly, face furrowed as he thought. He swallowed, then asked, "What are you talking about?"

"Back in June, after the Miracle, Master and Mistress freed us. Some of us chose to stay as their slaves." Feeling spiteful, I added, "I could have returned to you, but I never loved you, Brandon. I just married you for your money. I was a gold digger. I stayed with Master because I fell in love, and I could have all the wealth I could possibly dream of as his whore, more than I ever could have as your wife."

Anger flashed on his face and I was too surprised to react as he slapped me across the table. "So you love Mark," he spat. "That vile beast that took you away from me. You were mine!"

"¡Tu madre es puta y pendeja!" I shouted back, rubbing my cheek. "No, I am Alison's! I fell in love with their slave and married her. I found true happiness! Something that you never gave me! All I ever got from you was a comfortable life and disappointing sex!"

I blocked his second blow and raked my fingernails down his arm. I smiled at the bloody scratches I gave him. He stood up, rage filling his eyes, and rounded the table at me. I quickly got to my feet and tried to back away, but I stumbled over one of his kneeling whores. His arm caught mine in a steely grip. I snarled at him and slapped him across the face.

My head swam as he backhanded me and I tripped over the kneeling woman and fell hard onto my back. "¡Culero!" I snarled at him. "How could I love a muerdealmohadas like you. You don't even know what to do with a woman! Not with your little dick! ¡Pinche mula!"

He stared down at me, rage burning in his eyes. "I dislike having to chastise you, Desiree, but you will learn to submit to me if I have to beat all the willfulness out of you."

"¡Jode su madre!" I spat. "I chose Alison and I chose Mark over you! Mistress is out there! You think you've won, but she will crush you! And I will be there to see you fall!"

Brandon laughed. "Let the little whore try." I felt his eyes upon me as I lay on the floor; my skirt had ridden up as I fell and I pushed it back down, covering my exposed pussy. "Why so modest now?" he asked with a hungry look in his eyes. "You weren't so bashful this morning with your tits exposed and covered in his cum."

"¡Ve a chuparle el peson ha un chango! I'm his whore, not yours! Never yours."

"Let's see, shall we?" he smiled, unbuckling his belt. "Hold her down."

His harem grabbed me. I thrashed against the women as they pinned my arms to the ground. Others held my legs. I kicked one in the face and she screamed in pain, but others moved in, fingernails biting into my flesh as they held me down. Brandon's pants were off, his cock jutting out at me beneath his fat belly.

"I forgot just how small you were," I said with a bold grin. "After Mark's, I'm not sure I'll even feel your little rope in me!"

He knelt before me, his fat, disgusting body pressed atop me. "You'll feel my cock, whore!"

"I always hated having sex with you, panzon. There is nothing less appealing than a fat whale thrashing about on top of you, gasping for breath as he tries to pump away with his little cock!"

"Cunt!" he snarled and slapped me.

My head rang and everything went hazy for a moment. I shook my head then felt a burning pain in my pussy as his cock forced its way in. I was dry; Brandon didn't seem to care. He just kept pumping away. I suppressed a groan, I wasn't about to let the bastard know just how much he was hurting me. Looking up, his neck was right above me, his throat exposed.

I could bite him, maybe rip out his artery. Then this all would be over. I could save us all! I lunged my head and bit into his neck, hard. I tasted coppery blood and bit harder, driving my teeth deeper into his neck. He pulled away, roaring in pain.

"Goddamn fucking whore!" he shouted, his left hand clutching at his bleeding throat.

There was a bloody bite, but it wasn't deep enough. He raised his right fist up and slammed it into my face. The back of my head hit the hard concrete and everything was fuzzy after that. I was barely aware of Brandon pumping away inside me. The world seemed to swim drunkenly about me. My head lolled to the side and I stared at the knees of one of the women holding me down, a gray pebble stuck to her leg. Then everything just faded away.

It was the pain that brought me back. My head was splitting and there was a burning pain down in my pussy. I could feel a crushing weight on top of me. I struggled to open my eyes and there was Brandon, his neck covered with a white bandage. He was still raping me, I realized. I felt raw and sore inside and every thrust of his cock was agony.

"Umm, you're not a bad fuck when you're unconscious," Brandon told me with glee. "If you want to wiggle about, though, that's alright."

I struggled to speak, but my head ached too much and then darkness fell on me again. I don't think I was out long, Brandon was still pumping away inside me when I woke up the second time. His face contorted in pleasure and then I realized with a disgusted shudder that he was shooting his cum inside me.

"God, I love Viagra! Three times without rest," he smiled. "And I definitely feel like a fourth. What do you say, Desiree. Want to be on top, this time? My knees are killing me."

"I'd rather die, el de atras," I slurred.

"My Lord, sunset approaches," a man said; his voice seemed distant even though I could see him standing right behind Brandon.

I moaned in relief as Brandon pulled out of me. He looked down at me, considering. "I can't have you looking all ugly," Brandon said with a shake of his head. He bent down and muttered a word and heat flashed through me and a scarlet light seemed to envelop my body. The heat banished the pain, and the fuzz clouding my thoughts was burned away as Brandon healed me. "Stand up, Desiree, I want you to see something."

I felt dirty as I stood up, Brandon's cum leaking out of my pussy. I wanted to throw-up, to run and hide, but I wasn't going to give my rapist any more satisfaction than I had to. Holding my head high, I followed Brandon out into the exercise yard. While I had been lying senseless, a large fire had been built in the center, lighting up the courtyard as the sky darkened. The Mayor of Tacoma and his wife, Yoon, waited at the fire.

"You are familiar with the Magicks of the Witch of Endor?" Brandon asked and I nodded my head. "Well, it teaches a variety of ways to summon demons. They all will make Pacts with you. The only problem is the cost. Most demons want your absolute worship and obedience to grant your wishes. While others will have you preform tasks that will seem innocuous, at first, but will actually lead to your downfall. There are only two demons that have fixed prices: Lucifer, whom Mark and I both, have already dealt with, and Molech. Of course, Molech's prices are very demanding." Brandon held out his hand. "General Brooks."

One of the military generals walked up and handed Brandon a long knife. The knife's blade glinted orange and yellow in the firelight as it flashed through the air. I jumped in shock as Brandon drove the knife into Mayor Bray's chest. The Mayor stared dumbfounded at the blade in his chest, the blood blossoming red through his shirt. Then General Brooks shoved the Mayor and he fell into the fire. Yoon screamed and collapsed to her knees, crying as her husband was engulfed in the flames.

"Molech, I give you this offering of noble blood," Brandon intoned at the fire. "Cloak yourself in coals and flames and appear before your humble supplicant!"

The fire popped and crackled and then the flames exploded upward, white hot and screaming. I clapped my hands over my ears, trying to block out the terrible noise, the sound of thousands and tens of thousands of voices crying out in eternal agony. The sound of Damnation itself.

There was something moving in the flames. I flinched and stumbled back as a hulking figure stepped out. His skin was black as soot and covered in angry, red fissures that glowed with the being's inner flames. His eyes were coals that burned with hatred, and the air danced and shimmered about him and smoke poured out of his nostrils and mouth. The fire abruptly died down and the terrible screaming stopped. The figure surveyed the crowed and everyone retreated before his terrible gaze.

Everyone, except Brandon.

The air reeked of rotting eggs and ash, and when the demon spoke, his voice was the roar of a furnace. "What do you wish of me, Mortal?"

"Free Desiree from Mark's control," Brandon demanded.

I shuddered in fear as Molech's burning eyes fixed on me, peering into me, into my soul, leaving me feeling used. Soiled worse even than Brandon's rapes. "Impossible. She is bound too tightly to him. What else, Mortal."

Disappointment flickered on Brandon's face. "Immortality, youth, and sexual stamina."

"I require nine hundred sacrifices," Molech answered grimly. "All women. If you fail to provide them to me, I shall take you as my sacrifice."

"Done," Brandon answered. The demon reached out and grabbed Brandon's arm. When he released it, an angry-red brand circled his limb. Grimacing in pain, Brandon pointed at the sobbing Mayor's wife. "Your first payment."

Molech smiled and I could feel the lust radiating off of him. Rising from his groin was a black, smoking cock. He reached down and grabbed Yoon; her flesh shriveled where he touched her. She screamed in agony as he dragged her off into the prison. I fell to my knees, heaving violently. What sort of monster did I marry? Yoon's screams echoed from the prison.

"Desiree," Brandon said pleasantly when I finished vomiting. "If you don't start acting like a good, submissive wife, I will give you to Molech and you can enjoy his embrace."

I shuddered in fear, looking up at Brandon.

He was younger now, I realized, in his twenties. His clothes hung loosely on him, his balding hair had regrown and his now too-large pants slipped off his waist, revealing a muscular, flat stomach. His cock was hardening; Yoon still screaming in the background.

"When Molech is finished with Yoon, he will want his next woman," Brandon threatened. "Your choice, Desiree."

Yoon's screams sent ice pumping through my veins. My will snapped before the fear of Molech. Feeling like the most disgusting, lowest creature in the world I knelt in submission before my rapist. I grabbed his cock, opened my mouth, and sucked it inside. I tried to look happy on the outside. I had to please him. I didn't want to be given to Molech.

"Good," Brandon purred, stroking my hair. "I'm so happy that you've finally realized your place, my love."

Inside I cried. I was a filthy worm now, forever crawling in his muck.

Leah Hirsch-Goldstein-Blum – Tacoma, WA

I was alone after Mark told us to run and I hid beneath a rusty pickup truck. I was too frightened to move. Not even hunger, thirst, or my increasingly full bladder was strong enough to overcome my terror. It was after dark when they finally captured me. The soldiers ripped my bloody clothes off, laughing as they groped my breasts and ass. Then I was thrown into the back of an army truck with other naked, frightened women.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"They say we're being taken to the God," a woman whispered in a hushed voice, an awed voice. "If we're lucky, he'll choose us for his harem."

What happened if we weren't lucky? I swallowed the question, not sure I wanted to know the answer. "I can't be in his harem. I'm married!" Jacob and Rachel must be worried sick about me. I desperately wanted to see my wife and husband again.

"They shot my husband," another woman sobbed. "He tried to stop them from taking me and..."

I hugged the crying woman. "Shh, everything will be alright," I said. What else was I supposed to say? "I'm Leah."

"Beatrice," the woman sobbed.

I held her as the truck drove slowly through the city. A few more women and teenage girls were loaded into the back, all naked and shivering in fear. They were all pretty. Soon, we were pulling up at the Courthouse and the soldiers herded us out.

"Nice ass," one said, giving mine a squeeze. I shuddered as his dirty fingers pawed me. "If you're not chosen for the Harem, I'm gonna requisition you for myself."

I shuddered in disgust. Other soldiers were molesting the women as they lined us up. I held Beatrice's hand as we were marched into the jail. We had to navigate the corridors and pass through a half-dozen locked gates before we reached the exercise yard. It was full of nude women. There was a young man, naked, getting his cock sucked by a Latina woman and eying us as we were marched before him.

"You can stop, Desiree," the man ordered.

I was surprised to see Desiree, her cheeks stained with tears, releasing his cock. She looked down at the ground the whole time, her eyes dead, as the man began to examine us carefully, grinning like a hungry wolf. Desiree looked so defeated. I had never seen the vivacious woman look so meek and scared. What had they done to her? I swallowed in fear, glancing at the man. He must be the one who attacked us.

"I am your God, Brandon," he declared. "Worship me."

All the women, Beatrice included, changed. He's like Mark and Mary, I realized. A God. I was unaffected because Mark had gifted me with protection. The women were falling to their knees, crying out in awe at Brandon. I fell to my knees, and tried to sound like them. I couldn't let Brandon know I wasn't under his control.

He tapped three women on the shoulder. "You are my concubines. You love me and will do anything to make me happy. The rest of you, go wait in the exercise yard," he said dismissively.

Neither Beatrice or I were chosen, and we were herded into the yard with the other women. They all looked fearful, glancing at a bonfire that slowly died down. Brandon gathered his concubines and Desiree, and left. I saw 51 and 27, two of the bodyguards, and moved towards them.

There was a blood-curdling scream from inside the prison. "What was that?" I asked one of the bodyguards.

51 just shook her head, a look of numb horror on her face. Dried blood streaked from a gash along her forehead.

"El Diablo," 27 hissed in terror, her Latina face contorted in fear. She was a former LAPD officer, I vaguely recalled. One of the women who volunteered to join the bodyguard. "He comes. Chooses."

"Chooses what?" Beatrice asked.

27 motioned at all of the women trapped in the exercise yard.

It wasn't long before el Diablo came. I screamed in terror when I saw him. He was a hulking figure, skin black and cracked with glowing red, like cooling lava. The air stank of sulfur. All the women in the courtyard screamed in panic and shrank away from his gaze. I pressed back, fighting to get as far away from the monstrosity as I could.

"Save me!" I prayed loudly to my Living Gods, Mark and Mary. "Please, please come save your faithful servant! Deliver me from this abomination!"

A new scream, full of pain, rang out. The monster had found his sacrifice. His black fist was around the slim arm of a young, blonde girl. The demon mercilessly dragged her off, back into the prison. Relief flooded me. But it didn't last long. After a half-hour, the demon, Molech, returned. Every thirty minutes, a new woman was selected and we all endured her screams, trembling in terror. By midnight I was numb. I didn't care about anything. So long as I wasn't chosen.

When the soldier grabbed me and led me off, I was relieved. It didn't matter to me that he was going to rape me. I was getting out of the exercise yard; I was getting away from Molech. Three soldiers used me for an hour. I tried to be the best whore for them I could, putting all my years of partying to good use. I forced down the guilt of betraying Jacob and Rachel as I begged the men to fuck me harder and pretended to coo in pleasure as their cocks raped my holes.

I just couldn't go back to the exercise yard. To Molech. I realized I would do anything to stay away.

When the soldiers were done with me, however, they dragged me kicking and screaming back to the yard, pushing me into the crowd. Sunday's dawn was pinking the horizon. Maybe Molech was afraid of the sun. Maybe he wouldn't come. That delusion quickly fled my mind, driven off by mind-numbing terror, as he stalked like an earthquake out of the prison. When he dragged off his newest victim, all I felt was relief. I wasn't chosen.

Yet.

Lana Paquet-Holub – Seattle, WA

"Lana, bring me the twins," Lilith commanded.

"Yes, my Goddess," I answered, standing up.

For hours, Lilith has been brooding in her chambers, ever since Brandon's dramatic attack on Mark and his occupation of Tacoma. Brandon had, in a single day, brought the entire United States to its knees. Only a few hours ago, the President himself had knelt and paid homage to Brandon, surrendering the Country to him.

All of our careful maneuverings in Seattle would be for naught with this new, and unanticipated, player. We had the Mayor under the control of Lilith's daughter Lamia. And Ziki, another daughter, had assumed the form of Nate Kirkpatrick and slowly hired Lilith's followers to key positions within the city's government. We were so close to taking over the city and establishing Lilith's rule.

So close.

And then this damned Brandon Fitzsimmons had to go and ruin it all!

Lilith must have a plan to stop him, I thought, as I threaded my way through the warehouse. It was owned by the City of Seattle and not currently in use. With the Mayor in our power, we quietly occupied it, moving Lilith's Children and her pregnant followers here. Babylon's house had quickly grown too crowded.

As I walked past the women they all bowed to me. Some were pregnant, while others had already birthed Lilith's children. The children all stood out from us regular humans in some way—unusual colorings, abnormal heights, or strange features that made them look slightly different. My daughter, Cora, was a Manticore. She was big and had leonine features. Lamia, Chantelle's daughter, had purple hair. Others stood out even more. Ziki, who masqueraded as Nate Kirkpatrick, was a freakish albino in her natural form.

And the twins were the strangest of all of Lilith's children.

I found them with their mother, a recovering heroin addict named Andi. The twins were pale girls, their hair pure white and they lacked any pigment in their eyes. They were born yesterday, and would reach their maturity by tomorrow evening. When I entered the room, the twins jumped in surprise. One vanished completely, the other became translucent; I shuddered in discomfort as I could see straight through her.

They were both Dimme, more spirits than creatures of flesh. When they were translucent or invisible they could pass through solid objects. Lilith was ecstatic when they were born. "Dimme are assassins," Lilith had purred when she saw the twins, "capable of penetrating an enemy's defenses and killing their target with a single touch."

They could only kill when they were solid. When they were vulnerable.

Most of Lilith's children were immune to normal weapons. Only enchanted weapons or cold iron could hurt them. But a few, like the Dimme, were more vulnerable. As long as a Dimme remained translucent or invisible, she could not be harmed by anything. However, she could not affect anything, either. To kill, she had to become solid and leave herself vulnerable to any weapon.

"Di, Emi," I said, holding out my hand. "Your Mother wishes to see you." One of them reappeared, Emi I think, and Di became solid. They both gripped my hand, hesitantly, and I smiled shyly at them.

"Mother needs us?" Emi asked.

I nodded. "Come on."

Both girls smiled and looked almost cute. Almost.

Lilith was waiting in her chambers, the former warehouse manager's office. It was richly appointed. Persian rugs covered the floor, silk tapestries hung on the walls, and scented candles, held in gold sconces, lit the room, filling the air with sweet jasmine and spicy cinnamon. Lilith sat at her richly carved, mahogany desk and smiled happily when we walked in. She stood up from the desk and knelt down, her arms outstretched.

Emi and Di ran to her, laughing as their mother scooped them up in her arms. "Ohh, you two are growing up so fast," Lilith praised, then kissed them both on their foreheads. "And so beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you, Mother," Di politely said.

"No," Lilith answered with a vain smile. "But then no-one is." Lilith set her daughters down. "You two will be fully grown by tomorrow, right?"

"Yes, Mother," Emi nodded. "By Sunday night."

Lilith smiled broadly. "Good." Lilith conjured the images of Brandon Fitzsimmons and Mark Glassner. Well, I thought it was Brandon she conjured. He looked younger and slimmer than he appeared on TV, with a full head of hair. Perhaps he cast a spell? Or did he make a deal with some demon? "Sunday night, when you are fully grown, you are to go south to Tacoma and kill these two men," Lilith instructed her daughters.

Di and Emi both smiled. I suppressed a shudder. They were hungry, disturbing smiles. "Of course, Mother."

Lilith spread out some maps and we began to plan the twins' infiltration.

Mark Glassner – Tacoma, WA

"No, no!" Mary shrieked. "Mark, please! Help me!"

I strained against the chains, struggling to break the iron links, ignoring the pain in my bruised muscles and the bite of the manacles into the skin of my wrists. I screamed wordlessly in fear and rage. My tongue was gone; cut out on Brandon's orders. And with my tongue gone, so went all my power. I couldn't command people, I couldn't cast any spells.

My tongue was my power.

Brandon ripped Mary's dress, exposing her freckled breasts. A look of hunger crossed the fat man's face. Mary had come to rescue me, and had failed. She turned to run and Brandon caught her by her long, auburn ponytail and yanked her back.

"No, no!" she cried out. "Mark, please! You have to save me! Please, please!"

Brandon hauled her back, throwing her to the ground. He was on her faster than I thought the fat man could move, pinning her beneath his monstrous bulk. Mary's cries and whimpers tore my heart apart as I wrenched at the chains, heaving with all my might. I had to save my wife. I poured every bit of strength I possessed, ignoring all the hurts and pain I felt. None of that mattered. If I had to rip my arm off to save my Mary, then so be it!

"Bease," I cried, without a tongue the word sounding like mush, as I heaved at the chain.

I pulled and pulled, my body screaming in pain. But it wasn't the chain that gave out first, it was my body. I slumped, panting loudly. I failed her. Tears rolled down my cheek as the fat man pumped away atop my wife. Mary's screams were daggers in my soul.

I failed her!

"Mark," the chiming, ethereal voice whispered. "Awaken."

Everything seemed to dissolve and then blow away as the melodic voice rang out. Brandon, Mary, the chains holding me down; all swept away. Even the pain was gone. My awareness returned to me and I exhaled in relief. This was a nightmare. I was asleep on the hard cot back in the jail.

I remembered thinking of Azrael as I fell asleep. I wanted to summon the Angel of Death to my dreams. She was the only one who could teach me how to harness the power of the Gift Tiffany gave me.

I turned to see Azrael standing behind me. Her hair was red as blood, floating about her fierce face; her skin gleamed as bright as burnished bronze, and she was clad in a robe of the purest white. Concern painted her face; her scarlet eyes strangely soft.

"Hello, Mark," she greeted tenderly.

"I am ready to learn."

She nodded. "The Gift manifests differently between men and women. For you, it gives peak physical strength, endurance, and reflexes for a man of your size. You can take more injuries and still function. A man without the Gift surely would have died from the beating you sustained. Your powers are geared to fighting the supernatural. Your primary ability is the Chereb prayer."

"Chereb," I whispered and jumped in surprise, dropping the gold blade that appeared in my hand. The moment I released it, the blade vanished into a thousand tiny, golden motes.

"Chereb, as you have noticed, conjures a blade of Celestial Gold, the weapon of an Angel. Sharp as a razor, but only capable of harming spiritual bodies," Azrael explained. "Angels, demons, spirits, monsters, homunculi."

"And how will that help free me?" I demanded, angrily. "Hell, the son of a bitch ripped my tongue out. I can't even summon the sword if I wanted to."

"It won't," Azrael answered, a hint of steel chiming in her voice. "But, once you are free, you may need this. The second basic prayer is Choshen. This will gird you in Angelic Armor, which is proof against most spiritual attacks. But it is not invulnerable. It also serves well against mundane attacks."

I was growing more and more impatient. "Teach me something useful, dammit!"

Her scarlet eyes narrowed in annoyance. "The third basic prayer is all internal. Just imagine your body as healthy and whole as it should be and you shall be healed. No words need to be spoken. But it takes time, a few minutes, and it will leave you vulnerable."

"And restrained," I muttered.

"So, bide your time, wait for the opportunity, and seize it," Azrael hissed in anger, her face a thunderstorm of fury.

I flinched, taking a step back. "But, how can I create that opportunity?"

"There is one prayer, gifted only to Shamans," Azrael answered, calming down. "Because I am the Angel of Death, you may pull back the veil and summon help. It is very dangerous, the dead will draw on your life-force. I do not know how long you could maintain the summons. A few minutes, a few seconds, but it may give you the opportunity."

"How?" I asked, frowning.

"Tsalmaveth."

Violet Matheson – Tacoma, WA

"Violet," Loreena said, shaking me awake. "Something is happening." She spoke with a slurred, stiff speech.

Yesterday, Loreena had saved me. She took me into her house and we spent the night huddled on her bed watching TV. Watching Brandon Fitzsimmons declare himself God. It was totally surreal. Master was getting beaten so viciously, and then the President of the United States himself arrived and surrendered the country to that horrible Brandon.

"This can't be happening," Loreena had said as she read the subtitles. She was deaf and Brandon's powers did not seem to affect her. "How can the President just surrender?"

"Brandon's evil," I answered, facing her so she could read my lips. "He sold his soul for dark powers."

We fell asleep on her bed - her bedroom TV muted - drawing comfort from each other as the world descended into madness. The night was full of unnatural sounds. Helicopters were constantly flying overhead and gunshots would ring violently out through the night. Every time I woke up, I would clutch Loreena and she would hug me just as tight.

Now it was Sunday morning and Loreena motioned me to come to the window, the rising sun filling her room with a soft light. I walked over and glanced outside and saw soldiers marching a woman to a truck. She was naked and I could see other women in the back of the truck. At the next house, soldiers were kicking in the front door. I could hear faint shouts and then I jumped from the crack of gunshots. A minute later, the soldiers dragged a sobbing teenage-girl out, then ripped her clothes off. God, it looked like they were laughing at the poor girl.

Depositing the naked girl in the truck, the soldiers headed for the next houses on the street. My heart froze in terror. They were searching house to house, dragging out the women they found. And they were working their way to this house.

"We have to hide!" I shouted. Loreena ignored me as she stared out of the window in shock. I forgot she was deaf, so I grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face me. "We need a place to hide."

Loreena gaped at me, her eyes full of disbelieving horror. Yesterday, US Soldiers didn't break down your door and drag you off. But that was before the world changed. Loreena glanced out the window, then took a deep breath and nodded. She grabbed my hand and led me out of the bedroom and down the stairs. She pushed on some paneling on the wall below the stairs and it moved, revealing a crawlspace beneath the stairs.

I nodded to her and mouthed, "This would work."

We both squeezed in, pulling the panel closed. It smelled musty, and cobwebs clung to my hair. I was too scared to care about that, too scared to wonder where the spiders were that made all these webs. We sat down, and leaned against unfinished wood and waited. My heart was thundering in my chest as I strained to hear what was going on. I wished I had a watch or something, to tell how long we had been in here. It felt like an eternity as we waited in the dark, straining to hear anything.

What was taking the soldiers so long? I was starting to feel sick in my stomach as I waited. The stress was too much. Please, just let them search the house and move on. I wasn't sure how much more of this interminable waiting I could take. I tried to count my breaths, my heartbeats, anything to try and give me an idea of how much time was passing by.

Maybe the soldiers weren't coming? How long could I wait in here? Had it been minutes or hours? I swallowed, wondering if maybe we should slip out and check. We could be real quick—pop out, peer out the window, and pop back into our hiding spot. The soldiers would never know. I was reaching for the panel, preparing to push it open.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

I jumped in surprise, someone was pounding hard on the front door. The soldier hammered again, paused, then hammered a third time. "Open up!" a man shouted. "Open up in the name of your God! All Citizens are required to submit to searches!" He banged again. "Last chance, then we're breaking the door down and executing whomever we find!"

There was a splintering crash, then booted feet pounded through the house. Dust fell down into my face as they raced upstairs, tickling at my nose. Oh no. I clasped my hand over my nose, trying to ignore the growing, tickling sensation. One of the soldiers was searching the first floor, the other the second. More dust trickled down and I could feel the sneeze building. Please no! Not now! The sensation was growing unbearable. Any second I would sneeze and they would find us and kill us. I fought it, suppressed the ticklish urge.

Achoo!

I jumped as Loreena sneezed, and fear surged coldly through my veins. Everything seemed to be quiet all of a sudden. Were the soldiers listening? Did they hear Loreena's sneeze? They must be straining, trying to figure out where that sneeze had come from, looking for the place where we were hiding. I squeezed Loreena tightly, felt her heart thudding in her chest.

"Clear!" one soldier yelled from upstairs.

A soft moan came from Loreena and I could feel her trembling. She was deaf. She didn't know what was happening. It was too dark in here for her to see my lips, to let me tell her to be quiet, that everything was okay. Her moan was growing louder; she was going to give us away. I had to silence her.

I kissed her.

Her lips were soft and moist. I could feel her tense in shock. She tried to pull away, and I grabbed the back of her head and pulled her tight, thrusting my tongue deep into her lips. I felt her start to relax; start to kiss me back.

"Clear!" the other soldier yelled back, and then the booted feet were stomping down the stairs and they were out of the house.

I kept kissing Loreena, our passions growing. All the stress of the last twenty-four hours melted away as I kissed this beautiful, kind woman. My hands reached out and found the cotton nightgown she was wearing, and I started hiking it up. She rose up and I pulled it over her ass. I rubbed at her pussy beneath her panties, feeling the soft hair and the growing wetness.

Her hands started touching me. I wore a borrowed nightgown and I helped her pull it up my body. I wore no panties and her fingers gently touched my bald, teenage cunt. I moaned into her mouth, enjoying her uncertain touch as she stroked my flushed vulva. I hooked my fingers into the waistband of her panties and pulled them off, stroking her silky pussy hair and finding her snatch dripping wet.

Loreena moaned into my lips as I gently stroked her clit. I shifted, turning to face her and scissoring my legs with hers. I scooted closer and closer until our pussies kissed. I started writhing my hip, sliding my wet pussy along her furry muff. It felt so good to forget about everything that had happened and lose myself in the pleasure of this woman.

She started humping me back and I broke the kiss to lean back on my elbows and really started to trib her. "Umm, your cunt feels so soft on mine!" I moaned, forgetting that she was deaf as my orgasm built inside me. "Fuck me! Yes, yes! I need this!"

Loreena was moaning just as loud, but wordlessly, a pure sound untainted by language. My eyes had adjusted to the darkness just enough to make out her form as she writhed in pleasure. One of her hands had pushed up her nightgown and fingered her nipple. Pleasure blossomed within me, every time my clit rubbed against her pussy it grew and grew.

"Yes! I'm coming! Oh, Loreena! Sweet Loreena, your pussy's driving me wild!"

Loreena's moans grew shrill and I could feel moisture flooding my pussy as her orgasm exploded through her. I shuddered a few more times, then stopped pumping my hips, breathing heavily. I leaned over, captured her lips with a gentle kiss, and hugged her tight. I tried to hold onto this happy, satisfied feeling.

But the fear and stress was bubbling back up.

Mary Glassner – Toulouse, France

It was late at night in France when we arrived, landing in Toulouse. Back home, it was Sunday afternoon, and I was told that all the footage from America was Mark getting beaten for the second day, interspersed with clips of the President surrendering to Brandon. I kept sending Mark supportive thoughts, letting him know that I had a plan, that I was coming for him.

I wasn't going to let my husband down.

The eighteen hour trip to France had seemed to drag on and on. I couldn't sleep, I could barely eat. All I could do was fret and stare out the window or open my locket that Mark gave me on the day I met him. It was silver, heart-shaped, with a pink rose sculpted into the front. It was absolutely gaudy, not at all something that I would have chosen for myself.

It was my favorite piece of jewelry after my wedding ring.

Inside were pictures of Mark and I. It comforted me on the interminable flight to open it up and stare at my husband's face, stroking the tiny photo with a finger, and weep.

We barely made it out of the US; air travel was suspended as we took off from LaGuardia. We had to stop for fuel before crossing the Atlantic, and we had just gotten airborne when the order was given. Luckily, shutting down the Nation's airspace takes time and we were able to slip out over the ocean without anyone stopping us.

The last five hours of the flight were the worst. That's when they started beating Mark again. Every time my husband sent me a thought, I could feel the agony he was experiencing through his sending. I do not know how he is able to withstand it. Just the shadow of his pain was enough to make me cry. Somehow, despite the beatings, he told me about his dream, and what he learned from Azrael. He could conjure magical weapons and armor, he could heal himself, and summon the dead.

When we landed in Toulouse, France, transportation was waiting. I had made calls ahead of time to arrange for several vans and a police escort. The drive to Rennes-le-Château – a small, ancient village built atop a rocky hill that rose black out of the countryside – took maybe an hour. The only way up the cliff was a winding, narrow lane. Behind the Church of Mary Magdalene lay the Motherhouse of the Nuns that had twice attacked us. Both buildings were ancient, made of vine-covered stone pitted with age.

Silently, the SWAT officers slipped out of the vans in their black nomex, MP5s in their hands, and they quickly surrounded the Motherhouse. Meanwhile, the bodyguards formed a perimeter around the two buildings, supported by the French police. I leaned against the van, the September night air cool on my naked flesh. I never got a chance to get dressed, other things were just more important.

