The Devils Pact Pt 43

Cast of Characters

Warlocks

Mark Glassner -- Mary Sullivan

Sex Slaves "The Sluts"

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

Servants

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

The Living Church

Daisy & Rose Cunningham (High Priestesses)

Demons

Lucifer -- Lilith -- Marduk -- Molech

The Cult of Lilith

Lana -- Chantelle -- Babylon -- Crystal -- Starlight -- Nurse Thamina -- Fiona -- Tir (monster) -- Lamia (Monster) -- Cora (monster) -- Ziki (monster)

Sisters of Mary Magdalene

Doug Allard -- Tina Allard -- Azrael (Angel)

Other

Chase (Mark & Mary's Daughter) -- 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 Husband)-- Damien (Missy's Fiancee) -- Avialle (Antsy's Girlfriend) -- Agent Noel Heinrich

Chapter One

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. They 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 where a statue was raised in their honor at Pioneer Park.

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

Chasity "Chase" Alberta Glassner

I was born three minutes after midnight on 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 babe. They named me 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 during 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 breathe.

"Well, at least there's one woman in my life I can win a tickling contest with," he joked as I gasped for breath, his blue eyes twinkling.

"Daddy!" I laughed, such joy in me. Then I would smile while Mother would sneak up from behind.

"Got you!" she cried out and tickled my father from behind.

I giggled and clapped my hands while he laughed on the bed, the seriousness in his face vanished. Only mirth filled his expression. A delight that made me feel so warm inside. Mother would smile just as much as she pressed him down.

"Enough!" he cried out between laughter. "Mare, that's enough. You win."

"Good," she said, smiling down at them. She kissed him.

They always started kissing after their tickle fights. One of the many maids who lived in the mansion would pick me up while my parents loved each other. They'd take me to go play with my half-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, the son of Mother's youngest sister, Aunt Missy. 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 envied them.

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 young, beautiful women who 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, a twinkle in his green eyes--the same shade as Mother--his graying, red hair pulled back into a ponytail.

I was never lonely after that. Grandfather introduced me to the magic of books. I read every day, transported to wondrous 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. "It wasn't a lesson."

"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 tapped his finger against the side of my head. "Consider what they say, weigh their evidence, and decide for yourself if they are right or wrong."

As I grew older, my half-siblings, Uncle Michael, 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 devoured everything Grandfather and Sam taught us. While my siblings were bored, I drank it up like a sponge. Grandfather had opened my eyes up when he taught me to read, and our lessons were just more time for me to learn from him.

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, while 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 husband had died from the Wormwood Plague. For a while, 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 us."

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 slay Marduk; April cried for her dead wife for an entire year. When Ashtoreth, the final demon, launched a surprise attack on the mansion out of desperation just a few weeks before my eleventh birthday, April and Xiu, along with many bodyguards and maids, perished. I watched Father and Mother fight for the first time while hiding beneath a hedge. They killed scores of the demons that poured out of portals opened across the mansion's grounds.

They were magnificent. I truly understood why people

believed

they were Gods.

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.

I wasn't as ready to rush into sex as my siblings. The day they turned eighteen, Silas was found with Delilah and Andrea in bed with him. "That's my son," Father had laughed when he heard about it. "Good man."

It was another year before I was ready.

On my nineteenth birthday, my parents threw an elaborate party for me. It was a lot more "adult" than my previous parties. None of the children had been invited. Bishop Mattock and his wife, Jessie, brought a few temple prostitutes for entertainment. 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 stand. 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. I loved masturbating my virgin snatch, and hungered for it right then.

Mother appeared before me, naked and flushed, and took my other hand. Her auburn hair fell about her heart-shaped face, her perky tits jiggling before me. She looked like my sister now, appearing only a year or two older than me.

"Are you ready, Chase?" she asked me, green eyes twinkling.

"Yeah, Mom," I answered. I took a deep breath. "I'm ready to pop my cherry and become a woman."

