1 Movie Night

by Stayrr

You Knew What.

170. The Devil's Pact 44 - 53

The Devil's Pact Side-Story: Lillian Get's Spanked

mypenname3000

Fantasy, Blowjob, Female Domination, Female/Female, Lesbian, Male / Females, Male Domination, Male/Female, Oral Sex, Pregnant, Sado-Masochism, Spanking, Water Sports/Pissing, Wife

Introduction:

Lillian was a bad slut, and needs her Mistres

The Devil's Pact Side-Story: Lillian Gets Spanked

Notes: This takes place during Chapter 43.

Friday, November 8th, 2013 – Lillian Franks – Murano Hotel, Tacoma, WA

"Lillian," Tomoyo greeted when I opened my hotel room door. She was one of the maids, and cute as a button with dark, slanted eyes and a petite body. I had enjoyed the teen and her tiny tits a few times. She was a screamer. "My Lady will attend to your punishment now."

I had to suppress my grin. I had mouthed off during the meeting in the Matmown early this morning. Very early. Master and Mistress hadn't gotten back from Nebraska until well after midnight. Mistress had promised to discipline me tonight and—

The Devil was using Master to get free.

My good mood almost evaporated at the thought's intrusion. The Devil wanted to break free, and was using Master to do it. Now we were planning on attacking Lilith and capturing the bitch, and thereby thwarting the Devil's plans. So long as Lilith lived, he was trapped. A surge of excitement exploded inside my stomach; I couldn't wait to humiliate the demoness and pay her back for Karen's death!

"If you will follow me, miss," Tomoyo motioned. As if I didn't know the way to Master and Mistress's suite. It was just a floor above.

"Lead on, cutie," I grinned, and reached under her skirt to give her naked ass a playful squeeze. Nice and firm. She tossed a sultry smile over her shoulder.

We passed Abigail, a gorgeous brunette maid, her heavy tits jiggling wonderfully in her mesh bodice, and her ass swayed beautifully beneath her skirt and ruffled petticoats. Tomoyo gave a furtive glance at the maid; her light-olive cheeks tinged with red.

I pulled her into the elevator. "So you're sweet on hot, little Abigail?"

She looked down, perfectly capturing that sexy, demure posture of a geisha. Willow had a great eye for talent. Every maid was perfect. "She doesn't even notice me."

"Make her notice you," I purred. "Attack her. Kiss her. Stick your hand down the front of her blouse and play with those delightful melons of hers."

She looked so cute as her blush deepened. I wanted to press her against the elevator and devour her. Fuck! I had my punishment with Mistress, and after that I was going out with Violet and April. Tomorrow night, maybe? If I remember, I'll trip her into my bed and ravish her. And maybe Abigail, too.

"I couldn't do that," Tomoyo moaned. "What if she pushes me away?"

"She won't." I pinched her ass. "You have such a cute vibe that just screams 'ravish me.' She won't be able to resist. She's a hot blooded-slut. Trust me!"

Abigail loved to dine on fish taco, and devoured mine for an hour straight two nights ago. The girl had an insatiable mouth. She'd eat little Tomoyo for breakfast. I wanted to see that! I pressed my thighs together, moisture trickling down my leg. Damn! I needed a nice cum.

Well, it was fun getting spanked by Mistress.

The elevator dinged. Two bodyguards, 49 and 50, guarded Master and Mistress's suite. They were new guards that had joined after Brandon's attack, and both were, of course, gorgeous. 49 was a stunning African American, with a pair of voluminous, ebony breasts about to fall out of her blouse, while 50 had bright, red hair that fell in curls around her more modest, though still lovely, chest.

49 slapped my ass through the very short, red-and-black tartan skirt I wore. "Naughty slut!" she grinned.

"All the time," I laughed, and gave her a kiss on the lips. She may be new, but she fit right in with the rest of us horny women.

I adjusted my blouse, plain white, tied just below my perky, B cup tits. When I walked, they swayed and jiggled, my nipples pink shadows through the thin material. I ran a finger through my black hair highlighted with bright blue and purple, pushing a loose strand behind my ear.

"You look hot," giggled 50. "Ma'am is going to thoroughly enjoy punishing you."

I licked my lips, enjoying the cool, metallic feel of my lip piercing, and smiled. "I better not keep her waiting!"

50 opened the door, ushering me in. "She's waiting in their bedroom."

The suite was luxurious, and had several bedrooms, though only one was in use. Each of us sluts had our own suite, except Alison and Desiree who shared one. I strode across the room, putting on a suitably fearful expression. Mistress would love that.

I knocked softly at the bedroom door.

"Enter," Mistress answered.

She sat at her vanity in a blue, silk robe. Her beautiful, auburn hair cascaded about her shoulders as she gently worked a long-handled brush through it. My asscheeks tightened. Is that what she's going to spank me with? She didn't glance at me, so I just stood there, my stomach slowly twisting in knots.

Another bead of pussy juice ran down my thigh. It tickled; I wanted to plunge my hand beneath my skirt and stroke my aching cunt. But, no, Mistress wouldn't want that. She hummed, still brushing her beautiful hair. She shifted; the robe was open, and I could see the profile of her perky, freckled breast topped by a dusky nipple and the gentle swell of her pregnant belly. Perfection!

I shifted my hips, shivering as my thighs pressed against my burning clit. I could see a smile playing on her lips. Her nipples hardened, rising up like little, dark-pink shoots. My own nipples were hard, and when I breathed they rubbed pleasantly against the fabric of my blouse. Another tremble passed through me; I needed to cum. I needed to be punished.

Please, Mistress, please!

She never looked at me once, though her smile grew more and more pleased as my trembling became more and more pronounced. My thighs were drenched with my passion, and the air was thick with my tart aroma. I rubbed sweaty palms on my tartan skirt, then forced them to grasp my sleek thighs. I so wanted to shove my hands between my legs. I knew I would cum in a matter of seconds. No! You are her slut! It's not your place to cum unless she wants you to.

But God, I so wanted to disobey her.

Finally, she carefully set her brush down, and stood up and turned, her green eyes flashing with admiration. I looked downward, full of remorse. Her smile grew more wicked. She shrugged, and her robe slipped to the floor; I feasted on her glory. She was the most beautiful woman in the world. Even before I became their slut, I had enjoyed my fair share of hotties, but they were all candles compared to her bonfire.

"Why are you here?" she asked, her fingers idly stroking her belly, just starting to show her pregnancy, before trailing down to play with her silky pubic hair shaped into a fiery heart.

"To be punished, Mistress," I answered contritely, still looking down at her dainty feet. "I belittled my fellow slut."

"And how should I punish you?"

"The hairbrush, Mistress," I moaned, squeezing my thighs together. I was so hot. I could cum just by squeezing my aching clit.

"I want you to apologize first," she smiled, stretching out on the bed.

I looked around. Was Violet here?

"With your tongue," Mistress answered. "All over my body."

"Oh, yes!" I sauntered to the bed. "I am so sorry, Mistress. Let my naughty tongue caress your heavenly body."

I crawled onto the bed, grasping her soft hand. I brought her dainty fingers to my lips, and sucked. I worshiped them with my tongue like they were Master's cock. Nibbling, sucking, licking. I rubbed her palm against my cheek, kissed her palm lines like I was reading her future, then nibbled her wrist. I moved up her arm, leaving a trail of smooches. Her skin was silk, and I could taste the perfume of her bathwater. Lavender and jasmine filled my nose, mixed with her spicy, sweet scent and my own tart musk.

I nuzzled her armpit, licking the bare skin, then worked my way around her neck. "I am so sorry, Mistress," I cooed, then licked up to her ear and tongued her lobe. "I'm such a naughty slut." She sighed. I kissed her forehead, eyebrows, her cute nose. I worked around her lips, down to her chin, and round to the right side of her face.

Then I kissed her lips. Gentle, chaste, brief. Her green eyes shone with passion, pupils wide with desire. Her tongue ran slowly across her lush lips, tasting me. I nuzzled her neck, kissing and sucking, and worked my way down her right arm, loving this limb as thoroughly as I loved her left.

"Lillian," she purred as I sucked her finger. Her left hand slid through my black hair. "Keep apologizing! I want to know that you are truly sorry."

I moved down to her left foot, licking the sole, then pressed the soft bottom of her foot against my face. She had such beautiful feet. I smooched up her arch until I sucked her big toe into my lips. I lavished all her dainty toes with my most sincere apology. My poor pussy ached, but that had to wait. My Mistress still wasn't convinced.

"I am so, very, very sorry," I groaned as I kissed up her calf. I licked at the crease behind her knee, then smooched down her inner thigh. "I'll prove it."

Her spicy, sweet scent threatened to overwhelm me as I drew nearer and nearer to her tight, flushed, and drenched pussy. Her breathing picked up, her perky breasts rising and falling as I neared her heat. I could just start to taste her cream staining her thighs, when I skirted around her pussy and followed the lines of her hips upward.

I reached her left breast and attacked her nipple.

"Oh, fuck!" she gasped, not expecting my sudden, aggressive maneuver. Her nipple was hard between my lips, and I sucked and nibbled and swirled my tongue. "You delicious, naughty slut!"

I switched tits, engulfing the entirety of her nipple and areola. My fingers stroked her skin, tracing the lines of her ribs, then the curve of her pregnant belly. I skirted down her pelvis, into her groin, and stroked the edges of her vulva. She groaned again, hips undulating.

She was ready for my full apology.

I pressed my cheek between her breasts, sliding down across the gentle swell of her belly. Her scent engulfed my nose, strong and full of her need. I nestled between her thighs, staring in awe at the perfection of her pussy. Her lips were just slightly parted, revealing her pink, inner depths, while her clit peaked out of its hood like a shy flower opening for the sun.

"Oh, yes!" she moaned, hips bucking, when I drank her flower's nectar. "Apologize! Work that tongue in me! You fucking whore!"

I pushed my tongue in deep, sucking in her juices. She screamed, body quivering, as I brought her to orgasm after earth-shaking orgasm. I drank her nectar, sucked on her labia, shoved my fingers deep into her sheath, and nibbled on her clit. I did everything I could to show her the depths of my apology.

"You wonderful, dirty slut!" she moaned. "Eat me, whore! Oh, fuck! Keep making me cum!"

Her words were music to my ears. I was their slut. I lived to pleasure them. Her hands grasped my hair, pulling me tight against her pussy. She gasped and moaned, writhing against my lips. Her face twisted with passion, and her perky, freckled breasts jiggled as she heaved.

"Drink it!" she screamed.

Sharp, acrid urine flooded my mouth. I swallowed the nasty fluids streaming into my lips. Her hands held my face and forced me to drink her piss. It was so humiliating. My cunt let forth another fresh flood of juices that made the itch even more unbearable. I drank and drank; she must have downed a lot of water beforehand.

"Oh, fuck!" she groaned. "You dirty, nasty, pee slut! Oh, shit! Cumming! I'm cumming and pissing in your whore mouth!"

Spicy, sweet juices and piss flooded my mouth as she screamed and bucked, trying to drown me with shame and humiliation. I loved being her pee slut! The piss trickled to a few final squirts as she collapsed back on the bed. Her hands pushed me away, her pussy too sensitive. Panting, I sat on the edge of the bed, licking my lips. Pussy cream covered my cheeks and chin, running down to stain my blouse, and the acrid flavor of piss stained my lips. My own thighs were a flood of my passion, and I burned for a release.

"Get the hairbrush," she ordered after a moment, standing up and walking to a plush chair with a high back carved of dark mahogany. Her spanking chair. She sat down with grace, her wonderfully perky and freckled tits swaying almost hypnotically. My lips ached to engulf her dusky nipple.

I grabbed the hairbrush and walked to her. "Please discipline me for being such a naughty slut, Mistress," I cooed.

Smiling, she took it, and I draped myself across her lap like a good slut. My skirt lifted, cool air wafting between my thighs, bringing a minor amount of relief to the fire burning in my pussy.

"I am so sorry, Mistress," I moaned. "Please, spank me! Teach me my lesson."

"In time," she purred. "I'm admiring the beauty of your ass and your shaved cunt. You are absolutely drenched. I bet you can't wait to cum."

"I can't!" I moaned, then wiggled my ass, hoping to entice her.

"Not yet," she ordered.

I waited, squirming on her lap. My fingers itched to plunge between my thighs or to pinch my aching nipples until I screamed. Fuck, why won't she just start the spanking. I squeezed my thighs together. Please, please, please spank me. I can't take this—

Spank!

I jumped; pain stung me. I gasped, "One, thank you, Mistress!"

My ass burned. So wonderful. I had been naughty, and I earned the pleasure of my punishment. The second blow landed on my other cheek. Harder, stinging pain raced through me. I gasped my count, and the third followed and a fourth. I felt so helpless, like when I had been a little girl, and a not so little teenager, pulled over Daddy's lap. I missed him and all those wonderful times he crawled into my bed. Damn cancer!

Smack! The pain jarred me out of my memory.

"Five, thank you, Mistress!"

I loved it. Smack!

"Six, thank you, Mistress!"

My cunt ached. I writhed on her lap, my clit nudging her thigh. Smack!

"Seven, thank you, Mistress!"

I needed to cum. I needed to cum. Smack!

"Eight, thank you, Mistress!"

Oh, fuck, I need to cum so bad. I rubbed harder with my clit, humping her smooth thigh. Release! I need a fucking release! Smack!

"Nine, thank you, Mistress!"

My ass was completely on fire, and that just made the inferno between my thighs even more unbearable. My nipples were hard, rasping against my blouse, more fuel for my passion. Smack!

"Ten, thank you, Mistress!"

My voice was becoming hoarse with passion. I needed to cum! Smack!

"Eleven, thank you, Mistress!"

The door opened. "Well, well, well. If this isn't a lovely sight." I couldn't see Master, but I could feel his boyish grin.

"Isn't it?" Mistress asked, stroking my burning ass. Smack!

"Twelve, thank you, Mistress!"

"Her voice is becoming tiresome though. Why don't you help me out, hun?"

"Naughty filly!" he laughed.

"Horny stallion!" she giggled.

He moved closer. They kissed. Long and noisy, full of their love and passion. Master sat on the bed next to the chair, his strong hand grasped my hair, and yanked my head up. His cock was hard, beading with pre-cum, and hovered right before my lips; I ran my tongue across them in anticipation.

"Master, I'm so sorry!" I moaned.

"Good!" he grinned, his blue eyes burning with lust. Then he roughly shoved my head down, impaling my mouth on his cock.

Smack!

I could only moan around the shaft pistoning roughly into my mouth. Master fucked my face like a wild stallion. His cock shoved painfully down my throat as Mistress rained blow after blow upon my ass. God, I fucking needed to cum so bad. I was their toy, and they were using me to satisfy their own cravings.

I wouldn't have it any other way. Smack!

"Goddamn, Mare! Keep smacking her ass. Her throat constricts about my cock every time."

Smack!

"Like that?" Mistress asked.

"Yeah! Keep doing that, Mare!"

Smack!

"Fuck!" Master grunted. Smack! "Fuck, yeah! Keep sucking, slut! Apologize with your dirty mouth!" Smack! "It's all a filthy, dirty girl like you is good for!" Smack!

I groaned, throat tightening about his spearing cock. I was their filthy, dirty slut, and reveled in it! I humped faster against Mistress's thigh. I needed to cum so bad. I would have done anything to get my release. Master grunted faster and faster, both hands holding my head in place as he fucked my mouth with wild abadonment.

"Fucking slut!" he grunted. Smack! "Oh, fuck!"

"Cum..." Smack! "...in..." Smack! "...her..." Smack! "...naughty..." Smack! "...mouth..." Smack! "...Mark!" Smack!

He did. My mouth filled to the brim with his wonderful spunk. Thick and salty. I swallowed, as Mistress kept spanking me. I felt like such a dirty girl. I loved it! Master gave one last grunt as one last blast of cum filled my lips, then he let go of my head.

His cock popped out; I coughed, gasping for breath. A drop of cum fell onto the floor. What a waste. "Thank you, Master, for your cum."

"You're welcome. What do you say, Mare, has she apologized enough?"

Smack!

She landed that last blow right on my cunt. I screamed and exploded. I bucked and moaned and yelled my passion. My innards contracted, waves of electric fire rushed through me. I thrashed so hard I slid off her lap, and fell into a quivering ball on the floor.

I had finally cum, and it was glorious. Passion kept rolling through my body, crashing into the pain of my throbbing ass, and forming a monstrous storm of rapture. I quivered, trembled, and shook. I reveled in it. This was the sort of pleasure a woman could only experience when she gave in to her inner slut! When the pleasure receded, I lay almost in a stupor, a smile playing on my lips.

"My naughty filly!" groaned Master as my awareness of the world came slowly back.

The bedsprings squeaked; flesh slapped together.

"I love riding my horny stallion!"

I stood up on woozy legs. Mistress rode him hard. They gazed into each other's eyes, lost in their love and passion. I was merely their foreplay. And I wouldn't have it any other way! I strolled to the door, a smile painted on my face and fire burning on my ass.

I was their slut.

Violet and April waited in the main room of their suite, grins on their faces. Both were dressed as naughty schoolgirls: April in a blue-and-purple tartan skirt and Violet in a pink-and-black, and the naughty slut didn't even wear a top, just a matching tie dangling between her tiny tits reaching to the cute swell of her pregnant stomach.

"So are we still going out tonight?" April asked eagerly.

"Yeah?" muttered Violet. She didn't seem as enthusiastic as her girlfriend.

"Hell, yeah!" I couldn't wait to try out a 'cum-rum'. "I know just the bar!" I had spent the afternoon making phone calls, making sure the right people would be there.

When Master and Mistress were caught up with each other, a slut had to find other ways to amuse herself. I hooked an arm around each of them. We were going to have a lot of fun tonight!

---

The Devil's Pact Side-Story: Apirl's Cumbath

mypenname3000

Fantasy, Blowjob, Consensual Sex, Cum Swallowing, Exhibitionism, Female solo, Female/Female, Group Sex, Males / Females, Oral Sex

Introduction:

Lillian takes April and Violet out to a bar where the sluts will be the stars of a bukkake party!

The Devil's Pact Side-Story: April's Cumbath

Notes: This takes place during Chapter 43.

Friday, November 8th, 2013 – April Lovel – Tacoma, WA

I blinked, glancing at the digital clock displayed in the lower right corner of my laptop's screen. I had been writing for a solid hour, lost in creating my account, only slightly edited, of Master and Mistress's story. I was inspired by Vivian. She had written one book on what she had learned from Master and Mistress, watching from the outside and interviewing as many of their conquests as she could. The first Holy Book of our burgeoning religion.

But I wanted to write their story from the other sluts' and my intimate perspective.

I closed my laptop, padding towards the elevator. The Murano Hotel lobby was a pleasant place to write, with comfortable furniture and a crackling fire. And it was blessedly quiet. Since Master commandeered the entire hotel, only Master, us sluts, and his servants lived here. And they mostly hung out in the convention ballrooms that had been transformed into game rooms, stocked with video games and TV's, and other entertainments.

The lobby also had an adjacent restroom. That was very important. As my pregnancy developed, I found I had to use the restroom more and more often. I wasn't the only pregnant slut; my girlfriend Violet was also. I was carrying Master's child, and Violet was carrying either Master's or Mistress's child. We were both excited to find out which, our due dates only a few days apart in mid-April. I couldn't wait to hold my baby.

The elevator dinged, I headed upstairs. I pulled out a keycard and unlocked the door to Violet's room. "Hey, cutie," I announced, then blinked. Where was she? She had been here when I left.

I shrugged, and whipped out my laptop. I probably had a little more time, so I could get some writing done. Lillian was getting spanked right now, so she would undoubtedly be delayed by pleasuring Mistress—disciplining her sluts always made our Mistress so horny. No sense in wasting the time. I opened my file, and had just started typing when the electronic lock hummed and Violet walked in, naked and holding the cute negligee I had bought her last week.

She sat down next to me, kissed me on the cheek, and said, "We should get ready."

"Sure," I smiled, then gave her a peck on the lips. I tasted something spicy—pussy. "Umm, you've been fooling around with someone."

"Yeah," she shrugged. "Just a maid."

"I'm sorry I missed out," I pouted, then gave her another kiss, savoring that spicy flavor. "I love the taste of pussy. Maybe there's time to have a little fun."

"Maybe," Violet grinned. "I love it when you go down on me!"

That sounded like a wonderful idea. My girlfriend had the second-best-tasting pussy in the world, after Mistress. I knelt on the floor, the tight weave rough on my knees, and spread her thighs open like a book. Her pussy was glistening with juices, and looked as tight as a virgin's. I adjusted my glasses, then took a long, slow lick up her slit.

She moaned softly, "I love you."

Oh, what a sweetie. "I love you, too!"

Then I buried my face into her snatch and devoured her. She tasted wonderfully spicy. It was a slightly sweeter spice than the maid's pussy staining her lips, and far more delicious. I spread her tight labia open, and worked my finger deep into her. She leaned back, moaning my name and writhing her hips into my face.

"Oh, yes! Eat me! I'm going to cream your face!"

Wonderful! I loved making her cum, and let my tongue dig deep inside her. My finger found her tiny clit, pinching and rubbing. She jumped, tossing her head back. Her pigtails danced through the air, so cute and innocent. Her moans grew in pitch, and then she shuddered and screamed out her passion, flooding my lips with her spice.

"Good one?" I asked.

"Yeah," she panted. "We really should get ready though."

My pussy was horny, but I knew we'd be having plenty of fun at the bar.

We dressed in nearly-identical, naughty schoolgirl outfits. Lillian's idea. I wore a blue-and-purple tartan skirt that barely covered my ass and a low-cut, white blouse that was so thin my nipples were clear as day through it. Violet just went with a pink-and-black tie that was loose about her neck so it wouldn't hide her choker The tie matched her black tartan skirt, dangling between her immature breasts down to the soft curve of her pregnant belly. She looked so cute and yummy.

"Come on!" I eagerly said.

We headed upstairs to Master and Mistress's suite. The bodyguards, a pair of the new recruits, let us in. 49, a voluptuous African America, took the opportunity to pat my ass while her partner, a redhead called 50, pinched Violet's nipples. They may have been new guards, but they seemed to fit right in. Master had a very discerning eye, and only found the best women to serve him.

We didn't wait long on Lillian. She looked flushed and sweaty when she walked out of their bedroom, her hard nipples straining the white blouse that was tied just beneath her breasts, and a very short, red-and-black tartan skirt swirled about her thighs as she walked. She beamed at us, cum staining her lips and chin. She ran a hand through her black hair streaked with blue and purple highlights as she walked over to us. I sighed. I must be the only slut with such unmanageable hair. Mine was always bushy, but Master seemed to love it. So I guess it was okay.

"So are we still going out tonight?" I asked eagerly.

"Yeah?" muttered Violet. I glanced at her, and she smiled. It was nice of her to go out with me, even if she wasn't excited about it.

"Hell, yeah!" Lillian exclaimed with her usual peppiness. "I know just the bar!"

Lillian hooked an arm around both of us. I couldn't help licking at Master's drying cum on her chin. My tongue reached her mouth. The dirty slut had also been pleasuring Mistress, and I savored her spicy, sweet juices on my slut-sister's lips. Violet leaned in, and we shared a sloppy, three-way kiss, Lillian's lip piercing cold and hard against my mouth.

The black-haired slut laughed. "You both have been eating fish taco tonight!"

I laughed, but Violet frowned. "No. I had a hamburger for dinner."

"She means you've been eating pussy," I giggled. Violet had quite the sheltered life. Her mother was a very abusive woman, locking Violet in a room filled with heat lamps whenever she was bad. Violet had hinted to me that once she had been caught with another girl, and that had earned her a week locked in that room. She stayed Master's slut just to avoid going back to the horrible woman, while I had stayed because I had a schoolgirl crush on Master. I still did, but it had diminished a bit as Violet and I had become close. I would always love Master and Mistress, but it was Violet that made my heart beat excitedly now.

"Oh," Violet smiled fondly, "I did eat some yummy pussy."

"That's the best kind of pussy!" Lillian grinned.

We reached the elevator, heading down to the lobby and sharing kisses. Lillian squealed when Violet slapped her ass. My girlfriend shyly smiled, and said, "Just making sure you were properly spanked for your mean comment."

"Umm, I was properly spanked," Lillian purred. I could tell; her ass was cherry red.

The elevator dinged; the doors opened on the lobby. 51 stood at the doors, waiting. The Black bodyguard wore the traditional uniform: navy blue; short skirt; half-unbuttoned blouse that had slipped down to reveal a pink nipple; a thick, black gunbelt; gun; handcuffs; amulet, bronze, dangling between her small tits; and her choker, tight about her throat, engraved with 51.

"What are you three up to?" 51 yawned. She looked tired, working hard to keep Master and Mistress safe.

"Going out," Lillian grinned. "Want to come? I've arranged for a bunch of hot guys to bathe us in cum."

"Wait, what?" squeaked Violet. "I thought we were just going to the bar."

"Right, for some cum-rum," Lillian giggled, a wicked gleam in her dark eyes. "Well, virgin-cum-rums for them. Which is just cum, of course!"

"So what's this about a cum bath?"

"Haven't you ever wanted to be just absolutely drenched in cum?" Lillian asked. "To feel all that hot, sticky jizz running down your body?"

"No," Violet answered, and I shook my head. Though it did sound interesting.

"You're talking bukkake, right?" 51 asked.

"Well, well, well," grinned Lillian, nudging the Black bodyguard. "Do you want to get your slut on with us, 51?"

"No, thanks. My husband's expecting me."

Violet looked at me and mouthed 'bukkake'. I shrugged.

"Bring him along. We could use another Black guy with a big dick showering us in spunk!"

"I'm..." 51 yawned, "...too tired. Have fun."

Lillian shrugged, "Your loss."

51 pulled out her Nextel, the cell-phone-like radios the bodyguards used. "51 to control, who's on the duty roster for escorting three VIPs?"

"Squad F," a woman answered. I wasn't sure which bodyguard had answered; there were a hundred of them now.

"They'll be guarding Lillian, Violet, and April all night. Have an escort readied."

"Roger that, ma'am."

"Okay, I'm signing off," 51 said, punching the up button on the elevator.

"Have a good one, ma'am."

"You, too, 38."

It took about ten minutes for squad F to assemble our vehicles and escorts. Three black SUV's pulled up at the front of the hotel and the ten bodyguards of the squad formed up around us. They were commanded by 07, a tall, Black woman with her hair braided in tight cornrows. She was one of the women that had volunteered to serve Master after the Miracle, quitting her job as a police officer and traveling to Washington State to join up.

"So where are we going, miss?" 07 asked Lillian when we trooped out.

"The Lucky Cowgirl in Spaneway," Lillian answered. "It's a great bar, just the right sort of atmosphere for what I have planned."

"Which is a bukkake?" I asked, still not sure what that word meant.

07 snorted with laughter. "You girls are nasty."

"Umm, another bodyguard that's heard of it. You are all such sluts!" Lillian laughed. "Do you want to join in?"

"I'm not allowed to indulge on duty, miss," 07 answered. "You know that."

"Oh, how forgetful of me. Well, if you change your mind, we'll forget that you're on duty."

"I'd know," she flatly said. "We take our job very seriously."

We piled into the SUV, the middle one of three, and sped off. Police lights strobed on all three vehicles, letting people know to get out of our way. They took the left on 13th Street, heading down the hill towards the on-ramp to Highway 705. The SUV's raced onto the freeway, quickly merging onto I-5, and finally Highway 512, before we exited onto Pacific Avenue fifteen minutes later, heading south.

The entire time, Violet stared out the SUV's window. Finally, I couldn't take her silence anymore. "What is it?" I asked her, nuzzling my girlfriend.

She shrugged, "Just thinking about a problem."

"What?"

She glanced at me, then looked down at her hands. "It's nothing, April. I just don't know what to do."

"C'mon, you can tell me," I said, nudging her. "I love you."

Violet glanced at me, her lips working like she wanted to say something. "It's fine. Let's just have fun tonight, okay."

"You sure?"

She leaned against me and kissed me on the lips. "Yeah. There's no sense in ruining tonight with it."

"You'll tell me, right?"

"Yeah. I just need to find the right way."

I frowned at that, opening my mouth to press her, when the SUV pulled into a parking lot.

"We're here," Lillian said, clapping her hands in excitement. "This is going to be so much fun!"

A busty bodyguard, numbered 84, opened the SUV door and Violet slid out. I followed after her, and had my first look at the Lucky Cowgirl. It was a dark brown building with a riotous neon sign of a scantily-clad cowgirl: jean skirt, frilly blouse, cowboy boots, and a stetson hat perched on her head. The parking lot was large, but it was half-empty. That was strange since it was Friday night.

"Illness, the bar tender, owed me a favor," Lillian grinned, seeming to read my mind. "I once fucked him, so he was thrilled to close the bar for our private party. Plus the hundred grand I'm paying him. You should have seen the look on Rachel's face when I requisitioned it."

I giggled, imagining the brunette looking at the requisition form labeled 'for bukakke party'.

She pulled me to the doors; I was disappointed that they were the normal doors and not the double, half-doors you'd see saloons having in old Westerns. Music thumped inside the bar, screeching guitar, pumping bass, pounding drums—rock and roll. A group of men were lounging about, sipping beers, and I saw only two women. I recognized one, Jessie from the church, but the other was a Native American girl with cinnamon skin hanging on the arm of a skinny guy with a thin mustache and a weaselly face.

"Finally," grinned Kevin, his arms wrapped around Jessie. "I thought you girls weren't coming."

Lillian eyed the man. "Nice turnout. Thanks, Kevin!"

"I was happy to help," Kevin laughed. "Let me make some introductions." He clapped his hands on a nerdy-looking guy. "This is Glen, my former roommate, and that's Tommy, my other roommate." He pointed to a tall, even nerdier looking guy with glasses. Then he pointed at a middle-aged guy, "This is Oscar, my old boss, and next to him is Officer Chan, of Puyallup's finest." The Asian man smiled and waved at me. "Then back there is Eric. You probably know his ex-wife Beth." I did. So that was the man whose cock didn't satisfy her anymore after Master knocked her up. Eric was actually pretty buff and handsome. "The Black guy's Ernard. His wife was in the Jogging Club. And the skinny guy that brought his girlfriend to the party is George. And she's Hannah." The Native American girl grinned.

"I know you," I blurted out. "You were at the engagement orgy. You were a waitress with Xiu and Korina." And Fiona, but I didn't bring her up, the traitorous bitch! Both her and Thamina could go jump off a pier for siding with Lilith!

Hannah smiled. "We both were. George was a cook at the restaurant, and we got to know each other quite well that night!" George chuckled.

"Wow. I would love to interview you about what happened that night atop the Space Needle. I've gotten Xiu and Korina's version, but..."

"April, we're here to have fun, not discuss scholarship," Lillian butted in.

"Oh, right. Sorry."

"We'd love to talk to you," George answered. "Later."

"Well, let's see, did I miss anyone?" He noticed a fat, jolly looking fellow. "That's Jerry. He's a great cabby."

"With a great cock," giggled Jessie. "He gives me a free ride, and I give him a free suck."

"Don't forget me," a guy slouching in the back said. "I'm Joey."

"Right, that's Joey," Kevin muttered. "His girlfriend just broke up with him, and so I felt bad and let him come along."

"She didn't break up with me," Joey complained. "She just wanted to spend time with her other boyfriend."

"Yeah, her big-dicked, Black boyfriend she met during the Best Buy Incident," Kevin answered. "And whom she moved in with last week."

Joey glared at him. "Marcy'll be back."

Kevin shrugged. "Oh, and that's Illness behind the bar. Don't ask me why they call him that."

"Because I'm so ill," the scruffy guy with long, dirty blonde hair answered.

"You don't look sick," Violet pointed out.

"No, 'ill'. Like, cool."

"Oh, is that some old slang?"

"Fuck," Illness muttered.

"Anyway, let's get this party started," Lillian shouted, grabbing Violet and me and pulling us to the center of the room, where she knelt down. I glanced at her, then at Violet, who looked pale.

"What are we doing?" I asked.

"We're going to pleasure all these guys, and let them cum all over our nubile bodies," Lillian answered.

"That's bukkake?" I asked.

She nodded. "Wild, huh. The girls in those videos get literally drenched in cum. I can't wait. Now get down here."

"But, I'm not supposed to be with other men," Violet protested. "Master's orders."

"You're not fucking them. Just sucking them and jacking them off. No cock has to penetrated your pussy, now get down on your knees, slut."

Violet fell to her knees, obeying Lillian's authoritative command. Lillian glanced at me, her eyes hard, and I dropped to my knees like a good slut. The men started gathering around us, pants coming down, and a veritable forests of cocks hardened about us. Short cocks, fat cocks, dark cocks and pale ones. Some were circumcised, others were not, but they were all pointing at us, throbbing in anticipation.

Ernard's big cock loomed in front of me, and I opened my mouth and engulfed his Black prick. He groaned, gripping a handful of my bushy-brown hair, and fucked my mouth. "What a slut," he groaned. "She's so young. Only eighteen, I bet. Thank you, Mark."

"I know!" someone else chuckled. Out of the corner of my eye, a white cock loomed near my face. I reached up and grasped it with my hand, fisting him. It was awkward, but I kept at it. I found it so depraved to blow one man while jerking off another. My pussy moistened, leaking my juices down my thighs.

"She knows how to suck," Ernard grunted. "She's one of His sluts, after all."

"Our God's had His way with every one of her holes," the owner of the white cock laughed. "He's broken her in every way, I bet."

I'm glad I was living up to their expectations. I was a slut, and proud of it. I sucked harder, relaxing my throat and letting him shove that monster down my esophagus. He pumped faster, grunting with every thrust, his heavy, hairy balls slapping my chin. He fucked my mouth harder, gripping my head to keep me in place. He possessed me utterly, treating me like a dirty whore.

"Oh, fuck," the other man groaned, my fist sliding up and down on his prick. I think it was one of Kevin's friends. He had glasses, so that made him Tommy. "Oh, holy fuck!"

His cock throbbed, and then I could feel his cum rushing through his urethra before it sprayed my cheek and neck. Another blast landed on my blouse, soaking through and sticking the fabric to my tit. A final blast landed on my chest, trickling down between my breasts in warm, gooey rivulets. I let go of his cock, and another took its place. I kept jerking.

"Goddamn!" grunted Ernard, then he pulled out, his thick, dark cock bobbing in front of my face as he rapidly fisted himself. "Goddamn it!"

Cum fountained out, spraying my glasses and face. It was thick, runny, and there was a lot of it. A second and third blast splashed upon me, coating my entire face in creamy cum. I couldn't see; my glasses were stained with his sticky jizz. So I pulled them off with my free hand, and slowly licked them clean as Ernard looked down at me.

"What a dirty slut," he grunted as he watched my depraved, glass-cleaning performance, his cock rising. Did he take one of Sam's magical Viagra? "Clean my cum off, whore!

I was glad to, showing him just how much of a slut I was. His cum was runny, and rather sweet tasting. I had heard pineapple juice could do that. I licked my glasses until every last drop of cum was off the lenses, swallowing the wonderful stuff. The owner of the cock I was jerking—I couldn't tell who he was without my glasses, he was just a man-shaped blur—groaned, then hot jizz splashed on my face and neck.

I finally licked all the cum off my glasses and, after wiping my saliva off the lenses on my skirt, I put them back on. Finally able to see more than a foot again, I caught a glimpse of Violet and Lillian sharing a jizz-filled kiss, both their faces dripping with white cum. Lillian had a shot glass in one hand, the rim sticky. I guess she had her cum-rum. If I wasn't pregnant, I would have savored the thrill of cum and alcohol mixed together. I was about to join my girlfriend and Lillian and share a three-way, cummy kiss, when Oscar grabbed my hair and just thrust his cock into my mouth, pumping away.

He was treating me like such a whore, not even worth the time of talking to and asking permission. My fingers were messy with Ernard's cum, so I shoved them between my thighs and buried them deep inside my spongy cunt. I groaned around Oscar's dick, fingering my pussy as hard and fast as he fucked my sweet mouth.

"Fuck!" a man groaned nearby, and suddenly ropy cums lashed me, matting down my hair.

I reveled in the decadence of it, and came on my fingers, pleasure shuddering through me. More cum shot on me from another direction, splashing my neck and shoulder. I loved it, bucking and moaning around Oscar's cock. I couldn't wait for more cum to cool on my hot skin. I wanted to be showered in filth. It ran down my body, and I swiped my finger through a gob on my neck, and shoved the cum deep into my pregnant pussy, fingering myself to another orgasm.

"Yes!" Oscar groaned, pulling his cock out of my mouth.

"Cum on me!" I moaned, grinding the heel of my hand into my clit. "Baste me in your filth! Degrade me! I'm such a nasty whore!"

Oscar came, and so did Kevin, who stepped up on my left, and two jets of cum splashed on my face and neck. I leaned back, thrusting my tits forward, and let them shower me. Kevin's second blasted landed right between my tits, staining my blouse. My top was so wet with cum, my nipples were showing through the thin fabric.

I had a moment's respite, and surveyed the bar. Ernard had his hands wrapped around both of Violet's pigtails, violently fucking her mouth. I knew just how much my girlfriend loved to have her pigtails used as handlebars. Her entire top seemed drenched in cum, clinging to her small tits, and more cum had run down her back to stain her tartan skirt. Lillian had a cock in both hands, fisting them, and going back and forth, sucking each one.

My mouth watered, and George stepped up and shoved his cock in my mouth. I loved it. After he basted my body in his spunk, I found Violet and shoved a tongue deep into her mouth; she was full of cum. I savored my girlfriend's lips, so happy that we could share this depraved evening. Together, we sucked Kevin's cock, kissing each other around his tip while we fingered each other. She was tight and wet an,d when she came, her cunt bore down hard on my fingers. Her digits found all the right spots inside my pussy, and she had me cumming in record time. I moaned around Kevin's cock, and he erupted in my lips, pulling out so his second blast ran from from Violet's chin across to my cheek.

"You dirty sluts," giggled Lillian, crawling over to lick Kevin's, and quite a few other men's, cum off our face. "So how do you like a bukkake party?"

"It's fun," I giggled.

"Yeah," Violet nodded. "It's so filthy!"

"I know!" moaned Lillian. She glanced at the guys. "Looks like we still have some hard cocks to attend to, sluts!"

"Roger," I saluted, then crawled over to the jolly, fat cabby, and sucked his cock into my lips.

We were going to fuck and suck and drain their cocks dry until they collapsed from exhaustion and dehydration! Violet found herself a cock, and Lillian sucked Ernard's big dick into her lips. Another blast of cum landed in my hair. More cum slashed on my cheek. I cooed around the cabby's cock and it wasn't long before his load stained my tits. And another hard cock awaited my hungry lips!

Hours later, the three of us stumbled out of the bar, covered in drying cum; our hair mussed and tousled and matted with sticky jizz, and our clothing was stained and ruined from the amount of spunk that had been ejaculated on us. We walked arm-in-arm, happy and proud. The bodyguards of Squad F applauded and wolf-whistled when we stumbled out. All three of us bowed, reveling in the attention. We were sluts, and absolutely not ashamed of it.

"Next time you have a bukkake party," 07 grinned, "why don't you do it on our night off. Me and the girls would love to join in." The other members of squad F chimed in their agreement.

"Absolutely," Lillian declared, then suddenly threw her arms around 07 and gave the Black girl a cummy kiss. When they broke their embrace, 07's skimpy cop's uniform was covered in smears of white cum. "There, now you look more like a slut."

07 laughed.

I yawned, "Let's get home. I need to sleep."

"And a shower," Violet nodded, looking down at her bare tits covered in white, dried jizz.

"Hell, no!" Lillian grinned. "I'm sleeping in this mess!"

"You are such a slut," Violet laughed, and threw her arms around Lillian and kissed her.

"Thank you," Lillian answered when their kiss finished. "Do you forgive me for being such a cunt during the meeting, Violet?"

"How can I stay mad when you're the biggest slut in the world?"

As we drove back to Tacoma, my girlfriend's head on my lap, happiness filled me. I was so thrilled that I had been chosen by Master back in June. I had given him my virginity, and he gave me this wonderful family and my even more wonderful girlfriend. I think tomorrow I'd surprise Master with a wake-up blowjob to show him how much I appreciated him.

I loved licking his cum off my glasses!

---

The Devil's Pact Side-Story: Violet's Affair

mypenname3000

Fantasy, Anal, Cheating, Female/Female, Lesbian, Oral Sex, Pregnant

Introduction:

Violet's in love with another woman, and doesn't know how to end her relationship with her girlfriend without breaking April's heart.

Notes: This takes place during Chapter 43 and at the same time as Lillian Gets Spanked and April's Cumbath.

Friday, November 8th, 2013 – Violet Matheson – Tacoma, WA

"I'm going down to the lobby to do some writing," April smiled as she slipped her laptop into a satchel.

"Are we still going out with Lillian tonight?" I asked her. I lay stretched out on the bed and flipping through the latest copy of Seventeen.

I was reading the most fascinating article: "How to attract the Living God's Gaze." It was full of tips for young women on how to try and catch Master's attention at his public appearance. "Wear short skirts," the article read, "with thigh-high stockings held up by garters that peak out. And never panties. Our God wants a girl ready for Him to just lift her skirt and go to town on her pussy."

"Yeah!" April smiled. She was pretty and innocent, with her bushy, brown hair and glasses; a sexy nerd. My guilt returned, bubbling inside my stomach. "Doesn't it sound like fun?"

"Sure," I lied. I was getting good at lying to April. Going to a bar with Lillian, especially pregnant and unable to drink, didn't sound like fun.

April turned, her stomach gently swelling with Master's child, her large, dark nipples were hard. They were so big compared to her tiny breasts. Though hers were swelling with her pregnancy, while my A Cups hadn't changed a bit. That was fine, Master loved my tits. I was pregnant, too, though it could be Master's or Mistress's child.

"Love you," April smiled as she opened the door of my hotel room. We took turns sleeping in the other's room since we started dating last August.

"Love you, too," I answered automatically.

She smiled. Why did April have to be such a sweet girl?

The moment she was gone, I grabbed a sexy negligee, deep purple, that fell loosely about my girlish frame. My small, pink nipples were shadows through the sheer fabric, and my pregnant belly gently pressed against it. The hem ended just above my ass, displaying my tight pussy, shaved bare the way Master loved it. My brown hair was in pigtails, tied with purple ribbons, making me look even younger than my almost eighteen years.

I slipped out of my room, passing a pair of off-duty bodyguards who gave me appreciative nods. Master had commandeered the entirety of the Murano Hotel in downtown Tacoma, and it was filling up with maids and bodyguards and other servants, most of whom were hot, young women like me. I reached the elevator, pressed the button, and waited impatiently.

The elevator dinged, doors slid open. Finally! I impatiently hit the button for the fourteenth floor. I tapped my foot, growing impatient at the elevator. I normally loved them. I had met Master in one and he had rescued me from... No. Don't think about her. She can never imprison me again.

I put Mother out of my thoughts, walking briskly down the hall to 1431. Cindy's room. My heart picked up its beat, and my stomach tumbled into knots. I hoped my lover was free. I needed to be with her so bad. I really should break up with April, but I just couldn't stand to disappoint her because... The room, glaring lights so bright, so hot, Mother shouting her disappointment...

No! Don't think about that.

The door opened. Cindy's face lit up in a smile, driving my guilt and fear away. I loved her so much. I had thought I loved April, but it had just been puppy love. We were the two young, quiet sluts, so it had been only natural we spent time together. But I had confused my lust for actual love. When I met Cindy, I learned just what love is. Deep, consuming, warm. I didn't need to fuck Cindy, I just needed to be with her. I could be just as happy sitting in the same room with her and reading a book as I could mussing the sheets with her.

The moment I saw her the day of her interview, I knew I loved her.

She was naked, her blonde hair damp, and green eyes twinkling with mischievous. She was a year younger than me, though her breasts were slightly larger. Still A Cups, but she would have developed larger breasts if she hadn't been bound to Master. She smiled, braces glinting on her teeth. Master could have healed her, but I suspected Cindy would never be allowed to get rid of them. They made her look so cute and innocent, though it could be rough on the tongue when I frenched her.

"Violet!" she squealed, and threw her arms around me. I was taller, and she pulled my face down and kissed me on the mouth. "Umm, I love you so much."

I looked around, getting nervous. Someone could spot us. "Let's get inside."

"Don't you love me?" she asked, eyes hardening for a moment. She didn't like having to hide our relationship.

"I do love you," I whispered. Any second another maid could walk by, or a bodyguard, or one of the sluts. I didn't want April to know. Not until I found the right way to tell her it was over. "I love you so much!"

I clamped my mouth shut. I hadn't meant to yell that last part, but my feelings for her were hard to contain. I had almost called out her name last night in bed with April. Luckily, I had caught myself. My sudden, loud declaration made Cindy blush red, and she pulled me into the room.

"I could barely clean my Lord's room today," she sighed. "All I could think about was holding you." She gave me a kiss, wet and sweet. "And kissing you." Another kiss. "And touching you." Kiss.

"Me, too, Cindy." I stroked her cheek, pushing back a damp strand of gold.

She broke from the embrace and scampered to her bed, her cute ass jiggling. She grabbed a brown sack. "Look what I bought!"

I smiled. She pulled out a large, red dildo attached to a black harness. "Ohh! Do you want to fuck me, Cindy?"

"Absolutely, baby!"

"You got to butter me up first," I laughed. "I want to feel that tongue between my legs."

"Yum!" she grinned. She walked back, and reached out and pinched the fabric of my negligee. "This is cute. Did you buy it for me?"

"No," I answered. "April gave it to..."

"And you wore it here?" Cindy spat, her face twisting. "It's bad enough you won't break up with her, but you don't have to parade around here wearing her gifts!"

Shit! My heart beat. I disappointed her. The room... No. She wasn't Mother. "I'm sorry," tears welled at my eyes. "I just... It's so beautiful. I didn't think, Cindy. I didn't mean..." A hiccuping sob choked off my words. "I-I didn't mean to d-disappoint you."

"Oh, don't cry." Her eyes were watering up. "I'll start crying, too. I'm sorry. It's alright. I know whom you love."

She reached out and wiped my cheek.

I smiled. "You are such a wonderful girl. I'm thankful Willow brought us together."

"Do you think we would have met if it wasn't..."

"I do," I nodded. "Maybe in college, we would have met and fallen in love..." Mother would have been disappointed, like she had when she caught me with Summer... No. No. No. Mother isn't here.

I kissed her, probing my tongue into Cindy's sweet mouth. I didn't want to think of...unpleasant things. I wanted to enjoy my new life, and my love. Summer was gone. She had just been a passing fling anyways, like April. And Mother will never imprison me again.

Cindy tugged up the negligee, and I reluctantly broke the kiss. She tossed the scrap of cloth to the floor, her hands gently stroking the slight curve of my pregnant belly. Everyone loved to touch my belly. I carried a God's child within me.

My lover knelt down and kissed my bellybutton. "I can't wait to hold your child," she breathed. "The Divine grows within you. It's such a miracle!"

It was!

Then she bent lower and nuzzled between my thighs, giving me a quick lick. I shuddered. Her tongue was amazing, and her braces scraped almost painfully against my pussy, adding another wonderful sensation. I moaned, and fell back onto the bed.

"Ravish me!" I groaned. "Make me cum!"

"Only if you return the favor!" she grinned, stroking her tight slit.

"Nothing would make me happier!"

She jumped onto the bed, laughing as she bounced. Then she quickly straddled my face. Her pussy was waxed bare, and sealed as tight as a maiden's cunt. Her vulva was swollen red and dripping wet. I breathed in her spicy aroma, licking my lips. I couldn't wait any longer; I grabbed her ass, yanked her down, and buried my tongue inside her.

"Oh, baby!" she gasped. "Umm, I love your tongue!"

I answered with a moan, licking her tight flower. Her tongue wiggled inside of me, and we savored each other's flavor. I loved sixty-nining with my lover. We both were giving each other pleasure. It was magical.

Her fingers kneaded my ass, her finger creeping into my crack. I moaned as she teased my puckered asshole, anticipating the penetration. She didn't disappoint me. Her finger slid deep, greased by my juices, and I squeezed down around the pleasant intrusion. I moved my lips down and sucked in her hard clit. Cindy responded with a moan, so I followed up two fingers shoved deep into her cunt.

Her moan vibrated through my pussy. I sucked harder, hooking my finger and letting my fingernail lightly scrape against the inside of her sheath. I quested for just the right spot and...she bucked, exploding on my face when I grazed her G-spot.

I loved making her cum!

The only thing better was when she made me cum!

A second finger slid into my ass, reaming my quickly. Her braces rubbed through my pussy lips, while her tongue probed deep. She moaned and gasped, delightful pleasure vibrating through me. I tensed, that wonderful moment approaching. Her nose brushed my clit; I exploded.

It was wonderful!

I screamed her name, muffled by her twat. My body quavered like a bowl of jelly, madly convulsing beneath her. I had no control. I was lost to the delights she gave me. I gasped, breathing in her spice, and savored my cum.

"You popped off like a firework," she giggled, jumping up.

I sat up on my elbows, watching her ass as she struggled to pull on the strap-on. She adjusted the cinches, then turned around, displaying her fake cock as proud as any man. She stroked it, grinning at me, and asked, "What do you think?"

"My pussy's going to be begging for mercy!"

"Get on your knees, woman!" she growled, making her voice low. "I'm gonna fuck you into next Tuesday!"

I laughed, and got on my hands and knees, wagging my ass at her. "What are you waiting for, big boy? My little cunny needs a big, thick cock to make her howl!"

Cindy climbed onto the bed, the cold plastic nudging my asscheeks. She gave me a slap, then rubbed the tip through my wet pussy. "Here it comes, baby!" she grunted, making her voice as low and gravelly as she could.

My body shuddered as she rammed it in. "Oh, fuck!" I gasped. It was about as long as Master, but thicker. It felt wonderful! "Fuck me! Make me howl, stud!"

She smacked my ass, then leaned over me, pumping away. I grunted, pleasure tingling through my stretched cunt. She giggled, "What do we have here?" She grabbed my pigtails and yanked. "Handlebars!"

I felt like such a cheap slut; it was wonderful!

"Harder!" I moaned. "Oh, fuck me, stud!"

Her hips hunched faster, our groins smacking together. She grunted, the strap-on pressing back into her clit every time she thrust into my pussy. I squeezed the bedspread; it felt so amazing! That thick shaft spread me so wide open, almost painfully, and that made the pleasure even more intense. My cum was nearing; I slammed my hips back. So close.

She pulled out, leaving me filling so empty. So frustrated! I had to have her dido in me! Couldn't she see how horny I was? Why would she stop fucking me? "Don't stop! I need..."

She shoved it into my ass. I screamed. I felt stretched to my limits. She yanked back on my pigtails, grinning at me as she fucked me hard. She knew what I needed. I was a slut, and I needed to be treated like one. Even by her. So she used me, abused me, loved me.

"Fuck my ass!" I grunted. "Fuck my slutty, teenage ass! Oh, yes! Oh, fucking yes!"

"My little slut!" she grunted. "When They're not around, you're my little slut, right?"

"Yes!" I screamed. "I'm Master's slut, and Mistress's slut, and, lastly, I'm your slut!"

My orgasm was so strong. My ass squeezed down on the invading dildo. Cindy pulled my head back, kissed me, and moaned into my mouth. Her body shuddered against mine, her erect nipples rubbing against my back like a pair of hard marbles. We shared this wonderful, passionate moment, then collapsed.

She spooned me; the dildo still buried in my ass. My lover gently nuzzled at my neck, then mewled softly into my ear. We didn't speak, we just enjoyed the feel of each other. Her arms wrapped around me, clasping at my pregnant belly. I laid mine on top of hers, stroking her fingers, and dozed.

It was perfect.

But I had to leave. April was waiting.

"Don't go," she whispered as I pulled away. "Stay with me tonight."

"I have to," I answered. "April wants to go out. And she promised Lillian that we'd go."

Her face twisted in disappointment. The room... No! Cindy wasn't my mother. "When are you breaking up with her?"

"I don't want to hurt her," I answered. "I just need to..."

"I can't do this forever," Cindy interrupted. "I want everyone to know about us. I don't want to hide our love."

"I don't either." I kissed her hands. I couldn't disappoint April. And I couldn't disappoint Cindy. I had to do something; when you disappointed someone... hot lamps, so bright, trapped in that room... No! "Just be patient, please."

"Fine," she huffed.

"I love you." I sighed in relief, mollifying her disappointment. I bent over and kissed her on the lips.

"Love you, too."

I grabbed my negligee and walked out of the room naked. April was waiting in my room, typing away on her laptop. I had a small suite, with a living room, and April perched on a cream love seat. I walked over, sat next to her, and kissed her cheek. Why do I keep doing this?

"We should get ready," I said.

"Sure," she smiled, then gave me a peck on the lips. "Umm, you've been fooling around with someone."

With my lover. "Yeah. Just a maid."

"I'm sorry I missed out," April pouted, then gave me another kiss. "I love the taste of pussy. Maybe there's time to have a little fun."

"Maybe," I grinned. "I love it when you go down on me!"

Why do I keep saying these things? But I couldn't disappoint April. I was trapped. She spread my thighs, her glasses flashing, then buried her face into my pussy. I closed my eyes, picturing Cindy between my legs, and let out a soft moan.

"I love you..." Cindy.

---

The Devil's Pact Chapter 44: The Whore's Daughters

mypenname3000

Fantasy, Violence

Introduction:

Mark and Mary lead the attack on Lilith's stronghold.

The first crisis to challenge the Tyrants was the demoness Lilith. The Whore of Babylon had made her nest in the City of Seattle, breeding scores of her foul children. They were the monsters of old that had haunted mankind before the Flood. Our stories and legends abound with the memories of these vile and loathsome creatures, and though their names have been lost to modern memory, and it has been eons since they stalked the world, mankind's primal fear of them has never diminished: Thu'ban, Lamia, Tzavua, Alukah, Dever, Lamassu, Re'em, Mazikeen, Dabbat, Tzelanit, Agas, Pazuzu, Tir, Manticore, Dimme.

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

Tuesday, November 12th, 2013 – Lana Paquet-Holub – Seattle, WA

"They are here," Lilith calmly told me as Zuzu's screeching howl faded away. "You know what to do?"

Ice water flowed through my veins. Mark was here! "I...yes," I stammered, trying to focus. I had a job to do. I had to make the portal.

Gunfire erupted outside; I jumped. "Go!" Lilith shouted.

I turned and ran, racing through the halls past the panicked women and their monstrous daughters. "To the basement!" I shouted at them, reminding them what to do. "Clear the damned way!" I roared at a group huddled in the hallway. "And follow me!"

Many of Lilith's children were still too young to fight, the latest batch only born yesterday. More than a hundred of them, the largest group yet birthed, but Mark's attack came too soon. We just needed another day or two, and maybe we would have had a chance to hold the warehouse. I pushed through the crowd, forcing my way down the last stairs into the musty basement.

"Chantelle!" I shouted in relief.

My wife smiled at me as she drew a portal with a bronze knife, struggling to saw open the Veil. I picked up one of the bronze knives laid out on the table, and started cutting my own portal open. Thamina arrived a minute later, pushing through the growing crowd of frightened women. More gunfire and loud roars could be heard outside.

"Hurry!" I shouted at Thamina as she took up a bronze knife. There were only three of us here that could create portals. As Thamina began to draw hers, I finished mine, a hole in the fabric of reality opening into the misty Shadows. "Stay close!" I yelled as women and young monsters pushed through.

Chantelle finished drawing her portal at the same time as Thamina. My wife was always so slow at it for some reason. We were fleeing to Africa, to a tiny village in the Congo where more of Lilith's daughters waited to be born. It was so galling. There were five villages in the Congo, nearly a thousand women just days away from birthing Lilith an army.

We were so damned close!

Fiona Cavanagh

My phone alarm went off, beeping incessantly and dragging me up from the depths of sleep.

"Fuck," I muttered, reaching my phone and swiping the alarm off. 4:30 AM. Too fucking early. This was the third time I had to wake-up and check on Mayor Erikson. He should still be asleep; he never caused any problems. He was too far under Lamia's spell to resist at this point.

Lilith wanted him watched. She didn't believe in leaving things to chance. I stood up, stretched, and padded out into the hallways. My feet slapped on the hardwood floor, and I scratched an itch on my side. I reached his bedroom, opened the door and saw the Mayor sleeping peacefully alone. I stifled a yawn, and turned to stumbled back to my room and get another hour or so of blessed sleep.

I froze when a splintering crash echoed through the house. Panic gripped my mind. It was only when the soldier threw me to the floor and put his boot on my back that I finally was able to think. Then it was too late. I had been captured, and terror squeezed my heart with a powerful fist until I was sure my poor organ would be crushed to a pulp. My greatest fear had happened.

I was at Mark's mercy again.

Mark Glassner

The monster, Lilith's daughter, fell from the sky, landing amidst the Rangers and bowling them over. She was big, thickly muscled, and bullish. Red-feathered wings folded almost gracefully behind the monstrosity's back. Her foot lashed out, slamming into a Ranger's chest. With a sickening crunch, he toppled backwards, and flopped like a fish on the deck of a boat.

"Fuck!" I shouted. "Fire! Fire, damn you!"

The Rangers' training took over; they fired their M16s at the monster. Red sprouted about the bullish woman from the bullet wounds. For a moment, the brute looked like she could take the punishment, the bullets only minor irritation. And maybe only a few were, but as she stepped forward, dozens and dozens pricked her skin. She staggered, the little wounds adding up, and collapsed into a great heap.

I glanced back at Mary, her face white with shock.

"Keller, Baxter, breach that door!" the lieutenant barked. "Don't just stand around with your dicks in your hand! Move, Rangers!"

Two Rangers blinked, shaking off their shock, and sprinted for the door. They were followed by four others. One pulled out a breaching charge, a rectangle made of duct tape and plastic explosives, and was about to slap it on the door, when the entire metal wall of the warehouse exploded outwards. The Ranger with the explosives was slammed to the ground beneath twisted aluminum siding. A hulking woman, ten feet tall, strode through the carnage, a thick piece of lumber clutched in one hand like a club.

Keller dived to the ground as she swung the club at him. I rushed forward, summoning my celestial blade. Gunfire erupted in the night as other monsters joined the fray, pouring out of the hole. My blood pumped wildly through my veins as I raised my sword to hack at the legs of the giantess. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion; she turned, her club swinging in a deadly, quick arc right at my chest.

Oh shit! How did she swing it that fast?

I tried to stop, digging my feet into the damp asphalt. I slid, my momentum carrying me right into the club. The wood slammed into my breastplate, snapping. I flew back in a spray of splinters, landing heavily and rolling to a stop. I coughed, struggling to catch my breath.

"Mark!" the giantess roared, a deep bass that somehow was feminine as it rattled my skull. She threw down the ruined stump of her club. "Mother will love me the most if I bring her your head!" Her hands clenched; I swallowed, struggling to stand. I could almost feel that monstrous hand about my throat, squeezing until my head popped off.

Bullets struck her; small, red wounds appeared. The Rangers may as well have been firing paintballs, because the hulking giantess didn't even seem to feel them. She threw one Ranger aside as he tried to stab her with a knife, his body crashing into a dumpster with a meaty crunch. She stomped towards me as I struggled to rise. Someone stepped before me, facing the giantess as fierce as a tiger protecting her cub, wreathed in bright fire.

Mary.