Five of the former SWAT officers stacked on the front door. They gave each other hand-signals, then opened the front door and moved quickly inside. Through the small, stained-glass windows, I could see their flashlights shining around as they searched the building. 47 leaned against the van next to me and squeezed my hand, smiling reassuringly at me.

After what seemed like an hour waiting in the cold, one of the SWAT reappeared and motioned to us. 47 formed a guard of four around me and we marched over to the SWAT officer. It was Duncan, who commanded the SWAT for us.

"Ma'am, we have a woman in custody," he reported. "We found her in the basement. If you would follow me, please."

"She was hiding?" I asked as he led me inside.

"No, she is waiting for you," Duncan answered. "We found her just calmly sitting in this metal room, a pot of tea steaming on the table before her and two cups. There was not a hint of fear in her eyes."

We walked through the narrow corridors then down a tight, narrow staircase into the basement. I shook with nerves. You can do this, Mary, I reassured myself. She is one woman and you have fourteen armed men and women immune to her powers, and there are more waiting outside.

In the basement, we walked past old cardboard boxes, reeking of mildew, stacked against one wall. At the far end was a black metal door carved with strange symbols. Inside, I could see a woman in a gray nun's habit, a simple, white veil covering her head, sipping calmly from a cup of tea. She looked up at me and I froze; her dark eyes were ancient, far beyond the youth of her face.

Who was this woman?

Mom said she was a legend, over a thousand years old. Karen said she had been waiting two thousand years for this moment. I steeled myself and entered the room. The walls, the floor, the ceiling, all of it was black metal carved with the same strange symbols as the door. I froze, licking my lips. This was wrong. I should be running out of here. How can she be so calm? She must know what I am, what my soldiers are. She should be terrified, or at the very least nervous.

So why is she so calm?

"Would you like some tea?" she asked pleasantly in a thick, French accent. Her face was dusky, a warm and friendly smile graced her red lips, and dark hair peaked out from beneath her veil. She looked Middle-eastern, a little like our former slut Thamina.

I wasn't sure what to do. I swallowed, glancing at 47. There was worry in her eyes. She sensed something was wrong, too. This woman was unnaturally calm. I glanced at the men guarding her and I could see the tension in their eyes, their guns readied in their hands. How are we all intimidated by this one, unarmed woman?

"Well, child, are you going to come in and sit down?" the woman continued. "I would like to talk with you. It is very important."

"Fine," I said, and sat down on the hard, wooden chair. She grabbed the porcelain teapot and poured me a glass of a spicy-smelling tea. I took it, sipping, then froze. What if she put something in it?

An amused smile flitted across the woman's lips. "It is not poisoned or drugged, I assure you. Can you close the door so we may speak privately?"

I frowned, "No, my guards stay in here."

"They are not the prying ears I care about," the woman answered. "Please, I have much to tell you."

I wanted to say no. I wasn't here to talk, I was here to steal her Gift. Mark was getting beaten right now. There wasn't time to waste on talking. And yet, her eyes were so ancient, so wise, I swallowed and found myself nodding my head. I did need something else from her, besides her Gift.

"I will close the door, if you hand over your copy of the Magicks of the Witch of Endor," I told her. This entire mess was caused by Brandon getting ahold of that damned book. If we survived this mess, we needed to get our hands on the two copies that we didn't have. No-one else could learn about it and use that knowledge against us.

"Alas, I do not have it," she answered.

"Don't lie to me!" I snapped. "I know it is here."

"Where did you hear that?"

"Wikipedia," I answered. I felt foolish when I said that out loud.

She shrugged. "Feel free to search the place once we're finished. But it is gone. I could not let you get your hands on it."

I frowned. "I already have a copy of the book."

"Copies are not the original," she answered. "I have no idea where it is hidden now."

What did that mean? The original must have something unique in it. Something dangerous. "Fine, humor her and close the door. Let's hear what she says to try and stop me."

"I cannot stop you from stealing my Gift," she answered matter-of-factly.

The door closed with a metallic clang. "Who are you?" I asked. She was a Nun, I could see the golden aura about her. "Are you the Mother Superior?"

"I am Maryam," she answered. "Once of the town of Magdala."

My family was Irish; my dad was a lapsed Catholic, but I had been to a few masses. My heart skipped a beat. "That's impossible."

"No," she said with a shake of her head. "For two thousand years I have fought ha-Satan, the Adversary. I have learned much and more. I have this one warning for you, Mary. You and Mark are his pawns. Everything you do brings about his freedom from the Abyss. Him and all those bound with him."

"You mean the Devil?" I asked and she nodded. "He is trying to escape Hell?"

"It is inevitable at this stage," Maryam sighed. "The Supernatural has been revealed to the World. False Gods are once more being worshiped. The Evil of the days of Noah walks the world once more. It doesn't matter if it's you and Mark, or Brandon, or another pawn. Everyday, more and more people are deceived. The Prison is so weak, only one last event is necessary to bring it crumbling down."

"Why are you telling me this? If it's inevitable."

"The Adversary can be contained, the damage done to the world can be mitigated," Maryam answered. "You and Mark are lesser evils compared to the Adversary. I have read the future, I have seen the subtlety of his plan. If you and Mark defeat Brandon, Lilith will confront you and be killed. Her death will be the final blow that springs the lock, and the Adversary will be freed." She took a sip. "If you are ready when Lilith dies, you may trap him."

I swallowed. Mark and I had wondered what the Devil's plan was, why he had given Mark Lilith's gem. So this was it. To escape Hell. And what would happen once he was freed? Lilith clearly hates humans, but what about the Devil? And all those other demons trapped in Hell; do they hate us just as much? A chill ran down my spine.

What have we done?

"How can we trap him?" I asked, shaken by her words.

"I do not know. Search the old writings."

"Old writings?"

"The Creator in his infinite Wisdom saw that many ancient works were preserved at Qumran." She took one last sip of her tea. "This room, study it carefully. It is a Matmown. A Hidden Place. No spiritual being can pierce through its walls. The Adversary cannot spy on you here or accurately predict your future. What you plan in here will forever be hidden from him. It is the only advantage you will have. Your Vizier, Samnag Soun, should have no trouble re-creating the room. Never speak of your plans outside of this room, not even telepathically through the Siyach spell. Those thoughts pass through the spiritual realms and can easily be plucked out of the Ether. Only in a room like this are your plans truly safe from him."

Maryam stood up suddenly and all my guards aimed their guns at her. She laughed, and to my surprise, she started stripping off her clothes. Her veil came off first, revealing her luxurious, dark hair. Then she untied the belt cinching her gray habit and pulled the robe off her body. She was naked underneath; her breasts were large, with dark nipples, and her stomach flat. She had curvy hips, and a thick, dark bush grew between her legs.

"So, you are the whore after all," I laughed, drinking in her beauty.

Maryam grimaced, "I was never a whore. A sinner, yes, but never a whore. That was Pope Gregory I's mistake. Men ever love salacious rumors and that one has dogged my reputation ever since."

"Then why are you getting naked?" I asked.

"You plan on stealing my Gift. I know what that entails."

The Ganubath ritual was the opposite of the Nun's exorcism. I needed to bring Maryam to an orgasm, and when she cums, I would steal her Gift for myself. Maryam laid down on the cold metal floor, spreading her legs. I knelt down before her. I realized that I hadn't had sex in over twenty-four hours. Since I met Mark, the only long stretches without sex were when I slept. Seeing her lying naked and willing, I felt my own pussy stir with arousal.

I knelt down. Her pubic hair was matted with her juices and I could smell her honey. I rubbed my face through her silky pubic hair, enjoying the way it tickled against my skin. I breathed deeply, then licked at her slit. Maryam moaned in pleasure. I spread open her slit, exposing the wet, pink flesh and buried my face into her lips.

I ate her quickly, devouring her tasty juices. I needed to get her off as fast as I could. Mark was waiting. I ran my tongue up her labia, my fingers gently circling her clit. Then I shoved my tongue as deep into her as I could.

Maryam was moaning something. It wasn't French. It sounded like Hebrew, maybe. Or Aramaic. Her hips were starting to writhe. I drank her thick juices, sweet as honey, then slid my lips up to suck on her hard pearl. My tongue circled her clit as I slipped two fingers inside her pussy. She was tight and hot as I quested for her G-spot.

She cried out loudly when my fingers found that sensitive bundle of nerves. Her orgasm crashed through her, flooding my lips. "Ganubath!" I screamed.

Golden power flowed out of Maryam and poured into me. It filled me, sinking into every single inch of my body, into my soul. I cried out, an orgasm exploding inside me. The power was so pure, so beautiful, that it left me trembling on the floor. I picked myself up, looking down at the panting Maryam. No longer was her aura gold. It was silver. She was just a regular woman now. Her eyes stared up at me, lidded with lust. When I made my Pact, I wished that every woman who saw me would desire me, and it was clearly working on Maryam now that the protection of her Gift was gone.

Exultation flooded me. I did it! I could stop Brandon. All I had to do was fuck him and this would be over.

To be continued...

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The Devil's Pact Chapter 38: Shamans

mypenname3000

Fantasy, Blowjob, Death, Female/Female, Humiliation, Male / Females, Male/Female, Mind Control, Violence

Introduction:

Mary has the Gift and flies home to exorcise Brandon and save Mark.

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

Sunday passed in a haze of pain.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Will they help me to escape?"

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

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

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

"Like what?"

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

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

"Yes. It merely requires their pledge of fidelity and obedience."

"How many could I have?"

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

I nodded. "What other prayers are there?"

Mary Glassner – Southern France

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

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

I had no idea how to do it.

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

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

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

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

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

Please! I silently begged. Just let me sleep!

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

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

Brandon has...other. Brandon has brother?

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're actually in my dreams," Dream-Mark whispered in awe.

"No, you're in my dreams," I giggled. "I mean, I'm the one dreaming."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh fuck, oh fuck!" I gasped. "Oh, that feels amazing!"

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

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

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

"Oh my God!" I moaned as my fourth orgasm swept through me. "You're driving me wild, Azrael."

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

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

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

"What about the ones used on Mark's sister and my friend, Alice?"

"You shouldn't need those," Azrael answered. "Not with your other powers."

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

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

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

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

One instant of perfect joy.

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

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

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

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

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

Mark woke first.

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

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

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

Emi, the Dimme – Seattle, WA

"Go swiftly, my daughters," Mother commanded Di and myself.

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

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

Mark Glassner.

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

"We will not fail you, Mother," I promised.

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

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

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

We are Dimme. We do not fail.

Monday, September 30th, 2013 – Mary Glassner – Seattle, WA

"Everyone take your seats, we're beginning our approach," Joslyn's voice crackled over the 747's PA. "We'll be on the ground by 12:17 PM."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Good luck, ma'am," 47, the second-in-command of the bodyguards, wished me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yours, my Lord!" I cooed. "I can't wait to feel it in my naughty cunt!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His blow caught me by surprise.

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

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

"How!" I coughed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I hope you didn't wish for that small cock!" I taunted. "I barely felt it in my mouth."

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

"Fucking cunt!" Brandon roared, blinking his eyes.

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

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

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

"That's mi Reina!" she shouted, defiance burning in her dark eyes as she clutched her stomach.

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

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

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

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

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

Good.

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

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

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

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

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

Mark Glassner – Tacoma, WA

Panic seized my heart as Molech strode forward.

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

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

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

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

"What was that?" Brandon gaped where the woman disappeared.

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

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

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

My tongue was whole. I was healed. "Tsalmaveth!"

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

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

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

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

Molech had to be stopped.

Mary Glassner

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

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

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

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

"Capture Brandon!" I commanded.

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

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

The ghosts of Karen, 32, and 63 advanced.

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

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

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

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

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

Mark Glassner

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just one more second.

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

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

I found a chain manacled to my soul.

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

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

Mary Glassner

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

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

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

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

"Ahh, and the bullets don't hurt you because you're dead?"

"Basically."

"So, could something hurt you while you're summoned?"

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

"What's that?"

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

"Wow," I whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

"Just surrender, Brandon!" I shouted, hoping to spare any innocent lives I could. "You're trapped!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Let me know when he's about to cum," I ordered.

Mark Glassner

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I raised my sword.

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

"You should not have threatened my wife, Molech."

I swung my sword.

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

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

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

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

Mary Glassner

"I won't cum!" Brandon defiantly roared as 51's ebony hand pumped on his cock.

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

He flushed.

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

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

"I'm fine," I told her, panting. What was that energy that just flowed into me?

"Fire danced around you, Mistress," Karen said in awe. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," I answered, then thought to Mark, *What was that energy?*

*Molech's dead* Mark sent back; he sounded exhausted.

*We have Brandon. Just follow the open security doors.*

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

*No I didn't. My plan failed, Mark.*

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

I flushed even more.

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

"Mark!" I screamed in warning.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My hand went limp.

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

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

The fire of Molech.

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

"Tsariy!" I screamed hoarsely as I touched him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Debra Horne-Dannell

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Brandon Fitzsimmons.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Brandon Fitzsimmons – The Abyss

The gun barked.

I was falling, falling, falling into darkness.

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

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

To be continued...

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The Devil's Pact Chapter 39: Reunions

mypenname3000

Fantasy, Anal, Cum Swallowing, Female / Girl, Female/Female, Group Sex, Incest, Lesbian, Male / Females, Male/Female, Male/Teen Female, Mind Control, Oral Sex, Romance, Threesome, Water Sports/Pissing, Wife

Introduction:

Mark and Mary are reunited with their loved ones after their ordeal.

On September 30th, 2013, amidst blood and fire, the Tyrants' reign began. In the name of Peace and Security, they put mankind beneath their Oppression. To fight the Darkness, the False Gods, Mark and Mary Glassner, shrouded the World in Night.

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

September 30th, 2013 – Mark Glassner – Tacoma, WA

Brandon Fitzsimmons was dead, executed at my orders; and as we faced the square before the Pierce County Courthouse in Tacoma, full of soldiers staring at us in worshipful awe, I couldn't help but marvel at the the change in Mary. Something happened in France, something that transformed her feelings on how we should use our powers.

"Mark," she had whispered in my ear as we finally held each other, reunited at last. I had been basking in our triumph—I was free, Molech was dead, Brandon was captured. All that was left was for Mary to exorcise him, and this terrible ordeal would be behind us. "We've started something terrible. A darkness approaches. We have to take some responsibility and fight back, Mark."

Her words chilled my blood, a blast of arctic wind howling across my soul. I had opened my mouth to question her, but she pressed a finger to my lips and shook her head, emerald eyes flashing a warning. I trusted her, I loved her; she must have her reasons for not speaking more about it. Her next words transformed the arctic gale into a raging maelstrom when she said, "We need to prepare. We need to lead mankind, guide them and protect them. The Nuns are done. There is only you and me.

"We can make a better world, Mark. A utopia!"

My eyes grew wider and wider as she laid out her idea for the Theocracy. Mary had always been the cautious one, afraid of harming people, and now she wanted to enslave the entire world. We'd make them happy, we'd eliminate all the petty hatreds that had pointlessly divided mankind: sex, race, religion, creed, sexual orientation. We would be their Gods, loving and protecting them—ruling them gently.

Whatever scared my wife, whatever dark secret she learned from the Mother Superior, had driven her to this decision. I knew it was merely an extension of the direction we were already heading, but it was still as shocking as grabbing a downed power line. Right now we were going slow, not forcing people to worship us—guiding instead of commanding. After Brandon's dramatic attack on us using an army, I didn't have a problem with her plan. We needed power; we had been too laid back, too lax, and the consequences had been almost catastrophic. We needed an army; Brandon had taught me what true power was.

"A Utopia," I agreed.

Mary exorcised Brandon, giving him a handjob and stealing his powers when he came. Then we marched outside, wreathed in the flames of Molech, and declared ourselves rulers of the US and Gods of mankind. It was for their own good; something bad, something terrible was approaching, and we needed to protect them.

Now we stood before the very soldiers that had attacked me, who now knelt in worship before us. I could see the guilt in their eyes – Brandon had forced them to commit many atrocities while they were his Thralls – melt away; they were grateful for our absolution as they stared up in awe at their new Gods. It was intoxicating; I could feel their love, their devotion, and I drank it in like water through the roots of a majestic oak tree.

"We need soldiers!" I proclaimed, still wreathed in flames, the news cameras of the world filming us, broadcasting our declaration live to the world. It was the beginning of our rule, our Theocracy. Brandon's corpse lay at my feet. "Loyal men and women who pledge their lives to protect mankind from the coming darkness."

"A Great Evil stirs in the world!" Mary declared passionately. "Lilith the Demoness walks the world, corrupting mankind, and other forces stir in the shadows! You have a choice: serve us and fight the darkness, or be cowards and slink off to your loved ones and watch the world die, knowing deep in your hearts you could have done something to stop it!"

"Soldiers, you were falsely used by Brandon; find redemption in serving us! Find glory in serving us!" I roared. "I ask that you swear fidelity and obedience to us, to fight the Darkness and save the World!"

Azrael said I could bind willing people with this prayer, gift them with protections from demonic powers, allow their weapons to harm spiritual flesh. Azrael wasn't sure how many I could bind; a normal monk could have at most a hundred, but I was different. I had access to far more power. I felt it when I fought Molech, drawing on all the people bound to me, pooling our energies to fuel the dead I had summoned. When I killed Molech, his powers had flowed into me and then into Mary. I don't know why the power passed into my wife; maybe because we were bound so tightly with magics, or maybe because Molech's essence was too much for my soul alone to contain. Whatever the reason, we had a new source of energy flowing through us.

All of the soldiers in the square knelt and swore: "I pledge my rifle to the service of Mark and Mary Glassner. With obedience and fidelity, shall I follow his leadership. Until my Gods release me or death takes me," and were bound to me with the Ragily prayer.

As the assembled group of soldiers – easily more than two hundred of them – finished their oaths, I felt power flow out of me and into them. Their auras remained silver, a mortal's aura, but a halo of gold surrounded the silver. According to Azrael, they would be loyal and incorruptible; and there were far more soldiers occupying Tacoma and stationed at Joint Base Lewis-McChord that could swear to me and create an army—my army. Brandon had shown just how dangerous an army in the hands of a Warlock could be.

"My Lord," an older man with stars on his fatigues said as he stood before me, snapping a crisp salute. "Lieutenant-General Arthur Brooks, commander I Corps."

"Good, assemble all of your soldiers," I told him, awkwardly saluting him back. I would have to practice that; a God should appear proficient in all things. "The occupation of Tacoma is over."

"Very well, sir." He paused. "And what would you have us do with the President, sir."

I frowned. "What?"

"The President and most of the cabinet are imprisoned here in the jail. At the False God's orders." His eyes glanced over at the corpse of Brandon Fitzsimmons.

"Free him," Mary ordered. "Bring him to us."

The President was brought before us, bedraggled from his time spent in the jail. He was defiant at first, until Mary gave him a peremptory command: "Kneel and swear allegiance to the Theocracy." He knelt, he swore, he worshiped. After him knelt the cabinet secretaries. I ordered the President to have all the heads of every Federal Agency travel to Washington State so they could be put under our control—especially the FBI and the Intelligence Agencies.

With that done, Mary and I wanted to go home, to rest and wait for our loved ones to return from Kansas. Then we learned that Brandon had destroyed our neighborhood, burned down every house, the foundations to our mansion, and the pavilion that the Living Church met in. Luckily, no-one was at the tent; God only knows what Brandon would have done to the people who worship us.

We occupied the Hotel Murano in downtown Tacoma, a swanky place on Broadway; it would be our home until the mansion was constructed. For security reasons we had all the guests check-out, and had the staffs dismissed. No-one would be close to us that wasn't bound by the Zimmah or Ragily spells. Willow had been recruiting women to serve us from her clinic, getting things ready for when our mansion was finished being constructed; we would need to start binding them now, and they would serve us by running the hotel.

Violet turned up a little while after we arrived at the Murano. Our soldiers had formed a perimeter around the hotel to keep people back; crowds had begun to grow, filling the streets around the hotel with a sea of worshipful faces—pilgrims drawn to their new Gods. I was too exhausted to face any more people. I needed to rest and to process what had happened to me.

"Master!" Violet cried out when the soldiers led her into the hotel lobby. The last of the guests had been ushered out, and we were watching the staff leave as we waited for an elevator to descend; we wanted to head up to our rooms. 51 and 27 – the only two of the nine bodyguards with me that survived Brandon's attack – stood protective watch over us, M16s clutched in their hands. Violet ran to us, crying in relief, in happiness. "Mistress!" Mary and I caught her in a hug and took turns kissing her on the lips. She buried her face into our chests and began to sob.

"It's okay," Mary murmured, stroking her hair.

"I thought you were going to die!" she cried.

"Not this time," I told her, wiping at her tears.

Violet nodded her head, sniffing, and saw Desiree sitting listlessly on a chair, covered in a blanket. Our Latina slut had been very subdued since we won. She had been forced to be Brandon's whore, and that seemed to have broken something inside her. Violet went to her and hugged her enthusiastically and kissed her on the lips. Desiree barely acknowledged her.

Mary gave Desiree a worried look, then pulled Violet back to her and asked the slut, "Are you hurt? Did anything happen to you?"

Violet shook her head. "A deaf woman named Loreena hid me. It was scary. Soldiers broke into the house and we hid beneath her stairs."

"They were rounding up women for Molech," Desiree said with a hollow voice, then she gave a shudder.

"You're safe now," Mary told Desiree gently, reaching out to rest a comforting hand on her shoulder. "And Alison's on the way. So let's go upstairs and you can lie down and rest, okay?"

Desiree didn't answer, but when the elevator dinged, she got up and followed the three of us in; 51 and 27 stepped into the elevator, scanning the lobby as the doors slowly slid closed.

I glanced at Violet. "Elevator slut," I whispered to her and she smiled, remembering how we met. It was in Seattle and we were checking out, riding down an elevator, when we met Violet and I was so enchanted by her innocent beauty that I had to defile her right there in the elevator.

Violet wore a pair of ill-fitting sweat-pants and a baggy sweatshirt, and she quickly peeled those off. "I'm your elevator slut," she cooed.

"Not today," Mary butted in, pressing up against me. "The first pussy Mark gets is mine."

"Oh, of course, Mistress," Violet apologized.

I pulled Mary to me, kissing her on the lips, her naked body pressing up against mine. Her lips tasted sweet. My hand slid up her supple body, cupping her left, perky breast. I gave it a gentle squeeze, my fingers finding her hard nipple. After what had happened to me, the endless beatings, the cruelties I witnessed, I almost regretted ever making my Pact.

Almost.

It was all worth it for her—for my Mary. I would do anything to keep her, to protect her. Anything.

The elevator dinged; we had reached the top floor and I picked up my wife. We had the largest suite for ourselves, and I carried her to the door. It was spacious, well furnished. A central living room with three bedrooms leading from it. We gave Desiree one of the bedrooms, and she walked in and closed the door wordlessly.

I carried Mary to the bathroom, beautifully appointed with gray and mauve, very modern, equipped with a jacuzzi-bath and a large shower. And a bidet; I could have water splashing on my ass. The shower had always been our private space; there was something intimate and close about showering with your love—the world reduced to just Mary and I, wrapped in the warm spray. I sat Mary down and turned the faucet. When the water was warm she slipped in and I eagerly followed. I savored the relaxing heat as the spray cascaded upon us, washing the filth of the last days off our bodies.

Mary's hands were gentle as she washed my body. She rubbed me everywhere, particularly my ass. She had a naughty smile on her lips as she squeezed my cheeks, then she 'washed' my cock for a good five minutes, getting me hard as a steel rod. Her hand felt wonderful as it slid up and down on my shaft. She rinsed the soap off it, then she knelt down.

"Naughty filly," I groaned as her lips engulfed the head of my cock. I stroked her wet, auburn hair and leaned against the shower wall and enjoyed her blowjob. She sucked hard, swirling her tongue about my cock's head, then slowly buried my cock all the way into her mouth, deep-throating me to the root. "I love you so much, Mare!"

She would let me enjoy being buried down her throat for a minute, then slide slowly back up, sucking hard on my cock, until only the tip remained in her lips. She would drive me wild by flicking her tongue rapidly around my cock while stroking the shaft, then she would slide her lips all the way down and deep-throat me once more.

"Fuck that feels great!" I moaned, her throat constricting about the sensitive head of my cock. "Umm, I'm gonna cum!"

Since I made my Pact, I was used to cumming multiple times a day. It was Monday evening, and I hadn't had an orgasm since Saturday morning; my balls exploded, filling Mary's hungry mouth with a huge load of my spunk. Six large blasts. Mary swallowed it all.

She stood up, threw her arms around my neck and rubbed her nose against mine, smiling, "You were a little backed up, Mark."

"Just a little," I smiled, and kissed her salty lips.

I had a lot of fun washing my wife. I soaped her back, her arms and her sides, before I started on her front. I soaped her flat stomach, washing slowly upwards until I reached the undersides of her breasts. I rubbed around her tits, washing her chest and collarbone. She grabbed my hands impatiently, and brought them down to cup her breasts. I smiled, and washed her perky breasts, stroking her areola, then played with her hard nipples.

"Umm, that feels nice, hun," Mary sighed. Then squealed in delight as I bent my head down and sucked a soapy nipple into my lips, while my hands roamed down to her plump ass, kneading the cheeks.

I released her nipple, soaped up my hands and knelt down and began washing her legs. I started with her right calf and worked my up to her thigh. Her pussy was waxed, her slit tight, and she shuddered as I rubbed my hand across her flushed vulva, just once.

"Don't stop!" she protested as I started washing down her left leg. "God, I'm so horny!"

"What do you want me to do about that?"

"Eat me!"

"Hmm," I said, pretending to consider her request.

"Please!" She sounded so frustrated, her emerald eyes staring down at me full of need.

"All right," I answered. "It does look absolutely delicious."

"You won't be disappointed," she promised.

I buried my face in her spicy-sweetness. My tongue explored her folds, kissing every part of her pussy. She tasted heavenly and I wasn't disappointed. I wrapped my arms around her hips and grabbed her ass and pulled her tight against me. I devoured her. My filly, my wife, my one true love. I couldn't get enough of her. I almost lost her. Mary was shuddering on my face, cumming and cumming, but I just kept eating her out. I couldn't stop. I didn't want to ever stop pleasuring her.

Mary had other ideas. "Please stop," she begged after I lost count of her climaxes, pulling on my hair. "It's too much! My pussy needs a break!"

A mix of pride and regret filled me as I stood up and kissed her, crushing her tightly to my chest. Inside me the dam holding my emotions back burst, and I felt tears running down my face. "I thought I lost you, Mare!"

A shudder ran through her body that turned into a ragged sob, her face pressed into my neck, clinging just as tight. "I'm terrified, Mark."

"Why?" I asked. What did she learn in France? Lucifer will rise free of the Abyss and you will burn in his radiance, Mortal! Molech's words echoed in my mind as he lay defiantly at my feet. Was he lying to save his life, or was Lucifer really trying to escape? "What scared you, Mare?"

She just shook her head, that warning look flashing across her face.

"We'll face it together," I told her; I had to trust her, there must be an important reason for her not to speak.

"Together," she whispered. "Forever, right?"

"Forever."

Violet took a shower when we left, while I carried my damp, naked wife to our bedroom. The bed was king-sized, mahogany finish, adorned with a maroon comforter. I gently sat Mary down and stretched out beside her. She kissed me, rolling on top of me. Her wet, auburn hair fell about us, cool on my cheeks as we kissed. Her hands stroked my side, then slid down and found my cock, hard and ready for her.

She grasped my shaft, shifted her hips, and guided it to her sopping pussy. I groaned into her lips as she pushed my cock into her velvety tightness. She took all of it, then slowly rocked on top of me. I gripped her plump ass, giving her cheeks a squeeze, and helped slide her body up and down on me. Her hard nipples dragged across my chest. Mary's emerald eyes stared down into mine and we were lost peering into each other's souls as we made love.

"I love you, my horny stallion," she whispered.

"My naughty filly," I whispered back. "My love."

She rocked her hips faster, her pussy gripping my cock with wet silk and heat. Faster and faster she rocked, and I started thrusting my hips up, driving my dick into her. The heat of her cunt grew as we made love faster. I rolled her over onto her back and began pounding her hard. Her red lips opened in pleasure, her hips rising to meet my thrusts.

"Ride me, stud!" Mary gasped. "Oh, I missed this! I missed you so damn much!"

I grabbed her legs, hooked them over my shoulders. Her cunt tightened on my cock and I thrust deeper into her pussy. Her perky breasts jiggled as I hammered into her, sweat rolling down her perfect mounds.

"Your cunt feels amazing on me, Mare," I groaned. "The best pussy in the world!"

She beamed at me. "You haven't had every pussy in the world, how would you know for sure?"

"I've had enough to know!"

"Yes you have, my horny stallion!"

Mary added a twist to her hips. It felt amazing on my cock. My balls were getting closer to bursting as they slapped into her taint. She threw her head back, her eyes squeezed shut as she gasped loudly. I felt her cunt spasming on my cock as her orgasm rippled through her body, massaging my dick as it pumped in her sheath.

"Gonna cum!" I gasped. "Your cunt's milking me!"

"Yes, yes! Give me your cum! I need it in me!"

"My pleasure," I moaned and flooded her hungry pussy, every muscle in my body tensing, before I collapsed on top of my wife.

"Mmhh, that was nice," she sighed, kissing me.

I rolled off of her and she snuggled against me. I slid my hand down and rubbed at her pregnant belly. I almost lost more than just my wife. I almost lost my unborn baby girl. Well, I didn't know what the sex of our child was, but in my heart I knew it was a girl. Chasity Glassner.

If I could kill Brandon again, I would.

The door to our bedroom opened, and Violet peered in, naked and freshly showered.

"Come in, slut," Mary smiled.

Violet beamed at us and positively skipped over and snuggled up on the other side of me, pressing her budding breasts against my side and kissing my lips eagerly. "You taste like Mistress," she giggled.

"That's because Mark gave me some great head," Mary smiled.

"He's a generous man," Violet said seriously.

Mary's hand slid down and found my cock half-hard. "Very generous. I bet he wants to share his generosity with you."

"Do you, Master?" Violet asked eagerly, her hand joining Mary's on my dick, which expanded rapidly beneath the two women's burning touch.

I slid a hand down and squeezed her tight, teen ass. "I do, slut." I pressed my fingers into her buttcrack and found her puckered anus, circling it with my fingers. "How do you think I should share my generosity with you?"

"My ass," Violet answered. "My slutty, tight asshole!"

"Good girl," I told her, kissing her lips. "And I bet Mary has something she wants to share with you between her legs."

"Oohh, is there a creampie for me, Mistress?"

Mary spread her thighs. "Just for you, slut."

Violet clambered over me and buried her face in Mary's snatch, licking noisily at my wife's messy cunt. Mary rolled her eyes in pleasure, gripped Violet's brown hair and started grinding her pussy into the teen's lips. I moved behind Violet, stroking her tight ass, then spread her cheeks and found her brown hole.

My cock was drenched with Mary's lubrication, and I gathered some of Violet's and worked it into her ass with two fingers, sinking into her tight flesh. When I had her nice and lubed, I placed the head of my cock at her tight opening, and pushed it in slowly, savoring the warm satin of her bowels.