All the guests cheered. The ballroom of the mansion erupted in such applause. It ashed over me. I swayed, almost struck dizzy by it. Such an exhilaration shot through. I had felt the adoration of worshipers before, but this... This was intoxicating. I clutched my parents' hands, my entire body buzzing in anticipation.

My parents led me through my guests. My cheeks burned as they watched us. My pussy grew hotter and hotter. I had never been so excited in my life. I glanced at my father, such a handsome man with his dark hair and rugged, youthful face. A gleam entered his blue eyes.

A hunger.

For me.

"Give her a good tumble, big bro," Aunt Antsy catcalled.

"Make him howl, Chase," Aunt Missy cooed. She pinched my ass as I walked by.

I gasped, and Aunt Missy grinned at me. She looked younger than me, her body petite and girlish, her mischievous face framed by her strawberry-blonde hair. Her son, Michael, newly turned eighteen, stood beside her, his cum running down her thighs.

"I hope you won't forget about your grandfather," he winked at me.

Grandmother, her blonde hair falling about her girlish face, pressed against Grandpa. In fond tones, she purred, "Dirty, old man."

They kissed. My heart beat faster for the love they shared.

Then we were out of the ballroom. Music struck up behind us, the party continuing without us. Every step built the anticipation in the depths of my pussy. I struggled to imagine what it would be like to make love to my father. To feel my first cock ever slide into my pussy's depths. I trembled in anticipation, my auburn hair spilling about my shoulders.

Mother glanced at me, giving me a reassuring smile. "Your father is skilled at the art of deflowering virgins."

"He's had enough practice," I managed to say, surprised I had the quip in me.

Father grinned, looking so proud of himself for deflowering a virgin every day. His priests brought them from around the world, girls who'd dedicated themselves just for the chance of being selected to surrender their cherries to Father at eighteen. Only the most beautiful were selected for the honor. Father loved them greatly.

They always smiled when they left his room.

And now it was my turn.

I trembled as we entered their apartment in the mansion. Candles lit the room, transforming the familiar suite into something sensual and erotic. Incense burned, lavender and sweet, the scent making me feel dizzy. We passed through the living room to their bedroom, more candles burning, the bed covered in pink rose petals.

"Father," I whimpered as he pulled me to him. I stared up at him, getting lost in his blue eyes.

I knew he loved me so much, but today I felt his passion. His desire.

Father claimed my lips in a body-shuddering kiss. I pressed tight against him, feeling his cock pressing into my groin. I shuddered, loving the taste of him. The feel of his lips. My first taste of incestuous love with my father.

Mother's hands found the zipper of my new dress, a low-cut, dark-blue party dress with a ruffled skirt. As she drew it off, I stepped back, letting Father witness my nubile body's unveiling. The cool silk slid down my skin, exposing my naked flesh to his hungry gaze. His blue eyes lit up at the sight of my breasts, small and perky. They were dusted in freckles just like Mother's.

He groaned at the sight of me.

I shivered. He was so strong, so powerful, and I wanted to be taken by him.

Father gently cupped my left breast, his thumb sliding over my flesh and brushing my turgid nipple. I gasped, my eyes widening. Pleasure shot down to my pussy. Such a wave of naughty heat washed through me. I whimpered. It felt so different from touching myself. So much more immediate. His thumb stimulated my nipple a thousandfold.

My pussy drank in the sensation.

"We made a beautiful child, Mare," he said, his voice thick and throaty.

"Yes, we did," Mother purred. She slid her hand up my waist to cup my other breast. Her fingers were slimmer, more delicate, but felt just as wonderful on my tits. She stood beside me, facing Father.

"You two could be sisters," Father whispered. "You look so much alike."

I flushed as delight rippled through me. Mother was the most beautiful woman in the universe; it made me feel giddy to be compared to her. I glanced at Mother as she beamed at me, her thumb massaging my nipple.

"You are a treasure, Chase," she whispered. And then her lips found my neck. So warm and wet.

I gasped as she nibbled on me, touching me in such a wicked way. Father's fingers rolled my nipple between his fingers now. Tingles raced down to my virgin pussy. I whimpered, my heart beating faster and faster. Then Mother pinched my other nipple, twisting it.