"That's my husband, bitch!" she snarled.

The flames that danced upon Mary rushed to her fist, and she threw her arm like she was throwing a baseball. The giantess screamed in pain as the ball of fire left a smoking hole in her breast. The monster stood dumbfounded for a moment, then slowly, like a tree snapping before the a powerful wind, toppled backwards, landing with a resounding crash.

"Mother," she croaked, her arm reaching into the air before she shuddered and went limp.

"You okay, Mark?" Mary asked, bending over.

"Yeah," I wheezed, and Mary helped pull me to my feet.

Monsters were attacking the Rangers from all sides. A woman whose every strand of hair seemed a different hue, whipped it around, the hair slashing in deadly arcs at the Rangers. Another monster had one normal eye and one that bulged yellow, and fired some sort of energy that knocked a Ranger off his feet. A grenade landed at the yellow-eyed monster's feet, detonating and tearing her body apart. A sinuous woman, completely hairless, somehow dodged the gunfire as she rushed forward, a forked tongue flicking from her lips.

"Damn," I muttered, struggling to think what to do. "How did you throw the fire?"

"I don't know, I just did!" Mary yelled. "Summon the dead, Mark!" Then she sent a gust of wind at the serpent-woman. The monster couldn't dodge the wind, and went tumbling hard into the side of the building. The serpent writhed, and righted itself.

"Tsamalev!" I cried.

Silver mist sprung up, swirling into sixteen figures. Chasity, Karen, and the dead bodyguards. Even in death they served us. They appeared clad in shining, silver armor and wielding silvered weapons. Some had swords, others guns; excited grins graced their beautiful faces.

"Master!" Chasity greeted with a bow, her blue eyes twinkling with excitement, before she turned and threw herself into the fray. A silver-clad warrior, a Valkyrie, her blonde hair streaming behind her as she led her sisters into battle.

I was right on her heels. I could feel the drain of the summoning spell, so I tapped all the souls bound to me, sharing the load between dozens and dozens of people. My golden sword flashed, and I severed the rainbow-haired monster's head, and led the counterattack on the serpent woman. Rangers followed, firing at the sinuous woman.

She hissed at me, twisting her body to avoid the gunshots, and launched herself at me. I set my shoulder, and barreled into her chest. Her legs wrapped around my body like a coiled serpent, squeezing me impossibly hard; my armor cracked beneath her constricting grip. I drew on Molech's flames, and the air filled with the reek of sizzling flesh. The serpent-woman hissed in pain, and fell to the ground a smoking ruin.

Mary sent another monster tumbling with a blast of wind at the creature's feet; three Rangers fell on the beast with flashing knives. I glanced around, looking for the next monster to fight. The ghosts were streaming into the warehouse, pursuing Lilith's children as they retreated. Only half of the Rangers were still standing; the other half lay dead or dying on the street.

"Go!" Mary shouted, bending down beside a fallen Ranger. "I'll take care of the wounded!"

"You were magnificent!" I shouted, before leading my remaining men into the gaping hole the giantess made in the warehouse.

Makeshift walls of plywood covered in red felt formed a hallway that led off in both directions. Inhuman roars and growls echoed from all directions, and muffled gunfire came from the other three groups of Rangers. The building trembled and creaked, like it protested the violence happening around it. A clapping boom rattled the floor, bringing more groaning protests from the building's metal frame.

"Chasity!" I shouted as I surveyed the warehouse.

"Master," she answered, stepping through a wall. "This place is a warren."

"Where is Lilith?"

"Basement," Chasity reported. "63 and 01 were unsummoned down there. 30 and I were forced to retreat. There's a strong group of her daughters guarding three portals that her followers are fleeing through."

"Fuck! Into the Shadow?"

She nodded.

"Which way?" I asked.

Chasity pointed to her right when the shadows behind her suddenly moved. A shaft of darkness formed into a spear, and pierced Chasity's chest. She gave a startled blink, then dissolved into silvery mist, her soul sent back to the Abyss.

For a moment, everything was still as the Rangers and I gaped at the moving shadow. Then the hallway filled with lancing shadows. They came from every direction, stabbing and slicing. One knifed at me; I turned, and it scraped across my breastplate, leaving gouges in the metal. The shadow kept striking forward, and struck a Ranger behind me, slicing through his body armor like it was wax paper; he fell in a lifeless heap to the ground.

I jumped back as the shadows in the hallway came alive. Soldiers fired blindly as the darkness slashed at them. Every shadow could suddenly become lethal, slicing at you, even the one you cast. I dodged another shadow as a blade of umber went through the rifle and arm of a Ranger, severing both as easily as a scissor cutting paper. My men were being cut down by these fucking shadows! I fought through the panic, whirling to dodge attacks, and looked in vain for the source of the attack.

A knife of shadows arced at my face. I pivoted, and slashed a black tendril with my golden blade. White light flashed, briefly revealing a small woman crouching in a corner, skin black as midnight, flinching in pain.

"There!" I barked, pointing at the corner. "Everything you got!"

The shadows convulsed and then snapped back to normal as automatic fire raked the corner. The midnight-skinned monster fell forward in a pool of inky blood. No-one spoke, except the man clutching his severed arm. Everyone just stared in horror at the monster. I could see the fear in their eyes. How could regular men fight a being that used the very shadows they cast as weapons?

I bent down next to the wounded Ranger, a scarlet light enveloping him as I healed him. When the scarlet faded the solder clutched at his newly grown arm, staring in amazement. "Thank you, my Lord!" he gasped, flexing his fingers and staring at his bare arm, his sleeve ending where the shadow had sliced through it. I healed another Ranger who still lived, but the others had bled out.

"My Lord!" a man yelled, and three more Rangers ran up, battered and singed.

"Southeast corner?" I asked.

"Yes, we're the only survivors," he gasped. Only three out of thirty-three survived? Fuck! "There's this thing breathing fire and..."

Gunshots cracked nearby, echoing down from where the new soldiers came from. Two of the ghosts were firing down the hallway, fiery-red light bathing their silver armor. Black smoke rolled around the top of the hallway, and billowed out of the massive hole the giantess had left. Yellow-orange fire engulfed the two ghosts; the summoning failed, and the two ghosts were sent back to the Abyss.

"Fuck!" someone cursed.

*Mark, the building's on fire! Get out of there!* Mary's panicked thought screamed in my mind.

Flames licked at the temporary walls, greedily devouring the felt and plywood like a pig at the trough, voracious and indiscriminate about what it ate. I coughed, the smoke stinging my eyes. "The basement!" I yelled. "That way!"

"Shit! Yes, sir!" a Ranger agreed, and the ten or so soldiers raced behind him.

A woman strode around the corner, the flames harmlessly caressing her legs, like cats rubbing affectionately against their mistress's legs. Her dark skin glowed orange in the firelight. There was no hair on her body, her head smooth and round, exotically beautiful, and her eyes glowed gold, slitted like a cat's.

"Mark Glassner," she hissed, mouth full of pointed teeth; smoke issued from her mouth and nostrils, and flames burned down her gullet. A smile creased her blackened lips. "You shall burn in fires so hot your flesh shall melt and your bones crack, and I shall suck the marrow from them."

She inhaled deeply.

Behind me, the soldiers were racing down the hall. I had to stop her. I had to protect my men; I had led them into this mess. I owed them. This was my responsibility; I had made a choice that night in June. I made a Pact with the Devil, and all of this was the fallout. I gripped my sword, swallowed my fear, and stared down this fire-breathing she-beast.

She exhaled pure fire, the air dancing wildly ahead of the blistering heat.

I summoned Molech's flames, armoring myself in my own fire, and rushed into the inferno. Orange, red, and yellow engulfed me; a crackling roar filled my ears. Her inferno pressed against my fire, slowly overwhelming my protection. Every second it grew hotter and hotter; my skin felt raw, peeling like old paint exposed to the sun for years. I kept running. I couldn't stop. I had to reach the monster before her flames overcame mine.

And then the flames were gone; I could see again. She was two steps away, her golden eyes widening in stunned surprise. First step; she inhaled. Molech's flames flickered feebly on my skin, my protection about to die out. Second step; her dark arm raised up to ward my slicing sword. I swung; a stream of red flame exhaled from her mouth; my sword cleaved through her arm, and down into her chest.

I reeled back as her last blast of fire caught me in the face, and I landed hard on my side. Pain burned on the left side of my head. I breathed in and my lungs screamed in agony. I must have inhaled some flames. Goddamn it burned!

"Master!" a woman cried out; cold hands grabbed me.

"Karen," I groaned at her concerned face, fighting to think past the burning pain.

"You need to get out of here, Master!" she cried, bending down to help me stand up.

Fire consumed the entire hallway; black smoke ran thick along the ceiling, undulating like waves rippling the surface of a pool of oil. Every breath I took was full of smoke, and the pain in my lungs threatened to topple me. There was a loud crash as a flaming support fell through the hallway. Fear beat in my chest. I couldn't tell which way to go, the smoke was so thick.

"Basement," I croaked. I had to catch Lilith.

Karen led the way, unaffected by the smoke. I gagged and coughed, struggling to breath as the ghost led me through the inferno. I stumbled, tripping over debris. My face felt like it was still on fire, still slowly, and painfully, being consumed. Was this what Hell would feel like? My nerves screamed in agony, and every time I grunted the flesh cracked like old leather. Finally Karen brought me to metal stairs; cold air rushed up from the basement.

It was sweet and clean. And so wonderfully cool!

"Shoot her!" a muffled voice yelled as we descended the stairs and gunshots fired. Who was that? The pain made it hard to think. "C'mon, Rangers! Get your shit together and hit the bitch!"

Right, the men I had sent down to the basement. I stumbled faster down the stairs, the pain fading as adrenaline poured into me. The Gift supplied a surge of energy that kept my battered body moving. At the base of the stairs a fire door was propped open, and lights flooded the dark stairwell from a room made of cinder-block walls.

It was chaos in there. The ten Rangers were firing at a fierce, leonine woman as she nimbly twisted around their bullets. She spat; something black streaked across the room, striking an Asian soldier in the throat. A black spine, like a porcupine's, jutted from his neck. He fell to the ground convulsing and frothing at the mouth.

Beyond the leonine woman, Lilith and Lana stood before a portal that opened into the mists of the Shadow, urging a small group of children – no, too many of those children looked abnormal; young monsters, Lilith's spawn – and women through the hole into the Shadows. The Demoness looked as beautiful as ever, her silver hair falling in a mussed tumble about her large, perfect breasts that seemed to defy gravity.

"Lilith!" I roared, ignoring the pain in my face, the feeling of burned flesh cracking. White-hot hatred consumed my mind. She killed my Karen. She had to die! My anger drove all other considerations from my mind.

Fuck the consequences!

Lilith turned to face me, her sneer vanishing as I sprinted across the basement. I had a clear shot at her. My blood pounded through me, an incessant, rage-filled beat demanding that I cut the bitch in half. I hungered to see her blood drip from my sword. I bellowed out a primal scream, my battle-cry. Fear paled the Demoness's face. She turned, grasping a woman and throwing her to the ground in her haste to reach the portal.

Exultation soared through me. Lilith was too far from the portal. She reacted too late, and I moved too fast, the Gift and adrenaline giving me a burst of speed. Nothing could stop me. I would avenge Karen, and rescue Lana and Chantelle from her foul grasp. I raised my sword above my head, Lilith within my reach. Nothing could stop me from cutting the bitch from stem to stern.

Except Karen.

"No, Master!" she cried, grasping my hands, halting my sword before it could find Lilith's flesh.

Lilith fled through the portal.

"No!" I roared, twisting about to stare at Karen. "Why? She killed you! Why did you save her?"

"A darkness comes," she whispered, staring at me with her gray eyes. I flinched beneath the weight of her words.

A darkness? Lucifer. I almost summoned the Devil before we were ready. I paled, my knees suddenly week, the pain of my burned flesh crashing into me, and I stumbled. Everything would have been ruined by my rage. Everything.

"Thank you," I whispered and she smiled at me.

"Cora!" Lana shouted; the leonine woman barreled past me before I could react, and swing my sword. She scooped up Lana in her arms, and leapt through the portal. It wavered, like a mirage, then vanished.

There was a loud groan and then crashing noise above shook the building. The warehouse was collapsing as the fire consumed it. I pulled out my knife and begin carving our escape into the air as I released the summons. Karen smiled at me before she melted into mist. I sawed faster at the Veil, struggling to open the portal before the entire building came down on our heads.

Mary Glassner

I could only watch in horror as the warehouse was consumed by flames. The fire was greedy, and quickly devoured the structure in minutes. The fire seemed to delight in the destruction it caused; an insane glee that grew and grew as more and more of the building was engulfed by its tendrils. Red and orange danced in the night, sending cackling roars and popping laughs into the night sky.

The surviving Rangers were gathered around me. Mark was still inside; my heart clutched in my throat. With a mighty groan, half the roof caved in, sending fiery sparks raining into the night air. No!

*Get out, Mark!* I frantically sent. *Please, please! The warehouse is about to collapse!*

*Working on it* Mark sent back.

I pulled out my silver locket from beneath the stab vest, clutching the heart desperately in my fist. The building creaked ominously, a shuddering moan growing louder and louder as it was consumed by the inferno. There was one, loud snap and it all came crashing down, flames surging up into the sky and a hot wind slamming into me. I flinched before the heat, my auburn hair whipping about my head.

Oh God!

It was only rubble. Flaming, twisted rubble. No longer a building. No-one could have survived that. Tears ran down my warm cheeks. There was no way Mark could have survived the collapse. He was crushed to death, buried in fiery debris. My knees gave out, and I collapsed into a ruin on the street, sobs wracking my body.

"Oh, Mark!" I wailed.

"Yeah, Mare?" Mark croaked behind me.

I spun; there was my husband stumbling out of a portal from the Shadows, followed by eight shaken Rangers. Mark looked like hell, his face red from a terrible burn, and half his head burned clean of hair. He stumbled forward and I stood up and caught him, helping him sink to the ground. His armor disintegrated into golden motes about me.

"Oh, Mark," I gasped in horror.

"She got away," he groaned bitterly.

"That's okay," I whispered, and healed him.

He grinned at me when the scarlet light faded, his face healed, and I couldn't help but giggle nervously at his missing hair. He frowned, and I ran my finger along the swath of bare scalp where his hair had burned away.

"You need a haircut," I smiled.

Laughing, he hugged me to him, pulling me onto his lap, and I kissed him. All the scared, excited energy exploding out of me as our lips mashed passionately together. I was telling Mark the truth earlier when I said it was exciting watching him fight. He was amazing as he threw himself into the battle, and my adrenaline and joy stoked my passions. Our kiss would have led to us fucking each other's brains out if a moan of pain hadn't reached my ears.

Breaking the kiss, I said, "There are still wounded that need our help."

"What?" he asked, passion still filling his eyes. "Oh, yes. Of course."

I climbed off my husband, and we set about healing the Rangers who fought and bled and died for us. We led 132 soldiers when we attacked the warehouse, an entire company. Only thirty-five were were still combat ready, sustaining no or only minor injuries. Forty-eight were seriously or critically injured, and forty-nine had died. We killed fourteen monsters – most of those were killed by Mark, or with our help – and another six had been driven off.

It was sobering to learn just how lethal Lilith's daughters were.

As we healed the wounded, a Stryker rolled up, and an officer – he had an eagle on his epaulets, so I think that made him a colonel – walked over to us, followed by a group of soldiers. "My Lords," he saluted. "We captured a prisoner at the Mayor's house."

I turned, and saw strawberry-blonde Fiona glowering at me, hands bound behind her back. "Lilith will defeat you, tyrants!" she spat at us, and I flinched at the hatred in her eyes. Her aura was red, a Warlock's aura. She'd made a Pact with Lilith.

It broke my heart. I still cared for Fiona. But we deserved her hatred—we had forced her to be our whore.

Lilith

I was still shaking after my brush with death.

The memory of Mark charging me in his angelic armor, that terrible, gleaming sword held high and thirsting for my powers, filled my mind with quacking fear. I tried to shrug it off, reminding myself that I was a Goddess, and he was only a slug, a worm, a piece of filth to be scraped off my sandals after I crushed him beneath my heel. But he had a Priest's Sword, and he had come within heartbeats of slaying my vessel.

I could not afford to die! I could not afford to be cast back into the Abyss. Bereft of my powers.

I shuddered again.

Sent back with no powers like Molech had been.

I could feel Molech's power in Mark when he charged me with that damned weapon. He had the Gift, and any demons felled by his blade would be bereft of all the power they had accumulated, before their souls would be cast back into the Abyss. You'd be as weak as any newly-dead human, left to the mercy of all the lesser demons you had trodden upon.

It would be decidedly unpleasant. A grin split my lips; Molech must be learning that lesson right now. All those he tortured over the eons would be more than glad to share their affections with the former Demon Prince.

Then I froze, realizing that Mark had Molech's powers. Instead of just dissipating them, Mark had instead absorbed them. How? Is this a side-effect of him being a Shaman? Mark wasn't just a Priest, he was also a Warlock, and that always caused unanticipated effects.

"Mother, we're ready," Tir said, interrupting my thoughts.

I glanced at my daughter, her head cocked to the side like a curious bird, her sapphire eyes wide and shining. She perched at the edge of the Cedar Creek Watershed next to her birth-mother, the dusky-skinned Thamina. She looked sick with worry for her wife. Fiona was either dead or captured, otherwise she would have rendezvoused with them. Beyond Thamina crouched another of my daughters. Vera was sickly-looking, with paper-thin skin.

"Begin," I ordered.

Tir vomited something black into the watershed, while Vera opened her wrist and thick, clumpy blood oozed out into the water. Both of my daughters could spread disease, and the pair had been working on this plague for weeks. The Cedar Creek Watershed provided the majority of the water to the city of Seattle. In just a few hours, half the city would be infected.

Mark may have driven me from my demesne, but I would reclaim it!

"How potent is it?" I asked Tir.

"Mother, we did not have time to finish it," Tir hedged. "It's highly communicable, and should kill roughly 33% of the men infected."

I smiled, staring off at the distant city of Seattle. Soft light bathed the city as the sun rose over the Cascade Mountains behind us. "That's more than enough to distract Mark."

To be continued...

---

The Devil's Pact Chapter 45: Wormwood

mypenname3000

Fantasy, Anal, Ass to mouth, Blowjob, Cum Swallowing, Lesbian, Male/Female, Males / Female, Mind Control, Oral Sex, Pregnant, Wife

Introduction:

Lilith's plague strikes Seattle.

We had been in San Francisco for a week, spreading the Holy Word, when Wormwood erupted. Brian fell ill, and a great fear clutched my heart. The hospitals had been overwhelmed and I could only sit next to my husband and pray. I furiously prayed to our Living Gods, over and over until my sex grew sore with the ferocity of my devotions. On the third night, the God appeared in a vision before me, glowing like the sun. He took me in the vision, pleasure suffusing my entire being. "All will be well, my slut," he had proclaimed as my passion overcame me. "Your faith has been rewarded." The next morning, Brian's fever lifted.

–Second Missionaries 14:01-03

Tuesday, November 12th, 2013 – Mark Glassner – City Hall, Seattle

I found Mary in the mayor's office, sitting on the edge of his desk. Mayor Erikson appeared to have been enthralled by Lamia – who was either Lilith or one of her daughters – and I left the man calling pathetically for, "My sweet Lamy!" with the soldiers downstairs. Mary would have to fix him with her Gift later.

My wife still wore her black fatigues, though she took off the stab vest. Underneath the vest she wore a tight, black halter top that molded to her perky breasts and slightly round stomach. She was just starting to show her pregnancy. Her auburn hair was pulled into a ponytail, and she looked fetching as the rising sun streamed in through the window behind her.

"Mark," she purred. "I believe I promised to fuck your brains out?"

I grinned, my cock hard. The fight in the warehouse had been terrifying, but afterward I felt so alive. And I wanted nothing more than to prove how alive I was by fucking my wife. I sauntered to her and she slid off the desk. Man, she looked sexy in her fatigues, like an amazon.

She kissed me with passion, pressing her body to me, and shoved her tongue deep into my mouth. "Fuck me," she hissed, grinding her crotch into my hard cock. "God, I need it so bad!"

I spun her about, bent my wife over the desk. She pushed the computer monitor and keyboard to the side, and they crashed to the floor. I squeezed her ass through the fatigues, then ripped them off her ass along with the sky-blue boy-shorts she wore underneath. Her cunt was wet, waxed bare, and I whipped my cock out and shoved it in.

"Fuck, that's nice!" I moaned as I pounded her pussy.

"Yes, yes!" she cried, writhing on the desk. "Take me, stallion!"

The soldiers guarding the door were sure to hear us; that just made it hotter. I buried my shaft into my wife's tight hole over and over. The desk rattled and slid on the beige carpet. Mary's freckled ass jiggled every time I bottomed out in her cunt; the cheeks were plump, inviting, and I smacked my hand down on her ass.

"Ohh, spank my ass!" Mary groaned.

I slapped her again, leaving a red hand-print. Then I grabbed her auburn ponytail and yanked her head back. I usually wasn't this rough with her, but after the fight, we both were boiling over with energy that needed a release.

I pulled her head up, and whispered in her ear, "You like this? You like it when I fuck you hard?"

"Yes, yes!" she cried out, her green eyes lidded with lust as she looked over her shoulder at me. "Fuck me, stud! Make me howl in pleasure!"

"Naughty filly!" I panted, and slammed my rod harder into her cunt. "Naughty fucking filly!"

"Yes! So naughty! I'm your naughty filly! Oh God, make me cum!"

Her cunt convulsed on my cock as her passion swept through her. She felt delicious, wonderful as her sheath milked my cock. I pulled back, and drove my cock home. Every muscle in my body tensed as my passion exploded thick into her.

Mary was shaking, breathing heavily, and then I heard a soft sob escape her lips. Fear filled me. Was I too rough? "Did I hurt you?" I tenderly asked.

"No," she said, sniffing. "It's just...You almost died again, Mark."

I pulled out of her, scooped my wife up in my arms, and carried her to the plush, leather chair behind the desk. Mary curled up on my lap, and I stroked her hair as she softly cried. "I didn't die though," I reassured her.

"I know, but...it was so close." She looked up at me, her green eyes red with emotion. "You were so burned. I didn't even know how you were still standing."

"You have no idea how close it was," I whispered.

"What?"

I swallowed, remembering the hate I felt when I saw Lilith. "I almost killed her. I..."

"Shh..." she said, putting her finger to my lips.

I swallowed; she was right. It wasn't safe to talk about this here. If I had killed Lilith, then the final lock on the Devil's prison would have sprung open, and he would have escaped Hell. I was only supposed to capture her.

I had to be more careful.

Mary kissed me gently. She couldn't say anything more, not outside of the Matmown. The Devil could be spying on us right this second from the Shadows. The only safe place to talk was that metal room, the Matmown. No spiritual being, not even the Devil, could penetrate the spells warding it. She was trying to reassure me, to quell the guilt and recriminations that twisted about inside me. We had driven Lilith from Seattle. She was no longer right on our doorstep, and we could take the time to figure things out, and to be ready for our next confrontation—and the consequences. Sam should be leaving for Israel in a few hours to study the Dead Sea Scrolls and figure out how to trap Lucifer if the worst should happen.

The kiss was soft, gentle, loving. I stroked Mary's face, relaxing into her lips. The kiss grew more passionate, Mary shifting, squirming on my lap as she kicked off her fatigues and underwear. My tongue explored her sweet mouth. I kept hold of her face, not wanting to break the kiss as she straddled me. We broke the kiss only long enough for me to pull her black halter-top off, my hands instantly going to her freckled breasts as we kissed again. Mary shivered in pleasure as I played with her nipples.

My wife raised her hips up, guided my cock to her wonderful hole, and slid achingly slow down my shaft. I groaned into her lips, enjoying the sensation of being buried in her sopping cunt. Then she raised up slowly – a shudder passed through my body – and then back down. This wasn't the frantic rutting of a few minutes ago; we were making love this time, slow and passionate.

My right hand let go of her left breast, sliding down her silky skin to cup her plump ass, guiding her hips as she slowly rode me. The leather chair creaked and my stomach sank as it leaned back. For a moment, I feared the chair was falling backwards. Then it stopped; her breasts hung down to brush my chest. She smiled in relief, then she pumped up and down on my shaft.

"Oh, Mark," she moaned, her emerald eyes staring down at me. Her ponytail hung down her neck and brushed my shoulder. "I love you."

I squeezed her ass, urging her to go faster, and pulled her down for another kiss. I put all my love into my lips, nibbling on hers and playing with her tongue. She tasted sweet. She rocked faster on me. The pleasure intensified, building in my balls, and I drove my cock into her. The chair wobbled and creaked, sliding about on the plastic mat on the floor, moving into a shaft of morning sunlight. Mary's hair was a tongue of fire kissing my shoulder and chest as we made love.

"My Mare!" I groaned, feeling my balls tightening. "I'm gonna cum."

"Do it," she whispered, her face flushed and sweaty with passion. "Cum in me."

Her velvety cunt gripped my cock as she slammed down and I exploded in her. She mewled in pleasure, her body shaking atop me as her passion burst inside her. She gasped once, then sighed, and snuggled against my chest.

"I love you, Mare," I whispered, my hand stroking down her side, down to her baby bump. "You and our child." I was going to have other children, with the sluts, with other women, but I knew I was going to love our children just a little bit more.

"Our only child," Mary sighed.

"What?" I asked her. "We can have other children."

"Nuns don't get pregnant, Mark. As long as I have the Gift, this is our only child."

I didn't know what to say, so I just kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry. It's not fair that I'm having all these children."

"It's okay, Mark." She shifted, looking up at me, and kissed me. "We'll have one child, at least."

"One daughter. I told my sperm, remember."

She laughed. "It doesn't work that way, Mark."

"Sure it does. Willow told me so. She's an OB/GYN."

Mary rolled her eyes. It was good to see her happy. Maybe having only one kid wasn't so bad, Mary wanted to name our first son Albert, after my grandfather. He was a great guy, but Albert was a terrible name. Our daughter would be named Chasity in memory of the loving woman that gave her life for Mary.

"Fine, if we only have one child..." Mary started to say.

"A daughter," I corrected.

"Fine, if we only have a daughter, her middle name will be Alberta," Mary declared with a mischievous grin. Did she read my mind? "Chasity Alberta Glassner."

Fuck. That was almost as bad. I opened my mouth to object, when the doors opened and Jessica walked in. She smiled at us, sauntering over to the desk. She wore a slutty secretary's outfit: a very short skirt, gray, thigh-high stockings, and a transparent, blue blouse that her caramel breasts were easily visible through.

"Master, Mistress," she smiled, sitting down on a chair across from us.

Mary smiled back, then climbed off me. Jessica's eyes fell on her messy cunt, and licked her lips. Jessica was a good slut. When Mary perched on the desk's edge and spread her legs, the slut quickly buried her face in my wife's pussy and licked my cum out of her. Mary gripped her honey-brown hair, writhing her hips. Her auburn hair tossed, and it wasn't long before she was shuddering in pleasure, tossing me a smile over her shoulder as she came.

"Umm, that was good," Mary purred.

"Thank you, Mistress," Jessica smiled, her lips sticky with pussy cream and my cum.

"Why don't you bend over the desk and let Mark fuck your ass," Mary ordered her. I smiled at Mary; she was a such loving wife, and always made sure my needs were taken care of.

"Are you ready to run the city?" I asked Jessica as I hiked up her gray skirt.

"Yes, I...ohh...am!" Jessica gasped as I slipped my cock into her tight ass.

"Good, we're heading back to Tacoma after this," I told her, fucking her bowels.

"I'll make sure things run smooth, Master!"

"I know you will. I have complete faith in you."

Her dark face flushed as she turned around to look back at me. "Thank you, Master! I won't let you down."

Her ass was tight, hot, as it gripped my cock. I squeezed her caramel hips and pounded her hard. My balls slapped against her pussy, and her ass constricted slightly every time her little slit was struck.

"I don't trust the new head of Seattle's Police," I continued. "Have her arrested. In fact, you might want to purge as many women out of the government as possible. Lilith had a lot of female followers. No men though."

"Oh, yes!" Jessica responded, thrusting her ass back against me. "That makes sense. She's a man-hater."

"Round up all the high-ranking government officials that are women," Mary commanded; she looked so sexy perched on the desk, the morning sun lighting up her body. "We'll sort out which ones work for Lilith and which ones are innocent."

"Yes, Mistress!"

Mary leaned over, her face inches from Jessica. "Are you making my husband feel good, slut?"

"I am, Mistress," Jessica answered.

"Good," Mary smiled and kissed her.

"Fuck, that's hot," I muttered as I watched my wife kissing Jessica. My balls were close to exploding, and I groaned and shot my wad into Jessica's ass.

Mary broke the kiss. "Clean his up cock, slut."

"Absolutely," Jessica purred, and quickly knelt before me, sucking my dirty cock into her mouth.

Mary slipped off the desk, rubbed Jessica's head, and told her, "You'll do just fine. We both love you."

Jessica beamed around my cock.

The door banged opened and Sam walked in, flanked by Candy. "I think Lilith may have done something to Fiona."

"What?" I asked her as Jessica released my cock.

"It's possible she's a trap," Sam answered. "Fiona was left alone in the Mayor's house with none of Lilith's children to guard her. The demoness had to know we were coming for her soon. She was ready to escape when your forces assaulted."

"Lilith meant for her to get captured?" Mary asked.

Sam nodded. "What if Lilith intends for you to exorcise her. She's a Warlock, right?"

"Yeah," I answered. "She's made some Pact with Lilith."

"Well, Lilith knows a lot. What if she baited Fiona somehow. If you try to exorcise her, it's possible for it to backfire and harm you. Maybe even kill you."

Mary paled, swallowing, and a chill ran through me.

Candy nodded. "It's what I would do. And Lilith is a crafty bitch!"

"Then how do we interrogate her?" Mary asked. "I'm not sure I can torture Fiona. She was one of ours, Mark."

It left a queasy feeling in my stomach, but we needed to know about Lilith's plans. "Maybe there is a way," I realized, glancing at my wife. "When you made your Pact with the Devil, Mary, what did you wish for?"

Tir – Sangi, the Democratic Republic of Congo

I watched Thamina, my birth-mother, sit disconsolately on the doorstep of a rough hut.

Fiona, her wife, never made it to the rendezvous. She was dead or captured; my birth-mother grieved her absence. We were in one of the three villages filled with the women we rescued from several 'refugee' camps in the jungles of Africa. In these camps, vile men called 'warlords' would wander in and claim these women for his men to be raped. Well, Mother sent my sisters and I to save them, and we made short work of a dozen of those bands. These women, recognizing the divinity of Mother, welcomed her embrace. By the end of the week, an army of my sisters would be born and we would retake Seattle.

"Mother will save her," I said, hugging my birth-mother.

"No, she won't." Despair creased her dusky face. "Lilith doesn't care."

"Of course Mother cares," I protested. Mother loved all her followers; she said so all the time. "You're just sad, but Fiona will be fine." She buried her face in my chest, and I held my birth-mother, and chirped a reassuring song to her. My song trilled beautifully, soft and comforting, and I rocked her as she sobbed, gently stroking her black hair.

"Tir," Mother purred.

I shuddered in delight, looking up at a perfect face framed by silver hair. Lilith. My Mother. She was the Ideal woman, the mold all others were imperfectly cast from. Her lust poured over me, over us. Even my sobbing mother shuddered in pleasure. Lilith ignored my birth-mother, staring down at me.

"How is the disease progressing?"

"Wormwood is spreading through the population," I answered, reaching out to sense my half of the disease.

I could feel it. Every man who drank from the city's water supply. The man he infected on his way to work, to school, to breakfast, to the gym. Some left the city, spreading it to the communities surrounding Seattle. Others entered the city and became infected. Even better, some had boarded planes, traveling to other parts of the United States and to other parts of the world. When the symptoms started manifesting in a few days, the world would descend into chaos.

"Wormwood?" Lilith asked. "That is what you're calling it?"

"It seemed appropriate, Mother."

Mother laughed, rich, beautiful. It made my song sound like an off-tune screech. "It does."

Fiona Cavanagh – Murano Hotel, Tacoma, WA

I lay on the hotel bed, watched by two of Mark's disgusting bodyguards. They still wore the same, ridiculously slutty, cop outfits. Though the chokers with their number printed on them was new.

How degrading. Mark couldn't even call them by their names, he just assigned them numbers. A pig who viewed women as nothing more than objects to satiate his myriad, twisted lusts. And that whore he married was even worse. Not only did she tolerate his degrading behavior, she encouraged it by finding women and serving them up to him so he could feast upon them.

I didn't recognize the two bodyguards. Of course they were beautiful, and Mark dressed them in such demeaning outfits. The Hispanic guard's large tits looked about ready to spill out of her top, and she wore no bra to give those large breasts any support, poor girl. Her number was 127. Next to her stood 126, a porcelain faced, Korean beauty. When did he get that many bodyguards?

I gave a snort of laughter. He's taken over the entire country, would soon control the entire world, and had driven my Goddess from her place of power, and here I am wondering when they expanded their bodyguards. Get your priories straight, woman!

I curled up on the bed, hugging a pillow, and wondered if Thamina was okay. And Ziki, my daughter with Lilith. She had been masquerading as Nate Kirkpatrick, head of Human Resources for the city of Seattle. Were they alive? The warehouse had been burned down. Did Thamina escape? She could make a portal to the Shadows, so she should have been able to escape. I didn't want to lose my dusky, Arab princess! She must have escaped!

Right?

And what was going to happen to me? Would Mark try to make me his whore again? No. My deal with Lilith should protect me from his control. So what would they do to me? Rape me? Torture me for information? I remembered how they treated Karen when she attacked them. They degraded her, broke her spirit until she agreed to be their little slut. Would they do that to me? Force me to be their whore again and wear that loathsome choker?

For a moment I couldn't breath, remembering the choker tight about my neck, strangling the will and dignity out of me. No! I'm a free woman! I will not submit to their vile lusts again!

At noon, they brought me a hamburger and fries for lunch. If I had any hope of escaping, I needed to keep my strength up. That's what people always said in movies in these situations. Keep my spirits up, keep my strength up, and wait for my captors to mess up and take my chances with an escape. After I ate, they let me use the bathroom, but one of the guards, 127 and her huge tits, followed me in.

As I sat on the toilet, pissing, I eyed her gun. I could go for it, grab it and shoot my way out.

The guard shifted, sensing my gaze and turning her body so the gun was on the other side. A warning look flashed across her dark face. I flushed. Crap! Now they would be more careful. When I finished peeing, the guard watched me wipe myself.

"You can take a shower," 127 told me.

"Are you going to watch?" I asked.

She gave me an apologetic smile. "Those are my orders. You should get used to this. Criminals always get watched."

"Is that what I am?" I asked, a bitter taste in my mouth. I reached into the shower and turned the knobs.

"Of course," she answered. "You served their enemies."

"We're fighting for you," I told her as I disrobed. "For every woman oppressed by a man."

"I'm not oppressed."

I laughed. "They why do you dress like a slut? You do it for Mark's perverse amusement."

"And why shouldn't my God delight in my form? Aren't I a gorgeous, sexy woman?"

"You're his slave, his toy!" I snapped at her.

"So? I chose to be their slave." Her eyes burned with fervor. "When I saw them wreathed in flames, standing triumphant before that false god Brandon, I knew I had to serve them. I quit my job, dumped my boyfriend, and traveled here." An exultant smile filled her face. "And they let me serve them. A flawed, imperfect human unworthy of their time or attention. Being their whore is a small price to pay." She let out a long, low sigh. "No, it was a wonderful price to pay. Her pussy tastes divine and his cock feels magical as it pistons inside me!"

I stared dumbfounded at her, then shut the shower curtain. She was like Alison and the other sluts that chose to stay with him. No, she was worse. The other sluts were clearly suffering from Stockholm syndrome. But this woman chose Mark; I shuddered at the thought.

"Guards have died for them, why would you chose that?" I asked her.

"I was a cop. I already decided to put my life on the line for others. This is no different." There was a pause. "No, this is very different. They're the Living Gods, the hope for mankind in defending against the demons. Like your foul Lilith!"

I stiffened. "My Goddess just wants to liberate women from the oppression of men! We are not objects to be used and discarded at their whims! We're smarter, more compassionate, more loving! We're not violent, we wouldn't cause war and suffering!"

She snorted a laugh. "Trust me, women can be just as violent, oppressive, and harmful as men."

There was no talking to this bimbo, and I turned my back and tried to enjoy my shower. With the curtain shut, I almost felt alone. Almost. I tried to ignore her shadow, the sound of her booted heels clicking on the tiled floor, and the muffled squawk of her radio.

"You're clean," 127 barked, finally growing impatient.

I reached out, shut the water off. A towel was flung over the curtain; I dried myself off, wrapping it around my hair. I opened the curtain, and I put on a terry cloth robe with the hotel's monogram.

Mark and Mary awaited me in the hotel room.

My blood chilled as Mark's blue eyes fixed on me and I suddenly felt naked; I clutched the robe tight around me. Oh, Goddess, this is it! He's going to try and make me his whore again. I started to tremble and froze in place. Be strong! You have to survive. For Thamina and for Lilith. They can only harm my body, not my mind.

Not my soul!

"Hello, Fiona," Mary purred and I flushed.

My eyes slid to her and I remembered just how beautiful she was, the most gorgeous, sexy, radiant woman in the world. A warmth spread through my loins. I licked my lips, remembering how soft and moist her lips were. I used to love nursing at her perky breasts, and worshiping at her delicious cunt—sweet and spicy and wonderful on my tongue. Goddess, what was wrong with me. My nipples hardened. The terry cloth robe rubbed pleasantly on my sensitive nubs, and I squeezed my thighs together, trying to relieve the ache in my loins.

"I see that you're not immune to all my powers," Mary cooed.

"How?" I asked. Mark had tried to give me orders already. "Lilith protected me from your mind control. We made a Pact!"

"I wished for all women to desire me," Mary answered. "Lilith told me it wasn't mind control. It merely lowered your inhibitions until you can't control your desire for me."

Mary stood up, slipping off the light, green dress she wore. She was naked underneath, beautiful, perfectly formed. Oh, Goddess, she was right. I wanted her so bad. I struggled, forcing my desire down. I pictured Thamina. I just needed to focus on my wife and fight these desires. She walked to me, her ass swaying. Her stomach was round, her pregnancy starting to show. I wanted to kiss her belly, and rub my face against her silky skin.

"Mmm, I've missed you, Fiona." She stood just a foot away, her eyes green pools, shining with lust. I shuddered as she reached out, touching my arm. "Why don't you take that off so we can get reacquainted."

It's just one little request, I told myself. And it was so hot in here. I slipped the robe off, her eyes falling down to my full breasts. I felt a little pleased; she found me attractive. I raised my hand, reaching for her when I froze. What are you doing, Fiona. Remember Thamina. I pictured her round, dusky face and dark eyes shining with love. I had to be strong!

I pulled my hand back and stepped away.

Mary frowned and I froze in place; I didn't want to disappoint her. Mary's hand reached out, and I shivered as she caressed my stomach, trailing down to finger my fiery-red bush. "You let it grow out?"

"Yes," I answered, trying to sound defiant instead of eager. I failed.

Mary stepped closer, her dusky nipples inches from brushing my breasts as her face swam before me. I licked my lips as she leaned in, closing my eyes, and I melted into her lips. I'm so sorry, Thamina, I just couldn't resist her. My arms wrapped around her, pulling her beautiful body into mine. I rubbed myself against her, reveling in the feel of her silky skin on my body.

I whimpered in disappointment when Mary broke the kiss. She turned, her plump ass swaying as she walked to the bed. She stretched out, then beckoned to me with a single finger. Smiling, I eagerly moved to the bed, sliding down next to her. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mark's leering, blue eyes. I didn't care, all that mattered was extinguishing the inferno Mary had stoked in my pussy.

I kissed Mary, my hands gently grasping her perky breasts. I fingered her nipples, then I kissed down her chin, nuzzling into her neck. Her fingers left trails of fire as she traced my skin. I moved lower and lower, rubbing my cheek into her breast and enjoying Mary's mewls of pleasure as I brushed against her hard nipple.

"Where is Lilith?" Mary asked.

I froze, my lips inches from her nipple. I looked up at her questioning eyes. "I can't tell you that."

"Why not?" Her hand reached down, fondled my breast. "It would make me so happy. And then I'll make you very happy."

I so wanted to make her happy. But Lilith was my goddess. "I'm sorry," I croaked. "I can't."

Her finger found my nipple, gently circling my areola and sending pleasure shooting down to my loins. My lips engulfed her nipple; maybe I could make her happy another way. I sucked, swirling my tongue about her hard nub, my other hand questing between her legs, and discovered her dripping-wet pussy. I teased her outer lips, then found her hard pearl and gently rubbed it.

"Umm, that's nice," Mary purred. "You want to make me happy, don't you Fiona?"

"I do," I insisted, slipping two fingers into her cunt.

"Then tell me where Lilith is."

"Africa," I whispered before I could stop myself. Mary's hips writhed beneath me. "A tiny village in Africa. The Congo, I think."

"Good, Fiona," Mary purred, then she pushed my head down. "You can use your mouth to please me."

I kissed her round stomach, rubbed my cheek through her pubic hair – still styled it into a fiery-heart – then I found her wet, beautiful pussy. I breathed in her sweet, spicy fragrance, spread her pink lips open, and dove in. How I missed this wonderful flavor! Mary moaned, arching her back as my tongue dove into her hole. I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her tight against me.

"127, suck my cock," I heard Mark order.

"With pleasure, sir!"

There was metallic rasp, then a sloppy, sucking sound. I ignored it; let the pervert watch. Nothing mattered as long as I made Mary happy. My tongue probed her hole, fucking into her while my fingers reached around her hips to pinch gently at her clit. Mary's hand grabbed my strawberry-blonde hair, and pulled me harder into her cunt, writhing her hips.

"Oh, fuck, that's nice!" she gasped. "You fucking whore! I'm gonna cum all over your pretty, little face!"

That sounded wonderful!

I massaged her clit harder and really worked my tongue into her cunt's depths. Her moans grew louder, and I had to hold on tight as her hips writhed beneath my tongue's assault. Her body went rigid, shuddering a few times as a flood of delicious juices poured out of her cunt into my eager mouth.

"Fuck, that was amazing!" she gasped. I looked up her sweaty body, past her heaving breasts, to the smile on her lips. I crawled up her body, my heavy breasts dragging across her skin. I kissed her; her tongue licked at my lips, tasting her pussy and savoring her flavor.

"I need to cum so bad," I whispered, rubbing my pussy on her thigh.

"I'll let you cum, if you tell me one thing."

"Anything," I begged.

"What is Lilith going to do next?"

I bit my lip. It felt so wonderful to rub my pussy on her thigh, relieving that ache inside me. "A plague. Tir, one of her daughters, has been working on it."

"A plague?" Mark asked, concerned.

"It's not ready," I quickly reassured him, then frowned. Why was I telling Mark anything?

Mary pressed her thigh up into my cunt, and I rubbed harder on her, the pleasure driving my question from my mind. "What kind of plague?"

"It...it..." I tried to speak. This was Lilith's deepest secret. I couldn't revel it. But her thigh felt so amazing, so silky smooth. She was relieving this terrible ache inside me. She was giving me this great pleasure; it would be wrong of me not to tell her. "It will kill all the men," I finally gasped, then I shuddered as my orgasm exploded through me.

"But it's not ready?" Mary asked.

"No," I sighed as the toe-curling release flooded through me. It felt so wonderful to cum.

She slid out from underneath me and I stared in confusion at her. "Take her to the prison," Mary commanded preemptively. "Keep her gagged and watched at all times!"

127 and 126 grabbed me. There was a line of Mark's cum leaking down 127's face, dripping down to her dark, heavy breasts. "What, why?" I asked, my mind still addled with lust.

"You sided with Lilith," Mary spat at me as she pulled on her dress.

"We let you go because we loved you," Mark said, his blue eyes hard with anger. "We would have left you alone! You can rot in the jail while we figure out what to do with you."

And then Mary was gone; my thoughts suddenly cleared, like a car window being defrosted. It came crashing down on me. I betrayed Lilith. And I betrayed Thamina. I collapsed in the bodyguards' grip, sobbing hysterically as they shoved a gag in my mouth, and dragged me out of the hotel.

My Goddess, what had I done.

Friday, November 15th, 2013 – Jessica St. Pierre – Seattle, WA

The first week of governing the city of Seattle was over. I needed to blow off some steam.

The last three days had been long and frustrating as I ferreted out all the followers of Lilith from the city's government. Over three hundred women had been rounded up and interned at the Washington State Convention Center. Master or Mistress would have to sort through them. Luckily, Nate Kirkpatrick, the head of HR for the city, was a great help in identifying those who might not be trustworthy.

Master had left two companies of soldiers, almost three hundred men, to protect me and to search for any of Lilith's children that lurked in the city. Seattle itself was peaceful. Many of the citizens were under my Masters' control. Often Master or Mistress would broadcast general orders to the population—to obey laws, be happy, follow orders, and so on. Crime in Seattle, and the country, had plummeted dramatically. Utopia was slowly, and painfully, being forced upon mankind.

The Humvee that chauffeured me around pulled up at the Four Seasons Hotel. A squad of soldiers – 1st Battalion, 23rd Infantry Regiment, all pledged to Master – escorted me in. They were all young and rugged men, and very sexy in their fatigues and bulky body armor. And their big guns; my juices trickled down my thighs! I could feel their eyes on my taut body.

I wore a micro skirt that barely covered my rear and thigh-high fishnets. And no panties; I had to be ready to be fucked. Stiletto heels gave my ass more shape and added an extra, sexy sway to my walk. My blouse was pink silk, and clung to my braless breasts like a second skin. Tight about my throat was a gold choker. Even though I ran the city, it was important that people knew whom I belonged to.

"Good evening, Holy Slut," Yvonne, the night concierge, greeted as I walked in. She was a fiercely beautiful Black woman; a leather choker tight about her neck proclaimed her devotion to Mark and Mary. I couldn't help touching my own, gold choker.

"Yvonne," I smiled back, remembering my first night in the hotel and the very warm welcome she gave me. She was as fierce in bed as she looked, and left me gasping in pleasure. Afterward, she had told me about the time Master fucked her in the elevator last June. Fiona had been with him that night, and I suppressed a surge of anger. Both Fiona and Thamina had sided with Lilith. Ungrateful bitches!

The elevator dinged; I was pressed into the rear of the elevator as my protectors piled in around me, sandwiching me between two handsome, young privates—Brasher and Santillian. I smiled winsomely at Private Brasher, a flush spreading across his young, handsome face. He was a few inches shorter than me, but I could feel just how solidly built he was as I pressed my body against him. Private Santillian was tall and whip thin, a charming, confident smile on his Latino face.

"Hmm, you boys are strong," I purred on the ride up.

Private Brasher flush deepened, and Private Santillian's leer grew. "I could show you just how strong I am, chica."

I boldly glanced at Santillian. "Oh, do you think you're man enough to handle me?"

"Chica, I have the biggest cock in the company! A foot-and-a-half just for you!"

"More like an inch-and-a-half," another soldier laughed.

"Hey, you been lookin' at me in the shower again, Pearson?"

"Oh, yeah," Pearson replied sarcastically, "I'm unable to resist your Latin magnetism."

"Damn straight! No-one can resist my manliness!" He turned to me, grabbing my hand and shoving it on his crotch. "That's no inch-and-a-half, eh, chica?"

I gave his hard cock a squeeze as the elevator dinged. "Hmm, that may get the job done." I reached out and grabbed Brasher's crotch and felt how hard he was. The other soldiers piled out of the elevator, scanning the hallway for threats briefly. "I think I need two strong men to keep me safe and sound all night long."

"Eres una perra caliente," Santillian breathed as I sauntered out of the elevator.

Pearson opened the suite room with a keycard, the lock whirring. As I walked across the suite to my bedroom, I unbuttoned my blouse and dropped it on the floor. I wanted all the soldiers to see my perky, caramel breasts topped with dark-chocolate nipples.

"Holy shit," Private Brasher muttered as a soldier patted him on the shoulder.

"Fuck that slut," another soldier called out. I smiled, glad they knew what I was, then I dropped my skirt and disappeared into my room.

"You are smokin' hot, chica!"

I turned to find Private Santillian pushing into the room. I pressed against his bulky body armor, kissing his handsome face with passion. His hands wasted no time in squeezing my ass hard. The other soldiers whistled and jeered. I pushed away and found the nervous Brasher. I pulled him to me, bent down and kissed him on the lips. He was stiff, awkward, but he got into it after a moment.

"Why am I the only one naked?" I pouted, moving to the bed and stretching out so they could feast on my body.

"¡Madre de dios!" Santillian breathed as he began ripping off his gear, dumping it messily to the floor. Next to him, Brasher just stared dumbfounded at me as I played with my hard nipple. I smiled invitingly at him; he began fumbling with his body armor.

"Fuck," he muttered, struggling with a stuck strap.

Santillian peeled off his shirt, reveling a slim, yet toned body, like a swimmer, the muscles rippling beneath the nut-brown skin as he moved. He bent down to unlace his boots, muttering curses as his haste made the knots worse. Brasher finally took his body armor off and dropped his thick, webbed belt and tore off his shirt. He had a few tattoos on his thickly muscled body: a screaming skull on one upper arm, and the words 'Indianhead' and 'We Serve' on the other.

"Here I come, chica!" the now naked Private Santillian exclaimed.

His cock – not the foot-and-a-half he had boasted, but it wasn't tiny either, a good eight or nine inches – proudly jutted out from a nest of thick, black hair. He crawled on the bed, kissing me; my hands sought out his cock, stroking the hard shaft. His hands squeezed my breasts painfully hard, roughly pinching my nipples. My cunt loved it; a flood of juices wept from my hungry hole.

I broke the kiss and saw Private Brasher had stripped. His cock was shorter, but thick, and uncut, the dark head peaking out of foreskin. I patted the other side of the bed and he shyly walked over, sitting on the edge.

"You've never done a threesome before?" I asked the shy soldier, sitting up and draping myself across his muscular back and licking at his ear.

"No," he admitted.

"Hey, vato, it's only gay if we touch," Santillian assured him. "As long as you're touching this hot chica everything's just fine."

I reached around, feeling Brasher's muscular chest and his hard abs before I found his cock. I gripped it, rubbing the head; he shuddered in pleasure. I pushed him back on the bed, my mouth reaching down to suck his cock in my hungry lips. Brasher moaned as I let my teeth gently graze his sensitive head, then I swirled my tongue around it, tasting his salty pre-cum.

I loved being a slut!

"Shit," Brasher muttered.

Santillian's hands grabbed my ass, giving me a good squeeze, then he pulled my butt up in the air and spread my legs. "Gonna taste your clam before it gets all messed up, chica," he muttered, his breath hot on my juicy cunt.

As I bobbed my head, Santillian's rough tongue swiped through my slit, starting at my clit and going all the way up to my taint. He moaned in satisfaction, then buried his lips into my snatch, his tongue wiggling all over. I could feel rough stubble tickling my vulva; I squealed in delight about Brasher's cock as I enjoyed Santillian's muff diving. His fingers pinched my clit, sending shuddering pleasure through me.

I moaned in disappointment when Santillian stopped tonguing me. I could feel him moving around behind me, the bed shifting about, then his hand was on my hip, and his cock nudged my pussy. He pushed slowly into me; his cock spread me open and filled me up. I gave him a squeeze with my cunt, and then he fucked me, ramming that hard shaft deep into me and igniting my passions.

"This puta just came on my cock!" He smacked my ass; I sucked harder on Brasher's dick.

"Fuck, fuck, goddamn fuck," Brasher moaned; his hands reached out. grabbing my head. Then his hips thrust, fucking his pole into my mouth, and shoving my head roughly up and down on his cock. "Fucking slut! Take it, whore!" I gagged as his cock erupted in my mouth; I swallowed his salty cum as fast as I could. "Goddamn," he muttered, letting me go.

His cock slid out of my mouth. I gulped a deep breath of air as Brasher panted on the bed. I looked back at Santillian, his eyes squeezed shut as he pounded my cunt, and I slammed back into him. His cock stirred me up, bringing my pussy closer and closer to another explosive orgasm.

"Fuck me!" I groaned. "Shit, your cock is driving me crazy!"

"Course it is, chica. I got the best cock on the planet! Ain't no-one gonna fuck you this good!"

"Oh, there's one cock better," I groaned.

"Whose?" he grunted.

"My Master's!" I screamed as my orgasm crashed through me, milking his cock, hungry for his cum.

"Fucking puta!"

His cum blasted into me, and I collapsed onto the bed, his cock popping out of me. I rolled over onto my back, reached down and scooped up a glob of his cum leaking out of my pussy. I stared at the milky fluid, then I sucked the salty cream into my mouth.

"You one dirty chica."

"I'm a slut," I proudly declared.

"Yeah, you are," Brasher panted, reaching out to grab me. "My dick wants a taste of that pussy."

I glanced at his hardening cock and grinned at him. "I'm ready for you."

Santillian scooted over as Brasher mounted me, his short, fat cock spearing hard into my greasy depths. Gods, it was the fattest cock I ever had. It almost hurt as he spread me open, a delicious ache that revved my engine. Brasher started fucking me faster, his mouth finding my dark nipples and sucking hard on them.

"Fuck me, fuck me!" I chanted as I writhed beneath Brasher. He ravished me like a hungry beast, pounding hard at my cunt. "Oh, shit! Yes, yes, yes!" My cunt clamped hard on his cock as a third orgasm exploded through me. My head lolled to the side as I writhed in pleasure, and saw Santillian polishing his hard pole.

I had to feel that inside me again. I told Brasher to roll over and I rode him, his hands squeezing my breasts. I looked over at Santillian, and reached behind me, spreading my asscheeks, and gave him a suggestive smile.

"Fucking puta," he excitedly muttered as he moved around the bed.

He smacked my ass and I squealed in delight. He spread my cheeks, the tip of his cock sliding about my crack as he struggled to shove it up my ass. His dick found my tight hole; he pushed. "Oh god!" I moaned, relaxing my ass as he slowly invaded me. I was so full, both my holes stuffed with cock. Santillian pulled back and shoved again, building a slow rhythm as he fucked me.

The pleasure spurred my hips into moving, riding up and down on Brasher's dick and finding a rhythm with Santillian's thrusts. I moaned as the cocks reamed my holes. Electricity rippled through me as both shafts pistoned in and out of me. It was so amazing! Two dicks sawed inside me, rubbing my sensitive flesh and driving me wild with passion.

"You are one fuckin', wild puta!" Santillian hissed, gathering a handful of hair and pulling my head back. "You're not going to be able to walk tomorrow after we're done fucking you!"

"Oh, yes!" I screamed. "Fuck me harder! Make me cum on your dicks!"

I shoved my ass back, burying his cock deep inside me, then I slammed my cunt down on Brasher's fat dick. Brasher sucked at my tits again, his teeth painfully nipping my nubs. I was going to burst inside. I could feel it. My passion grew and grew, swelling up until I couldn't think anymore. All I could do was pant and let these two men fuck me hard.

To use me for their pleasure like the slut I am!

"Take it puta! Take it!" Santillian hissed in my ear as he pulled my hair, sending sharp pain through me, and adding fuel to my growing fire. He buried inside me and erupted, painting my bowels with his cum.

"Yes!" I howled as my passion burst and intense pleasure roared through me.

My vision blackened; I collapsed on Brasher's muscular chest. Santillian's cock popped out of my ass, and Brasher kept thrusting his dick up into my cunt. I was too weak, too lost to the pleasure, to do anything as Brasher flipped me onto my back. He let out a loud grunt, then pounded away at my pussy.

"Whore!" Brasher gasped every time he bottomed out in me, his degrading words fanning the flames of my orgasms to burn hotter. "Whore! Whore! Fucking Whore!"

I am a whore! Their whore! My pussy kept cumming, squeezing his thick shaft as he pumped it in and out of me. His face contorted in a grimace, his eyes squeezed shut, and then his cum flooded my pussy. He stayed in me, breathing hard, staring down at me. I reached up and stroked his muscled arm, smiling at him.

"That was great, baby," I purred.

With a grunt he pulled out of me and went to find his pants. I sat up on my elbows, a dull, pleasant ache in my well-fucked pussy and admired his muscular body as he dressed. Santillian lounged naked on a chair, his eyes closed and his mouth hanging open as he slept. Sleep sounded great, but my stomach rumbled, so I reached for the phone to order some room service for dinner.

There was a knock at the door. "Ma'am, they need you back at city hall."

Dread filled me on the entire drive back to City Hall.

"We've had a hundred and three men walk in complaining of sores and rashes, sore throat, fever, sudden hair loss, and muscle ache," Dr. Simpson explained on the conference call as I sat in the Mayor's office – my office – in City Hall. "Once admitted, we're seeing their conditions rapidly deteriorate into paralysis and blindness, before they suffer cardiac arrest and die."

I looked at my advisers: Nate Kirkpatrick, the city's head of HR who quickly had become my right-hand man; the six male city council members – the others council members were women, and I ordered them interned – and Lieutenant-Colonel Maxey, commanding officer of 1st Battalion, 23rd Infantry Regiment. They all looked as horrified as I felt at the news, even Colonel Maxey. Gods! In a day, a hundred men dead or dying of some disease. A chill spread through me. This was Lilith's plague. But Fiona said it wasn't ready yet. Did she lie, or did Lilith hold back information from her?

No, that doesn't matter now. I need to deal with this plague. That's what's important.

"It's a very unusual disease," Dr. Simpson continued. He was the Chief of Medicine at the University of Washington's Medical Clinic. "So far, only men have fallen ill. Every hour more and more keep showing up. And not just at my hospital."

"We need to quarantine the city," I commanded, amazed at how firm my voice was—I felt like a mass of jello inside. But I led Seattle. I needed to remain calm and in control. Master and Mistress trusted me with this important task, and there was no way I would fail them!

"It may be too late for that," Dr. Simpson responded. "While the hospitals in Seattle are getting the most admittance, hospitals in the greater Puget Sound region are receiving similar cases."

Lilith – The Abyss

I watched the chaos of the hospital's ER from the Shadows. It was crammed full of sick men. Their pitiful moans were sweet music; I savored every, agonizing moment. The first man died just an hour ago. I watched his final, gasping breath as the doctors struggled to keep him alive.

He wouldn't be the last.

Wormwood burned like a wildfire, spreading through the world. The first cases were already overwhelming the hospitals in Seattle and the surrounding communities. Mark would be too distracted as the disease broke out across America, across the Earth. In a few days, the chaos would be so great my daughters will have no trouble retaking my demesne.

I floated up, surveying Seattle. It would be mine again!

To be continued...

---

The Devil's Pact Chapter 46: The Fall of Seattle

mypenname3000

Fantasy, Body modification, Female/Female, Lesbian, Mind Control, Violence

Introduction:

As the plague ravages Seattle, Lilith attacks, and Jessica gets caught in the middle.

Wormwood, as the disease became known, ravaged the world. No-one knows the precise number of men who died of the Demon Plague, but estimates are 1.02 billion. One-third of all the men living on the planet succumbed before the disease ran its course five months later.

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

Monday, November 18th, 2013 – Lilith – Sangi, the Democratic Republic of Congo

I looked proudly at my assembled daughters, most newly matured, as they stood in the muddy square of the rude village. It grated that I was forced to retreat to such a... distasteful place. Well, that was about to change.