"Uhh, that feels amazing, Master!"

"Keep licking, slut!" Mary admonished.

I smacked Violet's ass. "You heard her slut!"

"Sorry, Mistress," Violet squeaked and buried her face back into Mary's cunt.

Mary grinned and began playing with her perky breasts, her green eyes fluttering with lust. I started fucking Violet's ass with deep, hard thrusts, driving the little slut into Mary's cunt with every thrust, while my balls slapped wetly into Violet's pussy. Her hips moved, fucking me back as she moaned her pleasure into Mary's cunt.

Mary gasped, "God, I love your tongue, Violet! Suck my clit, you little whore! Make me scream in pleasure!" Mary's eyes widened, and her body shook in pleasure. "Umm, that's right. Keep that tongue flicking on my clit! You are such a naughty, cunt-munching slut! I'm going to drown you in my juices!"

I smacked Violet's butt a second time, leaving a red, stinging handprint, and fucked her tight ass faster. Her anal sheath was bringing my balls to a quick boil. I was getting desperately close to cumming, and I pumped hard and frantic.

"Fucking slut!" I moaned. "Your dirty ass feels so good on my cock. I'm going to shoot so much cum up your ass!"

Mary's back arched – her perky breasts heaving like a rearing horse, majestic, beautiful – as she orgasmed. She screamed wordlessly, and I could smell the strong scent of her arousal as she flooded Violet's lips with girl-cum. I felt Violet's ass squeezing my cock, the little slut cumming about me. I pounded her ass a few more times, closing my eyes as I reached the pinnacle of my pleasure, then groaned as I exploded inside her ass.

"Thank you Master, Mistress," Violet panted as I pulled out of her ass.

I lay down next to my panting wife, pulled her to me, and kissed her. Violet started licking at my dirty cock, like a good little slut, and I closed my eyes and the exhaustion of the last weekend fell upon me like a ton of bricks.

"Master," a voice said, shaking my leg, waking me up. I had been out like a log, and now I was disoriented. The sun had set while I was passed out; the hotel room dark as sin. A glanced at the clock; it was close to midnight. Mary was sleeping on one side of me and Violet was curled up on the other side. 51 was standing at the foot of my bed, naked and an M16 slung over her shoulder.

"What?" I asked sleepily.

"Your family has arrived," 51 reported. "They've almost passed the crowds. There are thousands crowding the streets. It's like St. Peters Square out there."

"Thank you, 51," I yawned, shook Mary awake, and gave her a kiss.

I led my wife to the suite's balcony, wanting to see the crowds. It was a cold, clear September night and our flesh pimpled. Mary shivered then concentrated and flames danced around her; she smiled. The flames didn't burn me, but they would burn someone else, as poor 51 learned earlier today after we exorcised Brandon. I hugged my wife to me, enjoying the warmth licking my body, and we gazed down at the streets.

They were filled with people for blocks, many with candles, lighting up the streets like the starry sky. These were the people we needed to protect. Molech warned me that Lucifer was up to something dangerous, something I would oppose. Is this the secret Mary learned? Well, if I started something when I made my Pact, I had the responsibility to fix it, to make the world a better place. A world where people didn't hurt each other, fear each other.

I would give the world love and peace. Utopia.

Alison de la Fuentes

I trembled with excitement when the SUV finally made it through all the crowds of people that clogged the streets of Tacoma. April sat next to me, the nerdy teen squeezing my hand, just as excited as I was, eager to see her girlfriend Violet. The two, shy teenagers, bonding with their shared pregnancies, had become quite the item lately. I'm sure Master hasn't noticed a thing.

After spending the weekend worried sick not only about Master and Mistress, but about my wife, Desiree, I was so excited to be reunited with her. Watching her on TV yesterday, hanging on Brandon's arm, filled me with fear. Desiree was smiling and seemed happy, but I could see the fear in her eyes, the tightness in her lips. The bastard did something to her to make her cooperate.

We passed a cordon of soldiers and then we were in front of the hotel. I threw open the door, racing into the lobby. Master and Mistress were waiting and I ran to them, hugged them, and felt so happy when they kissed me on the lips. You should always stay near them, my subconscious whispered.

"It's good to see you, Alison," Master said to me, stroking my face.

I was about to ask where Desiree was, when April pushed me to the side to hug our Masters. And then everyone else burst in, and I drifted out to the side as Jessica, Xiu, Korina, and Lillian were eager to embrace them too. Then their families arrived; Master embraced his mom and sister, and Mistress shared a group-hug with her family.

I strained my neck, looking around the lobby. Leah - Master's chauffeur; she had been captured by Brandon as well – had a joyful reunion with Rachel and Jacob, her spouses. But where was my Desiree? I looked around, a pit forming in my stomach. My breath quickened. Where was my Latin beauty?

I wormed my way to Mistress, trying to stay calm. "Upstairs," Mistress told me, sensing my question. "In our suite. Top floor."

"Thank you, Mistress."

I raced to the elevator and smashed my fingers onto the up button furiously. I stared at the display that showed which floor it was at, watching the numbers slowly grow lower as the elevator descended. I wanted to scream at the stupid thing, I was so wound up inside. I needed it to come down. I burned inside to see my Desiree. Finally, the elevator dinged, the doors opened, and I shot inside. I pounded the 17th floor and then just repeatedly mashed the door close button. I screamed in frustration as the doors just seemed to refuse to close. Slowly, ever so slowly, the doors finally slid closed, the elevator lifting me up.

It seemed to take an eternity. I was practically yelling at the stupid thing to go faster. I felt red-faced when I reached the top floor. A bodyguard, 27, stood naked – an M16 clutched in her hand – before a door at the end of the hallway. 27 smiled tiredly at me as she opened the door with the keycard. There were three bedrooms in the suite; Desiree was in the second one I tried.

My wife sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the ground. Empty alcohol mini-bottles littered the floor. Her neck was bare, her choker missing. "Desiree!" I shouted and sat down next to her and wrapped my arms around her. Desiree pushed me off.

"Go away," she said, slurring her voice.

Her words stung. I had expected a tearful, happy reunion. "No," I told her, cupping her face. "Talk to me."

She tore her face away. "Don't touch me!"

"Why?" I asked.

Desiree ignored me, instead standing up and wobbling to the minibar. I stood up and grabbed her hand. "You've had enough to drink, Desiree."

"Leave me alone, Alison," she pleaded, slumping to the floor.

"Just talk to me," I told her, kneeling down next to her. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong. I just don't want you anymore."

Her words hurt. Fuck her my subconscious whispered inside me. You can do better than her, let the stupid cunt wallow drunkenly. Go find Master and fuck him! That was just the pain of Desiree's words talking, and I pushed them down. My subconscious had a nasty streak to it I learned growing up, but that wasn't important; something was wrong with my wife. She was in pain, lashing out blindly. I needed to get through to her somehow. I couldn't let that monster steal my wife from me. Not without me putting up a hell of a fight for her.

Is she really worth it? whispered my subconscious. I ignored the voice; of course Desiree was worth it.

So I laughed dismissively at Desiree. "Don't lie to me," I told her, pulling off my tight T-shirt, baring my lovely breasts and my hard nipples pierced with silver barbells. I grabbed her face and turned her to look at them. I could see her eyes flick down to my nipples, a momentary flash of lust. "Don't lie to me and tell me you don't want me. I know you do. Just like I want you, Desiree."

That was the wrong thing to say.

Desiree grabbed me and pushed me onto my back. "That's all you want. My body!" She yanked the baggy shirt off, exposing those magnificent breasts of hers and shook them at me. "Here it is, Alison. Use me! Take your pleasure!" Tears started running down her face. "That's all I'm good for!"

"No, I don't want your body," I told her. "I want you. I love you."

"How can you love such a filthy, disgusting creature like me," Desiree sobbed. "I let him touch me. He...used every part of my body. I let him! I let that monster make me his whore! I betrayed you, Alison!"

"Shh, you didn't betray me, Desiree. You did what you had to, right? He was going to hurt you." I hugged my wife, and she sobbed and sobbed into my neck. I don't know how long I held her, stroking her hair, letting her pour out all her pain, anguish, fear. I held her and rocked her and cried with her until she had poured every teardrop left in her. I wished Brandon was still alive so I could kill him myself.

Fucking Warlock! You should hate all the Warlocks, my subconscious whispered. Every last fucking one of them!

"I love you, Desiree," I told her. "You're my slut-wife. Forever."

"How can you still love me?" she demanded of me, her bloodshot eyes peering hopelessly at me.

I smiled at her. "Because you are strong and beautiful and loving. Because you own my heart." I grabbed her hand and placed it on my chest. "Feel it beat. That's yours. It beats for you. Master and Mistress own my body. You own my heart."

"Mi Sirenita," Desiree sighed. "How did I get so lucky to meet you."

Destiny, my subconscious whispered. They were such beautiful words, so I echoed them to my wife as I slid her hand over to cup my left breast. "Destiny. Our Masters are changing the world and we were chosen to help them."

I shuddered as Desiree ran her thumb around my areola, hardening my nipple. My wife ducked her head down; I sighed in pleasure as she sucked it and my piercing into her lips. Her hand slid down my stomach, circling my bellybutton, then slid down to my side, gripping me as she sucked harder at my nub.

"My love," I sighed. "Umm, I missed you so much."

Desiree pushed me down to my back, and pushed up the short skirt I wore, exposing my stubbly cunt. I hadn't shaved all weekend, and I flushed in embarrassment. She could see my brown pubes, my real hair color. Desiree smiled, rubbing her fingers through them, then bent down and I shuddered as she licked up my slit, her tongue teasing my clit.

Her fingers spread me open and her tongue tasted everywhere inside my pussy, driving me wild with her gentle licks. Her plump lips sucked my labia in, sending shuddering waves of pleasure through me. I writhed on the carpet as my wife made love to me, and my first orgasm shuddered deliciously through me.

"Oh, yes!" I moaned as my Desiree began licking me to another orgasm. "Hmm, I love it! I love you!"

My second orgasm was more powerful than the first. I halfway sat up as my stomach tightened in ecstasy. Then Desiree slipped three fingers inside me, pumping them in and out of me as her lips focused their attention on my hard clit.

"Yes, yes, yes! Finger me! Nibble on my clit!" Her teeth sent me spasming with my third orgasm. I screamed loudly and everything went black. When I returned to myself, Desiree was snuggled up against me, her lips sticky with my sweet honey.

"You passed out, mi Sirenita."

"You were that amazing," I told her and kissed her. "Umm, it's my turn."

"You don't have to," Desiree said, tensing up.

"Nonsense," I told her. "You are too beautiful for me to resist."

"But I'm all dirty."

I licked her neck, tasting her sweat. "I don't care, Desiree. You could never be too dirty for me."

I stood up and pulled my wife to her feet, then led her to the bed. "You are going to scream in pleasure," I told her as I pushed her down.

"Promise?" Desiree asked, her voice thick with her sultry accent.

"Cross my heart," I said, tracing an X on my boob; Desiree smiled and kissed me there, and pulled me down atop her as she laid on her back.

I kissed her lips, enjoying the feel of her voluptuous body beneath me. I licked her face clean of my tasty honey, then licked down her jaw to her supple neck. I planned on kissing every square inch of her beautiful, brown skin. I smooched her all over her neck, where her choker should be, like the one around my neck; they proclaimed whom we belonged to. Then I started working on her shoulders. I kissed down her left arm, down to her hand, sucking all her fingers into my lips. I switched to her right hand, her fingers sticky with my passion and I sucked them clean, before I began smooching back up to her shoulder.

I smooched along her collarbone, traced her breastbone down between the mountains of her tits. I licked underneath her right boob, salty with sweat, and around the tit, my cheek rubbing against her silky skin as I made it to the top. Then I kissed down, covering ever square inch of her right breast, before I licked her large, dark-pink areola. It was bumpy on my skin, and I spiraled into her turgid nipple and sucked it into my mouth.

"You're driving me wild, mi Sirenita!"

I grinned at her, and went to work kissing her left breast. I began with the nipple this time, and Desiree shuddered in delight as I sucked it into my hungry lips. Then I spiraled out, kissing every spot on her perfect breast. I continued smooching down her stomach, my hair tickling Desiree as my lips brushed her sensitive stomach, then tongued her cute bellybutton, bringing shudders of laughter.

I kept tonguing her navel. I was so happy to hear her laugh.

I kissed down to her groin, tracing her hip as I got closer and closer to her shaved pussy. I could smell her tangy, spicy arousal. I had missed that scent so badly this weekend, so I inhaled deeply, delighting in her natural perfume. Instead of smooching her pussy, I started down her right leg. Desiree moaned in frustration, and I giggled. I kissed her knee, her shin, sucked her toes into my lips and licked at the soles of her feet. I repeated it with her left leg, then told her to flip over.

I kissed her sleek back, moving down her spine to her plump, Latina ass. I rubbed my cheeks against her cheeks, then smooched every inch of her butt. I spread her buttcheeks apart, exposing her brown asshole. I kissed that too, tasting the sour flavor. I swirled my tongue around her ass, then pushed against the tight sphincter, forcing my tongue inside her warm bowels.

Nothing about my wife was dirty to me.

I sucked and licked, enjoying her heavy breathing. "Umm, that feels nice," she moaned.

"And tastes delicious," I purred, then bent down to rim her ass some more.

"I bet my pussy tastes even better."

"You sure you're not too dirty?" I asked her, stroking the edges of her vulva.

"No," she hissed. "No, I'm not too dirty."

"Good!" I spread her thighs and buried my face in her pussy.

I reveled in the taste of her, that spicy and tangy flavor, juices thick on my lips. I swallowed it, drank them down. I ran my tongue from her clit up through her slit, then shoved it into her pussy, pressing into her hot hole. My hands grabbed her plump ass, squeezing hard as I dug into her cunt. My fingers slid down her ass crack and I started stroking her asshole, then sank my middle finger into her bowels.

"Umm, you naughty slut," Desiree moaned.

"Always," I giggled, then buried my tongue back into her tasty cunt.

"Your tongue stud is driving me crazy!" Her asscheeks clenched and a flood of delicious juices issued from her pussy as I made my wife cum. "Fuck! Fuck!" she howled. I kept licking, fingering her ass, then I switched to her clit. She moaned wordlessly, orgasm after intense orgasm spasming through her body.

Finally she had enough, and I pulled my lips away from her delicious cunt. Desiree rolled over onto her back and she smiled down at me. I crawled up her body and kissed her gently on the lips. Her right hand caressed my cheek and I saw gold glinting on her finger. I grabbed her hand and saw her wedding band.

"This is on the wrong hand."

"I didn't want them to take it," Desiree answered. "So I switched hands. They took my choker and I couldn't lose this."

I felt tears running down my face, and I gently pulled the ring off her finger. I grabbed her left hand and slipped it on and kissed her fingers. "There, back where it belongs."

Mark Glassner

My mom and sister could not stop hugging me, touching me. "I was so worried," Mom almost sobbed, "watching you getting beaten."

"I'm fine, Mom," I told her and kissed her on the lips.

"I thought you were toast, big bro," Antsy said, trying to be her usual, playful self.

"How could I die when I have so many beautiful women in my life," I told her and kissed my little sister on the lips. Betty and Via giggled, and joined the hug. They were the girlfriends of my mom and sisters, and I wrapped my arms around all four happy, smiling women.

Mary was surrounded by her family. Missy and Shannon sandwiched her, while Sean and Tiffany hugged all three of their daughters fiercely. Mary's eyes met mine, and and she sent me, *I think we owe our families some quality time. Particularly you, Mark. You gave them quite the scare.* I could feel her amused tone.

I laughed. *No fair, your family is bigger.* In addition to her family, Damien and George were hovering on the edges. They were Missy's boyfriend and Shannon's fiancee respectively.

*I'm just luckier than you, Mark!*

Mary suddenly wormed out of her family and walked over to Sam. She sat on the couch with Candy, her plaything, curled up beside her. Curious, I begged off my family, and told them I would be right back.

Antsy grabbed my hard cock. "I know you will, big bro!"

Mary sat down next to Sam and glanced at me as I walked up. "We need you to do something that is very important."

"What, ma'am?" Sam asked.

"Go to the Motherhouse in Rennes-le-Château," Mary explained. "In the basement you will find a room. Study it carefully. I need you to reconstruct it perfectly."

"What is it?" Sam asked. I was curious too.

"No questions," Mary told her. "This is very important. Mark and I can't go; we need to attend to things here in the States. Take the 747 to the East Coast, then book a regular flight from there to Toulouse, France. Be discreet and protect yourself."

Sam glanced at Candy. "Can I take her with me?"

Mary nodded, "Just remember that this is very important, okay?"

"Of course," Sam answered. "You can count on us."

"Good," Mary sighed in relief. "The Chief of Police in Toulouse is under my power. He has the standard cop orders. Contact him for help or if anything goes wrong."

Sam nodded. "Come on, Candy. Let's go."

"I'm tired," Candy pouted, but let Sam drag her off.

"What is that room?" I asked Mary.

She chewed her lip; she did that when she was thinking. "Lilith tried to kill you today," Mary finally said. "She can spy on us from the Shadows. She could be watching us right now."

That sent a chill through my veins and I glanced around. "And what is the room then?"

"A Hidden Place. A Matmown. Lilith cannot spy on us in there." Mary swallowed. "We cannot plot against her until we have this secure place."

So this is what she was holding back. Unless there was more. If it blocked Lilith, did that mean it blocked other beings?

Like the Devil.

Lucifer will rise free of the Abyss and you will burn in his radiance, Mortal! Molech's warning echoed in my mind. Mary nodded her head, and gave me a cautionary look. Did she sense what I just figured out? *Not even this is secure from Lilith* she sent telepathically with the Siyach spell. Then a smile appeared on Mary's face. "Go be with your family, Mark."

"Join us," I told her. "They're your family, too. I don't want us to be apart tonight."

Mary glanced at her family, then at me, indecision painting her face.

"We can be with your family tomorrow night," I promised.

An excited glint appeared in my wife's eyes. "Let me go say good night."

We piled into the elevators and I grabbed my mom and pressed her against the wall, kissing her passionately. Antsy pounced on Mary and was eagerly kissing my wife, and I saw mocha-skinned Betty kissing ivory-skinned Via with ardor. I had my mom's blouse open by the time we reached the penthouse, and I fondled her breasts. They were still beautiful. Mom was never busty, so there wasn't too much sag after forty-three years; she was a MILF.

27 looked exhausted when she opened the suite's door with a keycard. Desiree's bedroom door was closed and I guessed Alison must be in there with her. I hoped Alison could help Desiree deal with all the crap that happened to her. The girls were all pushing me to the bedroom and I didn't resist. Clothes were flying off and quickly there were five very naked women squirming on the bed with me in the middle.

"Umm, you're feeling quite hard," Mom moaned as she mounted me, guiding my cock to her waxed cunt.

I groaned as she sank down, engulfing me with her wet pussy. "You're feeling quite wet!"

"My son is back where he belongs!"

Next to me, Mary was pulling Via onto her face while Antsy spread her legs. I smiled, watching my sister bury her face in my wife's cunt, eagerly licking away. Betty draped her body behind mom, kissing her on the neck.

"Fuck your son, Sandy," Betty cooed into my mom's ears. "I want to lick your snatch clean."

My mom gave a throaty laugh. "That sounds wonderful, love!"

Betty's dark hands wrapped around my mom, hefting a breast and reaching down to find her clit. My mom's cunt tightened on me as she gasped in pleasure. Her hips rose and fell and I groaned as her pussy pleasured. I reached up and fondled Mom's other breast as Betty started kissing her neck.

"That's it, honey," Betty cooed. "Ride his cock!"

"I am, love!" Mom gasped, turning her head and kissing her Black girlfriend.

"Oh, your tongue is amazing," moaned Via next to me. My sister's girlfriend tossed her black hair with its scarlet highlights; her large breasts heaved as she writhed on my wife's face. My eyes trailed down her body and I found Mary's freckled, perky breasts jiggling invitingly.

I leaned over and sucked my wife's breast into my lips. I could hear Mary's muffled gasps. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Antsy's face as she devoured my wife's pussy. My little sister looked like she was in heaven. I knew just what she tasted; eating Mary's pussy was one of my favorite things in the world.

"Ohh, Mark, your cock is stirring me up!" moaned Mom. "And your fingers, Betty!"

Betty giggled, then licked my mom's ear. "Why don't you cum then, Sandy! Cum all over your son's cock!"

My mom's hips were pumping faster and faster, her breasts rising and falling beautifully. "That sounds like a great idea! Ummm, just pinch my clit a little harder, love! Ohhh, that's it! Yes, yes! Oh, yes!"

Her cunt was a vice on my cock as she came, milking me. I released my wife's breast and laid back on the bed, pleasure coursing through me. "Just a little more, Mom," I groaned through clenched teeth. My entire body tensed as my orgasm approached. Up and down Mom pumped her tight sheath on my cock. My back arched and I was shooting inside my mom, inside the very womb I came from.

That just made it more exciting.

"Umm, he left you a lot, love," my mom purred to Betty as she rolled off me.

Betty spread my mom's legs and smiled, licking her lips. "He sure did, Sandy."

My cock hardened as I watched the dark girl bury herself between my mom's pale thighs, licking furiously at her messy cunt. Mom threw back her head and sighed in pleasure. "I love it when you eat me out!"

Betty lifted her head up, her lips sticky with cum and cream. "I love to eat you out."

"If you're free, big bro, come fuck my pussy."

"Sure, Antsy."

I knelt behind her, and there was barely enough room left on the bed. My little sister had a shaved cunt and it was dripping juices. I rubbed my cock along her slit, delighting in the silky-soft feel of her skin.

"Don't tease me," Antsy moaned. "Fuck me!" She wiggled her hips. "I need it so bad!"

"You're such a slut," Via gasped, kneading her huge breasts as she writhed on my wife's face.

"You would know," Antsy fondly replied, then buried her face back into Mary's tasty snatch as I buried my cock deep into my sister's cunt.

She was a lot tighter than mom. Mom had a great cunt, but she also had two children. Antsy pumped her hips as I fucked her hard. She moaned her delight into Mary's pussy. I had a great view of my wife's lips and tongue as she ate out Via's shaved pussy. She had her arms wrapped around Via's thighs, gripping her ass. Via ground her pussy onto Mary's face, and hefted her heavy, left breast and began sucking on her own nipple.

"That's hot," I groaned as Via swirled her tongue around her hard nipple.

"Not as hot as your wife's tongue in my twat!" Via purred. "She's driving me wild! I'm gonna flood her lips!"

"Cum on her face," I urged.

Via shuddered, her huge tits heaving, a soft moan escaping her lips. "Yes!" she hissed and rolled off of Mary, stretching out on her face.

Mary licked her lips and gripped Antsy's black hair. "Make me cum!" she hissed. "I need it so bad!"

Via rolled onto her stomach and slid her head over and started licking at Mary's clit as Antsy went lower and began tongue-fucking Mary. Mary's back arched in pleasure and her eyelids fluttered. "Holy shit!" she gasped. "You fucking sluts are driving me nuts! Oh yes! Lick that clit! Umm, yes, yes! Fucking yes!" Her body went wild with spasms as a massive orgasm rolled through her body.

While I watched Mary's firm breasts sway as she came, I felt my sister's cunt clamping down on my cock; her velvety snatch massaged my dick as she came. I pounded harder at my sister, my balls tightening.

I slapped her ass. "What a slutty little sister," I groaned. "Cumming on your brother's cock."

"Hell yeah!" she cooed. "Your cock is amazing, big bro." She started pumping her hips hard. "Why don't you hurry up and cum inside my pussy!"

My mom groaned throatily, and I glanced over to see her squeezing her nipples hard as Betty feasted on her pussy. "Oh yes, love! Oh yes! Here it comes!" Mom's entire body tensed, and Betty glued her lips to my mom's cunt to catch every tasty drop of her juices.

Mary smiled at my mom. "Good one?"

"Always with Betty," Mom answered. "She's the best."

A loving sigh escaped Betty's lips as she gazed adoringly up at my mom. "I love you, Sandy."

Mom caressed her sticky cheeks. "I'm so happy we found each other." Betty climbed up my mom's body, dark breasts dragging across pale tits, and ivory and ebony became one as they passionately kissed.

Mary stroked Via's stomach. "Via, do you still drink piss like I taught you?"

"Umm, I love it," Via purred.

A smile broke on Mary's lips. "I remember peeing in your mouth in that bathroom."

"And on the dance floor," Via laughed wickedly.

Mary stood up and crooked her finger at her. "Why don't you come here and have some more?"

Via didn't need to be told twice. I watched her open her lips wide. A golden stream arched from Mary's pussy and splashed into Via's lips. She was a pee slut, and eagerly drank the dirty, golden fluid down. I felt my sister's cunt spasming on my cock again as a second orgasm rolled through her.

"Love watching you drink pee!" Antsy gasped.

Via smiled, licking her lips clean. "Anyone else need to pee?"

"I do," Betty giggled.

My mom's mocha lover stood up and Via knelt before her. Betty was facing away from us, her mocha ass round and firm. Betty sighed as she pissed into Via's hungry lips. Urine splashed on Via's chin and ran yellow down her throat and between her huge mounds. The sight was so erotic, my balls exploded suddenly and I filled Antsy's cunt to the brim with my cum.

Via began licking Betty clean, eagerly pleasuring the Black girl. Antsy pulled out of me, rubbed a finger through her messy snatch, then got off the bed and walked over to her girlfriend. "You made a mess, Via. Let me clean you up."

I watched my sister lick the pee up the valley of Via's breasts, up her neck, she kept licking up, reaching Betty's taint. Then Antsy buried her face between two pillowy, dark cheeks, and tongued Betty's ass. The mocha-skinned girl threw her head back as she was pleasured from both sides. I laid down on the bed and my mom snuggled up to me and kissed me gently on the lips. Mary slid into bed on the other side and I wrapped my arms around both of them. They kissed each other over my chest and they both rested their faces on my broad shoulders.

"Love you Mare," I said, kissing her forehead. "And I love you, Mom." I kissed her forehead as well.

"Love you," Mary murmured sleepily.

She was asleep, breathing softly, and I held her tightly. We both had a long day, a long weekend. The nap we had earlier wasn't enough as fatigue suddenly washed through me and my eyes felt so heavy. I closed them and drifted off to sleep with Betty's moans of pleasure filling my ears.

Tuesday, October 1st, 2013 – Noel Heinrich – Philadelphia, PA

"It's almost dawn, Noel," Wyatt Kirby said.

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes as he shook my leg. I could not believe I fell asleep. I sat up, stretched, and made sure my sandy-blonde hair was still tied up in a bun. I had to adjust my shoulder-holster, the butt of my gun digging into my side.

"How many arrived?" I asked him.

"Thirty-four," Wyatt answered. "They're in the backyard."

I followed him through his spacious home. He had been my mentor when I went through the FBI Academy at Quantico, and shortly after I graduated he left the FBI and went into the private security business. He had done quite well for himself. When Mark Glassner freed me from his control, I sought him out and told him everything that happened to me.

For the last few months we had quietly talked to those in the law enforcement and intelligence fields who viewed Mark Glassner with growing trepidation. And this weekend all our fears were finally realized. First this Brandon Fitzsimmons dramatically took control of Tacoma and declared himself God, and our President was more than happy to surrender the Country to him. And yesterday, Mark defeated Brandon and was doing the exact same thing.

He had to be stopped.

Standing in clumps around Wyatt's backyard were tense men and women. In the center a fire roared and a hunk of beef waited to be sacrificed. My stomach fluttered as they all stared at me; flint in their eyes.

"For those who do not know me, I am Special Agent Noel Heinrich, FBI!" I was surprised that my voice didn't quake with fear. "For two weeks I was Mark Glassner's slave! The stories about him are true; he can control you with the simplest of commands!"

"How!" someone in the crowd shouted.

"He sold his soul to the Devil," I answered. I could hear the disbelief in their laughter. "You saw the events of this weekend in Tacoma. Mark Glassner's feud with Brandon Fitzsimmons has left hundreds of US Citizens dead, while an entire Army Corp has deserted and sworn allegiance to him. Even the President has kowtowed to him without a fight. How else do you think he did this?"

No-one had an answer. I could feel their unease, almost taste it on the predawn air. It tasted bitter.

"Mark Glassner is the greatest threat to Liberty the world has ever known!" I continued. "Thomas Jefferson, who wrote the Declaration of Independence in this very city, said, 'The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants.' Our patriotic blood and his tyrannic blood!"

A cheer went up from the crowd.

"How can we fight him?" a woman asked, silencing the cheers. "If he can just make us do what he wants?"

Grins faded, hope died.

I fixed my gaze on each of them, firm and resolute. "The same way our Founding Fathers defeated the might of the British—by using every single thing at our disposal. I know how Mark got his powers! His secret is out on the internet! We just have to have the strength to do what is necessary to defeat him! We have to fight fire with fire!

"We have to make our own Pact with the Devil!"

To be continued...

---

The Devil's Pact Side-Story: Leah's Reunion

mypenname3000

Fantasy, Anal, Blowjob, Cum Swallowing, Male / Females, Oral Sex

Introduction:

In the aftermath of Brandon's attack on Mark, Rachel and Jacob are reunited with their wife Leah. But the trauma Leah suffered has left a deep mark on her psyche.

The Devil's Pact Side Story: Leah's Reunion

Note: Takes place during Chapter 39. Thanks to b0b for beta reading this.

Monday, September 30th, 2013—Rachel Hirsch-Goldstein-Blum

The last three days had been the most stressful in my entire life. While Jacob and I had huddled in the the bolthole—a decommissioned missile silo our Gods bought in the middle of nowhere, Kansas—our wife had been fighting for her very life. That bastard, Brandon Fitzsimmons, had attacked Mark and Leah had been chauffeuring him. We were helpless, trapped before the TV looking for sign that Leah even still lived, praying desperately that she had survived the wrecked limo.

"Leah is alive, Leah is alive," I kept telling myself over and over. I couldn't lose my brunette love. For one glorious weekend—my honeymoon—she transformed me into the slut from my darkest fantasies. It had been a wild adventure before I settled into my marriage with Jacob. We made passionate love and she took me to this club where I had sex in public and then was gangbanged. I fell in love with her. When the weekend was over and I had to go back to my husband, I convinced Leah to come with me; I could not stand to be parted from either of my loves.

To my eternal relief, Jacob and Leah hit off, and soon we were a happy, loving threesome, fulfilling Jacob's wildest fantasy—two sexy women ready to please him. He deserved it for letting me have a wild, uninhibited time during our honeymoon. Soon after, we came to Washington State to be nearer to the Living Gods and so Jacob and I could marry Leah. Then our Gods graciously offered us jobs. Leah chauffeured for them, while Jacob and I put our CPA's to use. It was all going amazingly well Saturday.

It was only in the aftermath of Brandon's execution this afternoon that we found out our wife lived. The Goddess had succeed in defeating Brandon and saving our Lord. Like a botanist carefully tending to her shoots, Jacob and I had carefully nurtured our hope over the weekend, and learning that Leah lived allowed our hope to blossom into joy—a euphoric high that wiped away all the fatigue and stress of the last three days.

