The Devils Pact Pt 32

Cast of Characters

Warlocks

Mark Glassner -- Mary Sullivan

Sex Slaves "The Sluts"

Alison -- Desiree Fitzsimmons -- Xiu -- Korina-- Violet -- Lillian -- Chastity (deceased) -- Karen (Sister Louise Afra) -- Jessica St. Pierre -- April

Servants

Samnag "Sam" (Holy Vizier) -- Dr. Willow WolfTail -- 51 (Chief Bodyguard) -- Rachel -- Leah (Chauffeur) -- Jacob -- -- Monique -- Lize -- Lynda (Pilot) -- Joslyn (Pilot)

Living Church

Daisy & Rose Cunningham (High Priestesses)

Demons

Lucifer -- Lilith -- Marduk

The Cult of Lilith

Lana -- Chantelle -- Babylon -- Crystal -- Starlight

Sisters of Mary Magdalene

Mother Superior Maryām -- Archangel Gabriel -- Dominion Ramiel (Angel) -- Doug Allard -- Tina Allard

Other

Brandon Fitzsimmons -- Antsy (Mark's Sister) -- Alice -- Sandy (Mark's Mother) -- Sean (Mary's Father) -- Tiffany (Mary's Mother, Sister Theodora Mariam) -- Shannon (Mary's Older Sister) -- Missy (Mary's Younger Sister) -- George (Shannon's Fiance)-- Damien (Missy's Boyfriend) -- Avialle (Antsy's Girlfriend) -- Agent Noel Heinrich, FBI (Former Slut) -- Nurse Thamina (Former Slut) -- Fiona (Former Slut)

Chapter One

And not even death shall free those bound by the Zimmah ritual. Their souls chained to the Warlock's fate, suffering for eternity with their bondsmen.

--excerpt from the Magicks of the Witch of Endor

Sunday, July 22nd, 2013 - Karen Redding - Seattle, WA

"Push, Karen!" Chantelle shouted as she gripped my hands.

I was confused, in pain. I had been in labor for hours and hours and I was so tired.

"You're almost there," Lana said, the blonde woman on my other side.

Where was Master and Mistress?

I struggled to understand, but the last few weeks had been a blur as I drifted in and out of consciousness. I didn't know where I was or, more importantly, where Master and Mistress were. I was being cared for by Lana and Chantelle, the missing sex slaves, in a strange house. It wasn't the home I recognized. It wasn't the hospital bed where I was being cared for when I first fell ill.

"Where is Master?" I would ask whenever I was strong enough to speak. But the women around me, either Lana or Chantelle or an older woman named Babylon, would deflect my question.

"Oh, you just missed him," they would say and stroke my forehead. "Now rest. You need your strength. Your baby is very important."

"How? It's Lilith's?" I remembered that much. I had hazy memories of Willow telling me Lilith's child grew inside me too fast. It was why I was so weak, the rapid growth robbing me of nutrients. "How can her child be important?"

"It is. Master and Mistress want it to be born," they all said. "So rest."

But it didn't make sense to me. Master and Mistress despised Lilith. The demon plotted against them, using them for some nefarious aim. They didn't trust her. So why was her child so important? But I couldn't think right now. The pain was so hazy.

"You need to push," Chantelle said in her French-Canadian accent. "You can do it, Karen. I know it's been a long delivery."

The contraction came on me in a wave of pain, and I pushed, straining with every fiber of my being to deliver my child. But it didn't feel right. I was so scared. Why wasn't Master or Mistress here? They cared for their sluts.

"Master!" I shouted desperately. "Mistress, I need you, please!"

"I can see the head," Lana said encouragingly. "One more push, Karen, you're doing so well."

I took a deep breath, my head swimming. I was so weak. I gathered my thoughts and concentrated. The next contraction came upon me, squeezing my insides. I screamed and pushed. The pain was so much I thought I was going to die.

"Master!" I cried out.

And then the baby was out of me. A loud, healthy cry echoed through the room. I groaned, sighed, relaxing. Everything started to grow black. I was so tired. I had delivered Lilith's child. I could rest now. My eyelids were so heavy and I didn't fight them. I was just too tired. I allowed myself to drift away.

I was falling, falling, falling.

Into darkness.

I gasped awake, the pain and fatigue gone from my body. There was neither heat nor cold. I wasn't on a bed but on something harder. Stone. I blinked as gray mist swirled over me. Every direction I looked was fog.

What was going on?