Alitha, Mazikeen, Tzavau, Manticore, Edimmu, Nirah, Zu, Aesma, and a dozen more different breeds stared worshipfully at me. A thousand monsters out of the darkest nightmares of mankind. The humans sill remembered my children in distorted legends and tales. The fear they caused etched into the very soul of mankind. My children were so feared, so powerful, the Creator had drowned the world and started anew. But not this time—He promised on the slopes of Mount Ararat to never destroy the world by deluge again.

And He keeps his promises.

"Open the portals!" I commanded. Lana, Chantelle, and Thamina leapt to obey, carving holes in the air to the Shadows.

It was time to retake my city. From Seattle I would breed an even larger army and sweep this world clean of all the vile men. I would fix the Creator's mistake in ever bringing the brutish pigs into being, ushering in a utopic paradise.

I would recreate Eden in my image.

Mark – The Matmown, Tacoma, WA

I was exhausted.

Mary and I spent the day healing those that had fallen to Lilith's plague. Hundreds had already died and thousands were falling sick. The plague burned across the world. It was more virulent than the common cold. Seattle was the worst hit. It seemed like every man in the city had fallen ill, Doctors included.

Hospitals had exhausted their resources trying to deal with the sick, reduced to staffs of mostly nurses and many of those were staying home to care for their own husbands, sons, and fathers. So far none of the Legion – the military sworn to me – had fallen ill, or any of those bound by the Zimmah ritual. But 10,000 soldiers was not enough to maintain order in the US, let alone the world.

"Our Hot Labs have isolated the bacteria," Dr. Franny Albertson explained. She was an Epidemiologist Officer from the CDC, trained to deal with pandemics. "It's a modified version of the Treponema pallidum, commonly called syphilis."

"It's an STD?" I asked.

"Well, not anymore. But it started out that way."

That explained why I was immune, and all those bound to us by the Zimmah spell. Months ago, Mary and I performed the Bathuwlah ritual and made ourselves, and those bound to us, immune to STDs.

"Someone has engineered this attack to affect only men," Dr. Albertson continued. "We're not sure how. And they've increased its durability, giving it a protein to protect it from UV light, allowing it to be transmitted in the air."

"What can we do to stop it?" Mary asked.

"Syphilis has a history of being resistant to antibacterials," she answered. "The exact protein of its outer shell has never been fully studied, and this strain is even more robust. The best thing to do is isolate the men not already infected. The only good news is we've seen about half of those infected begin to recover."

"What about containment?" I asked.

"We may be beyond containment," the doctor said. "There are cases appearing across the entire world. Seattle is a hub for international traffic, and the dormancy of this bacteria appears to be about 3-5 days before symptoms appear. This has allowed the disease to spread far and wide."

My stomach sank. "What about the military?"

"It's hitting the general troops hard," General Brooks answered. He commanded the Legion. "The Legion seems unaffected. Healthy units are being quarantined, and we're forming new units out of female soldiers. But they only form about 15% of the military."

There was a knock on the metal door to the Matmown and a junior officer walked in and whispered something to General Brooks. "My Lord, something is happening in Seattle."

Jessica St. Pierre – City Hall, Seattle, WA

I was exhausted.

I don't think I've slept since the outbreak started, other than a few minutes dozing at my desk. The situation was horrible. The hospitals were crammed with sick and dying men with only a few overworked nurses and doctors – the few who were still coming to work – to tend to them. It seemed most of the male doctors and nurses were infected before proper quarantine procedures could be established, creating more patients for the beleaguered female nurses and doctors.

This is what Lilith wants—a world without men.

I stared down at the report in front of me. It was an order to start burning the dead. There wasn't time to bury them and they were beginning to pile up in the makeshift morgues. The battalion of soldiers Master gave me were stretched thin. They were the only men in the city immune to the disease, and had to be everywhere, trying to help out. I only had a section, half of a platoon, guarding me at city hall. It was all that could be spared.

I nodded my head and jumped. I had fallen asleep. I was so tired. I rubbed my eyes. What was I doing? I looked down at the order. Right. I reached for a pen, and scrawled my signature neatly at the bottom. I set that aside, and reached for the next piece of paper. A casualty list. It was heartbreaking. Most who died were young boys and elderly men.

I grabbed the next paper. Proposed food distribution sites. Every store in the city was shut down, no-one wanted to be out in public anymore. But people needed to eat and rations were being brought in by the military. Places needed to be chosen for those spots. I blinked, the page growing blurry as I struggled to focus.

I jumped; fireworks exploded outside.

I frowned, standing up. Why would anyone be setting off fireworks at a time like this? I walked to the window, glancing down at James Street and saw three soldiers firing their weapons down the boulevard. My exhausted mind struggled to think. Why would they do that?

A black rock crashed into one of the soldiers, caving in his chest. That woke me up; adrenaline spiked through me, setting my heart thudding. Up the street a brown-skinned, hairless woman ripped up another chunk of asphalt and hurled it at the soldiers. No, one of Lilith's monsters, I realized with a chill. More monstrous women rushed the soldiers, covered by the asphalt missiles. They were all varied: a gray-skinned woman with white hair, a gaunt woman with shriveled sacks for breasts, and a green-scaled woman loping on all fours.

The remaining soldiers kept firing; their bullets ripped into the green-scaled woman and she collapsed in a bloody heap, smoke rising from her wounds. The gray-skinned monster stopped and thrust her hands forward; a great wind swept down the street, buffeting the soldiers and knocking them to the ground. The skeletal woman reached one of the prone soldiers, her fingers sharp as claws, and she drove them through his body armor into his chest and plucked out his heart.

I couldn't hear what the last soldier shouted as he struggled to aim his weapon. He fired a grenade from a launcher slung on the bottom of his rifle. The window shattered before me as a boom rocked the building. I threw up my arms as a few shards of glass cut my forearm. The skeletal woman was gone, bits of her staining the street.

The door to my office burst open and I whirled about in fear. It was Privates Brasher and Santillian. "We have to go, ma'am," squat Brasher shouted. His radio squawked noisily. "Those damned monsters are popping up all over the city!"

Santillian grabbed my shoulder and pushed me forward while Brasher led the way to the elevator. Another boom rocked the building, then a loud, repeating roar—some sort of heavy weapon firing. The elevator ride seemed to take an eternity to go down the two floors to the lobby. I trembled in fear; my heart seemed to beat a million times a second. I was afraid it was going to explode.

The doors opened on the lobby. Outside was parked a Stryker. The repeated roaring noise came from the machine gun mounted on a turret atop the armored vehicle, firing down Fourth Avenue. No-one manned the turret, it was controlled remotely from inside. Two more soldiers huddled on the side of the vehicle, firing their weapons in the same direction.

The air rippled behind one of the kneeling soldiers, like a mirage dancing on hot pavement, and then a woman stepped out of the ripples. She was pale; her hair seemed to glow with white light. She pointed her finger at the back of the soldier and a bright, red beam struck him and he fell forward, a smoking hole through his body armor.

"¡Madre de dios!" Santillian cursed as he and Brasher opened fire on the woman. The glass front doors shattered into tiny beads of broken glass. The woman turned, pointed her finger at us as a bullet struck her in the chest. Her red beam went wide, slicing through the front of the city hall, leaving behind a smoking line of destruction.

"Go! Get in the Stryker!" Brasher roared and raced for the front door.

A bullish, winged woman dropped on the Stryker from the sky, the vehicle rocking on its four axles, groaning in protest. How could something so heavy fly? She grabbed the turret and ripped the machine gun off, hurling it down. Then she grabbed at the hatch on top and started prying up the metal. Brasher fired his weapon at the winged monster. She didn't even flinch as his shots stung her body, leaving small, bloody holes.

The remaining soldier outside the Stryker ran for City Hall as a horde of monstrous women poured down the street, no longer kept at bay by the turreted machine gun. The lone soldier did not get far before a leonine woman spat a quill at him; he convulsed and fell upon the steps of city hall.

"Run, chica!" Santillian yelled. He knelt down behind a pillar, pulled out a grenade and tossed it out the door. "We'll try and hold them off."

The grenade detonated, killing several monsters, but more were pouring up the stairs. I turned and fled deeper into the building. I vaguely remembered that there was a fire escape out onto Cherry Street this way. Behind me, Brasher and Santillian's gunfire faltered and went silent. I raced down hallways, fear spurring me to run faster than I thought possible.

There was the fire escape! There was safety!

I sprinted down the hall and crashed through the red door, ignoring the alarm I set off. Cherry Street looked like a warzone. Three cars burned, set ablaze during the firefight, and a few, cratered holes littered the street. The soldiers guarding this street lay torn apart. There were no monsters. They all seemed to be around the corner, so I turned and ran down Cherry street away from the carnage.

I was going to escape!

A red-winged woman with a hawkish nose dropped before me. I tried to stop, but my momentum carried me into the monster. Her talon-like hands gripped my arm painfully and she eyed me up and down, her head moving with jerky, stilted motions, like a bird.

"Well, well, Mother will be pleased to see you, Jessica."

The bird-monster dragged me back into city hall. More monsters roamed the hallways, breaking down office doors and dragging out the few women that were trying to keep the government running. As we walked past, the monsters growled, snarled, or leered at me. I shivered in fear, clutching my choker. What was going to happen to me?

"I will take her," a man's voice said.

I blinked. Nate Kirkpatrick stood next to my former slut-sister Thamina. It was a punch to the stomach. I had relied on Nate. He had been my right-hand man in running the city. Why was Nate helping them? He was a man. I thought Lilith hated men?

"I caught her, I'll bring her to Mother," the bird-woman protested, squeezing my arm painfully.

"Lilith's orders, Pazu!" Thamina snapped. There was a flinty look in the Arab woman's eyes.

"Yes, Priestess," Pazu pouted, shoving me at Nate.

"What's going on, Nate?" I asked as he and Thamina led me to the stairs that led to the utility basement.

"I'm not Nate," he answered. "I'm Ziki. You are going to help get my mother back."

Your mother? He's one of Lilith's children? She could have male children? Then the import of his words struck me and hope blossomed. "We captured Lilith?"

"No, Fiona!" Thamina hissed. "Mark and Mary love you. They'll be more than willing to trade you for her."

"But first we need some information," Nate-Ziki smiled and I shuddered. "Then we'll trade you for mother."

I swallowed my fear. They couldn't hurt me too much. They needed me if they were going to trade me for Fiona. I glanced askance at Thamina. "Why are you helping Lilith?"

"For Fiona," she whispered, then glared at me. "It doesn't matter. I have chosen my side. You chose yours. Now we have to live with our decisions."

They opened a door, and I was pushed into a storage room piled with folding tables and boxes; it smelled a little musty. Nate-Ziki threw me roughly to the floor as Thamina pulled out a thick, black marker from her pocket and proceeded to draw strange symbols on the wall while muttering under her breath. They were like the symbols in the Matmown.

"What are you doing?" I asked, falling back on my reporter training. Ask questions, get answers. "What are you drawing?"

"I'm masking this room from unwanted sight," Thamina answered. "It won't stop a powerful entity from spying here, but it will keep out Mark's ghosts."

"Is that how Lilith kept Master from finding her first lair?" I asked her.

"We thought it would, yet he seemed to find it anyways," she complained. "How did he do that?"

"I can't tell you that," I protested.

"Of course not." She was working on the third wall, skillfully drawing the symbols with what smelled like a permanent marker, sharp and pungent, burning my nose.

"So what are you?" I asked Nate-Ziki. "You say you aren't Nate Kirkpatrick."

"He's dead," he answered. "I killed him."

"And took his form?"

He nodded. "It was useful to get our people into the government." He gave a small laugh, his fat belly jiggling beneath his sweater. "All wasted thanks to Mark." He practically spat out Master's name, like it left a bad taste in his mouth.

"I assume all the women you recommended for arrest were innocent?"

He grinned at me; I suppressed a stab of anger at the betrayal. How could I have been so stupid. I was so fixated on Lilith's hatred of men that I assumed any man could be trusted. Then it hit me. "You knew where all the soldiers were stationed in Seattle."

"That's why I was born," he shrugged. "To spy on Mother's enemies."

"Strip," Thamina commanded abruptly, as she finished drawing her symbols.

"Why?" I asked.

"We can't take the chance you have some enchanted item from Sam," she answered. "Like the amulet you have around your neck."

"Fine," I sighed. I pulled off my bronze amulet, handed it to Thamina, then pulled off my transparent blouse and my short skirt, then I pealed off my stockings. "There."

"Choker, too."

My hands went protectively to my gold choker. "No."

"We'll take it from you, Jessica," Thamina sighed. "You'll get it back when we trade you for Fiona." Her expression softened. "We can't take the chance that it's enchanted, okay. I'll take care of it. We were sisters once. Trust me, Jessica."

I stared into Thamina's face and remembered the passion I once shared with the woman. "They still love you," I said, reaching behind my neck to unclasp the choker. "Fiona, too. Ask for their forgiveness and come back to them. Remember all the fun we had. You're missed."

Thamina shuddered. "I won't be their whore again!"

"Fine, but why side with Lilith? She's evil."

"Lilith never stole my free will."

"No, she's just unleashed a plague that's killing thousands and many more."

"Men," Thamina dismissed.

"Even the children? The infants?"

She flinched, then turned and fled the room with my clothes. I glanced at Nate-Ziki and realized he had stripped naked. He was a big, burly man, his fat stomach hanging over his groin and his cock just visible beneath the pouch.

"Are you going to rape me?" I asked.

Nate-Ziki cocked his head, his eyes examining me. There was no lust in his eyes. It was—clinical. He was studying me, like a scientist peering into the microscope at some strange, new bacteria. For the first time since I became their slut, I felt self-conscious at being naked, and covered my breasts with one hand and my pussy with the other.

"What do you want?" I asked, fear trembling in my voice.

"What do you want?" The words came from his mouth, but that was my voice. The same pitch and timbre, the same rhythm. The same fear trembled in his words.

"Oh, Gods!" I gasped.

"Oh, Gods!" His head cocked, still examining me like a specimen.

"What are you?"

"What are you?" he mimicked perfectly. "You have a very controlled voice," he said suddenly, still sounding like me. "But this is not your real accent. I can pick up its intonations buried beneath this learned diction. You are from the area known as the South, yes?"

How? I had worked very hard in school to lose my accent; a journalist should speak clearly.

"Louisiana?"

"Fuck you!" I snapped.

He smiled, then began to change; his skin rippled like water and he contracted, his fat disappearing, absorbed by his body. The limbs shrank, turning skinny, lithe. The stomach was completely flat now, the shoulders narrowed and pleasant curves appeared at his hips. His sagging man boobs perked up, shrinking and transforming into a pair of nicely formed breasts; the cock between his legs shrank, vanishing up inside his body along with the coarse pubic hair. And not just the pubic hair, all the body hair disappeared, growing back inside his body. The age vanished from his face, the lines softened, the nose shrank; his hair grew honey-brown and lengthened. Spots of caramel blossomed on his skin, spreading like mold until his entire body was the same, rich brown.

Nate Kirkpatrick transformed into me.

I swallowed, and my doppelganger swallowed, adopting my trembling pose. I moved my arm, it moved its arm. It was like looking into a mirror. I raised up my right arm, so did Ziki. No, not a mirror, my image wasn't reversed. I licked my lips, Ziki licked hers. I breathed in and so did she.

And then she walked to me, her hips swaying just the way I liked to sway them. I backed away from her, bumping into a stack of folding tables. She reached out, touched me with my fingers, sliding up my stomach between my breasts. She drew her finger across my tit, and touched my hard nipple; pleasure tingled through me.

Her face moved closer, my eyes swam closer and closer, and then I was kissing myself—my doppelganger. My hands reached out and cupped Ziki's breasts. They felt just like mine, the same weight, the same feel. I gave the tit a squeeze—the same yielding firmness. Our passion grew as I kissed myself, made love to myself.

This was so wild!

We sank down to the floor, kissing, our hands exploring each other. I knew just where to touch her, and she knew just how to touch me. Never in my life had someone aroused me so thoroughly. The more we kissed, the more we touched, the closer we became. It was like we had one mind, one thought—to give each other as much pleasure as possible.

The concrete of the floor was cold on my back as my doppelganger straddled my face, my shaved pussy descending to my lips. I tasted her, tasted my sweet, sour juices. Her tongue mirrored mine. Wherever I kissed her pussy, she kissed mine. I sucked her clit, she sucked mine. I buried my face into her cunt, sucking and licking, moaning my pleasure as she vigorously ate me out.

She slipped a finger into my pussy and I copied her, pushing a finger into her cunt. She felt just the way I remembered, and I curled my finger, searching for that special spot that would set off the explosion building in our pussies. It was right there; I knew this pussy intimately. We touched each other's G-spots at the same instant.

We came together, bucking into each other's cunts, and all my thoughts, my memories, my experiences opened up. And she knew them, absorbed them like a sponge drinking in water. Everything. My secrets. Master's secrets. We were one creature for a split second, our souls wrapped tightly together, bound by pleasure.

And then the orgasm faded and we were two.

I froze. My doppelganger stood up. Oh, no! She knew everything. She stole the most important secret entrusted to me—Master and Mistress couldn't afford to kill Lilith. Not without causing the end of the world.

"No!" I shouted, lunging at myself, but she nimbly dodged away and slipped out of the room. The door slammed shut with a metal thud. I grabbed the door, turned the knob and wrenched it open. The leonine woman was there and she bared her teeth at me as she loomed over me and I stumbled back in fear.

I collapsed onto the floor and sobbed. Oh Gods, what have I done?

Mark – I Corp Headquarters, JBLM

The predator drone's footage was in black-and-white infrared and everyone glowed brightly. The last of my soldiers were holding out at the Washington State Convention Center as Lilith's monsters swarmed the massive building. A bomb went off on Pine Street, dropped from an A-10 giving air support, leaving a giant crater and the broken remains of dozens of her daughters.

But still they came.

A second A-10 banked into view, firing its massive cannon mounted on the front of the plane. It was a tank buster, and it left small craters as the bullets marched up 8th Street, blasting cars and monsters to ruins. A bright, white line lanced up from a group of monsters and the wing of the A-10 sheered off. The plane spun through the air and slammed into a building. Smoke and flames erupted, then the building collapsed in a cloud of dust.

It was the third A-10 shot down. Another two F-22's had been brought down by some sort of flying monster. The pilots' frantic maydays reported a bullish woman with wings ripping their canopies off.

"Seattle is lost," General Brooks muttered. "It'll be costly to take the city back. I've mobilized the Legion still in the region at three staging points around Seattle. 3000 men. The Air Force is sending more fighters and bombers. Luckily the percentage of female pilots is higher than the 15% average of the rest of the military."

I glanced at Mary, who chewed her lower lip. She looked haggard and I reached over and squeezed her hand. "How long before you can launch a counterattack, General?"

"Five or six hours, my Lord."

"Do it," I commanded.

The General nodded. There was apprehension in his eyes. This was going to be a bloodbath. Lilith must have been breeding this army in Africa. Her daughters grew supernaturally fast. They spent longer in the womb – forty days – then it took them to mature. In three days Lilith's daughters would grow from infancy to maturity. The only positive was that a human woman could only conceive with Lilith once. Most would bear a single child, but twins were not unheard of and triplets might be a possibility. But no second pregnancies.

"My Lord," a lieutenant reported. "A Chantelle is calling. She claims to speak for Lilith."

"Put her through," Mary ordered, sitting up.

The lieutenant routed the call to a speaker phone that sat in the middle of a conference table. "I am High Priestess Chantelle Paquet-Holub. Whom am I speaking to?"

"It's good to hear your voice," Mary answered. "We've been searching for you and Lana for months. We miss you."

Chantelle laughed, "I do not miss being your slave, even if it was only for that one day."

I gritted my teeth. It's possible Chantelle is Lilith's slave, and not a willing participant like Fiona and Thamina. It hurt to discover our former sluts plotting against us. We loved them and set them free, and they had the gall to side with Lilith. Ungrateful bitches! And what about Noel? Had she also sided with Lilith?

"What does Lilith want?" I asked.

"A ceasefire," Chantelle said. "And a prisoner exchange. We have Jessica and a dozen of your soldiers. We will trade them for Fiona."

"When and where?" Mary asked.

"Tomorrow, 7 AM. On I-5 at the Seattle City limits," Chantelle answered.

"We need to discuss this," I said.

"Fine," Chantelle answered. "I will call again in one hour." The phone clicked and hummed as the line went dead.

"What's there to discuss?" Mary asked. "We can get Jessica back."

"By delaying the attack, letting Lilith dig in," I pointed out.

"And what happens if..." she trailed off, staring at me intently. What happens if Lilith dies is what she wanted to say. "The attack is risky."

"And after the exchange?"

Mary chewed her lip, worrying it so much I was afraid she was going to gnaw it off. "We attack," she finally answered.

Monday, November 18th, 2013 – Mary – I-5 at Seattle City Limits

The icy rain hammered the hood of the limo as we stopped three hundred yards short of the Seattle city limits. An entire armored column escorted us, twenty Strykers led by two M1 Abrams tanks. Orbiting overhead were Apache and Black Hawk Helicopters. We were ready if Lilith tried to do anything during the prisoner exchange.

Sitting between Mark and me was Fiona, gagged and restrained. The strawberry-blonde woman had been well treated during her week-long captivity in the Pierce County Jail and seemed eager to go back to Lilith.

*Are you ready?* Mark sent.

I knew he didn't want me coming to the exchange, and it was sweet how he tried to protect me, but I just couldn't stand staying behind and waiting. I was protected by my enchanted stab vest, and readied to cast whatever spells were necessary to protect us. Sam had dug up a paralyzing spell in the Dead Sea Scrolls, the only useful thing she had found so far in Israel. I checked to make sure my bronze dagger was in its sheath in case I needed to carve a portal to the Shadows if things went sideways.

*Yes, let's get Jessica back.* I sent back.

The rain was freezing cold, sending a shock through me as I stepped out into it. It fell heavily and quickly plastered my hair to my head. It was still dark, the sun just starting to rise. At least I think it was. It was hard to tell with the angry clouds above. A wind whipped up, driving the rain sideways. Around us, soldiers disembarked from the Strykers, setting up their battlelines. I grabbed Fiona, and marched her forward.

Six hundred yards down I-5 a mass of monsters waited, dark shapes in the driving rain. We agreed to meet in the center, bringing only fifteen guards apiece. Mark summoned his Celestial Gold armor and sword, and then he summoned our guard. A mist appeared and fifteen figures coalesced about us. Chasity, Karen, and our thirteen dead bodyguards. They were clad in silver armor, and clutched silver 9mms in their hands.

"Master, Mistress," Chasity smiled. She looked fierce, a warrior women with blue eyes and blonde hair. A Valkyrie.

"It's good to see you all," I smiled back. "You are all missed."

"Are they going to try anything?" Mark asked Karen. We often summoned her for information.

"Not that I can divine, Master," Karen answered. I blinked, just realizing the driving rain passed right through her ghostly body. It must be nice to control when you interacted with the physical world. "They've shielded City Hall with spells that keep ghostly eyes out."

I could see a group break off, walking down the highway. That would be Lilith and her guard. I nudged Mark and he nodded, muttering, "Let's get this over with."

We marched down the highway, an army at our back to cover us if anything went wrong, and our ghosts formed up in a protective circle about us. My stomach fluttered with nerves as Lilith's group became more visible. She must have chosen the fifteen biggest daughters she had: there were two of the giantesses, nearly ten feet tall; three of the bullish, winged women; and two leonine woman that, according to Mark, could spit poisoned spines. Walking in the center was Lilith, her silvery hair plastered to her lush body; Chantelle walked beside her, marching Jessica.

Relief flooded me, she looked fine. A hopeful look appeared in her eyes when she saw us. Behind them marched a few of our captured soldiers. They looked proud as they marched unarmed, not willing to show weakness to their captors. We both stopped twenty yards apart, facing each other warily. My heart was really hammering and I tried not to tremble. I saw what those monsters could do up close when we attacked the warehouse last week and, even with our ghostly guard, I wasn't sure the odds were even close to our favor.

"My Goddess wishes to speak to you two face to face!" Chantelle shouted. "She proposes that we leave our guards behind and meet in the middle to talk!"

"Talk about what?" I shouted back.

"A truce!"

I glanced at Mark and he grimaced. "You should stay here, I'll go by myself," he finally said. "It's too..."

I touched his lip with my finger. "I know, but we're in this together. My life bound to yours."

"Fine," he stiffly said. "Let's do this."

We strode forward as Lilith and Chantelle did likewise, leaving behind our guards. Lilith was as beautiful as I remembered, even soaked by the driving rain. In fact, the rain-soaked dress wetly clinging to her lush body only added to her sensuality. My eyes fell to Chantelle, who looked as cold as she was drenched; she still moved with a dancer's grace.

"Lilith," Mark growled.

The demoness ignored Mark, glancing at me. "Hello, Mary. Do you ever think about that cock I gave you?"

My cheeks warmed, and Lilith's smile deepened. That bitch did tell me about the Magicks of the Witch of Endor just to tempt me! "We're not here to talk about that!" I snapped. "What do you want?"

"What happened to your species?" Lilith wondered. "Your kind used to live on ceremony. Now it's all rush, rush, rush. It's so...undignified.

"Cut the crap!" my husband growled. His right fist clenched, and his face grew flushed. He wanted to summon his sword and ram it through the bitch, the consequences be damned. Part of me wanted to let him. She killed Karen!

"Seattle," Lilith answered. "It's my city, and I want you to formally acknowledge it."

Mark laughed. "Why would we do that. You can't fight my forces."

"No," she admitted. "But you don't want to kill me."

I didn't think I could feel colder in this driving rain, but her words turned to ice inside. Does she know the truth? They had captured Jessica.

"I'd love nothing more!" my husband growled.

"It is a shame this disease is spreading across the world," Lilith smiled like a serpent eying a mouse.

"We know you are responsible, Lilith!" Mark spat. "And you will pay for all those deaths!"

"Will I?" Lilith asked. "If something were to happen to me, I could only imagine what one of my daughters would do. They would be inconsolable, and in their grief they could spread a new plague. One not so discriminating."

A weird relief flooded me. Lilith didn't know that we couldn't kill her. Now we just had another reason why we had to spare the bitch. The CDC had been quite clear; the disease was engineered to only affect men. That could be changed.

"Blackmail, Lilith?" Mark asked. "How disappointing."

"You have grown too powerful," Lilith sighed. "It is pointless for us to fight. We'll just destroy each other. Give me Seattle and you can have the rest."

"Really?" I couldn't keep my derision out of my voice. Never trust a demon.

"It is better than going back to the Abyss," the demoness replied. "Whatever happens in Seattle is my affair, not yours. And whatever happens outside it is yours."

*I don't think we have a choice, Mark* I sent. *Even if she's bluffing on the disease, we're not ready to fight Lucifer. If we attack the city, Lilith could easily be killed by accident.*

"What about the men in the city?" Mark demanded. "Will you let them go?"

"I will see that they are properly cared for." I shuddered at the venom in Lilith's tone. "But that is none of your concern. What are a few thousand men versus the world?"

I could see the frustration in Mark's face, his fists were balled tightly. "Fine, Seattle is yours. But if any of your 'daughters' set foot outside of Seattle, they will be hunted down and executed."

"More than reasonable," Lilith purred.

"And if there's another outbreak, I will reduce Seattle to rubble," Mark promised. "I have the US nuclear arsenal under my control. The first hint, Lilith."

I saw concern, fear even, flash across her face for one instant, and then she was back to her sultry insolence. "Then we are agreed. I propose a yearly meeting right here on the anniversary of this meeting, in case there are any issues that need discussing."

"Fine," Mark spat.

"Then we have a Pact." She gestured behind her, and our imprisoned soldiers marched forward, passing by us. "As a gesture of good will," Lilith explained. "And now you send Fiona and I'll send your little slut."

Fiona and Jessica both walked forward, Jessica's head held high, trying to ignore the freezing rain, and Fiona hunched, hugging herself and shaking with more than the cold. I could feel Mark's tension in the air; it was worse than mine. At any second Lilith could betray us. This could all be just a ruse to lure us into letting down our guard. Jessica and Fiona passed. Jessica glared daggers at Fiona; the former slut didn't even react. A smile broached our slut's caramel face as she neared. Fiona reached Lilith, and they retreated.

Jessica threw her arms around me, hugging me tightly. "Thank you, Mistress. Thank you, thank you, thank you."

"They didn't hurt you?" I asked her. "Or..."

"No, they just stuck me in the basement," she answered, shivering in my arms. She wasn't dressed for the rain. "They never touched me."

"C'mon, let's get you home," I told Jessica, wrapping my arm around her, throwing one last glance over my shoulder at Lilith. She seemed to be retreating back. I sighed; it wasn't a trap.

Noel Heinrich – Patriot's Headquarters, Montana

"They found a girl," Wyatt said as I stepped out of the portal from the Shadows. "Stowed her in the small bedroom."

Wyatt, my second-in-command, was packing clay into the chicken wire frame of the golem. Seven more assembled golems – made of the local, red clay and vaguely shaped into the form of powerfully built men – loomed in the pasture before the ranch house that served as our headquarters. We were twenty-five miles south of Sanford, in the middle of nowhere, Montana. The nearest neighbor was over five miles away. The perfect place to plot the end of Mark Glassner and his Theocracy.

"Good," I nodded.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked. "It's not too late to let the girl go. Christ, Noel! It's evil!"

"The golems are coming along well. How long until they're all ready?"

"It's going a little faster. Six months maybe." He fixed his brown eyes on me. "You avoided the question."

"We'll need the blade," I answered. "It's the only way to neutralize the ghosts protecting them. Mark thinks the Shadows is safe and will not expect an overwhelming attack from there."

He sighed, shaking his head. "This hate's going to destroy you, Noel."

"As long as I take the Tyrants with me."

He turned back to the golems. "A lot of people are going to die if we unleash these monstrosities." He grimaced. "Innocent people."

More blood to feed the tree. Freeing mankind from his tyranny was worth any price. "We have six months to find a way to kill Mark without resorting to such extreme measures." I glanced at the house. "She's inside?"

"Yeah."

I strode towards the ranch house, nodding to the hulking Davin. He leaned next to the front door, smoking a cigarette. He nodded back, not saying a word. He was a good man, and normally affable. He had a blank look on his dark face, his eyes troubled. Wyatt wasn't the only one uncomfortable with my plan.

"You'll never be the same if you do this, Noel," Wyatt persisted. "Please reconsider!"

I shook my head, pushing through the front door. "I have no compunctions about doing this. It has to be done!"

I reached for the door to the bedroom. He grabbed my arm. "Doesn't mean this won't change you, Noel."

I shook him off. "It's the only way to summon Asherah." I opened the door.

To be continued...

---

The Devil's Pact Chapter 47: Deadstick

mypenname3000

Fantasy, Anal, Ass to mouth, Blowjob, Cum Swallowing, Group Sex, Lactation, Lesbian, Male / Females, Male/Female, Mind Control, Oral Sex, Pregnant, Teen Female/Teen Female, Wife

Introduction:

The Patriots grow more desperate in their attacks.

As Wormwood raged across the world, the chaos served the Tyrants interests. By January, Canada and Mexico had fallen under their control. As governments struggled to maintain control of their populations in the devastating wake of the plague, Warlocks arose. Men and Women who swore dark Pacts to Lucifer. Oppressed peoples and beleaguered governments turned to Mark and Mary Glassner. And the Tyrant's price was simple—submission.

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

Thursday, May 1st, 2014 – Mark Glassner – Air Force One, Over the Bering Sea

"My Lord," Cindy, one of my maids, said through the door to my private cabin on Air Force One, "it is time for your broadcast."

"Okay," I yawned, rubbing my eyes. I lay sandwiched between Korina and Lillian, napping after fucking both sluts. I slid out of bed; Lillian sleepily cuddled up to Korina.

The last six months since the plague had broken out had been hectic, and I was flying home after a trip to Japan. I had to deal with a Warlock that had been trying to reinstate the Bushido code, and had conquered half of Japan. He was easy enough to attend to, I challenged him to a duel, and his blade was unable to penetrate my Celestial Gold armor. After he was dead, I spent a week in Japan and brought the country into the Theocracy. Warlocks across the world had taken advantage of the plague to try and carve out their own kingdoms. While the disease seemed to have finally run its course in April, there didn't seem to be an end to these Warlocks.

I wished my wife was here, but Mary was too close to her due date. She could give birth any day now, and had to stay home. She was busying herself decorating the mansion. It had been finished right before I flew out to Japan. I'm glad it was completed before our daughter was born so she could grow up in a proper home, and not the hotel we spent the last six months living in.

Korina, April, and Violet all bore their children in April. Korina gave me a son named Silas, named after her father, and April named our daughter Andrea. Violet's daughter, Delilah, turned out to be Mary's daughter, not mine. It was pretty obvious when we saw her green eyes. Mary had been so happy when she held little Delilah. She never said anything when Silas and Andrea were born, but I knew she was just the tiniest bit jealous that other women bore me children first.

I left my two sluts to sleep and passed through the main cabin. It was full of my servants. The fifty bodyguards that protected me in foreign countries; Leah, my chauffeur; ten or so maids, the women and teens that Willow recruited through her clinic; and a few former, female Air Force officers that ran the plane's systems. All the women were bound to me and sluttily dressed; chokers about their necks. Some were sleeping on the rather comfortable seats, while others were talking quietly with each other, playing a game of cards, or watching movies on portable DVD players.

'Masters', 'my Lords', and 'sirs' followed me up the aisle and I smiled at my servants. They were all beautiful, and my cock stirred as I admired an entire plane full of women who were all more than willing to please me. The boldest women would even reach out and give my cock a stroke, smiling archly up at me.

Once through the main cabin, I climbed up a tight stairs to the plane's communication suite where three women – dressed as sexy stewardesses with very short skirts and low-cut blouses – manned the equipment. All three used to be in the Air Force, retiring to serve me and run the gear. One of the women turned in her swivel chair, her mostly bared legs crossed. She had a small, predatory smile on her doll-face, framed by platinum blonde hair.

"Sir, we're all set for you," she purred.

"Thank you, Roni," I smiled. Her full name was Veronica, but everyone called her Roni.

She stood up from her seat, her naked ass flashing before her short, navy-blue skirt fell down. I sat down, and she plopped down on my lap, wiggling her ass against me. Her blue eyes were full of heat. My cock became rock hard beneath her ass, and I gave her a kiss on the lips. She rose up, grasped my cock and sat back down, sliding my cock into her juicy cunt.

"Umm, doesn't that feel nice, sir?" she asked, squeezing her cunt on my cock.

"It's alright," I said as casually as I could.

"Hmm," she frowned, rose up, and shifted a bit. When she came down this time, my cock pushed into her tight ass. Her eyes widened, and a soft moan escaped her lips. "How about this?" she asked, her voice an octave higher.

I smiled, "That's more like it."

Roni handed me a headset, and I placed it over my head and adjusted it. Then she handed me a set of notebook cards. It was Polish written phonetically in English. I didn't know exactly what I was reading, but I knew the gist: worship Mary and me, obey our laws, do not make pacts with demons, love and respect your fellow human. Standard stuff, but if a person didn't speak English, our powers were useless on them.

Mary and I try to spend at least an hour a day doing these broadcasts, trying to put more people under our power. It worked; crime in the US has plummeted. Anyone arrested doesn't get released from jail without hearing our broadcast. All government employees had to listen to them, and public school students. There were still holdouts, of course, mostly Christians and Muslims who fled the cities for rural communes, but they were harmless and isolated. If it wasn't for Lilith and the Patriots, America would be a perfect country.

The Polish broadcast lasted 15 minutes. It was monotonous, and Roni became quite distracting before the end as she raised and lowered her tight ass on my cock, flashing saucy smiles over her shoulder, and cooing with obvious pleasure. I'm sure you could hear her moans over the broadcast.

"It'll be a few minutes before Germany is ready, sir," Roni panted, bracing herself on the console to pump her ass on my cock. "However shall we pass the time?"

"Saucy, little whore," I growled, and her grin deepened.

"For you, my Lord."

She rode my cock, moaning loudly, still bracing her hands on the console. The plane shook, hitting a patch of turbulence, and she gasped as my cock was driven deep inside her tight ass. She let the rough air do the work, bouncing up and down on my cock for a minute as I sucked on her neck above the silver choker. My hand reached around her body and shoved roughly down her bodice to grasp her ripe breast.

"Oh, my Lord!" she gasped. "Your cock is driving me crazy! Is my ass pleasing you?"

"Yes, it is, slut!" I gave her tit a squeeze; her ass tightened on my cock as I rubbed my palm across her hard nipple.

A particularly hard turbulence dropped the plane a few feet and Roni nearly came off my cock, only the very tip still stuck in her ass, before she slammed back down hard on me. "Holy shit!" she cried out. "Yes, yes! I love your cock! Gonna cum!"

"Cum, my saucy, little whore!" I growled.

"Fuck!" she howled, and her bowels became a vice as she bounced up and down on my cock. Between the turbulence and her orgasm, she thrashed wildly atop me and stoked the fire in my balls. I grabbed her and shoved her down, holding her tight as I erupted three large loads into her ass.

I gave her tit one last squeeze, and said, "Nice fuck."

"Thank you, my Lord," she panted. "Umm, they're ready for you in Germany."

"Good." I gave her ass a pinch. "Get off and..." I looked at the other two communication sluts, "Ami, come suck my cock clean."

"With pleasure, my Lord," a petite Japanese slut said, a smile on her delicate face. Like Roni, she was from the Air Force, a Forward Air Controller.

Roni grunted as she slid her ass off me and took Ami's chair. The Japanese girl knelt before me and gently licked at my dirty cock, her almond-shaped eyes looking up at me. She looked younger than her twenty-seven years, and could easily pass for a Japanese schoolgirl. She looked so cute as she daintily licked my cock, a mischievous glint in her almond-shaped eyes. Roni handed me cards written in German, and I started reading through them.

By the time I finished my first commands, Ami had sucked my cock into her tiny mouth. It was so obscene watching her suck my dirty dick into her mouth and hear her purring moan. Her tongue felt wonderful, and half-way through my third reading, I trailed off and came in her mouth. She smiled up at me, licking her lips clean. I rubbed her short, black hair affectionately.

After Germany, I did the Spanish broadcast, covering Spain and much of Central and South America. Finally finished, I yawned. There was still another five hours left in the flight, and I walked back to my cabin to get some sleep. More of my servants were sleeping as I passed through the darkened cabin. The bodyguards had earned their rest, they had to be alert most of the time in Japan, and were finally able to relax on the plane ride home.

I found Lillian and Korina awake when I entered the cabin. Korina leaned against a pile of pillows, cradling Lillian's head to her breast. Korina's doll face was contorted in pleasure as Lillian's fingers worked her cunt. Between her fluttering eyelids, I saw her blue eyes; she smiled at me.

"Umm, my breasts were getting full," Korina purred, hefting her left breast, a drop of white milk glistening on the dark red nipple. "Would you like to help, Master?"

Lillian looked up from Korina's other big teat, smiling lustily at me; white milk stained her lips. Her black hair, streaked with blue and purple highlights, fell loose about her shoulder. Normally she wore them in pigtails, but not to sleep. Silver piercings dotted her face: on her lip, her eyebrow, and nose. Both sluts were naked, wearing only their gold chokers.

As I crawled on the bed, Lillian grabbed my head and aggressively kissed me. Her mouth was full of sweet breast milk, her hand sliding wet down my torso, leaving a trail of Korina's pussy juices on her way to grasp my cock.

"Umm, doesn't she taste wonderful?" Lillian purred.

"She does," I smiled, enjoying her hand stroking my cock. "I bet she tastes even better fresh."

"She does," Lillian purred.

Together, Lillian and I each took one of Korina's large tits. The pregnancy had swelled them from her D's to DD's and her nipples became redder. I latched on, tasting a trace of her sweet milk. I sucked; Lillian's hand still pumped away on my cock, while I enjoyed Korina's warm breast milk squirting into my mouth. I nursed, reveling in the delicious flavor.

My hand slid down Korina's taut stomach, down between her legs and felt her hot, wet, and shaved cunt. "Oh, yes, Master!" Korina gasped as I slipped two fingers up inside her, probing her wet depths as she writhed on the sheets.

Lillian jerked me off faster, her hands tight silk as she rubbed up and down. Korina's arm wrapped around my head, stroking my cheek as I kept nursing, swallowing mouthfuls of her sweet milk. My thumb found her clit and she bucked, went rigid, and gasped loudly as she came. I pulled my fingers out, smeared her musky juices on her nipple, and enjoyed some pussy cream with my milk.

Somehow, sensing I was about to cum, Lillian quickly moved down; her wet mouth engulfed my cock, and I filled her with my cum. I rolled onto my back, breathing hard and feeling tired after my cum. I lazily watched Lillian crawl up Korina's body, and share my jizz with the doll-faced slut. Korina slid down the bed, and Lillian straddled her face. Korina noisily began to munch her muff. I closed my eyes, and drifted off to sleep to the sweet sounds of women making love.

Noel Heinrich – Unalaska Island

The wind was cold, whipping off the Bering Sea as we stood on the lichen covered rocks of Unalaska Island, one of the larger islands of the Aleutians. I gripped a pair of binoculars, scanning the sky to the southeast, looking for Mark Glassner's plane. It would be easy to spot, since it was being escorted by a squadron of F-22 Raptors and accompanied by several C-130s and a KC-130.

"Where is his plane?" Davin asked. "I'm freezing my dick off."

I glanced at the heavy-set, shivering, African American. "Why didn't you wear a jacket?"

"Didn't think it would be this cold, Noel. It's May for Christ sake. He better show up soon!"

"Maybe they had a headwind," I suggested. Mark was flying back from Japan, and his flight path should take him over the Aleutians pretty close to where we were. We knew what time he took off from Tokyo; he should be flying over any minute now.

Mark had to be stopped. Soon. America was a shadow of its former self. Once we were strong and independent—we had freedom. Now most of the Country meekly did whatever he said. They were just drones, happy to follow his commands. There was no passion, no heart or soul anymore, just polite people. Mark had robbed the Nation of its will. Despair had broken my heart.

For sixth months we have been trying to kill Mark, and failed every time. He was powerful. He had more tricks up his sleeve then any of us were ready for. Even in the chaos of the plague, our best attempts had failed. We came close in February to taking out Mary, but we only managed to kill a few of their bodyguards.

Every day our cause grew more desperate. If one of their Thralls – and that was three-quarters of the country at this point – saw a person using magic, they would immediately call the Warlock 1-800 number and turn you in. Many of us lost loved ones during the Plague because we couldn't heal them without exposing ourselves. And despite our careful precautions, they were tracking us down one-by-one. Alison and Desiree, with their commando squads, were roaming the nation, capturing or killing any Warlocks they found. Ten of us had already been eliminated by those two whores.

"There they are," Wyatt said. He was my old mentor from my FBI days, as well as my second-in-command of the Patriots. He had been very successful in the private security market, and his fortune helped to bankroll our operations.

I grabbed my binoculars and spotted the approaching planes. We wouldn't have much time. The brazier was already lit; a greasy, black smoke rose thickly into the air. Drawn around the brazier was a circle and a pentagram along with many Hebrew markings—a summoning circle.

"Aerials, I summon you!" I shouted, mouthing the formula we found in De Operatione Daemonum. "Cloak your forms in smoke and appear before me!"

The smoke twitched, swirled about, forming into a black vortex. It grew wider and wider, then crashed into an invisible wall—the edge of the circle. A piercing, roaring howl grew and grew, full of anger and frustration as it pounded against the wall. The vortex swirled faster, then begun to break apart into smaller and smaller vortexes, contracting and shaping into vicious beings. The air crackled and eyes formed, white-yellow lightning. There were dozen of them, howling and chittering like monkeys as they swirled about the circle.

"Release us!" they boomed like thunder in one voice.

"I have a task for you," I answered, putting all the authority and confidence I could muster into my voice.

"Release us! The pain!"

"No! You can rot in that circle!"

"What is your task?" their multitude voice snarled.

I pointed to the sky. "Take down Mark Glassner's plane!"

Muttered hisses crackled in the circle. "Agreed! Release us!"

I swiped my foot through the circle, breaking the plane. The Aerials, like a swarm of vaporous monkeys, shot into the air, cackling with laughter. There were innocent people on his plane, but I hardly felt any guilt. Anger had burned away my conscience. Freedom had its price. I was more than willing to pay it.

In fact, I already had. My hands could still feel the garrote.

Mark – Air Force One

A metallic, tearing sound shuddered through the plane, dragging me up from sleep. The plane rocked violently and fear clutched my heart. Korina hugged me tightly, panic shining in her blue eyes. I struggled to get up, tangled by my slut's panicked limbs.

"What's going on?" I muttered. There was another ripping noise and the plane shook violently.

"Everyone fasten your seatbelts," Joslyn barked over the plane's PA. "We're experiencing some mechanical difficulty."

As I headed for the door, there was another violent shake and I was thrown into the wall. "Fuck," I muttered; a long cut oozed blood on my forearm.

The door banged open, reveling a pale looking 27. She was in command of the bodyguards on this trip; 51 was too far along in her pregnancy to travel. "Sir, there's...something on the wings, ripping off pieces of the plane," she said, sounding calmer than she looked.

"What?"

"Spectre." The code word for minor demons—a Patriot attack. "Made of smoke, we haven't seen these kinds before. They're ripping the plane apart."

I followed her up the fuselage, gripping the sides of chairs to stay upright as the plane shook and shimmied violently. Peering out of a porthole window, I saw what looked like smoke monkeys tearing into the wing, and more were on the cowl of the engines. Black smoke issued from one engine. Was the plane on fire? Adrenaline surged through me, a cold wave that sent my heart beating frantically.

"We need to get out there!" I exclaimed. "Shoot out the windows or something!"

"The plane's going too fast and we're too high up!" 27 objected. "A living person can't go out there. And even if we could hold on despite the speed, we can't breath at this altitude!"

No-one living could. "Tsalmaveth!"

The temperature in the plane dropped as the silvery mist sprang up and twenty-one figures coalesced out of the fog. Thanks to the Patriots, another six of my bodyguards fell defending Mary and my little sister in February.

"Master," Chasity greeted with a smile. With her blue eyes, blonde hair, and Nordic cheekbones, she was the spitting image of a Valkyrie. "We'll sweep these vermin off the plane." Ten ghosts went right, and ten others went left, passing through the hull of the plane out onto the wings. Karen stayed with me.

I bent down, staring intently through the window as the ghosts fired their silver 9mm's at the smoke monkeys. Through the airplane's fuselage, their gunshots sound like small pops. None of the spirits – or the smoke monkeys for that matter – seemed affected by the 500 mph wind rushing by them. Even when the plane would rise up and down in the air as the pilots struggled to keep us flying, the ghosts stayed in the same place on the wing like their feet were glued to it.

"Aerials," Karen said, bending down next to me. "Lesser demons of air, Master."

"Where did they come from?" I asked the ghost.

"From one of the the islands we're flying over." Karen concentrated. "Unalaska Island. But the summoners have already fled."

"The Patriots?"

Karen nodded.

Every time a silver bullet struck one of the smokey aerials whatever force animated their vapors let go, and a small cloud of black would zoom away from the plane. The aerials seemed to ignore the ghosts, instead focusing on ripping apart the plane.

"Why don't they fight back?" I wondered.

"They weren't ordered to," Karen explained. "They were only commanded to bring down the plane."

The right wing was cleared by the time Karen finished talking, and I crossed the fuselage to peer out at the left wing. Huge chunks of it were missing, exposing the hydraulics and wires of the wing's innards. I didn't see any of the aerials. The ghosts were firing at the back of the plane now.

Karen stuck her head through the side of the plane. "There's a few more on the tail."

I heard worry in her words. "What?"

"There's a missing elevator, Master." She looked at me with concern. "You should buckle up."

I swallowed, sitting down and strapping in. 27 sat next to me and I reached out and grabbed her hand; she squeezed me back. The plane dropped, diving forward for a moment, the engines whining in protest. Everyone screamed, including me. The plane leveled for a moment, then pitched up and down rapidly, the fuselage groaning under the stress.

"It's not that bad, dieing," Karen said with a comforting smile, sitting down on my lap, hugging me with her cold body. "It's like falling asleep."

Joslyn – Air Force One

"Mayday, mayday, mayday!" I calmly broadcast over the radio, fighting with the control stick, pulling the plane out of the steep dive. I glanced at the altimeter, 20,750 and descending, but not as fast as we had a minute ago. "This is Air Force One declaring an emergency!"

"Copy your Mayday, this is Anchorage control! What is the emergency?" It was reassuring hearing how calm the air traffic controller sounded.

"I have one dead engine, and multiple control surfaces damaged, descending through angels twenty."

"Engine three is on fire," Lydia reported, reaching for the flashing red knob and pulling the fire extinguisher.

"Feather three," I ordered, my hands gripping the yoke with a death grip. My right thumb keyed the radio button on the yoke, "Air Force One; we've lost a second engine. We need a bearing to the nearest runway."

"Copy that, Air Force One," Anchorage control responded. "Turn to heading 47, you're 102 miles out from Anchorage."

Shit! "We'll try to hold it in the air that long. We've achieved stable flight for the moment."

"Copy that. Coast guard has been advised and is sending a cutter if you have to put it down in the water."

I glanced at Lydia. "Throttle up."

"Raider 3 to Air Force One, your plane has been swept clean of the...uh...gremlins," one of the F-22 pilots reported. "Be advised, you are missing the port elevator and I see a lot of damage to your flaps. Good luck."

"Thank you, Raider 3."

Ten years of flying planes, training in simulators, and I never thought I'd actually have to worry about gremlins ripping my plane apart. If it wasn't for all my training, I would be falling apart right now. I glanced at my co-pilot, and she was as pale-faced as I felt.

I keyed up the PA, "We're heading to Anchorage for an emergency landing. It's twenty minutes out; we may be ditching in the ocean."

Things went relatively smooth for the next ten minutes. My heart never once stopped hammering as my eyes kept checking the PFD and EICAS panels every second. I had the yoke in a death grip, fighting to keep the plane leveled. There was a loud, shuddering clunk and then the warning lights started flashing—fire in engine one. Lydia quickly pulled the fire extinguisher and feathered the engine. I couldn't take my hands off the yoke, or we'd pitch down into the ocean.

The last engine whined, damaged by those fucking gremlins, and we slowed down. The whine seemed to grow worse and worse; the intake fan blades must have been damaged. Maybe a piece of the wing had been sucked inside. Ahead, the coast of Alaska grew larger and larger, the Alaska Range towering beyond, white and gray above the green forest. We crossed over land, coming closer and closer to safety.

Engine four gave one last, loud whine, then went silent. The only sound in the cockpit were the many warning alarms. "Are we gliding?" Lydia asked.

"Yes. Pitch for glide," I ordered.

Lydia reached for the hydraulic controls and extended the flaps, maximizing our wing surface as we glided in. It was all up to inertia now. If we had enough air speed we could make it to the airport. Our altitude started dropping faster.

"There's the airport," Lydia reported.

I keyed the radio, "Air Force One to Anchorage Tower."

"We see you, Air Force One," the tower controller radioed. "You're coming in a little shallow. Recommended you throttle up a bit."

"We are deadstick, Anchorage." No engines, no power.

"Well...uh...good luck, Air Force One."

"Gear down."

The ground was rushing up fast. The calm, monotone computer's voice announced our Above Ground Level: "500. 400. 300. 200."

I glanced at the PFD; our airspeed was 173 knots. Too fast; a rough landing. Since we were coming in shallow, I wasn't sure if we were going to land on the runway, or in the grass before it, so I couldn't afford to slow down. "Assume brace position," I ordered through the PA.

"100. 50. 40."

I flared the plane and we touched down hard, the yoke jerking in my grasp. We both started flipping the air brakes, and I pushed on the break pedal. The plane squealed across the runway, the terminal growing larger and larger. We weren't slowing down enough; we didn't have the engines, so there were no reverse thrusters to help slow us down. And the end of the runway was coming up fast.

A loud, metallic, shearing sound shivered through the fuselage; the plane lurched suddenly to the left, off the runway. The plane's wheels hit the dirt, and the front landing gear folded. The nose dropped, and pushed into the ground. Clods of dirt and grass flew up like the bow wave of a ship, and we came to a shuddering stop.

"I think we're alive," Lydia breathed. She looked out her window. "Holy shit! Half the right wing sheared off."

I swallowed. That's why we lurched left, only the left wing had been providing drag. If the wing had failed while we were still airborne, we would all have died. I let go of the yoke and my hands shook as I massaged my palms. Off in the distance sirens blared, rescue coming.

Mark – Mall Field, WA

The backup VIP plane touched down safely at Mall Field, a new airport built by the Army Core of Engineers. With Seattle fallen to Lilith, Boeing Field was in her hands and Sea-Tac lay too close, so we had the airport built where the South Hill Mall used to lay before being bulldozed down last December. We had claimed most of South Hill for the Theocracy, as our empire was being called, moving out the residents. We were pouring resources into building up the seat of our government. Mall Field was half completed; temporary buildings had been erected to serve as the hangar and terminals, and only one runway had been constructed so far.

No-one was seriously injured in our crash landing in Anchorage, and within the hour we were airborne on the backup plane, an almost identical version of Air Force One. It was part of the fleet of planes that traveled with me, ready in case something went wrong with the main plane. The remaining flight down to Washington State was thankfully uneventful.

"Mark!" Mary shouted, waddling as fast as her pregnancy would allow.

I hugged her gently, cautious of her round belly pressing against me and not wanting to hurt our unborn daughter, then I kissed her and rested a hand on her belly. Mary's hand rested on mine, and baby Chasity gave a kick. "She's as excited to see you as I am," my wife laughed.

I smiled, and wrapped my arm around her shoulder.

The women traveling with me were greeted by their loved ones. Leah was wrapped-up into a three way hug with her spouses, Jacob and Rachel, and one of the maids hugged her husband, who worked maintenance on our planes. Not wanting to split up couples, we found work for any of the maids' or other employees' spouses. Xiu embraced Korina warmly; the two sluts had become close the last few months. Violet found her girlfriend Cindy, one of the maids who accompanied me. April watched the pair with a disgusted look on her face.

From what I gathered, Violet and April started dating last August, but it all fell apart in February when Violet was caught cheating on April with Cindy. Since then, April has spent many nights crying on Mary's lap.

Jessica gave me a warm hug and a kiss, followed by April. Alison and Desiree weren't here, they must be out hunting down Warlocks. They only stopped in once every few weeks; both women had changed, becoming more graceful, lean, and confident, but there was a hard edge to them. After Desiree's rape by Brandon last September, both had a bitter hatred of other Warlocks.

"Welcome back, Master," Violet smiled, pointedly ignoring April, and throwing her arms around my neck and kissing me.

Mary, the sluts, and I piled into the back of one of our armored limos, with Mary cuddling up next to me. April and Violet, shooting each other dirty glances, sat as far apart as possible. I was getting tired of it. I wanted my sluts to love each other. "April, Violet."

"Yes, Master," they said, almost in unison, then glared at each other.

"I want you two to sit next to each other." Neither looked pleased as the sluts rearranged themselves. "Now, you both are slut-sisters, and it's time you forgave each other."

"Why do I need to forgive her?" April pouted. "She cheated on me."

"I'm sorry," Violet whispered. "It's just there's something really special about Cindy. I didn't want to hurt you or disappoint you. I still care about you."

"Whatev," April muttered.

"April, she can't help whom she falls in love with," Mary gently said. "You'll meet someone special and understand. I've seen the way Hayfa looks at you." Hayfa was one of Willow's nurses, a willowy Arab woman who made the most delightful moans when she cums.

April glanced at Violet, and sighed. "Fine, I'm sorry for being a bitch to you."

"And I'm really sorry for the pain I caused you," Violet answered. "I just... I didn't want to disappoint you, but I ended up making it worse."

"I think you two should kiss," I said.

Violet turned to April, staring cutely at her and stroking April's bushy, brown hair, then she caught April's chin and kissed her on the lips. April sat stiffly for a moment, then she relaxed and kissed Violet back. I loved watching my two cute, innocent, schoolgirl sluts kissing.

April licked her lips when they broke the kiss. "Did you ever love me, Violet?"

"I thought I did, but then I met Cindy," Violet answered, a smile blossoming on her lips. "Whenever I saw her, my heart would thud so loud, and whenever we're apart I would think about her. I was happy just being in her presence. We didn't have to be making love, or even talking; just being in the same room was enough. I realized I just lusted for you, April."

"Wow," April whispered. "That sound so intense."

"It is," Violet answered. "It's like she...um..."

"Completes you?" Mary asked, and smiled fondly at me. As corny as it sounded, I couldn't help but smile back at my wife.

"Yeah," Violet grinned.

"Now that you two have made up," I smiled. "Show me just how much you love each other."

Violet gave a wicked grin, then she deftly unbuttoned April's white blouse – she was dressed as a naughty schoolgirl – and exposed her full breasts and dark nipples. A bead of milk formed as Violet caressed her nipple, then bent down and sucked some of the nerdy slut's sweet, motherly liquid.

"Oh, yes!" April sighed.

Mary rubbed my hard shaft, then reached across my lap and grasped Xiu's nipple piercing, yanking the Asian slut towards my shaft. Xiu gasped and smiled, then sucked my cock into her lips. I kissed my wife – she always liked to see that I was getting satisfaction – then I went back to watching the cute teens as I enjoyed my slut's sucking mouth.

Violet, also dressed as a naughty schoolgirl, had her blouse open now. Her breasts, still tiny A cups, beaded with milk as she nursed April's C cups. April had swelled up two cup sizes with her pregnancy, but Violet's had barely grown at all, though she could still produce as much milk as Korina. April gasped as Violet fingered her pussy beneath her red-and-green tartan skirt. The limo was filled with the heady aroma of pussy and the sweet scent of breast milk.

April pulled Violet's mouth up, and kissed her milk-filled mouth with passion, white liquid running down their chins. Watching one woman taste her own breast milk on another woman's lips was fucking hot, and I almost came in Xiu's mouth. The nerdy slut kissed down Violet's neck; it was her turn to taste Violet's breast milk. She cooed, running her hands through April's bushy, brown hair. April's cheeks hollowed as she nursed hard, bringing moans of delight from Violet.

"Yes, yes! Suckle, April! Drink my motherly love! I love it!"

"Oh, Mistress!" moaned Korina.

I looked over to see my wife nursing at Korina's heavy tit while the doll-faced slut fingered my wife's pussy. I grinned; this was the life! Lillian knelt before April and grasped a nipple, and sucked at the nerdy slut's tit, drinking her breast milk with noisy gulps.

Mary suddenly turned, milk on her lips, and kissed me. Sweet milk and her agile tongue filled my lips. It was too much. I came. Xiu swallowed, sucking the last of my cum from my dick as I kissed my wife and savored my slut's breast milk. I couldn't wait to try Mary's. My wife gasped into my lips, quivering beside me as her climax rippled through her.

Violet and April gasped and panted, taking turns nursing each other until they exploded on the other's fingers. They leaned together, panting, milk leaking from their red nipples and running white down their bodies. I leaned over and licked a trail up from each of them. Their breast milk all tasted slightly different: Korina was very sweet, April was mild, and Violet's had a richer flavor.