The euphoria continued on the plane ride back to Washington State and the SUV drive to Tacoma. The closer we got, the more my excitement grew, until it became too much and I started crying and giggling in Jacob's arms. Leah was alive; we were going to be reunited with her. My skin felt stretched, the excited energy inside me threatening to violently explode out of me. The huge mob that had gathered before the hotel—our Gods were staying here, along with Leah—slowed our convoy to a crawl. There were just so many people for blocks crowding the streets in worship of Mark and Mary. The snails pace reduced me to frustrated shouts. I didn't care that all these people were worshiping my Gods; I just wanted to see my wife. No. I needed to see my wife and to hold her and make sure she was alright.

"C'mon!" I screamed. "Just run them over!"

The bodyguard driving—a sultry, Latina whose silver choker named her 43—gave me a peculiar look, but ignored my command.

"It'll just be a few more minutes," Jacob soothed, pulling me closer to him.

"How can you be so calm!" I snapped. "Don't you care about her!"

Anger flashed across his face, but he relaxed it away. Jacob rarely showed his passion outside of the bedroom. "You know I care. I want to see her just as badly as you do."

"Then show it, dammit!"

"That's not fair, Rach!" He stared fixedly at me. "I've been by your side this entire damned weekend glued to the fucking TV, hoping for news that she lived."

Guilt flooded me. "Sorry," I muttered, then let out a frustrated scream and pounded on the side of the SUV.

He kissed my forehead. "I know."

Finally the convoy fought through the crowd and we pulled up at the Hotel Murano. I almost tripped and fell on my face in my haste to escape the SUV. I didn't pause to admire the fires that danced before the beige, stone walls of the hotel's exterior; I only had eyes for my brunette wife standing awkwardly in the hotel lobby. She wore a tan, terrycloth robe wrapped about her figure and a timid smile on her angelic face.

"Leah!" I shouted, throwing my arms around her and kissing her lush lips. Leah stood frozen for a moment, then her arms wrapped around me and she returned my kiss with passion.

"You look like hell, Rachel" Leah giggled when I broke the kiss.

I probably did. I had barely slept in three days, and hadn't taken a shower once or even ran a comb through my bushy, brown hair. Leah looked tired, dark bags beneath her eyes, but she smelled of rose soap and lavender shampoo, and her skin was white and lustrous.

"You had us worried," I told her.

Jacob swept the both of us up in a hug, his thick glasses askew as he kissed Leah just as passionately and lovingly as I had. "Are you okay?" he gently asked, caressing her cheek.

"I'm fine," Leah answered; her tone was a little flat, her hazel eyes shifting. Before I could press her, she gushed, "You have got to see our rooms. Our Gods gave us a beautiful suite." Her smile turned arched. "And a huge bed."

Jacob grinned, his glasses slipping more, and I was afraid they were about to fall off his nose. So I reached up and pushed them into place. My reward was wonderful kiss—strong lips, rough stubble; a man's kiss—and I felt my knees grow weak. I loved my husband as much as my wife.

"Let's go check out this bed," he smiled, an arm around each of his pretty wives.

There was something I wanted to ask Leah, but Jacob's kiss drove it right out of my mind. I'm sure I'll remember it before too long."Okay, let's," I answered, leaning on my husband's shoulder. I smiled, Leah leaned against his other shoulder and seductively licked her tongue at me.

We entered an elevator and Leah pounced on Jacob, fumbling for his belt. "Fuck me!" she moaned.

"In the elevator," Jacob flushed.

"Yes," purred Leah. "I need your cock! Take me! Use me for your pleasure!"

The robe slipped off Leah's body and Jacob's cock bulged his pants. Her large breasts were full and round, topped with fat nipples and areolas larger than a silver dollar. She turned around, waggling her fine ass at Jacob. He was a man; his pants were undone in a flash, his cock out, and he buried himself into her pussy.

"What floor?" I asked as I watched my husband's ass flex as he pounded my wife's cunt. He had a cute butt.

"17th," she moaned. "Fuck me! Pound my nasty cunt!"

I frowned; Leah was sounding like a slutty party-girl, like she was a bottled blonde again. "Because blonde's have all the fun," she had explained that adventuresome weekend. But we gave up being blondes, allowing our original, boring, brown hair to come back, and promised to be Jacob's loving wives not his sluts. I grabbed Leah's hand; something was wrong with her, so I gave her a comforting squeeze.

"Give me kiss, Rachel," Leah purred at me. "Umm, let me finger you and make you cum like a whore while Jacob makes me scream!"

She jerked her hand from mine, and shoved it beneath my skirt. I wore no panties since the Church taught that a women should be ready to be fucked at all times, even if I only slept with Jacob and Leah—and sometimes with Mark and Mary, but they were my Gods. She shoved a finger roughly inside me, her thumb pressing hard on my clit. I moaned, and Leah leaned in and kissed me, shoving her tongue inside my mouth. Her fingers felt so good in my pussy that I melted into her kiss, losing myself to my wife's pleasure.

Jacob fucked her hard. Her heavy breasts bounced and jiggled as she braced her arms against the elevator's wall. The slap of flesh echoed throughout the metal box and the smell of pussy filled my nose; the spicy, tart musk of our arousals. Her fingers built a fire inside me, burning hot and fast. The elevator doors dinged, sliding open, and the fire consumed me; my knees buckled beneath the pleasure, and I fell to the floor.

Leah licked her fingers. "Umm, you taste wonderful, slut." She held her fingers over her shoulder and Jacob sucked them into her mouth.

"You do taste amazing, Rach!" Jacob panted. "Keep squeezing your cunt, Leah. I'm gonna cum!"

"Do it!" Leah purred. "Cum in my dirty snatch." Her hazel eyes—lidded with lust—found mine. "I'm going to make you clean my pussy afterwards, Rachel. You're a little slut that just loves the taste of cum and pussy, aren't you?"

"Gods, I love watching my wives eating creampie!" grunted Jacob. His face contorted like he was in pain, and he buried himself into Leah's pussy, pumping her full of seed. "Gods, that was great, Leah." He kissed he neck. "I love you so much."

"Thanks, stud," Leah said. "You gave me a good fucking."

I was holding the elevator doors open at this point, and Leah sauntered past me, white cum running thick down her thighs. She leaned against the hallway's wall, spread her legs, and smiled invitingly at me. I licked my lips; I wanted to talk to Leah about what was wrong with her, but the sight of my husband's sperm running out of my wife's snatch was too much to resist.

"Oh fuck! Eat me slut!" Leah moaned.

My tongue swept through her pussy and gathered thick clumps of cum mixed with her spicy and tart juices. I feasted on her, pushing my tongue deep into her hole; eager to find as much jizz as I could. Her hands gripped my hair as her hips writhed, smearing her pussy across my face. I savored her taste and her wonderful, tart scent, leaving me feeling heady with lust; my own pussy felt on fire.

"Fucking slut! Eat me!" she gasped. "Yes, yes! Fuck! Fuck! I love to be eaten by a slut! A nasty, cum-eating slut!"

Her body shuddered, juices flooding my lips, and I drank them all down as her orgasm burst through her. I pulled my face away, looking up at her through the valley between her heaving breasts. Something was really wrong, she never talks this dirty in bed. "Is everything all—"

"Gods, are you hard already, Jacob?" Leah purred, grasping his hard cock.

"That was so hot," Jacob answered. "You know how much I love watching you and Rachel eating my creampies."

Leah gave a wicked laugh. "And we love to eat them. But now I'm hungry for some sausage. C'mon Rachel, let's share this cock! It'll be yummy after marinating in my sauce." She grabbed both our hands, leading us down the hallway.

We couldn't get into the room; Leah's keycard was in her terrycloth robe that now was riding around in the elevator. That didn't stop her. She pushed me down to my knees, then joined me, and pulled Jacob's cock into my lips. He tasted amazing, spicy and tart from Leah's pussy.

"Don't hog him," Leah giggled after a minute, pushing me off and sucking our husband's cock into her mouth, deep-throating Jacob without issue.

I found his hairy balls, sucking the salty orbs into my lips as Leah bobbed up and down on his shaft. Jacob's wonderful, manly musk filled my nostrils: sour sweat, salt, and cum. She released his cock after a few more bobs, kissing down it and sucking his other ball into her lips. Our smooth cheeks rubbed together and our lips briefly touched. Then we licked slowly up his throbbing shaft, exploring his head with our tongues. Our lips met, and we kissed each other around his cock.

"Oh Gods!" Jacob moaned. "That's so hot!" Hot spunk splashed on our faces, salty and warm, running thickly down my cheeks.

"Nothing's prettier than a slut covered in cum," Leah purred, then licked a line of cum up my cheek to my forehead.

"Leah, we should talk," I tried to say, before she shoved a cum-covered tongue into my mouth. Jacob's cock, still hard, brushed our cheeks, smearing more jizz on our faces. I pulled back from the kiss. "Leah!" I protested. "We need to..."

"Jacob, did you take one of Sam's pills?" Leah asked slyly, ignoring me. The first thing the hermaphroditic Vizier invented was magical Viagra. A man could achieve the level of stamina that our God possessed for a few hours.

"I did," Jacob admitted. "I was so excited to see you. I wanted to be ready to please both of my women."

Leah giggled. "I know just the place for this cock." She paused, stroking his cock, a dramatic smile on her face. "In my ass!"

"Absolutely!" Jacob agreed.

Leah fluttered her hazel eyes at me. "Be a good slut and eat my ass out. Get me nice and wet, will you?"

As I opened my mouth to object, the elevators doors opened, and Leah dashed in and reclaimed her keycard. Before I knew what was happening, I was dragged into our suite, had my clothes stripped off, and found my faced buried between Leah's soft butt-cheeks, tonguing away at her sour asshole. If I was a stronger woman, who could actually control her desires, I wouldn't be swirling my tongue inside her bowels, and I would force Leah to talk to me.

"Ohh, that's a good slut," Leah purred.

Why couldn't I have more self-control? But her ass was so tasty and Jacob's cock was fucking my pussy from behind, stirring my passions into a frothy mess. Leah was hurting, hiding behind her party-girl slut act and pretending to be a blonde again—I needed to find out why.

Just as soon as Jacob made me cum; his cock felt too amazing in my cunt to stop now. I wiggled my hips as I tongued Leah's tight asshole, moaning the entire time as Jacob's dick stirred my snatch. His vigorous strokes churned a storm of passion inside me. Electricity crackled through me every time his balls slapped into my clit.

"Eat my ass, slut!" Leah grunted. "You dirty whore, put that mouth of yours to work! Umm, you don't care how filthy it is! You just want to get me off! Make me cum! I'm a nasty whore! I love your tongue wiggling up my ass! Yes, yes! I love it! I'm a filthy, nasty whore!"

Her asscheeks clenched, pushing against my face as her passion shuddered through her, reducing her to wordless moans. The storm inside me—spurred by her words, her passion—crashed against the levy holding back my orgasm, flooding my body with intense, agonizing pleasure. I collapsed on the bed; orgasm after orgasm surging through me—the levy was gone and nothing was left to hold my rapture back.

"Fuck my dirty ass!" Leah moaned as I came back to my senses.

I think I must have blacked-out for a minute. The bed squeaked as Jacob pounded his cock into her butthole. They were lying on their side and Jacob was pressed against her back, his hands reaching around her body to grope her heavy tits. I watched in fascination as his hard shaft disappeared between her round cheeks. "Fuck my whorish ass! Make me cum! Use me! Cum in me! I'm your dirty slut!"

"Yes you are!" moaned Jacob, thrusting harder. "I love your filthy ass, Leah."

"Fuck me! Fuck me! It's what I was made for! It's all I'm good for! Let my tight ass make you cum hard, babe!"

It's all I'm good for!

Her words shook me out of my reverie. I looked into her hazel eyes, past the lust and passion, to the disgust, the revulsion, lurking in the depths of her soul. Oh Gods, what had happened to her? What did she do to make her feel so worthless? To hate herself so much?

What had that bastard Brandon done to my beautiful wife?

"Fucking slut!" Jacob moaned.

"She's not a slut!" I shouted, slapping Jacob's shoulder. "She's your wife!"

Jacob stopped fucking her, staring hurt at me. "I was just...of course she's not a slut. We're just roleplaying, right?"

"No," I told him, stroking Leah's face. "Oh Gods, you're not a filthy slut, Leah. You're a beautiful woman and we love you so much."

The disgust buried in her eyes twisted across her face. "No I'm not! Now keep fucking me, Jacob! Make me cum! Spill your seed in me and then toss me aside." Tears were brimming in her eyes. "It's all I'm good for."

"I would never toss you aside," Jacob said softly, kissing her cheek. "I love you."

"That's because you don't know what I did!" Bitter anger marred her features.

"Nothing you could do would make me love you less," Jacob stated firmly.

"We love you with all our hearts, Leah," I nodded, stroking her face. "Forever."

She flinched and a ragged sob escaped her lips. "You don't get it! I'm a terrible person!"

I cupped her face, staring into her hazel eyes. "No you are not!"

"I fucked a lot of soldiers," she said, her lips twisting bitterly. "I let them use my body. I begged them for it. It's all I'm good for! All I can do is satisfy men with my mouth, my cunt, and my ass! So keep fucking me!"

"No," Jacob said, pulling out of her ass. "I'll make love to you, but I won't fuck you."

I never loved my husband more. "Did they...rape you?" I asked, fearing her answer.

"No. I wanted them to do it! I would have gladly been their whore!" She was sobbing, shaking, fear dilating her eyes until they were black pools. "Anything to escape Molech."

Molech?

"That's from the Tanakh," Jacob said. "He was a god, I think, one of the pagan ones."

"He's real," Leah whimpered. "He would walk out and choose one of us for his...pleasure." She seemed to shrink, transforming into a scared, little girl. "They would just scream as he dragged them off. Just scream and scream and scream, and then Molech would come back and choose again." Her eyes became pleading, fixing on mine. "I had to whore myself out. It got me away from him for a short time! He couldn't choose me if I was fucking the soldiers! I would have done anything to get away from that monster!"

Oh Gods! My poor, beautiful wife; my heart broke, and my own tears came. Jacob looked stunned, horrified.

"I'm so sorry," she sobbed. "I broke my marriage vows. I was a dirty, filthy whore!"

Jacob hugged her from behind and I hugged her from the front. We held our trembling wife between us, stroking her gently. "You didn't cheat on us," Jacob whispered. "You did what you had to do. You survived. You were strong and you fought to get back to us. I'm so proud of you."

"Really?" her voice croaked like a little girls'.

"Yes, Leah," I told her, smoothing her face. "We love you and we're so happy to have you back. It's not cheating if your choice was between fucking a few soldiers or death. You're not a dirty, filthy whore. You are a strong, beautiful woman. You are our wife."

"You don't hate me?"

"How could we ever hate you?" I kissed her cheek. "Jacob and I love you with all our hearts."

Leah sobbed between us, clinging to me like a helpless little girl, her tears hot on my neck. Jacob's arms were wrapped around the both of us, his lips gently kissing at the nape of her neck. Leah poured her terror, shame, disgust and her self-loathing into my neck while I gently stroked her brown hair.

"It's over, baby," I cooed. "It's all over."

"I'm...not...dirty?" she sobbed, her words punctuated by hiccups.

Jacob, cupped her chin, turning her head and kissed her gently on the lips. I joined them, our lips and tongues tangled with each other. The kiss was pure as fresh snow; a loving melding of three people, three souls.

A smile broached Leah's face, beautiful despite being tear-stained and blotchy, and giggled, "Jacob's been hard this entire time."

"Sorry," Jacob muttered. "It's the...uh...pill."

"I bet you're so hard it hurts," Lean purred.

"That's not important," he dismissed.

Leah wiggled her hips, his cock must be pressed against her ass. "Why don't you slip that wonderful shaft back into my hot ass and make love to me."

"Gladly." Jacob's grin was broad and I chortled.

"You're such a guy, Jacob," I fondly smiled. "Always thinking with your cock."

"But it's such a wonderful cock," Leah giggled. "And it...oh yes...feels so wonderful inside me."

"Well, you do have a point," I pretended to consider. "It does feel wonderful in my pussy."

Leah raised on an eyebrow. "Only your pussy?"

"It feels wonderful in all my holes!" I declared.

Leah stroked my face, and grasped a strand of my hair, twirling it about her finger. She tugged it, bringing my face closer, so she could give me a kiss full of passion and tongue. Her hands reached behind me and squeezed my ass, pulling our pussies tight against each other's thighs.

She moaned into my lips; her cunt shoved against my thigh as Jacob thrust his cock into her ass. "Oh, Gods," he groaned. "Sweet Mary, that's a beautiful feeling."

Jacob's every slow stroke pressed our flesh together; her cunt was wet, juicy with passion, and her clit was hard with throbbing arousal. Her hands kneaded my ass as I worked my hips, finding a rhythm with Jacob's thrust, and we made wonderful love to our wife. My hand slid from her thigh, brushing her plump ass cheeks, and up her side, groping her pillowy tit, before repeating the journey. Jacob's hand found mine, and we roamed her body together.

I broke the kiss, moaning, "My beautiful wife! My pussy's on fire for you."

"Are you going to cum?" Leah asked me.

I humped harder against her. "Yes!" I hissed. I was climbing that peak, nearing my glorious release. Every thrust of my hips and juicy rub of my cunt on her silken thigh propelled me higher and higher up the orgasm peak.

"Cum for me, my love," Leah purred. "Oh, Gods, your thigh's driving me wild!"

"What about me?" Jacob asked.

Leah giggled, "Your cock's stirring my ass up. By Mary's tits, I'm going to explode!"

She shrieked wildly, her body bucking between Jacob and me. "Fuck!" Jacob moaned. "Your tight ass! Oh, Gods, it's squeezing my cock!"

"Yes, yes, cum in my ass!" Leah moaned, her orgasm still crashing through her. "Pour that wonderful love into me!"

I shuddered, sliding my clit up her thigh lubed by my fragrant juices. I reached the summit, and climaxed. I gasped and panted, Leah's face nuzzling my neck as I writhed against her sleek body. The pleasure peaked and then it retreated, and I collapsed into a breathless heap. Leah cuddled against me and Jacob hugged both of us. I enjoyed the feel of my wife's body pressed against me, her musk filling my nose.

"You two are the best," Leah muttered, a smile on her face as she was sandwiched between us.

I gently kissed her lips. "You're not that bad yourself, cutie."

Leah shifted, looking over her shoulder at Jacob. "Are you still hard?"

"Of course," he smiled, "I have two sexy women in bed with me."

"Maybe I should do something about that," I said archly.

"What did you have in mind?" Leah asked.

"He hasn't fucked my ass yet, can you get me ready?"

"I'd love to." Leah moved, spreading my cheeks, and licked through my crack.

I closed my eyes, enjoying my wife's tongue, knowing she was back where she belonged—with Jacob and me. This weekend taught me just how fragile life, how fragile happiness, could be. So you should seize any opportunity for happiness and life that you could.

I planned on seizing plenty of both tonight with my two loves!

---

The Devil's Pact Chapter 40: The Patriots

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Fantasy, Anal, Ass to mouth, Ass to pussy, Blowjob, Exhibitionism, Female / Girl, Female/Female, Incest, Lesbian, Male / Females, Male/Female, Male/Teen Female, Mind Control, Oral Sex, Threesome, Wife

Introduction:

As Mark and Mary struggle to get the Country and the World under their control, the Patriots plot in the shadows.

Chapter Forty: The Patriots

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The Tyrants, Mark and Mary Glassner, represent the greatest threat to Liberty in human history. As the great Statesmen Thomas Jefferson wrote in 'The Declaration of Independence', "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they were endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that amongst these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness." To this end, we the Patriots of the United States, shall bring about the Tyrants' death, and restore a state of Liberty to all those they have enslaved. Our forefathers shed their blood to keep this Country Free; we shall not hesitate to shed ours.

–excerpt from 'The Patriots Manifesto', author Unknown

Tuesday, October 1st, 2013 – Mark Glassner – Murano Hotel, Tacoma, WA

A light rap woke me up.

I was in a strange room; panic seized me. Where was I? Did Brandon capture me?

No, Brandon's dead. I had him executed yesterday. Relief flooded through me. Then where was I? Not my bedroom. Then I remembered—Brandon had burned our house down, destroying every possession and memory we had made. I was in the largest suite of the Hotel Murano in downtown Tacoma. It was our temporary home until the mansion could be constructed.

Mary slept next to me, her arms wrapped tightly about me, as if she was afraid even in sleep to let go of me. Locks of auburn hair spilled across my chest like silken flames. I felt safe in her arms, loved, and I kissed my wife's freckled cheek.

There was another rap, slightly harder. I tried to sit up, but Mary had me in such a tight grip. She seemed terrified to let go of me, not that I blamed her after Brandon's attack. This weekend had been a close one; I thought I was going to die, but Mary had been spectacular. I felt pride bloom in my chest as I remembered the courage she had displayed.

I shook Mary and she stirred and smiled as she looked up at me.

"Good morning," she purred and kissed me on the lips.

The rap was even harder.

"What?" I asked in some irritation. My cock was growing hard as my wife's body pressed against me.

The door opened; April and Lillian walked in bearing covered trays. Lillian wore a sexy, French-maid outfit with a bodice so low-cut her breasts looked like they were about to fall out if she bent over. About her narrow hips clung an extremely short skirt that showed off her fine legs, clad in fishnet stockings. Black hair, streaked with blues and purples, was gathered into a pair of pigtails that added an innocent look to her whorish outfit.

April wore her glasses, and her youthful face was surrounded by her thick, brown hair. Instead of a maid's outfit she wore a naughty schoolgirl's uniform: a white blouse, knotted just below her budding breasts to expose her flat stomach; a very short blue-and-purple tartan skirt that rode low on her hips; and knee-high, white socks added that sexy yet virginal look that made my cock ache. I could feel Mary's breath quicken at the sight of them. Tight about both girls' necks were gold chokers that proclaimed them to be our sluts; they looked it this morning.

"Your mother asked us to bring you breakfast," April explained.

"And the outfits?" Mary asked. "I know you didn't have those yesterday."

Lillian laughed, "Well, after you and Master retired for the night we raided a sex shop. Well, all of us except for Alison and Desiree." She spun about carefully. "Do you like it?"

"You two look delicious!" Mary purred.

"Would you like breakfast first, or us?" April asked, batting her eyelashes at me.

"You," Mary and I said in unison.

April walked around to my side of the bed while Lillian strutted around to Mary's. April set her tray – silver, the edge worked with a rope-like pattern, and a matching dome covered the food to keep it warm – down on the nightstand. I threw back the covers and my hot little schoolgirl crawled in and kissed me on the lips. I stroked her full, brown hair, then slid my hand down to rub her flat belly. My child grew inside her; according to Willow I knocked her up the day I took her virginity.

April rolled on top of me, rubbing her naked pussy into my stomach. She was shaved bare and dripping wet, staining my abs with her juices. She broke the kiss and started moving lower, her lips warm as she smooched down my body; her thick hair tickled like silk on my chest. When she reached my stomach, I squirmed as her tongue licked up the puddle her cunt left behind.

Next to me, Mary had pulled Lillian on top of her and freed her left breast, sucking Lillian's nipple into her hungry lips. Lillian smiled at me; her piercings glinted silver on her eyebrow, nose, and lip. Mary released the hard nipple and grabbed Lillian's pigtails. "Eat my pussy, slut!" Mary commanded.

"I'd love to, Mistress," Lillian cooed and wiggled down Mary's body, pulling the covers away and exposing my wife's waxed and dripping cunt.

April's wet mouth reached my cock and she kissed her way up the shaft. She looked so cute as her tongue started tracing the rim of my mushroom-shaped cockhead. "You little minx," I groaned as her mouth engulfed my cock.

She smiled around my dick, her eyes flashing blue behind her glasses. Then she began bobbing her head. The naughty schoolgirl was hungry for my cum. One hand pumped my shaft, the other massaged my balls. She twisted her mouth around as she moved on my dick, brushing my cock against her cheeks and the roof of her mouth.

"Cock-hungry slut!" I groaned.

She popped off my cock just long enough to giggle, "Of course I am. It tastes so delicious, Master!"

Mary moaned and I glanced over to see her using Lillian's pigtails as handlebars, guiding the slut's mouth on her pussy. "Yes, right there!" Mary moaned. "Suck right there, whore!"

April's mouth was bringing me to a boil. "Gonna cum!" I grunted.

April knew what to do: her mouth released my cock, and she rapidly pumped my shaft with her hand. My muscles tensed as my balls emptied themselves, spraying her face and glasses with streaks of ropey cum. She smiled happily, licking a glob that landed by her lips. More strands fell across her glasses, cheeks, forehead, and hair; sticky whiteness striped her innocent face with depravity.

"Fuck that's hot!" Mary gasped, staring at April. Then her back arched and she gasped as an orgasm flooded her body. Lillian looked like the cat who got all the cream as she sat up, licking her pussy-stained lips.

"Let's switch," Mary panted, still eying April's cum-splattered glasses.

I glanced at Lillian and her sexy maid's outfit and nodded. "Come ride my cock, slut. Reverse cowgirl. I want to watch that ass beneath your skirt."

Lillian stood up, walking around the bed as Mary grabbed April and pulled her off of me, stretching the schoolgirl out on the bed. Mary settled her weight atop April, her fingers quickly unknotting the slut's blouse. Budding breasts spilled out and Mary sucked a dark nipple into her mouth before licking up to April's face.

I almost came in Lillian's cunt as she slid it down my cock. It was so fucking hot watching Mary lick my cum off the girl's face. She moved up to April's glasses, her tongue sliding pink across the lens and scooping up a smear of cum. Mary's ass flexed as she began tribbing the slut, rubbing her clit against the schoolgirl's.

"That's so hot, Mare!"

Mary grinned at me, my cum on her lips. "Give my stallion a good ride, Lillian!"

"Yes, Mistress!" Lillian moaned as she fucked me.

I glanced at her ass. When Lillian rose up, the skirt would lift up as well, exposing her sexy cheeks. When she slammed down, the skirt would fall back to cover her ass. Then she would rise up and expose that beautiful butt all over again. The flash of flesh above my cock added a thrilling excitement. Lillian began to add a twist, shaking her ass side-to-side as she rode me, her cunt rubbing tightly around my cock.

"Oh Mistress!" April moaned. "Your pussy feels so good on me! Umm, thank you! Thank you!"

"Faster!" I urged Lillian. "Fuck me hard and fast, slut!"

Lillian picked up the pace, her pigtails flailing about as she threw her head back-and-forth in pleasure. Her cunt started massaging my cock as an orgasm rolled through the slut; her snatch felt wonderful about my shaft as she came. She kept right on riding my cock—she knew her duty as a slut was to give me pleasure.

"Our nipples are kissing!" April panted.

"Your little cunt is driving mine wild," Mary purred into April's ears. "Cum with me, slut! Let's flood each other with our juices!"

"Yes, yes! Just a little more, Mistress! Umm, I love it when our clits kiss!"

"Shit! You little whore! I'm cumming all over your cunt!"

"So am I!" April howled. "I'm cumming! Thank you, thank you, Mistress!"

Lillian bounced hard on my cock, plunging me in and out of her tight tunnel. "Cum in me, Master! Please, my naughty pussy needs your cum! My cunt missed you so much, Master!"

I grabbed her hips and slammed her all the way down onto my cock and erupted into her. "There you go, slut! Devour my cum!" I grunted as my entire body tensed in pleasure.

The feeling of my jizz shooting inside her pussy sent Lillian shuddering in passion. "Yes, yes! I love to feel your cum shooting inside me!"

She slid off me, turned around and snuggled against my chest with a happy sigh. April nuzzled at Mary's neck as the two held each other. My hand reached out and I found my wife's. I stroked it gently, then squeezed softly. I smiled as her fingers lovingly clasped about my hand.

"Oh no!" Mary suddenly gasped, quickly untangling herself from April, and dashed for the bathroom. "This is all your fault, Mark Glassner!" Mary moaned from the bathroom.

Mary's bout of morning sickness wasn't that bad and, after I helped to clean her up, we ate our delicious breakfast. Mary's was light—strawberry pancakes and a bowl of berries. My plate had scrambled eggs, waffles topped with bananas, bacon, and sausages. I guessed my mom wanted to make sure I ate enough. I was famished, and finished it off before Mary was even done with her pancakes.

We had a busy day ahead of us. We needed to solidify our control over the country; the heads of all the Federal Agencies were supposed to be on their way here, and that was a start. Mary and I talked for an hour, discussing various ways to exert our control over the government. We settled on Video Conferences; we would arrange live broadcasts for government employees to watch at work, placing them under our power.

When we finished breakfast and talking, Jessica walked in with a manila file folder in hand. She found a sexy genie outfit: green, transparent pantaloons and a transparent boob tube over which she wore a small vest decorated with gold embroidery. The outfit was probably supposed to be worn with underwear but I'm glad she didn't because I enjoyed seeing her shaved cunt and caramel breasts through the fabric.

"Masters," Jessica said, sitting on the bed. "The Country and the World are in a lot of turmoil, which is to be expected. The Governors of New Hampshire, Texas, Florida, and California are openly talking about mobilizing their National Guard units to protect themselves from 'the Tyrants of the Northwest.' Congress is split; both the Republican and Democratic parties are being ripped apart as roughly half of congress seeks to impeach the President and the other half sings your praises. It almost came to blows. I've never seen C-SPAN so entertaining before."

I groaned. We needed to get the State Governors and Congress under our thumbs, before this spins out of control. "What else?"

"Riots," Jessica sighed. "Between Miraclists on one side and Christians, Muslims, and Orthodox Jews on the other. Particularly in the Mid-West and the South."

"What about the International reaction?" Mary asked, nibbling on a strawberry.

"Muslim nations are universally condemning you two as the new Great Satans and there must be a thousand fatwas being declared against you. Europe is split. Many EU heads-of-state were watching the events here in Tacoma, but not all of them – just like here in the States – caught it live. The Prime Minister of the United Kingdoms supports you, but he's probably going to lose power. There's a vote of no-confidence going to be brought before Parliament tomorrow. Also expect the UN to try and pass some sort of resolution against you today."

Her news just seemed to get even worse. Every military in the world was being mobilized to either support or oppose us. Trading was halted on the New York Stock Exchange as the indexes plummeted, and the Asian and European Markets were crashing as a growing lack of confidence in the American economy was spreading.

"Is that it?" I sighed. This was going to be a lot harder than I thought.

Jessica shook her head no. "At the end of July, a Professor Scrivener was killed. Brandon Fitzsimmons was a person of interest in his death. Apparently, the Professor left behind some documents pointing the finger at Brandon. These documents, and the Professor's translation of the Magicks of the Witch of Endor, ended up on the internet. They first appeared on the University of Wisconsin's website, and from there they've spread to a number of occult or New Age sites. The largest site it's found on is where dozens of people have posted that they've made Pacts with Lucifer."

"Are you saying there are dozens of Warlocks that've popped up?" I asked.

"Yes, Master. If dozens are posting that they've done it, how many are staying silent? Only a minority of people ever comment out of the hundreds that see something on the internet."

