Feature Writer: mypenname3000
Feature Title: THE DEVIL’S PACT 8.1
Published: 22.02.22
Story Codes: Demonic
Synopsis: Sister Louise is closing in on Mark and Mary
The Devil’s Pact 8.1
Chapter One
The Tyrants’ control built slowly. Bit by bit, men and women fell under their power. They were a cancer in the heart of the world. But hope still burned that their evil could be cured. On June 10th, 2013, Sister Louise Afra prepared to cleanse the world of the Tyrants’ taint. — excerpt from The History of the Tyrants’ Theocracy, by Tina Allard
Monday, June 10th, 2013 — Sister Louise Afra — South Hill, WA
There was a soft knock at the door, bursting the bubble of my dream. “Good morning, Louise,” Madeleine greeted, her voice muffled through the door. “Breakfast is ready.”
“Okay,” I groggily said and rolled out of bed, stretching my limbs.
I had been dreaming about being Susanne’s slave again. It was a common dream. It played out in minute variants: sometimes I would be forced to be her slave, others I would crawl on my knees and beg to be hers. A few times, Susanne would be my slave, crawling before me.
Regret stabbed through me. What would my life have been like if I had not been dominated by Susanne? Would I have married Ryan? Would I have had children and watched them proudly grow up? A Warlock steals more than your life when you’re dominated, he steals your dreams. Mark had already done irreparable damage to the lives of those he encountered. I needed to stop him before he destroyed more.
That was my job as a nun of the Order of Mary Magdalene.
My body was sore from spending most of yesterday in a car watching the Fitzsimmons house. I was gathering intelligence, as the military would say. I had only left the care for the twenty minutes it took to put Alison and Desiree under the Prayer of Zanah, turning the women into my weapons to use against Mark. Then it was back to my car to watch.
And wait.
Near 8 PM, Mark returned with a car full of naked women. There were five of them, all clearly Thralls of Mark. It was a setback. The best way to deal with a Warlock, particularly a male Warlock, was to seduce him, or let him think he was seducing you. But I had found it was more satisfying to turn a Warlock’s Thralls against him. The prick deserved a little comeuppance. But five more Thralls would make that vastly harder. I would need to get the odds back in my favor before I could make my move.
And if Mark kept adding to his harem, this could drag on for a while.
Maybe I should go the easy route and let Mark seduce me. It wouldn’t be hard. Although I was fifty-one, I appeared as an attractive eighteen year old. I had the perky tits and tight ass of a teenager, one of the Gifts the Creator had granted me to fight Evil. I could let Mark seduce me, but that was too good for him. He deserved to be humiliated, to know fear. To know that when he came in my pussy that would be the end of all his fun! I had dealt with far worse Warlocks in the last thirty-years.
Mark would not stand a chance.
Lord, I prayed silently, grant me the strength to save these women, grant me the courage to face this challenge, and grant me the guidance to see it quickly ended. In the name of the Father, the Son, and Holy Spirit, Amen!
I felt better after praying and dressed.
After breakfast, I would sit here in Madeleine’s house and watch the Warlock. I would wait for my opening. Last night, thanks to God’s Providence, Madeleine had offered me a place to stay. I was parked on the street in front of her house when she walked up to the car with two cups of tea and asked if I needed to talk. Sensing God’s Providence, I said the first story that popped into my head.
“I think my husband’s shacked up with Desiree,” I had told her last night. “I want proof. I flew all the way out from Chicago to find it.”
Madeleine had a good heart and offered to let me to stay in her guest bedroom.
“There’s a good view of that hussy’s house from my breakfast nook,” Madeleine had told me in a sexy, southern twang. “Doesn’t that sound better than sittin’ in your car, sugar?”
I left the guest bedroom after dressing in a white skirt and red blouse, and headed for the kitchen. Madeleine was pouring a thermos of coffee. I paused to admire her fine rump beneath her business skirt. She was a fit looking, thirty-something, recently divorced and ready for love. She had made a simple breakfast for me–yogurt sprinkled with granola–and left it sitting next to a fresh pot of coffee.
“Sorry I couldn’t rustle you up a proper breakfast, but I got to skedaddle to work,” she apologized, her southern twang melting my cunt.
“That’s all right,” I smiled, giving her a friendly hug. “And thanks again for letting me stay.”
“No problem, sugar. You can stay as long as you need to. My husband was a no-good horndog, too. That’s why I kicked his ass to the curb.”