The limo turned onto the gravel driveway – only temporary – that led to our mansion. It was an imposing structure, made of dark wood and stone with a huge porch supported by basalt pillars, reminiscent of government buildings. It was three stories tall, with two, long wings, only two stories tall, flanking the sides. Gardeners were everywhere, landscaping the grounds, and stopped to kneel as our limo passed. Most of the gardeners were men that were boyfriends or husbands of the various women that served us: the maids, bodyguards, and technical staff.

A pair of maids waited on the porch and opened the door to the limo. "Master, Mistress," they purred, curtsying. They were all so lovely, and I admired their breasts through their mesh bodices. I climbed out first, then helped my pregnant wife.

"Looking good," I said as we walked in.

Mary had been busy decorating: paintings, vases, statues, and other art objects decorated the hallway as we headed to the east wing and our suite. We had our own living room at the entrance to our suite, a huge bathroom with a jacuzzi – those had become Mary's best friend in the last trimester of her pregnancy – a spacious bedroom, an office for me, an art studio for Mary, and a nursery for our soon-to-be born daughter.

The moment we entered our suite, Mary turned and kissed me with passion, her tongue eagerly probing my mouth. Her arms wrapped around my neck, hugging me tightly, and my hands found the hem of her dark-blue maternity dress, hiking it up and giving her plump ass a squeeze. It had been a week since I'd seen my wife, and we were both missing each other. We shared our dreams, but it was more satisfying in the flesh.

Mary broke the kiss so I could pull her dress over her head, then I took a step back to admire her naked body. She looked radiant. Despite her large, round stomach, she wasn't fat, and her skin had a lustrous shine to it. Her breasts were full, still perky, her areolas had grown larger, and a red tint darkened her dusky nipples.

"So beautiful," I whispered.

"Even when I'm all fat and ugly?" she asked.

"You are not ugly. I missed you so much, Mare."

She smiled, and asked, "Even with all those hot, little Japanese schoolgirls begging to be fucked?"

"Well, they did help ease my loneliness," I said with a grin. "I should have brought a few home."

"Yes, you should have," she smiled. "I expect you to make it up to me."

"Yes, ma'am."

I kissed her, than picked her up and carried her to our bedroom, and gently set her down on the bed. Her hands found my cock and stroked it as she laid on her back. "Umm, I need a cock in me."

"I think I can help with that."

I laid down next to her, kissing her, my tongue probing her sweet mouth. I carefully leaned over her to keep my weight off her stomach, her hard nipples pressing against my chest. Her lips were wet, and very playful as she kissed me and nibbled on my lips, using her tongue to play with mine. I could feel some of the tension from the attack melt away. Her kisses grew more passionate as my left hand roamed her body. Her skin was silk and I enjoyed touching her all over, before my hand found her full breast, and gave it a squeeze.

"Mmm, I need you in me," Mary purred, rolling onto her side.

Making love with a pregnant wife could be awkward, and we found it was most comfortable for Mary on her side. I grabbed a pillow and she slipped it under her stomach for support, then I spooned her from behind, her legs parting, and my hard shaft rubbed through her waxed pussy lips. I found the right angle, and drove slowly into her, savoring her tight pussy and her sweet moans.

"I missed your cunt," I whispered in her ear as I slowly thrust into her sheath.

She grabbed my hand and brought it up to her breast, right on her hard nipple. I rubbed her nub, nuzzling at her neck. "Ohh, Mark! Umm, stir me up with your big cock." I smiled; Mary loved to talk about my big cock, even if it wasn't that big of a dick. I drove it into her a little harder, and she gasped, pressing back into me.

I sucked at her neck as her cunt massaged my cock, and listened to her moans. I rolled her nipple between my fingers, and felt a little moisture on my finger as some colostrum – first milk – leaked out. Mary rolled her hips, awkwardly fucking me back; the pitch of her moans went up an octave. She was nearing an orgasm, and I slipped my hand from her breast down between her legs; I found her hard clit nestled in her damp folds.

"Yes, yes, yes! Oh, Mark! Oh, God, yes!" she cried out as she orgasmed, her cunt becoming a vice on my cock as her back arched back into me. "Umm, you did good, stud," she purred over her shoulder at me, dimples appearing in her cheeks as she smiled.

I leaned over and kissed her lips, still driving my cock into her, my fingers still diddling her little pearl. "I bet I can make you cum harder."

"Um, then you better start fucking me harder, my randy stallion!"

"Naughty filly!" I growled, and slammed my cock hard into her pussy.

"Oh, God, keep doing that and I'll explode!" she cried out. "Fuck me!"

My groin slapped against her ass, my cock enjoying every inch of her hot, velvety hole as it slid in and out. My finger ground a hard circle on her clit, lubed by her juices. The sweet, spicy scent of her arousal filled my nose, filling me with a heady, almost drunk feeling and spurring me to fuck her harder and harder. I was close to cumming, so I worked her clit harder. Every time I pinched her little nub, her cunt gave a pleasant squeeze on my cock.

"Fuck me, stud, fuck me!" Mary howled. "Make me cum! Ride your filly hard!"

I rode her hard. She exploded on me, her juices drenching my groin as her cunt convulsed on my cock, sucking the cum right out of my balls. "Fucking hell!" I grunted as I unloaded in her spasming sheath.

We were a sweaty mess as we cuddled on the bed, breathing heavily, and just enjoying each other's presence. I gently kissed and nuzzled her neck, brushing errant strands of auburn hair off her drenched cheeks. My hands slid up, and I massaged her shoulders.

"Ohh, that's nice," Mary sighed.

"How's your back?" I asked her.

"Sore." I slid away from her and started kneading my way down her back. "Lower," she murmured. I complied, working the strain out of her lower back. "I think you missed your true calling."

"What? As a masseuse?" I asked.

She gave a peal of laughter. "You're not a woman, Mark."

I frowned. "What?"

"It's a masseur when it's a man," she giggled. "And no, I was thinking of a gigolo after that fucking you just gave me. Emm, it was nice."

I laughed. "You weren't half bad yourself."

"Ohh, what are you saying, that I'm a whore?"

I froze. "Um, no, I didn't mean..."

She was laughing, a teasing look on her face. She rolled slowly over to face me, stroking my muscular chest, her smile fading. "You still feel tense. Lie on your stomach."

Mary straddled my ass as I laid on my stomach, and she started giving me a massage, her hands surprisingly strong as she dug into my muscles. "Do you want to talk about what happened?" Mary asked, softly.

"The Patriots attacked," I shrugged. "It happens all too often."

"You've never felt this tense after one of their attacks."

"I was helpless," I admitted. "Just sitting in my seat as we limped back into Anchorage. The plane was shaking, the engines on fire. Joslyn thought we might have to ditch in the water." I could feel the memory of that helpless terror bubbling up. "With all my powers, there was absolutely nothing I could do. I couldn't fix the plane. I certainly couldn't fly it. Fuck, Mare, it seemed like an eternity before we landed. All I could do was hold 27's hand."

"Shh, it's okay," she soothed, and I realized I was shaking.

"What if I had died, then you'd..." my voice trailed off. When Mary had made her Pact, she tied her life to mine. I had wished to live a long, healthy life and maybe that's why I've had so many close calls. But I never specified how long I wanted to live. Just a long life. Demons were crafty bastards, and it's possible I could die tomorrow and the Devil could just claim that he thought eleven months was a long life for a mortal.

"We're going to hell when we die, aren't we?" Mary's voice was full of fright.

"Probably," I answered. "We made our choice, and one day the bill's going to come due."

"What if there was a way to be immortals?" she asked, digging into my back. "If we never die, we never have to pay the price."

"How?"

"I had Sam look into it after Brandon's attack," she explained. "The Magicks of the Witch of Endor hinted at the spell. Well, last night she called. She found the Eylowm ritual in the Dead Sea Scrolls." Mary swallowed. "It involves our daughter."

"Oh." Our daughter?

"Because you're a guy. Like how you have to use your mom for the Zimmah spell. So when she grows up..."

"I see."

"I'm sure she'll want to," she quickly added. "And since I've tied my life to yours, well, we'll both benefit."

"So nothing could kill us? That seems a little powerful."

"Well, there is one person that could," Mary admitted. "But I don't see what could make our daughter want to kill you."

"Okay," I answered. I smiled; we could sidestep the whole issue entirely. We just had to survive at least another sixteen years.

"What are we going to do about this new attack?" Mary asked after a moment of silence. "Should we abandon plane travel?"

"We need to speak to Sam. We have to find a way to keep those aerials off the plane."

"I'll have...ohhh..."

"What's wrong, Mare?"

"Oh, nothing, I think little Chasity's excited, she's sure...um..." I glanced over my shoulder, and Mary had a grimace of pain on her face. "Just some cramps."

"Do you need anything?" I asked her.

"No, no, I'm fine."

She kept massaging me, sliding down my ass as she kneaded my lower back. Mary groaned again. "Um, hun," she said, a little excitement in her voice.

"Yeah?"

"I think I'm going into labor."

I blinked at her. "What?" I asked, my mind suddenly racing a mile a minute.

"Yeah, I'm in labor."

"Right. We need to...um...what?" My mind was completely blank. Women in labor go somewhere. I should know this.

"The hospital," Mary offered.

"Of course. Right, the hospital." Then I smiled. "We're having a baby."

Sam Soun – Jerusalem, Israel

I yawned, careful not to exhale on the fragile scroll fragment before me. I sat in the study room in the Shrine of the Book, the wing of the Israel Museum built to house the Dead Sea Scrolls. It was a clean room, with atmospheric controls to keep the humidity, temperature, and pressure at just the right values to preserve the delicate books.

" We...the knowledge...the hidden room...behind the red rock." is what I thought the scrap of Aramaic read. There were several holes in the parchment, leaving the text incomplete. The Aramaic word used for 'hidden room' shared its roots with the Hebrew word Matmown. There had a been a number of fragmented texts pointing to a hidden vault somewhere. This was the first scrap that was intact enough to read a location.

"Candy, do you have the survey maps for Qumran?" I asked.

Candy pulled out her I-pad and tapped it a few times. "Here it is."

I glanced at the screen, looking for anything that might be a red rock. I touched the screen at a large boulder on the survey map listed as red sandstone. "Did they ever do any ultrasounds or excavations in this quadrant?"

Candy frowned, and started reading through the notes. "No, it's pretty far from any of the caves. About a kilometer from cave 5. Why?"

"I think we need to take some survey equipment out there," I told her. "I have a hunch that there's something there."

"I'll go make the arrangements," Candy smiled, and gave me a brief kiss on the lips, before turning back.

I rubbed my lower back, stretched, and pulled the next scroll fragment and began translating the faded Aramaic.

Friday, May 2nd, 2014 – Mark Glassner – Good Sam Hospital

At 12:03 AM our daughter was born.

She was so beautiful. 7 lb 2 oz and 16 inches long. Mary had been in labor seven hours, and we were both so happy to finally hold her, wrapped in her pink blanket. She was so light, and I kept staring into her face. She was so tiny, so cute, her little hands balled up into fists.

Chasity Alberta Glassner.

Mary smiled fondly at me as she rested on the bed, watching me pace back and forth, gently rocking our daughter. I missed my other two children's birth, but she was special. She was my daughter with Mary. She had my deep-blue eyes, and her mother's cute nose and auburn hair. The whole family had paraded in; both of our mothers had their turns holding Chasity, along with our sisters and Mary's dad.

Little Chasity started crying and I froze, not sure what to do. I glanced at Mary. "Maybe she's finally hungry?" she asked.

"Yeah," I said, and gently handed my newborn to my wife.

Mary unbuttoned her gown, exposing her full breast and gently placed our daughter to her teat. A huge smile blossomed on her face. "She sucking, Mark." There were tears glistening in her emerald eyes as she smiled down at Chasity.

I climbed on the bed next to my wife, cuddling with her and resting my head on her shoulder as I watched our beautiful daughter nurse. "We made her," I whispered in awe. "Our own little miracle. And we didn't have to use any dark powers to do it."

Wednesday, May 5th, 2014 – Noel Heinrich – Patriot Headquarters, Montana

"Innocents are going to die," Wyatt pointed out as I went over my plan.

"They always do," I admitted sadly. Innocents already had.. At least one. I touched the sword resting on the table. It was never far away, not after the cost... I pushed that memory out of my mind; dwelling on it wouldn't help. "It's our last chance to do something."

"We could try summoning demons again," Wyatt countered.

"If those demons we summoned couldn't crash his plane, what chance do they have against him on the ground?" I asked.

"None," Wyatt admitted, a frown creasing his weathered face. "We should wait for another opportunity. One where there won't be crowds."

"When?"

"I don't know. What's his schedule looking like?"

I shrugged. "This is the only public appearance scheduled for a month. Our attacks have driven him to be secretive."

"Then let's wait and see what his next appearance is like," Wyatt cautioned. "The golems are indiscriminate."

"And what happens if they find us?" I asked. Who'd have ever thought Alison and Desiree would be leading commando teams and hunting us down. Slutty, little Alison. Our members had been scattered about, supposedly safe thanks to our wish to mask our auras, but those two had killed a dozen of us.

"We fall back into the shadow," Wyatt answered stubbornly. "They'll never find the fall-back site. It's not even in this country."

"We're being hunted down like dogs. Those bitches of his keep finding us no matter how well we hide. Half the world is already part of his damned Theocracy, and I bet in a year he will have his fist around the entire planet." I slammed my fist on the table. "We swore to do whatever it took to save America, to save the World! Do you want to back out now?"

Wyatt sighed. "Fine. God help us, we'll unleash the golems tomorrow."

I snorted, "God can't help us. He already failed to stop him."

Tomorrow, Mark Glassner's blood would water Liberty's tree.

Alison de la Fuentes

I was crouched on a low ridge overlooking a ranch in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, Montana. This morning, my dowsing had led my team of commandos and me here; the next Warlock for us to capture or eliminate. And not just one; according to the dowsing, there were multiple warlocks here. At least a dozen.

I hadn't spotted any Warlocks, but I had seen three Thralls with the auraculars, the enchanted binoculars Sam whipped up last November before she jetted off to Israel. They mimicked the Mowdah spell, allowing me to see auras like Master and Mistress.

You should be with Master, my subconscious whispered. I did wish I could be with Master and Mistress all the time, but this was too important. The Warlocks had to be stopped before they could hurt more people, so I ignored that voice like I had the last six months I had spent hunting the bastards down.

So far I had only see the three Thralls, all carrying heavy weapons, patrolling the collected buildings of the sheep ranch. They all looked military or law enforcement, and I had an excited feeling in my stomach. I think I just hit the jackpot!

"Mi Sirenita," a beautiful voice whispered behind me.

I turned, and smiled to see that my wife had crawled up the hill. She was wearing scrub camos and looked more than a little butch. She joined me on the hill and I gave her a passionate kiss. It was a little awkward kissing her while we lay on our bellies, but I hadn't seen her since baby Chasity's birth last week. I missed my wife. Our prolonged separation had been rough, but there were just so many Warlocks that needed to be put down.

If you just stopped hunting Warlocks and went back to Master, you'd see her all the time. I was really tempted to listen to my subconscious, but our work was necessary.

"What is so important?" Desiree asked. "I was close to a Warlock in Portland." There was a hard edge in her voice. Desiree positively hated Warlocks.

"I think I found the Patriot's headquarters." I couldn't contain the excitement in my voice. "I've taken out enough Patriots to recognize their phony Thrall auras. I've seen three on guard, and I have a predator drone orbiting overhead. Infrared shows another ten or so people milling around in the house."

Desiree peered at the ranch with her auraculars. "Hmm, maybe. What's up with all the statues?"

One of the yards was filled with what looked like over a hundred statues that were roughly human-shaped, but built like tanks, and looked to stand nearly ten feet tall. They were made of the same red clay that was underneath all the grass in the area; there was a large pit in a field that had been dug out. I had no idea why they would build them. Cover for their base? Some sort of terracotta statue business?

"I'm not sure," I admitted. "But if this is the Patriots, we have the chance to obliterate them!"

"So a joint operation?" Desiree asked.

"Yeah," I smiled. "Sounds fun, huh."

"Hmm, it sure does."

To be continued...

---

The Devil's Pact Chapter 48: The Patriot's Blood

mypenname3000

Fantasy, Anal, Blowjob, Cum Swallowing, Female/Female, Lactation, Lesbian, Male/Teen Female, Males / Females, Mind Control, Pregnant, Teen Male/Teen Female, Toys, Violence, Wife

Introduction:

Alison and Desiree have found the Patriot's headquarters as the terrorist are about to unleash a devastating attack on Mark and Mary.

For those of us that remained free of the Tyrants' control, one of the great mysteries of their rule was the Patriots. They had appeared almost immediately to challenge Mark and Mary. From their first assassination attempt in Washington D.C., to their spectacular attack in February of 2014 that left dozens dead in the streets of Tacoma, the Patriots had been a constant thorn in the Tyrants' side. So why did they mysteriously vanish after almost crashing Mark's plane on May 1st, 2014?

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

Thursday, May 6th, 2014 – Mark Glassner – The Mansion

"Are you ready, Chase?" I asked my week old daughter. I was using that high-pitched voice everyone seemed to use when talking to infants; I just couldn't help myself; she was so cute and beautiful. Chase, as we had started calling her, cooed and stared up at me with her blue eyes. "I wonder what mommy is doing? Huh, do you want to go see?"

Chase gurgled.

"That's what I thought, kiddo." I kissed her forehead, and walked into Mary's dressing room. My wife was naked, applying her make-up. Her auburn hair fell in a full, curly mass about her shoulders. "Looks like Mommy isn't ready yet, even though we have to leave in fifteen minutes."

Mary glared at me over her shoulder, her expression softening when she saw Chase. "Mommy needs to look like a Goddess," she said in that high-pitched, sing-song voice. "Daddy just needs to not look like a slob."

I feasted on my wife's body. You could hardly tell Mary had even been pregnant. Between her Gift and her Pact, her body had quickly returned to its youthful, flawless beauty. Though her breasts were still a cup size larger, heavy with sweet milk. In fact, that was the first thing my daughter and I had in common—we both loved Mary's milk.

I admired my wife as she pulled dark-black, thigh-high stockings up her pale legs, then stepped into her deep-blue dress, and pulled it up her body. It was strapless, and would leave the majority of her freckled breasts bare. "Can you zip me?" she asked.

I handed Chase to her, and Mary cooed happily at our daughter as I zipped her up. Chase was a happy baby during the day; at night, however, she was the opposite. I yawned; I had to spend an hour last night walking up and down the halls with our fussy daughter before she fell back to sleep. I could have had a maid do it, but I wanted to be her father, and that meant getting little sleep so I could take care of her.

"Today is your special day," Mary cooed in a high-pitched, singsong voice. "You're going to meet your worshipers, and they are going to just love you."

The Cunningham twins were building the main Church of the Living Gods in downtown Puyallup, but for the moment they had repurposed a nearby Christian megachurch. Many Christian churches were being transformed into Living Churches as the number of Christians in America plummeted. With so many new converts over the last five months, many of our original worshipers had founded their own congregations across the country, our Missionaries.

As we walked through the hallways of the mansion, maids would pause from their cleaning to curtsy, and I let my eyes admire their fine bosoms on display in their transparent blouses, and maybe reach under a ruffled skirt to give a bare ass a squeeze. Outside, our limo awaited in the middle of a convoy made up of black SUV's carrying several squads of bodyguards. More bodyguards would already be down at the church making sure everything was secure.

"There's my Granddaughter," Sean, Mary's father, cooed, taking Chase from my wife.

Both of our families were coming to the ceremony. Sean stood at the heart of his family: his very pregnant wife Tiffany; his two daughters, Missy and Shannon; their boyfriends Damien and George; and the family's sex slaves. Dawn belonged to Missy, Starla to George and Shannon, Mrs. Corra to Damien, and Felicity to Sean and Tiffany. It was still surprising to see Felicity; nearly a year ago Mary had given the teenage girl to her father, and then Sean had freed her. I never thought to see her again, but a month ago she showed up, begging to be Sean's slave again.

"Don't hog her," my mom said to Sean, a big smile on her face as he handed our daughter off to her. "She's just so beautiful, isn't she Betty?"

My mom's Black girlfriend nodded in agreement, her arm wrapped around my mom's waist. Antsy insisted on her turn holding my daughter, and she tenderly held her niece while her girlfriend Via cooed in joy. Missy demanded to be next, then Shannon, and last the very pregnant Tiffany had her turn, tears glinting in her eyes as she held her granddaughter.

"We have to get going," I finally said, taking my daughter from my mother-in-law. "You can hold her later."

The limo pulled away from the mansion, and I noticed a flash of fear crossing Mary's face. "What?" I asked her, reaching across the car seat strapped between us and taking her hand.

Mary glanced down at our daughter. "What if the patriots..."

"They won't," I lied. It was a fear nagging the back of my mind too. What if they did try something. I kept coming up with rationalizations why they wouldn't. "It's too public. They're not going to risk all those innocent people."

"Maybe this is a mistake, Mark."

"We can't keep her in a bubble all her life. We have our guards, she has her amulet, and we'll be there to protect her."

"Yeah, sis," Missy giggled. "Your husband's a bad-ass warrior. There's nothing to worry about. He'll just summon that wicked sword of his and..." She a swishing noise and sliced her arm through the air. "That's that."

Antsy laughed. "That's my big brother. Attack the problem head-on with a big, phallic-shaped object."

"Maybe I should attack you with a phallic-shaped object," I grinned at my sister.

"Promise?" she asked, fluttering her eyes.

"You can count on it, sis."

"So, Mark," Shannon said, shifting in her seat between George and Missy, "I've always wondered something."

"Yeah?"

"You got your gift from Mom, but how would you pass yours on. Hypothetically speaking, how did one Monk give his powers to another. Would you have to ass-fuck the guy? I mean, that's basically how nuns do it, right?"

"Yep," Tiffany nodded. "We ass-fuck each other."

A laugh passed through the limo.

"So, how do you pass it on?" Shannon asked after catching her breath.

"I'd have to die," I answered.

"What?" Mary exclaimed, giving me a shocked look. "Is that a joke, Mark?"

"Nope," I said. "Monks pass on their gift to the person that killed them."

"Why?" Mary asked. "I figured they just fucked someone. Like nuns do it."

"It's an act of forgiveness," I explained. "I never told you this, Mare?"

She shook her head.

"That sounds weird," Antsy said. "Why would they do it like that?"

"Well, the way Azazel explained it was to help the person who killed you become a better human being. That's why there are so few Monks; if they were slain by a demon, or if they thought the man who killed them would abuse the power, they wouldn't pass on their Gift."

Mary raised her eyebrow. "How can you forgive the person that killed you?"

I shrugged; it seemed impossibly hard. "Fuck if I know."

"Well, I guess you won't be giving up your powers any time soon, big bro."

"Yeah," I grinned. "Little attached to my life."

"So am I," my wife smiled, and leaned over our daughter's car seat to kiss me on the lips.

"Get a room!" Ansty yelled and Missy wolf-whistled.

"If we got a room, then you couldn't watch," Mary smiled at our sisters.

"That's a fair point," Missy said to my sister. "Plus, we couldn't join in. So where's the fun in that."

"Excellent point, pipsqueak," Antsy agreed.

"Pipsqueak?" shrieked Missy.

"Umm, how about a cute, beautiful, vivacious pipsqueak?"

"Better," Missy smiled, and gave my sister a kiss on the lips, which brought a wolf-whistle from Damien.

The crowds were ecstatic as we pulled up to the church, held back by a line of bodyguards. Many of the faithful had flocked to the church to see their new Goddess. There were more women then men, a sad reality in the aftermath of the Wormwood plague, and I admired more than a few pair of exposed breasts as our limo crept slowly forward.

I savored the passionate cries of my worshipers that flooded the limo when Leah opened the doors. Our sexy chauffeur bowed with a flourish of her arm as I stepped out. I surveyed the crowed, then held my hand to help Mary out, little Chase in her arms. It was like a physical wave slamming into us as the crowd roared their love. I waved and Mary held Chase up to her cheek, facing our daughter towards our loving worshipers. The noise scared our daughter, and she started fussing; Mary rocked and soothed her as we walked into the church.

"My Lord, my Lady," breathed Rose Cunningham, her blonde hair caught up in a long braid. Daisy, her twin-sister and wife, slipped up beside her, and they bowed their heads.

The Cunningham Twins were our High Priestess. In a ceremony in March, we had publicly bound them with the Zimmah spell in this very building, sealing their position as the head of our Church. Since they were bound, and therefore trustworthy, Mary handed over Chase to Daisy. Our priestess's face melted with awe, and she gently cradled our daughter.

"She's perfect," Daisy breathed, handing the infant to Rose, who bent down and kissed our daughter's forehead.

"We've set aside a room for you to wait in, my Lord," Rose said, handing Chase back to Mary. "The Ceremony will begin in about an hour."

I suppressed a yawn, there were worshipers watching us, and it wouldn't do to let them see us as humans. "Lead on," I commanded.

It was a small room set with a few, padded benches. Two of the maids—cute, innocent Cindy and sultry, dusky-skinned Karishma—had set out refreshments of wine and juice and quickly started serving Mary, our families, and me. I sat down between my wife and my sister, who pressed her warm body up against me. Almost immediately, Missy and her boyfriend Damien started making out.

"You are such a cute thing," Sean smiled as Cindy handed him a glass of wine. Pregnant Tiffany gave her husband an amused look.

"Thank you, sir," she smiled back, braces glinting on her white teeth.

"I would have loved to have you in my class." Sean's hand reached out and fondled the teen's ass. Cindy's grin broadened. She was a maid and lived to serve in any way.

Mary glanced up, rolled her eyes, and held up Chase to Karishma. "She's a little young to see this."

"Yes, my Lady," Karishma purred in her Hindi accent. "You are so beautiful," she cooed to my daughter, carrying her out of the room.

Cindy let out a gasp; Sean's hand rubbed between her thighs. It seemed like I had transformed both our families into sex fiends. My sister's hand rubbed at my crotch, her lips kissing my neck as Sean pulled our teenage maid into his lap, and aggressively kissed her.

Mary shifted in her seat. "All my careful work is going to get ruined," she muttered, then shrugged. "Oh well, I'll just cast an illusion on myself." She had become quite proficient with the Ashan spell, and sometimes like to play pranks on me with her illusions.

I glanced at her. My wife's cheeks were flushed, her emerald eyes wide with desire, and wet spots appeared over her breasts, darkening her bodice. "You're leaking," I whispered.

"Damn," she muttered, pulling her dress down. Her two dark-red nipples popped into view, white milk beading on the hard nub. When she became horny, her breasts always leaked milk.

Shannon, who sat on the other side of Mary, smiled. "Let me help you, sis."

Mary gasped as her older sister sucked her right nipple into her lips, nursing loudly. My sister pulled my cock out, stroking it a few times, then leaned over me to capture my wife's other nipple. My shaft was rock hard, leaking pre-cum as my sister jacked me off. Her cheeks hollowed as she nursed at my wife's breast, milk leaking out of the corners of her lips.

"Oh, yes!" moaned Cindy, drawing my attention to my teenage maid bouncing on my father-in-law's cock.

My mother sat down next to Mary's mother. They shared a passionate kiss, my mom's hand roaming across Tiffany's pregnant belly, pushing down her top to reveal her large breasts and dark-red nipples. My mom sucked a nipple into her mouth, and Tiffany moaned her delight.

"Fuck my ass, George!" Missy shouted. "I'm so horny! I need two cocks!"

The younger Sullivan sister, her strawberry hair streaming around her as she rode Damien hard, smiled over her shoulder. Her skirt bounced up and down, flashing her naked ass at George. Shannon's fiancee didn't hesitate to bury his cock in his future sister-in-law's teenage ass.

Antsy straddled me, her lips kissing me, full of my wife's creamy breast milk. My cock slid into my sister's cunt, warm and hot, and she writhed atop me. The room was filled with the moans and gasps of our family enjoying themselves. I gripped her asscheeks as she furiously fucked me.

"Umm, you have a great cock, big bro," she purred.

A tongue licked at my balls. I had no idea whose. The tongue followed up my cock and licked where I penetrated my sister's pussy. Antsy moaned, glancing behind her. "You dirty slut, Via!"

Via, my sister's girlfriend, gave a wicked giggle. "Wait until I'm licking your asshole!"

Antsy gasped, her cunt tightening on me, as Via's tongue moved away from my cock. I pictured the black-haired girl's face buried in my sister's asscheeks, tonguing her backdoor. Antsy's back arched, and her breasts pressed against my face. I pushed her red bodice down, and sucked a pink nipple into my mouth. I was disappointed not to get any milk; I had come to love breast milk.

"I should knock you up," I grunted as her cunt slid up and down on my shaft. "I want to drink your milk."

"What a nasty thought," my sister grinned.

"Here, hun," Mary purred, and her milk-heavy breast loomed before me.

She was kneeling on the couch now, her sister on the floor eating out her pussy. I captured my wife's nipple and sucked hard. Delicious milk flowed into my mouth, warm, creamy, and sweet. I loved her milk; I loved every woman's breast milk. I wanted to drain her dry, but my daughter loved my wife's milk, too. And I wanted to be a good father.

"Let me taste!" moaned my wife.

I didn't swallow the mouthful I had, and pulled my wife's face down for a passionate kiss. My balls boiled; sharing breast milk with my wife, and being buried in my sister's cunt, was too much for my dick. I groaned, my body tensing, and I shot three large blasts into my sister's womb. She kept riding me, gasping and moaning.

"Lick my ass, Via! You dirty whore! I'm going to make you cum so hard!" she screamed. "I'm cumming! Oh, yes! I love fucking my big brother's cock!"

Antsy leaned against me, then Via pulled her off me. My sister stretched out on the floor, her pussy messy with my cum. Via straddled her girlfriend's face, and they slipped into a sixty-nine, Via sucking my cum out of my sister's pussy.

"Oh, shit!" Mary gasped, throwing her head back as she writhed on Shannon's mouth. "I love it! Make me cum, sister!"

I looked around the room. Cindy knelt on the floor getting fucked doggie style in the ass by Sean, her mouth buried in Tiffany's cunt. Betty, my mom's Black girlfriend, had Missy's head buried between her thighs while sucking George's cock and Damien had mounted my mom, his face buried in her tits, as he pumped away at her cunt. Damien had a thing for older women, and my mom was one hot MILF.

Smiling, I slipped behind my young sister-in-law, and stuck my cock into her tight, freshly fucked ass. Whenever the entire family gathered together, these sort of orgies were the consequence. We all loved each other, and what better way to show it then by shoving your cock into your wife's sister's ass while she ate out your mother's girlfriend's cunt?

Mary knelt beside me, and gave me a kiss on the lips, reaching out to fondle her little sister's ass. "Don't get too carried away," she whispered. "We do need to present our daughter soon."

"I'll try," I moaned, Missy's ass tight on my cock.

"Come lick my pussy, Mary," Shannon cooed. "I need to cum so bad."

Mary gave a wicked laugh. "Well, I'll try not to get too carried away myself!"

Noel Heinrich – Patriot Headquarters, Montana

"The ceremony should be starting in an hour," Wyatt reported.

"Let's get the golem's moving," I ordered.

"It's still not too late to abort," Wyatt pointed out. "I've seen the crowds gathering on the news. It's going to be a bloodbath. The golems are not discriminating! Why not attack their mansion?"

"It has to be a place that we know where they're at!" I countered. "And someplace public so Mark won't flee. You've seen him. When there are cameras on, he can't help but play the invincible god! We don't know their schedule, so we wouldn't even know when they would be there, and if we did, we don't know the layout of that mansion. They could be anywhere in there, and slip away through the Shadows. We're only going to get one chance at this so we can't afford to fuck it up!"

"There has to be a better way! We can wait for another appearance! One where there aren't thousands of innocents gathered! We're supposed to protect these people, Noel! Not butcher them!"

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and steeled my nerves. "Their hunters have forced our hand. Alison and Desiree could find this place at any moment, Wyatt! The time for being careful is over! If thousands have to die, then that's cheap in my book!"

"Fuck," he muttered. "Why did I ever listen to you, Noel?"

"Because you can't stand idle while people are enslaved."

Wyatt spat. "Fine. Let's get this bloodbath over with!"

I reached out to the black sword lying on the table. It felt disgusting in my hand. The blade seemed to drink the light in, reflecting nothing back. It was emptiness hammered into a weapon, like a part of the universe had been cut away, leaving behind a void of nothingness, a hole in the fabric of space. It was Annihilation, and what it cost me to procure this cursed sword haunted my nightmares.

It was the only thing that could harm the spirits guarding the Tyrants in the Shadows. Three of us had been lost trying to slip through the Shadows and assassinate them before we learned just what was protecting them. This blade could harm them, could kill them, so to speak. It was Annihilation, and would unmake their very souls, ending what is eternal.

I slid it into the sheath hanging from my waist. "Start opening the portals."

Alison de la Fuente – One Mile South of Patriot Headquarters

My wife was sleeping, half on her side, her black hair spread out across her pillow. Our sleeping bag was half unzipped, and her pillowy, brown breasts were exposed to my gaze, topped with her dark nipples, looking like Hershey kisses and tasted just as sweet. It reeked of pussy in the tent; we had fucked each other like bunny-rabbits last night after we finished planning our attack.

We were going to attack the Patriot's suspected stronghold tonight. Our soldiers were special forces: a mix of SEALs, Delta Force, and Marine Force Recon. All were veterans of Iraq and Afghanistan, proficient at midnight raids. We each had ten soldiers under our command, all bound to Master with the Ragily prayer. More than enough to storm the house under cover of darkness and eliminate everyone inside.

We had a Predator drone orbiting overhead, and its infrared only showed a dozen or so people living in the ranch. Snipers would take out the sentries, and the rest would rush the compounds and capture or eliminate the Warlocks before they knew what was happening. For now we just had to wait behind a knoll a mile away from their compound.

And I knew just how I wanted to pass the time.

I dug into my rucksack, and found a hot-pink dildo and a clear strap-on harness. I quickly pulled them up my slim legs, adjusted the end of the dildo so it pushed against my little clit, and cinched the straps nice and tight. I thought I saw movement, and I stared at my wife; the curve her lips twitched as she suppressed a smile.

"Hmm, what a pretty, and helpless woman I found," I said out loud. "It would be a shame if some perverted woman came along and molested her."

Desiree continued her charade of sleep as I grasped the side of our sleeping bag, and peeled it gently to the side, exposing her lush, nut-brown skin. I reached out, and stroked her thigh up to her plump, Latin ass, squeezing her cheek. She was so beautiful, almost as beautiful as Mistress, and every day I was thankful to Master for bringing us together.

Sometimes I despaired of ever hunting down all these despicable Warlocks. I wanted to spend so much more time with my wife and my Masters. Then stop hunting the Warlocks, my subconscious whispered. Then you can go back to Master, and be with him and your wife.

No. Desiree needs to do this. And I need to help her!

Then let her do it, answered my subconscious. Master needs you at his side. Leave Desiree and go back to him. You never should have married her to begin with!

I love her! I screamed at my subconscious.

I didn't know why I had these regrets about marrying Desiree. I loved her so much, more than Master and Mistress. When we were apart, I ached for her. It had been difficult the last six months being separated from her and our Masters. But Desiree needed to hunt down the Warlocks for what he had done to her, and I needed to help her punish them. Sadly, it was faster for us to split up. Anger burned inside me; I wanted to make all the Warlocks pay! I hated them all for what he did to my wife. If I could raise Brandon Fitzsimmons from the dead, I would flay every inch of his flesh, starting with the cock that raped my Desiree. I would just have to settle for disposing of all the other Warlocks.

I pushed my anger down, and ignored my stupid subconscious. I had a beautiful, 'sleeping' wife to molest. I bent down, and kissed her butt-cheek, then kissed my way up her hip and side. I found her ribs and gently moved her arm out of the way so I could follow them to her large melons. I rubbed my cheek against her soft breast, and found her dark nipple, sweet as chocolate, and sucked it into my hungry lips.

A soft sigh escaped Desiree's lips, and I looked through a curtain of my pink hair to see Desiree quickly shut her eyes. I nipped her nipple, biting ever so gently with my teeth, and felt her twitch. I released her nipple, and kissed up the slope of her breast to her shoulder. I bit and nibbled on her shoulder blade, then I nuzzled at the nape of her neck, sucking hard just above her choker, and leaving a dark hickey.

"Umm, you are such a sexy, helpless woman," I cooed in her ear, after kissing up her cheek. "I'm going to stick my cock in your cunt, and have my way with you."

I rolled Desiree onto her back, her black hair falling over her face, and I parted her thighs, settling between them. I rubbed the tip of the dildo across her slit, smearing her juices to lube it. Desiree twitched every time the hard plastic brushed her clit. After a few tries, I found her hole, and pushed just the very tip of the dildo inside her, enjoying the fake cock's base pushing back against my own clit.

"Oh, no, what are you doing?" Desiree gasped in mock alarm, pretending to wake up. "Please, stop! I am a virgin!"

"Ohh, that just make's this more fun," I cackled, pushing in the dildo an inch.

"No, no, no! Someone help me!" Desiree cried out. I giggled; she was cheesier than a soap opera. "I have never been with a man before."

"I'm no man," I growled, pushing in another inch.

Desiree's hand found my perky breast, fingering the barbell that pierced my nipple, and purred throatily, "Umm, I see that." I pushed in again, sinking the dildo almost all the way in. "No, this is wrong!"

I gently pumped into her. "Doesn't this feel wonderful? Your cunt was made to have my cock shoved inside it!"

"Yes! I mean, no! It's so wrong! Women shouldn't be making love! I'm no lesbian! Take it out, please!"

"If that's what you want?" I sighed, and started pulling the dildo out of her, but Desiree's legs wrapped around me, stopping me. "I thought you wanted me to stop?"

"I...I..." she stammered. "I want you to fuck me!"

I pushed the dildo into her just a little bit. "You want me to fuck you? I thought you weren't a lesbian!"

"I was wrong!" Desiree moaned. "Fuck me! Make me your lesbian whore!"

I shoved the cock in, delighting in the pressure on my clit. Hearing Desiree begging to be my lesbian whore was stoking my fires big time; I pounded her pussy. "My little, lesbian whore!" I gasped, watching her breasts bounce as I fucked her. "You love it, don't you!"

"Yes!" Desiree gasped. "You've made me love women! Pound my cunt! Make me cum!"

My orgasm was an inferno burning through my entire body; I drove the dildo deep into her cunt as I writhed in passion. She kissed my neck and chin, her hips screwing up into me as she ground her clit against my pubic bone. Her hands squeezed my ass, urging me to fuck her harder. I pumped my hips as fast as I could, Desiree panting every time the dildo buried into her snatch.

Then she exploded, writhing beneath me. "¡Mi Sirenita!" Desiree gasped, lost in the pleasure of her orgasm. "¡Me estoy corriendo!"

Desiree smiled contentedly at me. So irresistible; I bent down and kissed my wife, and her arms wrapped around my body, hands running across my back. I slipped my tongue into her mouth, explored her and caressed her tongue. "I love you," I told her when I broke the kiss, then I grinned, "Do you want to play..."

"Ma'ams!" Sergeant Holland shouted from outside, "Something's going on at the ranch!"

I sighed, kissed Desiree one last time, and shouted, "We'll be right there, Sergeant."

"Very good, ma'ams."

"¡Mierda!" Desiree cursed. I thought the same thing. I hadn't cum yet!

After we were dressed in camo fatigues, we joined Sergeant Holland, formerly of the Marine Force Recon, on the knoll. Thirteen men and women were gathered outside before the field of rough, clay statues. A pair of them were standing on ladders doing something in the air. I focused my auraculars—a pair of enchanted binoculars Sam whipped up that allowed you to see a person's aura—on the people on the ladders. There was something weird in the air, glowing lines, and the men moved their arms like they were drawing an arc in the air.

"They're making a portal," Desiree muttered. That definitely made them Patriots. Only the Patriots and Lilith's followers knew that spell, and no man followed Lilith.

"Why do they need one so big?" I asked her.

The portal finished, shimmering as it opened on the misty Shadows. It was large, easily ten or twelve feet tall and twenty feet wide. More than enough for a human to walk through. My stomach sank; that was tall enough for one of those statues to walk through.

"¡Mierda! They're fleeing!" She glanced at Sergeant Holland. "We need to attack right now! Before they get away!"

"Risky," he answered. "We'd be exposed. There's not much in the way of cover between here and there."

They're going to attack the Church! my subconscious screamed. You have to stop them!

"Wait!" I shouted, "They're going to use the statues to attack the ceremony! Master and Mistress are presenting Chase this morning!"

As I spoke, the front ranks of statues lurched to life, and then more and more ranks. Like a wave rippling through a pond, the roughly shaped, clay figures started moving. A blonde woman was at the portal. She walked through, and a group of ten statues followed her into the Shadows.

"I want the drone to drop its hellfire missiles right on the mass of Warlocks!" I shouted at the Sergeant.

"Yes, ma'am!" he grabbed his field radio, and started relaying his orders.

Desiree grabbed her radio, "Snipers, take out their sentries! All other units prepare to assault the compound!"

Noel Heinrich

The portal sprang to life as Ben and Jarvis finished drawing their circle, the gray mists of the Shadows pressing against the portal's plane like smoke against a glass window. Ben and Jarvis climbed down their ladders; the portal had to be carved large enough for the golems to fit. Nodding in satisfaction, I turned to survey the field of golems, all roughly shaped from the red clay we had dug out of a nearby hill. Each was hulking, standing ten feet tall, and broad shouldered, but only had the vaguest resemblance to a human, like they were merely cut-outs in the shape of a human without any of the fine details: eyes, nose, muscle definition, hair, lips, bellybutton. They stood motionless, waiting for a Warlock to activate them. We had a hundred and thirty. Ten for each of us.

I took a deep breath, and yelled the golem's activation order, "Met!"

The first ten shook and came to life. Wyatt shouted the order, then Jarvis, Ben, Gus, Marrisa, and the rest. Row after row of the hulks came to life, their bodies creaking as they began to move. Hebrew letters appeared on their foreheads, blazing scarlet. They spelled a single word—death. They would reek havoc in the church, killing anyone who got between them and their target. They would not stop, they would not tire, they would only kill. Even if we were struck down, they would keep killing. And Mark, wanting to prove how great and mighty he was, would throw himself into the fray. I smiled; he'd be overwhelmed.

Drawing Annihilation, I stepped through the portal. With booming footsteps, the ten golems under my command followed me through the portal. I peered around the mists, keeping a wary eye for Mark's ghosts. I didn't see any. But you couldn't see far through the fog. I glanced behind me, watching my golems stump through the portal. Wyatt and the other Patriots waited for their turn, standing in a group by the portal.

They all looked uncomfortable, nervous, talking to each other or smoking a cigarette. Arms folded, tension in their eyes. And guilt. Wyatt looked at the ground, his shoulders slumped. None of them liked my plan, but we had run out of options. Mark was too powerful, and we were being hunted down like dogs. There was—

Fire engulfed my compatriots. Red and orange erupted in the blink of an eye, boiling with fury. A rapidly expanding cloud of flames and smoke consumed them, then ripped through the ranks of the golems like a combine through a wheat field, battering their bodies into chunks of red clay. Then the shock wave slammed into me.

The fog spun about me as I was thrown by the force of the explosion; Annihilation flew from my hand. I tumbled through gray mist, struggling to comprehend what had happened as I was tossed like a piece of debris in a hurricane. I landed on my arm; there was a sickening crunch, and pain roared through me. I rolled across the ground, and came to a rest next to the black blade. It had landed point down, sunk to the hilt into the gray rocks.

What just happened?

I lay dazed, my ears ringing. My thoughts were scattered, and my mind groggy. The image of Wyatt and the other Patriots waiting for their turn to enter was burned into my mind. They had been standing together talking or smoking a cigarette, waiting for their turn to lead their golems through the portal, when—my thoughts froze.

They were all dead: Davin, Jarvis, Marrisa, Nyree, Kilie, Ben, Alec, Gus. I was the last one left.

I felt numb—too stunned for grief. Mark had found us, and sent some sort of air strike. I should be dead, too. I had barely entered the Shadows when it happened. My body shook; I missed death by mere seconds. The weight of what just happened fell on me, crushing my soul. I was the only one left.

It fell on me to save the world. That weight almost crushed me.

"I'll see you dead, Mark!" I screamed into the shadows. "You'll pay for every innocent life you destroyed!"

I sat up, trying to ignore the pain of my broken left arm. I glanced once at it, and almost threw up. It was twisted; a splinter of white bone jutted bloody out the side. I grasped Annihilation with my good arm, and struggled to my feet. Surrounding me stood my golems, patiently waiting for their orders. Two were destroyed in the blast, and another had lost an arm.

I was the last Patriot! I would see Mark Glassner dead even if it cost me my life! Gritting my teeth, I led my golems through the mists.

Alison de la Fuente

The hellfire missile struck at the center of the mass of Warlocks, consuming them in red flames and black smoke. The shock wave was so powerful I could see it rippling through the air, collapsing the side of a barn, blowing out the windows of the ranch house, and blasting the animated statues into huge chunks of red clay, which flew in every direction and crashed down across the Montana countryside.

The second missile was overkill, striking just feet from the first and collapsing the rest of the barn. A few seconds later, the booms slammed into our position on the knoll. The shock wave struck me, and I felt like I had just jumped face first into a pool of water. My hair whipped about my head, and my ears protested the sudden pressure change. The Patriot's three sentries only had to time to gape at the missiles' devastation before they fell dead to our snipers' fire.

"Good kill," Sergeant Holland radioed to the drone operators back in Langley, Virginia.

"Maybe one got away," Desiree mused as she scanned the wreckage with her auraculars. "That blonde woman was through the portal when the missiles struck. I don't know if explosions can pass through a portal or not."

"Um, are those statues still moving?" I asked. Maybe twenty of them, the ones farthest from the portal, were still standing. It looked like they were turning around, walking towards us with a slow, unstoppable gait. "I think they're coming for us."

"Send another missile down," Desiree ordered. "Wipe them out."

"The drone only carried two Hellfire missiles," Sergeant Holland answered.

The snipers opened fire, their bullets sending up puffs of red dust, pitting the surface of the claymen. They may as well have been firing BB guns for all the good their shots did. When the lead hulk reached the barbwire fence surrounding the ranch, it just walked through it, the barbwire tangling uselessly about its legs.

Sergeant Holland whistled and waved at our men waiting at the base of the knoll.

The soldiers scrambled up the hill almost as agile as mountain goats. Two had one-shot missile launchers called LAWs, small tubes that they quickly deployed. They aimed and squeezed their triggers. With a hissing whoosh, the rocket motors ignited and they streaked down the hill in a shower of sparks, and struck home, exploding against the chests of the first two clay men. Clouds of black smoke billowed away, revealing gaping holes blown into their chests. The first fell apart after taking one step, but the second somehow kept coming, enough of its mass left to sustain it. Despite the fact that I could see through the damned thing, the clay man kept plodding closer and closer.

"Set out Claymores," Sergeant Holland shouted. Three soldiers slid down the knoll and started sticking Claymore antipersonal mines into the ground; small, olive-green rectangles, slightly concave, and stuck into the ground on small legs made of wire. They were powerful, filled with high-explosives and ball bearings, the charges shaped to spray a concentrated area with maiming death.

"Call Sam," Desiree shouted at me. "We need to know how to kill these things."

I pulled my satphone out of my pocket, looked up Sam's number in the directory, and called her. It took a moment for the phone to connect to the satellite and another ten seconds before it started ringing. And it rang and rang as the clay men drew closer and closer. They were deceptively fast; while their gait was slow, their stride was very long, and they were already approaching the base of the knoll.

"Pick up, pick up!" I snarled at the phone in frustration.

A boom shook the air as the first claymore detonated, finishing off the second golem and spraying the third one with shrapnel, shearing off its arm; it didn't seem to care. The soldiers opened fire, muzzles flashing, and my ears were assaulted with cracking gunshots. The golems were sprayed with automatic fire, chunks of mud flaking off them, and gouges and pockmarks began to litter their bodies. They still kept coming, the soldier's bullets too small to hurt something that large made of hard-packed clay.

"How many claymores did you set out?" Desiree asked.

"Three," Sergeant Holland answered. "All we had."

"¡Mierda!"

We were in trouble. The satphone just rang and rang.

Noel Heinrich

"Ignore the pain, Noel," I whispered, my voice hoarse. "Just ignore the pain. Mark Glassner must die for all the atrocities committed in his name, and his callous enslavement of the world. All humans deserve to be free, and to ensure that freedom it sometimes means spilling blood. Your enemies' blood and your own. For generations, men and women have laid down their lives at the altar of Liberty, and today it's your turn. So keep walking, Noel."

I stumbled through the Shadows in a haze of pain, my golems lumbering along beside me. I knew my destination, picturing the church in downtown Puyallup, and let instincts guide me. That's how you moved around in the Shadows—instincts. What would be a twelve hour trip in the real world, would take me maybe thirty minutes of trudging through the never-ending mist.

I tried to shove down the pain of my broken arm. I bound it to my chest with my torn shirt. All I wore now were my pants and my bulletproof vest, my 9mm service pistol holstered at my waist, a bronze dagger tucked into my belt, and Annihilation, the sword of negation, clutched in my good hand. I held the vile thing in a death grip; the price I paid was far too high for me to lose this blade.

I just kept putting one foot in front of the other, just one more step, over and over. Righteous anger fueled me—and guilt. The innocent girl's face swam in my mind, pleading. I tightened my grip on the sword, trying to forget that memory. I never could.

The Tyrants had to die! Their tyranny could not be allowed to run unchecked. I would stop them no matter the cost to my soul! I just needed to keep putting one foot before the other. Step after pain-filled step. Time seemed to lose all meaning in the Shadows, and distance was only a thing remembered from the real world. Here everything looked the same. Gray ground, gray fog.

"Hello, Noel," a soft voice whispered out of the mists.

She stepped out before me, blonde and beautiful, a sad smile on her lips. A terrible ache grew in my heart as I stared at the spirit, and for a moment my resolve slipped and those memories I had carefully bottled threatened to rush back; I tightened the lid, and reclaimed my resolve. Nothing was going to stop me, not after all I had done to reach this point. After I had killed—

The girl's innocent face filled my mind again. Her face was never far, frozen in that awful moment. Her eyes had bulged as her fingers had clawed ineffectually at the garrote. Guilt racked my soul; I could not let her death be in vain! Her death had to mean something! Otherwise I had murdered her for nothing, and that would mean I was nothing more than a—

I pushed the guilt away; I was a Patriot. I did what was necessary to defeat the Tyrants. I gripped Annihilation, raising the hole-in-reality up, and leveled it at the spirit before me. I had to finish this! I had to kill Mark! No matter the cost!

Even if that meant condemning Chasity to oblivion.

Alison de la Fuente

"Pick up, pick up!" I screamed at the satphone. "Pick up you stupid..."

"Hello?"

"Candy, put Sam on right goddamn now!"

"We're in the middle of something important," Candy said brusquely. "We've found something here at Qumran, call back..."

"Put her on right the fuck now!" I screamed. "It's life or death! We're under fucking attack!"

"Fine, Alison," Candy sighed. "You don't need to be so melodramatic." She paused, then asked, "Are you setting off fireworks?"

"Those are guns, you stupid cow!"

"Stupid cow?" she muttered angrily. "I should just hang up right now!"

"I'm sorry," I said through gritted teeth. I wanted to reach through the damned satphone and wring the stupid cow's throat. A boom rocked me, the second claymore detonated, blowing the legs off a golem. It fell to the ground in a cloud of red dust, then flailed on the ground with its arms, before finding purchase, and started dragging itself up the knoll. Great. "Now put Sam on before we die you stupid fucking cow!" I snarled, so angry my words almost ran together.

Candy snorted, and she spoke to someone. There was more rustling, then Sam answered, "Hey, Alison, what's so important?"

"We're being attacked by clay men," I told her with relief. "The Patriots created them."

"Claymen?" Sam frowned. "I'm not sure I've heard of that."

My stomach sank. "Really? Only heavy explosives seem to do anything to them. And we're running out of those."

"Hmm, describe them in detail."

"They're tall, maybe ten feet, and made of red clay. They don't feel pain or anything. They're like animated statues, and we've already killed the Warlocks who activated them, and now they're attacking us."

"Interesting," Sam murmured.

"It's really not! These things are practically unstoppable!"

"They sound like golems," Sam said. "It's a Jewish legend. Supposedly they'll obey any command that their Warlock gives them. Is there anything written on the golems' foreheads?"

I peered through the auraculars at the nearest golem's forehead. There was something there: three Hebrew letters. It was hard to make out which three as the golem lumbered forward. "Yeah, a three-letter Jewish word."

"That would be met, I believe," Sam answered. "It means death in Hebrew. Without a Warlock to guide them, it will just kill the nearest humans until it is deactivated."

"So how do we deactivate them? Outside of brute force?"

"Oh, destroy the word on their forehead," Sam explained. "That's probably what actually stopped them. The blast probably disrup..."

I hung up—I didn't have time for one of Sam's long-winded explanations—and screamed, "Shoot for the forehead!"

"Yes, ma'am!" Sergeant Holland shouted back, ejecting the magazine smoothly from his weapon and jamming in the next one, and started firing.

Bullets began peppering the golems' faces. The damned things were so close, so I drew my Colt .45, and aimed the pistol at the nearest one's face. My hand shook with adrenaline as I unloaded the clip; I missed with every shot.

"Shit," I muttered.

I ejected the clip, fumbling with the replacement magazine. The first golem collapsed in a heap of red rubble from the soldiers' fire, then a second and third. It was working! We could do this! I slammed the magazine into my pistol, released the slide, took a deep breath, aimed carefully. "You can do this, Alison," I whispered, then fired, emptying my entire clip in two heartbeats.

And missed with every goddamn shot! I didn't even hit the fucking golem's giant torso! Dammit! The damned thing was almost as big as the side of a barn! And I did so well on the practice range. I ejected the magazine, my hands shaking violently. I tried to calm them down, breathing deeply. How were all these soldiers so calm? How could they face down unfeeling and unliving mounds of clay walking towards us like it was just another day at the office.

"We need to retreat!" Holland shouted. Half of the golems were destroyed, but the other ten were so close, about to summit the knoll.

"Fall back!" Desiree ordered. I didn't need to be told a second time.

Two of the soldiers, Millner and Vasquez, kept shooting, providing cover for our retreat, as the rest raced down the slope of the knoll. It was two miles to where we parked the vehicles. Two miles across broken ground and scrub bushes; we'd never outrun the golems. That didn't stop us from trying!

Fear spurred me as I ran down the hill, heedless to how dangerous it was. I didn't care that I might trip and fall and break my neck, I just knew that if those things caught me a broken neck would be the least of my problems. The hill was dotted with olive-green brush that ripped at my arms as I raced by, leaving stinging cuts I barely felt. I reached the bottom of the knoll, thrilled that I somehow didn't fall, and I put all my effort into running as fast as I possibly could. I wasn't going to die here, killed by some fucking golem!

I stepped in a jackrabbit's hole.

The damned thing was practically invisible, dug into a tuft of yellow grass. My ankle twisted; pain shot through me, white-hot. I fell forward with a loud gasp, landing hard on my hands and knees. I couldn't lie here, those things would tear me apart. I pushed back up, struggling to stand. I put weight on my hurt ankle; it folded up like a cheap chair. I cried out, clutching it, and collapsing onto my face again.

"Alison!" Desiree shouted, kneeling down next to me.

"I think I messed up," I said, trying to grin through the pain—I failed.

"Come on," she said, grabbing my arm.

Desiree put her arm under my shoulder, helping me up. She supported me, my arm wrapped around her shoulder. We struggled forward—I was reduced to hopping on my one good ankle. Behind us, I could hear thudding footsteps. I glanced back and saw six golems striding down the knoll after us, Millner's ruined body clutched in one of the golem's fists like a bloody, torn doll. Vasquez raced ahead of the advancing golems, running like the Devil himself was licking at his heels.

"Let's go!" Vasquez shouted, grabbing my other arm and, together, he and Desiree half-carried and half-dragged me away from the golems.

We didn't go fast. There wasn't much that I could do. I opened my mouth, prepared to tell my wife to leave me, but she shot me a warning glance that said everything: "I love you, and I am not leaving you behind to be torn apart." So I struggled to use my one good foot, trying to push us forward as they carried me. The other soldiers quickly outdistanced us, and the golems kept advancing like a force of nature, uncaring, unfeeling, unmerciful.

Holland and the other soldiers reached a line of scrub, and turned to provide us covering fire. Another golem collapsed behind us, but those thudding footsteps grew closer and closer. Two more collapsed. A grenade sailed over our head, exploded, and I screamed in pain as something hot seared into my ass.

"Faster!" I urged, glancing behind me to see a golem only ten feet away, his arms outstretched. Christ, his hand was bigger than my head!

The gunfire was dwindling; the soldiers were running out of ammo. They drew their sidearms, carefully aiming, and opened fire at the golems. I could hear the bullets whistling as they flew right over our heads. I scrunched down, trying to hunker my head out of the soldiers' line of fire, and squeezed my eyes shut. I didn't want to see what killed me. Whether it was the golem's grasping hand or my own men's bullets, I didn't want to know.

See what your stupidity has done! my subconscious railed. You never should have left his side!

"I'm sorry, Masters," I whispered; I didn't want to die. I wanted to be at Master's and Mistress's side forever with Desiree. "I'll wait for you with Chasity and the others. Yours forever."

There was a groaning noise and a loud thud as something heavy crashed into the ground behind me. The gunfire stopped; the soldiers cheered, whopping and hollering with unabashed joy. I forced myself to open my eyes and look back. Strewn across the ground behind us were six piles of red clay, one just feet away, a small line of clay leading from that mass to just inches from me. The thing must have been just heartbeats from wrapping its strong hands about my neck and squeezing the life out of me.

Whoops of joy went up from the soldiers. I started shaking as Vasquez and Desiree set me down. We were alive. Energy surged through me, and I grabbed my wife and kissed her thoroughly on the lips. We were alive! She held me tight, trembling in my arms. We lived! We defeated the Patriots, stopped their attack, and survived! Desiree thrust her tongue into my mouth; my fingers stroked her neck and cheek, savoring her warmth, her life.

I was so happy! I didn't even feel the pain in my broken ankle.

Noel Heinrich

A battle raged around Chasity and myself, the other ghosts attacking my golems with silver swords. The golems would punch, but their blows were ineffectual against the ghosts, unable to hurt those who were already dead. But their damned, silver blades could hurt my golems, hacking and biting into the clay, and sending chucks flying off to be dissolved by the mist. One golem collapsed, enough clay missing from its legs for it to be able to stand.

None of that mattered as Chasity stood before me, a silver blade in her hand. "Out of the way, Chasity," I growled. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You can't hurt me," Chasity answered.

I raised the black blade, the tear in reality, and Chasity's eyes fell nervously on it. "Don't be too sure, Chasity."

"Watch out," Karen called out. "That's Mishbath, the Blade of Annihilation."

Chasity's eyes narrowed, but her resolve never wavered. "Turn back, Noel."

"I can't," I hissed. "He deserves to die, to have never even existed. I will set mankind free from his tyranny!"

"Please, Noel," Chasity begged, "Don't make me kill you. Remember that night we shared, the passion?"

"I remember that you threw your life away protecting them the next morning!" I screamed. "They made you their slave and forced you to sacrifice your life. Just like all the other ghosts here! They are monsters, Chasity! Now step aside, or I will deliver oblivion to you!"

"Mark's the monster?" Chasity asked, eyeing the blade with disgust.

