The Devil’s Pact, The Tyrants’ Daughters
by mypenname3000
Copyright 2015

Chapter One: Shadow and Fire

Notes: Thanks to b0b for beta reading this!

Saturday, June 7th, 2054 – Astarte – Paris, Texas

Paris, Texas had been the best place to hide from Mark and Mary. They never suspected when they killed me that I went anywhere other than to the Abyss. Instead, I was raised by the Mayor’s daughter, Darleen Cummings, the idiotic girl that the Ghost had sold to me for that wondrous night of debauchery.

The vessel I inhabited had been conceived that night.

When Mark killed me, my soul had a refugee. This frail body. For nearly forty years I bided my time, slowly gathering scraps of power. I was the mayor now, inheriting the position from my vessel’s mother Darleen two years ago when she retired. I had used sex and dark magic to extend my subtle influence throughout the town beneath the Living Church’s nose.

I was sitting at my desk, my demonic guards flanking my windows. They had been men once, but I had dominated them wholly, stealing them from Mark and Mary’s control with ancient, vile magic. I savored the innocent maids screams as my knife carved out their hearts to enact the ritual. Thanks to my magic, they could become hoary, lion-like beasts.

My guards for the day of Mark and Mary’s downfall.

It approached. I could read it in the Stars. Even without my gift of prophecy—stolen from me when Mark’s golden sword slew me—the signs were apparent. The Creator would only stand for Mark and Mary’s domination for so long before Heaven acted.

But I didn’t expect it this morning.

I was reading over a dull report from the local Church, the priestess obsessed over the tiniest minutia. Happy and her cuckolded husband wanted everything perfect in the town, just the way the Living Gods commanded it, when the world changed.

One minute, a great power filled the world, and the next a vacuum.

I stirred, my leather chair creaking.

Excitement beat in my chest. I swiveled my chair, gazing out at the window. Mark and Mary were dead. Heaven had made their move. Confusion and chaos would follow. Opportunities would be found. My demons assumed their true form, pressing their spiky manes against my hips as their growling purrs echoed through the room.

I always liked lions.

I stroked their black manes, their thin, razor-sharp tails swishing back and forth as I plotted. I would need far more power if I wanted to rule once more. Out in the world, there would be a way. I just had to find it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Saturday, May 1st, 2055 – Aoifa Coughlan – Canyonville, OR

My lungs burned. My sides ached. I wanted to stop running, but the screams of battle propelled me. My heart hammered in my breast.

I threw a look over my shoulder at the inferno consuming Canyonville. Tears ran down my dirty face. My friends and family were being slaughtered. I clutched the box and the printed pages of Isabella’s epistle to my breasts, holding them tight.

It was our only hope.

The Living Gods had to answer my summons. Their worshipers were being slaughtered. The Holy Liberation Army of Oregon had descended upon us two weeks ago demanding our repentance. We had to give up our worship and love for the Living Gods and submit to the cross.

We refused. We only wanted to live in peace, to hold onto the perfect lives we had before the Death. Mark and Mary had ascended to heaven, and mankind had failed them. We didn’t maintain the utopia they had created. Within days, man fought man. We were as evil as the Gods always preached.

And the Apostates were the worse.

I was the only priestess that made it through the enemy’s lines. Rachel, Mary, Debra, Ursula, Rosa, and Gretchen all died trying to get clear of the town. I don’t know why I made it. Perhaps the Living Gods watched out for me. Perhaps I was just lucky.

If only Isabella’s Epistle had arrived earlier. The young woman’s letter delivered the Living Gods’ new message and instructions on how to summon them. Her words were my home’s only hope.

I burst out of the brush on Grazley Bridge Road, racing north towards the South Umpqua River. Stage Coach Road crossed ahead, a quarter mile from the bridge. My heart beat faster. Soldiers shouted behind me. I had to reach the crossroads.

A loud boom erupted. Fire roared and light flared, momentarily painting the road with orange, stark light.

I reached the crossroads, pushing back my fiery-red hair as I fell to my knees at a pothole. Isabella’s Epistle instructed that the box had to be buried at a crossroads. I reached into the pothole, prying out a chunk of broken asphalt and revealing the dirt bed of the road. I had no idea how far off midnight was, I just had to hope I wasn’t too late.

The Living Gods would only appear at midnight.

I shoved the box into the hole. It contained a lock of my hair, a lavender flower, and a rabbit’s foot. I covered the box with the chunk of asphalt. Then I raced to the shoulder to scoop up gravel into my slim fingers and dumped the dusty pebbles into the hole, burying the box.

“I think she ran over here!” a man shouted.

Fear shot through me. I was barely eighteen. The first seventeen years of my life had been in the idyllic peace of the Theocracy. I never thought I could be this scared. I scurried for the brush, burying myself into the thick leaves. The branches tore at my gauzy, white robes and my fiery hair. I didn’t want to die. I’ve never even had sex.

I had been saving myself for Him. At twelve, I was deemed beautiful enough to enter the lotto. Even when They ascended last year, I maintained my purity. I wanted to be ready for Him when He returned. I would give my virginity to Him. My gift. I wanted to be His. I wanted to serve the Gods and be Theirs.