"There could be hundreds of Warlocks out there?"

"Fuck," Mary whispered.

Sunday, October 6th, 2013 – Mark Glassner – Washington D.C.

Korina smiled at me – lighting up her doll's face and seeming to make her sapphire eyes twinkle – as she slipped out of the slutty maid's outfit, the black dress falling in a pile about her feet. She was naked underneath – like a good little slut should be – and her large breasts jiggled as the plane flew through a patch of turbulence. My cock was hard, eager to be inside her cunt.

I was in the bedroom of Air Force One. I commandeered it from the President. He could fly on one of the many VIP planes the Air Force maintained for other important dignitaries now that the USA was subordinate to our Theocracy. There was a nice, if not spacious, cabin with a bed on the plane for the President's use, which I currently lay naked on. Desiree and Alison slept next to me—cuddled cutely together.

In the week since we defeated Brandon and declared ourselves Gods and Protectors of the United States and the World, Mary and I had been busy. Giving interviews, making phone calls, trying to get as many people in power as possible under our control. We started with the Federal Agencies. When the President summoned them to Washington State the Director of the CIA, the Department of Energy, and the Chairmen of the Federal Reserve all resigned in protest; their replacements were much more amenable. All the Federal Agencies were now run by people under our power and this week we were going to start the video conferences to get federal employees, particularly the law enforcement and spy agencies, under our umbrella.

I was flying alone to Washington D.C. to make Congress our Thralls, while Mary was heading to a meeting of State Governors in New York City to do the same thing. Then she was going to work on the UN who had been busy trying to pass sanctions on the US and our Theocracy. I hated being apart from my wife, but we could get more done separately then together. I tried not to fear for her safety, reminding myself that she had a battalion of soldiers and bodyguards to protect her.

The Military was one of the first things we got under our thumb. The only US Forces not under our control were in Afghanistan—General Brice Fear had refused the President's orders. His army was split between commanders loyal to him and commanders under our power. The two forces have been skirmishing in Kabul for two days now.

I pulled Korina to me, kissing her on the lips, feeling her body press up against mine. I loved the feel of her breasts pillowing against my chest. Our kiss grew more passionate and I pulled her down to the bed.

"Mmm, you feel all hard and ready for me," Korina cooed. "Which slutty hole should I use to satisfy you, Master?"

"Why don't you choose," I told her and a big grin filled her face.

She rolled off of me, facedown on the bed, sliding a pillow beneath her stomach, which raised up her plump ass. She wiggled it invitingly at me and I slid on top of her, kissing at her neck. "Good choice, slut."

"Thank you, Master!" she cried out as I rammed my dick into her pussy, getting a nice coating of juices on my cock.

I pulled out of her inviting cunt, spread her asscheeks and placed the head of my shaft at her puckered hole. I pushed slowly, softly groaning as her tight ass enveloped my cock. Korina panted, looking back at me with a happy smile as I drove all the way into her taut embrace. I drew back, savoring the pleasure of her bowels, before driving back in.

"I love your ass, slut!"

"Thank you, Master! I live to pleasure you and Mistress! It's what I was born for."

I heard a giggle and glanced over to see Alison and Desiree watching. Alison was on top of Desiree, their breasts and cheeks mashed together, chokers glinting gold about their necks. A female soldier had returned Desiree's choker the day after we defeated Brandon, begging her forgiveness for taking it. Desiree forgave her by fucking her up the ass with a strap-on, followed by Alison; the soldier loved every second of it.

"Fuck her hard, Master," Alison purred.

Desiree smiled, wonderful, beautiful, bringing joy to my heart. Alison had managed to bring the Latina woman out of her shell after Brandon's brutal rapes. Desiree wrapped her legs around her wife's hips and pulled Alison's pussy against hers. Alison kissed her wife, rotating her hips as the women tribbed each other. I kept pounding Korina's ass and watched the beautiful women make love.

"¡Mi Sirenita! Desiree moaned as she tribbed Alison back.

I gripped Korina's hips and pumped faster into her ass. "Yes, yes! Fuck me, Master! Use me for your pleasure! Oh fuck! Your cock is the best! I love you! Oh, yes! You're driving me crazy! Harder! I'm your bitch! Fuck me like one!"

My balls slapped at her cunt – adding a wet, staccato beat to our rutting, a primal rhythm – as I pounded her asshole. "Fucking whore! Your ass is going to make me cum, slut!"

"Cum in me! Please! I love it when I feel your jizz inside me, Master!"

I buried into her warm depths and groaned, shooting her full of my seed. Her bowels clenched about my cock as her orgasm exploded through her. I laid on top of her, enjoying the feel of her asshole massaging my softening cock as I watched Alison's ass flex as she pumped faster and faster on Desiree.

They were kissing passionately, both bucking and shuddering. Alison broke the kiss, her back arching. "Holy shit! I love you, Desiree! I love it when your pussy creams all over mine!"

"Cum for me!" Desiree panted, grasping Alison's breast and playing with her pierced nipple. "Cum my love!"

Alison drove her cunt one last time into Desiree, her ass clenching as her orgasm tore through her, then she collapsed on her wife and the pair kissed and murmured affections to each other. God, it made me miss my own wife.

As Korina started licking my cock clean of her ass like a good slut, I sent a thought to Mary. *I love you.*

*Oh, I love you, too, Mark* her thought came back. I could feel her lust; she was fucking someone.

*Who're you fucking?*

*This cute bellhop, though his dick isn't as great as yours.*

My cock was hard, Korina had it in her mouth. Alison had joined her, helping her lick my cock clean. Alison's tongue drew up my shaft, her tongue's piercing hard and smooth in contrast to her soft tongue. She reached the top, brushing Korina's tongue, and the two sluts kissed each other about my dick's head.

*Close your eyes and pretend it's my cock inside you* I sent. *You're riding your horny stallion, your back arched and my cock's driving you crazy.*

*Oh yes! Oh God, I'm riding your cock, stud! Umm, it feels so great as I slid up and down on it!*

Korina's mouth popped off my cock and I groaned as Alison's pierced tongue swirled around the head, the metal adding a thrilling sensation. Desiree knelt behind Korina, spreading her butt-cheeks, and bending down to suck my cum out of the slut's dirty asshole.

*Oh Mark! I'm gonna cum! Yes, yes! Oh, I so wish it was you inside me!* I could feel her passionate climax through the Siyach spell.

*I'm cumming in Alison's mouth, Mare!* I moaned. Feeling her climax sent me over the edge, and I flooded the slut's lips.

*I miss you, Mark* Mary sent, the passion dying away from her thoughts. *Umm, Xiu is licking me clean of his cum.*

"Sir," Joslyn's voice came over the intercom. Joslyn, along with Lydia, were the pilots. "We'll be landing soon!"

*We're about to land, Mare.*

*I think I'm going to fall asleep with Xiu nursing at my clit.*

*Good night, my naughty filly. I love you.*

*Love ya.* I could feel her drifting off to sleep.

Alison and Korina were kissing, swapping my cum as I started getting dressed in my suit. The sluts all, sadly, stopped playing around with each other and found their slutty maid outfits, then we left the small cabin. 51 and four squads of the bodyguard were taking their seats in the main cabin of the plane. Violet, dressed like a naughty schoolgirl, gave me a kiss on the mouth and sat on my lap. I had four sluts with me, the other four were with Mary.

Our bodyguard had tripled in the last week. Female cops from across the country flocked to Tacoma to volunteer to protect us, so Mary and I freed the original bodyguards that we had forced to serve us. 51 chose to stay – provided that I reunited her with her husband – along with a third of the other girls. The rest returned to their families and jobs. I'm glad 51 and 27 remained—we three survived Brandon's attack together. Since the second-in-command, 47, quit, I promoted 27 to her position. She more than earned it that weekend.

I looked out the window and saw a C-130 flying in formation with us. There were another three of those carrying elements of the Legion—the army that swore me their allegiance and that I had bound with the Ragily prayer, the Monk version of the Zimmah spell. We had yet to find my limit as to how many I could bind with the Ragily prayer, and already 10,000 members of the Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marines had taken the oath. Along with the C-130s, a squadron of F-22 Raptors flew in formation around us. Mary had a similar force guarding her in New York City.

We came in for a landing at Andrews Air Force Base outside of Washington D.C. Awaiting our arrival was an honor guard, made up of advanced elements of the Legion and the bodyguards, and a fleet of SUVs, Humvees, and Strykers that would escort my armored limo. It may be overkill, but I was taking no more chances. Brandon showed me just how dangerous a Warlock could be.

There were dozens, if not hundreds, of Warlocks out there, each with access to the Magicks of the Witch of Endor and capable of threatening us. We had the FBI shut down and any other websites where the translation appeared. Every time one was taken down, two more sprouted up like the severed head of the Hydra, on overseas sites in Russia, China, and other countries. Hackers and other internet freedom groups were starting to cause all sorts of problems from DOS attacks to releasing sensitive information.

Something had to be done about all these Warlocks. Jessica had given me a report of suspected Warlock activity. There was this Ghost of Paris that seemed to have knocked up half of a cheerleading squad in Texas and was daily molesting the women of the town. In South America, three separate men were fighting each other in Brazil, sending the country and its neighbors spiraling into chaos. A fourteen-year-old boy had just been elected President-for-Life in Spain, and in St. Paul, Minnesota a man calling himself Dr. Arthursson opened a clinic where he could reshape any woman to her ideal appearance in moments. He was charging a fortune for his services. One gave me a chuckle. In Glasgow, Scotland a man was flying around claiming he was Superman, complete with the tights and cape.

I bet Sam could figure out a spell to track down all these Warlocks. We needed to deal with them before things got too out of hand. She was supposed to be back from France in a day or two; was almost finished with her study of the Hidden Place in the basement of the Nun's Motherhouse.

Stairs were wheeled up to Air Force One and half of my bodyguards, led by 51, quickly went down them, dressed in their slutty cop outfits and armed with a mix of MP5s and M16s. Then Alison and Desiree descended, followed by me, with Violet, Korina, and the other half of the bodyguards bringing up the rear. The media was on hand, cameras flashing, and I waved to them as I walked to the armored limo.

Leah was waiting for me, smiling as she held the door open. She looked hot in her short, black skirt, fishnet stockings, and white bustier; a red-and-blue tie fell invitingly between her cleavage. A small, black jacket and a chauffeur's cap completed the outfit.

"My Lord," Leah murmured.

I stroked her cheek and gave her a kiss on the lips; she blushed prettily. Next time I was home, I needed to bring Leah and her wife to my bed. Mary would enjoy that, she liked the two women. Their husband Jacob wouldn't mind; I'd send him a few of the sluts to keep him busy.

My cock was hard just from looking at her; why wait for home? I kissed her a second time, pressing her against the body of the limo while my hand shoved into the cup of her bustier, feeling her large tit squeeze between my fingers. Her kiss grew passionate, her right leg hiking up, hooking around my left, and feistily rubbing up and down the back of mine.

I could hear the flash of cameras as the reporters immortalized the moment. Her hands found the zipper of my pants, pulling my cock out. I lifted her up, letting my cock prod her wet cunt. She moaned into my lips as I sank into her; there were no panties to get in the way. Her wet, warm sheath engulfed me, and I started pounding her cunt like a madman.

"Fuck me, my Lord!" she moaned, tossing her brown curls and humping her hips back into me. "Oh yes! Oh yes! I love it when you fuck me!"

Her moans were being broadcast live to the world. Like a firecracker, she went off fast and loud, her cunt squeezing my cock. It was so exciting – feeling her cunt massage my cock, knowing thousands were watching me fucking this slut in their homes – and I knew I wasn't going to last long. With a few hard thrusts, I shot my cum into her pussy, moaning loudly, and enjoying that tense feeling passing through my body as I released my passion into a woman's snatch.

"Thank you, my Lord!" she breathed as I pulled away, straightening her skirt.

"You're welcome," I told her, giving her ass a friendly squeeze, and then I piled into the back of the limo.

A few minutes later, we were driving away from the airfield and into the capitol, Alison cuddled on one side of me and Desiree on the other. The local police had shut down the highway and surface streets, and my motorcade made good time to the Willard Intercontinental, the hotel I was staying at. Out front, a large crowd of cheering people had gathered. I could see mostly black auras, belonging to Thralls, with a few silver auras – regular mortals – interspersed here and there.

When I got out of the limo, I let the crowds' worshipful cheers wash over me. It was the most intoxicating thing in the world. Soldiers formed a small aisle through the crowd to the hotel's entrance, and I shook hands and groped bared breasts as I slowly made my way to the lobby, my eyes roving for the perfect woman to take upstairs with me.

It was my custom now on these out-of-town trips to pick a lucky gal. Whether it was Mary and I together picking a woman, or just me on my own. I never looked for any particular woman, just whoever caught my eye. And tonight it was a teenage girl with a heart-shaped face. She looked so innocent with her plaited black hair and jean jacket. Next to her stood a more mature version of the girl, a woman in her late thirties. The daughter was taller, and barely had any tits, while the mom was short and very busty.

I motioned to the women and they both shrieked ecstatically. There was a tall man who the mother kissed and the daughter hugged, and he looked proud as his wife and daughter were brought to me. I wrapped my arms around each of them and kissed first the mom and then the daughter on the lips, before I took them into the hotel.

"I can't believe you chose us, my Lord," the teenage girl gushed. "Marcy and Amy will be so jealous!"

Her mother was crimson faced, breathing heavily. "Relax," I told her and kissed her again.

"I'm sorry, this is just so exciting!" the mom gushed. "I'm mean, it's you! When we joined the Living Church last August I never thought in a million years that you would ever bless me."

"So you two are true believes?" I asked. "Let's see if you follow the tenets."

The mom lifted up her dress first, exposing a shaved pussy with fat, dark lips hanging an inch down. The daughter followed, raising the hem of her jean skirt and I saw a dark, black bush and just the hint of a tight slit.

"What're your names?" I asked, reaching out to rub both of their pussies. They were both wet and I probed my finger up their snatches.

"I'm Tibby and this is my daughter Bryanna!" the mom gasped as I slowly fingerfucked her.

I pulled my fingers out of their cunts. Tibby tasted tart while Bryanna had a spicy, fresh flavor. The elevator dinged and I ushered the ladies inside the gilded box. The sluts and some of the bodyguards crowded in and we were heading up to the penthouse suite, where more bodyguards waited. They had arrived yesterday, an advance team to make sure everything was secure and ready for my arrival.

I led the mother and daughter to my bedroom, motioning at Violet to follow. It was richly furnished and very modern looking; weird lines and strange shapes abounded. Mary would probably have liked it—she was an artist—I didn't get this stuff at all. I sat down on a chair; its strange back, curving over my head, was a little uncomfortable. Maybe it wasn't intended to be sat on, but then why make it to begin with? Violet knew what to do, and knelt down and unzipped me and pulled my hard cock out.

Bryanna's breath caught as she saw it. "It's different than daddy's."

"Your dad is uncircumcised," Tibby explained as Violet's tongue danced across the head of my cock.

"Ohh," Bryanna said as her mom pulled off her thick sweater to reveal a pair of lush breasts barely contained by a lacy bra.

"Have either of you been with a woman before?" I asked them.

"No," Tibby answered, and Bryanna shook her head and blushed.

"Why not?"

"Well, we're straight," answered Tibby.

"You've just realized that you're bisexual," I ordered. "And that you are deeply attracted to each other. Why don't you two get naked and explore these new feelings."

"Wow, mom," Bryanna cooed. "That is a nice pair of hooters ya got."

Tibby reached behind her and unclasped her bra and freed her large breasts. They sagged a bit, but still looked great with large areolas and fat nipples. "Why don't you give them a feel?" she suggested to her daughter.

As Violet's mouth sucked my cock into her lips, Bryanna reached out and tentatively gave her mother's tit a squeeze. The teen's mouth opened in amazement as she began to knead the heavy orb. "I used to nurse from these, didn't I?"

"You did. I loved it. I felt so close to you when you nursed."

Bryanna ducked her head down and sucked her mother's nipple into her lips. I grabbed Violet's pigtails and began forcing her head up and down on my cock. I couldn't take my eyes off the women; I loved watching mothers and daughters fuck.

Tibby mewled in pleasure, cradling her child's head to her breast. "Oh duckling, that feels wonderful! Suck at momma's tit! I love you so much!"

Bryanna released the nipple. "I love you too, momma!" Then she stood up and kissed her mother on the lips. Tibby melted against her daughter, cupping her child's face, and kissed her back with passion. Bryanna was breathless when she broke the kiss.

"Umm, I want to see my little girl's hooters."

Bryanna flushed as her mom pushed her jean jacket off her shoulders. "Momma, you know I don't have any tits."

"You're still young, duckling."

"I'm sixteen, momma," she protested as her mom pulled her red peasant's blouse over her head. Her breasts were small, apple-sized, topped with puffy, pink nipples, and clearly didn't need a bra to support them.

"They are beautiful," Tibby insisted, giving her daughter's breast a squeeze, then rolled her nipple between her thumb. Tibby then bent down and sucked her daughter's nipple into her mouth.

"Oh, momma! That feels amazing! I'm nursing you now!"

The two women sank onto the bed; Tibby's lips glued to her daughter's breast. She pushed her daughter down onto her back, still sucking noisily at her tit, and ran her hands down Bryanna's side, reaching for her jean skirt. Tibby pulled it up, exposing her daughter's bushy twat. The teen gasped as her mother ran her fingers through her downy pubes and across her wet slit.

"Momma's gonna make her duckling feel wonderful," Tibby purred.

Tibby started kissing down her daughter's body and Bryanna's blue eyes sparkled with lust. "Oh momma!" she gasped as her mother spread her pussy lips open and dived in.

I began thrusting up into Violet's mouth as I watched this incestuous display. My balls tightened; my eyes rooted at the sight of Tibby working her tongue deep into her daughter's juicy snatch. I slammed into Violet's mouth and shot three large blasts of cum into her. Violet pulled off my cock, swallowing and smiling happily.

"Thank you, Master," she purred, stroking my cock.

"You did great, slut!"

I stood up, walked to the bed, and grasped the hem of Tibby's black skirt, lifting it up. I spread her pussy lips open, gazing into her wet, pink depths as she made her daughter pant. Her cunt was just at the right level to let me stand at the foot of the bed and fuck her. I rubbed my cock on her vulva and then thrust it into her sheath.

"Oh yes!" Tibby gasped. "Fuck me, my Lord!"

"Are you on birth control?" I asked as I pumped my cock in her wet pussy.

"No, neither of us are. My husband had a vasectomy," she answered. "You're going to pull out, right?"

I laughed, "Nope. I'm going to cum in your, and your daughter's, cunt. If you're lucky, you both might carry my child."

"That'd be wonderful, momma!" Bryanna gasped, pinching her puffy nipples.

"Yeah, I guess it would, duckling!"

I pounded her pussy hard. She wasn't too tight, but she was warm and wet and knew how to move her hips. Bryanna had her hands tangled in her mother's black curls, bucking her hips and rubbing her cunt all over her mother's lips.

"Oh momma! This feels amazing! I love your mouth on my pussy! Um, eat me! Make me cream, momma!"

"Cum for me, duckling!" Tibby moaned. "Let's cum together!"

"Yes!" Bryanna yelled. "Oh geez! Here it cums! Oh yes!"

Her back arched and her mother held on for dear life, never ceasing to drink her daughter's fresh juices. I felt Tibby's cunt spasming on my cock as she reached her climax, a velvety massage about my dick as her pussy writhed. I fucked her harder, feeling my own release approaching, then I spilled my fertile seed into her womb.

"Oh momma, I want to eat you now!"

"Absolutely, duckling! I'm all creamy now. You'll just love it!" Tibby pulled away from me, white cum running out of her snatch. She unzipped her skirt and threw it to the floor before falling back on the bed and spreading her legs, and her pussy, wide open.

"Wow, momma!" Bryanna cooed. "Your pussy lips are huge!" She reached out, tugging on one. "Mine are small. You can barely see them. You're bigger than me in every way."

"Don't pout, duckling. I'm all grown up!" Tibby slid her fingers threw her messy cunt. "Why don't you give momma a good lickin'."

Bryanna dove into her mother's cunt, giving me a great view of the damp fur surrounding her tight slit. My cock was hard again and I buried into her teenage snatch. "Holy jeez!" Bryanna gasped. "He's a little bigger than daddy!"

"Umm, I know," Tibby cooed. "Doesn't that cock just feel wonderful pumping in and out of you!"

"It does, momma!"

Bryanna's cunt was a vice compared to her mom's, and I enjoyed every second that I fucked her. Next to Mary's pussy, teenage cunt was the best thing to fuck. I gripped her ass, spreading her firm cheeks and saw her rosebud asshole.

Well, maybe there was something better than teenage cunt.

"Owww!" Bryanna gasped as I shoved my cock into her bowels. My dick was well lubed, but her ass was virgin territory. "Momma, he's fucking my butt!"

"Relax, duckling," Tibby cooed. "Relax, your ass will take it!"

"Okay, momma," Bryanna panted.

Her ass was tight ecstasy and I plunged in and out slowly, savoring the velvety feel of her. Tibby stroked her daughter's face and guided the teen's lips back to her juicy cunt. Bryanna's head moved as she began eating her mother's pussy and I could feel some of the tension leave her body; her ass wasn't quite as tight anymore. I started thrusting faster, enjoying the feel of my balls slapping against her pussy.

"Um, duckling that feels wonderful! Eat momma's dirty pussy! Lick momma clean! Oh yes!" Tibby's large breasts heaved as her face squeezed in pleasure. She gasped once, squeezing the sheets and then smiled happily. "Thank you duckling!"

Tibby slid away from her daughter, then crawled down the bed, kneeling beside us. She bent down, giving Bryanna's asscheek a big smooch, and watched my cock plunging in and out of her hole. Her hand reached under and I felt her fingers brush my pistoning cock, searching for her daughter's cunt.

"Oh momma!" Bryanna gasped, squeezing her ass on my cock. "Ohh, play with my clitty!"

Bryanna's hips started to move as her mother toyed with her clit. Tibby kept kissing and sucking at her daughter's ass, leaving brown hickeys on white skin. The teen was cooing happily; her plaited braid coiled across her supple back. I reached out and grabbed it, yanking her head back. Her sapphire eyes shone with lust as she looked over her shoulder at me.

"Pound my ass, my Lord!" she moaned. "Oh, it feels so good! Umm, I'm so glad you took my anal cherry! I'm gonna cum, my Lord!" A low, throaty moan escaped her lips and her ass squeezed deliciously on my cock. "Oh yes! Do you feel my passion, my Lord? Do you feel my naughty, teenage ass squeezing on your hard cock?"

"Fuck, I do!" I moaned. My balls felt like they were about to explode, but I wanted to cum in her fertile cunt so I pulled out of her bowels and thrust my cock – dirty with her juicy ass – into her pussy. "Here it fucking cums!" I shouted, thrusting three times.

"Oh momma! He's shooting in me! We're gonna make a baby, momma!"

Jerrold Baxter – Washington D.C.

I knocked on the door of the apartment.

"Who is it?" a woman asked, her voice reedy, quavering.

"FBI," I answered, holding up my badge. "I'm Agent Baxter, please open your door, ma'am."

The old woman cracked the door open, the chain still in place, and peered at my badge. "What can I do for you?" she asked, a little nervous as she unhooked the chain.

Once inside, I whispered a word and I caught her as she fell asleep. I carried the old woman to her bedroom and set her on her bed. The Yashen spell would put her to sleep until around noon tomorrow. When she woke up, she wouldn't remember a thing.

Her apartment gave the perfect vantage on the Willard Intercontinental's entrance. I went back to the hallway and retrieved my gun case and started assembling my HK PSG1 sniper rifle. The PSG1 was the perfect sniper's weapon, very accurate. The German's designed it for use in hostage situations after the Munich Games; it was very accurate, very deadly. I had a lot of experience with it; for seven years I had been a sniper with the FBI's Hostage Rescue Team, our version of the SWAT.

Once my rifle was assembled, I walked carefully to the window, concentrated, and whispered, "Ashan." The spell created an illusion in front of the window; from the outside, it would still look like the window was closed and the shades were drawn. The spell was one of the many powers I gained when I sold my soul to the Devil along with the other Patriots last week.

It was the only way to save America. To save the world. I loved my Country too much to watch it become enslaved by Mark Glassner and his whore.

I opened the drapes and the window, set up my tripod and rifle. In the morning the Tyrant, Mark Glassner, would step out of the hotel and I would put a bullet in his brain.

I grabbed my pack, pulled out the CB radio. Mark controlled the NSA, and cell phones were too easily traced by them. I keyed up the CB, "19Q321 traffic is just fine in D.C." It was the code that I was in position. There would be no answer. Headquarters was monitoring the band, but they would never transmit; CB's are too easy to direction find.

I sat and watched, scanning the hotel. On the roof I could see the counter-snipers, soldiers with their own sniper rifles, scanning the neighboring buildings for someone like me. I laughed; with the illusion in place they could never see me.

"KK254 the Brooklyn Bridge is traffic free," a woman's voice crackled over the CB.

I smiled; Sheila Robbins was in place to assassinate Mary. If all went well tomorrow the world would be free of the Tyrants.

To be continued...

---

The Devil's Pact Side-Story: The Alukah Part 1-The Hunt

mypenname3000

Fantasy, Female/Female, Lesbian, Mind Control, Monster, Oral Sex, Transgendered, Transsexual

Introduction:

Sam is sent to Rennes-le-Château to study the Matmown, and Lilith sends her daughter, a vampiric Alukah, to hunt Sam down and stop her.

The Devil's Pact Side-Story: The Alukah Part 1-The Hunt

Visit my blog at .

Notes: This takes place during Chapter 40, following Sam on her mission to Rennes-le-Château to study the Matmown in the Nun's Motherhouse. Thanks to klimstit for inspiring me to write a vampire story.

Monday, September 30th, 2013 – Lilith – The Abyss

I spied on him from the shadows as he spoke to that slut wife of his, projecting my spirit from my Vessel resting safely in Seattle. I could not let Mark and Mary get their hands on a Matmown. They had grown too powerful today when they defeated Brandon; I needed the edge I gained by spying on them if I am going to have any chance of surviving long enough to realize my plans.

Samnag Soun needed to be stopped before she could discover the secrets of the Matmown.

I flashed back to Seattle, back to my body, and opened my eyes in my office – a richly appointed space full of expensive carpets, dark-wood furniture engraved with intricate designs, expensive statuettes and figurines carved of delicate crystals and veined marbles, incense sticks and scented candles that filled the air with sweet delights – and let the beauty of my surroundings relax me. My office almost matched the majesty of ancient Babylon. A train horn blared; the warehouse rumbled, spoiling my enjoyment. I hated this place; it was old, dusty, dilapidated—hardly a fit place for a Goddess, but it was the only building we had in Seattle that could house my children and followers unnoticed.

I just had to keep reminding myself it is only temporary. Soon, the city of Seattle would fall to my power; soon Tir's plague would be ready and the Earth would be brought to its knees. I only needed to keep Mark at bay for a few more months. By the new year, Seattle, and then the world, would be wiped clean of the vermin—men. Only women would survive, transforming the world into a paradise.

Chantelle and Lana sat in chairs opposite my desk, patiently waiting. They were my two High Priestesses; the first to join my cause. The lesbians – opposites in every way; one was blonde and busty, the other dark-haired and slim – were holding hands, I saw with amusement. Love. What a weak, useless emotion, enslaving those it inflicted. I controlled my daughters with love just like I controlled these two fools.

In unison the pair slipped to the floor and paid me their homage.

"What did you see, my Goddess?" blonde Lana asked, her Slavic face worshipfully staring up at me.

The blonde was the more outgoing, the bolder of the duo—the more outspoken. Modern humans did not know how to show proper respect, particularly these Americans. This country bred insolence and arrogance into their children, and these character defects had rubbed off on an immigrant like Lana.

"Send for my daughter, Luka," I commanded, ignoring her lapse; allowances had to be made...for now. "I have someone for her to kill."

"At once, my Goddess," Lana replied, smoothly rising and turning to leave.

I leaned back in my chair. The plush leather was so comfortable as it cushioned my body in heavenly softness. There was something to be said for the comforts of this age, even if its inhabitants left something to be desired.

A smile crossed my lips; Luka would be perfect for this task. Hopefully, she wouldn't fail me like Di and Emi had. Irritation flashed like lightning; who knows when I would mother another Dimme, let alone twins.

Luka – Seattle, WA

"Luka, follow me," Lana said peremptorily as I snuggled up to Mona, my birth mother.

Mom's blood was salty on my lips as I nursed gently from the small punctures my teeth left on her breasts. Mom shook in ecstasy from my bite, her hands stroking my fiery-red hair as she fed me. Her blood was delicious, salty, life. I could feel that Mom was close to cumming, her moans soft, passionate, and I resented the intrusion.

"Why," I demanded, regretfully pulling my lips from Mom's delicious flesh. I could only feed off her once a week; more often would be too dangerous for her. As an Alukah I needed blood to survive, and Mom offered herself; such a loving, intimate gift.

"Our Goddess wants you," Lana answered, furrowing her eyes.

I perked up. My True Mother needed me. Joy blossomed inside me; all the children of Lilith, myself included, had been so jealous of Di and Emi when they had been chosen for their special mission, and I was secretly delighted to hear that they had died. The more of my siblings that perished, the less competition there was for Mother's love.

I followed the curvy blonde to Mother's office. I could see the blood pumping beneath Lana's skin. Warm, delicious blood, flowing through a beautiful spiderweb of arteries, capillaries, and veins. She positively glowed with life, pooling in her womb where her daughter grew. I wondered what Lana's blood tasted like; I only ever got to taste my birth mother's blood. Lana smelled different, spicier than Mom, and I bet her blood would have a zesty flavor.

I could take just a little nip; her neck was so inviting. I sighed. No, I couldn't touch her. As much as I hated Lana – she thought she was so much better than me – she had mother's favor. She was untouchable...for now.

I knelt when I entered my True Mother's glorious presence, gazing up at her with awe and love. Mother was perfect, and her beauty always made me feel lacking; her flesh was flawless, and her blood pumped divinely through perfectly shaped blood vessels that painted a glorious picture of life and power beneath her skin. One day I hoped that she would let me taste her divine blood.

If I served her faithfully, I knew she would.

"You humble daughter is here to serve, Mother," I said, and shuddered as she smiled at me.

Mother waved her hand and the image of a woman appeared. She was young, early twenties, with olive skin and a round face. Her eyes were dark, almond-shaped, revealing a Far East Asian origin. She had a serious look, almost a scholarly air about her. And it wasn't just her appearance Mother conjured—I could smell her. The warm, salty flavor of her blood; the sour of her sweat; the spicy tang of her sex—all of it combined to give the woman a unique odor.

I looked questioningly at Mother.

"Samnag Soun," Mother answered. "Vizier to him." I knew from the heat in her voice just who 'him' referred to. The despicable Mark Glassner. "She is traveling to southern France, to a small town called Rennes-le-Château. Kill her."

I licked my lips. "I am the instrument of your will, Mother."