I stood up with ease. I wasn't weak any longer. I glanced down at my naked flesh, my breasts thrusting before me, my stomach smooth and flat like I hadn't been pregnant ever. I slid my hands down to my pussy. It felt normal, shaved. Was it a dream? Had I only imagined that I was pregnant and trapped away from my Masters?

Or was this a dream? Had I passed out from the fatigue of such a long labor?

I peered around. In every direction, I beheld more oppressive mist. It swirled and eddied though I felt no breeze. There were no features either. The ground I stood on was flat, gray stone. It blended into the mist after only a few feet, vanishing into haze.

"Hello!" I called, hoping someone would hear me.

Nothing.

I whirled about, straining to see something in the vast fog. But there was nothing. Just gray mist, swirling in strange eddies. I shouted again. What should I do? Maybe I should start walking? But where? There was nothing here.

I turned around slowly, creeping as I studied the fog, straining for some sign to point my way when I noticed some movement out of the corner of my eye. I turned quickly to my right, straining to see. Was something there? Was it just the mist swirling that caught my attention? I frowned, watching the pattern. No, there was something dark forming in the mist. The something resolved into a vaguely human form. I took a deep breath and started walking forward, towards the figure.

"Chasity?" I asked as the mists parted, exposing the blonde woman. She was naked, her round breasts jiggling as she walked. A sad smile formed on her lips. She was one of Master's sluts, a former cop he had dominated.

"I'm sorry, Karen," Chasity said as she hugged me. Her body was warm against mine. That felt nice. I hugged my sister-slut back with fierce joy, savoring the feel of her breasts on mine, my nipples hardening. I liked this better than giving birth.

"What are you sorry for?" I asked as she broke the hug.

"You're dead, Karen."

I blinked. "What?" That couldn't be possible. I just went to sleep. Right? "I'm just dreaming. It was a difficult labor."

"I know it was," Chasity said, heat in her voice, her blue eyes flashing for a moment. Then she grabbed my hand and led me into the mist. "We're waiting over here."

"Waiting for what?"

"Not what, who. Master and Mistress," Chasity answered. "When they die, we will be reunited with them. Until then, all we can do is wait and watch over them."

There were six other women waiting. I recognized a few as the bodyguards. They all gave me such warm smiles and hugged me. Their lips felt so nice as they kissed me. I shivered, recognizing a shared sisterhood between us. We were all bound to Master through the

Zimmah

ritual. United, chained to his soul.

"What is going on?" I asked as I sat down with them, Chasity on my right, a bodyguard with dirty-blonde hair and green eyes on my left.

"We're all dead," Chasity said. "But we're bound to Master and Mistress. So we wait here for them to come and collect us."

"What? Where are we?"

"The Shadows. The highest level of the Abyss, the closest to the mortal world."

"Abyss?" Once, I was a nun, Sister Louise Afra, and I knew what that meant. And then I understood. "Master's and Mistress's Pacts with the Devil. They sold their souls and are destined for the Abyss when they die."

"And we shall serve them like we did in life," Chasity said.

The other women nodded, completely accepting their fate.

I blinked. And so was I. It felt right. I was theirs. They owned me. I had submitted to them after they punished me for attacking them. I became their slut. I would always serve them. For eternity.

"And it's not so bad waiting," Chasity told me.

"No, it's not," the bodyguard purred as she leaned in and nuzzled at my breasts. "I'm 5. That's the number they gave me. Though my real name was Dove."

I groaned as her tongue licked at my nipple. It made me shudder and shiver as 5 sucked on my nipple. I moaned, savoring the sensations rippling from my nub as Chasity leaned in and nuzzled at my other nipple. She sucked on it, too.

Pleasure shot down my body to my pussy. It grew hot as I squirmed. I leaned back on my hands, smiling at the other women as they nuzzled and loved each other. No, this wasn't so bad. We would wait and be reunited with those we loved again one day.

And until then, we would pleasure each other, share in our sisterhood.

"Oh, that's nice," I purred as they both nibbled on me.

5 sucked with more aggression than Chasity. I stroked both their hairs, both blonde, though Chasity's was lighter, and savored their hungry mouths. My nipples throbbed and ached, my pussy growing hotter and hotter between my thighs.

5's and Chasity's fingers both slid down my body. They reached for my belly. I groaned, their fingers caressing my shaved vulva. I shivered as they pressed deeper between my thighs, touching my flesh. I felt freshly waxed.

That couldn't be right. I had been abed for a month or more. I should have a bush. Unless... I appeared the way I wanted. And Master loved us all waxed and smooth. Curious, I shoved my hands between Chasity's and 5's thighs, feeling their flesh.

They were smooth and wet.