Purple face. Bulging eyes. Hands scrabbling at the garrote.

I pushed the guilt down. "He's enslaving the world, he needs to be stopped, Chasity."

"He's making it a better place," Chasity retorted.

"Of course you think that. You're still his slave!"

"I am," Chasity asserted, voice full of pride, "and that's why I can't stand down. He's my Master."

"And you threw your life away for him!"

"No!" There was anger in Chasity's voice. "My death was not in vain! He learned compassion! He stopped seeing us as merely things, but as humans with hearts. That's why he set you free! He felt guilty for what happened to me. He learned compassion from my death. He's just human, he's made mistakes!"

"He's a beast, a monster. He unleashed Lilith, and look at all the harm she's caused!"

"Lilith tricked him!" Disgust curled Chasity's lip, her eyes flickering to the abomination cluched in my hand. "You summoned Ashtoreth, and you call him a monster? He's never murdered anyone! I know what you had to pay for that blade! Whom did you strangle?"

Bulging eyes and a purple face starring up at me.

"I did what I had to!" I spat.

"The excuse of a tyrant."

"I am a Patriot!" I shouted, rage screaming from my lips, and I swung the blade at her face. The mists parted before the blade, snapping back like a taut string severed; the fog screamed in my mind as oblivion claimed a small portion of it. Chasity raised her silver sword, and negative black struck shining silver, locking together with a sickening screech that vibrated my bones. I drew back and hammered another blow at her; she parried. Again and again I slammed Annihilation at her; again and again she blocked my fury.

"Are you so eager for oblivion?" I snarled. "One slip-up and you're gone, Chasity! Just let me pass!"

"I will face oblivion for him," Chasity resolved, her face fierce and beautiful, her voice full of passion. "He is my Master."

I had tasted that passion before. Memories of that night—her last night alive—we had shared flashed through my mind. We had loved each other passionately; I had been consumed in ecstasy for this woman. The emotions I had beaten down into the depths of my soul after Chasity's death came rushing out, screaming in protest as I strove to drive my blade into her body.

"Please," I begged, trying to bottle them up again, but they were like a gas hissing into the atmosphere, impossible to rebottle. "Please don't make me do this." I could feel the tears rolling down my cheek.

"Then stop! Walk away." Her sapphire eyes softened. "I think I loved you that night. Maybe, if I hadn't died, we could have been something more."

Her words slapped me, and I stumbled back. No! Be strong! Liberty has its price! Blood must be shed, even if it's the blood of your friend, your lover. With an animalistic scream, I leapt at her. Annihilation swung through the mist, the fog crying out in pain as the blackest blade cleaved through the vapors towards Chasity's body. For just the merest moment, profound grief and regret flashed across Chasity's face, then iron-hard resolve glinted in her sapphire eyes; her sword stabbed forward.

It didn't hurt as her blade slipped between my ribs.

Annihilation fell from my suddenly useless hands before the abominable sword could connect with Chasity. For a moment I stood there, impaled upon the silver blade, staring into Chasity's ice-blue eyes. Her face broke, twisting into sadness. She reached out with a trembling hand to me, but my legs buckled and became useless; I slid backwards off her blade, landing on the ground with a grunt. I stared up at the never-ending mist as my lifeblood spilled out, staining the gray ground red. I shivered, a numbing cold spreading through my limbs. Chasity stood over me, tears running like silver rivulets down her cheeks, and bent down and picked up the terrible blade.

"Do it," I whispered, the guilt consuming my soul. I had murdered that girl for the blade. She had been so full of life, and I was only full of death. "Send me to oblivion."

She swung the sword at my head.

Only it missed, burying in the gray ground just above the crown of my head. Something inside me snapped, the chain wrapped around my soul—my slave chain—was severed, setting me free from bondage to Lucifer. Free from his torment, but not free from my punishment.

"I don't deserve this," I sobbed as Chasity knelt down next to me, grasping my hand. A rough, wet cough rattled out of my throat; copper filled my mouth. "She was an innocent."

Chasity stroked my face, bent down, and kissed me on the lips. When she pulled away, they were stained red. "We all make mistakes, Noel. Some are just worse than others."

"I'm scared," I whimpered. The cold was spreading through my torso; my vision shrank, leaving only Chasity's beautiful face. "Don't let me go."

"I won't," she whispered.

"I'm so sorry, Roxy," I cried out. That was her name. Roxy. She had run away from home; from one horrible adult to an even worse one. She had wanted to be an actress, going to Hollywood would be her big break. I stole that from her for something as meaningless as vengeance.

My eyes closed; regret filled me. That was living, regretting all the hurts you heaped on your friends, your family, on strangers; regretting all the missed opportunities—chances to have fun, to take risks, to experience love and companionship. What was the point in living if you never actually lived. I had let the anger and rage at Mark consume me, burning out all the good parts of my soul and leaving behind only ashes. Regret.

My heart slowed. All feeling faded away from me, the clammy mist upon my face, the rough ground beneath my back, the shuddering pain in my torso. Every sensation was bleeding from my body except one single hand gripping mine, full of love and forgiveness. I clutched at that hand as I hung over the precipice of death. I didn't want to be alone and full of regrets. I wanted love. I wanted Chasity.

My heart stopped beating.

My soul fell into the darkness; I held on to Chasity's hand with a death grip, unwilling to let go. I was like a woman hanging from a cliff mere moments from plummeting to her death. Her only hope is a strand of flimsy grass. So she clutches it, knowing the blades are too weak to support her weight, but not caring because she so desperately wants to live that she'll do anything, no matter how impotent, to survive. I didn't want to plummet off my cliff, so I clutched Chasity's hand with all my strength—my blade of grass—and hoped for a miracle.

Sometimes miracles can happen.

I opened my eyes; Chasity's face shone above me. I sat up, leaving my physical body behind; the mist assaulted my corpse, dissolving it like styrofoam in nail polish remover. Joy surged through me—I wasn't going to be alone! I hugged her, and kissed her on the lips, warm and wonderful. Her arms wrapped around me, holding me tight, and her lips kissed down my cheek to my ear.

"I didn't let go," she whispered. "You're one of us now. Somehow your soul is tied to mine."

"I chose love," I answered, caressing her cheek. "I didn't want any more regrets."

To be continued...

---

The Devil's Pact Chapter 49: The Victors' Reward

mypenname3000

Fantasm, Anal, Blowjob, Cum Swallowing, Female/Female, Group Sex, Lactation, Lesbian, Male / Females, Male/Female, Mind Control, Oral Sex, Transgendered, Wife

Introduction:

Alison and Desiree are rewarded for destroying the Patriots, Sam has found the key to capturing Lucifier, and Lilith has found a weapon to destroy Mark.

Who were the Patriots? Who wrote their Manifesto? After the ravages of the Demon Wars, only speculation was left behind. The only clue that had survived was a paper that had purportedly been found in a safety deposit box in Philadelphia. On this paper were thirty-seven names, the supposed roster of the Patriots, and at the head of the list was the name Noel Heinrich. Noel had been an FBI Agent that had briefly fallen into the Tyrants' powers, one of the many women forced to be their sex-slave. No records survived to indicate what Noel's fate was after parting ways with the Tyrants in June of 2013.

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

Thursday, May 6th, 2014 – Samnag Soun – Qumran

My words trailed off as Alison hung up abruptly. I hoped she would be all right. I liked Alison. Besides being a great fuck, there was an honest enthusiasm about the slut.

"What a bitch," Candy muttered, taking the satphone from me. "She should show you more respect, Sam."

"I think it was a little intense where she was," I shrugged, turning back to the black, iron wall we uncovered beyond the red stone. It was a Matmown. Excitement bubbled in me as the Palestinian laborers excavated it out, searching for the door. Something important must be buried here!

"Holy Vizier," a laborer bowed; he wore a leather choker about his neck.

The worship of Mark and Mary was spreading, and the Muslim world was plunged into as much chaos, or even more, as the Christian world . Every day more and more Muslims abandoned their faith, and violence abounded in the Middle East as the two sides clashed. Every day suicide bombers killed dozens. The laborers were watched carefully by a squad of Rangers bound to Mark. We had vetted the laborers, they all were worshipers of Mark, but the Patriots, one of Lilith's daughters, or a fundamentalist could have infiltrated the laborers to try and harm us.

"Yes?" I asked.

"We found the door," he answered.

Excitement bubbled through me, set my hands trembling, as I followed the man along the side of the half-buried wall to a door that had been dug out. "You are all dismissed for the day," I told the laborer. "Candy will pay you."

"Of course, Holy Vizier," he bowed.

I forced myself to wait until the laborers were all gone, standing before the iron door. Candy slipped into the excavation, a grin plastered on her face, and she enthusiastically hugged and kissed me. I ran my hand through her dyed hair, half-blue and half-pink, as we kissed. I was excited, my cock hard as Candy wiggled against me. But that could wait.

"Let's open it!" I exclaimed.

A pair of Rangers pried the door open with crowbars, the metal hinges protesting. It smelled like rust inside, and I pulled out my flashlight, shining the bright, LED light around it. There was a plinth, and an unrolled scroll resting atop it. It looked like papyrus, and I could see faded, brown writing on it. I walked forward, examining the scroll without touching it. Candy told the Rangers to wait outside, then had them close the door.

"Is it what we need?" Candy asked, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet.

"It's written in Aramaic," I answered, starting to translate as I read. "Its style reminds me of the Magicks of the Witch of Endor."

"Mary says our copy is incomplete," Candy pointed out. "And look at the scroll, the right side is torn, but the left side is more even."

She was right. "This is the end of a scroll. They used to write books on long rolls of papyrus or parchment. This looks like the final passages of a book." I bent down and found Lucifer's name written, and I smiled. "This is it!"

Candy squealed in excitement, throwing her arms around my neck, and kissed me exuberantly. Very exuberantly! Her lips hot, and her tongue lithe; she tasted sweet, and my cock ached for her as she ground her crotch against me. Her fingers fumbled at the loose, canvas pants I wore, popping the button off so she could snake her hand in and grasp my hardening cock. Our six month's in Israel, perusing through dried texts, had left little time for fooling around. The dam on my lust broke; we no longer needed to deny ourselves. Drunk on our success, I let the flashlight drop to the floor, its light waving wildly about the dark, metal room as it skittered across the floor.

"Oh, Sam," she husked, nibbling at my neck. "I need you in me! I'm so horny!"

I found the button for her pants, unsnapped it, and struggled to push them off her hips. She wiggled, helping me, and my hands found her naked ass; I gave her soft cheeks a squeeze. I burned to stick my cock in her, and to feel her tight, wet tunnel squeezing on my shaft. Her pants were tangled around her feet, stuck on her hiking boots.

"I need to be in you," I moaned.

"Let me get my boots off," Candy said, pulling away and letting go of my cock.

"No, get on your knees."

"Umm, that sounds fun," she giggled, kneeling on the hard metal floor. I knelt behind her, ignoring the hard metal, and slapped her ass. She squealed, looking back at me, her beautiful face lit on the right side by the flashlight. "Fuck me, Sam. Make me your bitch!"

I drove into her wet cunt, groaning loudly. "You are my bitch!" I groaned. "Mark gave you to me!"

"Yes, yes!" she panted. "Your bitch! I love it! I love being yours!"

I groaned, enjoying the feel of her cunt gripping my cock as I plowed in and out of her. I slapped her ass; she cooed loudly, and thrust her hips back into me. Her passion grew, and she wildly tossed her multicolored hair about.

"Fuck your bitch!" she moaned over and over. "Make me howl! Make me cum! Yes, yes, yes! Fuck, yes!" Her cunt convulsed about my cock, and she threw back her head and yelled as loud as possible as her powerful orgasm exploded through her.

I smacked her ass. "Howl bitch!" I groaned. "Keep squeezing your cunt, bitch. Make me cum!"

"I'll make you explode!" Candy husked, rolling her hips and clamping down with her cunt. "Fill me up with your cum! Yes, yes, I'll drain you dry!"

Our flesh slapped together, my ovaries boiling with passion. I gripped her hips, and pounded her cunt, driving my cock as hard as I could into her depths. I needed to cum! I needed to release that pressure, and spill my girl-cum inside my sweet Candy. My body tensed as my eruption drew closer and closer, and then every nerve in my body exploded, and I flooded my little bitch's cunt.

"Oh, fuck, I'm cumming again!" Candy cried, her body collapsing onto the iron floor as she quivered; a flood of my cum and hers flowed from her cunt, leaking white onto the black metal. She rolled onto her back and reached up, pulling me down and kissed me on the lips. "Mmmh, that was great," she purred. "I needed that so bad."

"So did I," I sighed, resting my head on her full breasts beneath her tight t-shirt. "I love you," I whispered sleepily.

I felt her body tense. "Really?" she asked.

I didn't mean to say it, but I looked her in the eyes, stroked her face. "Yeah, I guess I do. Ever since France."

She smiled, "I love you, too."

Our kiss was spectacular, fireworks exploding between our lips, and I let myself get lost in her soft touches. I kissed every inch of her face from her chin up to her brow, getting her cute little nose in the process, then I captured her sweet lips again. So wonderful, so soft. I stroked her pale cheek with my dark finger.

"Umm, Sam," Candy said, sounding a little embarrassed as she broke our soulful kiss, "my ass is freezing. This floor is kinda cold."

I laughed and slipped off of her, pulling up my pants after letting my dick shrink back into a little clit. Candy stood up and wiggled her tight pants over her hips. I retrieved the flashlight, and went back to the scroll.

"Why do you follow his orders?" Candy asked suddenly, hugging me from behind.

"Whose orders?" I asked, not really paying attention as I translated the text in my head.

"Mark's!" There was so much heat in her voice.

"Why wouldn't I follow his orders, I'm his vizier."

Candy turned me about. "You could be so much more." She grasped my hands, pulling them up to her lips and gently kissing them. "Mark would be nothing without you. You could make a deal with Lucifer and take his place. Or you can make one with another demon."

I frowned at her. "But I don't want to," I said.

"Are you sure you're content with being his errand bitch?"

I swallowed, staring into her eyes. Was I content following his orders, doing all the hard work for him? I felt off-balance, not sure what to say. "Grab the scroll case," I told her.

"Think about it," she whispered, stroking my hands. "You could be so amazing. I could be your Mary, standing at your side, guiding you to the greatness due you."

"Just grab the scroll case," I told her, my thoughts whirling. Could I betray Mark? Could I have his power? Did I even want his power? Candy dug around in her satchel, and found the scroll case, a tube of plastic, and hurried over.

What should I do?

Mark – The Mansion

Mary and I waited on the porch as Leah pulled the limo into the unfinished driveway, bringing Alison and Desiree home. Behind them, several SUV's followed, carrying their men. While we were at the Church this morning presenting our daughter Chase to our followers, Alison and Desiree were leading their troops against the Patriots' stronghold. Fifteen Patriots dead, and their army of golems destroyed.

I shuddered to think what would have happened if they hadn't stumbled upon their stronghold.

The limo pulled up, and Leah hopped out, looking quite fetching in her slutty chauffeur's outfit. Two maids walked up; one opened the limo's door, bowing, while the other helped a tired looking Desiree out of the vehicle. Our Latina slut was dressed in tan camo pants and a tan tank top. A smile lit up her face when she saw us. Desiree turned and helped Alison out. Her pink hair was dirty. No, her entire body was covered in reddish dust, and there was a bandage on her ass and another wrapped around her ankle. She had to hop about, leaning on Desiree, and, despite the pain, she beamed at us.

"Master, Mistress!" she shouted.

"Oh, my poor, little slut," Mary cried out, rushing to Alison and hugging her tightly. The teen was engulfed in scarlet light as Mary healed her.

"Thank you, Mistress," she sighed in relief, "the shrapnel in my ass was killing me."

"Good thing mi Reina healed your ass, it lost a lot of its beauty with an inch of metal sticking out of it," Desiree teased.

Alison stuck her tongue out at her wife. "I was going to let you kiss it better, but now I'm not."

Desiree laughed, and kissed her wife on the lips. "Liar, I bet you just want me to kiss your ass right now."

Alison giggled, "I do. Always."

Their soldiers were getting out of their SUV's, all of them experienced, hard-bitten men from various special forces. They had been hunting down Warlocks across the country for the last six months. The nineteen men—one had fallen today—lined up in formation and saluted me.

"Good job, men," I congratulated them, saluting back. "You did great work today."

"Thank you, my Lord," a Sergeant said, a smile creasing his serious face.

I held out my hand and shook with each of them. "Enjoy yourselves tonight," I told them. "We have rooms for you in the mansion. Your families are on the way, and feel free to avail yourself of the staff; all of the maids have been instructed to be extra friendly."

The Sergeant's eye drifted to one of the maids waiting on the porch. "That sounds great, my Lord."

I nodded, and walked over to my wife and our two sluts. "Master," Alison exclaimed, and threw her arms around me and kissed me exuberantly. She was my first slut, the only one that asked to be my slut, and I missed her these last six months. But Desiree needed to hunt down the Warlocks, and Alison needed to help her. I pulled Desiree to me and kissed her on the lips.

"My first two sluts," I sighed, an arm around each of them. "You two were amazing today. Let's get you cleaned up, and then you get to spend the night with me and Mary."

"Korina is going to watch Chase," Mary smiled. "We'll have all night to give you your reward."

Alison giggled wickedly. "Umm, all night. I can think of a few things to do."

Mary and I laughed, and led our sluts inside. All the other sluts appeared to hug Desiree and Alison, and give them kisses. "We've missed you," Korina gently said, holding Silas in one arm and Chase in the other.

"At least that amazing tongue," Lillian quipped, then waggled her tongue at Alison between two fingers, mimicking eating out a cunt. Alison pursed her lips, blowing her a kiss. Lillian laughed, then fell silent when her eyes landed on the soldiers entering after us, and they lit up with lust. "Umm, at least you brought a few rugged men to entertain me."

We led our sluts deeper into the house, to our private suite in the east wing. Two bodyguards were posted at the entrance, and I paused to give them both a kiss and to grope their breasts. Both guards were beaming happily after my affections. In our spacious bathroom, Mary bent down and started the jacuzzi bathtub, warm water quickly filling it up.

"You'll love it," Mary purred. "The jets are placed just right."

Alison gave my wife a wicked grin. "A special order then, Mistress?"

"Absolutely," Mary giggled. "Now strip, and dump your clothes in the hamper. Lets wash all that dirt off you. You're quite the mess, Alison."

"It's hard to stay clean when a five-hundred-pound clay man is chasing after you," Alison quipped. "I don't know how Desiree stayed so pristine."

"I watched where I was stepping," Desiree answered. "My clumsy Sirenita couldn't resist stepping into a rabbit hole and breaking her ankle."

Alison gave an indignant gasp. "I was hoping it would lead to wonderland so I could escape those monstrosities."

"And leave me behind," Desiree pouted.

Alison grabbed her wife's tank top, and pulled it off to expose her large breasts. She gave them a squeeze, saying, "All you had to do was flash these delicious melons at them, and they would have been your little slaves."

"Are you saying my breasts have magic powers?"

Alison nuzzled her face into them. "Absolutely. They've enchanted me from the beginning."

"I don't know," I said, eyeing my wife as she pulled her dress off, her perky tits coming into view. "I would say Mary's stacks up nicely." I copied Alison, and nuzzled my face into my wife's breasts.

"Mistress has an excellent pair of breasts," Alison proclaimed, rubbing her cheek on one of Desiree's nipples.

Mary eyed Alison, then reached out and fingered one of the slut's pierced nipples that topped her round breasts. "You aren't half bad."

"I couldn't agree more, mi Reina," Desiree purred. "Especially with her piercings." Desiree played with the other nipple; Alison had a huge grin on her face.

"The two women I love most are playing with my tits, what could be better?" Alison asked, kissing Mary's then Desiree's lips.

"What am I, a third wheel?" I asked.

"Wouldn't that be a fourth wheel?" Mary asked, nuzzling Alison's neck.

"Ohh, Master could stick that lovely cock of his into my cunt. That would make this better!" Alison exclaimed.

"After you're washed," Mary told her, then slapped her rear. "Get your filthy ass in the jacuzzi!"

"Yes, Mistress," Alison smiled, then sighed as she sank down into the warm water. Mary hit the jets and Alison's eyes widened. "Oh, fuck! Desiree, you have got to feel this!"

Mary added some lavender-scented bath oils as Desiree slipped into the tub, and moaned, "Ohh, that's lovely. The jets are on the seat, shooting right inside me."

"Mary loves them," I said. "She spent half her pregnancy in there."

"That was for my back and ankles," Mary protested, slipping in. "The jets were just a bonus."

The warm water felt great as I slid in after my wife, settling down between Desiree and Alison, and not sitting on one of the jets. It just felt weird. Mary laid her head on Desiree's shoulder, and the slut put her arm around my wife as Alison cuddled up to me. The teen's hand found my cock beneath the water, slowly jerking me off.

"Thank you," Mary whispered to Desiree.

"For what, mi Reina?"

"They were going to attack the Church," Mary answered. "You two may have saved our daughter's life, and all those other innocent people."

"We were lucky," Alison sighed. "If it wasn't for Sam and her dowsing pendulum..."

Desiree shifted, "How is she?"

"She's flying back, actually." I said carefully; Alison stiffened for a moment in my arms, recognizing the significance of that. It wasn't safe to say any more outside of the Matmown; anyone could be listening—Lucifer, Lilith, some other Power. We only had one hope, and it needed to be carefully protected.

"She has a nice cock," Alison cooed, nuzzling at my neck.

"As nice as mine?"

"No, Master," Alison purred, squeezing my dick hard as she stroked me. "No-one's is."

My lips found Alison's, her pierced tongue slipping eagerly into my mouth, exploring me like a curious kitten. My hands found her breasts, giving them a firm squeeze. Her hand stroked faster on my shaft, the water splashing. But I needed more than her hand; I wanted to be inside her, to know my beautiful slut in the most intimate way possible.

"Ohh, Master," she groaned as I pulled her onto my lap; her cunt impaled upon my dick.

I leaned back, relaxing against the side of the Jacuzzi, and watched her breasts bob as she slowly rode my cock. Beside me, Mary sat on Desiree's lap, kissing her furiously as Desiree's hand played between my wife's thighs.

"Aren't they beautiful," Alison purred in my ear as she slid her greased cunt up and down on my cock, working me like a jackhammer. "My wife is going to make Mistress explode."

I gave her tit a squeeze, moaning, "You're going to make me explode!"

"Good," she said with a satisfied smile. "That's the point. Explode in me, Master! It's what my cunt was made for! It's yours!"

Mary writhed like a flower in the wind as Desiree's fingers worked inside her. Mary broke the kiss, moaning loudly, "You delicious slut! Make me cum! Oh, fuck!" My wife buried her face into our Latina slut's neck, and sucked hard, adding a hickey to the one Desiree already had.

"Cum for me!" Desiree hissed. "My beautiful Goddess! ¡Córrete para mi, mi Reina!"

Alison's hungry mouth found mine, and I explored her mouth, enjoying the hard stud of her piercing rubbing against me. Her hips bucked, her cunt squeezed. I groaned my passion, and exploded into her cunt—my beautiful Alison's cum-hungry cunt. She gasped, moaning as I fed her my seed, and she shuddered as her ecstasy burst within her.

"Oh, Master," she sighed, settling her weight on me, and leaning her head against my shoulder.

We watched Desiree finger Mary to a violent cum, my wife shuddering so hard that she slipped off Desiree's lap and slid into the middle of the jacuzzi. When she broached the surface, she was grinning, the hard tips of her breasts just appearing above the rippling surface; dark red that flashed amid the frothy white.

"You didn't cum, Desiree," I said.

She smiled. "Oh, I came! The jets took care of me."

"Oh, Master, can we get one for our room?" Alison asked me, bouncing on my cock, her cunt squeezing life back into my shaft.

"Sure," I told her as she writhed her hips.

Desiree pinched Alison's ass, "Stop hogging his cock. We're supposed to share everything."

"Fine," Alison pouted, pulling her cunt off my cock.

"Sit on the edge of the jacuzzi," Mary said, "and I'll clean all that cum out of your pussy."

Alison practically leapt out of the jacuzzi, spreading her legs and showing off her tight slit that oozed white cum. Mary buried her face in the slut's snatch, and the teen leaned back, moaning loudly, her breasts heaving, beads of water running across those beautiful orbs. Desiree turned away from me, her beautiful ass in my face for a moment before she sat down on my lap, on my cock, and moaned as she impaled herself upon me.

"Mi Rey," she sighed happily.

I reached around her and found her heavy breasts; I squeezed them, enjoying their firm plumpness as Desiree slowly pumped her ass on me. I kissed her nut-brown shoulder, pushing her wet hair out of the way. Her cunt squeezed and relaxed on my cock, stoking my fires skillfully as I played with her nipples.

"Let me taste you, Mistress," Alison begged.

Mary's face came up sticky, a smile on her lips. "I thought you'd never ask, slut."

She quickly straddled Alison's face; the slut's pink tongue glinted silver as she swiped it through my wife's cunt. Mary shuddered in delight, then bent down and buried her face into the teen's snatch, and the two noisily pleasured each other.

I nibbled on Desiree's ears as she slowly made love to me. She did most of the work by squeezing her cunt on my cock, only sliding her pussy up an inch or two on my shaft. I dipped one of my hands into the water, slid down her flat stomach, and found her hard clit. Her cunt squeezed harder on my dick as I fingered her little nub, her breath quickening.

"Umm, that's wonderful, mi Rey," she sighed. "I love you."

"I love you, too, slut," I whispered into her ear. "You and your delightful wife."

Mary raised her face from Alison's cunt. "What about me?"

"I love you, too, Mare," I answered. "My naughty filly."

"I know you love me, Mark," Mary sighed in exasperation, rolling her eyes. "I was talking to Desiree."

"Of course I love mi Reina," Desiree answered. "How could I not love you?"

Mary buried her face back into Alison's cunt, and the slut's hands gripped my wife's plump ass, digging into her cheeks as she shuddered in pleasure beneath my wife's assault. A muffled moan escaped the slut's lips as she munched on my wife's muff. It was so hot; I loved watching two women sixty-nining.

"Here it comes, Desiree," I groaned, and then I shot my load into Desiree's cunt.

"Ohh, that felt like a big one mi Rey," she purred, her cunt still squeezing my cock as my finger diddled her clit.

I rubbed her clit faster and harder, feeling the slut's cunt squeeze tight on my cock as she fidgeted. Her breathing grew faster, her moans rising in pitch, then she bent over as the pleasure spasmed through her body, and screamed wordlessly.

We watched our wives pleasure each other, driving each other to cum over and over, while Desiree rode my cock one more time, and we shared another cum. Mary and Alison were lost to their pleasures, and rolled about on the tiled floor, clutching each other, until they collapsed in a tangle of quivering limbs. After a minute of heavy breathing, they slipped back into the tub. Mary cuddled against me, and Alison against Desiree. I kissed my wife, and enjoyed the taste of Alison's honey on her lips.

We relaxed in the jacuzzi for another half hour; some maids brought champagne for the sluts and me, and an iced tea for Mary—she was nursing, and the alcohol would get into her breast milk. We enjoyed our cold, refreshing drinks and hot, relaxing water. The maids who served our drinks disrobed: a curvy brunette named Abigail, a sultry Hindu woman named Karishma, a MILF with green eyes named Pearl, and a petite Japanese girl named Tomoyo, and they began to bathe us. Alison enjoyed Abigail's soapy, pillowy tits massaging her back, while Mary laid down on the tiles and let Tomoyo writhe her entire soapy body atop her. I found the way Desiree's nut-brown skin and Karishma's red-brown skin rubbing together, covered in frothy soap, was hypnotic as Pearl washed my cock with her soapy breasts.

"Master, you sure know how to live," Alison purred after we all had been washed.

"I'm honored you enjoyed it," Abigail smiled to Alison as she rubbed a terry-cloth towel across the slut's body. "You tasted heavenly."

Pearl was drying me off, my cum still staining her big tits. Mary was already slipping into the bedroom, trailed by Desiree. Alison pulled away before Abigail could quite finish drying her, eager for some more fun, a broad smile on her lips. I was glad both my sluts were enjoying themselves; they had been so dour the last few times we had actually seen them. They had earned some happiness.

"You did great, sluts," I praised the maids, and they all curtsied, despite being nude; they all looked both simultaneously erotic and comical as they held up imaginary skirts. "We'll want dinner in an hour."

"Of course, Master," Pearl murmured. She was the chief maid, and barked orders at the other three. The maids scurried off, Abigail and Tomoyo holding hands.

Mary was reclined on our bed, massaging her breasts. "Are you okay, mi Reina?"

"Just filling up," my wife answered. "I need to relieve the pressure. Any volunteers?" Mary's smile was arched and naughty; Alison practically threw herself on the bed, grabbed a nipple with her mouth, and nursed.

Desiree stretched out on the other side, teased Mary's dusky-red nipple, and a droplet of white milk appeared. Desiree's tongue gently lapped up the drop. She cooed in pleasure, "It's so sweet."

"There's plenty more," Mary said, stroking her damp hair.

"Ohmygod!" Alison squealed, sounding like the teenager she is. "Ohmygod, ohmygod, it's delicious, Mistress!" Then she buried her mouth back into Mary's tit, and I could hear her sucking hungrily as I watched.

Desiree latched onto the other nipple, sucking gracefully as her wife pigged out on the other tit. Alison's shapely ass wiggled about as she sucked noisily at my wife's breast, her brown asshole winking at me between her pale cheeks. It beckoned to me.

I answered its call, kneeling behind Alison. My hands rubbed through her pussy, coating my fingers with her sticky honey, and smeared them on my cock. I gathered more juices, and shoved them into her tight ass. Alison glanced back at me, and smiled with milky lips, before diving back into her feast.

"Fuck the slut's ass," Mary cooed.

I slid home into Alison's tight ass; the little slut writhed her hips, and squeezed down on my cock. I started to pump slowly, reveling in the feel of her hot depths, my balls gently slapping against her taint.

Mary emerald eyes flashed at me as pleasure radiated through her body, shifting about as if she lay on hot coals, unable to stay still for long. "Oh, God!" she gasped. "My pussy is so wet! I need something! Touch me, lick me, anything! I'm on fire!"

Desiree smiled, whispered, "I haven't tasted mi Reina's beautiful pussy tonight."

"Do it!" Mary hissed. "Eat me out!"

Desiree kissed down my wife's lush body, licking her belly button, before she reached the fiery heart Mary styled her pubic hair into. Desiree descended lower, finding Mary's pink flower, and drank deeply from her nectar. The effect on my wife was electric: her back arched, and she moaned her orgasm loudly. Our slut drank her pussy juices as eagerly as she had drunk her breast milk.

Alison's ass was tight and hot as I reamed her, my eyes going back and forth from the teen's lips eagerly nursing at my wife's breast, to my other slut eagerly nursing at Mary's cunt. Then Desiree latched onto my wife's little clit, and sucked hard. My wife shook as a second orgasm crashed through her.

"Yes, yes, yes!" Mary gasped. "You filthy sluts! I love you both!"

I picked up the speed, pounding Alison's ass harder, my eyes feasting on the tableau laid out before me. Alison moaned about Mary's nipple, slamming her ass against my thrusts. Mary's hand reached out, and her fingers brushed my balls as she searched for Alison's cunt. When she thrust them in, the teen tightened her ass on my dick, and I could feel my wife's questing fingers as she explored the slut's tunnel.

Mary's fingers found the right spot; Alison exploded like a firework, her ass clenching down so tight it became hard to thrust my cock inside her. The pleasure she gave me was intense, stoking the fire in my balls as I reamed her vice-like ass. I slammed two more times into her, then groaned as I spilled my cum inside her bowels.

I slapped Alison's ass, saying, "Good fuck."

"Thank you, Master," she sighed.

I crawled to the other side of Mary, and snuggled up against my wife. She was shuddering in pleasure, Desiree's tongue sending her into orgasm after orgasm. I kissed her lips, then bent down and sucked her nipple into my mouth. I loved her milk, so warm and sweet as it filled my mouth. Mary's hand wrapped around my head, stroking my face as she moaned in delight.

"I love you, Mark," she whispered as I nursed, her hands stroking my face.

I stopped nursing, and gave my wife a milk-filled kiss. "Love you," I whispered, then went back to enjoying her breasts.

When dinner came, Mary's breasts had been drained by the three of us, and the two sluts were licking my cock clean of Alison's ass while Mary cuddled up beside me, happily exhausted from her multiple orgasms.

"Thank you, Master," Alison smiled, my cum dripping from her face. "This has been the best night we've had in forever."

Desiree nodded happily. "It's always good to spend time with your family."

Wednesday, July 16th, 2014 – Fiona Cavanagh – The Ruins of Babylon, Hillah, Iraq

We watched Abby as she examined the ruins, crumbling white walls jutting out of the yellow-white sand. It was night, the air cool after the blistering heat of the day. Cars passed on the nearby highway and, off in the distance, sirens could be heard. Probably another suicide bombing. The Muslims were always clashing with the Miraclists in the Middle East. Men fighting over their stupid differences, while women were caught in-between.

Abby sniffed at the air, moving with a sinuous grace. She was a Dabbat, a serpent-like daughter of Lilith with affinity for the earth. She could move rocks with her mind, using them as weapons, or burrow her body quickly through dirt and stone. She was brown-skinned, her eyes yellow and slitted like a serpent's, and there was absolutely no hair on the woman—not on her head and none between her legs. It lent her an exotic appeal, sparking arousal in me as she gracefully moved across the earth.

"This is the place," she hissed, her voice sibilant, then she dived into the sand and smoothly disappeared in a cloud of brown dust. This was the seventh ruin in the Middle East we've been to over the last six months. Whatever it was that we searched for, Lilith had only confided in Abby.

"Come wait in the tent," Thamina called.

I glanced back and saw my wife peering out of the small pup tent she had erected, her naked breasts shining in the moonlight. I smiled and quickly moved to the tent—Abby did say it would take a while. And what better way to pass the time?

Thamina attacked me when I entered the tent, her mouth hot as she pulled me to the sleeping bag, the air mattress crinkling beneath us. "Hmm, someone's horny, eh, Mina?"

"Get that shirt off, husband," my wife husked.

She insisted on calling me husband, even though I was a woman. Well, mostly a woman; I could transform my clit into a cock, and that made me the man in our marriage as far as Thamina was concerned. She still clung to the prejudices of her Muslim upbringing; to her, it wasn't quite homosexuality if she pretended I was the 'man'.

Thamina attacked my breasts the moment my shirt was off, sucking my hard nipples into her lips, forcing me to lie down on a rolled out sleeping bag. The moonlight glowed weakly through the fabric, and I noticed dark symbols drawn on the inside. Why would Thamina ward our tent? My question was lost as her teeth nibbled lightly on my breast; I moaned loudly.

Thamina suddenly released my breast, spun about and straddled my face, her furry cunt descending to my lips, and my tongue eagerly found her slit. She tasted tangy and sweet, a delicious combination; I explored her flower, probing my tongue into every delicate, pink fold. Her black down tickled my lips; Mark made us shave our cunts, but we let them grow out. Men lust after youth, and delight in a smooth pussy. But we were women, and we enjoyed each other's natural beauty.

"My beautiful husband," Thamina purred as she shoved my pants roughly down my legs and buried her face in my red-furred snatch.

I moaned into her pussy as she started licking mine. Sometimes Thamina wanted my cock, and other nights she wanted to love me when I was all woman. I didn't care; so long as she loved me I was happy with her choice. Her tongue pushed into my hole, fucking me as her chin bumped my clit, sending jolts of pleasure through me. Goddess, I was going to cum fast the way the vixen was working my pussy.

Well, two could play that game.

My mouth found her clit, sucking her little bud into my lips as my nose buried into her slit, every breath filled with her enchanting aroma. Thamina moaned in pleasure into my pussy, and then I was flooded with her juices, thick and sticky, as they covered my face. I drank them down, savoring her flavor. She slipped a finger inside me, wiggling it about my tight tunnel. I exploded. I bucked beneath my wife, screaming my pleasure into the night air.

When I opened my eyes, coming off my wonderful orgasm, I realized my wife had flipped around, her lips at my ears. "We need to talk quietly," she whispered.

I tensed. "About what?"

"Do you think we made the right decision?"

"What, to come out to the ruins of Baghdad and find the dagger for Lilith?" I asked, foreboding filling my heart and causing it to beat faster.

"No, serving Lilith."

"What choice did we have?" I asked her. "She's protecting us from Mark."

"Maybe," Thamina said. "But, what about what she's done? My daughter helped to kill billions."

"Men," I said dismissively, then I saw the hurt in Thamina's eyes, the guilt.

"Humans, like us," Thamina countered. How had I never seen the wounds in her soul?

I frowned. "I thought you hated men. That's why you volunteered to lead the searches." Many women in Seattle foolishly tried to hide their men, whether they were their husbands, sons, brothers, fathers, or even complete strangers. Thamina lead the search, trying to uncover the women who hid the vermin and smuggled them out of the city.

"You ever wonder why I don't find that many men?" she asked.

I didn't want to know the answer.

"I help them to escape. Only a few get captured, sacrifices to keep Lilith placated." She kissed my fingers. "I just couldn't sit by and do nothing. It's the right thing to do."

"I guess," I frowned. It was easy to think of men as nothing but animals, creatures not worthy of compassion or mercy.

"I think we chose the wrong side, Fiona."

"And Mark's the right side? He made us his slaves?" I demanded, my voice rising in anger.

"Shush, Abby may be listening," Thamina cautioned. "And Mark never killed anyone."

"He killed plenty when he attacked us last November."

"We attacked him first. Lilith sent her Dimme to kill him, and Luka to kill his Vizier. Lilith started this war and..." She took a breath. "And she can't possibly win. Half the world follows them! He has the US Military under his control!" Whatever levy holding back her doubts had broken, and her words spilled out like a hissing flood. "And not to mention the European Militaries! We're outnumbered and outmatched. He has nukes, cruise missiles, predator drones, and who knows what else! She's deluded herself into thinking she can win!"

"You want us to side with Mark, is that it?" I couldn't hide the disgust in my voice.

"No, I want us to survive." She wrapped her arms tight about me. "I don't want to lose you."

"You won't," I told her. " I can understand helping the men to escape, but we can't betray our Goddess."

"I'll follow you, husband, if you want to stay. But please think about it. Are you really okay with what Lilith is doing?"

Was I okay with it? I thought I was, but I could see the guilt in Thamina's eyes. Had she been hiding this from me this entire time? Hurt filled me; my wife didn't share her feelings with me. I looked up at the tent ceiling, my mind whirling, and I saw her symbols. She had warded the tent, she's afraid of being overheard, of Lilith finding out about her doubts. I hugged my wife tight.

I shivered. What would Lilith do if she found out?

Kill us both.

Fear gripped my heart; what the hell had we gotten ourselves into?

Thursday, July 17th, 2014 – Mark Glassner – The Mansion

"It's aney, Alison," Sam said, making a guttural A sound. "It's a glottal stop, like the pause between 'oh-oh'. Aney laged helel ben shakar 'em penyenh zeh. Kevhev yheyh mevgebl." Sam made the Hebrew sound so easy.

"Why can't we just use English," Alison complained. "Summoning rituals work in English."

"Lucifer will be hard enough to trap; it has to be in Hebrew," Sam admonished. "And it has to be perfectly. If any of you do not pronounce it exactly right, the spell will not be strong enough to bind him and it'll backfire, destroying the diamond."

We were practicing the trap to bind Lucifer, and a great deal of progress had been made in the two months since Sam returned. All the pieces were ready: a golden rod topped with a diamond the size of my fist and carved with Hebrew words, and five brass rods tipped with smaller diamonds, and also carved with Hebrew. Mary would be the focus, holding the gold rod, and five others would wield the brass rods, stand in a circle about Lucifer and Mary, and chant Sam's phrase. My job would be to fight Lucifer, and keep him contained in the circle long enough for the ritual to be cast. Then he would be trapped in the diamond atop the gold staff.

The five who would wield the brass rods were: Sam, Candy, Alison, Desiree, and Jessica. Sam and Candy were the best at Hebrew—Candy had spent the last year learning it from Sam—and Alison and Desiree had the most experience in combat. Out of the rest of the sluts, Jessica was the most unflappable. Xiu, Korina, Lillian, Violet, April, and Willow were also learning the ritual. They would be backups if anything should happen to one of the primaries. I had learned in the last year that things happened in combat—people would get hurt or could die.

We had to be ready to perform the ritual if it was ever necessary to take out Lilith. In a perfect world, she would be content with Seattle, and Lucifer would never be unleashed—but this wasn't a perfect world. It was far from it. Killing Lilith would only be an absolute last resort. If it came to conflict between us again—and it would, I could feel it in my gut—we aimed to capture her. So once a week, we would meet in the Matmown until all the sluts could say the phrase flawlessly. They were getting better.

"Again," Sam said, walking around the Matmown in the basement of our mansion, listening to Mary and each of the sluts as they struggled to say the Hebrew words. Hebrew had a number of sounds that were not found in English, and were hard to learn properly. Particularly the letter aleph, the glottal stop that sounded like a cut off A.

Sam was a patient teacher, a smile on her round face as she corrected Mary and the sluts' pronunciation. She encouraged everyone, and even had me practicing. After an hour, Sam was satisfied with the progress. "If you have free time, come into the Matmown to practice," Sam said. "Especially you, Lillian."

"Maybe I need some one-on-one time," Lillian husked. "You could show me just how to use my mouth."

"I can think of a few ways to use your mouth," Candy giggled, then slapped Lillian on the ass.

Mary kissed me on the lips. "I have to go do the Portuguese broadcast, then I have my spa appointment. I want to be perfect for our anniversary."

"How could you not be perfect?" I asked her.

She kissed me a second time. "Thanks, hun."

We were going to Hawaii for our one year anniversary. Sometimes it seemed like a lifetime had passed since our wedding. Mary had a surprise planned for me, and had been making a few trips over there the last month to get things ready. After the honeymoon, my friend Chris was getting married, and then we would be off to the Middle East. It was time to stop the fighting. Too many people were dieing for us over there. We owed it to them to intercede.

I opened the iron door, hinges squealing in protest. Abigail, a curvy maid, waited outside, holding little Chase. I scooped my daughter up in my arms, and smiled as she reached out with her tiny hands and grasped my finger. She was so beautiful. Mary gave our daughter a kiss on the forehead, before sweeping off.

"Master," Violet, my secretary, said, "The President is waiting in your office, he wants to talk about the Sapphicits in Idaho."

I looked at my daughter, cooing, "Do you want to come watch Daddy work?"

Chase gurgled.

"Alright, let's go."

Lilith – City Hall, Seattle

There was a knock at my door.

I sat in my office at City Hall. It was the former Mayor's office, and I had removed every trace of that filthy man's presence from it, replacing it with the ornamentation befitting my station: a rich, mahogany desk carved with depictions of my Godesshood; a plush, leather seat; lush ferns in potted plants flanked the windows; precious urns looted from the Seattle Art Museum; along with numerous paintings, and a gorgeous, Persian rug that lay before my desk. Riches that would have made any King of Babylon or Egypt weep.

"Come in," I purred.

Lana entered, full breasted, with wide hips. The blonde woman was gorgeous, for a human, and motherhood had only ripened her beauty. She was the first woman to bear another woman's child. She and Chantelle had named the daughter Lily, and their little baby was proof that my vision of a world without men was viable.

"My majestic Goddess," she purred, and prostrated herself before my desk. She was growing better at this.

"Rise, my priestess," I murmured.

A smile filled her round face. "Fiona and Thamina have returned, and Abby has asked to see you."

"Send her in," I ordered, excitement fluttering in my chest. This would be the seventh ruin searched, but the first time Abby had asked to see me. "And your wife if she waits outside."

"She's with Lily," Lana replied. "Our daughter has a touch of colic."

"Very well."

Lana disappeared for a moment, then returned with Abby. The Dabbat walked with a sinuous grace, a white bundle in her hand. My heart quickened. They found it so fast? I expected the search to drag on for months yet. So much of the Ancient world was lost, so much destroyed and buried. Abby knelt, holding her bundle up before me in supplication. I motioned my hand. Lana took the bundle, and walked over to me, bowing her head as she handed it over.

My hand shaking, I pulled apart the white cloth that bound the dagger. The blade was ugly, roughly made from cold iron. It was one of three Mispach, the bloody daggers forged by the first murderer, Cain, from a star that fell in the lands of Nod.

"I am well pleased with you, daughter," I smiled at Abby, gazing down at her naked, brown body. She was sinuous and beautiful, entirely hairless. Her slitted eyes stared at me with hope. I reached out, stroked her smooth cheek. She shuddered, hissing her pleasure as she climaxed. "You have earned your reward."

With a thought, my clothes vanished into red smoke, and I summoned my cock. Abby's long, thin tongue flickered out at the sight. I pushed her across my desk, her round ass staring at me. Her cunt was dripping wet, filling the air with an earthy musk. I speared her; she came, her cunt writhing around my shaft.

I glanced at Lana, my ass pumping away. "Go find Haja and bring her to me."

"At once." Lana bowed and left.

I plowed into my daughter's tight sheath. She hissed as her body writhed. Her back arched in ways that would break a human's back, lithe and sinuous. She kept cumming, overwhelmed by my Lust. I drank in her passion. It felt as delightful as her cunt spasming upon my cock.

"Yes, yes!" she hissed. "I'm your whore, mother!"

"You are!" I groaned. "My wonderful, delightful whore!"

I increased the Lust flowing into her. She screamed, her back twisting around. I grabbed a small tit, pinching her dark nipple between my finger. I kept pounding her snatch. She never stopped cumming. My orgasm built quickly; Haja would be here soon, and I allowed myself to flood her cunt with my black seed.

"Thank you, thank you!" hissed Abby, my cum leaking out of her pussy as she collapsed to the floor. "I love you, Mother!" Her long tongue licked at my feet; I savored the wet, wonderful sensation.

"I love you, too, daughter," I lied; my daughters were merely tools to increase my power, and no matter how useful you found your tools, you didn't love them. "You are dismissed, Abby."

My daughter stood, bowed, and stumbled out of the room past Lana. I hadn't noticed my priestess return. Her eyes glanced down to my still hard cock drenched in Abby's juices, lust shining in those blue depths.

"Haja is on her way, my Goddess," Lana bowed. Her eyes flickered to the dagger sitting on my desk, full of apprehension. "What is that?"

I picked up the dagger, and answered her question: "Mark Glassner's death."

I nicked my finger with the blade. A single, dark bead of blood welled from the cut and landed upon the black metal. For a moment the dagger burned red, drinking in my blood, and binding itself to my life. I could feel the cursed thing like an ugly, throbbing wound upon my forehead.

"A single cut from this blade will kill any man or woman in minutes," I explained. "Nothing can heal its wounds once it has been bound."

"Nothing?" Lana asked. "Not even the Tsariy ritual?"

"Not even that," I answered, then hesitated. "Well, no, my life is bound into the blade, and only my life's blood could heal the wounded."

"I see," Lana replied carefully. "Isn't that taking a risk? Shouldn't I be bound to it? Or one of your daughters?"

I smiled at her. "No, it's more satisfying this way."

I stared at the blade. In November, Mark would stand before me, and I would get to watch him die, writhing in pain, helpless like the worm he is. It would be so satisfying knowing that I was his only salvation, that if he wasn't writhing in pain, all he had to do to survive was kill me. And then the world would be mine; I would cleanse it of every single, last man—purged as clean of the vermin as Seattle.

There was a knock; Haja entered, thin and pale, as if she had no color—except her eyes, they were an ever-shifting rainbow. She was an Aja, capable of manipulating light, and could bend it about her and hide in the distortion, or she could focus the light to a bright beam that would slice through almost anything. Chantelle called her power a 'laser'—one of the many filthy things invented by men in this time.

I carefully wrapped the dagger, and handed it to Haja. "Take this to Ziki," I commanded. "Do not cut yourself with the blade."

"Yes, Mother," Haja answered, her voice little more than a whisper.

"And do not be seen! I will be most displeased!"

"I won't, Mother!" She trembled in fear before me.

"Good, go," I smiled.

As Aja left my office, I saw Crystal waiting outside. The next group of women I needed to impregnate must be ready. Every woman in Seattle had to submit to my affections and bear me a daughter. When November came, and Mark Glassner lay dead at my feet, my army would be as numerous as the stars in the sky and would swarm across the world.

To be continued...

---

The Devil's Pact Side-Story: Mark and Mary's One Year Anniversary

mypenname3000

Fantasy, Anal, Blowjob, Cum Swallowing, Exhibitionism, Female/Female, Lesbian, Male / Females, Male/Female, Oral Sex, Romance

Introduction:

Mark and Mary celebrate their one year anniversary in Hawaii.

Sunday, July 20th, 2014 – Mark Glassner – Hawaii

"If everyone can please take their seats, we'll be landing in Honolulu in a few minutes," Lynda stated over Air Force One's intercom.

"I guess we have to get up," I sighed to Mary.

She pouted, "I don't want to."

We lay in bed in the small cabin that nestled in the tail of Air Force One. We spent the bulk of the six hour flight in here making love and enjoying each other's company as we celebrated our first year of marriage. So much had happened the last year: Brandon's Attack, the Fall of Seattle, the Wormwood Plague, the Patriots, and the birth of our beautiful daughter.

It seemed like we had lived a lifetime.

We left our daughter Chase with the sluts in Washington State. The only ones on the plane with us were a squad of bodyguards and the staff necessary to pilot it. I wasn't sure what awaited us in Hawaii; Mary had flown out several times with her father over the last month, all excited as she prepared a big surprise for our anniversary, and taking her father meant she was binding people with the Zimmah spell.

Hopefully, some nubile, island girls.

"C'mon," I said, scooping my wife up in my arms.

She threw her arms around my neck, nuzzling her face into my throat. "I love it when you carry me," she giggled. "It makes me feel so loved and protected. Safe in your arms."

I kissed her forehead. I loved carrying her; there was something sexy about carrying a naked, loving woman in your arms. "Than you better keep your girlish figure," I told her. "As long your light and nubile, I don't have a problem with it."

She giggled. "That's a pretty good incentive. I would hate to give this up!"

I sat her down in the seat and took the one next to her. She snuggled up next to me and I put my arm around her; my nose filled with the coconut scent of her shampoo and the salty, sweet musk of our love making.

"You smell wonderful," I whispered.

"You smell like sex," she answered. "Wicked, naughty sex."

"That's because I spent the last few hours with a wicked, naughty filly."

"Only wicked and naughty?" she asked.

"And beautiful and loving," I quickly added. "My Goddess."

She let out a happy sigh and gave me a deep, loving kiss.

Lynda and Joslyn flew the plane as skillfully as ever, touching down at Honolulu International Airport with a screech of tires and a roaring rumble as the plane slowed to a graceful stop, then taxied up to a waiting reception. Our flight attendants, the lovely Monique and Lize, opened the door and I embraced the delightfully busty Lize while Mary enjoyed a kiss and a grope from Monique.

Outside, the Legion guarded the perimeter and a ring of bodyguards, all wearing mirrored sunglasses, waited at attention around an open-topped, white Rolls Royce converted into a limo. The limo idled at the end of a red carpet and three Hawaiian women dressed in grass skirts and leis lounged against it.

"Do we need to get dressed?" I asked Mary.

"No," she answered. "It's our vacation. We don't need to wear clothes if we don't want to. Besides it's more than warm enough here in Hawaii."

I grinned at her, then eyed her naked, pale body. "And what about sunscreen."

Mary laughed, and patted my arm. "Mark, haven't you realized one of the side-effects of Molech's power?"

"What?" I frowned.

"We're pretty resistant to flames, remember." Mary rolled her eyes like she couldn't believe how dense I was. "You got pretty scorched last November by one of Lilith's daughters. You should have been killed, but you barely had second degree burns. The sun's not going to do anything to us. We might not even tan."

"Is that limo open-topped?" I asked. "Isn't that dangerous?"

"It's a custom job," Mary answered. "Just for Hawaii. I want to feel the air rushing through my hair as we drive."

"What about snipers?"

"Sam's had her hands on it. The car's been warded against projectiles. It's as safe as one of our armored limos."

I whistled. "You have been busy."

"And I expect you to show me just how much you appreciate all my hard work."

I grabbed her hand and brought it my cock. "Can't you feel how much I appreciate you, Mare?"

Her hand stroked me. "Well, at least one part of you does." She giggled and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. "C'mon, let's go meet the girls."

We had to wait a few minutes while they positioned the stair car, then beautiful Monique, one of our stewardesses, opened the cabin door. I gave her magnificent, bare breast a squeeze as she purred, "Enjoy your anniversary, sir," in her delightful, French accent. Her lover Lize, our other stewardess, gave Mary a passionate kiss and then gave me a playful slap on my naked ass.

The Hawaiian sun was bright, the rays warm on my skin, while a moist, cooling breeze blew in from the sea and set nearby palm trees to gentle swaying. Arm-in-arm, my wife and I descended the stairs. When we reached the bottom, the assembled bodyguards saluted us. They all were gorgeous in their navy blue uniforms, their tits about to spill out of their half unbuttoned blouses. They carried a mix of M16s, P90s, and MP5s.

Mary and I took our security very seriously.

The three Hawaiian girls that walked up were breathtakingly beautiful. They wore grass skirts, and not the fake kind, but actual grass tied about their waists. I could see exciting flashes of naked pussy through the strands of grass. They wore no tops, only a few flowery leis that did nothing to hide their golden breasts. As they walked up to us their hips rolled seductively; my cock hardened at the sight.

Mary gave my cock a quick stroke. "I know. Aren't they breathtaking?"

The first to reach me was a very busty, curvy young woman, with gold-brown skin, and a vulpine light glinting in the dark pools of her eyes. Her hair fell in white-gold strands about her shoulders, obviously bleached from her natural black, and she looked all the more exotic and lovely for it. The leis about her neck were made of orange and white flowers, and I could see gold rings piercing her brown nipples as the necklaces of flowers shifted about.

"Aloha," she gushed, pulling a lei over her neck and draping it over mine, then her body melted against me as she kissed me passionately; flowers and tits crushed against my chest. "I am Malia, and I hope you enjoy your time in Hawaii, my Lord."

Malia broke our embrace and greeted Mary just as passionately as the next Hawaiian slut stepped before me; a feisty smile on her lips, sweat glistening on her golden skin. Her hair was black, streaked with green highlights, and fell down to her waist. Peaking from beneath her leis of red and violet flowers were a pair of perky tits, about Mary's size.

"Aloha, I'm Apikalia, and I'm looking forward to making your stay as wonderful as possible, my Lord." She draped a lei about my neck, and kissed me with the same ardor as Malia.

The last girl was young, maybe sixteen. Her body slim and graceful, and her face cute and pixyish. Like the other two, her skin was a rich gold-brown, her hair deep black, and her eyes dark and sultry. A gold ring adorning her nose glinted as she walked up, distracting me momentarily from her budding breasts peaking through swaying leis made of yellow and blue flowers. She draped a lei about my neck and kissed me, grinding her groin against my hard cock.

"Aloha, my Lord," she sweetly greeted. "I'm Leilani."

"Wow, Mare," I breathed, taking in the sight of all three island girls.

"And there's more of them at the beach house," Mary smiled at me, giving my cock a nice, hard stroke. "Happy anniversary, Mark."

"You outdid yourself, Mare," I said in awe.

"What until the luau tonight." She paused, a nervous look in her eyes. "I've been practicing hard, so I hope you'll love it."

"Love what?"

Her smile was mysterious, promising, gorgeous. "You'll see."

Leilani opened the door for us, and Mary slid in. She then grabbed Leilani's hand and pulled the teen in after her. I watched as Mary slid across the seat, leaving room for me, and spread her legs. The Hawaiian teen smiled, fingered her blue-and-yellow leis, before kneeling down and burying her face in my wife's snatch.

"Oh, yes!" Mary purred. "You've been practicing I see."

"Every night," Leilani answered, her lips smeared with pussy juices. "All the girls let me practice on them."

Busty Malia laughed, her tits jiggling invitingly. "She's been very diligent, my Lady."

Malia's breasts were too inviting and, after I sat down on the white leather seat, I said to her, "Come sit on my cock, slut."

"Absolutely, my Lord," she breathed.

The vixen eagerly straddled my waist; her huge breasts smothered my face and filled my nose with the sweet scent of her flowers. Then she sank down on my cock with one move, her cunt tight, sopping wet, and wonderfully warm.

"Fuck, that's nice!" I grunted.

She moaned, "I knew your cock would be wonderful! All of us have been so excited to finally meet you!" She gave me a passionate kiss, then whispered in my ear, "And to fuck you!"

Apikalia, looking a little disappointed, climbed into the driver seat and started the limo up. An escort of cop cars, driven by the bodyguards, formed around us and we drove out of airport to the waiting crowds. Their love and adoration washed over us, excited to see their Gods. I waved to them as Malia rode my cock.

"Wave to them," I told Malia, looking out at the crowd. Women were baring their breasts, calling out my name, wanton passion in their eyes. "They envy you. They want to fuck their God, and you actually get to do it!"

"Oh, yes!" Malia moaned, and turned her head to gaze out at the adoring masses, her cunt tightening on my cock. She straightened, turning her shoulders to expose her breasts to the crowd and waved. "Oh, my Lord!" she screamed. "Your cock's filling my cunt all up! Yes, yes! I'm cumming! I'm cumming on a God's cock!"

I squeezed a heaving breast, her cunt clamping down hard on my cock, and she bucked atop me. Her head threw back, her bleached-blonde hair whipping in the wind. I buried my face in her leis, smelling sweet flowers and apricot shampoo, and found her hard nipple, sucking the brown nub into my lips. Her arms wrapped around my head, cradling me, as her hips kept rocking on my cock.

"Eat my pussy!" Mary moaned beside me. "You fucking little dyke! Eat me! Make me cum! I'm going to cover your slut face with my juices!"

I released the hard nipple. "Fuck me faster!" I told Malia, giving her plump ass a squeeze. "Make me cum in your filthy cunt!"

"Yes, yes!" she moaned. "Cum in me! My Lord, please! Flood my naughty pussy!"

We soon left Honolulu behind, moving through lush hills towards the beach house that Mary bought, Malia pumping her hips on me the entire time. I held off cumming, savoring the feel of her cunt as I admired the countryside. Lush jungle interspersed with sugar cane and pineapple plantations flashed by, followed by a large, grassy field along the slope of a volcano full of grazing cattle. The limo came around a bend and the blue of the ocean appeared before us. Malia kept fucking me hard, grinding her clit into my groin, while her hungry pussy tried to suck the cum from my balls.

Mary was on her third or fourth orgasm, when I felt that wonderful sensation of release nearing. I started thrusting up into Malia's inviting cunt, pulling her sweet mouth down and kissing her lips. My passion grew and I crushed her body to me, the flowers breaking apart and rubbing stickily on our chests as we fucked.

"You fucking slut!" I moaned. "Beg for my cum!"

"Please cum in me!" she purred. "I'm so fertile! I bet you would plant a baby inside me! Maybe a little girl! And when's she's all grown up, it could be her sitting on your cock as you drive through Hawaii!"

My balls erupted into her. I hoped my sperm would knock this slut up. In sixteen years, when our sixteenth wedding anniversary comes around, I could have a beautiful, Hawaiian daughter sitting on my cock. I shot five loads inside her, grunting with every one.

"Fuck, you are one nasty slut," I panted.

She giggled, "Thank you, my Lord."