She bent down and kissed me on the lips; pleasure exploded in my pussy. I gasped and shuddered as the most intense, amazing orgasm burst through my body, leaving me nothing more than a twitching ball of sensation whipped by the winds of lust scouring my soul. When I regained my senses, I was lying on the floor and I picked myself up. Mother was reading over some papers; Lana and Chantelle – obviously caught up in Mother's Lust – passionately writhed in an embrace on the carpets. Sensing I was dismissed, I withdrew quietly.

My birth mother Mona waited outside the office, and hugged me and wished me success and safety in my task. Together we walked up to the roof of the warehouse. "I love you, Luka," she said, throwing her arms about my neck and kissing me on the lips.

"I love you too, Mom," I told her as my red hair fanned out, forming into the wings that would carry me through the night sky.

Carrying me to my prey.

Tuesday October 1st, 2013 – Sam Soun – New York City

"Now boarding British Air Flight 482 for London's Heathrow Airport."

That announcement sounded important, the rational, thinking part of my mind told me, but I was too tired to care. I didn't sleep at all over the weekend – how could I when my very life rested on Mark and Mary overcoming Brandon's seemingly insurmountable forces – and despite trying to sleep on the flight from Seattle to New York's LaGuardia Airport, I couldn't. Mary's mysterious command plagued me.

We need you to do something that is very important, Mary had said to me last night. Go to the Motherhouse in Rennes-le-Château. In the basement you will find a room. Study it carefully. I need you to reconstruct it perfectly.

I was so curious. What was this mysterious room? Could it be a Matmown? The Magicks of the Witch of Endor spoke of something called 'Hidden Rooms'—places that spiritual beings could not see into. Angels, Demons, Spirits. None of them could so much as enter one of these rooms, but the Book didn't explain how to make one.

It seemed that while I waited for our flight to Toulouse, France – with a layover in London – I had fallen asleep on the uncomfortable, plastic chairs in the airport's terminal. Someone was shaking my shoulder. Candy, my half-asleep mind realized; my lovely and vivacious toy.

"What," I muttered in irritation.

"Our flight is boarding," Candy urged. "C'mon, Sam."

I groaned, "Fine." I let Candy drag me to my feet.

Candy maneuvered me as I shuffled through the boarding procedures. Since we were in First Class, we got to board with the first group. The First Class tickets were expensive, but I wasn't paying for the tickets, and Mark and Mary sure could afford to. They gave me a credit card months ago to use for any expenses I needed. The First Class seats were a little wider, a little roomier, a little easier to sleep on—a definitely needed expense.

The moment I buckled in I was dead to the world. I don't even remember taking off. I woke up with my face pressed against the bulkhead, drool sticky on my cheek, and a blanket – one of those light, airline ones that are too thin to really do much of anything – bunched up on my right side. Candy smiled at me, and reached out to stroke my left thigh. My skirt had ridden up while I slept, almost exposing my naked pussy, and Candy's fingers dipped in and took advantage of that. I stirred, enjoying her touch, as I looked at her. A grin was plastered on her cute face, framed by hair that was half-dyed cotton-candy blue and bubblegum pink. She was my toy, given to me by Mark in exchange for being their vizier. She was smart, feisty, funny; my right-hand woman.

"Good morning," Candy purred. "Or, I should say good afternoon. Or evening? I'm not sure anymore. I think we have another six hours to go."

My bladder felt full and my stomach rumbled. The lavatory took care of one and I bought a meal from the stewardess to take care of the other. It was an okay chicken salad with an oily dressing. Not enough vinegar, I thought, but I was famished and wolfed it down.

Candy giggled and bent over and licked me. "You had something on your chin."

"Do I still have anything?" I asked, a smile playing on my lips.

Candy bent over and kissed me on the lips, slipping her tongue inside my mouth. "Nope, all clean."

I was starting to feel a familiar itch in my crotch and one look at Candy's face told me she felt the same. I grabbed the blanket from the floor and placed it over both of our laps. The grin on Candy's face broadened, and her hand slip down to find my thigh and slid up my leg to my wet pussy. I shuddered in delight when her skillful fingers played with my damp nethers.

I returned the favor, sliding my hand up Candy's miniskirt and found her sopping pussy. I smeared my fingers through her juices and brought them up to my lips, sucking each finger one by one. "Umm, I love to eat some sweet Candy," I laughed.

"Why don't you try some more?"

I slid my hands back between her thighs, stroking her vulva as Candy probed my pussy with two fingers, sliding them in and out achingly slow. I shuddered in pleasure on my toy's digits, as I shoved three fingers up Candy's twat; she raised up on her seat at the sudden intrusion, before relaxing and enjoying my finger-fuck.

Across the aisle, a sleeping man stirred and stretched suddenly. Candy and I kept fingering each other, trying to stay discreet. I bit my lip to stifle a moan as Candy started grinding the heel of her hand on my clit. Well, two could play at that, so I pulled my fingers out of her cunt and began pinching her button. She tossed her head back in pleasure, her pink-and-blue hair swaying wildly about her head.

Candy squeezed her eyes shut, her face turning red as she struggled not to cry out as her orgasm rippled through her. I bit my lip, silencing a moan as she writhed and sighed. Her orgasm was so powerful her stomach muscles contracted and she bent over, a low groan escaping her lips and sweat breaking out across her forehead.

"Are you okay, miss?" the man across the aisle asked in a British accent. "You look a little knackered."

"I'm fine," Candy panted.

"No you're not," I told her. "C'mon, let's get you into the lavatory before you throw up."

Candy gave me a confused look, but she was my slave and obeyed me, standing up. The man had a puzzled expression on his face. "She gets this way all the time," I told him. "We might be in there for a little while. I know just what to do to make her feel better."

Candy caught on and nodded, "She gives me what I need."

"Yep, she needs her protein injection," I stated. "She's too chicken to stick the needle in herself, so she likes me to thrust it in her. You see, it has to be plunged deeply into her flesh for the injection to work."

Candy almost giggled, clapping her hand over her mouth and vigorously nodding her head. "She makes the needle plunging into me feel so nice!"

We reached the two first class lavatories and entered the left one, locking it behind us. It was a typical airplane lavatory: stainless steel toilet, sink, and mirror; cramped for one person, let alone two. We made it work.

Candy reached down and lifted my skirt, exposing my neatly trimmed, black bush, and started playing with my clit. "You know just what I need, Sam," Candy purred.

I concentrated on my clit, and it began to lengthen, widening, transforming into eight inches of hard iron—my very own cock. I learned how to do this from the Book – the Magicks of the Witch of Endor – and Candy was the first woman I ever fucked with it. We met at the Clam Diver, a lesbian club in Tacoma, and I fucked her with it on a love seat at the edge of the dance floor. Candy had been so impressed by the magic, that she offered to be my slave if I would teach it to her.

She loved every minute of being my slave and apprentice.

Once my clit had grown to its full length I purred, "Time for your injection!"

Giggling, Candy stroked me to full hardness. Her hand felt wonderful on my girl-cock, then she sat on the edge of the sink, parting her legs so I had access to her dripping cunt. "I'm ready to be pricked!"

We embraced and kissed as her hands eagerly guided me into her. I moaned; it felt wonderful to be inside my Sweet Candy again. My hips pumped fast; we couldn't spend too much time in here before a stewardess got nosy. We shared a sloppy kiss with lots of tongue, moaning into each other's mouths, as I fucked her hard. Her cunt was tight silk on my cock; I felt that urgent need to cum building in my ovaries, spurring me to fuck Candy faster.

"I love your cunt," I hissed in Candy's ear. "You're a dirty, cock-loving whore, aren't you?"

"Yes!" Candy panted. "A dirty, girl-cock loving whore! I love it when you fuck my mouth, fuck my cunt, and fuck my filthy ass! I love the taste of your cum. All thick and salty as it pumps in my mouth!"

I felt her fingers squeeze my ass, then reach lower, sliding between my legs. I thrust hard into her as her fingers invaded my cunt. Fuck, she was stroking the passion in my girl-parts and my boy-parts.

"You dirty whore!" I purred. "Finger me! I want to cum with both my pussy and my cock!"

Candy threw her head back, exposing her pale throat, and I couldn't resist sucking hard at it. I loved leaving hickeys on her pale flesh. They were my marks of ownership—this slut was all mine! Just a few more thrusts and I would be flooding her cunt with my cum. I pounded on her harder and harder, then my ovaries were boiling over and my cock exploded. The pleasure was intense: the focused blast of a male orgasm and the wonderful waves of pleasure of a female orgasm all mixed together in a wonderful maelstrom of rapture.

"Yes, yes!" Candy groaned as she felt my cum jet into her cunt and my pussy juices flooded her hand. I pulled her face down and silenced her with a kiss, her cunt spasming on my cock as she came hard.

"Umm, that was delicious," I purred, shrinking my clit. "Clean yourself up."

Candy reached down and scooped up a big gob of my cum and sucked it into her lips. "That's the best part!"

I chuckled as I slipped out. The British man asked how she was doing and I was about to tell him that she needed a few more minutes, when someone in the back of the plane began screaming. Wondering what could be going on, I made sure my gale bracelet was on my wrist as I started walking to the back of the plane. The bracelet, made of brass, could conjure a strong wind and throw an attacker away from me; one of many charmed objects I had come up with.

I debated grabbing one of my daggers. I had a pair of copper daggers in my carry-on bag stowed in the overhead compartment. They were useful against a supernatural opponent; carved with symbols that would allow the blades to harm spiritual flesh. I decided against grabbing the daggers; unless I saw an actual threat, it would only cause more problems for me to pull them out.

I was about to head into coach when a stewardess stopped me. "What's going on?" I asked.

"A passenger thought she saw a woman out on the wing," the stewardess explained.

"What, like that Twilight Zone episode?" One of my favorite episodes. "With the gremlin on the wing?"

The stewardess gave me a momentarily confused look, then, ignoring my comment, said, "It happens sometimes. When you mix sleeping pills, alcohol, and altitude it can cause all sorts of unanticipated reactions. If you could please take your seat, miss."

I walked back to my seat and tried to peer out the window, straining to see the aircraft's wing, but I was too far forward. "What are you doing, Sam?" Candy asked as she returned from the lavatory.

"Get my laptop," I told her.

When we rushed out of the house on Saturday morning, one step ahead of Brandon's forces, I had grabbed a bag I had prepared. I got the idea from some spy movie—a go bag. It contained anything I would need if I had to leave in a hurry: my copper daggers, a laptop which contained copies of my translations of the Magicks of the Witch of Endor, my enchanted perfume, the bracelet I wore around my wrist, and a few other handy items. Candy grabbed my laptop out of the overhead bin and I booted it up. There was a section in the book that described Lilith's monstrous children.

The Children of Lilith could manifest in a myriad of different ways, and there were a few that could fly. For instance: a Zauba'a could take the form of whirlwind, the Pazuzu and the Lamassu had bird wings, the Th'uban was something that resembled a dragon, and the Alukah could fly using her hair. I read each entry carefully—the one about the Alukah jumped out. An Alukah looked perfectly human and was a type of vampire. Its bite imparted a narcotic effect on the victim, making them docile as the monster fed. Its hair could be shaped into wings or in other, useful ways. The gaze of an Alukah was hypnotic, making its victims docile or causing people to ignore its presence. The drunk were supposedly immune to this power.

My blood chilled as I shut down my laptop.

I tried in vain to see the wing again. Was there an Alukah perched on the airplane's wing? Or was it just a drunk woman hallucinating? I chewed my lip. Maybe I was just being paranoid. Fuck, but what if I wasn't? I could only hope that the Zimmah bond would protect us from an Alukah's gaze.

No. Hoping is what Mark would do. I bet there was a way I could neutralize the gaze, and started my research.

Luka – London, England

Riding on the wing of an airplane was exhilarating.

After Mother sent me to kill Samnag Soun last night, I had flown south on wings made of my fiery-red hair. Young Crystal, one of Mother's followers, called me Bayonetta when she saw me use my hair this way the first time. Bayonetta turned out to be a video game character, and Crystal got me hooked playing the game on her PS3. I reached Tacoma in a few minutes, swooping over the city, trying to isolate Sam's scent through a city's worth of humans.

When I found it, the trail led north back to Seattle. Hissing in frustration, I had to fly back the way I came. When I arrived at Boeing Field in southern Seattle, I had just missed her plane taking off, flying east. This was getting frustrating. I could fly fast, but I couldn't fly quite as fast as a jet.

Doggedly I pursued, and the Country had passed as a blur beneath me as I followed the scent of the airplane through the skies. I had been lucky to arrive in New York City just in time, smelling Sam's scent on a plane taxiing onto the runway. I landed on the wing, and used my hair to grip its leading edge while my gaze hypnotized any passenger that happened to looked out the window.

It had worked until that one lady got drunk and saw me.

Luckily, everyone just thought she was a hysteric woman. No-one else saw me for the rest of the flight and I enjoyed myself. The wind howled almost painfully, and exhilaratingly, past me, and we were up so high that if I had to breathe I would have been in trouble. The ocean was so blue as we passed over it. Once we flew above a thunderstorm; I watched in awe as lightning flashed and danced in the clouds below, a beautiful display of power that seemed for my eyes alone. When the sun set, the stars were so brilliant, twinkling down upon me. There were so many of them, more than I ever saw in Seattle.

By the time the plane began landing, I was feeling pretty weak. Feeding off my birth-mother once a week sustained me when I wasn't exerting myself—when I didn't fly halfway across the country and hitch a ride on an airplane. I could feel my thirst growing. I needed blood to survive, to fuel my powers. As the plane landed in a dreary city – London I think – I let go of the plane, swooping towards the airport's terminal.

I could find someone to snack on in there.

I was overwhelmed when I snuck through a maintenance tunnel and entered the terminal proper. There were so many people; the smell of warm blood filled my nose. Everywhere I looked I could see veins and arteries, and all the beautiful blood pumping beneath their skin. Whom to drink from? Everywhere I looked was a feast.

I saw a flash of purple.

A girl wearing a gray hoodie and a gauzy, lilac skirt over black tights disappeared into a bathroom. Her hair, dyed purple, was shoulder length, framing a cute, round face. She was so enticing. I touched my sharp canines with my tongue and felt my nipples harden beneath my tight, red bodysuit; I took a page out of that video game and shaped the clothes from my hair. I followed the girl into the bathroom, smelling her warmth from the last stall.

I padded silently to the stall. The sharp, ammonia scent of urine filled my nostrils as I heard water splashing. The door was locked and the girl shouted "Occupied!" when I tried to open it. I leaped up and easily slid through the gap between the door and ceiling, then landed gracefully on my feet before her.

"Bloody hell!" the girl exclaimed in a melodic, British accent. "Why'd you go and do that?"

She sat on the toilet, her black tights and white panties bunched up around her ankles. I licked my lips and relaxed my hair. My clothing dissolved away, leaving me naked before the girl. All she could do was stare dumbfounded at me.

Finally, the girl collected her thoughts. "Clear off. I'm taking a piss, slag!"

I gazed at her; her eyes went wide and almost black as her pupils dilated. A shudder passed through her body and her lips curled with lust. She pulled off that gray hoodie, exposing a low cut, lilac blouse. I delighted to see the blood flooding her capillaries, giving a nice, red flush to her pale skin. She smelled delicious: warm blood, spicy cunt, acidic urine.

I had to taste her.

"Aren't you tidy," the girl purred, lost to the lust my gaze generated. "I could just dive right into that fanny and eat you all up!"

I turned, presenting my ass to the girl. I liked a good ass-licking and I was feeling horny. After she pleasured me, I could taste all the delights the girl's body had to offer.

"Not your arse, I said your fanny!" she objected.

"My fanny is my ass," I said in confusion.

"Bloody yanks! Your fish taco." I only stared blankly at her over my shoulder. "Your cunt, stupid git." I spun around and she knelt before me, her breath hot on my pussy. She took one, delicious lick of my pussy and I shuddered. "I love fish for supper," she murmured before diving back in.

I leaned back against the door and let this girl devour my fanny; what a funny word for my pussy. Her tongue was agile, licking along my lips. Then she shoved her tongue deep into my hole, fucking my snatch like a small cock. My back arched and I writhed against the stall. I gripped the girl's head and started humping my cunt into her lips.

"Um, yes, eat my cunt!" I moaned. "Delicious little slut!"

"Your fanny tastes bloody marvelous!" she purred.

"Don't stop!" I hissed.

I groaned as she buried her wonderful tongue back into me. Her fingers started pinching my clit, sending wonderful pleasure radiating through my body. The girl moved her tongue up to my little pearl, rapidly flicking it as she slid a finger up inside me. Her finger hooked and curled, rubbing along the walls of my pussy, searching for just the right spot.

I exploded when she found it, my head banging back against the stall door, as an orgasm smashed through me. "Holy shit," I muttered, panting heavily, gazing down at the girl who had a pleased look plastered on her face.

"Good one, huh," she said proudly. "I'd fancy one myself." Her blouse popped off and then her white bra, exposing a cute pair of breasts topped with dark nipples.

"Is everything all right in there?" someone asked from outside, banging on the stall door.

Irritation flashed through me and I opened it up to see a female janitor. "Close the bathroom," I ordered as I gazed at her. "Let no-one in!"

"Yes," she muttered in a daze. "The loo is closed."

I pulled the girl out of the toilet as the janitor left the bathroom. I pushed my prey down and ripped her tights and panties off, leaving her naked save for her purple skirt bunched up around her waist. Her legs spread, and her fanny was shaved bare and glistened with lust. My fangs itched to sink into her pink flesh and taste her blood.

I fell on her, and she cooed in delight as I kissed her, biting her lips and enjoying the coppery blood. I kissed down her neck, feeling her pulse beating just beneath her skin. I itched to sink my fangs in and drink her heart's blood, but that would attract too much attention. I kissed lower, down to her small breasts and sucked on her hard nipples, swirling my tongue around her nub.

"Suck my knockers!" the girl purred. "Give 'em a good suck!"

I could feel the blood flowing through her breasts and I sank my fangs into her perky flesh. I nursed at her tit, hungrily swallowing her coppery, delicious blood. It was so fresh, tasty, invigorating; the energy spread through my body, inflaming my lust. My prey writhed beneath me, moaning wordlessly; lost in the ultimate intimacy.

I was drinking her life, what could be more intimate?

"Shit that's bloody amazing!" the girl moaned. "Ohh, what're you doing to me!"

I left bloody kisses as I moved to her other breast. A second orgasm spasmed through her as I greedily drank her blood; my cheek rubbed against her hard nipple as I lapped the crimson oozing from her ivory flesh.

The scent of her pussy was intoxicating, beckoning to me. I slid down her body, nipping at her flat stomach, watching beads of dark blood blossoming across her pale flesh. I spread her thighs, her spicy scent filling my nose. Then I buried my face into her pussy, looking up at her body as her back arched in pleasure.

Was there anything more beautiful than crimson blood beading across white flesh?

"Um, suck on my fanny!" the girl moaned, kneading her bloody breasts. She was too lost to the lust my bite generated to feel the pain of all her tiny wounds. All she felt was the pleasure.

I nipped at her groin, watching a rivulet of blood run down and mix pink with her pussy juices. I dove in, lapping up the coppery, spicy flavor. I slid my tongue into her pussy, then up to brush her clit. This was so delicious.

"You bloody slag! Eat me! Devour me! I'm gonna cum! Oh shite, oh shite!"

Tasty juices and coppery blood flooded my mouth as she bucked against my face. My own pussy was on fire. I flipped around, straddling her face. Her tongue was rough as she lapped at my burning cunt, sending waves of pleasure through me as I bent down and nipped at her thigh, enjoying another flow of fresh blood. I was so intoxicated with her taste her tongue easily brought me to a powerful orgasm. I screamed into the meat of her silky thigh, her blood filling my lips; life and pleasure burst through me.

I formed new clothing, leaving my prey sprawled on the floor, her hand furiously rubbing her cunt as my bite's lust still poured through her veins. Blood streaked her body, enhancing her natural beauty with vibrancy. She should live, I thought.

I felt more alive than ever as I slipped out of the bathroom. Never had my belly been so full of blood; a warmth that slowly grew and grew, spreading to every corner of my being. How great would I feel if I had drained every drop from the girl?

I shuddered just thinking about it.

I wiped the janitor's memory, and stalked off, following the scent of Samnag Soun. I wouldn't have to hold back with her. I would taste her blood, drinking in every last drop until her heart stopped beating—the blood stopped flowing. I would experience the rapture of draining a human dry.

For Mother.

To be continued...

---

The Devil's Pact Side-Story: The Alukah Part 2-The Motherouse

mypenname3000

Fantasy, Female/Female, Horror, Male/Female, Monster, Oral Sex, Violence

Introduction:

Sam and Candy have arrived in France, and the Alukah is closing in on them.

Notes: This takes place during Chapter 40, following Sam on her mission to Rennes-le-Château to study the Matmown in the Nun's Motherhouse. Thanks to klimstit for inspiring me to write a vampire story.

Wednesday October 2nd, 2013 – Sam Soun

As our early morning flight on British Air took off from Heathrow Airport in London to Toulouse in Southern France, the entire plane was abuzz about the woman found badly assaulted in the restroom in the terminal. She was found around midnight local time, and since then I kept Candy and I where there were people around. Safety in the herd. I took no chances and made sure my bronze dagger – enchanted to harm spiritual beings – was easily accessible.

"They say she had bite marks on her thighs and breasts," a passenger in the seat in front of us whispered to the woman sitting next to her. "Like something had drank her blood."

"I heard the girl was naked and delirious when they found her," the second passenger whispered back. "They say she was..." the passenger gave a quick look around to see if anyone was eavesdropping, "...masturbating. The poor thing was barely conscious from blood loss and still jilling herself."

"It sounds like one of Lilith's children, Sam," Candy whispered to me. "One of the Akula."

"Alukah," I absently corrected, thumbing my earlobe. I had my carry-on bag sitting on my lap, dagger accessible. "We may be in some danger."

The plane started taxiing to the runway and Candy's eyes widened. "You think it's after us."

"Yes," I answered, trying to sound calmer than I felt. "It must know about our mission."

Anger flashed in Candy's eyes. "Then why did they only send the two of us. Why not send a few of those sluts they call bodyguards to protect us. The way they dress, I'm sure the Alukah would be pestering the guard, and leave us alone."

Why did Mark and Mary send us alone? To not attract attention, I guess. They certainly couldn't come to France without causing a firestorm. I had grabbed a London Times while we were waiting for our connecting flight to France, and read that the UK was embroiled in a vote of no confidence against their Prime Minister for supporting Mark and lauding the President of France for condemning him.

"We will be safe," I lied. "I know more about magic than anyone."

"Not Lilith," Candy pointed out. "It was foolish of them to send us without any guards. Fuck they're idiots!"

I blinked, having never heard Candy say anything bad about Mark and Mary. It was the fear talking. I could see it in her eyes. I felt the same fear gripping my heart with a cold, slimy hand. Candy was right—they should have sent us some protection.

I worried the entire flight to Toulouse. Mary said to call their Chief of Police if we needed any help; she had put him under her control a few days ago when she flew out to France to steal the Mother Superior's Gift. I would definitely feel better if there were some armed men around. The cops combined with an ointment that would protect against the Alukah's mesmerizing gaze – if I figured it out right, and there wouldn't be a way to test it until we were face-to-face with the monster – would go a long way in protecting us.

The ingredients shouldn't be too hard to find for the ointment: St. John's wort, a daisy, and some red berries combined with some sort of cream as the base. Then I just had to perform a simple charm and we should be protected from the most dangerous weapon the Alukah possessed. When we landed at Toulouse-Blagnac Airport, I found all the ingredients in the duty free shop – thank God for the all-natural health craze and florists – and I mixed them together, using a cold cream for the base.

I spritzed some of my enchanted perfume on me as we made our way to customs. It was similar to these incense sticks I made for Willow, and would put people into a suggestive frame of mind. One whiff and the Customs Official waved us through even though neither of us had passports. After customs we called the Captain of the Toulouse Police and he sent us two cops for an escort. The sun was just rising when they pulled up in one of those ridiculously tiny, European cop cars.

"I am Michel, this is Francois," the serious young man said climbing out of the cop car. His eyes were instantly glued to Candy's cleavage. I couldn't blame him; she was showing a lot of it and it was very stunning.

Francois was a dark, brooding man, handsome, with a huge grin on his face. He sauntered up to Candy, asking, "Want touch my rooster?" Michel shook his head and muttered something in French. Francois ignored him, continuing, "American ladies love big rooster!"

"What?" Candy giggled.

"My rooster! Is very big!" He held his hands over a foot apart. "My rooster feel great your cat!"

"Come again?" I asked, baffled by what Francois was saying.

"My rooster!" Francois exclaimed enthusiastically, pointing to his crotch. "Ladies love big rooster! Like Black man."

"You mean your cock? Your penis?" I asked, finally catching his drift.

"Yeah, yeah. My big rooster! It rises every morning. Very straight and crows very much!"

"And cat is our pussies?" Candy asked.

He nodded and I saw Candy give him a considering look then a promising smile. I blinked; Candy wasn't usually into guys. I gave Francois a second glance and decided that he was handsome enough. Maybe later Candy and I could have some fun. Just because I could make my own cock didn't mean I stopped craving a nice, hard dick.

"You were told to do whatever we say, right?" I asked them.

"Oui, oui," Michel nodded.

"Good, rub this ointment under your eyes," I ordered, holding out the cold cream container.

"Why?" Francois asked, staring askance at the ointment.

"Makes your rooster big," Candy giggled. "If it's as big as you say, maybe my hungry cat will eat it."

Francois's grin was priceless. He was so eager to rub it on his eyes that I suspected he was a virgin, and his over-the-top flirting was only a mask to hide it. Michel frowned and Candy shook her cleavage at him and he sighed, sniffed the minty concoction, and rubbed it under his eyes muttering something in French. It didn't sound complimentary. The ointment had a...distinct odor to it. That strong, medicinal smell from the cold cream combined with a sulfurous fume from the charm.

Francois flirted badly with us the entire drive. His understanding of English wasn't that great and trying to figure out what he meant was a real chore sometimes. The countryside of France was quite beautiful, the roads were lined with ancient hedgerows – walls of green that were older than any city in America – that streaked by as green blurs as Francois drove us at breakneck speed down the country highway. Soon a hill rose up ahead, a pile of rocks looming over the French countryside; Rennes-le-Château perched atop it, like a crown on a rocky giant's head.

The road up the hill to the town was curvy, winding back and forth like a drunken serpent. Rennes-le-Château was ancient, made of stone buildings that seemed to groan with the centuries. The streets were far too narrow for more than one car to drive down at a time, even one as small as the cop's vehicle. Francois didn't care, he barreled down them and forced any oncoming motorist to back out of his way. I was feeling definitely carsick after the bouncy ride across the cobblestone streets, and thrilled when we reached the Church of Mary Magdalene and the ride was over. The Motherhouse loomed behind it, and we got out, walking around the ancient church.

The Motherhouse was as old as the rest of the town. Made of stones fitted together and weathered by centuries of rain, while green creepers crawled up the sides, trying to pry the stones apart. The door was aged wood and bound in iron. It was closed, but not locked.

I cast a warding spell while the cops watched with bemused expressions. Candy was a dear and started flirting with them to keep them out of my way. The Natsar spell – which should keep the Alukah out, as well as any other children of Lilith, minor demons, homunculi, and spirits that might be after us – had to be precisely cast at all four corners of the building.

"Francois, you stay out and watch the door," I told him. "Don't invite anyone in."

"Of course, mademoiselle," he answered with a bow. "No fear. I protect you with big rooster!"

Candy laughed and patted his groin. "I bet you will."

Our defenses set, I eagerly headed for the basement followed by Michel and Candy. The cop had his flashlight out, shining ahead, as I raced down the tight, narrow staircase. The basement – reeking of centuries of filth – was full of old cardboard boxes that were stained black with mildew. At the far end was a door made of iron and covered with what appeared to be Paleo-Hebrew characters.

Excitedly I read. They were commands forbidding elohim from entering. Elohim could mean many things, all connected to the spiritual realm. Literally translated it meant 'gods' and was often applied to the God of the Old Testament, but could also refer to angels, spirits of the dead, and the pagan gods worshiped by the Israelite enemies.

I touched the metal, feeling the hammer strokes that had beated the metal flat, then traced through the angular script. They must have stamped the characters. The metal was clearly iron and I bet that it was cold iron; probably even meteoric iron. The most powerful metal in dealing with the supernatural has always been iron not worked by heat, and the most readily available source of iron in the ancient world fell from the skies—meteors.

Candy and the French cop watched in curiosity. "Candy, grab the survey equipment from the car." After the two cops picked us up, we purchased some supplies before we left Toulouse. "Then take scrapings of the walls. I will need a metallurgical analysis."

"Sure, Sam," Candy smiled.

I grabbed the digital camera and began to meticulously document the room. Inside there were more spells written on the walls and I felt a giddy feeling bubble up inside me. If I wasn't their Vizier, I could make a name for myself in the archeological world for this discovery. A shame I could never share it with my peers.

Luka – Rennes-le-Château, France

I watched the French cop as he stood bored in front of the Motherhouse from my perch in the ancient oak tree. My target was inside there—Samnag Soun. I could smell her scent thick in the air. I had been watching all day, waiting, pondering.

My fangs itched to sink into Sam's olive throat and drink my fill of her life, but first I had to deal with the Natsar ward and then her guards. I did not have my sister Cora's brute strength. I could smell the ointment from here that protected all of them from my gaze, and I could be overpowered by the two cops if I wasn't careful. As the day wore on the cop guarding the front door grew more and more bored. The sun would be setting soon, and his attention would only worsen with time.

Finally, the sun slipped beneath the horizon and the sky darkened to a deep purple-black. Thunder rumbled in the distance; a storm approached. I slipped out of the tree and boldly walked down the path to him. I shaped my hair into a form-fitting bodysuit. It hugged every lush curve of my body and I felt the French cop's gaze fall on me and the lust burning in his eyes.

I didn't need my gaze to deal with a horny man.

He said something in French. It was musical, poetry given sound, and utterly meaningless to me. I just smiled as sultry as possible and exaggerated the roll of my hips even more. He kept speaking in French as I stepped up in front of him just on the other side of the Natsar's boundary and boldly looked him up and down.

"I love cops," I purred. Thunder rumbled behind me, the wind picking up as dark storm clouds swept over the hill.

Candy Garnett

I was bored.

Sam was having fun taking her measurements and notes and all that academic shit. She was talking about the days and days it would take to her to record it all and analysis it. She was positively giddy.

I could only fidget and watch her work, trying to pay attention so I could help her out, but she seemed to be lost in her world of discovery. On top of the boredom, there was the dull fear aching my heart. An Alukah may be hunting us; sure we were safe inside the Natsar, but I couldn't shake the unease writhing like an eel in my stomach. Anger burned in me that Mark and Mary would send us out here by ourselves. Sam was the most important person in maintaining their power and they didn't give her half the respect she deserved. Sam should be running things, in my opinion, not kowtowing to those two idiots that were forever blundering into one disaster after another.

Sam should make her own pact with Lucifer.

