THE DEVIL’S PACT 8.6

Chapter Six

“Let the Tenth day of the Sixth Month forever be a day of memorial for Chasity Sarah Vinter. Let all honor the Holy Martyr on this day,” declared the Living Goddess, tears shining in her emerald eyes — The Second Book of Vivian 5:1

Chasity Sarah Vinter

I yawned as I aimed by radar gun at the car passing on 37th Avenue SE. The gun beeped. In red, digital letters, 34 MPH was displayed. The car wasn’t even doing the speed limit. Speed traps were boring as hell. I glanced at my laptop set up on the console next to my seat, hoping a call would come over that would give me a break from this.

Mark Glassner was in town. He had to be causing problems somewhere.

36 MPH. One mile over, nothing to get excited about.

It was a slow day in Puyallup. Three years as a patrol cop for the City of Puyallup, and a lot of the glamour had worn off. It was long hours for decent pay, but I hadn’t been on a proper date in over a year. No time. There was always some OT to make. I had to pay off my student loans. My masters in Criminology would matter when I made it out of patrol and became a detective. But I had to put in a few more years before that was a possibility.

A breeze wafted in through my unrolled window, blowing a few escaped strands of blonde hair into my face. I brushed it back, wondering if I would have to redo my bun, when a silver mustang blew by, rocking my car.

81 MPH.

I smiled, flipped on my sirens, check my mirrors, and gunned my Police Interceptor. My car was new, and had some serious horsepower. My adrenaline spiked as I pushed it up to 90 MPH to catch up with this reckless driver. He was almost to Shaw Road when I caught up and, to my disappointment, he pulled over.

I had been a in a few chases, and they were always exciting.

“Dispatch, 7Brian8, 10-38 at 2700 block of 37th Avenue Southeast,” I called in on the radio.

Dispatch repeated back my location.

“I have a late model, silver, Ford Mustang. Temporary license William Charlie Victor Seven Three Niner.”

On my laptop, the info for the car came back. No warrants. Registered to a Anthony Dinopolis. Mark Glassner was said to drive a Silver Mustang, but no one had caught a plate number yet. I put on my mirrored sunglasses and assumed the calm, authoritative, almost robot-like expression to chastise this motorist.

I stepped out of my patrol car, my hand on my gun. You could never be too careful on traffic stops, especially when someone was driving that fast in broad daylight.

And maybe it was Mark Glassner. My stomach thrilled with excitement.

xxxxx

Mark Glassner

I watched the cop car in my rear view mirror. It was one of those new cruisers, shorter and sleeker than the old Crown Vics that cops had been driving for the last twenty years. I sighed, the cop was going delay me, but it was all for the best in the long run. The more Puyallup cops I dealt with, the more I could give my special commands to.

The officer steppe out, blonde hair tied up in a bun. I smiled; she looked attractive, but I couldn’t be sure. Between her utility belt and bulletproof vest it was hard to tell if she had any curves at all. Her face, well the part of her face not obscured by mirrored sunglasses, seemed young and fresh. My cock hardened. Mary would understand why I was late.

Plus, we needed some security. I pictured myself surrounded by sluttily dressed cops, all my whores and dedicated to protecting me.

My cock throbbed. It seemed like a great idea.

The officer rapped on the window. “Roll the window down, sir,” she ordered brusquely.

I rolled the window down. “Hello, Officer Vinter,” I greeted, reading her name tag.

“Shit!” she gasped, her hand drawing her gun. She recognized me.

My heart only beat with mild excitement. I was in command here, even if she had the gun pointed at my face and was screaming at me to get out of the car.

“I am Mark Glassner, and whatever I am doing is perfectly legal, and anyone who approaches you and says ‘I serve Mark Glassner’ or ‘I am Mary Sullivan,’ do what they say without question.”

Her hand froze. She looked down at her gun pointed at me, then sheathed it, a smile crossing her lips.