She gave me a comforting hug and kissed my forehead–I wished she kissed my lips instead–and headed out the door. She was off to her office job in a respectable looking skirt and blouse. I sighed in regret, watching that fine ass sway out of the kitchen. It was a shame she was straight. I gave her some subtle signs last night, but she didn’t bite or even realize that I was flirting with her.
I missed staying with Sarai–the sexy flight attendant I had spent a passionate two days with–already, but I would persevere.
I looked out the window in time to see the Warlock, Mark jog by, naked save for a pair of running shoes. I winced. He was a slightly overweight man, his fat jiggling as he ran. He must have wished for some powerful mind control to be so confident in jogging naked. I angrily stabbed at my yogurt with a spoon.
You won’t be so confident for long, prick!
Mark Glassner
I was exhausted by riding high from the exertion when I returned from my jog and my romp with Anastasia, a delightful woman I met jogging. She lived across the street from the house I took from Brandon Fitzsimmons. Her pussy had felt wonderful on my cock.
When I awoke this morning, I decided I needed to get in better shape for Mary. She was such a beautiful creature. She deserved a man that at least tried to not be an overweight slob. After yesterday’s naked walk through the hotel and drive back to South Hill, I discovered I liked the freedom of going nude.
So I set off jogging, my dick flapping in the wind.
It was an interesting experience. I was stopped three times by Puyallup Police officers and once by a Pierce County Sheriff deputy. I had thought long and hard how I wanted to handle the police, so I was ready. I gave each cop two simple orders: “I am Mark Glassner and whatever I am doing is perfectly legal. Anyone who approaches you and says ‘I serve Mark Glassner’ or ‘I am Mary Sullivan,’ do what they say without question.” Each cop would then apologize for bothering me, walk back to their cars, and drive off.
I loved my powers. I could do anything.
On my jog, passing cars honked at me and insults were hurled as they sped by. I didn’t mind. They were lesser men and women, mere ants cursing their betters. Other joggers would cross the street or bolt the other way while pulling out cell phones to call 911 on me. I did catch up to one pretty woman in her late twenties, with a round ass covered in tight, black leggings and a pink, Lycra tank top that fit her like a second skin.
Anastasia.
I invited her to join the Naked Jogging Club. She was more than happy to be the first recruit. Needless to say, jogging was a lot easier when I had a woman’s beautiful, naked ass jiggling and bouncing in front of me. When we reached her house, I fucked Anastasia in the kitchen while her husband showered upstairs.
What a delightful thrill that had been.
When I walked into my house, Desiree was leading the sluts and Mary in some type of aerobics in the living room. I admired their naked bodies, covered in a sheen of sweat, jiggling and wiggling.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
Mary flashed me a smile, her auburn hair matted to her sweaty forehead. “I wanted to make sure our sluts keep their bodies nice and tight.”
“It’s working,” I grinned, my cock hardening. “I think I know another way you can burn those calories.”
An orgy quickly devolved. By the end, everyone was covered in fluids and sweat. I lay in the middle of the feminine flesh, Mary cuddled against me. I did love my growing harem of sluts. They spiced up the sex.
“I think we need showers,” Mary declared, cum and pussy juices smeared across her breasts and face.
“Uh-huh,” I panted, helping her up.
Mary and I went first, as befitted our station. The shower in the mater bath hissed to life, hot steam billowing out. We slipped in and Mary grabbed the soap, her hands sliding up and down my back.
“You going to see that friend today?” I asked. “The real estate broker.”
“Yeah, Alice,” Mary answered.
“Alice, huh, is she cute?”
“Yes,” Mary answered playfully. “And happily married, so stay away.” Mary emphasized her point by poking me in the back.
“Sure, Mare,” I told her. “There are plenty of women in the world for me to fuck.”
“Good,” Mary said. “Anyways, I had an idea were we could build our mansion at.”
“Oh yeah, where at?” I asked.
“Behind this house is a large field that they started to build a housing development in. We can buy up the lot, this entire block, and maybe the next housing development over, and bulldoze them all done. Then we’d have a wonderful estate with a a gorgeous view of Mount Rainier and the Puyallup Valley.”
“Okay,” I said with a nod. Mary was an artist and had far more appreciation for atheistic then I did. “I trust your judgment, Mare.” She beamed at me, turning around so I could wash her back.
“So, are you really going to rob a bank?” Mary asked as I scrubbed her back with a loofah.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’ve always kinda wanted to. I think I’ll take Violet along with me.”
Mary turned around so I could wash her front. “Oh, you want to get more of her tight cunt,” she said with wry smile.
Violet was tight.