I was scared to bring it up to her – it was such a seditious idea – but she could be so much more if she just had a little bit more ambition to go with her intelligence. With my help Sam would one day show the world just how smart and powerful she really is.

In the meantime, I was bored.

Michel was as bored as I was, leaning against a moldy cardboard box. He was cute, with dark eyes and hair. And incredibly shy. I've always preferred the ladies, but there have been times when a guy was cute enough to attract my interest. I loved the shy ones. They always let me be the aggressive one—the one in charge.

I glanced at Sam; she was lost in her work and I felt an itch growing between my thighs. Maybe Michel could help me out.

"It must be so hard to be a cop," I cooed, sidling up to Michel. I thrust out my chest, making sure he had a nice view down my cleavage. I lightly touched his wrist and he flushed, looking uncomfortable. "All those long hours. I bet your girlfriend just hates it."

He shifted. "No girl," he muttered.

"Really? With those dark eyes? I thought you would have to hold the ladies at bay with a stick! I love a guy with dark, brooding eyes." I leaned in, fluttering my eyes at him, sliding my hand up his arm and giving his bicep a squeeze. "And so strong! What woman wouldn't love to have you?"

"I...um..." he muttered something in French. "I should be guard."

"Francois is watching the entrance," I told him, stroking his arm. "Besides, you can watch and talk at the same time." This time I let my breast press against his arm.

"This isn't...um..." he paused, searching for the right word, "...appropriate. I am working."

"And what are we doing that is so inappropriate?" I grinned, pressing my body against his side, my hand rubbing his chest. I leaned in and whispered in his ear, "We're just talking, Michel."

He went rigid, and tried to jerk away. I grabbed his arm, pulling him back.

"Don't be so stiff. I'm not going to bite." I paused, smiling coquettishly. "Much."

Sweat beaded on his forehead and he glanced at Sam. "What about your boss? You are helping, no?"

"She won't mind." His chin was rough with stubble as I kissed his cheek. I moved closer and closer to his lips. He was an okay kisser, his lips dry. He froze at first, then I felt him relax, kissing me back, his hands gently resting on my hips. I broke the kiss. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" he asked, panting; a foolish grin on his face.

"I thought I heard something upstairs. In one of the bedrooms. We should check it out."

He swallowed, "Yeah."

He followed along after me like a little puppy. I felt his cute, dark eyes on my ass as I swayed it in front of him. I glanced back at him, smiled invitingly, and twirled a strand of cotton-candy blue hair around my finger, then I dashed up the narrow stairs, giggling.

He chased me.

Luka

"American lady?" the French cop asked as I stood before him, his eyes filled with lust as he took in my lush body covered by a form-fitting bodysuit I made with my hair.

I nodded. "Your accent is so sexy."

"You want see my rooster. Is very big!" He held out his hands a good two feet apart. "Most big rooster you see!"

I was utterly confused about what he was talking about until he rubbed at his crotch. I could see the hard bulge forming there. "Umm, I like big cocks," I purred. "Why don't we slip inside and you can show it to me. I'll introduce it to my hungry pussy."

He suddenly got flustered, his flirtatious bravado evaporating. He's never had a woman respond like that, I realized. I could sense the inexperience that his outrageous confidence was trying to mask.

"Come on, big boy," I continued to purr, running my hands down my body. "Invite me in and you can show me just how big it is."

He threw a nervous look over his shoulder, swallowing. "I am on...eh...job."

"So?" I asked, my hands rubbing my crotch and sending a delicious thrill through my damp pussy. "No-one will know if we fool around for a little while. You won't be disappointed when your rooster meets my pussy."

He swallowed, his resolve wavering.

"I love to pet and stroke roosters," I purred. "With my hands...and with other parts of my body."

Lust won out over duty. "Yes! Come in."

The barrier was gone; I had my invitation, and I pounced. My lips found his, kissing him, as I pushed him back inside the door. I pressed him up against the wall, our lips hungrily tasting each other, while I rubbed his cock, feeling his cock swell beneath his pants. I kissed down to his throat, feeling his heart's blood pumping through his veins, and bit hard.

He struggled as my fangs pierced his carotid artery and his life pumped hot into my lips. It was a vital flood, brimming with energy. I couldn't swallow fast enough and the blood poured down my chin and neck, rolling down my body to puddle stickily on the floor. It was wonderful, rich and salty, flowing with primal energy. Never had I felt so alive, so full of power. His blood charged me, a battery filled to capacity—I never should have denied myself with the girl in the bathroom.

I let his dead weight fall to the floor and bent down and drew his handgun.

Candy Garnett

Michel chased me giggling into a bedroom.

It was barely more than a closet. A cell, really, than a proper bedroom. A small bed with a hard-looking mattress and a battered dresser. The window was narrow and the cold, night air flowed in through a gap between the frame and the wall where the ancient mortar had eroded away. These poor nuns had to live like this? No wonder they had caused so many problems; I'd be cranky too.

I kissed Michel, thrusting my tongue into his lips, then pushed him down onto the bed. "Strip," I ordered him.

He began to fumble with his buttons and froze as I pulled my top off, freeing my round breasts. I smiled and shook my tits at him. He muttered in French and started unbuttoning faster. His shirt and white undershirt came off exposing a muscular chest covered with thick, coarse black hair. I grimaced; I hated a hairy guy, but I was too horny to stop now. His pants and his striped boxers came off; he had an average-sized cock, uncircumcised, the red tip peaking out of its hood like a curious snake peaking out of its burrow.

I lifted up my skirt, exposing my shaved pussy to his gaze. "Eat me, stud!"

He knelt before me, his hands reaching around to grab my ass, and pulled me to his lips. His whiskers were rough on my thighs as he buried his mouth in my pussy. His tongue was stiff as it slid through my labia, but he knew just where to lick and I cooed in pleasure.

"You taste sweet," Michel moaned.

"That's why they call me Candy," I giggled. I grabbed his hair and shoved his mouth back into my cunt. "Don't stop licking until I explode on your face!"

I shuddered in pleasure as his lips sucked on my clit, sending lightning pleasure flashing through my body. Still holding his hair, I started grinding my pussy on his face. Outside, lightning flashed and thunder rumbled, while inside my cunt rippled with passion.

The storm's having an orgasm, I thought, just like me.

"Lick me!" I groaned as the small orgasm peeled through me. I wanted more, and his tongue was building me up to a crescendo of pleasure. "Umm, I'm gonna flood your face. You're going to drown in my sweet syrup!"

That sweet feeling was jolting through my body as my large orgasm grew closer and closer. I was so near that wonderful peak. His tongue was probing my cunt, nose rubbing against my clit when my orgasm crashed into me like a hurricane slamming into the shore, whipping pleasure throughout my body. I moaned, my back arching, as that glorious climax surged like a storm-driven wave through me. I rode high on the rapture, staring out the tiny window, watching the lightning flashing orgasmically.

A woman's face was in the window, fiery-red hair lit up by the lightning, something dark staining her lips.

"Holy shit!" I gasped, leaping away, my heart thundering in fear. "There!" I tried to say more, but my tongue was tied with fear and all I could do was point at the window.

"What?" Michel asked, wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

"Face!" I gasped out, still rapidly pointing.

Michel stood up and opened the window, sticking his head out. There was another flash of lightning and then the rain, driven by a gusting wind, came down in a hammering sheet against the side of the building. Michel peered around. "We are on the second floor. There is no trees or ledge for person to stand."

"There's nothing out there?" I asked, finally gathering my thoughts as my fear receded. Had it just been my imagination? A mere manifestation of the dull fear of the Akula that had plagued me all day?

"No," he answered, walking back to me with his hard cock pointing at me. "I think it is your turn to..." His voice trailed off and he shouted, "Merde!" then dived for his clothes.

I spun around and there was the woman I saw in the window. She was naked, the dark-red stains that covered her face and breasts were unmistakable—blood. The room filled with a coppery, nauseating scent as the woman aimed her gun at Michel. I jumped; the gun barked. Michel yelled in pain, blood blossoming on his chest as he struggled to pull his gun out of the tangle of his clothes. Like a marionette whose strings had been cut, he fell to the floor.

Before I could even react, the woman pointed the gun at me and fired. I jumped as everything went blue around me; the bronze protective amulet I wore about my neck worked, deflecting the bullet.

"That is a neat trick," the woman purred, walking towards me.

I backed away, fear hammering in my chest. There was nowhere I could go. She blocked the only exit. The wind gusted into the room, driving wet rain into my back – stinging cold – and causing the woman's fiery-red hair to swirl around her like flames.

The window was open.

I didn't think—I just turned and jumped.

Sam Soun

I was lost in my notes when I heard the loud pops.

I looked up. "What was that, Candy?" I asked. "It sounded like gunfire."

I frowned; Candy and Michel were gone. The girl had been making calf-eyes at him all day instead of helping me. Fear nibbled at my stomach, so I reached into my bag and pulled out the bronze, enchanted knife, and walked cautiously out of the Matmown.

"Candy?" I called, straining to hear. The grip of my knife felt slippery in my sweaty hands.

No-one answered; my heart thudded in my chest.

"Francois? Michel?"

I reached the stairs, walking slowly up the stone runners pitted with age, trying to hear any noise over the howl of the storm and the crash of lightning—and the hammering of my heart. I reached the first floor and glanced at the entrance. My breath caught—there was Francois lying slumped to the floor, his throat torn out, dark blood pooling around his body.

The Alukah was here. A sudden anger flashed through me, momentarily driving out the fear. The idiot must have invited her in!

I felt something tickle the back of my neck like someone was watching me. I whirled around to see a form flying at me. I panicked, thrusting the knife blindly before me. I saw a woman's face – eyes wild, mouth open and full of sharp teeth – a moment before she slammed into me. We fell to the floor in a tangled heap; I barely felt the stones bruise my hip. The air sizzled and the Alukah's scream was inhuman. I pushed her off of me and my dagger was ripped out of my sweaty grip as I scrambled away. The monster rose up, naked, drenched in blood. Please, please don't be Candy's blood! Lodged in her shoulder, surrounded by blackening flesh, was the copper blade.

"Ohh, you will pay for that, Samnag Soun," the Alukah hissed. "I will slowly drain every drop of blood while you beg for mercy!" She grasped the hilt and wrenched the knife free, dropping it to the ground and stalking towards me.

I was going to die. I thrust my wrist forward and unleashed the wind stored in my bracelet. It slammed into the Alukah, hurling her back like a rag-doll caught in the winds of the hurricane and slamming her heavily into a stone wall. I didn't wait to see what happened to her, I just turned and ran down the hallway away from the monster.

Behind me I could hear vicious snarling. I reached a wooden door, slamming into it. I grasped at the old hinge and forced it open, darting through it into a kitchen. There were no other doors leading out. Shit! I looked around wildly, grabbing a thick knife from a wooden block, and ducked behind a heavy, wood table.

"I can smell you," the Alukah purred as she burst into the kitchen. "Your coppery blood pumping in your veins, the salt of your sweat beading on your skin, the honey between your legs weeping from your cunt." She was in the kitchen, I could see her feet as she walked by the table. "You could die screaming in pleasure. Would you like that?"

Please don't find me! I tried to hold my breath; I needed to be quieter than a mouse as I watched the feet stalk around the kitchen. A desperate plan flashed through my mind. She was heading to the far side of the kitchen. I would have to make a run for it.

"Where are you hiding, my little mouse," purred the Alukah. "You smell so wonderful!"

She walked past the table. I tensed, ready to spring out and make my desperate bid for escape.

The table was thrown aside and the Alukah stared down at me with hungry eyes. I lunged with the butcher knife, stabbing her right in the heart. She grabbed my arm with one hand and plucked the knife out of her breast with the other, tossing it contemptuously to the floor. It was stainless steel, not enchanted or made of cold iron, and was completely ineffective against spiritual flesh.

I was dead.

She licked my wrist and I struggled to break her grip. She sank her fangs into my flesh.

Pleasure poured into me like a drug, trembling wonderfully through my body. Why was I resisting her? She brought me this amazing feeling. I shuddered as she drank the dark blood that oozed out of my flesh. I stopped struggling. Why would I even want to fight the rapture her fangs brought me?

"Imagine how it will feel when I drink from your thigh. From the femoral artery that runs right past your sopping pussy, draining you dry of every last drop of blood." She inhaled deeply. "Your arousal smells so intoxicating!"

She pushed me to the floor and I spread my thighs for her. I wanted her to taste me, to drink my blood. I wanted to feel that pleasure even if it killed me! My pussy ached with desire. Her tongue licked through my cunt and I arched my back. Her tongue was hot, her lips sucking at my clit. She sent her tongue probing every fold of my flower, and my orgasm exploded through me.

She shifted, straddling my hips and lowering her shaved pussy to my lips. I buried my face into her cunt, licking, sucking. She tasted wonderful, tart and tangy, her honey thick as it filled my hungry lips. Her mouth was kissing at my inner thigh—above my femoral artery.

"Beg," she hissed. "Beg and I'll send you to the afterlife on a river of pleasure."

"Yes, please!" I cried out, lost to ecstasy. "I need to feel that pleasure! Drink my life!"

Her mouth opened, her teeth were sharp on my thigh. I squirmed, I couldn't wait to feel this pleasure. I moaned as the sharp, agonizing rapture of her teeth began to penetrate my skin, slowly driving towards the artery. I groaned, squeezing my nipples. I was going to die experiencing the greatest pleasure of my life! My body burned to feel it, I didn't care what happened to me. Nothing mattered, not even my beautiful Candy.

I saw her face floating above us; even twisted in pain and anger she was so beautiful, framed by her wet, half-blue and half-pink hair. I would miss her. A small regret filled me. I never told her how much I loved her. "Goodbye, Candy," I whispered.

The Alukah's scream was unearthly pain, back arching up and her teeth releasing my flesh mere centimeters from reaching my artery. She flopped off me, smoke rising from her back, as she sprawled and spasmed on the stone floor of the kitchen in pain, writhing like a spider missing a few legs. Standing above her was a limping Candy, completely drenched, her right leg twisted, broken.

"I got the bitch," she groaned in pain, and collapsed on the floor.

The Alukah was shriveling black, like a corpse drying out in the desert, mummifying. Her body gave one last spasm, then her screams cut off into a sibilant whisper. A bronze dagger gleamed in her back – the one I stabbed the monster with and she dropped in the hallway, I realized – half the blade sunk into the foul corpse's back.

Candy crawled to me and kissed me on the lips. Her tears were warm and salty as they fell on my face.

"You saved me, Candy," I whispered back and kissed her again, holding her tight. I never wanted to let her go.

The end.

---

The Devil's Pact Chapter 41: Assassination

mypenname3000

Fantasy, Anal, Female / Girl, Female/Female, Incest, Lesbian, Male / Female Teens, Male / Females, Male/Female, Mind Control, Violence, Water Sports/

Introduction:

The Patriots make their first move against Mark and Mary.

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

–excerpt from 'The Patriots Manifesto', author Unknown

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

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

"He's bigger than me, how am I supposed to fight him?" I demanded angrily of Azrael.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Let's practice shooting," I finally said, growing too frustrated with the hand-to-hand training.

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

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

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

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

"I hope you enjoy hell, bastard!" Mark shouted.

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

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

If I, or one of the sluts that is pregnant with his child, bore a daughter, we would be able to cheat the Devil and escape our fate.

"It's alright," Mark whispered, wrapping his arms around me.

He was such a sweet man, sensing my turmoil. I closed my eyes, feeling safe in his strong arms. I knew in my heart that we'd be together forever—even in the torments of hell. I let go of the gun – it vanished back into dreamstuff before hitting the ground – and I wiggled my ass into his hardening cock.

This was the other great benefit of the shared dream; we were sleeping hundreds of miles apart. I was in New York City, in the Waldorf-Astoria, and Mark was at the Willard Intercontinental in Washington D.C. But that didn't matter. We could be on the far side of the world and we were only a nap away from being together. My pussy moistened as I felt his stiff cock, and I imagined myself naked. The comfortable training clothes I wore vanished into black motes.

Mark's arousal pressed against my naked ass. "Mmm, do you need some relief?" I asked my husband.

"Always Mare," he murmured, nuzzling my neck. "When I'm with you, I always need relief."

His words warmed my heart. He was always sweet with me, and it was one of the reasons our open relationship worked. He can be such a heartless bastard at times, treating women as things to satisfy his lusts, but never with me. Neither of us had to suppress our dark desires from each other, from the world. We were beyond morality—we were free. Free to trust and know that our various dalliances didn't change how we felt for each other.

Suddenly we were floating in the blue sky, weightless. My auburn hair fanned about my head, like the tendrils of an anemone swaying in a current. I laughed, spinning about. You could have so much fun in the dreams. Something soft and fluffy bumped into my back, cushioning me. It was a cloud, cotton-white. I stretched out upon it, spreading my legs open. I rubbed a finger through my waxed pussy, already damp, and brought my digit to my lips and tasted my sweet, spicy flavor.

Mark let out a low growl as I sucked on my finger, then he buried his face into my pussy. "Umm, that feels wonderful, Mark!" I groaned. His tongue slid up my petals and flicked at my clit, while his fingers spread me open, before burying his tongue into my pussy.

My husband was a great pussy eater; I writhed on the cloud, enjoying his tongue and fingers. I ran my hand through his brown hair, his blue eyes staring up at me from between my pale thighs, and I could feel his love. I hated sleeping apart from him, but we both could control people, and were more effective separate than together.

His lips found my clit and I gasped my pleasure. "Umm, eat me, my horny stallion! Oh, hun, I'm so close! You're driving me wild!" My orgasm built quickly. His fingers slid into my pussy, and moved deliciously in and out of my cunt. I shuddered; a small climax rippled through me.

Mark kept eating me out, sucking hard on my clit. Another orgasm shot through me and I writhed on the soft cloud. "Let me suck you!" I cried out. I wanted to make my husband feel just as amazing.

He spun around easily, his body floating down to mine. I opened my mouth and engulfed his hard cock. I grabbed his firm ass, groping him and pulling his cock deep into my mouth. I could taste the salt of his pre-cum as I bobbed my head. Mark moaned his appreciation into my pussy. I pulled him deeper, relaxing my throat, and slid his entire cock into my mouth. His pubic hair tickled my cheeks as I massaged his dick with my mouth. Then, sucking hard, I slid up until only the tip remained in my mouth, swirling my tongue about the sensitive head, before deep-throating him again.

"Oh fuck! That feels amazing, Mare!" he groaned. "My naughty filly!"

Another orgasm spasmed through me, my insides squeezing tightly; I could feel my juices splashing on my husband's face. I moaned my pleasure on his cock, my mouth humming on his sensitive head. Salty cum suddenly flooded my mouth, and I joyfully drank my husband's seed down, enjoying the thick, salty cream.

Mark pulled away, twirling about above me and I giggled. He looked so majestic as he moved without gravity, his muscular body glistening with sweat. He was so yummy! Then he dropped back down to the cloud on top of me, and we kissed passionately, fencing each other with our tongues. I enjoyed my sweet, spicy flavor as I wrapped my legs around his hips, and pulled my husband's cock into my aching sheath.

"Fuck me, stallion!" I moaned as he penetrated me.

He took me hard and fast, driving me into the cotton-soft cloud. His cock felt amazing inside me. The bellboy I fucked last night may have had a dick that was a little bigger than Mark's, but he didn't know how to use his. My husband knew my cunt intimately, and angled his thrusts to hit all the good spots inside me.

"Fuck your filly!" I panted. "God, I love your cock!"

"Is that all you love?" Mark asked with a boyish grin.

"No! I love everything about you!" I pulled his face down and kissed him madly, running my hands down his broad back to his tight ass. Since he got the Gift his ass was so yummy; I loved to play with it.

Our groins slapped together, my clit grinding hard into his pubic bone, every thrust sending sparks of pleasure burning inside me. Mark's hand found my right breast and he played with my nipple. He broke the kiss and bent his back so he could suck my nipple into his mouth, the wonderful pressure driving me closer and closer to my climax.

"Yes, yes, yes!" I moaned over and over as his lips, his cock, drove me wild. I could feel a huge orgasm building inside me. A tsunami of passion that threatened to drown me. I couldn't wait!

Mark switched tits, his cock pistoning rapidly in and out of my cunt. I loved it! His shaft rubbed on all the pleasant spots, sending more pleasure to the growing orgasm-tsunami. I licked my fingers, then spread his ass and found his asshole. I massaged the puckered ring, then slipped my fingers in and found his prostate.

"Holy shit!" Mark groaned as his cock exploded inside me.

I loved massaging his prostate. I would only do it once in a while because I loved his surprised reaction; his dick always seemed to flood an extra pint of cum – all warm and sticky – inside me when I did it, right where it belonged. He buried his cock all the way inside me as the last of his semen poured out, and I rubbed my clit on his pubic bone. I came! My orgasm washed through me, surging through every fiber of my being in wave after wave of rapture.

"I love you!" I screamed as the torrent of passion overwhelmed me. As it receded, I reveled in the feel of Mark's strong arms holding me, his face nuzzling my neck.

We cuddled on that cloud for what seemed an eternity, my husband inside me, our lips gently kissing each other, loving each other. We didn't talk; we were beyond words, and just enjoyed each other's presence.

When I woke up, I was in the Waldorf-Astoria. The very suite Mark and I had stayed at the first time we came to New York. I smiled, remembering our first night, and the wild foursome we had with Rachel and Leah in this very bed. Xiu was snuggled up against me, the busty Asian slut's tits pressed into my back. Jessica's caramel face was inches from mine. She looked so peaceful as she slept. I closed the distance, and kissed her on the lips.

Her brown eyes opened and she smiled. "Good morning, Mistress."

Xiu moved, rubbing against me from behind, her lips nuzzling at my neck. "Morning, Mistress," she murmured sleepily.

I turned over and grabbed Xiu's nipple jewelry, a pink butterfly dangling on a silver chain from a barbell piercing, and gave it a hard, painful tug. Xiu gasped in pain, lust shining in her eyes. Xiu was a masochist and nothing got her wetter than having her nipple piercings painfully pulled. "I have to pee," I told her.

Xiu threw back the covers and slid down my body, spreading my pussy open. Her mouth latched onto my urethra and I relaxed, sighing as I pissed into her mouth. I could feel her sucking and swallowing all of my urine. The nasty sounds she made as she drank my piss just made my pussy wetter. Pleasure tingled through me as the pee flowed out. Once you've experienced peeing in a pretty woman's mouth, how can you possibly ever use a toilet again?

Jessica bent over and captured one of my dusky nipples and started sucking as I finished peeing in Xiu's mouth. The Asian slut licked at my pussy, searching for any errant drops of piss. Her tongue felt great, far better than any toilet paper, thick and agile, not rough. She was gentler than Mark, her lips and tongue softer on my pussy. My husband was a hound, aggressively licking me out, whereas Xiu was a cat, taking gentle, careful licks. They weren't better or worse, just different. She licked through every fold and crevasse of my pussy, before her tongue started to lightly flick at my clit.

"Fuck yes!" I moaned. "I love your tongues on me, sluts!"

"We live to pleasure you and Master," Jessica purred, reaching over to finger my other nipple as she sucked on the first.

The door opened and April walked in, naked save for her glasses and choker, carrying a tray that had a few sliced honeydew melons and a bowl of oatmeal. She set the tray on the nightstand and slipped into bed. The nerdy girl quickly sucked my other nipple into her mouth. Her legs wrapped around my right thigh and her wet pussy rubbed on my skin, slippery wet and hot.

"Looks like a party in here," giggled Lillian.

The goth slut strutted in, dressed in a black corset that cupped her small, pale breasts and left her pink nipples bare. A very short skirt made of black gauze barely covered her pussy and her pale thighs were clad in black stockings held up by lacy, red garters.

I licked my lips. "Come sit on my face, Lillian."

"Oh, I would love that, Mistress."

Lillian practically skipped to me, climbing up onto the bed and straddling my face. Her pussy was shaved and I could smell her tart arousal as she lowered her wet cunt to my eager lips. I licked through her pussy, enjoying her flavor and the moans that issued from her lips. I began mimicking what Xiu was doing to my pussy. When Xiu's tongue slipped into my sheath, I shoved my tongue into Lillian's cunt, enjoying the feel of the silky, wet walls on my tongue. Then Xiu nibbled gently at my clit.

"Oh, Mistress!" Lillian gasped as I gently nipped at her clit with my teeth. "That feels wonderful. Thank you, thank you! I'm the luckiest slut in the world!"

April and Jessica continued nursing at my breasts, their lips and tongues sending pleasure tingling from my nipples down to my womb. Jessica sucked hard, nipping at my nipple, while April let her tongue do most of the work, swirling about my nub, then gently kissed my breast, while she humped hard at my thigh; I loved the feel of her cream on my skin. I had three mouths kissing and licking me, driving me closer and closer to a shuddering orgasm. When it finally exploded inside me, I screamed my pleasure into Lillian's pussy.

"Fuck yes!" moaned Lillian, cumming and flooding my mouth with her tart juices. "Thank you! Oh, thank you, Mistress!"

Lillian cuddled next to me, and I reached over her to grab a slice of honeydew melon as Xiu, April, and Jessica slipped into a daisy chain on the floor. I took a bite of the sweet melon, listening to the moans of pleasure from the three sluts, when I felt nausea churn in my stomach and I bolted to the bathroom.

Mark Glassner – The Willard Intercontinental – Washington D.C.

*This morning sickness is all your fault, Mark Glassner!* Mary sent. I could feel her discomfort in her thoughts.

I was balls deep in Desiree's pussy, fucking the Latina slut as she ate out Tibby's cunt, one of the two women I brought up to my hotel room last night. The other woman was Tibby's teenage daughter Bryanna, who knelt next to Desiree as Alison sucked my cum out of the teen's ass. I was enjoying one last romp with the mother and daughter before I left to attend to Congress.

*Just think of our daughter* I sent back. *Just picture how beautiful she'll be when you hold her in your arms.*

*Who are you fucking?* There was a strange, accusatory tinge to her thought.

*Desiree while she eats out this MILF's ass. Alison is next to us, eating my cum out of the daughter's ass.*

*You're having an orgy while your wife is suffering?*

I frowned and stopped thrusting into Desiree. *What's wrong, Mare?*

*I just hate vomiting. And I wish you were here. I like it when you hold my hair. It's not the same with Lillian.*

*It's only until tomorrow. Then I'll be there to hold your hair. I love you.*

*I love you too. You can keep fucking Desiree. Make her scream for me and give my love to the other sluts.*

I resumed thrusting back into Desiree's cunt. "Was that mi Reina?" she asked.

"Yeah, she said she loves all of her sluts."

Alison beamed, her lips sticky with cum. "Don't stop!" Bryanna gasped. "I'm so close to cumming. Keep licking me slut!"

Alison giggled and dived back into the teen's ass. Desiree's cunt squeezed on my cock; the slut was desperate for my cum. My balls tightened; I was nearing that wonderful edge, about to plummet off into the rapture of release.

"Fucking slut!" I groaned, slapping her full ass, watching her nut-brown cheeks jiggle.

"Cum in me, mi Rey!" she cooed. "Fill me with your spunk so I can make Alison eat me out."

"Umm, I would love that," Alison purred. "I love eating Master's cum out of a woman's hole, particularly when that woman's my sexy wife!"

"Then keep eating my ass if you love his cum!" Bryanna moaned. "Oh Momma, I'm so close to cumming!"

"Me too, pumpkin," Tibby gasped. "Oh god, her tongue is driving me wild. This slut is an expert on muff diving!"

"I taught her well," Alison giggled. "Make that bitch howl, my Latin beauty!"

"Umm, I will, mi Sirenita. And I want to hear that teenage puta explode on your lips!"

"Oh fucking yes! I'm going to explode!" the teen girl shouted. "Holy shit! Her tongue's wiggling up my butthole! Oh my Gods! Oh my fucking Gods!" Her body shook and she collapsed onto her belly. There was a pleased look on Alison's face—a self-satisfied cat licking her lips.

I was almost there, just a few more strokes and I would be basting Desiree's snatch with a huge load of cum. I gripped her hips and slammed into her, savoring every velvety inch of her cunt as my cock plowed in and out. She felt wonderful, driving my balls to distraction, and I unloaded inside her with a low grunt.

"Oh yes, oh yes!" Tibby panted, her pussy grinding into Desiree's face. Tibby collapsed on the bed, quaking as her orgasm crashed through her.

Desiree hadn't climaxed yet, so, after I pulled out of her cunt, I grabbed her clit and rolled it between my fingers a few times. She bucked and screamed, orgasming hard. Her cunt still gaped open; I could see the pink muscles inside spasming as she came, expelling my white cum with her juices.

"Thank you, mi Rey!"

"That was fucking hot!" Alison moaned, then kissed her wife as her fingers rapidly frigged her clit. The two sluts shared the flavor of a mother's cunt and a daughter's ass as Alison writhed, her orgasm shivering through her.

I sent Bryanna and her mother off, both bubbling with joy at spending the night with their God. Violet brought in my breakfast: scrambled eggs with cheese, bacon, and hash browns. I wolfed it down and dressed in the suit that Korina had laid out for me. The sluts wore their provocative clothes: Violet was the naughty schoolgirl this morning, Alison was stunning as a slutty genie, Desiree wore a naughty nurse's outfit, and Korina dressed as a sexy goth girl.

The crowd waiting outside was even larger than last night, a tide somehow being held back by my soldiers, surging against them in their eagerness to see me. My soldiers were calling themselves the Legion: nearly 10,000 Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marines that had sworn oaths of fidelity to me and had been bound by the Ragily prayer, the Monk version of the Zimmah spell. Unlike the Warlock spell, Ragily didn't bind their life-force to me, but they would stay loyal as long as they served, and were gifted with certain advantages in fighting the supernatural.

A cadre of the bodyguards formed up around me, dressed as sexy cops. All were volunteers now, and their numbers had swelled to one hundred—all bound to me by the Zimmah spell. My poor mom's cunt was getting raw from the number of times I had to fuck her earlier this week to bind all these cops to me. 51, commander of the bodyguards, saluted me.

"Good morning, sir," she said, a smile on her ebony face.

"Let's get going," I said after greeting her with a kiss. Two of the bodyguards opened the hotel door and I stepped out to the cheering crowd.

Everything went blue around me, a shimmering field of rippling energy.

I froze; someone just shot at me and the bullet was deflected by my amulet. A loud gunshot cracked across the square and all the bodyguards and soldiers drew their weapons, scanning the crowd. Fear spurred my heart into overdrive and flooded ice through my veins. I was engulfed in blue two more times in rapid succession. I caught a muzzle flash from an apartment window to my left across the street. Only, it looked like the drapes were still drawn across that window.

I stared at the window and saw the fourth muzzle flash – a tongue of red-orange fire – pass through the curtain, but not disturb the fabric in anyway, before everything went blue around me again. One of the bodyguards tried to draw me back and I shook her off. I could see soldiers already pushing through the crowd, racing to that building while the counter-snipers on the hotel's roof opened fire.

An idea popped into my head. There were news crews here – wherever Mary or I went, there were always news and paparazzi around – and they were broadcasting the attack to the world. This was the perfect opportunity to demonstrate some Godly powers.