I whimpered. I made such naughty sounds. It felt so wicked. I sucked in a deep breath. My heart pounded through my veins. I swayed back and forth as they kept playing with me. My nipples throbbed and ached as my eyes traveled down my father's body.

To his cock.

I gasped at the sight of it. I had never truly seen it before now. How thick it was. How long it jutted from his dark bush, pointing at me. Nervous flutters rippled through my stomach. My breath quickened.

How could that fit in me?

"It'll be okay," Mother whispered. Her lips nuzzled at my ear now. "Relax, Chase. Your father would never hurt you."

"Never," Father said.

I turned and looked at Mother. I smiled at her, the nervousness dying down. Then her lips met mine. I shuddered, kissing my mother as a lover for the first time. It was hot and dizzying, like with Father, but her lips were softer. Sweeter. She had no rough stubble. I moaned, loving it, my body shuddering as my parents kept massaging my nipples.

I cocked my head to the side as I closed my eyes. I tried to move my lips like hers, to kiss her back with as much excitement. Then I groaned as Mother's tongue pushed past my lips. She flickered it around through my mouth.

"Beautiful," Father groaned, his hands touching my body, stroking me, building my ardor to higher levels. "You're both making me ache so badly."

I shivered, feeling his eyes on me.

Then Mother broke our kiss. "Oh, Mark, we raised such a precious little thing."

"We have," Father said.

I just stood there breathless and swaying from the passion of the kiss. Father turned my face to his and claimed my lips in another kiss. He kissed me with even more power this time. I felt the roughness of his stubble. I quivered as a man, my father, kissed me.

I melted into his strength. I pressed my naked body against his muscular form. His cock pressed into my soft belly, leaving a wet streak of something on my belly. Mother's frank sex talk from a few years ago supplied the answer.

Precum.

"Mmm, we're going to love you, Chase," Mother purred as Father's tongue ravaged my mouth. His hands gripped my ass, squeezing me.

I trembled, my pussy clenching. I wanted that so much.

And then Mother joined us. Her face nuzzled in, her lips meeting ours. Both my parents kissed me, loved me. Our tongues met and dueled. They stroked each other as I quivered. I didn't know I could feel such exhilaration surge through me. Or such tension.

My entire body felt taut, like I dangled from puppeteer strings, unable to control my actions. My hands reached out, brushing my parents' bodies. I wanted to explore them. To enjoy them. I whimpered as they both hugged me, caressed me, loved me.

We fell upon the bed in a tangle of kissing bodies. Hands roamed my flesh, groped my breasts, rolled my nipples, and stroked my thighs. They were on opposite sides of me, taking turns enjoying my mouth.

"Mother!" I moaned. "Father!"

"Our little Chase," Father panted.

Mother whimpered, her fingers toying with my thick mat of fiery-red pubic hair. Her green eyes met mine as she slid her digits lower and lower. She found my pussy. I shuddered at her touch; the stimulation was too much.

My folds drank in her digits' deft touch and transmuted them into rapture. It flooded out of me, washing through my body. I spasmed as my orgasm rippled through me. I gasped into my father's lips as my toes curled.

"Mother!" I moaned as I broke the kiss with my father. "Oh, Mother, yes!"

Waves of delight washed out of me. I reveled in it. The pleasure intense and glorious, so much better than using my own fingers in my bower at night. She kept massaging me, smiling at me as I trembled through my climax.

"Just a naughty firecracker," Father growled, squeezing my ripe breast.

"Mmm, yes," Mother purred. "She's got her mother's hot pussy." She brought her fingers to her lips and sucked on them, cleaning off my juices. She shuddered, her eyes squeezing shut as she enjoyed my flavor.

It made me feel so naughty.

"Mmm, tart and sweet," she moaned when she finished. Then she touched me again, my flesh still quivering from my orgasm. She held them up to my father. "You have got to taste her, Mark."

Father engulfed her fingers, savoring my passion, too. It made me feel so faint with delight, my virgin pussy clenching. When he finished, he grinned at me and said, "I have to get a better taste."