"Ooh, this is nice," I groaned as the three of us leaned back onto the ground, fingering each other. Chasity had thicker pussy lips than 5. I gasped, my toes curling as their digits danced through my pussy, stroking up and down, teasing me, driving me wild.

"Mmm, yes, it is," Chasity purred, breaking the kiss. Her blue eyes widened as I shoved my fingers into her pussy. Her warm flesh engulfed my digits, clenching down on them hard.

5 kept sucking, her cheeks hollowing as she loved my nipple. She made me squirm and undulate. My entire body shook. I groaned, my eyes rolling back into my head as I squirmed. I savored her touch dancing on my flesh. I bit my lip, my body shivering.

"Oh, yes, you are so delicious," I groaned. "Just make me feel amazing."

"Good," panted Chasity. She nuzzled her nose against mine before our lips met. Our tongues danced.

Either 5's or Chasity's fingers plunged into my pussy. I groaned, the digits of both my hands jamming deep into their cunts. The other set of fingers rubbed my clit, stroking it hard, making me shiver and shudder, moaning into my kiss with Chasity.

It was so wonderful to feel pleasure again. How long had it been?

I broke the kiss as 5 nipped my nipple. "Oh, you naughty bodyguard," I panted. "Oh, I like that. Pull on my nipple."

"Yes, ma'am," 5 moaned. She nipped again, stretching my nub. My pussy clenched on the fingers in my depths. The pleasure built as the two played with my snatch, massaging clit and nub, making me tremble. "Oh, that is just perfect. Mmm, yes. Stretch that nub. Oh, I love it."

Chasity nuzzled at my ear. "Oh, you are making my pussy feel so good. You are skilled, Karen."

"I'm older than I look," I giggled. "I've been with a lot of women."

5 released my nipple, licking her lips. "Oh, I can tell. You're going to make me cum, Ma'am."

I curled my fingers, sliding through both their pussies, questing for their G-spots. I wanted to give them duel pleasures. 5 spasmed first, her green eyes widening. A moment later, Chasity groaned, her pussy clenching on my fingers.

I found them and assaulted.

Both women bucked and groaned. They massaged my clit and fingered my pussy faster and faster as I rubbed their G-spots. All three of us sang out in pleasure as we squirmed. My breasts jiggled, my pussy clenching on their plunging digits.

Pleasure swelled in me. My hips lifted from the ground for a moment. I bucked, tensing. And came hard. "Chasity! 5! You wonderful sluts!"

"Yes, cum on my fingers," Chasity moaned, jamming them deep into me. "Oh, god, Karen. I... I..."

"I'm cumming!" 5 sang.

The three of us heaved in passion. Our pussies convulsed about each other's digits. Pleasure washed through my body. My clit ached beneath 5's massaging fingers. My eyes stared up into the mist as I groaned, the pleasure burning so hot.

I wished Master could see me. Could know I was having such pleasure and was with the others. He must be so...

A window opened. I stared at Master and Mistress. They were dressed in simple clothing, almost like tourist would wear, though Mistress's shorts were molded to her plump ass and curving hips, her top clinging to her tits. A white wedding veil draped over her auburn hair.

"They're married?" I gasped. "What did I miss?"

They were on a plane. A busty woman in a slutty stewardess outfit opened the doors, her tits actually fully exposed. Sunlight poured in along with roars of protest. I followed Master and Mistress as they stepped out of their airplane before a crowd held back by police. Not US police. Foreign. They were in Europe somewhere.

France. The signs were in French.

"I can see them," I groaned as the pleasure washed over me. I could still see my Master and Mistress, watch over them, learn about the world. "Oh, and he is so handsome. He looks so different. So strong and robust. I missed so much."

But I wouldn't. I would watch over Master and Mistress from here and wait for the day, hopefully not for many years to come, when we would be reunited in death.

* * *

Mary Glassner - Paris, France

The shouts of the protesters roared over us as we stepped out of the plane.

"They do not sound happy," Monica said in her French lilt. She was a busty, dark-haired woman that served as one our two stewardesses on or private Gulfstream IV jet. The other was Lize, a blonde whose tits were equally exposed. And just as lovely.

"What do the signs say?" Mark asked, his arm hooked with mine. I leaned against him, my wedding veil resting on my auburn hair. I was here to enjoy my honeymoon. It was around noon in Paris, though it felt far earlier in the morning.

"Go away false gods. Scam. Terrorist. Things like that, sir," Monique answered. "I do not think they appreciate my outfit. Some of them are screaming whore."

"Well, we love it," Mark said as he stepped down the stairs, facing the crowds. "Quiet!"