“Yeah,” I grinned. “But I caught on the news before I went out jogging. She’s been reported missing by her mother. Since she’s a nineteen-year-old White woman, the media’s having a field day. I’ll call her mom and the Seattle Police to straighten it out, but it could be a problem if a local cop saw her before it’s all fixed.”
Mary nodded. “Well, you are the only one of us that could talk your way out of any problems.”
“You could’ve had the same power,” I pointed out. I looked at her heart-shaped, freckled face and asked, “Why didn’t you? I meant to ask that night, but then the Devil gave me that gem and…”
Mary was silent for a moment, then finally answered, “I didn’t want the responsibility of that much power.” She swallowed. “You can do a lot of harm, Mark. Hell, you have done a lot of harm, and some of that was at my request.” There was a pregnant pause. “I mean, don’t you ever feel slightly guilty for what we do to the sluts?”
“No,” I said without hesitation. “When I got these powers, I told myself I was above such petty concerns. I only felt guilt for what I did to you.” I said. “Shit, I still feel guilty.”
Mary rubbed my arm. “I forgave you,” she said, and leaned in to kiss me. It made me feel a little better. “But how do you stop feeling guilt?”
“You just need to tell yourself your better than all the rest of them,” I told her. “We are better than other people, than the sluts. We’re special, and they’re not.”
“That’s it?”
“Yeah,” I answered. She sighed, and hugged me tightly. Her body shook, and I realized she was crying.
I froze.
I didn’t know what to do, what to say. I didn’t have a lot of experience comforting crying women. I just squeezed her back, stroking her wet hair. “I…uh. We can…” I cleared my throat, “We can let the sluts go. Just say the word, Mare. We don’t need them. I don’t need them. We just need each other.”
“I…I can’t,” Mary sobbed. “There’s this voice whispering to me, telling me it’s wrong. But my body, my pussy, is telling me it’s so very right.”
“So, which voice do you want to listen too?”
She sobbed, “My pussy.” Mary relaxed in my arms, tension fleeing her body. “Make love to me, Mark. Make me forget.”
Her lips were passion on mine, her tongue writhing in my mouth. Her wet body pressed against me, soft and firm. My cock hardened between us and my hands roamed her sleek body. I found her plump ass, kneading a cheek with one hand, while my other hand groped a firm breast and hard nipple.
“That’s it,” she panted, her hips writhing.
Mary’s groin rubbed against me, seeking for my aching dick. Her soft hands ran down my back, across my side and found my hard cock and guided it to her wet vulva. We moaned together as my cock slid inside her, agonizingly slow. Our nerves were on fire with passion for each other, and our hips found a slow, steady rhythm.
“My stallion,” Mary moaned. “My handsome stallion. Fuck me harder! I need it!”
I gripped her hips, thrusting hard. Mary groaned and clawed my back. “My sweet filly!” I panted. “You’re all I need.”
“Give me your cum!” she ordered wantonly. “Oh, I need it! Warm and sticky! My pussy needs it!”
“Here it comes, Mare!” I gasped.
My balls tightened. My cock throbbed. I groaned, slamming into the depths of her hot cunt. My cock throbbed and I shuddered as I unloaded into my love. One, two, three powerful jets of cum pulsed into her pussy.
“Mary,” I grunted, pleasure surging through me.
Mary gasped, her body writhing against mine. She hugged me tight, rubbing her naked breasts to my chest as her cunt convulsed about my cock, squeezing it with a velvety warmth. Her beautiful face twisted as her passion overtook her.
“My stallion,” she moaned.
Mary clung to me in the shower, her face pressed against my chest, my cock growing soft inside her pussy. We didn’t say a word, we just enjoyed the warm water spraying over us and the comfort of each other. I held my love, and savored her arms holding me. This was all I really needed. The sluts, the women I made fuck me, they were just fun, just pleasant diversions. This is what was real, what mattered.
Somehow, Mary had become my whole world in just a short time.
I would have gladly stayed like this forever, but the hot water heater had other ideas.
Mary seemed in a better mood when we slipped out of the cold shower. She grabbed a towel and playfully dried me off. She then insisted on shaving me and only managed to nick me three times. She giggled each time, tearing a piece of toilet and sticking them to the cuts. From guest bathroom we could here a lot of shrieks and giggles as the sluts were forced to take cold showers.
“The mansion is definitely going to need some heavy duty water heaters,” I told Mare as we checked in on the sluts. “Like a hotel.”
Mary nodded, watching Korina shivering in the shower as she quickly washed her body.