I looked over at my wife, her eyes closed, enjoying the gentle licking of Leilani on her cunt. It looked like she had just cum and was enjoying the afterglow. I reached out and caught her right hand, squeezed it. "Thank you for this. I'm so glad I met you."

Her eyes opened lazily, a smile dimpling her cheeks. "Here's to a lifetime of anniversaries."

Nine more Hawaiian girls waited for us, and all greeted us with leis and kisses. I enjoyed Leilani's teenage cunt and Apikalia's ass before Mary suggested we go swimming. The water was warm, the surf gentle, and we laughed and kissed and groped each other in the sparkling blue waters of the lagoon before a white sand beach.

A few of the Hawaiian girls joined us, while the others prepared for the luau. There was even a pig roasting on a spit up the beach. It smelled wonderful, and my stomach started to rumble. Mary had retreated to a towel on the beach, sunning herself. I think she was holding out a vain hope that her pale skin could tan. A lush eighteen year old named Haukea busied herself between my wife's thighs.

I grabbed two girls—Melika and Kalena—and carried them to the beach to amuse myself while waiting for dinner. The girls were eager to play with my cock, kissing each other around my hard shaft until I erupted like a volcano upon their golden flesh. Giggling, they licked my cum off each other's bodies.

I joined Mary on the towel and fell asleep next to her and woke up to her moaning. I smiled, watching her on top of bleached-blonde Malia, grinding their pussies together and kissing passionately. I found Apikalia lounging nearby and she rode my cock while I watched Mary trib her girl. The sun set behind Apikalia's figure as she rode me, haloing the gorgeous Hawaiian with orange light.

The luau was ready not long after I came in Apikalia's cunt, and Mary and I sat on the sandy beach before a small table covered in food. Around the table burned smokey torches, filling the air with a sweet, sage fragrance to drive off the insects. The pig was the centerpiece, but other exotic dishes covered the table. Mary and I sat side-by-side, with teenage Leilani next to me and busty Malia next to Mary.

I grabbed a flute of champagne, and held it up to Mary. "You are the most beautiful woman in the world, the delight of my heart," I told her, staring into her green eyes. "Every day I am thankful I met you. I would be nothing without you: my wife, my lover, my companion, and my support."

"Oh, Mark, that was beautiful." Tears glistened in my wife's eyes. "You are a wonderful man that has made every day a joy for me. You swept me out of my boring old life and gave me a whole new world full of love and passion. I didn't live before I met you. You gave me life. You are my life."

I fought back my own tears at her beautiful words and we clinked our champagne flutes together, and then she glued her lips to mine and I lost myself in her kiss. The girls cheered and clapped for us; I barely heard them above the pounding of my heart. Something wet splashed on my chest, my champagne spilling out of my flute.

Mary giggled, breaking the kiss. "You made a mess, Mark."

"Why don't you clean it up?"

Mary bent down and licked at the champagne on my chest. She seemed to enjoy licking the champagne up, so I dumped some on her breast and sucked her hard nipple, a mix of bubbly champagne and sweet breast milk filling my mouth. Mary pulled my face up and we kissed, sharing her milk.

The food was excellent, and young Leilani had a lot of fun feeding me juicy pig, and sticky poi, and all the other delicious food as she straddled my lap, her ass impaled on my cock. I didn't fuck her, just enjoyed the hot sensation of her velvety bowels.

By the time we were finished eating, the sun had disappeared, leaving only a faint blush on the horizon; a memory of the sun slowly eroded by night's encroachment. Even with the sun setting, it didn't get that cold. The girls started to clear the feast away, while others dragged out a pair of huge drums. Leilani knelt on her hands and knees, and I vigorously fucked her ass.

"What's going on?" I asked, my balls slapping loudly against the teen's cunt.

"Your surprise," Mary said. "Don't take too long fucking the slut, Mark."

"Her ass is tight, I'm not going to last long, Mare."

"Good." She bent down and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. "I'll be back, I have to go change."

Mary's words teased me. What was going on? My balls boiled over and I basted Leilani's ass with a huge load. "Oh, thank you, thank you," she moaned, her orgasm rippling through her.

"You need to get ready," one of the girls yelled at Leilani and she scampered off into the darkness.

I sat back, excited for Mary's surprise. The torches about us were put out, and the only light was from a bonfire burning on the beach. I could see figures moving in the dark and anticipation grew within me. A steady, primal beat started up. Two of the girls were pounding away at the large drums. The deep bass rumbled through me, powerful and compelling.

My breath caught; the remaining girls spread out in front of the fire, their golden skin bathed orange, all dressed in leis and grass skirts. Mary stood at the center. She was a pale, beautiful rose amid a field of tulips. About her waist was a grass skirt, and a lei of white-and-pink flowers hung around her neck. Tucked into her auburn hair, tied back into a loose ponytail, was a purple flower. The colors tickled my mind, then I remembered Mary walking down the aisle on our wedding day clutching a bouquet of white, pink, and purple flowers.

In unison, Mary and the Hawaiian girls started dancing, swaying their hips, as their feet shuffled in the sand. The beat intensified, the roll of their hips became more sensuous, more challenging. My blood pounded hot through my veins; my cock painfully hard. Breasts bounced, jiggled, moved beautifully beneath the flowers.

A beautiful, ethereal song issued from the women's lips in the musical, Hawaiian language. Their hips swayed faster. They raised their hands over their heads, thrusting out their breasts, and clapped a counter-beat to the drums. They twirled about, grass skirts flaring, exposing more buttocks and flashes of naked pussies.

I was having trouble breathing as their graceful movements ignited an inferno in my body. Every sway of their breasts and roll of their hips seemed purposefully done to increase my ardor. I had never seen anything so purely erotic in my life.

Abruptly, the beat slowed, the roll of the dancer's hips matching the beat, sensuous, like they were atop their lover. Mary's green eyes fixed on me, a sultry smile on her lips. She swayed slowly forward, standing just feet in front of me, moving passionately. The beat picked up and she turned away from me; my eyes fixed to her plump ass beneath the grass skirt as she writhed and danced.

"You're so beautiful," I moaned as she shook her ass in my face. "My Goddess."

Her hips rolled, pivoted, moved in ways I didn't think were possible; the grass skirt rustled, parting to reveal flashes of her gorgeous, freckled rear and waxed pussy. She whirled about, her auburn hair whipping around her excited face. She stopped abruptly, planting her feet in the sand, and sensuously working her hips, thrusting that beautiful pussy into my face. I could smell her arousal, spicy and sweet, above the salt tang of the ocean. I took a deep breath, enjoying the fragrance of my wife's passion.

"That was amazing! Beautiful!" I groaned when the beat stopped and Mary posed before me, her breasts heaving with her exertion. I stood up and caught her in my arms. "Thank you, Mare," I whispered in her ear, my lust pressing hard against her stomach.

She threw her arms around my neck, rubbed her cute little nose against mine, and whispered, "Next year, I expect you to top this."

"I don't think I can," I answered honestly. "You were so graceful and..." I floundered for the word, "...exotic."

She pressed her groin against me, wet and hot on my thigh, then she broke away, dancing off into the darkness. I chased after, following her sweet laughter as she led me out onto the dark beach. The black water lapped beside me, flashing silver as waves caught the moon's soft light. I caught her, pulling her to me, while the warm surf surged around our feet.

Mary's body melted against me; her hard nipples and the soft petals of her lei rubbed on my chest, while my hard dick pressed against her smooth belly. My hands roamed her back, dipping down to her grass skirt and squeezing her ass through the fibers. Her hips writhed, pressing her clit against me; hot and ready, eager to be fucked.

I pulled her down to the wet sand. Salty sea lapped gently against us as I settled down on top of her, kissing her sweet lips. Mary spread her legs, her hands reaching down to stroke my cock, and guided it to her dripping pussy. The tip of my dick nudged her labia and I pressed forward, sinking into her spongy, tight depths.

"My naughty filly!" I groaned as I sank in, staring into her emerald eyes reflecting the silver moon.

"Fuck me!" Mary groaned. "My horny stallion!"

Her legs hooked around my waist, her hips thrusting up to meet me. Our bodies moved, my cock stirring her passions, her pussy stoking mine. Warm and salty water flowed around us as we made love, adding primal energy to our lust.

"I love you, and your cock!" she moaned. "Oh, God, Mark!"

"You are so beautiful," I whispered. "My lovely filly! My Goddess!"

"Oh, fuck! Let me be on top! Let me ride my stallion!"

I rolled over, carrying Mary on top of me. She reared up, her breasts and bedraggled leis bouncing as she road me. The moon's silver light shone on the profile of her smooth skin, illuminating the curves of her hips and ass and the slopes of her perky tits. Her auburn hair was almost black on her pale skin. She rode me hard, fast; her cunt a tight, velvet sheath on my cock, building my passion and bringing my balls to a boil.

"Ride me!" I groaned. "Ride me, my naughty filly!"

"Yes, yes!" she panted. "Your cock is driving me wild, my stallion! Oh, fuck! I'm going to cum, Mark! Oh, Jesus!"

I loved to watch her cum; I could never get tired of how beautiful and passionate she looked as she writhed in rapture. Her cunt sucked at my cock, always greedy for my seed. The movement of her hips became erratic and jerky as her climax kept rolling through her. That wonderful hole of hers caressed my cock with wet silk, and my balls were ready to show her how much I loved her.

"Fuck!" I groaned. "Goddamn, I love your pussy!" My cum shot into her, my back spasming on the soft sand.

Mary leaned over me, her wet hair falling on my face. "Happy anniversary, Mark."

"Happy anniversary, my love," I whispered, pulling her down for a salty kiss as the warm surf gently rolled into us.

The first year of our life together was over, and I knew we had a lot more years in front of us.

---

The Devil's Pact Chatper 50: The Bloody Knife

mypenname3000

Fantasy, Male/Female, massage, Mind Control, Violence, Wife

Introduction:

Mark and Mary meet with Lilith on the one year anniversary of the Fall of Seattle, unaware of Lilith's plan.

On November 17th, 2014, the world seemed to belong to the Tyrants. Almost every country had capitulated to their rule, and the majority of mankind was enthralled by their words. On November 18th, Darkness and Fire fell across the Earth.

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

Monday, November 17th, 2014 – Mary Glassner – The Mansion

"Master, I've finished negotiating the details for tomorrow's meeting," Jessica reported.

Chase burped as I patted her back. I had just finished nursing my six month old daughter. She was growing so fast, looking around the table and babbling in baby talk. She was just so cute; I couldn't resist giving her forehead a kiss.

We sat at the dining room table, finishing a delicious dinner the maids had prepared. All the sluts were here for tomorrow's meeting with Lilith. Alison and Desiree had returned from Japan, where they had just finished hunting down a Warlock that could kill people by writing their names down in a notebook. And Lillian had just returned from a meeting of the United Nations, making sure the delegates understood the Theocracy's position on the issues before them. It was almost time to dissolve the organization and replace it with our own government.

"And what are they?" Mark asked Jessica.

"We'll meet at the same spot as last year," Jessica answered. "Although, it will be at noon. Lilith will be accompanied by Chantelle and Lana, and you may bring two others. Obviously Mistress is one, and I think I should be the second. I've spent the last month negotiating with Chantelle, I've come to know how she thinks."

Mark glanced at me. *I think that will work* I sent to my husband.

"Okay, the three of us," Mark nodded. "No guards?"

"We leave all guards and soldiers 300 hundred yards back," Jessica replied. "It will be the three of us meeting Lilith and her two priestesses in the middle."

"Good work," I told Jessica, reaching out and stroking her caramel hand.

She flushed, "Thank you, Mistress."

I handed Chase to a maid, and turned back to my dinner. "I hope this meeting doesn't take too long," I said. "Missy wants to have her dress fitting tomorrow afternoon."

"It seems like I just went to one of your sister's weddings," Mark sighed.

"Shannon got married in August, Mark," I said, rolling my eyes. "That was almost three months ago."

"Really?" he said, blinking in surprise. "Where does the time go."

"The Middle East," I said, suppressing a shudder. That had been a frustrating few months putting most of the Muslim world under our power.

"Right," he grimaced. "When are Missy and Damien getting married?"

"December 7th," I replied. "Don't ask why. I think she chose it at random."

"Speaking of weddings, Master," Violet said suddenly. "I'm going to pop the question to Cindy." She glanced at Mark. "That's okay, right?"

"Of course," Mark smiled. "So long as we get to bless you at the altar."

"We wouldn't have it any other way, Master," Violet giggled.

I glanced at April; she was happily chatting with Korina. It seemed the teen had finally gotten over her schoolgirl crush on Violet. I bet Hayfa had something to do with that. The two seemed close these days, and April always seemed to find some excuse to visit Willow's clinic and see the nurse at work.

Dessert was brought out, and Mark just nudged it with his fork. He was tense, nervous. The meeting tomorrow could go disastrously wrong. My own stomach was roiling now, his worry infecting me. Lilith was mercurial and unpredictable. And she's spent the last year breeding her children. Our spies in the city reported that all women were required to submit to her affections. Every day, dozens were brought to her, often by force, and impregnated by the demoness. That's why the Legion ringed the city, their ranks swollen with women who had lost husbands, sons, fathers, and brothers to the Wormwood Plague, and were itching to get revenge on Lilith.

I pushed back from the table and walked around to Mark, my hands kneading his shoulders as I bent down to whisper, "Come to bed; let me soothe your nerves."

"Sure," Mark answered. He stood up, his eyes peering down my low-cut, green dress. That brought a smile to my lips; I puffed out my chest, feeling sexy.

I hooked my arm around his. "Goodnight, my sluts," I said to them. "I want all of you well rested and ready for the backup plan." Just in case things went wrong, I wanted to be ready to trap Lucifer.

"Good night, Mistress," Xiu smiled. "We'll be ready, right sluts?"

Everyone nodded or voiced their agreement, then Mark ushered me out of the dining room. We walked through the richly appointed halls of our mansion, past some of my favorite paintings: 'Girls at the Piano', 'Two Sisters on the Terrace', and 'Abduction of Europa'. I wished I had half the talent of Pierre August Renoir. Mark loved my paintings, and always told me he loved my art the best. He even hung a few in his office; his favorite was my painting of Mount Rainier. But my husband, sadly, had no real taste in art. I only had passable talent, but it always was nice to hear him praise my works even if they were terrible.

When we reached our bedroom, I slowly unbuttoned my husband's shirt. With his shirt hanging open, I reached in and fingered the lines of his hard muscles, trailing down to his pants. I loved his muscles, they were so yummy, and my pussy was growing damp as I stroked them. I unbelted him, and pulled his pants off and his boxers, freeing his semi-hard cock rising from the tangle of dark-brown pubic hair.

"Lie down on your stomach," I ordered my husband as I unzipped my dress, and let it fall to the floor. I wore nothing underneath. My husband's eyes drank in my nudity with hungry eyes; nothing made a woman feel sexier than a man's lusty gaze.

I found the massage oil, and straddled his butt. He flinched when the cold, cinnamon-flavored oil dripped on his back. I rubbed the oil across his muscular back, then started kneading his shoulders. "You're so tense," I said, working at a knot in his neck. "It's going to be fine tomorrow."

"Will it?"

"Probably," I admitted, that sinking pit returning in my stomach as I massaged lower.

He sighed, the tension melting out of him. I leaned over and kissed his back, tasting the spicy oil, before I rubbed lower, sliding down to straddle his legs as my hands found his firm butt. He had such a fine ass, perfectly sculpted, and my fingers dug into the flesh.

I massaged his butt, squeezing the tension out of his hard muscles. I leaned down, and gave his butt-cheek a nip with my teeth, then turned around and started on his powerful thighs. Pleasure tingled through me as I worked his legs, rubbing my pussy on his ass. Mark sighed as I worked his calves. I had to lean over to reach, my clit pressing against his flesh.

"Thanks, Mare," he whispered when I finished his leg.

"Wait until I do your other side," I giggled.

"Do you really think everything's going to go smoothly tomorrow?" he asked.

"I hope it will," I answered. "Lilith has to know we could wipe her city off the map if it came down to it. And I think she's too cowardly to try and attack us herself. She likes to use her daughters, and keep herself at arms-length."

"She has daughters that can turn invisible, bending light around them or blending into their surroundings." He paused, my hands sliding down his thighs. "This could be a trap."

"You can summon your armor in a moment's notice," I pointed out. "Our soldiers won't be far away, and the ghosts can cover ground rapidly if they choose to. She'd be stupid to try and do anything. Now turn over."

Mark rolled over, his cock at full mast. I sat down on it, rubbing his cock into the wet grove of my pussy. I shifted my weight, enjoying the feel of his dick sliding through my labia and nudging my clit as I poured more massage oil on his chest. I leaned over, working on his pecs.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered, reaching out to squeeze my breast. A bead of milk leaked out, and he brought it to his mouth.

"You're not so bad looking, yourself," I smiled back.

"I think there's another part of my body that needs to be massaged."

"Oh?" I asked, feigning innocence as I slid against his shaft. "What part?"

"I think my cock needs a deep tissue massage," Mark grinned.

"An intimate, deep tissue massage?"

"As deep as possible, Mare."

I slid up just a little bit more, felt the head of his cock nudging at my pussy. "I think I can help you out with that, hun."

He groaned loudly, his eyes squeezing shut, as I slowly slid my pussy down the length of his cock. It felt so wonderful as his cock rubbed through my sheath, filling me up as I took him all the way to the root. I leaned back, squeezing his cock with my pussy and then relaxed. I didn't move my hips; I just massaged his cock with my cunt's muscles.

"Christ, that's driving me crazy!" he groaned, his hands finding my breasts.

He rolled a nipple between his fingers, the pleasure making it harder to resist moving my hips. I kept squeezing and relaxing, a bonfire blazing inside me. It grew harder and harder to stay still. That fire demanded to be put out, and burned with a frustrated agony through me.

"Fuck!" I gasped, then started bouncing rapidly on his cock, my breasts jiggling up and down. I needed to cum, I needed to soothe the fire burning inside me. "My horny stallion! Flood me with your cum! Extinguish my flames! Oh, Mark! Oh, yes! Yes, yes, yes!"

I ground my clit into his groin, and twisted my hips, letting his cock rub harder on different spots inside my pussy. I threw my head back, my auburn hair wildly flying about my head as I fucked my husband. His hands were on my ass, squeezing the plump flesh. He pulled me up and slammed me back down on his cock. Over and over, churning me up inside.

"Fuck, Mare!" he groaned! "Oh, fuck! I'm gonna cum!"

"Do it! Cum in me!" My voice sound shrill; I neared my limits.

He grunted, an animalistic growl, and then his cock flooded my pussy. My orgasm was intense. Agonizing pleasure surged through every nerve in my body, and tensed every muscle. I collapsed onto his oily chest, gasping and writhing. His strong arms wrapped around me as I continued to quake, making me feel safe and loved.

"Everything's going to be fine," he whispered, and I realized I was crying. The fear I had bottled up released with my orgasm.

I kissed my husband. Everything would be fine, and tomorrow would go off without a hitch.

Tuesday, November 18th, 2014 – Mark Glassner – I-5 at Seattle City Limits

"Do you know how to use that dagger?" I asked Jessica as she fingered the hilt of the knife strapped to her waist. She had been nervously stroking the hilt the entire limo ride to the meeting.

"Not really," Jessica admitted. "But, just in case something happens..."

"It makes you feel a little safer?" I asked her.

"Yes, Master," she smiled.

"If anything does happen, just run for the guards," Mary told her. "Don't try to fight if you can help it. Lilith's daughters, well, they are very dangerous."

"Of course, Mistress," Jessica sighed, fidgeting with nervous energy.

My own stomach was a pit of vipers, writhing and wiggling. I couldn't eat breakfast, and only had a cup of coffee, which just made my stomach feel worse. Mary leaned against me, her body trembling occasionally, even if her face seemed serene. She had grown adept at hiding her true feelings from the public over the last year, and you would have to know her intimately to see the signs of her tension. I gave her shoulders a squeeze, and kissed her forehead.

"We're here, sir," Leah reported, slowing the limo down.

"Be safe, Master," Violet said, hugging me before I got out of the limo. All the sluts were in there, plus Sam and Candy, the diamond-tipped rods ready to be used to bind Lucifer if the worst should happen.

I slid out of the limo into the weak, November sun; it barely did anything to take the bite out of the cold air. I helped my wife out of the limo, and she adjusted her body armor, stitched with protective spells. Soldiers were spilling out around us from their Strykers, setting up their defensive positions. Down the highway, I could see the mass of Lilith's daughters doing the exact same thing.

I summoned the ghosts; it had been a while since I had needed them. The Patriots were wiped out, and Lilith had been quiet, so I hadn't needed them since last May on the airplane. Twenty-two figures formed out of the mists, beautiful women in shining, silver armor and holding silvered weapons.

I blinked; twenty-two. I recounted. No-one had died in the last six months, so where did the twenty-second ghost come from. I stared at them, trying to figure out whom the new spirit was. Then I saw a ghost with sandy-blonde hair pinned up in a tight bun.

"Noel?" Mary gasped.

"Hi," she said, a little stiffly.

"I freed you." I felt flustered, unsorted. Seeing Noel dead and bound to me was so unexpected that I didn't know what else to say.

"I'm not bound to you," Noel answered, then glanced at Chasity. "I didn't want to be apart from my loved ones."

"What?" I asked, glancing at Mary. "You seemed pretty set against us."

"Not you," Noel answered frostily.

"It's Chasity," Mary explained, rolling her eyes. "Didn't you see them together those last few days before, um, the attack."

"Really?"

"God, you're blind," my wife said with a fond smile. "How did you die, Noel?"

"I made a mistake," she answered; a look of self-hatred flashed across her face. "More than one, actually."

"Well...I..." My voice trailed off. What did you say to the dead? I cleared my throat. "Be ready. If anything goes wrong, I want you racing across the bridge."

"You can count on us, Master," Chasity assured.

"It's time, Master," Jessica said, her hand gripping the dagger hilt.

Mary gripped her shoulder. "It'll be okay."

She released the dagger, blushing slightly. "Of course, Mistress. Shall we."

Mary took my arm, her other hand resting on the bronze dagger. Just in case. We walked in silence down the concrete roadway, Jessica trailing behind us. Tufts of grass grew from cracks in the concrete; no-one had used this stretch of I-5 in a year, and it was starting to show some deterioration. Bands of dirt were caked on the road in undulating ripples; erosion washed down the highway by the heavy rains.

Down the highway, Lilith strode forward, trailed by Lana and Chantelle. Both women had daggers tucked into their belts, and dressed in utilitarian clothes: loose fitting pants for mobility, long-sleeved shirts, and bulletproof vests no doubt looted from Seattle P.D.

We stopped ten feet from the demoness. Lilith looked like a pin-up model, with her huge breasts and voluminous, silver hair that looked tousled, like she had just been fucked. She wore a sheer, red dress, translucent enough to see her flesh where it pressed against the fabric. A smile glinted on her lips, dangerous, victorious; my stomach sank.

I pushed Mary behind me, my eyes scanning for the trap.

"I've waited so long for this day," Lilith purred, violet eyes shining in triumph.

My heart was pounding; this was very wrong. My eyes flickered about. Where was the trap? Was it a haja cloaking itself about to fire a beam—

"No, Mark!" Mary shouted, then screamed in pain.

I whirled about. My heart stopped. Mary was falling to the ground, her shoulder bloody; Jessica stood over her, clutching a dagger. The black blade, crudely made, was red with my wife's blood. White-hot anger flashed through my mind, a rage that wiped all thoughts. Jessica roared inhumanly as her dagger thrust at me.

I summoned my sword, and swung at my treacherous slut. The Celestial Gold blade glinted in the sunlight, arching right for Jessica's neck. I didn't care that it wouldn't hurt her—she was human, and the blade only hurt the supernatural—she attacked my wife, and the traitorous bitch was going to pay!

The golden blade cut through Jessica from shoulder to hip. She fell apart and changed. Her caramel skin rippled, turning a pasty white; her body shrank, becoming emaciated; her lustrous, honey-brown hair bleached pale. She was one of Lilith's daughters! One of Lilith's daughters stabbed my wife!

"Lilith!" I roared, rounding on the fucking demoness.

"I..." The fucking bitch blanched in fear, and took a step back. She looked wildly around, then glanced at Lana and Chantelle "Defend me!"

"For my Goddess!" blonde Lana yelled, drawing a bronze dagger and charging me as Lilith fled past her.

I slammed my sword into Lana's face. The blade didn't bite, she was human, but the force of the blow broke her nose, and slammed her body into the concrete. She groaned, her eyes rolling back into her head as she lay in a daze. Chantelle danced towards me, stabbing with her dagger. I swung, and she nimbly dodged. She moved with grace as she spun away from my every thrust and swing.

I growled in rage; every second I wasted on her, Lilith was getting closer to her army. I left myself open; Chantelle took the bait. Her arm shot forward, dagger gleaming. I caught her wrist, broke it, and slammed the hilt of my sword into her face. She fell senseless beside her wife.

Lilith was halfway back to her army, struggling to run in her dress and heels. I could overtake her. I was as fast as any Olympic sprinter. She would be dead before she reached her monsters. A warning voice whispered in my mind. What about the world? What about Lucifer?

I hesitated.

"Mark," Mary gasped weakly.

I turned to my wife. She was still on the ground. The cut didn't seem that bad, so why was she still down? I glanced at that blade; it looked evil. I knelt down and grasped my wife's hand, thinking she must be poisoned. I concentrated on her being healed. "Tsariy!" I cried out, and the scarlet light engulfed her.

"It hurts, Mark," she cried out.

The wound on her shoulder was still there, the shock punching me in the gut. The spell had failed to heal her? Why? How?

"Oh, God, Mark!"

I must have done the spell wrong. I can heal her. I can save my wife. "Tsariy!" Her blood flowed dark from the wound; my tears were hot on my cheek. "Why didn't it work?" I shouted into the air. I kissed her hand. "Hang in there, Mare!"

Around me, the ghosts surged by, meeting Lilith's daughters with swords and guns. I was vaguely aware of the Legion opening fire down the highway. I didn't care. My wife was dying, and I couldn't help her. I tried a third time, and a fourth time, to heal her. She can't die! She can't die! Please, please, please! I tried a fifth time; she grew weaker, her eyes closing; her breath shallowed.

"Don't die, Mare! Stay with me!"

"What's wrong?"

I looked up, hope surging through me. Sam was here; she'd know what to do. "The dagger," I cried, struggling to speak coherently. "She's dying! Save her, Sam!"

The Asian woman bent down, looking at the dagger. "There's a maker mark on the tang. It looks like the Mark of Qayin. See the circle and the diagonal slash across it." She held up the hilt, gingerly, pointing at where the blade met hilt. "It is one of the three Mispachs. She'll be dead in minutes. I'm sorry." There were tears beading in her eyes.

"There has to be a cure!" She couldn't die. Not my Mary. She was my world. Nothing would matter without her. "Please, Sam!" I hugged my wife's dying body to my chest, felt her weak breath on my cheek. "I can't lose her!"

"You have to find the person whom the dagger's bound to, and spill their lifeblood on Mary," Sam replied. "It wasn't this...thing." She motioned to the creature that posed as Jessica. "I can see her blood has splashed on Mary."

"Lilith?"

"Probably," Sam answered.

I had missed the chance to catch her, now I would never cut through all of her daughters in time. I could feel the bit of Mary tied to my soul fading away. Her flame was guttering out; I was going to lose my wife. Her breathing slowed; her heart flagged.

She was going to die.

"Please!" I shouted at her. "Don't go, Mare!"

Only a tiny tongue of flame still burned in her, consuming the last of her life's wick. She was going to burn out—unless I could fuel her flame. I reached into my soul, and touched that part of me that was tied to Mary's, the deep connection between us. Spells, wishes, and love bound us. We shared Molech's power. We shared our dreams.

We could share our life-force.

I forced my life through our bond; the flame burned brighter, consuming my wick.

I groaned, my head swimming. Mary was quickly burning through my life-force. Her heart beat faster, and her breathing grew a little stronger. I had bought her a little time, but not much. Maybe ten minutes before my life ran out and we both died. Exhaustion swept through me as she consumed my life's candlewick. I felt like I had run all day; I didn't have the strength to kill Lilith and fuel my wife's life. So I tapped all those other chains inside me: the sluts, Mary's family, the maids, the hundreds of bodyguards. Their energy flowed into me, and my energy flowed into Mary.

"Mark," Mary whispered, her eyes fluttering open. A tremulous smile spread on her lips "I was falling into darkness. And then your hand reached out, and pulled me back into the light."

"Shh, It'll be okay," I told her. "I have to do something."

"Okay," she whispered, her eyes closing. "I'm so tired. I'll just rest here."

"I love you, Mare."

She smiled, then slipped into unconsciousness again.

"What did you do?" Sam asked. "I felt something. You're drawing on all of our life-forces?"

"We'll keep her alive until all our lives are exhausted," I told her. I spotted a Legion radio operator. "You, radio General Brooks. Send in the troops! Butcher Lilith's daughters!"

I stood up. Lilith was going to die. I didn't care that I would free Lucifer and damn the world to darkness and pain. My love was dying, and I could not give one shit about what it would cost to save her life. "Get ready with the backup plan," I told Sam. She paled and nodded. "I'll be back with Lilith."

I drew my bronze dagger, and began to carve my portal. Lilith was a coward. She'd flee back to her lair—Seattle's City Hall.

Fiona Cavanagh – Seattle City Hall

The air boomed with explosions. I watched the horizon as black smoke billowed in every direction. Jets screamed overhead, dropping bombs on the masses of Lilith's daughters forming up down the street from City Hall. Something had gone wrong at the meeting; Mark was invading. Fear clenched at my stomach, and I glanced at Thamina, at her stomach. She was two months pregnant with our child, and the world was falling apart around us.

I had to get us out of here.

Lilith's limo screeched to a halt; our Goddess strode out, breathless. She was drenched in sweat and flustered, like she had ran a marathon. Her violet eyes were wild as she strode up the steps of City Hall, and her silver hair was frazzled. She didn't look like a Goddess at all, but a frightened woman.

Why did I ever follow this pathetic creature?

"Your damned daughter failed, Fiona!" she snarled at me. "All she had to do was stab Mark, and the stupid cunt couldn't even do that!"

"What?" I asked in confusion. Ziki was masquerading as Jessica, spying on Mark. Why did she try to stab Mark? "Is she okay?"

Lilith waved her hand dismissively. "She was always on a suicide mission." My blood went cold. Lilith sent my daughter to her death! I clenched my fist, trying to control the anger inside me. "Thamina, tell your daughter to unleash the Wormwood! I promised Mark what would happen if he attacked me. Let every filthy man on this planet die."

"Yes, Lilith," Thamina said, almost choking on her words.

"I'll be in the bunker," the phony goddess snapped, scurrying inside the building. She flinched as another explosion rocked the building, fear trembling in her eyes.

My daughter is dead. Lilith sent her to her death. My daughter is dead.

"I'm sorry," Thamina whispered, then caught me as my knees buckled beneath me. "We need to stay strong. This is our chance."

"Our chance?" I mumbled. My daughter is dead.

"Lilith is done," Thamina continued. "We have to act now, Fiona. For us. For our unborn daughter. We have to stop Tir and Vera." A steely resolve crossed Thamina's face. "We have to kill them. They'll unleash Wormwood no matter what we do. They're devoted to Lilith."

I glanced at Thamina. "Tir's your daughter." My daughter is dead. Anger burned inside me. Lilith sent my daughter to her death!

"I know." Her steely resolve wavered, tears brimming in her eyes. "I know her. She loves Lilith and will carry out her final orders no matter what. We need to do the right thing. For our daughter."

I pushed my grief down, and placed a hand on her belly. "For our daughter." I took a deep breath. "I'll take care of Tir."

"No, she's my daughter."

"You sure?"

"No." Her voice was hard as steel, hard as diamond. "But it has to be done."

Vera and Tir were waiting in Thamina's office for us to open the portals so they could escape Seattle and spread the plague if Lilith died. I drew my dagger; Thamina drew hers. I walked over to Vera, a sickly-looking creature, her skin as thin as paper.

"My daughter," Thamina said, and threw her arms around Tir's neck, hugging the lithe woman to her, and stroked her tawny hair entwined with black feathers. "I love you so very much."

"I love you, too, mother," Tir replied, hugging Thamina back.

My bronze dagger, enchanted to harm spiritual flesh, took Vera in the heart; surprise froze on her face as her blood oozed over my hand, black as death. With a gurgling sigh, she slid backwards, and flopped onto the ground.

"Mother?" Tir asked plaintively, sounding like a little girl. I turned to see Thamina helping Tir slump to the ground, her dagger stuck in her daughter's back. "Why, mother?"

"I couldn't let you kill any more people," Thamina cried. "I'm so sorry. I love you, Tir."

Tir's sapphire eyes widened, and her body stiffened. She opened her mouth to speak, but only thick blood came out. She twitched once, then went still. Thamina collapsed on her daughter's body, shaking as she sobbed her grief into her murdered daughter's flesh. "I'm so sorry, Tir! What did I do? I'm so sorry!"

I knelt beside my wife, hugged her body, and grieved for both our daughters.

Mark Glassner – Seattle City Hall

I was death as I strode through the building with Chasity at my side. Every daughter of Lilith fell before my blade or the weapons of my ghosts. Even now, the spirits were sweeping through the building, trying to find Lilith and killing any monsters they found. My blade rose and fell, hacking through monstrous flesh; gore splattered my golden armor.

"Lilith!" I roared, and kicked in the next door.

Fiona looked up at me, her face stained with tears. Two monsters lay dead in the room, bronze daggers buried in their flesh. Next to Fiona, Thamina sobbed onto the chest of a tawny-haired monster, while Fiona comforted her. Sam had drilled the various aspects of Lilith's daughters into my head; one of the corpses was a dever, and the other was a tir, both plague-causing monsters.

"She's not here," Fiona hissed. "You can find her in the bunker!"

"What trick is this?" I demanded.

"That bitch needs to pay! She killed my daughter!" Fiona snarled at me. "The bunker's in the basement." She pulled an amulet from around her neck and tossed it to me. "You'll need that to enter. And Mark..."

"Yes?" I asked, barely keeping my rage in check. I wanted to squeeze Lilith's throat with my bare hands. No, I needed to. My hands itched to feel her fear pulsing through her throat.

"Make the bitch suffer!"

"She will," I promised, clutching the amulet in my hand.

"Mark," a pitiful voice croaked. Thamina's voice. "You don't need to worry about Lilith unleashing the plague. W-we killed..." Her voice trailed off as a fresh bout of tears overwhelmed her. I glanced at the two corpses, and nodded in understanding.

"The basement!" I barked at Chasity. "Recall the ghosts!"

"Yes, sir!" she snapped.

As we marched through the building, more and more ghosts streamed silver through the walls, following us, their faces grim. There were eleven by the time we descended the stairs; the other ten unsummoned by wounds from Lilith's daughters.

"For Mother!" roared a leonine woman, leaping out of an alcove as we reached the basement. She spat a spine that struck 32 in the eye; the Korean ghost melted into mist.

The leonine monster barreled straight at me. I didn't have fucking time for this! My sword flickered; her head went sailing, rolling to rest before an iron-black door carved with symbols. I strode to the door, kicking the head savagely down the hall, and held up the bronze amulet Fiona gave me. It was triangular, carved with a single character, and matched a recessed hole in the door. I shoved it into the slot, and there was a groaning shudder as the iron door swung slowly outward.

"Mark," Lilith purred as I strode in. She was naked, her lush body invitingly on display as she stretched out on a table. Her Lust washed uselessly over me; I was armored by the Gift. "Your wife was a beautiful woman, for a mortal, but think of the delights you could have with me as your consort. I know you grieve for her, but that will pass in time. And together, think of all we can accomplish!"

I strode forward, letting my sword vanish into golden motes and my armor dissolve. She writhed; a serpent waiting for its prey, triumph shining in her eyes. "Yes, come to me. Together, Mark, together we can—"

My fist gripped her throat, silencing the bitch; I slammed her back, delighting in her head snapping against the table. "Mary still lives," I smiled. "For now." I let my words sink into her, watched the fear blossom in her eyes. She clawed at my hand; I ignored the burning pain of her raking nails, and savored her terror. "Get me something to bind the bitch."

"Over here, Master," a weak voice said.

I glanced; I almost let go of Lilith in shock. A pale, emaciated Jessica was manacled to the wall in the corner of the bunker. I could see her ribs, and her skin hung in loose folds around her stomach. The ghosts flowed around her, freeing her from the chains, and helped Jessica to her feet. She tottered over to me, a look of disbelieving hope on her face.

"You came for me, Master," she sobbed.

"I didn't know you were missing," I answered, my hand tightening about Lilith's throat. "But you're safe now." I left Lilith to the ghosts, and the demoness howled as Karen took out her revenge. I hugged Jessica's bony body.

"Master," she sobbed. "I dreamed of this so many times. Please let this be real!"

"It is," I whispered, stroking her skin. "Tsariy!"

Red light engulfed the bony woman as I healed her. Her flesh filled out, the muscles growing beneath my hands, and the trembling withdrew as her strength returned. The light faded. She was still dirty, but no longer looked half-starved. She smiled at me, and kissed me with passion and writhed her warm, lithe form against me. My body responded for a moment, but I could still feel Mary burning through our life-forces.

"Later," I whispered to her. "Mary's dying. That has to wait."

Jessica's dark eyes widened in fear. "Of course, Master."

I carved the Portal, then threw Lilith over my shoulder, and strode into the Shadows. The demoness struggling in vain against her bonds. She had been cruelly bound by Karen, who seemed to delight in hurting the demoness. And Lilith so deserved to suffer. If Mary's life was bleeding away, I would have the demoness experience all the torments I could inflict upon her.

"I can give you pleasures no mortal man has experienced," she begged.

"I have all the pleasures I need."

I led us through the Shadows to Bradley Park in South Hill. Months ago, we chose this as the spot to execute Lilith. It was a wide, open field of grass surrounded by trees and a small lake. There were no civilians living nearby anymore. The entirety of the bodyguards had formed a perimeter around the field, hunkered down and ready for anything.

Mary lay unconscious in the center of the field. The golden rod—necessary to bind the Devil—lay next to her, ready for her to wield it. Around the field, five women—Sam, Candy, Alison, Desiree, and Xiu, Jessica's replacement—stood around Mary, forming a large pentagram. Each held a brass rod, ready to help my wife focus the binding spell when she recovered.

"Get to safety, Jessica," I ordered. "Chasity, you and your spirits will surround us."

Chasity nodded as Jessica ran towards the perimeter where the other sluts waited. Anger burned in me. Jessica had been in that room for a year, never allowed to get up, to even be free of her manacles. I dragged Lilith by the hair towards Mary, savoring her screams as she wiggled in her tight bonds, and waited for Jessica to clear the field; I owed my slut that much for all she suffered for me the last year.

Once she reached safety, I yanked Lilith up by her silver hair so she knelt above Mary. Chasity and Noel grabbed her, holding her struggling form as I raised up my sword. I focused on the back of the demoness's neck.

"Please, Mark," she begged. "Your queen! Think of all we can do together. Think of the power we'll have!"

"For Mary," I whispered, and condemned the world to darkness.

Power surged into me, an overwhelming, lustful energy as Lilith's blood spilled red upon my wife's body. Mary gasped, her eyes shooting open. Then she shuddered, moaning with lust as Lilith's power flowed from my soul into hers. I groaned, my knees buckling, as the incredible lust burned inside me. Desire burned in my beating heart, then pumped through my arteries, spreading the passion to every inch of my body. I fell to my knees beside my wife, struggling to contain this newfound ardor—the succubus's lust.

"Mark!" she gasped, her hands reaching mine. Blood stained her body. "What did you do?"

"I saved you."

The earth groaned, a deep, violent moan rising up from the depths. Then the world shook. I grabbed my wife's hands, and held onto her as the ground rolled, rippled, cracked. Trees creaked and snapped, and streetlamps crashed to the ground. I pulled her to me, and we clutched each other as we were tossed about. The sound of a thousand, a million, a billion souls crying out in agony filled the air as the veil between worlds was torn asunder.

The screams grew louder. The earth shook harder. I could feel the ground rippling like waves beneath us, leaving gaps and tears in the grassy field. I thought I was going to die; Mary clutched me with a death's grip. I had killed us all. The world was going to tear itself to pieces. All I could do was hold onto my wife and hope.

I couldn't think; the screams of the damned overwhelming my ears, driving into my brain like hot needles. I squeezed Mary tighter. I killed us all for love. I roared wordlessly, adding one more, terrified voice to the symphony of agony resounding through the fabric of reality. Mary trembled; her fear yelling in my ear; her arms wrapped like steel chains about my chest.

The quaking lessened. Darkness fell upon us.

I looked up; the sun was slowly being swallowed by darkness, working its way in from the outside edge. This wasn't an eclipse; no moon or other celestial body was slowly passing in front of the sun and blocking its light from the earth. A black stain spilled across its surface, spreading insidiously, the yellow orb shrinking, shrinking, until only a pinpoint of light remained.

And then it was gone.

Everything became silent; the earth stopped rumbling, and the screams of the damned were snuffed out. I stood up, gripping my sword. A few streetlamps had survived the earthquake, flickering to life, mere pools amidst the ink of night. Mary stood up beside me, the golden rod gripped in her hands; disbelief painted on her face.

"You should have let me die," she whispered in horror. "The world, Mark!"

"I couldn't," I told her, staring into her green eyes. I reached out and squeezed her hand; she squeezed me back. "I'm sorry, Mare. I just couldn't let you die."

"Of course you couldn't, Mark," a voice boomed from everywhere and from nowhere. "You love her. It's absolutely amazing what a human in love will do. They are capable of doing absolutely any monstrous thing!"

A light bloomed next to us, burning my eyes. The light was so bright it hurt even through my closed eyelids, through my hands covering my face. A new sun was born to replace the one swallowed up by darkness.

Lucifer, the Shining One, the Son of the Morning, was free.

The light dimmed; I opened my eyes. He stood a few feet away, still shining bright, but no longer blinding. I gripped my sword, stepping before my wife, and I faced the Devil. Mary and the other five women began their binding spell. I had condemned the world to darkness, and now I had the chance to save it. I pushed down my fear. I just had to keep him distracted for a minute. Then he'd be bound forever.

Just one minute for Mary and the rest to recite the spell seven times, and then he'd be trapped in the diamond for eternity.

His light was bright, almost pure white, but scintillated with colors around the edges. I could vaguely make out the figure of a man in the center of the nimbus. Everything about him glowed, except his eyes: two black pits focused on my sword. His face shone too radiant to see his expression, but I could feel his smug smile nonetheless.

"Do you think you can trap me, Mark?" he asked with amusement, black pits focusing on Mary as she chanted. "I have known all of your plans from the beginning. This ritual will fail."

"Then why did you come before us? You stepped right into our trap. Can you feel it? The walls of your cage are around you, and the door is about to be slammed shut." The ritual was almost finished. "You'll be trapped forever, Lucifer."

Lucifer laughed, his voice booming across the field. "Unless the trap is mine, worm. I led the hosts of heaven once, and you think to outwit me? I shaped your entire life. I nudged the people around you, whispered into your dreams, and led you like a bull by the nose ring into summoning me. I changed the destiny of countless people to guide you to this exact moment.

"I released Lilith, and played the stupid whore like a lyre. I tricked even the mighty Archangel Gabriel. He destroyed the last of his nuns, and catapulted you into godhood with that attack. And you think you can trick me? Deceive me? Do you think you had any more chance of succeeding than a little worm crawling on his belly in the dirt thinking he's better than the filth he wallows in?

"I predicted you would build the Matmown, so I wormed my spy into your confidence. You loved her, fucked her, and made her your whore, never knowing the serpent nestling in her breast. I know all of your secrets. I know exactly the spell you think to trap me with. And it will not work!"

None of my sluts could be spies. They loved me and were bound with the Zimmah spell. This was all some desperate attempt to stop the inevitable. "You need better lies, Lucifer," I laughed. He wasted all of his time; Mary was on the last phrase. "You made the classic villain mistake; you shouldn't have monologued. It's too late to stop the spell now."

Lucifer glowed more brightly, shining with triumph. The idiot.

Mary spoke the last word; the diamond tipping her golden rod flared to life for a moment, then exploded into dust. I looked over my shoulder; my wife stared in disbelief at the diamond. What went wrong? Did one of the women mispronounce? But they had practiced for months. All of them could say the phrase flawlessly. Unless one of them really was a spy. No, that couldn't be. My sluts all loved—

"The fool trusted me, my bridegroom," Alison breathed, throwing her rod to the ground. "Just like you said he would. I have completed my final task and await my reward."

Shock passed through me like a physical weight, and I staggered back. That couldn't be possible. Not my Alison!

"And you shall be rewarded, my bride," Lucifer promised.

To be continued...

---

The Devil's Pact Chapter 51: The Morning Star

mypenname3000

Fantasm, Violence

Introduction:

Lilith is dead; Lucifer has been freed.

And I beheld when he had opened the sixth seal, and, lo, there was a great earthquake; and the sun became black as sackcloth of hair, and the moon became as blood.

–Revelations 6:12-13

Tuesday, August 24th, 1995 – Lucifer – The Abyss

I stared at Mark Glassner's string, following his unremarkable life into the future. He was the one. I could feel it. He was lonely, desperate, and just selfish enough to be my pawn. If I made a little nudge here on May 30th, 2013, whispering into his dream, it would send his path to the library, and there he would find a book that contained one of my many summoning spells.

I watched my projection of the future change. Mark's string turned red; he would make his Pact a week after obsessing over the book. Strings rapidly started to rearrange after that date. I examined the probable changes. He meets his soulmate three weeks earlier, and, to my surprise, she makes her own Pact. How very interesting. Then a priestess's string touches Mark and his soulmate, exorcising them. Vexing. Gabriel's priestesses were ever a thorn in my side. But they were losing the war; decade after decade more and more died without passing on their Gift. I pondered how I could influence the world to protect Mark from Sister Louise.

It came to me in a flash of brilliance: Lilith was the solution. I needed her freed—she was the final key to the prison, and Mark needed protection.

I made a few more adjustments, adding Lilith to the my prediction, and examined the result. It looked very promising. I worked for days, weeks, or just minutes—time had no meaning in the Abyss—playing with probabilities until I had the future I needed. Mark would become the Antichrist, leading the world astray, and Lilith would be freed to be killed by Mark. The prison would be open.

I would be free.

Only one thing troubled me. Mary's string will one day intersect with the Mother Superior in Rennes-le-Château, France. Troubling. The Motherhouse possessed a Matmown. I could not predict how Mary would react, or what knowledge she might learn, from that moment on. It made everything that came after uncertain. And if Mark learned how to construct his own Matmown, then things would only grow more uncertain.

I would need a spy.

The strings showed Mark would gather an increasingly large harem of women, all bound to him by the Zimmah ritual. It would be very tricky to insert a spy into his ranks; I would have to armor her against his powers. I would need a child. Someone that can be molded by the right soul, and guided right into his path. I searched and searched, but none of the women that intersected Mark's life worked. Possession was always difficult to achieve under the best of circumstances. I kept moving farther back, patiently exploring scenario after scenario.

After a century or an hour of searching, I found her. An unborn fetus growing like a parasite in Serena Hertz's womb. The mother was dying, and neither she nor the child would survive. I entered her dream, and nudged her. I knew just the summoning for her to use. I waited for her to wake, for the seed I planted in her mind to sprout and bear me fruit.

"Please," I heard her pray across the Veil. "I am desperate. Send to me an Angel of Light."

The Veil parted, and I manifested in my true form before the sickly woman, blazing like a glorious star—the most beautiful and majestic being in all creation. Far more worthy of ruling the Earth than the disgusting sacks of flesh that crawled about on it like lice in the mange of a dog.

Friday, October 13th, 1995 – Jezebel – The Abyss

The dogs tore at my body.

The mangy hounds always feasted upon me. My flesh eternally regenerated; my punishment for worshiping Asherah and seducing an entire kingdom into apostasy. Thousands of years of unceasing torment while my Goddess watched over me with delight. My punishment was simple—I experienced my death played out over and over—the fall from the window and the pack of dogs that tore at my flesh. Sometimes she would take the dogs away, let me think my torment was over, bathe my wounds, and bring me to dine at her table—and then I would hear their awful baying.

Until the day Lucifer came for me, driving the dogs away with his flail of light; his hand was soft as silk as he caressed my face. His face had been handsome, trusting—there was love in his eyes. I had almost forgotten about such gentle emotions.

"You belong to me, Jezebel" he had whispered. "You'll never be tormented again."

I shouldn't have believed him, not with all the tricks my Goddess had played on me over the eons—but I wanted to. I let hope blossom in me as he helped me to my feet. Around us, the dogs circled warily, staying just out of the nimbus of Lucifer's light.

"Why?" I finally asked, his light washing away the pain.

"Because I love you." My heart beat faster. I kept trying to remind myself that he was a demon, not to be trusted. But my heart had ever lusted after power, and no being was more powerful in the Abyss than the Morning Star. "I have a task for you. If you succeed, you shall be my queen, and rule not only the Abyss, but all of Creation at my side."

"What task?" I asked.

"Watch, guide, wait," he said, touching my forehead.

And then I was born, a shadow hidden in the mind of an infant—Alison. Lucifer had made a deal with the mother in the guise of an angel. Her body had been dying and would not have lived long enough to give birth to her daughter, so she made a deal with Lucifer. He saved the unborn daughter's life, and the mother foolishly pledged Alison's service to Lucifer thinking he was an angel sent by the Creator. The mother died during childbirth and, thanks to her pledge, the child was open to my possession.

The early years were almost a new kind of torment. All Alison could do was cry, eat, and shit, and I was trapped in her body, helpless. But she grew, and I was able to experience this new, modern world from the curious eyes of a child; forever trapped in a corner of her mind, a prisoner that could only watch and guide and wait. For now.

As she grew older, I would amuse myself with whispered suggestions to Alison. "Why don't you steal Lisa's cookie, no-one is watching." Then I would delight as she pouted in the corner when she was caught. I became her own personal devil, whispering in her ear just like the ones in the cartoons Alison loved to watch. Only there wasn't an angel whispering advice to counter mine.

As she aged, I found new experiences to guide her towards. Her body began to change, breasts budding, hips widening, and new desires awakening between her legs. I guided her choice of clothing, steering her towards more and more revealing outfits; I suggested how to wear her make-up, to appear older and wanton. I pointed out the older boys, and put depraved fantasies in her head about what she could do with them.

She was sixteen when she lost her virginity in the back of High School Senior's car. My whispers had made her so horny she was begging to be fucked, and she came as his cock shoved roughly into her cunt and pierced her maidenhead. The Senior told all his friends about the Freshman slut that put out on the first date, and she was passed around amongst them—used and discarded.

"That's what men want you for," I whispered to her as she cried into her bed when she learned the Senior boy didn't love her. "You're a slut! A wanton, dirty girl that needs a hard cock in her. Embrace it; you'll be happier."

Alison threw herself into her new lifestyle like a fisherman casting his net into the sea, sweeping up new experiences. She immersed herself in all the filth she could. I laughed as she had 'Cum on in' tattooed above her cunt, then let the tattoo artist cum in her a lot. To get her nipples pierced, she sucked her first pussy, and found out just how much she loved the taste. She'd fuck anyone. She was a slut; ready to be dominated by the first man with balls that came along.

Just like Lucifer wanted.

"You ever wanted to be a sex slave?" Mark Glassner had asked Alison as he fucked the Hot Topic salesgirl, his cock dirty from fucking Alison's ass.

This was Alison's dream come true. She had cum so hard when he had fucked her ass, and I had conditioned the girl to crave more depravity. "Oh, yes," she had panted. "I love it when a guy takes charge."

All my whispers, all the tedium I had endured, had finally paid off; I maneuvered the little slut right into the clutches of Mark Glassner. And now it was time to watch, to report on Mark to Lucifer in Alison's dreams. All of Mark's secrets, all of their plotting in the Matmown, revealed to my bridegroom.

And after nineteen years stuck in this insipid girl's mind, it was time to act. Unlike Alison, I had been insulated from Mark's control, wrapped in the protection of the stupid cunt's soul, a hidden dagger ready to strike at my bridegroom's command.

I stepped forward, shoving Alison back into the shadows of her own mind, making her as helpless as I had been. The ritual Alison had been chanting was disrupted; the spell backfired. The diamond on Mary's rod exploded into dust, and my bridegroom stood triumphant before Mark, glowing with the light of the sun.

"The fools trusted me, my bridegroom," I breathed, throwing the brass rod to the ground. "Just like you said he would. I have completed my final task and await my reward."

The look of shock of Mark Glassner's face was worth all the hard work and suffering. All of his careful plans were ruined by me. Lucifer had won, and I would rule the world at his side. Power would be mine again! And this time no righteous prophet would cause my downfall!

"And you shall be rewarded, my bride," Lucifer promised.

Tuesday, November 18th, 2014 – Alison de la Fuentes – Bradley Park

Lucifer stood before Master, just moments away from being trapped. I began reciting the Hebrew spell for the seventh and final time, the words flowing easily after months of practice. "Aney laged helel ben shakar 'em penyenh zeh. Kevhev—"

Something seized control of my body, throwing me back into my own mind. The diamond on Mary's rod exploded. What was going on? My body moved without my control, and terrible words issued from my mouth: "The fools trusted me, my bridegroom. Just like you said he would. I have completed my final task and await my reward."

This can't be happening! I would never betray Master! What was going on? What sort of nightmare was this? I needed to speak the words of the ritual, I needed to help Mistress trap Lucifer! They were counting on me!

I tried to move my lips, but I was rebuffed by the soul controlling me. *No!* I screamed in the silence of my mind. This was my body! I again tried to seize control. Whatever foul thing that possessed me struck my soul. I reeled back, deeper into the shadows of my mind. *No, no, no!*

*Yes, yes, yes, Alison! It is my turn, you stupid slut!* the soul that possessed me hissed. Shock passed through me; I recognized that voice. It was my subconscious; the whispered advice that had guided my entire life. *This is my body now. You'll get to spend the rest of eternity shrieking in the corner of your own mind, helpless to do anything.*

*Who are you?* I demanded of the voice.

*Jezebel. Queen of Israel and bride of Lucifer.*

Light flashed as Master and Lucifer fought. The Devil flailed at Mark with straps of light, smashing into my Master's golden armor, and sending him reeling in a burst of rainbow colors. "You cannot defeat me, Mark!" Lucifer boasted. "I led the Hosts of Heaven against Michael himself, and dueled the greatest fighter in Creation. And you think I will be bested by a puny, disgusting insect like you?"

Master parried the flail, and was driven back by the ferocity of Lucifer's attack. Fire ignited about Mistress's body, then flowed down her form to her outstretched hand creating a ball of red and orange, the air dancing with its heat. The ball hurtled towards Lucifer's back. The Devil spun his flail, knocking the ball to the side. It sailed through the air and struck a tree, igniting it like it had been soaked in gasoline.

Master swung at Lucifer's side, and the Devil let out a blinding flash of light that drove Master back. The soul that controlled me fixated on Mistress. *You get to watch as I murder your precious Mistress* taunted Jezebel.

*Don't you dare harm my Mistress!*

*Stop me, little slut.*

Jezebel made my arm reach down, and draw my bronze dagger. I fought with her, trying to claw at her soul. She seemed to backhand me, and I reeled back deeper into my mind. My body was forced to advanced on Mistress from behind.

*No! Please stop!* I cried out.

I lunged at her twisted soul, trying to wrap my arms around her neck and throttle the bitch. Jezebel grabbed my hand, twisted, and pain exploded through my soul. Mistress was throwing another fireball at Lucifer, distracting him from pressing his attack on Master. And she was unaware that my possessed body advanced on her.

"Alison!" Desiree exclaimed. My beautiful wife stepped between us and Mistress. "What's wrong, mi Sirenita?"

"I am not Alison," Jezebel hissed with my voice. "Get out of the way, you stupid whore!"

"No!" Desiree scrabbled for the dagger in Jezebel's hand. "Are you in there, Alison?" she cried out as she wrestled with me.

Yes!* I shouted. I fought, I clawed, I bit at Jezebel's soul. *This is my body! My life!*

*Not anymore!* Jezebel gloated as she grappled with Desiree, and shoved me back deeper into my mind.

Desiree hooked her leg about mine, pivoting and slamming me hard to the earth. "Give me back my wife!" she bellowed, falling upon us. The wind was knocked out of my body; Jezebel's grasp weakened—I pounced on her.

And was rebuffed again.

Her will was too strong, her soul too ancient. How could I fight against such strength? I was only nineteen. I was powerless, weak. Jezebel's will was like steel wires warped around my limbs. I was a puppet, and she was forcing me to kill my wife.

Desiree grappled with my enslaved body, and we rolled around on the soft grass. Jezebel forced me to scratch, bite, and punch my beautiful wife. Lights flashed across the field as Master and Mistress fought the Devil. Jezebel was winning. I didn't understand; Desiree was stronger than me, a better fighter than me. Why was she losing?

Then I saw my wife's eyes. She doesn't want to hurt me—she was holding back.

Jezebel forced me to pin my wife, and stabbed the bronze dagger at Desiree's naked throat. My wife caught the knife, halting it just short of penetrating her flesh. She strained against my body, but I was on top, and Jezebel had my entire weight pressing down on the blade. I struggled harder to take control of my body, but the bitch wouldn't relent. Every second I failed to reclaim my body, the bronze blade crept closer to my wife's nut-brown throat.

Despair filled me. I just wasn't strong enough. I was going to be forced to kill my wife.

"Alison, please!" Desiree screamed. "My love, mi Sirenita, I know you're in there! Fight! I believe in you!"

Bronze pricked her neck, a drop of blood beading red.

"Fight, Alison!"

How could I fight? She was stronger than me. This was like one of those sci-fi shows where the enemy invades the hero's mind. But the hero always realized that it was their own mind, taking control of what was happening. Wait, could that work? Could I control things in here? This was my own mind, not hers.

I needed to sever her control, snap the strings that bound me. I imagined a pair of scissors. They appeared in my hand, and I squeezed at the handles, trying to cut the string. I strained against the bonds as my wife strained against the knife; both of us were failing. Jezebel was winning. The string was too strong.

Stupid! You can't cut steel with scissors. You have to melt it.

The scissors became a blow torch that sputtered to life in my hand.

Mark Glassner

Lucifer's flail of light caught me in the side, sizzling against my armor and tearing gouges in the bronze. The world spun about me before I landed in a heap on the grass. I forced myself to stand. Chasity stood over me, fending off the Devil's attack, buying me time to recover. She was the only ghost left; the others had been shredded into silver mist by that fucking weapon. The flail swung fast, and had twice my reach.

Mary threw another fireball at Lucifer; the fire deflected with a casual flick of his flail, and Mary dived to avoid a beam of light that dissolved the grass and earth at her feet into coruscating gas—an aurora flowering beautiful out of the ground. I roared, throwing myself back into the fray, turning his attention back to me, away from Mary. My wife didn't have my reflexes or my strength.

"Master!" a woman shouted.

I risked a glance, and saw 51 leading leading a squad of the bodyguards towards us, black rifles clutched in desperate hands. Shit, what were they doing! They had their orders to stay back. More bodyguards ran across the park from the other directions. All three hundred of them were charging in. They would be slaughtered.

"You can disobey my orders only to save my or Mary's life," I had commanded them.