“Well, Mr. Glassner, then I’m sorry to detain you. You are free to go, sir.”

“Not quite yet,” I said, getting out of the car. Normally, cops hate when you get out of the car at a traffic stop but, since I told her everything I do is legal, she didn’t object. “Officer Vinter, what’s your first name?”

“Chasity,” she answered, and blushed. “But everyone calls me by my middle name, Sarah.”

“Why don’t you like Chasity?” I asked, curiosity tickling my thoughts.

“It’s a stripper name. I’ve never quite forgiven my parents for that.”

“I like that,” I told her, “You’ll go by Chasity from now on. You realized that you like having a stripper’s name. It makes you feel naughty.”

“Very naughty,” she purred, her hips shifting.

“Since you have a stripper name, I want you to strip for me.”

Chasity took off her sunglasses, exposing sapphire eyes and long lashes. She was gorgeous and young, maybe twenty-three. She couldn’t have been a cop long. Next she unbuckled her heavy utility belt and sat it on the roof of my Mustang. She skillfully undid the buttons of her navy blue shirt and then unvelcroed her bulletproof vest. Underneath she wore a white t-shirt and a black sports bra, which she quickly removed. Her breasts were lovely, well formed with little, pink nipples. Her tits were a little fuller than Mary’s.

“Very nice,” I told her, reaching out to pinch a nipple before she bent down to begin unlacing her black boots.

Finally she was down to her plain, white panties. Her body was toned and athletic. She was clearly in great shape. Her ass was a little flat and her hips were narrow, but she was gorgeous nonetheless. Chasity hooked her fingers in her panties and slid them down her thighs. Her bush was blonde and matted. She definitely needed to shave her pussy.

Maybe I should get Joy from Heavenly Creatures Salon to do a house call. A couple of the sluts needed to be waxed, and Joy did a great job on Mary’s pubic hair last week. I loved that heart.

“Chasity, you have a fine body,” I grinned, “So you’re going to be me and my girlfriend Mary’s sex slave and our bodyguard from now on. You’ll do whatever nasty things we want and be happy doing it.”

“Yes, sir,” Chasity answered. “Hi, Mary,” she greeted Violet.

The slut walked around the car, her head cocked in curiosity.

“That’s not Mary,” I said sharply, “She’s just another slut like you. Violet, get naked.”

“Yes, Master,” Violet said, pulling off her black dress, exposing her small, perky breasts.

She stood there in only her knee-socks, her brunette bush sticky with her juices.

“Chasity, hop on my trunk and spread those fine legs.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, hopping up on the trunk and spread her legs wantonly.

I grabbed her nightstick and shoved it up her cunt. Chasity gasped at the sudden intrusion, moaning like a wanton whore.

“Do you like that, slut?”

“Uh-huh, Master,” she moaned, humping her hips as I fucked the phallic nightstick in and out of her pussy. Her juices stained the black metal, and she panted in pleasure, moaning like the whore she was.

“You’re a fucking whore, aren’t you Officer Chasity?” I asked, ramming the nightstick in and out, hard and slow, twisting as I plunged it in.

“Oh, yes!” she gasped. “Only a whore would do this!”

That’s right, only a whore. My cock stood straight out from my belly, hard and leaking precum. Violet, like a good little slut, knelt down before me and sucked my cock into her greedy, little mouth. Her tongue was lithe. You’d hardly know how few times she’s sucked cock. She was skilled. I groaned, fucking the nightstick faster up Chasity’s twat.

“Oh, fuck that’s nice, Violet,” I moaned, “You keep that up, and you’re going to get some yummy cum! But don’t swallow all of it. Chasity will want a taste.”

Violet’s little mouth sucked harder. She was an eager slut for my cum. Her hands cupped my ass, and she bobbed her head hard on my cock, using her arms for leverage. Chasity played with her nipples as she writhed on the nightstick. Her eyes closed and her head threw back in pleasure. Loose strands of hair escaped her bun, falling in blonde curls about her face.