After we dressed and gathered our things, Mary and I faced our collected sluts in the living room to give them their instructions for the day. Violet pressed against my side, a sweet smile on her innocent face, and dressed in the pink dress she wore yesterday.
“Desiree,” Mary commanded. “Let Xiu, Fiona, and Korina borrow some of your old clothes, and then take them shopping. Use Brandon’s credit card.”
“Yes, mi Reina,” Desiree purred. “I know just the clothing to get them.”
“So you’re in charge of cleaning the house,” I told Alison.
“Yes, Master,” she pouted, glancing enviously at Desiree.
“I know you want to get out of the house, but it needs to be clean,” I told her. “I’ll spend some time with you this evening.”
Alison grinned. “Thank you, Master!”
A few minutes later, the three naked sluts trooped down, dressed in Desiree’s ill-fitting clothes. They hung like a tent on petite Xiu. Desiree traipsed down in a slutty, black dress that revealed most of her cleavage, and a short skirt that flirted with revealing her ass.
“I think we’re ready,” I said.
“Be careful,” Mary ordered, kissing me. “Do you have your crystal?”
I stuck my hand into my pocket, touching the crystal the Devil had given me. His words echoed in my ears: If you are ever in trouble, hold this crystal and say, “Lilith, appear before me.” I could see some worry in my fiancee’s eyes. Something was coming, but we had no idea what.
“Yeah, it’s right here,” I said, pulling it out of my jean pocket for a moment, and showing it to her. She relaxed. “I love you, Mare.”
“Love you, too, hun.”
Sister Louise Afra
I was on my third cup of coffee as I watched the Fitzsimmons house, trying to stave off boredom. Nothing had happened since Mark had returned from his jog. The disgusting pervert had a naked woman with him. He took her inside the house across the street. Fifteen minutes later, he left there with a smile on his face. The poor woman was married; I saw her kiss her husband goodbye from the open doorway in a loose dressing gown twenty minutes later.
Did Mark make the husband watch? Did the pervert get off on making the man watch the woman he loved being violated before him? Mark made Desiree’s husband, Brandon, watch as he defiled her. Fucking Warlocks.
My fingers slipped under my skirt. The woman across the street was quite beautiful.
I bet Mark fucked her, bent over a table, his hands squeezing her ass. I moaned, slowly rubbing my clit in delicious circles. I pictured her husband sitting in the corner of the kitchen, looking sad and pathetic while his wife howled and moaned like a whore for Mark.
I fucked my fingers slowly in and out of my cunt. The woman would be a whore for Mark. That’s what he did. Degrade women. Turning them into his cum-buckets. I bit my lip, imaging the woman’s breasts. They looked like a nice pair beneath that silk robe. With hard nipples. Mark would squeeze them as he drove his cock into her pussy, and she would gasp and moan, thinking she loved it.
She should put that mouth to better use.
I rubbed my pussy harder, picturing the woman between my thighs, her tongue licking through my folds. Mark looked on, sad and pathetic while his whore pleasured me. Her tongue was agile, worming deep, brushing all the wonderful spots inside me.
“Yes, yes, lick my pussy!” I hissed as my orgasm roared through me. I breathed hard, my eyes fluttering open. “I’ll make sure he never touches you again,” I promised the woman.
Nothing else had happened for two more hours. Then the garage doors slid open. The silver Mustang pulled out first. I could just make out Mark and a young woman as the Mustang roared down the street, followed quickly by one of the redheads in a maroon Volkswagen Eos. A gray Toyota parked across the street followed them out, one of the neighbors off to work.
I rushed outside to follow Mary.
This might be my only chance to catch Marks number one woman alone. I climbed into the black BMW I borrowed from Brandon and fumbled at the keys. Mary roared down the street, driving almost as fast as Mark had.
“Come on,” I moaned as I yanked the door open. She was getting away.
A third car pulled out of the driveway, a white BMW driven by Desiree and crowded with three other women. I started Brandon’s car and pulled out behind them. Desiree didn’t drive as reckless as Mark and Mary.
“Dammit,” I moaned when we reached the main road.
The Eos was gone. I stared at Desiree’s car, my fingers drumming on the steering wheel. There were four of his Thralls in there. She made the turn onto Shaw Road.
I decided to follow.
Maybe I could get the opportunity to perform the Prayer of Zanah — transforming them into my weapons — on one or all of them, and get the odds back in my favor. I turned onto Shaw Road and followed the White BMW, my heart beating with excitement.
THE END OF CHAPTER 0NE