Yellow-fire strobed from each rifle, illuminating the bodyguards firing: tall and graceful 211, dusky-skinned 24, fiery-redhead 77, feisty 44, petite 100, and more. Like a swarm of angry bees, the bronze bullets—inscribed with enchantments by Candy, allowing the bits of lead to harm supernatural beings—stung Lucifer, and light bled from him. He roared in pain; a shimmering wall sprang up before him, rippling beneath the swarm of lead. Then a beam of pure light swept across the field; both earth and women vaporized into glowing clouds. The surviving bodyguards scattered like a flock of birds before the swooping falcon as more light lanced out.

I swung at Lucifer's shining leg, ducking beneath his flail, and missed his glowing flesh by inches. Shadows shifted, his glowing weapon swinging, and I dove to the side as Lucifer raked the ground where I stood. I rolled to a crouch; Chasity leaped at Lucifer's back. She nimbly ducked his attack, but was driven back. I tried to rush in, but that fucking flail swept around, batting my sword to the side. He flicked the flail and struck my breastplate before I could bring my sword up to parry. The blow battered me to my knees. Lucifer loomed over me; I dived back, the flail snapping down and disintegrating a clod of dirt, a puff of glowing gas rising up.

I regained my feet, and faced the Devil.

"I am the Morning Star!" Lucifer bellowed. "Bow down to me, worship me, and I shall forget your transgression today, Mark. Continue in your defiance, and your torment shall be unending!"

This was not working. Another two bodyguards were felled by his beam of light as they crouched behind playground equipment, their bodies reduced to a glowing gas that wafted away in the breeze. Sweat drenched my body, my lungs burned with exertion. I couldn't keep dodging his attacks. Fear fought with adrenaline—I didn't want to die. I didn't want to see Mary die. I licked my lips; could I serve Lucifer? Could I worship him as my God?

If it meant Mary living, I could do anything.

*Mark, I have a plan!* Mary sent telepathically.

Alison de la Fuentes

The steel wire attached to my body's right arm glowed cherry red in my imagination and, with a steely twang, snapped. The dagger stopped as my arm was freed of Jezebel's control; Desiree forced the dagger away from her throat.

"Yes, fight!" Desiree encouraged. "I believe in you, mi Sirenita!"

I attacked the next cable.

*You fucking slut!* Jezebel roared at me. The blowtorch vanished from my astonished hands.

Fuck, she can control things, too. An imaginary wall appeared behind me, and manacles snaked out from the wall, snapping about my wrists. I focused all my will, and pictured myself free. The manacles wavered as we both concentrated—calm wisdom versus fiery youth.

*This is my goddamn body; get the fuck out of it!* I roared at her.

*Drive me out, little slut! *she taunted.

*I am a slut! His slut! And proud of it!*

The manacles vanished; I was free, and I fixed my gaze on her. Let's see how she likes to be bound! Adamantium manacles slammed onto her wrists and ankles. Stronger than steel, stronger than diamond. Nothing could break, melt, or destroy adamantium. It didn't matter that the substance wasn't real so long as I believed it!

*I did not endure endless torments in the Abyss to be beaten by a little trollop like you! *

Her will beat at mine, throwing every scrap of her indomitable personality against mine. The manacles wavered, turning into billowing smoke coiled about her limbs. I grit my metaphysical teeth, and bore down with all my angsty, teenage passion. *This is my body! I am Alison de la Fuentes! I am Mark and Mary's sex slave!* I advanced on her, my determination beating down her mind. *I am Their slut!*

Smoke solidified, chains rattled. Jezebel was caged.

*Save me, my love!* Jezebel howled. I imagined a bronze dagger gripped in my soul's hand. *You promised me, Lucifer!*

I stabbed Jezebel through the heart. Her soul gurgled as it started to dissolve into mist. *Didn't an eternity in Hell teach you to never trust a demon?* I gloated as she faded from my mind, exorcised from my body, and sent back to the Abyss to rot for eternity.

"Alison?" Desiree asked.

I was in control! I tossed the dagger down, and kissed my wife. The battle faded from both of us as we kissed, we cried, we held each other. "I fought for you," I murmured between sweet kisses, her beautiful face lit by pulsating lights.

"Is this really the time for that, Alison?" Xiu shouted. "Get to some cover! It's Armageddon out here!"

I looked around. Trees crackled on fire, glowing clouds drifted through the air, gunfire barked from every direction. At the center, Master and Lucifer dueled and my heart sank. Master was losing, driven to his knees, barely dodging a blow that surely would have killed him.

"I am the Morning Star!" Lucifer bellowed. "Bow down to me, worship me, and I shall forget your transgression today."

Master froze, facing Lucifer warily. Mistress strode out, fire dancing on her hand. "As if we'd ever serve such a foul, loathsome creature as you!" she shouted in defiance. "Slither back to Hell and leave the world to your betters!"

Red pulsated through Lucifer's pure, shining body like the mottling on a serpent's body. Light lanced out. Mistress tried to dodge out of the way. My heart stopped. An aurora was born as the beam dissolved her body into a glowing gas.

"Mary!" Master roared in loss, his sword falling from his grasp, transforming into golden motes. His knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground.

I was too stunned for grief. I could only watch as my Mistress wafted away in the gentle breeze. She was as beautiful in death as she had been in life.

Lucifer

Mark's cry of loss, of bitter anguish, sang in my ears, and I savored every last second of it.

Love. The mortal's great strength, and their great weakness.

He stared in horror at the billowing cloud of atoms that had once been his wife. Hope was dead in him. I strode forward; my victory complete. Across the world, my demonic captains—Asherah, Dagon, Chemosh, Astarte, Baal-zebub, Hadad, Marduk, Tammuz, Milcom, and Ashtoreth—would be bursting free of the Abyss. They would subdue these pathetic mortals, reminding them just why their ancestors had worshiped us. Feared us.

Loved us.

The fires of sacrifices would be lit— sweet and pleasing holocausts would again be made to us.

I looked down at Mark in disgust. To think the Creator had wanted me to bow down to such a weak, selfish, filthy beast as him and his ilk. He did not deserve to live! Not after he challenged me. I had promised him a long life. Well, a year-and-a-half was a lifetime for most insects. More than enough time for a disgusting worm like Mark. He could rot in the Abyss for all time with that cunt of his; after all I had another promise to uphold.

I raised up my flail.

Pain exploded in my back; a piercing agony that robbed my limbs of strength. I collapsed onto my knees, my flail slipping from my hand. Behind me stood Mary; a bronze dagger, gleaming with my blood, gripped in her hand. How? I killed the disgusting whore! I reduced her to the most elemental particles of creation! What had I missed?

Mark's sword appeared in his hands; I scrabbled for my dropped flail. The sword descended. No, I will not be defeated. I won. I am free of His prison! I grabbed my flail, and swung it with every last ounce of strength I possessed.

I am the Morning Star. I am the greatest and most beautiful being in all of creation! No-one shines brighter than me! I am not about to be defeated by this filthy insect!

Mark's sword severed my head.

I was falling, falling, falling into darkness.

I bellowed, cursing the heavens with every last scrap of my strength as I fell past the darkness and into fire. I appeared in the Abyss; upon my bronze throne in the City of Dis. Rage—burning as hot as the one that had consumed me the day Michael had defeated me and had me cast into this pit—filled me. I slammed my fist into the throne's armrest. I had been bested by a sniveling, cowardly, disgusting, filthy worm! A creature only fit to grovel in the muck before my radiance!

"My lord Lucifer," purred a shadowy lemure, peaking its cowardly face around a column made of damned souls encased in bronze, each soul frozen in agony. "There's something...different about you."

My raged filled me. I had been so close. I held out my hand, summoning my flail. My anger needed a release; my minions needed chastisement. Then I would rise back up, and tear Mark Glassner's body apart ligament by ligament.

"You seem...weaker, my Lord." Hunger burned in the lemure's shadowy eyes. It crept closer to me, like a feral dog cautiously approaching a carcass.

My flail didn't appear.

More lemures slinked out of the shadows. And not just lemures prowled towards me; the fiery souls—those damned fools that I kept forever burning as their punishment for selling their souls—stalked towards me. I tried to summon my flail again, fear pounding inside me. I looked behind me; more souls, lemures, and demons stalked, drawn by the scent of my weakness.

Cold fell upon me. I was killed by a Priest sword—my powers were gone. Every gift I had ever been granted, every ounce of energy I had ever seized from my rivals, every last iota of the strength I had possessed since Creation itself was gone, stolen by Mark Glassner. I was as weak as an insect. As weak as a human.

The demons and souls and lemures swarmed me—all those millions that I had oppressed, tormented, and punished over the eons. All the millions that I had instructed in cruelties and torments so vile that even the worst of humanity would have blanched.

And they were all so eager to show me just how much they have learned.

Mark Glassner

Mary shone with light—pure, unadulterated, beautiful.

The power from Lucifer burst through me, overflowing my soul and surging across the chains that bound me to Mary. We lit the night, driving back the darkness. There was so much power—Molech's was a mere swallow, Lilith's a small cup. What we drank from Lucifer was a river, a lake, an ocean.

Burning like a star, my wife came to me, and I embraced her, kissed her. Held her.

We beat the Devil. Lucifer. Satan.

Around us, dark figures gathered. Alison and Desiree clung to each other; whatever had possessed Alison was broken. Jessica walked between Xiu and Korina, hope shining in their eyes. Lillian's pierced face was wide with awe. Violet trembled with relief. April's glasses reflecting our power. And more gathered: 51 and her surviving bodyguards; Sam and Candy, their mouths open in disbelief; Willow and her nurses attending to the wounded.

"I can't believe that worked," Mary stated, holding me tight.

I laughed. "Really? It was your plan."

"What happened?" Alison asked, staring at us with a mix of joy and befuddlement.

We were shining as bright as the sun, but our light didn't hurt their gaze. I concentrated on this new power, on this control of light, and realized I was unconsciously protecting my loved ones. I dimmed it anyways; a moment later, Mary followed.

"We saw you die, mi Reina."

"Did you?" Mary asked with a giggle.

"An illusion," Sam realized. "The Ashan spell combined with the Nun's Cathar prayer to turn yourself invisible."

"Yeah. I still can't believe that worked," Mary answered. "He was so fixated on Mark, he didn't even hear me walk up behind him. My heart was pounding so loud in my chest, I thought for sure he could hear it."

"He was arrogant and prideful," I smiled, stroking my wife's face; pride for her burned inside me—I had married the most amazing woman. "He thought he had won. It never occurred to him that you could outsmart him. You saved us, Mare. You were wonderful!"

Mary smiled and blushed. "You weren't half-bad yourself." She kissed me, and time seemed to stop for a moment as I held my wife.

Then reality crashed back in. Gunfire erupted off in the distance. The Legion soldiers guarding the perimeter were engaging something.

"What's happening?" Mary asked.

51 pulled out her radio. "51 to HQ, what's the sitrep at Bradley Park?"

"Spectres of unknown origin have been attacking our troops since the sun vanished," a voice squawked back. "The Legion is holding. We're monitoring the local news feeds and, well, there is chaos across the world."

"The prison was opened," I realized. The price for Mary's life. Lucifer wasn't the only being to escape. He was just the most dangerous.

Mary gave me a penetrating stare. "We made our choice, Mark, now we'll have to clean up the mess."

I chose love over the world—what a selfish bastard I am. I glanced at my wife, and knew I would make the same choice again.

"Summon General Brooks," I ordered. "We have plans to make."

For seven days and seven nights, a shadow stained the Sun and blood painted the Moon. Terrors from mankind's darkest nightmares stalked the night. The Powers of Hell each set up their fiefdoms, and ruled their subjects with cruelty and malice. All of mankind cried out for deliverance, praying to their Living Gods. On that seventh day, our Merciful and Loving Gods descended upon Washington D.C., and there utterly destroyed the Power of Dagon the Foul. They held up his severed head, and drove the shadow from the Sun and the blood from the Moon. It was Their promise to all mankind—have hope, We are coming to free you.

–The Second Book of Vivian 1:23-27

To be continued...

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The Devil's Pact Chapter 52: The Tyrant's Daughter

mypenname3000

Fantasy, Incest, Male / Females, Male/Teen Female, Mind Control, Oral Sex, Spanking, Threesome, Virginity

Introduction:

Chase, the daughter of Mark and Mary, narrates her life growing up as the Tyrants' daughter.

After the death of Dagon and the end of the Great Eclipse, the followers of the demoness Lilith were rounded up. Lana and Chantelle, High Priestesses of Lilith, were vociferous in their praise of their dead goddess, and went to the gallows for their crimes, along with many of the 'Coven', the first group of women to worship Lilith. The most notable pardons went to Fiona and Thamina, who raised Lily, the daughter of Lana and Chantelle. The pair spent their lives rebuilding Seattle and aiding the victims of Lilith's tyranny. To this day, they are remembered fondly in Seattle, and a statue in their honor was raised at Pioneer Park.

–Excerpt from 'The Rise and Fall of the American Theocracy' by Tina Allard, a Holy Witness

Chasity Glassner

I was born three minutes after midnight, May 2nd, 2014 by the old calendar. My parents always said I was the most beautiful baby in the world, fitting for a newborn Goddess. I've seen the pictures; I was a squalling ball of pink, no different from any other baby. I was named after Chasity Sarah Vinter, the Holy Martyr who died protecting my mother before I was ever even conceived.

My earliest memories are of my dad, the God Mark Glassner, staring intently at a map. I was maybe three, toddling about inside an iron room, the Matmown, in the mansion's basement. I now know he was plotting the final push against the Demoness Astarte who ruled Western Europe. It has always stayed with me how focused he looked, his blue eyes hard with determination.

I didn't see much of my parents those first eleven years of my life. The Demons of Hell had been loosed when I was only six months old, and Mother and Father spent a decade prying mankind out of their clutches. By the time I was five, Dagon, Chemosh, Astarte, Baal-zebub, and Asherah were all slain by Father. When my parents were around, they loved me fiercely. Mother would scoop me up, her green eyes flashing with love, and cover me with kisses, while Father would tickle me until I laughed so hard I couldn't breath.

"Well, at least there's one woman in my life I can win a tickling contest with," he would joke as I gasped for breath, his blue eyes twinkling. Then Mother would attack him, tickling away. Mother always won. And then they would start kissing, and a maid would pick me up and take me to go play with my siblings while Mother and Father did 'adult stuff'.

Since Mother and Father were so busy, I would often spend time with the other children in the mansion: my half-brother Silas, half-sisters Delilah and Andrea, and my uncle Michael. We were all born within a month of each other; Silas was the oldest, then Andrea and Delilah, then me, and finally Uncle Michael, Mother's youngest sibling. I tried to play with them, but there was a gulf between us. I was the daughter of both Mother and Father, a Goddess, while Micheal was merely a mortal, and Silas, Andrea, and Delilah were only demigods. Michael had the maids' and bodyguards' children to play with, and Silas, Andrea, and Delilah were inseparable, always getting into trouble together.

I was so very lonely.

It was Grandfather who sensed how lonely I was. He was Mother's father, and was old. One of the oldest appearing persons in my life. The mansion was filled with mostly young, beautiful women that served my parents, their youths frozen by the Zimmah bond. There were a few men married to various maids, cooks, or bodyguards, but it was mostly women in the house.

"Here, Chase, why don't you come read with your grandpa," he said one day.

I was never lonely after that. Grandfather introduced me to the world of books. I read everyday, transported to magical worlds. Whenever I finished a book, Grandfather and I would discuss them; he would point out what the book meant, the themes, and what the author was trying to teach me.

"But it was just a story," I objected.

"All the great works will teach you something," Grandfather explained. "About life, about love, about history, or politics. Some will exhort you to be a better human, others will show you the folly of one particular idea."

"And what if they're wrong?" I asked.

"That's why you have a brain," he answered. "Consider what they say, weigh their evidence, and decide for yourself if they are right or wrong."

As I grew older, my half-siblings, my uncle, and I began our education. Grandfather taught most of the subjects, and Sam, the Vizier, taught us Hebrew and Aramaic. As we became older, entering our preteen years, other sons and daughters of Father joined us: Meredith, Lillian's shy daughter; Marcelo and Calypso, Desiree and Alison's children, born only a few weeks apart; and, when I was fourteen, little Justin, Jessica's son, started school. Only Gang, Xiu's son with Father, was too young to start his education by the time I turned eighteen.

I came to love weddings; everyone in the family, and that included the sluts, would show up. Mother and Father; my aunt Antsy and her wife Via; Aunt Missy and Aunt Shannon, and their husbands, Damien and George; Grandfather and Grandmother, who looked as young as Mother; and Nana Sandy and Nana Betty. They were the happiest times of my childhood.

The earliest one I could remember was Aunt Antsy's wedding to Via. Andrea and I were the flower girls and Silas was the ring bearer; poor Delilah spent the day crying because she didn't get to be in the wedding party. Then Jessica married Debra Darnell, a reporter whose first husband had died in the Wormwood Plague. It seemed that every year, family members were getting married: April and Hayfa, Sam and Candy, Korina and Xiu. Everyone seemed to be in a rush to get married.

Cindy, Violet's wife, explained it to me at April's wedding, "Tomorrow any one of us could die, and we all just wanted something permanent, something official in case the worst happened to our loves."

Violet smiled at her, and kissed her wife.

And some did die. Hayfa was killed in a field hospital outside Delhi in the final push to kill Marduk; April cried for her wife an entire year. When Ashtoreth, the final Demon, launched a surprise, desperate attack on the mansion just a few weeks before my eleventh birthday, April and Xiu, along with many bodyguards and maids, died. I watched Father and Mother fight for the first time while hiding beneath a hedge, killing scores of the demons that poured out of portals opened across the mansion's grounds. They were magnificent. The demons fled in terror before their powers, and Ashtoreth was forced to kneel before Father, slumped and defeated, before he beheaded her and absorbed her powers.

The Demon Wars that had consumed my early childhood ended. The world could finally rebuild beneath Father and Mother's direction. Administrative districts were set up; family and friends were appointed to rule over the fourteen districts. Mother and Father finally were home for long periods of time. It was the happiest time of my life.

When I turned twelve, Mother gave me 'the talk,' teaching me about sex. "You know how boys have a penis?" she asked me.

"And girls have a vagina," I answered, flushing at saying such a word in front of my mother.

My eyes grew wide as she explained the 'adult stuff' she and Father did. She was quite frank, and my cheeks burned as she explained different positions and techniques. It sounded very messy and icky, and I told Mother that.

Mother just laughed. "Well, you'll soon be old enough to fuck, if you want to."

I blushed, my cheeks warming. "No, thank you!"

"In a few years, I bet you change your mind," laughed Mother, hugging me. "Your Father and I want to be the first ones to be with you, sweety. When you're old enough and ready."

I felt a tingle in my body. "Really?" Father was such a hunk, and when I thought about him my pussy sometimes felt funny. Maybe it was worth all the mess.

"Yeah, you're going to make us all immortals."

"Really?" I asked, smiling.

"Yep."

I wasn't as ready to rush into sex as my siblings. When they were sixteen, Silas was found with Delilah and Andrea in bed with him. "That's my son," Father had laughed when he heard about it.

It was another year before I was ready.

On my seventeenth birthday, my parents threw an elaborate party for me. It was a lot more 'adult' than my previous parties, and none of the children had been invited. Bishop Mattock and his wife, Jessie, brought a few temple prostitutes for entertainment, and a beautiful Black woman gave me a lap dance as everyone cheered. She ground her plump tush on my crotch and rubbed her ebony breasts in my face. I felt giddy, tipsy on champagne, as this beautiful woman cavorted on me.

"Happy birthday, Chase," Father said to me after the lap dance was over, holding out his hand to me and helping me up. His cock was hard, and shiny with some woman's juices.

My entire body felt like it was on fire, starting at my little pussy. I'd never felt so horny before, and I wanted to slip away and stroke my little kitten until it purred. Mother appeared, naked and flushed, and took my other hand.

"Are you ready, Chase?" she asked me.

"Yes, Mom," I told her. I was ready to pop my cherry and become a woman.

Everyone cheered; they knew what was about to happen.

"Give her a good tumble, big bro," Aunt Antsy catcalled.

"Make her howl, Mary," Aunt Missy cooed, and pinched my ass as I walked by.

"I hope you won't forget about your Grandfather," he winked, as Grandmother fondly laughed, "Dirty, old man."

I trembled as we entered their bedroom. Candles lit the room, and incense burned lavender and sweet. Father kissed me, his blue eyes shining with lust, as Mother's hands found the zipper of my new dress, a low-cut, dark-blue party dress with a ruffled skirt. The cool silk slid down my skin, exposing my naked body to my Father's gaze. I shivered. He was so strong, so powerful, and I wanted to be taken by him.

"We made a beautiful child, Mare," Father leered; his hand reached out and gently cupped my breast. They were small, perky, and covered in freckles, just like Mother's.

"Yes, we did," Mother purred, standing next to me and sliding a hand up my waist to cup my other breast.

"You two could be sisters," Father whispered. "You look so much alike."

I flushed; Mother was the most beautiful woman, and I was happy to be compared to her. Mother kissed at my neck as Father's fingers pinched at my nipple. My eyes found his cock. It was so hard, jutting out at me. And it looked so big. How was that going to fit in me?

"It'll be okay," Mother whispered. "Relax."

She must have felt me tense. Her lips found mine, and I was kissed for the very first time by a lover. I had practiced kissing with Andrea and Delilah, but it was nothing like the passion Mother had for me. I cocked my head, trying to move my lips like she was. Mother's tongue flickered through my mouth. I moaned, and kissed her back. Her fingers stroked my skin, building my ardor to higher levels.

I was breathless when she broke the kiss, and Father was there, turning my face. I trembled, staring into his deep, blue eyes. He kissed me. It was different than Mother's, rougher, more powerful, and I melted into his strength. I could feel his hard cock rubbing on my stomach, leaving a wet streak of something on my belly. Not pee? Did he cum already? No, it's precum, remembering Mother's quite frank sex talk from a few years ago.

We fell upon the bed in a tangle of kissing bodies. Hands roamed me, groping my breasts, gently pinching my nipples, stroking my thighs. Mother toyed with my thick mat of fiery-red pubic hair, then slid down to find my wet pussy. I shuddered and came as the first person touched my sex. It was intense, glorious, so much better than using my own fingers in my bower at night.

"She's so wet," Mother purred, then licked her fingers, tasting my juices. "Umm, tart and sweet."

She held her fingers up for Father, and he savored my passion. "I have to get a better taste," he grinned.

He spread my legs and Mother stretched out beside me as Father's whiskers scratched at my thighs. "You are in for a treat, Chase," she cooed, licking my ear. "Your dad is a wonderful pussy eater. He's had a lot of practice on me."

"Can I taste you?" I asked, a little hesitant. Father's tongue toyed with my pussy lips, stirring my lust.

"I would love that, baby girl."

She straddled my face, her beautifully waxed pussy descending to my lips. Father buried his face into my hairy snatch, and I realized that I wanted to have a bald cunt just like Mother. Father's tongue felt amazing, rough and wet, as he explored my folds. I tried to copy what he was doing to me on Mother's spicy, sweet flower.

"Oh, Chase!" Mother moaned. "Umm, you're a quick study! Nuzzle my clit. Yes, just like that, baby-girl. Oh, fuck! Oh, my baby-girl!"

I almost panicked when a flood of juices poured out of Mother's cunt into my lips. Then I heard her moans and gasps, and I realized I had made her cum. I felt so happy as Mother ground her pussy into my eager mouth. Father was really eating me, his tongue fucking into my pussy hole, pressing against my hymen as his fingers skillfully manipulated my little pleasure button.

Mother slid off my face, and licked her juices off my cheek. "Are you about to cum, baby-girl? Is daddy's tongue driving you wild?"

"Yes, Mom!" I groaned. "Oh, Daddy, you're making me feel so good. I love you so much! You and Mom!"

"Aww," Mother sighed, a tear brimming in her eye. "I love you, too, baby-girl."

Father showed his love by bringing me to an earth-shattering orgasm. I bucked and moaned, Father hanging on for dear life as he ate me out. It seemed like every nerve in my body exploded with pleasure while Mother held my hand and smiled encouragingly at me. And then it passed, and I collapsed onto the bed, breathing heavily.

"Thank you, Daddy," I gasped as he crawled up the bed. He kissed me on the lips. I tasted my pussy, it tasted as sweet as Mother's, but had a tart flavor instead of a spicy one.

I could feel Father's cock prodding the entrance of my pussy. He broke the kiss, staring his blue eyes into mine, and asked, "Are you ready, Chase?"

"Yes, make me a woman, Daddy!"

Mother squeezed my hand as Father drove his cock into me; for a moment, my hymen resisted, then his cock broke through and sank into me, filling me up. "Eylowm!" Father hissed in my ear.

Energy burst inside of me, flowing out of my body and into Father's. Our bodies were connected, and this energy formed a bond between our very souls. My life-force touched Father's, and we merged together briefly. Pleasure exploded through me. I thought my last orgasm was amazing—this one blew it away. As our souls merged, I became ecstasy, driving every thought from my mind except the exquisite pleasure blossoming inside me. Father's cum shot into me, warm and wet, and filled me up. Mother's hand squeezed mine and I heard her moans of pleasure. Her soul was so connected with Father's, our joining touched her's as well.

"Holy shit!" I gasped when our souls parted.

"You did it, baby-girl," Mother praised. "None of us will ever die. Your father is immortal."

I didn't know what to say to that, and I really didn't care, as Father started driving his cock in and out of my pussy. Every thrust filled me up, stretching my little hole. There was some pain, but it was a beautiful ache, and dwarfed by the pleasure every stroke of his cock gave me. I wrapped my arms around him, my fingers raking his back as I pumped my hips. I needed to cum again. I needed to feel my father's seed pouring into me.

"Oh, yes!" I groaned. "Fuck me, Daddy! Harder! Oh, I'm going to cum again!"

My little cunt spasmed on my Father's cock as he pounded me. I could only moan wordlessly and pump my hips. I learned to grind my clit into his groin, and that pleasure quickly built another orgasm inside me. His rod kept pistoning into me, faster, harder, more frantic. I felt so full, and his shaft's every thrust sparked greater and greater passion inside me.

"My baby-girl," he groaned. "Your pussy feels so amazing, Chase! Fuck!"

His cum shot into me a second time, sending me over the edge. I went rigid; my orgasm writhed through me. "Oh, yes, Daddy!" I groaned. "Oh, yes, thank you, thank you!"

"You're welcome, baby-girl," he sighed, and then he rolled off me. I felt empty. Mother cuddled on one side of Father, and I cuddled on the other, smiling happily. "This is the best birthday ever."

Mother's hand stroked my cheek. "It's not over yet, baby-girl," she smiled.

She ate me out, devouring all of Father's cum from my naughty cunt, then she tongued my asshole. It felt weird when she slid first one, then two fingers into my ass, lubing me up with my pussy juices. Father was fucking her from behind, his muscular body glinting with sweat, his face contorted with animalistic pleasure as he pounded her. Then I had the pleasure of eating out Father's cum from Mother's pussy, enjoying his salty cream and her savory juices while Father took my anal cherry. We fucked the night away, in every combination and position, until we all collapsed sweaty in their bed, Mother and I cuddling on either side of Father.

After that, I couldn't get enough of sex—and there was a mansion full of beautiful women for me to experience. I fucked my half-siblings, I fucked the sluts, I fucked my Aunts and Uncles, my Grandfather, and Grandmothers. I worked my way through every maid we had. My poor pussy felt so abused after the end of the first week. Luckily, Sam showed me this cream she had created, rubbing first the soothing lotion, and then her cock, deep inside my pussy.

"It's your choice if you want to be bound to us," Mother always said. "You can be free to live your life, grow old, and die, or be young and live forever with those that love you."

As my eighteenth birthday approached, I made my choice. "I want to be bound to Mom," I told my parents a week before my birthday. "No offense, Dad, but it lets Grandpa get involved."

Father laughed, and rubbed my head, mussing my hair—I hated when he did that. "You do seem to be an affectionate granddaughter."

"Ever since you sent him and Grandma to Washington D.C. to govern North America, I don't get to see him that much," I pointed out. "He is coming for my birthday, right?"

"Of course he is," Mother reassured, and reached out and gripped my hand. I was going to be the first child bound to them; the trio of Silas, Delilah, and Andrea were waiting for their three-way wedding in a month to be bound.

I was full of energy all week; I'm sure I drove everyone in the mansion nuts, but I was just so excited to see Grandpa. Finally, the day arrived, and my parents threw a lavish party for me. Every Governor and Bishop showed up, all my parents' old friends and their most devoted worshipers. Once again, the entertainment was brought by Bishop Mattock and his stable of Temple Prostitutes.

"I was his first prostitute," Jessie, Bishop Kevin's wife, confided in me as we slipped into an alcove in the ballroom, one of many constructed so people could find a nice, intimate spot. She was a bubbly blonde that looked only twenty. "And it's all thanks to your Father that we got together."

Jessie gave me a screaming orgasm. She was one of many men and women that were eager to bed a Goddess. I was my mother's daughter, and I shared my affections with as many guests as I could before the binding ceremony. A bed had been assembled in the center of the hall, and we all watched Mother getting ravished by Grandfather while Dawn and Rose Cunningham led the assembled clergy in a hymn of praise.

I approached the bed when they were finished, Mother's legs spread wide and her cunt glistening with cum and juices. I crawled across the crimson silk sheets, inhaled the bouquet, and licked deeply into her pussy. Grandfather was salty and Mother was sweet.

"Zimmah," Mother intoned.

Energy seemed to flow from Grandfather into Mother and me, binding me to Mother with chains stronger than death. I shuddered, breathing in deeply. "We'll be together forever, Mommy," I sighed.

"Yes, we will, baby-girl," she smiled, as everyone cheered.

As the party was winding down, I cornered my Grandfather, "You haven't given me your gift yet," I pouted.

"I wanted to give it to you in private," he said.

"Well, I have a surprise for you, too," I giggled wantonly. "Why don't you come to my bedroom in fifteen minutes."

"Sure, Chase."

I slipped out of the ballroom as an orgy formed with those guests still here; Mother and Father were at the center of it. Mother had Alison rimming her ass as Bishop Addison ate her pussy. Father was buried beneath a pile of female flesh made of Aunt Antsy, Jessie, one of Governor Chris's busty wives, and Jessica.

I entered my bedroom and found the outfit that Lillian helped me procure. "They're quite hard to find these days," she had said. "Have fun!" When Grandfather entered the room, a smile broadened his face as he saw me standing coquettishly.

"My sweet Chase, how beautiful you are," he smiled.

"I heard you like naughty schoolgirls," I purred, feeling his eyes rake my body.

I wore a white, button-down blouse tied below my breasts to leave my flat stomach exposed; a tartan skirt, green-and-blue, fell in pleated folds down to my upper thighs, and knee-high, white socks completed the look. I had my auburn hair in a ponytail, hanging over my left shoulder to add a splash of color on the white blouse.

A smile creased his face, and he ran a hand through his red hair streaked with gray. He walked to me, cupped my chin, and stared into my blue eyes. "I love naughty schoolgirls." His hand slid down to squeeze my breast through the blouse, his finger brushing my nipple. "You've been a such a bad girl, haven't you?"

"I have," I purred.

"You'll need to be disciplined."

I blinked, not sure where this was going, but Grandfather's lust was making me feel so womanly, that I didn't resist as he sat down the bed, and pulled me over his lap. He was going to spank me, I realized, as he drew up my skirt.

"Naughty slut, no panties," he hissed, rubbing his hands roughly across my exposed ass.

"I forgot them," I said, trying to sound scared and innocent. Grandfather's cock bulged beneath me.

His hand fell on my ass with a meaty smack, stinging my flesh. I yelped in pain. "You are such a bad little girl!" he groaned. Smack! "So bad!" Smack!

My ass burned, then his hand gently rubbed the flesh, soothing the hurt and building a fire inside me. He spanked me again, harder, and juices leaked out of my cunt. I squirmed, eager for the next strike. I felt so naughty.

"Ohh, spank me, sir!" I moaned. "Punish me!"

Smack! My bottom quivered; the pain went straight to my clit, feeding my fires. He kept spanking me, and I writhed on his lap, rubbing my clit into his thigh. Then he slapped right on my cunt, a wet, smacking sound that shot pain and pleasure through me.

I exploded. "Yes, yes!" I screamed. "I'm so bad!"

He rubbed my cunt, smacked it a second time, and growled, "What a whorish girl you are! I guess I'm going to need to use my rod to punish you!"

I gave a throaty laugh. "Punish me with your thick tool!"

He threw me down on my bed, shoved a pillow underneath my stomach, and knelt behind me. I heard his pants unzip; his cock smacked my plump, smarting asscheek. "Little sluts like you need a hard rod to keep you in line!" he groaned as he shoved his cock into me.

"Fuck me! Pound my little snatch!" I groaned. "Punish me!"

My bed creaked as he slammed his cock into me. The angle let him drive deep, his cock rubbing down the top of my hole, brushing my G-spot. I quivered, and started cumming after just a few strokes, my little cunt rippling on his cock.

"You fucking whore!" he groaned. "You came already?"

"Your tool feels so good!" I panted.

"It's supposed to be a punishment! I think a different hole needs to be reamed!"

"Umm, I couldn't agree more!"

He spread my cheeks, pulling his cock out of my drenched pussy. I had lubed him well, and he speared into my ass with little resistance. I've had many cocks up my ass, and I thrust back against his cock, enjoying how he filled me up. His groin smacked into my pillowy cheeks, aching pain shooting through me, and I shoved my ass up into his strokes.

"Fuck my ass!" I chanted. "Fuck me! Fuck my naughty, schoolgirl ass, Grandpa!"

I wormed my right hand between me and the pillow, found my hard clit, and stroked my pleasure button. Grandfather kept pounding my ass, stirring up my pleasure as I struck sparks on my clit.

"I love your ass, Chase!" he moaned. "My beautiful granddaughter! You look so much like your mother. There's even a bit of your grandmother in your face!"

I frigged my clit, pushing hard on the sensitive nub, so close to cumming. "Fuck me harder!" I shouted. "I need to cum!

He slapped my ass, stinging pain shooting to my pussy, then hunched over me, and pistoned his cock rapidly in and out of my ass. Shivers of pleasure burst through me. I moaned wordlessly as my orgasm shot through me like electricity. My ass milked his cock, transmitting my pleasure to him. Cum erupted violently into me, flooding my ass as Grandfather pumped a few more times, then collapsed atop me.

He spooned me for a while, tracing my arm, as we caught our breath. I felt so warm, so safe, in his arms. "I love you, Grandpa," I sighed.

"I love you, too." The bed creaked and he sat up. I rolled over and watched him walk over and pick up a rectangular present bound in colorful paper. A book! I smiled, and eagerly took it from him.

I ripped open the package. The book was old, the pages yellowing. I've always wanted to have a new book, but none were published these days. Well, not the story ones anyway. The Living Church encouraged its worshipers to only read from the Account of the Gods, the collection of holy scriptures written by various bishops and sluts, or other officially sanctioned books used to educate children.

I glanced at the cover. 'On Liberty' by John Stuart Mill.

"Let this be our little secret," Grandfather said. "I don't think your parents would approve of this one."

I clutched the book to my chest, eager to have this secret with my Grandfather. The book opened my eyes, everything it said seemed to contradict the teachings of the Church and the way my parents had cultivated humanity. It taught that men should be free to act as they will, so long as their actions do not unduly harm another. The Theocracy taught that men must obey the will of the Living Gods and their earthly representatives without question or hesitation.

A month later, right after Silas married Andrea and Delilah, I embarked on a tour of various parts of the World, to let the citizens see their Goddess and know that they were loved. 'On Liberty' opened my eyes to the oppression of the World. Many cities had been destroyed, many lives lost, when the Demons escaped Hell, and much had to be rebuilt. There was a sameness to everything now. There seemed to be only a dozen different plans for houses; neighborhoods in rebuilt Paris looked the same as ones in Jerusalem. Government buildings were built to the exact same plan, laid out in squares with each building resting at the same spot in the square. The same statues dotted parks and the same fountains were the centerpieces of squares. The only things beautiful or original were the monuments and buildings that had survived the Demon Wars. The Gods had approved the new building plans, and no-one had either the daring or the desire to build something different.

Even the citizens were all the same. Sure they had different skin colors, different facial features, but they were identical. Farmers wore the same roughspun garb; miners dressed in leather jackets and orange helmets; nurses in their low-cut, white dresses. They all smiled and talked to each other politely. And they all stared at me in awe. Every last person was under my parents' powers, ordered to love their neighbors, to obey the laws, and to never harm another human. There was no culture nor diversity.

There was no humanity.

The citizens were happy and healthy, they had food and shelter. They were slaves, even if their manacles were invisible. Human nature is not a machine to be built after a model, John Stuart Mill had written almost two hundred years ago, and set to do exactly the work prescribed for it, but a tree, which requires to grow and develop itself on all sides, according to the tendency of the inward forces which make it a living thing.

I was horrified and, when I returned home, I foolishly expected my parents to see the error of their ways when I carefully explained it to them. We sat at dinner, served by scantily clad maids. Supposedly, they were all volunteers, but was that true? How could they not volunteer, when they were told to obey their Gods and love them and serve them in any way possible by the Church and my parents' weekly broadcasts?

Mother stared in disbelief when I finished my lecture on how their actions, while well-meaning, were tyrannical and robbing the people of the world of their most inalienable right—the liberty to make their own decisions.

"She's your daughter," Father laughed and Mother glared at him.

"You have to understand, Chase, we did it for their own good," Mother patiently explained, like I was a child, and I set my teeth.

"And why can't they make their own choices?" I demanded. "Why do they have to take the aptitude test and be assigned their jobs and their housing. Even their spouses are chosen for them. What's the harm in a little freedom?"

"Give man an inch, and he'll take a foot," Father answered. "Humans do poorly with freedom."

"And that's why you won't let them choose their own spouses? What about love? About finding that special someone and choosing to be with them?"

"They're free to love," Mother answered. "They're assigned spouses based on personality and suitable genetic traits. They're free to take any lover they want."

"And what if they hate their spouse?" I demanded.

"They won't," Father answered. "When assigned, they're told that they will always love each other. We care about our followers, and only want the best for them."

I threw my hands up. "That's what I mean. You're taking away even the most intimate decision they can make!"

"What's the harm, they're happy," Mother answered. "Our system makes all the decisions for them, leaving them free to enjoy their lives as they make the world a better place."

"But they don't live, they just exist! You've robbed them of free will, of what makes them human! Why not give them just a little freedom? What is so wrong about that?"

Father stared at me. "Do you know what the world was like before the Theocracy?"

"I've watched your movies."

"Those were fiction!" he snapped. "Like the books that have poisoned your mind. Before we imposed our Utopia, men had all the freedom they wanted, and what did they do with it?"

I shrugged, wilting beneath my Father's anger.

"Men were brutal beasts. Every day, thousands were murdered, raped, and brutalized. Mothers drowned their children because they inconvenienced their love lives, husbands murdered their wives for insurance payouts, and children killed their parents for drug money. Companies sold products that killed and maimed, covering up their crimes to keep their profit margins. Dictators starved their people, while religious extremists butchered those that disagreed on how to worship the same god. There is no depth to the evil and depravity that men and women can sink to."

"Thanks to us, people only die from accidents, old age, and illness," Mother added. "And your Father and I try our best to stop illnesses."

"That the only purpose for which power can be rightfully exercised over any member of a civilized community, against his will, is to prevent harm to others. His own good, either physical or moral, is not a sufficient warrant," I quoted from 'On Liberty'. "Just because someone might do something, or because you think you know better, is not a good enough reason to impose your will on them!" I slammed my fist into the table. "What gives you the right to make slaves of mankind?"

"We are Gods, Chase," Father answered. "That gives us all the right."

I didn't have an answer to that. 'On Liberty' didn't cover the ethics of an actual God, only temporal governments. Suddenly, I felt unsure. Father sounded so certain, so commanding, that I felt foolish for even challenging him.

"There has to be something better," I lamely answered.

"There isn't," Mother said, reaching out and taking my hand. "Trust us, baby-girl. Humans are children, and we're their loving parents. We know what's best for them."

"Okay," I whispered. She hugged me, and I sighed, savoring her motherly affections.

For several years I dropped my objections, letting them fester in the back of my mind. I could find no answer to my parents' assertion. My parents were Gods; I was a Goddess. We were better than all those other humans, so maybe it was only right that we reshape mankind into something better. That was the point of religion, to extort mankind to be better than their base urges. My parents were just more successful at it than the false religions of the past.

It was a chance comment I overheard that changed everything.

I needed something from Sam. I don't remember what it was, something inconsequential, so I walked into her quarters to retrieve it. I didn't knock. After all, I was a Goddess, and I could go where I pleased.

"If they're Gods, why did we have to figure out their miracles," Candy complained to Sam. The TV was turned up loud, and they hadn't heard me enter.

They were sitting on their couch, watching some documentary about Mother and Father; television was the only form of culture allowed in the Theocracy, and it was mostly bland stuff compared to the entertainments that had come before. Mother and Father had quite the collection of movies and TV shows, things banned by their Theocracy, and we'd often watch them together.

Sam answered patiently, like this was an answer she was used to giving, "Great men and women have always stood on the shoulders of their intellectual betters. Why would Mark and Mary be any different than the thousands of petty tyrants that have come before?"

I was shocked. Never had I heard anyone impugn my parents before. I was intrigued. Did Sam and Candy not believe in our Godhood? A few days later, I tripped Candy into my bed, and after some vigorous fucking, we cuddled, and I asked her bluntly what she meant by her comment that day in front of the TV.

Candy tensed. "You heard that?"

I nodded. "It sounded like you two don't think we're Gods."

She gave me a considering look, fingering a lock of her honey-blonde hair. I knew from pictures she used to dye it garishly, half-pink and half-blue. "Have you ever read the Magicks of the Witch of Endor?"

I frowned, that sounded familiar, but I was sure I hadn't read it.

"I'll email you Sam's translation," she told me.

It destroyed my world. My parents weren't Gods, they just made deals with the very Demons that had ravaged the world during my childhood. And some of the deals in there were vile. What sort of monsters were my parents? All their justifications for enslaving mankind rang hollow in my ears. They weren't better than the humans—they were humans. Subject to the same flawed hearts they claimed could not be trusted.

The same flawed heart that beat in my chest.

I couldn't look at my parents without feeling sick, imagining Father sacrificing a woman to Molech, or Mother strangling a girl for power to Ashtoreth. I felt suffocated in the mansion, surrounded by evidence of my parents' abhorrent excess. Even Candy, who seemed so critical of my parents, wasn't disturbed by their powers, just jealous of them.

I had to leave.

At the age of twenty-three, I walked down the driveway of the mansion and out onto the roads. I had never walked any great distance, but I was young and I adapted. I walked for hours, leaving the large compound that made up the Theocracy's Capital of South Hill. I didn't know where I was going, what I was doing. I just had to escape.

Two bodyguards tracked me down on the second day. "Holy Daughter," 312 said respectfully to me. "Your parents are worried about you."

"Let them worry," I said, with a toss of my hair, and kept walking.

"They want you to come home," 71 added. "They're concerned about you."

"I don't ever want to see those monsters again!" I shouted. "I want nothing to do with Warlocks!" I put all my hate, all my disgust, into that word. Warlocks. I knew the stories: before the Demons there were the Warlocks. Petty men and women who sold their souls for power. People just like my parents.

I kept on walking; the two bodyguards stared stupidly at my back. I could feel their eyes as I walked down the road, west towards Tacoma then south. I walked until I became tired. There was always a helpful 'citizen' that would offer to let me stay in their house. When I was hungry, I ate at the communal cafeterias that provided free meals to their neighborhoods. I just walked and walked, down the West Coast, into Mexico, then I followed the Caribbean into the South. Every so often, a representative of my parents would find me, and try to convince me to come home.

I grew lean, hard. My feet became tough with callouses, my face darkened by the sun. When I reached the East Coast, I took a cargo ship to Europe. Normal citizens weren't allowed to travel, but I was a false Goddess, nothing was denied me. I was aimless, restless. Five years had passed without me even realizing it. Why was I walking? Everything was the same. The people were all the same slaves.

I needed to free these people. I needed to atone for my parents' great sin.

I tried to find allies, to stir up the population. Sometimes, I'd find a man or woman that had some passion, some spark that hadn't been beaten out of them by my parents, and I would latch on to them, clinging to them as tightly as a drowning person to a piece of flotsam. I'd take them as my lover, and we'd pass the weeks talking, plotting, trying to find others to help us.

It always ended the same way—they would be unable to change, to break free of my parents' control, and I would grew melancholy and walk. I desperately wanted to be with my family again, but I couldn't ignore the monstrousness of their Theocracy. If I could just find a way to restore Liberty to mankind, I knew I could go home.

We'd be a family again.

I walked the world, traversing every last continent save Antarctica. I was immortal; time didn't matter. I looked eighteen, even though I was thirty, then I was thirty-five. It was hard to care anymore. When winter came, I went south; when summer came I would go north, or further south. I once stood at the tip of South America, staring at Cape Horn, and remembering the stories I had read of great sailing ships battling the elements as they rounded this point, and the terrible storms that would assail them as the Europeans explored the world.

When my melancholy was at its strongest, I contemplated suicide. Once, I stood at the rim of the Grand Canyon, gazing down into red depths and the blue Colorado snaking through the canyon. One step. A few years later, I sat at the edge of Victoria Falls, watching the curtain of water fountain into mist and thinking I could just swim out and let the current take me and carry me from this life. But then I'd remember I was bound to Mother. If I died, I would just wait in the Shadows with all those chained to my parents that had died.

My thirty-ninth birthday passed as I walked the Jordan River and reached the Dead Sea. I floated in the warm, salty waters, trying to wash clean my parents' filth. I had just broken up with Barakat, a beautiful Arab youth. He was sixteen, his skin the color of rich coffee, and his eyes full of life. I had let myself again foolishly think I had found the one person that would care about what my parents had made of the world, and then he had come home, excited that the aptitude test had selected him to be a farmer.

"I thought you wanted to be an Engineer?"

"I did," he shrugged, "but the Gods need me to be a farmer." He smiled broadly, that beautiful, happy smile I fell in love with.

"So be an Engineer, don't let them choose," I told him.

He frowned. "But they need me to be a farmer. The Gods know, Chase."

My love died, like it always did, and I had walked and walked, following the Jordan River south until I reached its terminus—the Dead Sea. As I lay floating in the Dead Sea, I thought about drowning myself in the warm, salty embrace. After hours, I lost my nerve, and swam back to the shore and kept walking. South, into the Arabian Peninsula. I followed the Red Sea Coast for a week—I was in no hurry, my life had no meaning—when I came across a sign that pointed to a mountain called Jebel al-Lawz. A single word was spray painted beneath the mountain's name—Hope.

Hope. I had been without hope for over twenty years.

I followed the road. It lead to a low, conical mountain. It was really more of a steep hill than a mountain. I had grown up in the sight of Mount Rainier rearing up like a monolith, looming over you every day clad in the blue-white majesty of its glaciers. Jebel al-Lawz was a squat, ugly, red mound, rising out of the desert, the summit blackened like it had been engulfed in flames.

As I neared the mountain, maybe just a few miles away, I passed through...something. It was a warm membrane of energy that gave way before me, enveloping me in golden light for the briefest instant, and then it passed. I blinked; the valley around the peak wasn't empty anymore. Tents—colorful and ranging in shape, size, styles, and materials—were set up. They were pitched haphazardly, with no thought or planning.

People walked about. They were different. No-one dressed similarly, people laughed, children played. As I walked closer, I realized these were people who lived. What was this place? Who were these people? They saw me, and a hush seemed to fall about them. They began to gather, watching me with cautious faces.

"H-hello," I hesitantly said. I felt a little afraid of them. I had never been afraid of my parents' slaves; they would never have been able to harm me. But these people were free. I could see it in their eyes, in their postures, in the way some viewed me with hope, some with skepticism, or fear, or distrust.

The crowd parted, and a rugged young man and a young woman stepped out. The man was fit, sturdy, with brown hair and blue eyes, his arm around the woman; she was round-faced, a beautiful, welcoming smile gracing her lips. Her face was framed by braided black hair, coiled about her crown; reassurance filled her green eyes.

"You're not their slaves?" I asked, chewing on my lips.

"No," the man smiled. "We are the last free men and women. I am Doug Allard, and this is Tina, my wife."

The woman, Tina, smiled, and threw her arms around my neck. I relaxed. "I've been searching for this for so long," I whispered, my eyes brimming with tears.

"And we have waited even longer for you to arrive, Prophetess," Tina whispered back.

"Prophetess?" I asked, pushing away from Tina. The crowd had grown larger, more than a hundred, and they all stared at me with...hope. I shivered despite the heat.

Doug nodded. "You are Chasity Glassner?"

"Yeah." I looked around. These people were free. There were others that resisted my parents' evil. Hope bubbled inside me. Had I really found what I've been searching for? I pushed down my hope, trying to temper it with caution; I had been disappointed so many times. "What is this place?"

"The refuge," Tina answered. "For forty years Doug and I have waited in the wilderness for you, gathering those who were not satisfied with the world, with your parents. Excluding the children, we number one hundred and forty-four; seventy-two men, seventy-two women."

I swallowed, "Why are you waiting for me?"

"To guide us, to renew the Gift of the Spirit to mankind," Doug answered. "To free the World from bondage."

I'd found it. Relief ballooned inside me, along with hope. So many years of walking, of doubt and bitterness, had finally paid off. "So why do you need me for that?"

"You are the daughter of two Warlocks," Tina answered. "You have rejected their lifestyle, and turned your back on evil. Only you can perform the prayer of Rapha."

I frowned, not recalling that prayer from the Magicks of the Witch of Endor. "What does it do?"

"Gives back hope to mankind," Tina answered.

"My wife and I are the last Priests living. Your parents hunted down the last few of us, the final threats to their power," Doug sadly said. "But we have done our duty, and hid while your parents dominated the world, all for this day."

The Magicks of the Witch of Endor talked about Priests and Priestesses, men and women granted the powers of Heaven to fight Warlocks and Demons. "So you need my help to exorcise my parents?" I asked, smiling. That would free mankind.

We could be a family again. "Thank you!" I smiled, tears misting my eyes. "This is perfect! It'll break their mind control and make them human again!"

Tina gave me a sad look. "I'm so sorry, child."

I frowned. "Why? Exorcising won't harm my parents. Right?"

"Your parents are beyond exorcism. They've absorbed the powers of Lucifer, Molech, Lilith, and many other Powers. No Priestess has the strength to overcome that. Only a Priest's sword killing your parents would work, and..."

"And Father's immortal," I whispered. Hope burst inside me, replaced by cold dread. I pushed down the panic. They mentioned the Rapha prayer. "That's what the new prayer is for, right? Stripping them of their powers?" Please, please, please, let that be true.

Tina's green, sad eyes peered at me.

"They have to die?" That couldn't be my voice; I hadn't sounded that young in years.

"I'm sorry," Tina whispered.

I'm sorry. The words were a punch to my stomach. I stumbled back; the world seemed to spin about me as tears burned down my cheeks. This can't be happening! Not after all my searching. "I have to kill him?" My voice cracked, wavered. Oh, no. Father made himself immortal to everything except me. "Please, no! There has to be another way!"

Tina hugged me as I started weeping. "It's your choice, Prophetess. The World can remain their slaves, or you can set them free."

No, no, no. I wanted to free mankind, not murder my parents. This couldn't be happening! I pushed away and ran. Tears stained my eyes, almost blinding me as I raced down a trail. I hated what my parents had done to mankind, but I loved them.

I couldn't kill them, right? And it wouldn't just be them, but all the people bound to them. The sluts, my half-siblings, the bodyguards and maids. My family for the World's freedom. How fair was that?

This would be so much easier if I could hate them!

I ran up the side of the mountain, scampering up the gentle slope, climbing higher and higher. I scrabbled over red boulders; my years of walking had given me great endurance. I paused only to drink from my water bottle, then kept climbing, ignoring the sun pounding on my back. The rocks turned black; I found myself at the summit.

I stared out at the expanse of the Arabian Desert. Brown and yellow leading off in all directions, with just a smear of blue in the distance, the Red Sea. Once, black-robed Bedouin had wandered this wasteland, eking out an existence in the harsh landscape. But they had been moved to cities along the coast, ostensibly for their own good.

We are Gods, Chase. That gives us all the right.

Whatever crushes individuality is despotism. The words from 'On Liberty' echoed in my mind. Could I kill my parents? Was the blood of the few hundred people—my family—worth freeing billions from bondage? Did I have to destroy my soul to save mankind?

The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants. Thomas Jefferson had written those words when the American Colonies revolted against the British when they had no say in their own governance, no representatives in Parliament.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. Other words written by Jefferson.

Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.

My parents had robbed the world of Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness, leaving them only with their Lives. They may have meant well, but the results were monstrous. They had pruned all the character out mankind with their tyranny, leaving behind only stunted bushes shaped to my parents' desires. Mere automatons going through the motions of living.

There was a sci-fi movie my Father loved, and I remembered at the end as one of the characters was dying, having sacrificing himself for the ship, he had said, "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few."

One last tear rolled down my cheek as the sun set, and the stars twinkled to life across the crystal clear sky above me.

The needs of the many.

I watched the stars wheel across the night sky, twinkling down on us. I envied them. They had no concerns, no torn emotions. They just burned brightly, happily fusing hydrogen into helium into lithium into iron, until finally they died, whether in fiery explosions or guttering out like a candle.

As dawn neared, blushing the horizon in pink, I heard footsteps behind me—Doug and Tina. He held a scroll and she held a black knife. I stood and faced them. I didn't know what to do, what was the right choice. Did the needs of the many outweigh the lives of my family? Were their needs more important than the wounds to my soul?

"Prophetess," Tina greeted.

"I'm not your Prophetess," I muttered. "I...I don't know what to do."

"I understand, child," she whispered. "I would take the burden from you if I could."

Her eyes burned with conviction. I didn't know what to say, I didn't know what to do, so I just blurted out, "What is that scroll?"

"The original copy of the Magicks of the Witch of Endor," Doug said, handing me the scroll. "I have kept it safe for forty years, waiting for the day you'd arrive. The prayer of Rapha is contained at the end of the scroll. Perhaps it will help with your decision."

I unfurled the scroll. It contained square Hebrew letters and was written in Aramaic. It was familiar. The memory of Sam's lessons in Semitic Languages from my childhood came back, and I recognized passages from her translation. I read the final prayer, frowning. This wasn't in the copy my parents possessed.

My parents had definitely never seen this prayer. If they had, I would never have been allowed to roam free. "And the Creator knew, in his infinite Wisdom," it read, "that a time would come when his Priest and Priestess would fall against the forces of the Adversary. Darkness would cover the world, and again the Gifts of the Spirit would be needed, spread by the words of the chosen Prophet, one born of the union of two Warlocks, bound by the Zimmah ritual, and used as the focus of the Eylowm ritual. Only the Prophet can restore the Gift to mankind upon the summit of Mount Sinai. The Prophet must..."

I looked up at Doug and Tina in horror as comprehension flooded my exhausted mind. "The Eylowm ritual is a trap?" My hand trembled. "My parents were manipulated into their own downfall?"

"Why else is it so powerful?" asked Tina. "Immortality? No weapon, no force, no illness can harm your father, let alone kill him. It's almost too good to be true, isn't it?"

"That's monstrous!"

"Your parents made the choice of their own free will," Doug softly answered. "They made their pacts with the Adversary, gained power in exchange for their souls. They declared themselves false gods, and unleashed the demonic hordes upon mankind. Choices have consequences, Chasity, and the Creator is always ready to turn those consequences to his advantage."

"If He's so powerful, why didn't He stop my parents!" I shouted. "Why do I have to do this? Why?"

"You do not have to do this," Tina smiled. "It's your choice. Free will is the most important thing in all of creation; He would never take that away from you. That's why He didn't interfere with your parents. They had to be free to choose, or there's no choice at all. Without choice, then we're just mindless puppets, slaves, and that's not what He wants."

Slaves. My parents' had enslaved mankind; the most monstrous thing imaginable. They had made their choice, and denied all the world of theirs. It wasn't right. The needs of the many have to come before the needs of the few. That the only purpose for which power can be rightfully exercised over any member of a civilized community, against his will, is to prevent harm to others. John Stuart Mills was right; my parents had harmed, were harming, all of mankind, and therefore it was only right that power should be exercised against them. A strange calm filled me. I had made my decision.

"I will be your Prophetess," I answered; my chin held high.

Doug nodded.

"This is a Mispachs. One of three forged by Cain from the metal of a falling star," Tina said, handing it to me. "Nick the blade, and your blood will bind it to you. Anyone wounded with this blade will die. Only your lifeblood will save them."

I nodded; Lilith had almost killed Mother with one. I took the ugly, black-iron blade, stared at it, then I pricked my thumb. A drop of dark blood beaded on my tan flesh. I smeared it on the blade. The dagger turned red for a moment, drinking in my blood, then went back to ugly black. I was connected to the damned thing; it felt like an open wound throbbing on my forehead. Tina handed me a sheath, and I put the dagger into my pack.

I reread the scroll again, committing the Prayer of Rapha to memory, and turned to face the rising sun. "This is Mount Sinai?" That was the only place in the world the spell could be cast. "I thought that was up on the Sinai Peninsula, not in the middle of Arabia."

Doug nodded. "Much has been lost in the thousands of years since the last Prophet stood here and gave the Third Gift to mankind."

I raised my arms to the rising sun. "The Highest One, hear the prayers of your Children! Deliver us from evil, and send your Spirit to Gift us with your Blessing, to Gird us with Belief, and Arm us with Faith!"

Power flowed into me, golden, beautiful, pure. It flowed from Doug, from Tina, it flowed from my parents half the world away. More power flowed from the spirits of the dead, the men and women who had died unable to pass their Gift on: Isabella, Agnes, John, Gregory, Eustace, Isolde, Tristram, and more. So many more. One hundred and forty-four souls gave up their Gifts, until they were all contained within me.

I was the Prophetess, the Vessel, and I shared the Gift, giving a part to each of the one hundred and forty-four gathered—the two atop the mountain, and the one-hundred and forty-two at the base, the new Priests and Priestesses, the new Monks and Nuns—to save the world from the evils of my parents.

To be concluded...

---

The Devil's Pact Side-Story: Violet's Reunion

mypenname3000

Fantasy, Domination/submission, Female/Female, Incest, Oral Sex

Introduction:

On the eve of her wedding to Cindy, Violet's abusive mother shows up at the mansion.

Notes: This takes place during Chapter 52.

Tuesday, November 26th, 2015 – Cindy Mayflower – The Mansion, South Hill

pThings were hectic in the mansion. Everyone seemed to be in a hurry, carrying documents and plans to and from the Matmown in the basement where my Lord and Lady had been ensconced since they had woken up. They were planning the invasion of England. The Legion would need a toehold on the island nation to launch the offensive into the Western Europe and defeat the demon Astarte.

I was also stressed, and I only had my wedding to plan. The happy day where Violet and would be joined was only a week away. It seemed almost selfish to be planning such a happy occasion while most of the world were under the oppression of the demons, but you had to keep living even if the world seemed to be ending.

Life was precious. So many of those that lived in the mansion had died the last year, most of them were bodyguards. But two maids were killed when demons slipped behind the lines last February in the campaign against Chemosh in South America.