Some did go quiet, but not all. They kept shouting, brandishing their signs. They were mostly young people, dressed not unlike hipsters back home. Those that were silent looked around in confusion while their companions kept shouting.

"I said, quiet!" Mark snarled, growing annoyed.

The auroras of those still shouting were bright silver. They hadn't been affected by his commands. But the rest of the protesters had, their auras now stained black, the sign a normal human had fallen under a Warlock's powers. My eyebrows furrowed. Why hadn't all of them fallen under our power. Was a nun here?

After a moment, I blinked in understanding. "They don't all speak English."

"Oh, great," Mark groaned. "They have to understand me? Monique, how do I say quiet in French?"

"

Silencieux,"

she answered.

Mark said the word, badly, but it worked. They understood him well enough. The last of the shouting died. The protesters all looked around in shock. Some of their faces were still angry, while others were confused or even in awe, like they were just realizing that maybe our claims to being gods was accurate.

They weren't. But... we didn't contradict people who chose to worship us as the Living Gods. It was intoxicating being worshiped. Since Mark's shooting, the Miracle, a month ago, we had our own cult springing up, all serving us willingly. I know it was wrong but I didn't care.

Power was just so damned seductive and we had it. We may not be literal gods, but we would still make the world a better place. We would end hatred and violence. Bit by bit, we would make a utopia for all mankind.

And enjoy ourselves in the process.

Mark and I descended the ladders. The Paris police officers holding back the crowd stared at us in shock. Even they had to be quiet. We reached the bottom of the stairs, Mark walking with such a confident strut.

"Well, what a warm, welcoming greeting from the great city of Paris," Mark smiled. "I see the City of Love holds up to its reputation." He said it without any vitriol. "I am glad you have all come to see us. Mary and I are glad to celebrate our marriage in your wonderful city. Because it is the City of Love."

I glance at him and whispered, "Did April write a speech for you?"

He winked at me. April was one of our sluts and a writer. When she wasn't writing her gospel, a holy book for our followers about our lives, she was penning speeches for Mark's political campaign. He was growing more comfortable in doing it, speaking with a natural cadence after a month of giving them and talk shows. Every speech was a chance to get people to hear our message.

"And that is what brings us here." Mark put his arm around my shoulder, pulling me tight to him. "Love. The celebration of our love. And we want everyone to experience that love. To abandon hate. What good is it? Does it make you happy to yell at us? No, it doesn't. So love us."

The command rippled through the English speakers. They lowered their signs. They didn't speak, they still had to be quiet, but they now stared at us with awe or shame. Some threw down their signs. Those that didn't speak English glared at them, wanting to make sounds, to shout at their fellow protesters, but they couldn't.

"See, don't you already feel better?" Mark asked.

They nodded their heads.

"Love is such a wonderful thing," I told them, sensing my time to speak. "It's what unites you as a human. Hate is what tears you apart. Love is why we're here. To use it to make the world a better place. We're starting in America, but we'll come to Europe, too. Don't you worry. So until then, love everyone. Do not be ashamed of your desires. There is nothing forbidden between consenting adults. If you love someone, even if they are your mother, brother, father, or sister, then be with them. Love them. Isn't that so simple?"

They nodded their heads.

A few of the French-only speakers threw their signs down in disgust and marched away. They wouldn't speak for a while. I doubted Mark's command would last more than a few days. It was such a general one. Their souls would heal. But the others were feeling the weight of true commands, directed commands, reinforced by words, forever twisting their souls.

They would never hate again. And that was wonderful.

"You may speak," Mark said.

A spill of, "Sorries," and rapid French burst from the crowd. They pressed on the cops, now wanting to reach us. Worship us. I shivered and smiled at the crowd, feeling naughty rush of power. My eyes flicked through them, picking out the young, pretty girls, searching for the right ones.

I found them. A set of twins. Black hair, pale faces, cute noses. I wiggled my hips, my pussy growing hotter and hotter. "Officers, let the twins through. They just want to love us." I shivered as the cops obeyed and turned my attention to the girls. "Don't be ashamed, twins. Come forward and satiate your desires. You want to lick my pussy and suck Mark's cock."

"We do," one of the twins said, my commands seizing her. The power was so intoxicating. I shuddered deliciously.

The officers melted aside. The twins darted forward. They fell to their knees before us. "You are gods," one said, her eyes wide and dark. She knelt before me, wearing shorts and torn fishnet stockings. "Truly?"

"Truly," Mark answered her. He seized her sister's black hair. "Unzip us and love your gods. Celebrate with us. We were married last night."