Jerrold Baxter

After the fourth shot bounced off the Tyrant's shield I stopped firing and retreated from the window. The counter-snipers had figured out my position and were firing blindly at me, and one round had already whizzed past my head. I quickly disassembled my rifle and put it into its case. The soldiers out on the streets would be in the building and crashing through this apartment door in about a minute.

Plenty of time to escape.

I unsheathed a bronze knife. "Pasaq! I shouted and stabbed the air. My knife sank into nothingness, the tip vanishing seemingly into thin air. I started to saw the knife, cutting through the very fabric of reality, and began carving a portal to the Shadows.

Slipping into the Shadows, the highest level of the Abyss, was not for the faint of heart, but it was a useful spell Noel had taught us after we made our Pacts. The best part: this spell wasn't found in the Magicks of the Witch of Endor. Noel was positive that Mark knew nothing about it. Apparently, after Noel had been freed from the Tyrants' slavery, she had used her time to research the occult, and she found several other grimoires that had spells in them.

Spells that worked once we all had sold our souls to the Devil.

Mark Glassner

"Get inside, Master!" 51 shouted at me.

"Stay back!" I ordered her. "I don't want to hurt you."

51 let go of me and I unleashed Molech's flames. The fire danced harmlessly on me, but anyone touching me would be burned. I then muttered, "Uwph," the levitation spell, and soared over the crowd towards that window. This was the perfect opportunity to demonstrate my Godly Powers, and I swallowed my fear. Flying – even a few stories above the ground – unnerved me. I focused on the window, trying to ignore the growing distance between me and the ground. As I flew, I summoned my armor, the gold materializing about me, weighing me down slightly and forcing me to correct my trajectory.

I braced myself to crash through the window, crossing my arms and relying on my armor's forearm-guards – the vambraces – to protect my face. Only nothing was there. It was an illusion. I landed in a living room that looked like it belonged to an old lady, tidy, adorned with doilies and vases and pictures of children hanging on the walls. In the center of the room was a man, dark haired and muscular, somehow drawing lines that glowed white in the air.

Drawn by a dagger that appeared to be sunk into nothingness. What the hell was he doing?

The man whirled, yanking his dagger out of the nothingness. It was bronze and glinted sharply as the man went into a fighting stance, the dagger held low. I slipped into an aikido stance, the martial art Azrael had taught me in my dreams. We eyed each other for a moment and then he lashed out with the knife.

I followed the arc, slid to the side and went to grab his knife hand. He moved; I missed the grab, his dagger scraping harmlessly across my gold breastplate. His foot lashed out and caught me on the knee between the greeves and the metal skirt; the pain flashed through me.

I limped back and peered at him and saw only a black aura. He was a Thrall. "Stop!" I ordered him.

He ignored me.

How the hell did he do that? There was no red fringe around his black aura; he wasn't under the Zimmah ritual. So why didn't my power work on him? As I pondered that, he thrust his knife at my face; I quickly brought my arm up and let the stroke glance off my vambrace. I grabbed his hand, shutting off my flames – I wanted to capture the assassin, not burn him to death – and grappled him.

*Are you okay, Mark?* Mary's thought suddenly intruded as the assassin and I fell to the floor in a heap of grasping limbs.

*Busy!* I thought back.

*Oh God, Mark! Be careful!*

The man was on top of me, his dagger slamming down at my face. I grabbed his wrist with my right hand, halting his blow. We strained against each other. I threw an awkward punch at his face with my left hand and he blocked it. I heaved, and rolled him onto his back. He landed hard and the knife skittered away from him. I drew back my fist and punched him as hard as I could in the face.

My fist landed on his brow; I almost screamed in pain as I broke two of the knuckles on my right hand on his skull. The man blinked, looking stunned and trying to shake off the blow, while blood poured from a cut in his eyebrow. I grabbed the knife with my left hand and placed it at his throat.

"Who are you!" I demanded.

"A patriot," he spat back. "Kill me, Tyrant. You will learn nothing from me!"

"How are you ignoring my commands?"

He spat in my face, stinging my eyes. Anger flashed through me like a firestorm and for a moment I started to press the knife into his throat before I stopped myself. You need him alive, I reminded myself. Adrenaline pounded through me, making it hard to think straight. This man tried to kill me and every instinct made me want to drive the dagger home in retribution. I took in a deep breath, trying to ignore the pain in my wrenched knee and broken knuckles, and calmed myself down.

There was an explosion at the door, wooden splinters raining, followed by my shouting soldiers. They froze in surprise and snapped to attention.

"My Lord," the sergeant saluted in surprise.

"Take him," I ordered, rolling off the man.

As the soldiers grabbed the assassin, I closed my eyes and concentrated on healing my broken knuckles and wrenched knee. The pain melted away as the bones reknit and torn ligaments mended. I stood up, dismissing my armor, and it fell off me in golden sparkles. The prisoner was bound with plastic cuffs and the soldiers were searching him roughly.

*I'm safe, Mary* I sent.

*What were you thinking!* Mary demanded. *I just watched you on the news, flying like a comet at the man who tried to kill you! We have bodyguards and soldiers for shit like that! I about had a heart-attack watching your idiocy!*

I felt sheepish. *Sorry, Mare. I thought it would be good PR. You know, Gods shouldn't run from danger. *

*Good PR? Good fucking PR?* I could feel an almost hysterical incredulity through the sending. *You idiot! You're too important to risk on goddamn foolishness like that.*

I let the insult slide; she was just scared. *Watch out, Mare. This guy looked like a regular Thrall, but he ignored my orders.*

Unease filled her sending, *Sam gets back tonight. I'm flying down to D.C. with her as soon as her plane lands.*

*What about the UN?*

*The UN can go fuck itself, Mark!* Her fear and concern poured through the sending. *I need to see that you're all right. In person. I can always fly back to New York tomorrow in time.*

*Okay, Mare. Love you.*

*I love you too, even if you can be pigheadedly stupid sometimes. Good PR!*

Sheila Robbins, New York City

"Pasaq!" I shouted and stabbed my bronze knife into the air and slowly drew open a portal into the Shadows.

I was in an apartment looking down at the Waldorf-Astoria, the owner sleeping peacefully on his bed. On the news, they were showing Baxter getting dragged out, captured by Mark. I cursed, the Tyrant was far more powerful than Noel had reckoned. How had he deflected the bullet? The news clearly showed that the first shot caught the bastard off-guard.

I didn't have time to think about that now. Down at the hotel, I could see Mary's party preparing to leave and I jumped into the Shadows.

Clearly, sniper rifles were not the way to defeat them. They must have some sort of spell in place to protect them from gunfire. I was going to try a different way to kill Mary. I could slip through the Shadows and pop out right behind her and shove my dagger through her back before anyone could react. I knew just where to strike to slide past the ribs and find her heart. My blade was thick; it would destroy her heart. She would be dead before a cardiothoracic surgeon could even have a chance to save her.

Ten years in the CIA had taught me a few things.

I was surprisingly calm as I moved through the Shadows. I was going to die. It was unavoidable. Once I stepped out, I would have a few seconds to plunge my knife into her back before all those soldiers and sluts they called bodyguards would react and gun me down. It would be worth it. I would have killed one of the Tyrants.

Sometimes the mission is so important, so vital, to your Country's freedom that you have to give up your life. A lesson I learned at the Farm during my training. I had spent years in backwater hellholes to protect my Country, so there was no way in hell I could stand back and watch the Tyrants destroy it. I was prepared to die to keep it free.

Moving through the Shadows was different. Distances didn't measure directly. After taking a few steps, I could see Mary through the mists when I concentrated. I thrust my dagger into the veil that separated the mortal world and the afterlife, and started to carve my portal. It was faster to create on this side, somehow easier to return to the mortal world than to enter the spiritual. I drew the portal rapidly, my heart beating faster and faster. Three sides down, my knife sliding upwards to complete the doorway.

I was going to die with Mary's blood on my blade.

A cold hand grabbed me and yanked me backwards face-to-face with a blonde, naked woman. She stared fiercely into my eyes; hers were blue and filled with an icy fury. "You will not touch our Mistress," she hissed. Anger filled her voice, a terrible, cold rage that I had never felt in the living.

Our? I glanced around as I struggled in her cold grip only to see more women. Maybe a dozen of them, surrounding me. Shit! I stabbed my bronze knife at the blonde's chest, aiming for her heart. I would need to kill her quickly if I had any chance against the rest. The blade bounced off her breast, the tip slightly bent. The blonde didn't even seem to notice the blow.

"You should not have come here, mortal," the blonde told me. She had Scandinavian cheekbones and she reminded me of a Valkyrie—beautiful, implacable, deadly.

Her other hand lashed out, grabbing my throat, and squeezed. I struggled in vain as cold fingers choked off my air. No! I couldn't die! Not without stabbing that Mary in the fucking heart! I could not fail and let that bitch live!

I tried to saw through the fingers about my throat with the bronze blade, while my booted feet lashed at her legs. My toe cracked against her shin, and my knife didn't even seem to irritate the skin of her fingers. My vision fuzzed, everything going black around me as my lungs burned for oxygen.

No! No! No! I will not be defeated by some naked, blonde bimbo!

The knife clattered from my hand. The strength fled my body. It was getting too hard to think; my vision reduced to a narrow tunnel filled with her fierce, blue eyes. No, I weakly protested as the tunnel shrank, narrowed, vanished.

I was falling, falling, falling.

Into darkness. Into fire.

"Welcome, welcome," a familiar voice roared as the flames began to consume me, cracking my skin. Lucifer appeared before me, shining like the sun. A red chain – molten, burning – bound about my neck, led to him. It was one of thousands. Everywhere I looked there were burning men and women; all the foolish idiots that sold their souls to him.

Oh God, I made a mistake. I tried to scream, but the flames burned down my throat when I opened my mouth, filling every fiber of my soul with pain. Nothing was worth this torment. No Country, no Flag, no person. Oh God, nothing was worth this torment!

Mark Glassner – Washington D.C.

The Honorable Senator from the Great State of Texas was speaking when I walked into the Senate. His eyes fixed flinty on me as a great uproar went through the room. All the senators who were not under my power pulled earplugs out of their pockets and quickly put them into their ears. Irritation flashed through me; people were getting wise to the limitations of our powers. It didn't matter; my soldiers had already surrounded the Capital Building, trapping most of the Senators and Congressmen inside.

The Senator from Texas, Ronald Bybee, put in his own earplugs and kept orating, "The Great State of Texas can no longer stand-by and watch as our Great Nation kowtows to this monster!" His finger pointed at me, jabbing with such violence like he wanted to reach across the room and plunge his finger deep into my heart. "Governor Holt has asked me to convey his decisions. As of today, October 7th, 2013, the Great State of Texas secedes from the Union and will once again be the Republic of Texas!"

I surveyed the Senators. Half looked worshipfully at me, kneeling down, while their colleagues with their earplugs either scowled defiantly or stared fearfully at me. Up in the gallery, the C-SPAN cameras rolled. The Legion streamed around me, fanning about the room, their boots echoing loudly.

"Do not kill anyone," I ordered. "Remove their earplugs."

I watched as my soldiers surged into the Senators. I felt a pang of guilt. I was betraying everything my Country stood for: Freedom, Liberty, Democracy. Our forefathers had reject the tyranny of Kings, and here I was imposing the harsher tyranny of a God upon them. It was all for the greater good, I told myself. Mary hinted that something bad was coming; we needed to prepare the world. Besides, once we had every man, woman, and child enthralled to us there would be an end to violence—to the suffering that men callously inflicted on each other. Everyone would be happy and live peacefully with their neighbors.

That was worth a little tyranny, right?

*33 governors and 11 lieutenant governors arrived for the meeting. Six States didn't send anyone* Mary sent. She was at a meeting of State Governors; we needed to get the State Governments under our thumbs just as much as the Federal Government. *How is it going at Congress?*

*I take it Texas is one of the six that didn't send a representative?*

*How did you know?* Surprise pulsed in her thought.

*Texas just seceded from the Union.*

*Does the Govenor of Texas know you have his National Guard under your control?* Mary asked.

*He's about to find out the hard way, I'm afraid.* I paused, considering Mary's news. *I think we should arrest those governors that just sent their lieutenants, and place their lieutenants in charge of those States.*

*Yeah, I think that's a good idea.* Bitter regret filled her reply. *Are we doing the right thing?*

*Hopefully, Mare.*

The commotion had died down, the resistant Senators had been cowed and were under guard; their earplugs removed. Only a few of them had to be roughly handled. Geraldine Medley, one of Washington State's two senators walked up to the podium. "Senators, I'm proud to welcome our Lord and Protector, Mark Glassner!"

The loyal senators clapped and a few of the more bold, captured senators booed as I strode up to the Podium. "I am here today to have the Senate confirm that I am your loving God, here to protect you from the coming Darkness."

As I spoke, my enemies became my most fervent allies. The Senate passed a constitutional amendment declaring us the Gods of America and our worship as the official State Religion. Then they agreed to a treaty placing America beneath the auspices of our Theocracy—the first sovereign state to be brought beneath our world government. They passed other laws, stripping all other religions of their tax exemption and further imposing a tax on all churches, synagogues, temples, mosques, shrines, and any other place of worship that didn't follow us.

With the Senate in hand, I walked over to the House of Representatives to deal with the Congressmen and -women. My soldiers had already secured them and, after I had finished speaking, they unanimously voted for the laws, treaty, and amendments that the Senate had passed. I felt dirty as I left Congress, and kept telling myself it was all for the greater good.

After leaving Congress, I visited a few of the Embassies in D.C.: the British, French, and German, and placed their ambassadors under our control. The situation with Europe was tense. All the world leaders not under our power were avoiding our phone calls, making it difficult to get them under control. The ones that were under our power were facing considerable political turmoil. The Prime Minister of Britain, loyal to us, had been forced to resign by a Motion of No Confidence. Various parties were now vying for power in their Parliament. Worse happened to the unfortunate President of Pakistan: he had been beheaded by fundamentalists rallying behind the Taliban.

Mary arrived at the hotel that evening, flying down from New York just like she promised. It had been a long day, and I was tired and happy to see my wife.

"Mark!" Mary cried, rushing to me and throwing her arms around my neck and kissing me on the lips. Her hands ran all over my body. "You're not hurt, are you?"

"No, no, I'm fine, Mare!"

Then she poked me hard in the chest. "You need to be more careful! Good PR! Really, Mark?"

"Sorry."

Then she kissed me again and clung to me. Beyond my wife, I could see both Sam and Candy. They both looked tired and Candy had her arms wrapped around Sam's waist. "You have it?" I asked them.

"Yes, sir," Sam answered. "Though we did run into some trouble."

Mary nodded. "I had to heal Candy. She had a badly broken leg, and Sam had some cuts too."

"What happened?"

"Lilith," Candy spat. "One of her children."

"An Alukah," Sam explained. "A type of vampire. It killed two police officers and almost drained me dry of my blood." Sam glanced fondly at Candy. "But she saved my life."

Candy flushed. "It was nothing, Sam. You would have done the same for me."

"She was amazing," Sam continued. "She broke her leg jumping out of a second story window and then dragged herself back into the Motherhouse to save me." Sam gave her a brief kiss on the lips. "Anyway, I can start constructing the Matmown right away."

"Good," Mary smiled, then glanced at me. "So, you captured a man immune to your powers?"

Sam's eyes lit up. "A Warlock?"

"No, he has a black aura. Only, there's no red fringe indicating he's under the Zimmah spell," I answered.

"Interesting," Sam smiled.

"That's one word for it," I muttered as I led them to the elevator.

The elevator creaked down to the basement. The walls were bare, mortared concrete blocks, the floor a hard slab of more concrete. Soldiers guarded a utility room and muffled heavy metal music bled through the door. Was that Cannibal Corpse? The soldiers saluted, then they opened the door.

The assassin was handcuffed to a chair, a black bag over his head. A CIA interrogator leaned against the wall and straightened when I entered. He quickly turned the music off and the room plunged into ringing silence.

"What have you learned?" I asked.

The CIA interrogator shrugged. "Not much, my Lord. He's Agent Jerrold Baxter, FBI. Thirteen years in the FBI, seven as an HRT sniper." I frowned at the acronym. "Hostage Rescue Team. A counter-terrorist unit. Highly trained. No black marks on his record, three citations for bravery and one Medal of Valor, a very prestigious award in the FBI."

Mary pulled the mask off the man then stuck a finger underneath her skirt. It came away wet with her juices and she traced a symbol on the man's head—the Mark of Qayin. It was necessary to anchor any prayers she needed to cast on the prisoner. She murmured a Nun's prayer, then frowned, straightening. "He's not a Thrall."

I looked at my wife in confusion. "What? His aura?"

"If he were a Thrall he would be staring blankly ahead," Mary replied.

"It is possible he's a Warlock," Sam suggested. "If he made the right wish, perhaps it could have camouflaged his aura. Or perhaps there is a spell that can do the same."

Mary reached down and unzipped his pants, pulling out his cock. "What the fuck!" the assassin gasped.

Mary grimaced and stroked him, then bent down and sucked his cock into her mouth. A bewildered expression filled the assassin's face as Mary's head bobbed up and down. I gritted my teeth, hating to see my wife degrade herself. Memories flashed through my mind of Brandon holding her face, ramming his cock into her mouth, while she pretended to love it. I fought down the bile and anger. If I could I would bring Brandon back from the dead just to put another bullet in his head.

Sweat broke out on the man's face and I could see him struggling to resist. He fought against his orgasm for a while, but Mary never stopped sucking, one hand gently massaging his balls. She alternated between deep-throating him, and licking just the tip of his cock. He squirmed in the chair; his face grew red and his breath quickened.

"Shit!" he moaned.

Mary quickly pulled her mouth off his cock, white cum shooting up into the air, and hissed, "Shalak." The Mark of Qayin blazed white on the man's head and his aura became silver.

A regular mortal's aura.

Mary coughed and spat out his cum. The CIA interrogator handed her a water bottle and she noisily washed her mouth out, spitting into the corner of the room as I studied the man. My mind whirled. A Warlock that looked like a Thrall. A quarter of the nation must be under our powers by now; a sea of people that a Warlock with the right wish or spell could hide in. I glanced at Sam: eyes furrowed, mind churning away. She was always thinking, always working out problems..

"Why did you try to kill me?" I finally asked.

His aura turned black as my power affected him. "For Liberty!" he spat. "Did you think that you could enslave our Great Nation and patriots would not rise up and fight you?"

"There are more of you?" Mary asked, walking back.

"Many," he spat. "We will not rest until you two are dead!"

"What are their names?" I demanded.

He frowned, and struggled to talk. "I...can't...say!" he gasped.

"Ask him what his wishes were," Sam suggested. I did.

"I wished to be immune from another person's control; to make my aura appear black like a Thrall's; and that anyone who signed our pledge could not have their names revealed to the Tyrants, Mark and Mary Glassner, and any who serve them." He laughed, an almost maniacal, unhinged sound. "You see, as long as one of us still has our Pact, no-one can be forced to reveal our names!"

"You all made a Pact?"

His grin was wild. "All the Patriots! I may have failed today, but there will be others. We shall not stop! We are everywhere! We are legion!"

General Gonzalo Olmos – The Governor's Mansion, Austin, Texas

Governor Quincy Holt, the traitor to his Gods and Country, stood on the porch of the Governor's Mansion besides the massive, white Doric columns that supported the roof. Local and national media were in attendance, filming the traitor as he prepared to make his speech declaring that Texas had seceded from the Union. The lawn was full of men and women cheering and clapping, waving Texan flags.

No US Flag flew on the mansion, only the State Flag. The Republic of Texas's flag.

"It is with a heavy heart that I made my decision," the traitor said into the microphones. "But I could not let the Great State of Texas fall into the hands of a false messiah. There is only one God, and his name is not Mark Glassner!"

A great cheer went up from the crowd. Signs were waved, reading: "Jesus is my savior, not Mark," " 'Thou shalt have no gods before me.' Exodus 20:3," "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the exercise thereof!" and many more.

They were all traitors.

"General Olmos," Captain Brentmeyers saluted.

I was the Adjutant General for the Texan National Guard. When Governor Holt mobilized the Guard to secede from the Union, I had been so sick to my stomach. His actions today would not pass unanswered. I would help my Gods preserve this Great Nation and not let some disgusting politician pull it apart like a murder of crows over a carcass. There would be no second Civil War if I could help it.

All of my soldiers agreed with me.

"Everything is ready, sir," the captain told me, his young face pale.

"It will be okay, son," I told him, clasping his shoulder and giving him a reassuring squeeze. "For our Country and for our Gods."

He swallowed, straightening his back. "Yes, sir!"

The traitor continued his speech as I marched along the edge of the crowd towards the porch. My soldiers were positioned around the lawn, supposedly a show of support for the traitorous Governor. The bastard nodded to me – a jovial smile crossing his fat, ruddy face and a pleased, oily look filled his eyes as he saw me; the disgusting slug lusted for power – as I climbed the stairs to join him.

"General Olmos and I will protect..."

His oily eyes bulged in surprise as I drew my service handgun – a Colt .45 with a nickle-plated grip that I had polished until it gleamed like silver – and placed it to the traitor's forehead. "For Mark and Mary!" I roared and executed him.

To be continued...

---

The Devil's Pact Chapter 42: Dreams

mypenname3000

Fantasy, Anal, Ass to mouth, Ass to pussy, Blowjob, Cum Swallowing, Female/Female, Group Sex, Incest, Lesbian, Male / Females, Male/Female, Male/Teen Female, Mind Control, Oral Sex, Threesome, Transsexual, Virginity, Wife

Introduction:

Mark and Mary have cemented their control over America, and Sam is hard at work constructing the Matmown.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She flushed and shivered. "Of course, my Lord."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I should," she gasped in realization as the command sank in. "I've been so lonely since Fereydoon died."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I know," I smiled, giving her ass a squeeze.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Because you're a filthy slut?" I demanded.

"The filthiest!"

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

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

"Do it, slut," I ordered.

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

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

"What, slut?" I asked the nurse.

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

"You're quite talented," I moaned. "I think we can find a place for you."

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

Xiu smacked her ass. "Don't stop sucking his cock, whore!"

"Sorry!" she gasped, and engulfed my cock.

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

"Good," I moaned.

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

"Whose the next child I'm healing?" I asked Xiu.

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

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

"My God," her husband murmured and bowed.

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

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

"Oh my baby," her father cried, hugging her.

"You healed her," the mother whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

"Have you ever had sex, Jenny?" I asked.

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

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

He smiled a little foolishly. "I've never had complaints, my Lord."

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

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

"Let's see those tits, Jenny," I moaned.

"Um, okay, sure," she muttered, looking away in embarrassment.

"What do you say," her father admonished.

"Right, yes, my Lord," Jenny sheepishly answered.

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

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

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

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

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

"She's my angel," Irene whispered.

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

"I don't under...oh." Irene flushed crimson. "No."

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

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

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

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

"Oh fuck!" Jenny gasped.

"Language, young lady," reprimanded her dad.

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

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

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

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

"Why haven't you ever let your husband fuck your ass?"

"It's dirty," she answered.

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

"Oh...um...yes, dear!" she panted, her voice tight with pleasure. "I'd be...uhhh...thrilled to!"

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

"Oh, Mom!" she gasped. "Oh yes, that's...ohhh...so amazing!"

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

*Mark, are you staying on task?* sent Mary.

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

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

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

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

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

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

*Yes, dear* I promised.

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

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

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

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

*How many?* I pressed.

*Six* she answered weakly. *I got sidetracked.*

*That's my naughty filly!*

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

*Sure, Mare. Love ya.*

*Love you, too.*

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

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

Irene looked up from her daughter's cunt, sticky with her juices, and smiled. "Absolutely, my Lord!"

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

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

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

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

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

"Language!" snapped her dad as he reamed her mom's ass.

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

"Language, young lady! That's your last warning!"

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

"Shit," he moaned.

"Language, dad!" Jenny exclaimed.

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

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

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

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

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

I gave her another kiss. "You'll always remember the day you fucked a God," I told her.

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

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

"I will," she smiled, sniffing.

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

"Spectre, Spectre!" a voice suddenly crackled on 51's radio.

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

"Sitrep!" 51 calmly said into the radio.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fucking Patriots," I muttered.

"We need to do something about them," Mary growled. I couldn't agree more.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sir," 51 whispered, gently shaking me. "We're here."

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

"Yeah, Mare."

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

"The Patriots claimed today's attack was retribution for the Governor Mansion Massacre," one reporter shouted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I wish we could just stay here forever."

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

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

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

"We have this night," I told her."

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

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

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

"We're about to land," he told me.

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

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

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

"What are you doing?" I asked.

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

"Wow," Mark whistled. "I didn't know you were a writer."

April flushed. "I've always thought about it. I wrote a few...dirty stories and published them on the internet."

Mark laughed. "What a naughty slut."

I bent down and kissed her on the lips. "Good luck. I can't wait to read it."

April managed to blush an even deeper shade of crimson. "I'll do my very best."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Even if I burned to create my own cock sometimes.

"It's finished," Sam answered.

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

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

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

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

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

It was the only chance we had.

Lilith – The Abyss

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why would I interfere. Everything you do serves my purpose."

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

He shrugged. "I'll know soon enough."

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

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

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

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

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

I am a Goddess.

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

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

"Lana," I said imperiously.

"Yes, my Goddess?" she asked.

"Attend me."

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

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

"Use my naughty cunt to relieve yourself," she purred.

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

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

"Gladly," Lana answered and pulled her wife's cock into her lips.

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

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

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

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

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

"My Goddess," she panted. "Thank you!"

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

Primal, vital lust.

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

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

I have a spy.

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

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

"You're welcome," Chantelle answered. "Do you have something to give me?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Umm, let me taste our Goddess's seed," cooed Lana.

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

Their lust stirred my passions, hardening my cock.

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

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

To be continued...

---

The Devil's Pact Chapter 43: The Hidden Place

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Introduction:

The Matmown is completed, and Mark and Mary make their plans to deal with Lilith and Lucifer.

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

–The Gospel of April 41:51-52

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

The door to the Matmown clanged shut.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?" I asked her.

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

"So we don't kill Lilith," Violet said. "If she lives, Lucifer cannot be summoned."

"That's great!" Xiu exclaimed, her heavy tits jiggling. "We just have to capture her."

It couldn't be that simple, right?

"Capture Lilith?" Lillian snorted with derision. "Yeah, that'll be easy."

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

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

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

"So, how do we capture her?" Willow asked.

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

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

"Do we have an alternative, mi Reina?"

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

"What's Kumrum?" April asked. "It sounds like a drink."

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

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

"Right," Lillian sheepishly grinned. "So I'll enjoy the rum and you can enjoy the cum!"

"Sure," April sighed.

"We'll have so much fun!" Lillian declared.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That would be very satisfying to see, mi Rey!"

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

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

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

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

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

"It's risky, Mark," Mary said, breaking the silence.

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

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

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

"We definitely need the Legion," Korina said. "Master, you are powerful, but you'll need soldiers to occupy the city."

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

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

"Then we should wait months," Mary concluded.

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

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

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

"Of course. The City owns hundreds of buildings." Jessica's caramel face shown with excitement.

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

"Let's send the Legion in and flush the bitch out!" Alison exclaimed. "She tried to kill Master."

Next to Alison, Desiree pounded her fist on the table. "Let's exterminate her entire verminous brood."

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

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

"We'll be careful," I told her, taken aback by her objections. "Don't you trust me?"

"Of course I trust you, it's just..." she trailed-off, a helpless look on her face.

"You just don't think I can do this?" A bitter feeling spread through my stomach.

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

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

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

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

"I say we wait," Mary stubbornly said. "It's stupid to rush this."

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

"I didn't say that, Mark," she spat. "But you're being a pigheaded fool!"

I grit my teeth. "Now what?"

"Let's vote," she declared. "Everyone give your honest opinion. Who says we wait?"

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

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

"Fine," she said flatly, tossed her auburn hair and stalked away. "It's only the World!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alison nodded vigorously. "We'll make them all pay, Master!"

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

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

"Let's call it a wrap," I yawned. "I think we all could use some sleep."

Upstairs, the bodyguards wouldn't let me into my suite. "Mistress said not to," she apologized.

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

Mary Glassner

I was furious at Mark.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I...um...yes, ma'am," the Black bodyguard stammered.

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

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

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

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

"Sorry, Mistress."

"It's okay," I muttered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What about Mark?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*Let's talk* I sent back. *I'm in our bedroom.*

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

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

"At once, Mistress."

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

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

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

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

He was right. I sighed, "I know."

"We'll be careful, move slowly. Take no risks."

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

"What?" he asked, a little wary.

"Nothing," I sighed.

He pressed, stroking my cheek. "What, Mare?"

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

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

"Sometimes..." I took a deep breath. "Sometimes I think about having one again."

He looked at me, his mind whirling. "I...I don't know what to say."

"It would make you uncomfortable, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah," he admitted. "It's kinda hot watching Sam, but..."

"It's weird."

He nodded. "If it's something you really want... I guess I could adjust."

I smiled at him. "No, it's not something I really want. I just think about it sometimes."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Umm, that was delicious," I purred, nuzzling his neck.

"I love you," he whispered, rolling off me.

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

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

Loving me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Is your plan ready, General?" I asked.

"Yes, my Lord. Colonel." The General motioned to Abbey.

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

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

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

"Of course, my Lord," Colonel Abbey nodded.

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

"We're ready for that, my Lord," General Brook answered.

"Won't Lilith spot the troops getting ready?" Jessica asked.

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

"HP?" I asked.

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

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

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

"Someone we can trust," I put in.

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

Lillian grinned. "She's the best slut for the job."

"I'll do it, Master," Jessica nodded.

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

"Korina is right, I do know the city."

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

"A platoon of Rangers?" Colonel Abbey suggested.

"Do it," Mary commanded.

I looked at Sam. "Is your trip all arranged?"

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

"With that platoon of soldiers you promised," Candy interjected.

I nodded. "It's all taken care of."

"Is there any other business?" Mary asked.

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

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

The damned soldiers were continuing their exercises past midnight.

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

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

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

"My Goddess," Chantelle yawned, rubbing her eyes as she stood up from the secretary's chair.

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

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

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

"Fiona is watching him, my Goddess."

"Good, good, you may retire for the night."

Chantelle bowed, smiling. "Thank you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes, yes, yes!" she gasped. "Oh, Mother, yes!"

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

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

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

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

"My Goddess," a voice whispered urgently.

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

"Mark's soldiers are encircling the city, they..."

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

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

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

"I'm going, Mark," my wife declared, her emerald eyes iron with determination.

"It's not safe, Mare," I objected. "You're pregnant. Think about our child."

"If you're going, I'm going," she firmly said. "If you die, so does our child, so it hardly matters."

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

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

"But..."

"It's settled," she said, tossing her auburn ponytail. "I'm going, so just accept it."

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

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

"My armor covers more places," I muttered.

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

I felt my cock stir in my black fatigues. "Really?"

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

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

"Summon your armor," Mary smiled. "Look impressive for your troops."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My watch's alarm went off.

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

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

A piercing screech filled the night.

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

To be continued...