"Cindy," Marcy, a maid with saucy, blue eyes said, running down the hall. "There's a Deidre Matheson asking to see you."

I froze. "Me?"

She nodded. I swallowed, and wondered what my future mother-in-law was doing here. As far as I knew, she hadn't made the effort to see Violet since Mark had first claimed Violet as his slut over two years ago.

"What does that bitch want?" I demanded.

Violet Matheson

"No, they have to look like this!" I snapped at Tomoyo, and the Japanese maid gave a start at my sudden outburst. I pushed her to the side and arranged all the beautiful plates, cups, and utensils just right. "Like this."

"Sorry, miss," quailed Tomoyo.

Lillian snickered. "What bee's crawled up your cunt, Violet?"

I froze, then blushed. "Oh, Gods, I'm sorry, Tomoyo. I didn't mean to snap. I can't believe it, I'm turning into bridezilla."

"A bit," Lillian said, holding her fingers apart.

She sat on one of the tables, naked, her black hair done up in pigtails like me, but her hair was pure black. She had stopped highlighting her hair with blue and purple streaks after Lucifer's light beams had dissolved one of her pigtails while she cowered on the ground. A half-inch closer and she'd be hanging out with Chasity and the other ghosts in Hell.

That had been the scariest day of my life. But Master and Mistress had proven just how amazing they were by outwitting the greatest demon alive—Lucifer. The very entity they had made their Pact with. Of course, we weren't supposed to talk about their Pact, but all the sluts knew the truth. April's Gospel sanitized any mention of the truth behind Master's and Mistress's abilities. Not even Cindy knew.

She would though. Once we were married, she'd become a the newest slut, elevated to that august position, and privy to all the secrets. She was eagerly awaiting that day. And so was I. On our wedding night, Master had already promised that he and Mistress would spend it with us, fucking us the whole night through.

"Violet!"

I whirled and smile to see my lovely bride-to-be briskly walking to me in her maid's outfit. She was twenty now, but would forever look like immature and eighteen, never aging like the rest of us thanks to the Zimmah bond.

"What?" I smiled, holding out my arms and sweeping my fiancee up into my embrace and kissing her cute face. My tongue ran across her braces—not needed, but Master loved them—as her hands slid down and squeezed my ass.

"No, wait!" she gasped, pushing away. "We need to talk."

"Oh, about what?"

"In private."

"Oh, we don't need privacy for that," I giggled. "I'm sure Tomoyo and Lillian won't mind watching us fuck like two cute minxes."

"Nope!" Lillian giggled.

"I would enjoy that," Tomoyo added.

"It's not that. Just c'mon, Violet."

I let my cute fiancee drag me out of the dining hall where our wedding reception would be held. It was the largest hall in the mansion, used for important events. It was going to be a grand affair. High Priestess Rose was officiating, Master and Mistress would bless us, and Bishop Kevin Mattock's stable of sexy girls would be the entertainment with his wife, Jessie, as the centerpiece.

"So what is it?" I asked, stroking her blonde tresses.

She took a deep breath. "Your mother is here."

I went cold. "No. She can't be here."

Cindy grabbed my hand and brought it up to her lips, kissing my knuckles. "She spoke to me. And she wants to apologize for what's she did to you."

"It's a trick," I gasped. "She wants to put me in the room again!"

"Shh, my love. We're in the mansion. The heart of the Theocracy's power. What could your mother possibly do to you here? You're one of the Holy Sluts. Only the Living Gods wield more power than you."

"I am a Holy Slut," I whispered. I took a deep breath. I had witnessed the Miracle. I had been with Master during Brandon's treacherous attack, and I had survived Armageddon in Bradley Park. I had survived the best the Devil could throw at Master. I could handle my mother.

Right?

Oh, why couldn't I have Alison's heedless courage?

"You don't have to see the bitch," Cindy hissed. "It's your choice."

My mother had been horrible, particularly after she caught me naked in bed with Summer, my mouth licking my girlfriend's pussy, her mouth licking mine. That day had been terrible, but there were times, many of them, where she had been a loving mother to me.

"Okay," I whispered. "You'll be there, right?"

"Of course. I'll make sure she won't hurt you."

I smiled, and kissed my fiancee.

Mother awaited us in our bedroom. I was trembling when we reached our apartments. A pair of bodyguards stood outside my door—they were everywhere in the mansion these days—and that reassured me. The bodyguards would die to protect me.

She stiffly sat on a chair, staring down at her hands clutched on her lap. She looked up, hope blossoming in her face framed by brown, shoulder-length hair. We looked a lot alike, though her nose was a little bigger. She dressed the same as always—conservatively. That was surprising. Had she missed Master's conditioning somehow? Was she one of the Denialist that had fled to the countryside to live in communes free of technology and Master's commands? If the war wasn't going on, Master would not have tolerated those compounds existence for so long.

"Violet," she said. "I...It's good to see you."

"It's good to see me?" I shrieked, surprised at the sudden anger that rose inside me. This was the woman that locked me in the room with all the heat lamps to try and sweat the homosexuality out of me. "That's all you have to say?"

She flinched, shrinking in the chair like a scared, lost child.

How had I ever been afraid of this woman?

"I just...wanted to wish you happiness on your upcoming nuptials," she whispered.

My jaw dropped. "You want to wish me happiness for marrying Cindy? You do know she's a woman, right? I thought you hated lesbians?"

"I...I don't hate you," she said. "I just want to be your mother again. I love you, Violet."

"So you locked me in that room? That's how you show me your love?"

Her face broke; a sob escaped her lips, and tears gushed from her eyes. "I'm so sorry, baby-girl. I was confused. I thought I was helping you be normal."

"I was normal. What you did was abnormal."

She nodded. "It was. I'd do anything to make it right." She fell to her knees on the floor. "I've been living with regret ever since you went with him. This is all my fault. I didn't love you right. I let my own prejudices twist my love into something hateful."

"You'll do anything?"

"Yes."

I grabbed my fiancee, pulling her towards my kneeling mother. Then I lifted her maid's skirt. Her pussy was bare, no maid wore panties, and I ran a finger through her shaved lips; Cindy moaned in delight.

"I love to eat this pussy, Mother," I said.

My mother looked at the floor, her face reddening.

"Look at it, Mother!"

She flinched and hesitantly looked up.

"That's it, Mother. Stare at her pussy. Isn't it beautiful? So tight," I stroked along her girlish slit, her labia didn't peak out at all. "And look at her little clitoris. Isn't that cute."

"It's a pussy," Mother said. "And they weren't meant to be displayed like this."

"Breathe in deeply," I said, ignoring her comments. "You can smell her arousal. I love that musk. I love to bury my face in there and breathe in deeply before I lick her pussy until she cums."

"I understand," Mother sighed. "I accept that your a lesbian. I don't care about that. I just want to be your mother again. I just...I just want your forgiveness."

"You think it will come easy!" I demanded. "If you want my forgiveness, then show that you accept my bisexuality! Because I love cock just as much as cunt, mother!"

"I do accept it. Cindy is a lovely girl. I'll call her my daughter and be happy for the two of you."

"That's not good enough! Lick her pussy, Mother."

She blinked up at me, her face twisting with revulsion.

"See!" I accused. "You're disgusted by it!"

"I..." she swallowed, then looked up at Cindy's pussy. "I've never done that."

"Start licking or get out!"

She swallowed, took a deep breath, then gingerly stuck her tongue out and took a brief swipe, just grazing Cindy's pussy. She blanched. Anger seized me, and I grabbed her head and shoved her face into my fiancee's cunt.

"Lick it! Make her cum!"

Cindy gasped. "Oh, yes! Just like that! Don't be shy! Really work that tongue inside me."

"Eat my fiancee," I purred. "Just like that. Be a good, lesbo mother!"

I held my mother's head tight as I leaned in and kissed Cindy. Our tongues danced; a moan built in Cindy's throat, muffled by my lips. Cindy's kiss grew more direct, more forceful, as her lust built. Her hips shook, and then she was writhing on my mother's lips.

I broke the kiss. "That's it! Eat that pussy, Mother! Love her!"

"Oh, fuck! She's learning fast! Wiggle that tongue deep inside me! Oh, yes!"

"Make my fiancee cum, Mother!" I moaned. "Be a good, lesbian whore and worship her cunt! Drink her juices! Learn to savor them. You're going to be licking a lot pussies!"

"Oh, yes! That's it Mrs. Matheson! Tongue my twat! Oh, fuck! I'm gonna cum! Hell, yeah! I'm gonna cum all over that juicy, sexy mouth of yours!"

"Cum!" I purred into Cindy's ears. "Flood her mouth. Make that lesbian-hating whore into a real dyke!"

"Yes! Drink it! Drink it all down, Mrs. Matheson!"

Cindy threw back her head, blonde hair flying about, and shuddered on my mom's face. I held her, feeling my fiancee's muscles tremble as she came hard. She was so beautiful. Cindy gave one last shudder, then stumbled back, panting hard. Mother looked dazed, her face smeared with whitish juices. Her tongue licked out, gathering a smear.

"Did you like that?" I asked.

"No," she answered. "But I hope it proves that I'm changing."

I sat on the chair, and spread my legs. She could see right up the short skirt I wore to my bare twat. I crooked a finger at her. Mother's eyes widened and she stared at my pussy in horror, shaking her head.

"You're my daughter!"

"I know," Violet purred. "Mistress loves fucking her mother, and Master and his mother are so sexy together, so I bet having your tongue my pussy will be heavenly. Besides, Cindy will return the favor."

"I will," my fiancee purred, stroking my mother's head. "I'll tongue your little snatch and put a huge smile on your stuck up face."

"Either lick my pussy, or get the fuck out!" I shouted.

"It's wrong!"

"Not any longer. The Gods have declared incest to be perfectly natural."

"Go and lick her pussy like the good, little lesbian whore you are," Cindy purred, planting her foot on my mother's ass and pushing her towards me.

Mother crawled slowly, a look of shock on her face. Cindy kicked her ass lightly, nudging her to go faster. She reached the chair; her hands rested on my knees and electricity shot through me. My pussy ached to be licked; I grabbed her brown hair and pulled her face right against my twat.

"Eat me, Mother!"

Her tongue dug through my slit. "Oh, yes!" I moaned as her tongue licked through my petals and flicked my clit, sparks pulsing through me. "That's it. Be my lesbian whore!"

Cindy knelt down, hiking up her skirt and pulling down her panties. "Umm, what a great ass you have Mrs. Matheson."

My mother gasped into my pussy as Cindy tongued her ass. My mother's tongue wiggled deep inside me, moving wildly as my fiancee worshiped her asshole. Cindy's hand move, pumping fingers in and out of my mother's twat. She copied; my hips twitched as two of Mother's fingers penetrated my sopping pussy, burying deep inside me. She pumped them in and out, her tongue working on my clit, building the pressure inside me.

"Oh, yes, Mother! Eat me! Make me cum!"

She moaned into my pussy, fingers pumping faster. Cindy's blue eyes flashed at me above my mother's ass, full of naughty mirth. I humped my pussy into my mother's licking mouth. So wonderful. I was going to cum pretty fast.

"That's it! Just keep eating me! I love it! We could have been doing this for years, Mother! Every night we could have shared a bed and licked each other to heaven!"

My pleasure built and built, worked by Mother's tongue. I gave a loud shriek, pulling her face deep into my twat, and came. It was stupendous. Pleasure radiated out through me, spurred on my delightful mother's tongue.

"Yes, yes!" I gasped. "You loved me so well, Mother! You're a dirty, lesbian slut now!"

My mother moaned like a banshee into my cunt as she bucked back against Cindy's mouth and fingers. I savored her gasps and groans into my pussy as my mother came. Her tonguing slowed as she was overwhelmed by her first, lesbian cum.

I let go of her hair and Cindy stopped tonguing her ass. Mother sat on her knees, looking up at me, smeared with even more pussy juices. "I am so sorry, Violet," she cried. "I was a terrible mother."

"I know," I told her, and leaned down and hugged her. "I forgive you."

"Really?" she asked. "We can be a family again?"

I pulled away. "I don't know." I said. "Today was a start, but you really hurt me, Mother."

She nodded her head. "Thank you for forgiving me."

I stroked her face. "Well, I've mostly forgiven you." I stood up and took her hand, leading her to the door. I opened it and looked at the bodyguards on duty, reading the numbers engraved on their chokers. "213, take my mother to the barracks. She's to pleasure every bodyguard that wants to use her."

"Yes, miss," 213 saluted.

"What?" Mother asked.

"I want to make sure you've learned to accept homosexuality," I told her. "So spend a week in the barracks. At my wedding, I want you to be ready to show any woman just how much you love pussy."

213 grabbed my mother's arm with a tight grip. My mother slumped her shoulders and let herself be taken.

Cindy laughed, "She deserves more."

"Yes," I nodded. "But she's my mother. And you can't help who you love." I glanced at Cindy and caressed her face.

"Aww, you say the sweetest things, Violet."

---

The Devil's Pact Chapter 53: The Fall of Rome

mypenname3000

Fantasy, First Time, Group Sex, Incest, Male/Female, Male/Teen Female, Males / Females, Mind Control, Wife

Introduction:

Chase plans the downfall of her parents and their Theocracy.

My name is Chasity Alberta Glassner, the Tyrants' daughter. I write these words down so my motivations will not be lost to time, and so there will be no confusion, speculation, or misunderstanding about my actions.

–Excerpt from 'The Tyrants' Daughter: An Autobiography' by Saint Chasity Alberta Glassner

Mark Glassner – May 9th, 2053

"I'm ready, Grandpa," little Liza smiled at me.

Well, she wasn't really that little at sixteen. She was my youngest grandchild, daughter of Marcelo and Calypso. The other grandparents, Alison and Desiree, watched happily as dusky-skinned Liza stretched out on the bed in a frilly, pink nightgown, her lush body peaking invitingly through the sheer fabric.

"I want you to be my first," Liza cooed.

"You won't regret it, mi Florecita," Desiree beamed. Her arms were wrapped around our son Marcelo.

"Master knows how to use his cock," laughed Alison.

"Yes, he does," giggled Calypso. She was perched on her mother's lap, her honey-brown hair, a slightly lighter shade then Alison's, falling in a thick braid between her breasts. Alison leaned down, and licked our daughter's nipple with her pierced tongue, then sucked the pink nub into her lips. "Umm, that's nice, mom."

"After I've made you a woman, are you sure you want to be bound to me?" I asked my granddaughter, sitting on the bed, my hand stroking her thigh.

"I want to lick your cum out of Great-Nana's cunt," Liza smiled.

"Just call me Nana," my mom scolded. "You make me feel so old."

My mom was a beautiful, mature woman. When I bound her in her early forties, her beauty had just ripened into its lush fullness, and she still looked the same, her body trim, her breasts just starting to sag. Mary cuddled up to my mom on a love seat, stroking my mother's beautiful tits.

Liza rolled her eyes, "You're ancient Nana. Like in your eighties. But you still look beautiful."

"Thank you for the compliment," my mom smiled, "and I'll forget that you called me old."

Mary gave her tit a squeeze. "You are definitely not old with a pair of tits like this, Sandy." Then my wife bent down and sucked a pink nipple into her lips.

In a month, Mary and I would have been married forty years. She was fifty-nine, but still looked as youthful, and as beautiful, as they day we met. None of us had aged. Mary and I due to our Gifts, and our families due to the Zimmah ritual. Calypso and Marcelo still looked sixteen, Alison seventeen, and Desiree twenty-seven.

I stretched out beside Liza, a bit of apprehension in her eyes. "It'll be okay," I told her, bending down to gently kiss her tiny lips. She relaxed, kissing me back eagerly.

She wasn't a bad kisser. I knew she'd played kissing games with her two older cousins Matt and Tamara, my two other grandchildren by my son Silas and his two wives. I let my hand touch her silk nightie, sliding up her side to grope her small breasts. After tonight, she'd be an A cup and sixteen for the rest of her life.

Her breast felt firm, her nipple hard, then I slipped my hand inside her bodice and felt her warm flesh directly. She shuddered delicately as I groped her small tit. Her kiss grew passionate, her tiny hands reaching out to feel my muscular chest, then sliding down to hesitantly grasp my hard cock. She traced my length up to the mushroom-shaped head. Her fingernail scraped my sensitive flesh; a shudder passed through me.

"Oh, Sandy," I heard Mary moan.

I broke the kiss to see that my mother had slipped to the floor and had buried her face into my wife's waxed pussy. Mary smiled at me, squeezing her freckled breasts and savoring my mother's tongue in her pussy.

They weren't the only family members making love. Desiree had mounted our son, his hard cock sliding into his mother's cunt. Marcelo had his face buried in her pillowy breasts as her plump ass flexed as she rode him. Calypso sat next to her husband on the divan, squeezing Marcelo's hand as Alison went down on her. Our daughter had gathered a handful of Alison's honey-brown hair, pulling her mother's face into her cunt. I sometimes missed Alison's pink hair. It had been thirty years, I think, since she stopped dying it.

"Don't forget about me, Grandpa," Liza pouted.

"Sorry, but don't they all look so happy?"

Liza giggled. "They do. We have the best family in the world. All of us loving each other, and..."

Her voice trailed off; she must have seen the pain in my face. My family wasn't whole; I hadn't seen my daughter Chase in sixteen years. She was the only child Mary and I ever had. Sure, we had other children with the sluts, but she was special. She was ours. Sometimes I would go days without thinking about her, and then I would be reminded about her and the pain would come crashing back. We did something to our daughter, something that disgusted her so much that she wanted nothing to do with us.

I think she found out the truth about us.

It was easy to forget that we were human when everyone worshiped us as their Gods. But we weren't; my wife and I were just regular humans that sold our souls and made the most of it. But Chase was such an idealist, poisoned by some book she had read. Mary kept saying she'll come back, we have eternity, we can be patient and let her work it out. After sixteen years, I was losing faith that I would ever see her again.

"Sorry, Liza," I said, turning back to my beautiful, and very nubile, granddaughter. I slipped one of the straps of her pink nightie off her shoulder, pushing it down her arm. A dusky breast and a brown nipple was exposed. I couldn't resist, and bent down and captured the hard nub, enjoying the feel of it between my lips.

"Umm, Grandpa!" Liza cooed as I sucked. "That feels wicked!"

My hand slid down her body as I worshiped her nipple, pulling up the hem of her nightie, and found her dripping, shaved cunt. I stroked around her labia, her sighs and coos filling my ears. Her body jumped as I slid a finger into her hot depths, finding her hymen. I had to taste her. I moved down her body, spreading her thighs, and inhaled her tangy honey.

"Holy shit!" she gasped as my tongue slid through the furrow of her pussy.

"You are in for a treat!" Mary purred. "Your grandfather gives the best head, for a man."

My tongue found her clit. My granddaughter jumped, her thighs pressing tight about my head. Her fingers rubbed through my hair, gripping me as I worshiped her hard nub. Her hips started moving as I sucked, her sighs transforming into moans, loud and throaty.

"Oh, Grandpa!" she groaned. "Oh, yes! Oh, yes! I'm gonna cum! Oh, fuck, this is so much better than my fingers."

"I want to see you cum," Calypso panted. "Oh, shit, I'm gonna cum. Let's cum together, baby girl!"

"Yes, momma!" Liza moaned. "Oh, fuck! Oh, fucking yes!"

Calypso gasped, cumming on Alison's hungry lips, as Liza's orgasm seemed to explode through her. So much juice shot out of her pussy, I thought she was going to rocket right off the bed. Her enthusiasm seemed to set everyone else off; I heard Mary's beautiful cries of passion, and Desiree's rapture came out in her musical Spanish.

I kissed my way up my granddaughter's body, nipping her nipple, before I reached her lips and let her taste herself. "Umm, I taste wonderful," she giggled.

"Yes, you do, Liza," I told her, then kissed her a second time.

"Grandpa?" she asked, apprehension returning to her hazel eyes.

"Yeah?"

"Can I be on top?"

I smiled, and rolled us onto my back. Her light body pressed atop me, lithe as she wiggled about. My cock ached to bury into her. Deflowering virgins was something I lived for. Every day, a pretty virgin out in the world won the lotto and was brought to me, eager to have a God make a woman out of her.

Mary stretched out beside me, a flushed, satisfied smile on her face, then she bent over and gave me a brief kiss. "Go slow, Liza," she advised. "Don't just jam your pussy on his cock. Let yourself stretch and give."

"Yes, Grandma," Liza said. Mary wasn't technically her grandmother, but we had an unusual family.

Desiree slid on the other side of her, stroking Liza's leg. "You'll love his cock, mi Florecita."

"I know I will, Abuela." Liza answered, then bent down, and gave Desiree a passionate kiss.

Alison pressed up behind Desiree, nuzzling her wife's neck. "I'm horny, wanna make me cum?"

Desiree rolled over. "I always do, mi Sirenita."

"Oh, yes!" my mother moaned; Calypso had knelt before her, spreading her grandmother's thighs and burying her face between her legs. Marcelo knelt behind his wife, and buried his cock into Calypso's cunt; his eyes fixed on my mother's breasts.

I was lost watching my son and daughter fuck my mother, but Liza's pussy lips brushed my cock, bringing my attention back to her. Her weight slowly slid down my cock, engulfing me in warm, wet pleasure. She was tight the way only a virgin could be, her pussy stretching for the first time before a hard cock. She slid a few inches into her pussy, then stopped as I nudged her cherry.

She took a deep breath, "Here goes nothing." Then she relaxed her thighs, letting her weight pull her down on my cock. Her hymen gave, bending before my cock, and then it snapped. She gasped in pain as her weight drove her pussy all the way onto my cock.

"I told you to go slow," Mary said, sliding up behind the girl. She pressed her naked body against my granddaughter's back, kissing Liza's dusky shoulder. Mary's pale arms wrapped around the girl. One hand grasped an apple-sized breast, while the other stretched down to play with her clit.

Her cunt tightened on my cock as Mary's fingers found her little pearl. "Umm, Grandma, that feels nice."

Her hips started to move. "How's the pain?" Mary asked.

"It's vanishing," she purred, rising up and down. "Umm, and it's starting to feel absolutely wild!"

"Good." Mary licked her neck, up to her ear. "Move your hips, and lean forward or back. It'll change the way his cock slides into you. Find what feels best, then ride him hard, my little peach."

She leaned forward, rolling her hips, eyes widening. "Oh, wow! I see what you mean."

Mary ground her groin against my cute granddaughter's ass. "Give my horny stallion a good ride!"

"I will! The best ride!" Liza boasted.

She gave me a spirited ride, almost as good as my naughty filly's, but no-one was quite as good as Mary. Liza's cunt was a tight glove as she rode me. She turned her head to make out with my wife over her shoulder. Mary's fingers stroked her hard clit, giving Liza two hard cums. Her cunt spasmed delightfully on my cock each time, bringing my balls closer and closer to flooding her once virgin hole.

"Fuck, your pussy is tight!" I groaned. "You're about to get your first load!"

"Yes, Grandpa! Flood my cunt!"

Alison and Desiree, their faces sticky with each other's cum, watched eagerly. "Flood her filthy hole, Master!" Alison cheered.

"I'm going to lick your cum out of her pussy, mi Rey!"

"I want that, Abuela!" moaned Liza.

Every muscle in my body seemed to tense as she rode my cock. The friction sent my balls to boil, my entire body tensing as my release neared. With a grunt, I flooded my granddaughter's cunt. She slammed down on my cock, grinding her clit into my groin, and shuddered as another orgasm ripped through her body.

"Now you're a woman," Mary whispered in her ear.

Liza beamed and Desiree helped our granddaughter dismount my cock. True to her word, my Latina slut buried her face in Liza's messy cunt as my mother joined me on the bed. I fucked her doggy style, pounding her snatch, as she ate out Alison's cunt. The slut grinned at me, playing with her pierced nipples. I could just see her tattoo above my mother's head. "Cum on in," it read, with an arrow pointing down at her pussy. I remembered the first time I saw that tattoo in the Hot Topic store. Mary had been in the back, I think, trying on clothes, while I fucked around with Lillian and Alison in the front of the store, 'training them'.

I missed those days—things were simpler. Mary and I were just having fun, not a care in the world as we fucked whomever we wanted. We didn't have our family though. Our children and grandchildren and, one day, great-grandchildren. Family is what's important, and I loved to share these special times with them.

With a grunt, I flooded my mom's cunt. Her pussy convulsed about my cock before she collapsed on the tousled bed, spreading her legs wide for Liza. My granddaughter knelt down, and buried her face in my mom's pussy, taking a big swipe. I cast the Zimmah spell; energy flowed from mom into me and Liza, chaining her soul to mine. She shivered, grinned at me, then buried her tongue into my mom's pussy.

"What a delightful granddaughter I have," my mom groaned.

"Great-granddaughter," Liza corrected, an impish grin her on sticky face. An incestuous mix of cum and pussy juices dripped from her chin.

Mom grabbed her head and shoved her face back between her thighs. "You owe me at least two cums for saying that, Liza!"

"Yes, Great-Nana," came Liza's muffled answer.

My cock stirred. My wife laughed, gave my cock a few stokes, then knelt behind Liza. She spread the teen's asscheeks, revealing her puckered sphincter, and tongued her. Liza gave a squeal. My daughter Calypso nuzzled my crotch, and sucked my cock into her mouth as I watched my wife rim my granddaughter.

"She's ready," Mary smiled, Liza's asshole gleaming with spit.

"Do you mind, dad?" Marcelo asked.

"No," I laughed. "She's your daughter."

Marcelo mounted the bed, his hard cock nudging his daughter's ass. Liza gave another squeal as he forced his cock into her bowels. He fucked her slowly, leaning over her and grunting softly. Mary smiled, then giggled as Desiree and Alison launched a two front assault on her. Alison wiggled between my wife's thighs, while Desiree sucked on her tits.

Calypso's mouth popped off my cock. "You can fuck my ass, Daddy."

She knelt next to her daughter, wiggling her face down to share my mother's pussy. Liza's and Calypso's faces pressed together, lips kissing each other as much as they worship my mother's cunt. Calypso's fair ass, as perky as Alison's, wiggled at me, and I spread her open and plunged in.

Much later, Alison and Desiree, their children, and grandchild, retired to the sluts' bedroom to continue their celebration. I lay in bed; my wife pressed on one side, my mother on the other. Mary's hand idly played with my chest hair.

"How are things between you and Betty?" Mary asked my mom.

I could feel Mom tense; for the last few months I heard there was some friction between my mom and her wife. "Getting better," Mom answered. "She's almost forgiven me my indiscretion."

"It was only one village girl," Mary said dismissively. "Hardly worth her getting upset over. And those Latin women can be quite...feisty."

"Betty isn't as comfortable with an open relationship," my mom answered. "She doesn't mind if it's within the family, but she made it clear to me years ago that anything else is cheating." I saw hurt, self-loathing, and disgust flicker across my mom's face. "Maybe I'm just not cut out for monogamy. I cheated on your dad, and Maria was hardly the first village girl that found her way into my bed. I get weak sometimes, especially when we're apart."

"She knows that you love her, right?" I asked my mom.

"Of course she does," Mom sighed. "It'll sort itself out." She shifted, then casually asked, "And how is Chase doing?"

It was Mary's turn to stiffen.

"Well. She spent some time in a village on the Jordan, but her relationship with a local boy seems to have fallen apart. She walked south into Saudi Arabia, following the coast," I answered. "Quatch is keeping tabs on her since she's in his territory."

"Like that fat friend of yours is good for anything," Mary muttered, just loud enough for me to hear her.

"What was that, Mare?" I asked.

"Hmm?" She had a look of innocence on her face. "I didn't say anything, hun."

"Right, you..."

The golden power, the Gift, buried deep inside my soul for these last forty years, was torn away. I screamed in pain at the sudden loss, writhing on my bed as a piece of my being left a ragged, bleeding hole in my spirit. Mary's anguished cry barely penetrated the fog of pain. I collapsed back onto the bed, awash in agony that suffused my entire being.

And then it was gone. My breath came in ragged gasps. I felt a little more tired, a little sluggish, as I sat back up. My enhanced strength, my reflexes, my stamina, were gone. What just happened?

"Chereb!" I shouted, holding out my hand, expecting my Celestial blade to appear.

Nothing.

"What's wrong!" Mom gasped, staring at the two of us.

"What just happened, Mark?" Mary demanded, face ashen.

A faint red outlined her body. I swallowed, concentrating, and her aura sprang up red. Not the bronze of a Shaman, but the red of a Warlock. Her emerald eyes widened as she stared back at me.

"It's gone, Mark!" my wife sobbed. "Someone stole our Gift!"

A sinking feeling entered my stomach. What did that mean?

"I am completely baffled, sir," Sam replied an hour later as our inner circle met in the Matmown in the mansion's basement. It reeked of musk, and the air was thick with dust. We hadn't needed the Matmown since the Demon Wars ended. "I didn't think it was possible for the Gift to be stolen outside of the Ganubath ritual. And that didn't happen, right?"

"Definitely not," Mary snapped. "Someone's attacked us."

"Maybe we should reactivate the Legion, mi Rey," suggested Desiree, Secretary of War.

"They've been disbanded for twenty-five years," I sighed. "They're all into their fifties and sixties. The only combat-ready troops we have are the Bodyguards. And they only number three hundred." Thirty years of world peace had negated the need for soldiers, or even police officers. Everyone on the planet was under our command.

"We should warn the Districts," 51, Chief of the Guard, said. "I'll start recruiting more to the guard. We do have a class of fifty in training every year in case we have any losses from accident. We could easily do six classes a year. I'll have the guard doubled by this time next year."

"Do it," Mary said.

"Let's reactivate the Legion," Alison added. "We can use them to train fresh soldiers.."

"How are we going to arm them?" Jacob, Secretary of the Treasury, asked.

Rachel, one of his wives, sat next to him and nodded her support. "We mothballed most military hardware decades ago, letting the materials be used for the restoration. There's, what, a plant that manufactures small arms for the bodyguards? That's it."

"And there's the matter of transporting so many troops," Leah—Jacob's second wife, and our Secretary of Transportation—said. "Our fleet of airplanes is not large enough to mobilize entire armies. And Boeing only has one manufacturing line anymore. It would take years to ramp up production to more than a few airplanes a year."

"There are boats," my son Silas, Assistant Secretary of Transportation, pointed out. "We have plenty of freighters."

"Those are slow," Leah countered. "If we need to move troops rapidly, that will not be good enough."

"Master can make Portals," Lillian, Secretary of Energy, stated. "And so can Mistress. We used them during the Demon Wars."

"For small troop movements," I said. "It takes too much time to move more than a battalion through Portals."

"We're forgetting one thing, Mark," Mary whispered. "The Gift. You can't use the Ragily prayer any longer. Do you even have the Legion's loyalty anymore?"

My stomach sank; she's right. "We can't afford to arm anyone not bound by the Zimmah ritual. Anyone else could be turned by a nun."

"Then we must be vigilant, Master," Violet, Secretary of Agriculture, declared after a moment of silence. "We should let the clergy be our eyes and ears. There is a church with a priest or priestess in every community. We should rely on them to inform us if anything unusual happens. Otherwise, we may be jumping at smoke."

Violet's wife, Cindy, nodded in agreement.

"Violet's right, Master," Jessica threw in. "We have the entire world on our side. Even untrained, that is a lot of manpower we could hurl at the situation."

"That's a little cold, Jessica," Korina, Secretary of Education, objected. "We can't just throw defenseless men and women at the problem."

"No, we can't," Mary firmly said.

*In an emergency?* I asked my wife telepathically. We strove never to contradict each other's commands in public. In the first few years of our marriage, that had caused a small amount of friction.

Her eyes found mine. *Perhaps in an emergency.*

"That will only be a last resort," I stated. Mary gave an agreeing nod.

"Maybe we should summon Karen?" Sam asked.

"It will have to be the old way," I told her. "Without the Gift, I can't summon all the ghosts to fight for me."

A grimace flickered across Sam's face. "Maybe you should do it, sir. You are stronger than us. Last time I did it..." She shuddered, and Candy patted her hand.

Unfortunately, Karen was equally baffled. All she could say was, "My sight has been obscured in this matter. Heavenly forces move once more, Master."

June 6th, 2054 – Mark Glassner

It was after midnight when I stepped through the portal into the mansion. I had just left Paris. My little sister, Antsy, who administered Europe with Via, her wife, had captured a few agitators. The last few weeks, a strain had cracked across the Theocracy. People were snapping out of our control, questioning our authority, and trying to lure people to gatherings.

It was worrisome. It seemed a few Nuns were roaming the world, freeing Thralls. 51 had delivered on her promise, and had doubled the bodyguard. But six hundred wasn't enough to police the world. And they were spread thin, a compliment protecting each of the fourteen Administrative Districts, protecting my Governors as well as the local Bishops who shepherded the faithful. Twenty-eight different places to guard, in addition to our Mansion and the Cathedral, the ecclesiastical center of the Church.

"My Lord," Pearl bowed as I entered the mansion.

Pearl had been the Chief Maid since we had founded them forty years ago. Her charges curtsied as they welcomed me home. One took my jacket, damp with rain, while a second handed me a warm cup of tea. I admired all my maids' practically exposed breasts beneath their transparent blouses, and fondled a pair, as I drank my tea. It warmed me up; Paris had been miserable, a fierce thunderstorm drenching the city.

"Where's my wife?"

"Your bedroom, my Lord," Pearl answered. "She was still up the last I knew."

I handed the cup to Pearl, and strode through the mansion. The bodyguards that accompanied me to Paris all headed off to their barracks. One of them kissed a maid, her wife, with some passion, pulling the maid along with her.

A pair of bodyguards stood at attention flanking our suite's door. They saluted; I gave them each a grope, bringing a smile to their faces, and went inside. A pair of maids leapt to their feet, curtsying, then helped strip me out of my wet clothes. I gave each a kiss and squeezed their naked asses, before opening the door to our bedroom.

"I thought you'd be asleep, Mare," I said when I found her reading a book; one of the Twilight novels. I never understood how she could read that insipid trash over and over.

"I couldn't sleep after returning from Honolulu," Mary sighed. "While I was meeting with Alice and her husband, the bodyguards found ten of these...agitators. A Nun has definitely gotten her hands on them."

I crawled into bed with Mary. I still had mixed feelings about Alice, even if it wasn't entirely her fault for shooting me. And she had tried to get Mary to break-up with me. Well, I didn't have to like my wife's friends, even if one of them ruled Oceania for us.

I gave my wife a kiss and she snuggled up against me, her naked breast and hard nipple pressing against my muscular chest. "There's definitely more than one Nun," I told her. "The three agitators my sister caught were all exorcised from our control. And yet they resisted my power. Some new prayer is protecting them from my wish."

"The same in Honolulu. So at least two nuns are out there," Mary sighed. "One in Paris, and one in Hawaii. And that's assuming one of them is Tina. Maybe Doug gave his gift to a woman?"

"I doubt Doug would let a woman murder him just to add one more nun into the world," I pointed out.

"Right," Mary nodded. "That stupid 'forgive your killer' clause the monks have. That still doesn't make sense to me."

When a Monk's killed, he can choose to give his Gift to his killer. It's the only way they can pass on their powers. It seemed ridiculous; how do you forgive your killer? That seems like the hardest thing in the universe to do.

"Anyway, I think I know what happened last year," I told her. "The Gift was returned, and then given to new people. It was given once, it stands to reason it could be given again."

"Have you been talking to Sam?" Mary asked, eying me suspiciously.

"Nope. I came up with this all on my own."

"Sure," she nodded.

"I did," I protested.

"Fine. You figured this out all on your own. I believe you," she giggled, then sighed and frowned. "Well, that would explain where these nuns are coming from. But how did they do it?"

"Well, Doug and Tina have the original copy of the Magicks of the Witch of Endor, right?"

"I believe that's what Maryam told me. It has been forty years, but I think that's what she said." Mary shifted. "That would mean there's, what, one-hundred-and-forty-four new Monks and Nuns out there."

"So why did they choose now to come crawling out of the rocks," I groused. "What happened last year to change the status quo?"

Mary gave me a kiss, rubbing her body against me. "We can worry about that tomorrow. You do remember what today is?"

"What?" I asked, struggling to think.

"Why am I not surprised." Mary rolled her eyes. "We met forty-one years ago, today. You made your Pact, then walked into my Starbucks and swept me off my feet."

I smiled. "You were so beautiful as you stood trembling before me. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I never read that book I found in the library. Would we even have met?"

"Yes," Mary declared. "We're soulmates. I talked to Azrael about that, years and years ago. Surely I told you?"

It was my turn to shake my head.

She gave me a look. "Are you getting senile in your old age? I'm sure I told you."

"Sorry."

"Well, it was during the Baal-zebub campaign," she shrugged. "I seem to recall that was pretty hectic."

That was an understatement. Baal-zebub had retreated from his stronghold in Austria to Switzerland. It had been such a mess to break through those passes. I could still remember leading troops through Gotthard Pass, and the bloodbath at the Devil's Bridge. Alison had broken the tide that day, leading her commandos up the cliff face without any climbing gear.

"Anyway, Azrael told me that Lucifer nudged you into summoning him, and that caused you to meet me a few weeks earlier. Apparently, I was going to catch my boyfriend cheating on me and then I'd bump into you and it all would have fallen into place." She sighed. "I bet Chase wouldn't have walked away if we were just normal people."

Mary was right; if we were normal, Chase would never have run off. Too late for that now. We were in too deep. If we freed the world, they would be howling for our blood. Mary and I had worked too long and too hard to escape Hell, we weren't about to lose it all now. Sure, I was immortal, but Mary could still be killed. She only was young and healthy as long as I was alive, but that wouldn't save her from getting shot in the head.

I kissed my wife as we shared our grief. I pulled her atop me; her lithe body writhed atop me as we kissed, her perky breasts rubbing against my muscular chest. My hands slid down her supple back, down to her plump ass, and gave her cheeks a squeeze. My cock was iron hard, pinned between our stomachs. Our kiss grew more and more passionate.

"After forty-one years, you still excite me," I told her, stroking her auburn hair.

She smiled, her cheeks cutely dimpled, and said, "Feel how wet I am for you."

Her pussy was a faucet, drenching my hand in her sweet, spicy juices. Her hands found my hard cock; her hips rose up, and she engulfed me. I was sliding into my wife's pussy, the place I loved to be. The best place in the world—inside my love. I cupped her left breast with my hand, enjoying the perky firmness as she slowly rose up my cock. I thumbed her nipples as she slid home; a soft sigh escaped her lips.

"My horny stallion," she whispered, pressing her forehead against mine, her green eyes staring down with love.

"My naughty filly," I whispered back, then grasped an auburn lock, pulling her face to mine, and kissed her tenderly as she slowly made love to me.

I let go of the stress of today, the uncertainty of our new foe, and the questions that churned inside of me. I let it all go until only my wife, and our fervent embrace, remained. I caressed her body, stoking her passions, while her pussy stoked mine. I kissed her fingers, sucked her nipples, and nuzzled at her neck, while her hips rose faster, adding twists and pivots that slid my cock through the silk of her sheath.

"Oh, Mare," I groaned. "My sweet, beautiful filly. Cum for me! Let me feel your passion."

"Yes, yes!" she panted as I stroked her thigh, feeling her toned muscles lift and lower her pussy on me. I thrust up to meet her, bouncing her up and watching her breasts rise and fall, her dusky nipples dancing through the air, a beautiful ballet. "Oh, Mark! Oh, my stallion!"

The ripples of her sheath on my sword were exquisite. The pleasure of her orgasm milked my cock, sending rapture surging through me. I clenched my teeth, driving up one last time into her sweet embrace, and spilled my love into her. Three large blasts of ecstasy.

"I love you," she whispered, cuddling on my chest, my half-hard cock buried in her cunt.

I stroked her hair, kissed her forehead. "With all my heart, Mare."

Mary's breath grew shallow as she drifted off to sleep in my arms. I held her, enjoying the feel of her chest rising and falling, the warmth of her breath, of her body, on my chest, and the beat of her heart pounding in rhythm with mine. My eyes were heavy. I let them close, feeling safe in the embrace of my wife. We'd face this new problem together.

Like we always had.

Chase Glassner

I flashed into the cafeteria on a beam of pure light. Doug and Tina awaited, along with hundreds of men and women that had been freed from my parents' tyranny. Around the world, seventy-one other pairs of Nuns and Monks had gathered similar groups, poised to lead their hundreds against the apparatus of my parents' rule.

Today, we would free mankind.

Today, I would die with my parents.

For the last year we had prepared slowly. Each Nun exorcising clusters of Thralls in small communities, careful and cautious, while I coordinated everything. Holding onto all those one-hundred and forty-four gifts, if only briefly, had changed me. I could see the Light, and travel upon the heavenly rays like the Angels. When I spoke, people listened, and were swayed by my new-found eloquence, understanding me in their native tongues. I would speak English, but a Spaniard would hear Spanish; a Filipino, Tagalog; an Egyptian, Arabic. My words would protect them, armoring them against my parents' words. A few had been captured, sadly, and hopefully they would hold out against torture.

We had thousands free ready around the world to attack all the centers of the Theocracy's powers. It wasn't enough just to kill my parents if the bureaucrats and priests remained behind ready to continue to rule in their names. We had to have something to offer in their place, or we were just condemning the world to anarchy.

I would be with Doug and his group as they attacked. I knew my parents and their security drills. They'd activate the shield and evacuate the mansion on the lawn. They'd be in the open and I would have my opportunity before they fled to whatever bolt-hole they decided and then things would be far more difficult.

"I've spoken to all the rest," I told Doug, glancing at my watch. Flashing seventy-two times in just a short time was tiring, but the adrenaline pumping through my veins was helping to mask my weariness. "They will start their marches in seven minutes."

Doug nodded, and summoned his golden armor. My father once had armor like that. He had been so magnificent when I had watched him duel Ashtoreth on the mansion lawn so many years ago. I had thought he was a hero. But I grew up, and, like all children, learned my parents were only flawed humans.

My hand shook, and I turned my back on Doug, walking to the window. I looked up South Hill at the concrete wall that segregated the Theocracy's Capital from its slaves. In a few minutes, five groups of armed, free Thralls would start marching on the seat of my parents' power, attacking it from all sides. Guns were checked as our followers readied themselves for battle, eager to take back their Liberty.

The blood of Patriots and Tyrants...

Mark Glassner

Mary and I awoke to frantic knocks at our door.

"Sir!" 51 shouted, bursting in. She had dressed hastily, her blouse buttoned up wrong. "The Theocracy is under attack!"

"What?" I asked, sleepily. Mary stirred on my chest, sitting up.

"There are five armed groups attacking the perimeter. They number in the hundreds!"

"Shit!" I muttered. Hundreds? Those fucking nuns had been busy! "Pull back the guard! Sixty-four can't possibly hold against that many!"

"Yes, sir!" she saluted, her ebony face fierce and beautiful.

Mary stood up as maids scurried in with clothing. We hurriedly dressed, pulling on the black, utilitarian clothing we hadn't worn in thirty years. My heart raced; I hadn't felt adrenaline coursing so violently through my system since that day when the last Demon attacked the mansion. I had dueled Ashteroth just outside on the mansion's lawn and beheaded the bitch. April and Xiu had died that day.

My anger rose. We had grown lax. Thirty years of peace had made us complacent. This time we'll account for every last nun and priest. I'll set the entire world to hunt them down!

After pulling on black fatigues, I strapped on body armor. I missed my Celestial armor, and I had never fought in the enchanted vest before. Lastly I pulled on my bronze amulet, tucking it beneath the vest. Mary was dressed identically, sheathing a 9mm handgun while a maid tied her auburn hair back.

"Maids, take shelter in the basement," I ordered, then we rushed out to the security room.

Alison and Desiree were waiting for us, hastily dressed in black fatigues. Excitement burned in Alison's face; she had always been so reckless during the Demon Wars. On the banks of security cameras was footage of the outer walls breached, and hordes of men and women pouring in, all carrying various automatic weapons.

"Where the fuck did they get those?" Mary demanded.

Alison shrugged. "Some cache a paranoid dictator buried during the troubles. Does it really matter, Mistress?"

"Sir, we're getting reports from across the globe," a seemingly young Japanese communication officer said. Her name was Ami, a former Air Force officer that served us from before Lucifer was defeated. "Nine of the Administrative districts report they're under attack."

I swallowed, feeling cold. Nine of fourteen. "Which ones?"

She opened her mouth to answer, then paused, listening into her headset. "Sir, Washington D.C.'s about to fall. Sean and Tiffany have barricaded themselves in their bedroom with the last two of their guards."

"Central America?" I asked, fear clenching my stomach. My mother ruled from Mexico City.

"They haven't responded," Roni, another former Air Force officer, answered. "I'm sorry, sir. Paris is reporting an armed mob attacking them, and there was a brief message from Tokyo."

"We should retreat to the bunker," Mary whispered, her face pale. Both of our parents were in trouble. And our sisters. Shit.

"Bunker?" I asked, my mind struggling to work as my fear was growing into white-hot anger. My mom and sister were in danger! These filthy vermin thought to hurt my family?

"The missile silo," Mary answered. I hadn't thought of our bolt-hole in Oklahoma in decades. I was pretty sure we still had it maintained. Those SWAT officers were stationed there with their families. "There's no way they can know about it, Mark."

Sam entered the room. "Sir, I've triggered the mansion's shield. I predict it will last fifteen minutes under the volume of fire."

"Fuck that! I'm going out there and fighting them," I barked. "I'm immortal. They can't hurt me! Even if they empty every fucking bullet they have into me I'll keep on going!"

"You'd be swarmed under and captured," Mary objected.

"I have the power to do it. I'll open the ground beneath their feet, summon the winds to batter them, and cook them with fire! I am Mark Glassner, and I'll show them why you don't fuck with a living God!"

"It's too risky. We don't know enough, Mark."

"I can crush them like the insects they are!" Molech's flames danced on my skin and Milcom's lightning crackled between my fingers. "I'll send the vermin scurrying back to their holes while you evacuate the mansion."

She grabbed my arm. "We don't have enough information. What if there are more? We need to regroup and figure out what's going on!"

"Fuck!" I snarled. Her hand was soft on my hand, calm. She was always too cautious, but she was usually right. "We evacuate to the bunker."

My anger died to a cold simmer. The gall of these Monks and Nuns to challenge us. Once we've regrouped, I'll make them realize the error of their mistake. I'll enjoy crushing them beneath my boot.

"We'll make them pay," she whispered, her hand stroking my arm. "They'll suffer for every member of our family they've hurt."

We walked outside, the blue shield shimmering in a dome around the mansion. Five gold columns blazed like the sun, powering the spell. Only our most trusted servants and our family could walk through the shield, anyone else would be rebuffed. Outside, the mob beat at it, shot at it, and hurled whatever objects they could at it. Every impact sent ripples of blue spreading across the shield and dimmed the golden columns by a fraction, reducing the energy sustaining it. Eventually it would fail, and they would pour in like water rushing through a breeched dam.

"The maids are assembled, my Lord," Pearl stated, standing before the ranks of her girls. They all looked scared.

My sons and daughters, and their children, huddled nearby. Silas had Delilah and Andrea clinging to him, and Marcelo and Calypso hugged their daughter Liza. The sluts stood in a nervous clump, Violet hugging Cindy, Jessica trying to stay calm as Korina trembled in Lillian's arms. Thirty bodyguards were spread out in a circle around us, watching the shield. 51 nodded to me, then gave a worried glance at her husband. Even she was afraid, and she had survived Brandon, the Patriots, and been through the worst of the Demon Wars.

Alison strode out of the mansion. "Master, the mansion's been evacuated, and I've destroyed the computers."

Anger burned inside me; I would destroy those fucking nuns and monks and spike their heads as a warning to future generations. "Then let's go," I snarled, and drew a bronze dagger, prepared to cut a hole in the air, creating a Portal to the Shadows.

Light flashed down from the heavens, pure white, blinding, connecting earth and sky for one brief moment, and then it flashed back up. Where the light had fallen on the lawn stood a person

Chase.

I heard Mary gasp, a sharp intake of breath. The bronze dagger tumbled out of my hand. It was Chase, my beautiful daughter, her blue eyes fixed on me, a sad smile on her freckled face. Her auburn hair fell loosely about her shoulders, swaying in the gentle breeze. I drank in the sight of her. Hope, happiness, joy, filled me up.

My beautiful daughter had come home.

I didn't remember crossing the distance between us. One moment I was staring in amazement at her, the next she was just before me. I must have run to cross the distance so fast. I threw my arms around her, crushing her against my chest. She was wonderful, real, alive, beautiful.

I didn't see the ugly dagger clutched in her hand.

The pain was sharp as it sliced into my thigh. "I'm sorry, Daddy," she whispered.

I stumbled back, the small cut burning with venomous agony. The fire spread through my veins; every beat of my heart spreading the pain. Dizziness swept through me; my legs wobbled. I stared at my daughter in astonishment; her blue eyes were full of sorrow.

"Mark!" my wife shouted as my leg buckled. I collapsed onto my back. The blue sky was above me—a perfect, beautiful sky. I had seen its like once before, so very long ago.

Mary knelt beside me, her crying face above me, an even more beautiful sight. Her hand grasped mine, bringing it up to her face. She gently kissed my knuckles, then red light engulfed me. Pain still burned through me; her healing spell failed. Everything was starting to grow dark; my vision grew fuzzy as the pain burned through my veins, drawing closer and closer to my heart.

This has happened before. And Lilith wasn't going to save me this time.

"Mispachs!" Candy shouted. "Hurry, we need to kill her and spill her blood on him before he dies!"

The dagger of Cain. The only way to save me was for Chase to die. And when I died, my beautiful Mary would, too. I had once condemned the world to darkness to save my wife. I would do anything to protect her, to save her. I thought I could kill anyone to keep my wife alive.

I was wrong.

"No," I croaked. Mary nodded, tears glistening in her eyes.

"Do not touch our daughter!" my wife commanded with steel in her voice.

"We all die when he does!" Candy objected. "If none of you will kill the bitch, then I'll..."

"You will do nothing!" 51 roared. I could hear a scuffle, a woman screaming in pain. A gun barked, and Sam gave a muffled cry of anguish.

Chase knelt on the other side of me, her blue eyes swimming with tears. "I'm so sorry, Daddy," she cried. "It had to be done. Your tyranny had to be stopped. I couldn't take the chance that you wouldn't listen."

I looked from my wife to my daughter as agony pumped through my veins. She was as beautiful as her mother. Chase hesitantly reached out to grasp our hands. They were soft, warm, as we three held each other. I struggled to speak; there was something very important I had to tell my daughter.

"I forgive you."

Turned out it wasn't hard to do at all.

Chase Glassner

The life went out of Father's blue eyes.

Mother slumped limply forward across his chest. Around me, my siblings, the sluts, the maids, and the bodyguards all fell dead. I killed them all. Tears ran hot down my cheeks. Hundreds just died from a single knife stroke. Was I as bad as my parents? Were my murders as justified as theirs?

I didn't know.

Hundreds dead so that billions could be free. That math had to add up, right?

Silver glinted on my father's chest. The sun was warm on my face; it was too lovely a day for such tragedy. The silver was a locket, shaped like a heart, a single, pink rose sculpted on the front. It must have spilled out from beneath Mother's armor as she fell forward, landing upon Father. I grabbed and opened the locket; my parents smiled up at me. With shaking hands, I unclasped it from my mother's neck, and draped it around my own.

I realized I wasn't alone. The shield had failed; those that were attacking the compound had gathered in a circle to stare down at the False Gods, the Tyrants—my parents. Around the world, the elements of my parents oppression, those bureaucrats and priests not bound directly to my parents, were being captured or killed. The Theocracy was being erased. Hopefully, a better government would rise from the ashes.

I silently walked away, the crowd parting before me. I could have ridden on the Light, flashing to wherever I wanted to go. Wherever that was. I needed to walk, to think, to wonder why I didn't die with all my family, with my parents. I was bound to them. I shouldn't have lived.

I wasn't supposed to live.

Now I had to live with the question: could I have talked my parents into giving it all up? To free mankind from their bondage? I don't know. I just knew that I couldn't take the risk that they would say no. I had this one opportunity to end it, to liberate the world. I had to take it, and now all I could do was walk, cursed like the shoemaker to wander on and on forever, guilt tearing apart my heart.

Hopefully, the world was worth it.

Mark Glassner

I was falling, falling, falling.

Into Darkness.

Then Darkness gave way to heat, to fire.

I opened my eyes. Oppressive heat buffeted my body and blood-red rocks crunched at my feet. Anguished wails echoed through the air—the chorus of the damned. I stood on a rocky hill, overlooking a hellish plain and a city of brass. Trees made of twisted bone dotted the plain, growing next to rifts that smoked sulfurous fumes.

Mary appeared at my side. I wrapped my arms around my wife. "Together forever," she whispered.

A collar bound my neck, made of red, pitted iron, leading off into the distance—my Pact with Lucifer. The iron was weak, pitted; it snapped easily. I had far more power than the Devil ever had. I had stolen the power of every Demon—Lucifer, Lilith, Molech, Dagon, and more—I had slain, the energy split between Mary and myself. Mary reached up and easily snapped her chain, the iron flaking away into rust on the searing wind.

More souls appeared. Chasity and Noel knelt before me, joined by 51, while the bodyguards knelt in ranks behind them. "We've awaited you for a while, Master," Chasity said, smiling, her blue eyes twinkling with joy.

Karen threw her arms around me, kissing my cheek. Then April, glasses reflecting the hellish landscape, melted against me. And lastly Xiu sauntered up, naked; I pulled her to me by her nipple piercing. "I missed you all," I told the three of them. "You were never forgotten."

"Thank you, Master," Xiu smiled, tears shining in her eyes. "We swore to serve you forever."

The other sluts joined us: Lillian, Korina, Violet, Jessica, Alison, and Desiree. Korina reunited with Xiu, hugging her enthusiastically. Alison and Desiree gazed into each other's eyes with love. Our families were next: my mom and her wife, Tiffany and Sean, Missy and Damien, Shannon and George, Antsy and Via. Their children and ours. Pearl and her maids, our other servants, the Cunningham twins and their Bishops, and our friends who helped us rule the Theocracy. Around us, reunions happened as those that had passed on before us were reunited with friends, family, and lovers.

The only one missing was Chase. I concentrated, and I could sense my daughter walking away from the mansion, crushed by her guilt. Anger flashed through me—I had failed her. I hadn't been a good enough father to her. I was too concerned with escaping Hell, of making sure that there were no threats that could harm me or my loved ones. Mary and I shackled the entire world out of selfishness. Chase is a better person than I ever was. I hoped one day I could tell her that; then, maybe, we could be a family again.

*We will* Mary's voice whispered in my mind. *She just needs time. And we have all the time in the universe now.*

"What are your commands, Master?" Violet asked, her arm around Cindy.

"We're ready to kick some ass!" shouted an eager Alison. Somehow, she had conjured a machine gun, red flames flickering across the black metal.

I could see the lesser demons and the shades of the dead hovering at the edges of our group, watching us warily. Beyond them lay the city of brass. Dis. I glanced at my wife, gave her shoulder a squeeze, then looked at our family and followers. For a moment, black chains flashed around all their necks, connecting them to Mary and myself.

I grinned, "Well, I've heard it said that it's better to rule in Hell."

To be concluded...

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The Devil's Pact Epilogue: A Thousand Years

mypenname3000

Fantasy, Non-Erotic

Introduction:

A young man makes a Pact.

Epilogue: One Thousand Years

My heart was filled with despair. The Living Gods were dead. All I could do was stare blankly at the wall, my mind full of ash. They had reshaped the world, and now They were gone. What were we to do? Who would look after us and protect us? Already heretics had arisen, decrying Them as false, and putting to torch Their churches and temples. And then They appeared in my dreams. "Have faith," He spoke, His voice booming like a thousand trumpets. "We are not gone. It was time for us to leave this world, departing for a better one. But we still watch you, we still love you, and all you have to do is call upon us and we shall answer." I made my Pact that very night.

–The Epistle of Isabel to the Faithful 1:1-3

I stood trembling at the crossroads, waiting.

Ever since I found a forbidden copy of the Glassnerian Gospels in my grandpa's chest, and read the Epistle of Isabel, I had been filled with a foolish desire to summon the Tyrants. The Epistle claimed it was easy. Take a box, place a lock of your hair, a lavender flower, and the foot of a white rabbit in it, then bury the box at the center of a crossroads at midnight. Supposedly, the Tyrants of Hell, the Living Gods, would appear, and they would grant three wishes in exchange for your soul.

Despite the Church, copies of the Glassnerian Bible still floated about. And I couldn't resist reading the copy I found when sorting through my grandfather's house. Who knew the old coot was a heretic? The account of the Tyrants was so different from the Histories; not brutal dictators who enslaved mankind, but loving Gods that valiantly fought against the Demons and tried to create a Utopia before being murdered by Saint Chasity.

I shivered as I waited. It was spring, but the nights were still cold. It seeped into my body as doubts crept into my mind; nothing was going to happen. This wasn't going to work—the Tyrants were just a myth. Nothing more than history that had been distorted by a thousand years of embellishment by storytellers and priests, or by mothers trying to frighten their children into behaving.

I knew all the stories, relishing them as a child: the Tyrants, Mark and Mary, who could enslave you with a single word, and who commanded the forces of nature itself; silver-tongued Alison and her demonic wife Desiree, who could suck out your soul with her kiss; April, with her eyes made of glass that would freeze a man solid if he ever caught her deadly gaze; Violet, who strangled men with the two serpents that grew out of her hair; siren Korina, whose doll-faced innocence lured men to their deaths; and their demonic Guard, a horde of vicious women led by the icy Chasity. If I wasn't so desperate for a better life, for someone to pay attention to me, I would never have even tried this foolishness.

If I wasn't so desperate for Elisbetta.

Feeling foolish, I turned to leave. Nothing would happen; it was just a myth that you could sell your soul to the Tyrants for three wishes. The moonlight dimmed, and I glanced up, expecting to see a dark cloud pass across its white, pockmarked face. Other legends claimed men had walked across the moon, crossing the dark void. What complete—

"Hello, Ysaak," a man said.

I started, turning around. Two figures stood in the center of the crossroads. I hadn't heard anyone approach, no footsteps crunching on the gravel or the rustle of brush. And the road had been empty a moment ago. One was a tall man, with dark brown hair, blue eyes shining in the moonlight. His arm was wrapped around a woman, who clung to his muscular frame. My breath caught—she was gorgeous—dark-red hair framed a heart-shaped, freckled face, green eyes twinkled with mirth, and a low-cut dress revealed an immodest swath of creamy bosom.

Sweat broke across my entire body. The Tyrants of Hell stood before me, and they seemed so...normal. Where was the fire and the brimstone? There wasn't even a chorus of the damned. I was almost disappointed...except there was something in their eyes. An ancient, powerful, and inhuman presence that battered against my soul. These beings were as beyond me as I was beyond an ant. I swallowed, taking a step back.

"You don't have to be scared," the woman purred. "You summoned us, after all."

"I want to sell my soul for three wishes," I said, trying not to let my voice crack. My heart thudded like a woodpecker against a tree.

The man smiled, and looked at the woman. "Of course. My wife and I are more than happy to make a Pact with you."

The End

Author Note: I hope you all enjoyed the Devil's Pact. It was quite a rollercoaster ride for me writing it. There are still more Side-Story to tell in the Devil's Pact universe, as well as a new story to tell: The Battered Lamp. It's a harem story about a young man that finds a genie and his life gets turned upside down. It will start being published in a few weeks. Thank you all for reading and take care.