So I really didn’t want to die.

I trembled in the bushes as boots crunched on asphalt. The soldiers of the Liberation Army were rough men, wearing dark clothes and carry forbidden guns. That was how my town lost. There were no guns in Canyonville. We respected the Living Gods wishes. We tried to be pacifist, to not harm our neighbors.

But the Apostates were so full of hate. They wanted to stamp out all traces of the “Tyrants.” They hated us. They all had embraced the old religions, and these men were as full of intolerance as the Christians always had been. They followed Doug and Tina Allard. Worse, they claimed the Holy Chasity as their Saint and claimed the Holy Daughter killed Her parents.

Such lies.

“Maybe we shouldn’t kill her,” one of the soldiers said, striding forward. “If we can convince her to repent…”

“You already have a wife,” another man growled. “We are not followers of the Tyrants. Keep your thoughts pure, brother.”

“I try, but a woman that beautiful…”

I shuddered. They would…force me. How disgusting.

“Please, come,” I whispered. It had to be midnight by now.

The soldiers drew closer to the crossroads. What if they found my box? Would it the stop the ritual?

Another explosion rocked the night.

“Damn, that was a big one,” chuckled a soldier. “These Glassnerian’s are putting up a fight. They’ve managed a fiercer resistance than Eugene.”

“Fire cleanses,” the older soldier nodded. “The world must be purified.”

“Sir!” the first soldier gasped, raising his weapon.

I blinked. Two people stood in the crossroad. I gasped in delight. It was Them. My God stood tall, blue eyes shining in the moonlight. His arm was wrapped around my Goddess’s waist, her perfect, gorgeous body pressed against His muscular frame, her dark-red shimmering. A smile crossed her heart-shaped, freckled face and green eyes twinkled with mirth.

“Where the fuck did they come from?” the first soldier shouted.

My God looked right at my hiding place. “Hello, Aoifa.”

“Get down on your knees,” the older soldier shouted, brandishing his rifle.

My Goddess flicked her hand. A wave of scintillating light swept out, crashing into the soldiers. Their bodies were consumed by inverse light, leaving behind glowing motes that drifted away on the light breeze.

“It is safe, Aoifa,” my Goddess said, her voice pure and beautiful.

“You came,” I sobbed, scrambling out of the bushes. I rushed to them, falling to my knees before Them. Tears of joy poured down my cheeks. “You will save me. You will save Canyonville.”

“Canyonville is lost,” the God said, bending down. He cupped my chin, lifting me up until he stared into my eyes. “You are such a beautiful girl. You will make them happy.”

“Who?”

Scarlet light flashed. A contract appeared in my Goddess’s hands. “Here is the deal we’ll make with you.” She pushed it into my hands.

I read the document, my eyes widening. “But…I don’t understand. Why do I need to sleep? Who are my spouses? And who do I need to help?”

“Are you faithful, Aoifa?” He demanded. “Will you submit to your God’s will?”

“Of course, my Lord.”

“Then sign,” She purred, handing me a pen. “And help us save our daughter.”

I signed my name on the bottom of the contract.

Sleep overcame me.

I fell into a pleasant dream.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mark Glassner

I lifted Aoifa’s sleeping body. She was a gorgeous, a curvy redhead. I always did love redheads. Mary walked beside me, waving her hand and creating Aoifa’s bower. I sat her down amid the bushes on a pillow of soft moss.

Mary and I would save Chase’s soul. We would set her free from the pain and suffering we drove her to.

Pieces had to be preserved. Aoifa was the last, and in someways the least important. We had examined the future. So much death awaited mankind. Everything was breaking down. All the logistics we had set up to transport food and medicine across the world would be destroyed. Doug and Tina call us Tyrants as they preach against us in Rome, but their actions to free mankind would cause so many deaths.

Mary placed a single, white lily on Aoifa’s chest.

“You are spoiling them,” she said with a fond smile.

“Maybe,” I shrugged. “But they’ll need her.”

The plants grew, covering Aoifa, protecting and hiding her while she slumbered and dreamed. The power of the summoning waned. Our brief freedom from Hell was over. I glanced back at Canyonville where our followers died.

So many new souls were falling into Hell.

I took Mary’s hand and we crossed back over into the Shadows. We stood in the top-most layer of the Abyss. So close to the real world that you could almost touch it. From here we plotted. We spied. We moved our pieces.

“She hurts, Mark,” Mary whispered. “Can you feel her pain?”

I relaxed my control, reaching out my senses and touching Chase. Our daughter’s soul was full of black vile. Guilt consumed her, devoured her. Chase had been driven to kill us to set men free. She sacrificed her soul to give them freedom. How they squandered her gift.

Free will was a double-edge sword.

Mary and I moved through the Shadows in a blink of the eye. We found our daughter sitting on the edge of a waterfall. She was still beautiful, with Mary’s heart-shaped face and freckles, framed by auburn hair. But she had my blue eyes.

Mary reached out, trying to touch our daughter.

Her hand passed through Chase.

“We’ll save you,” I whispered to my daughter. “We’ll set you free.”

Sunday, May 2nd, 2055 – Chasity “Chase” Glassner – Yolo County, CA

I turned forty-one today. I still looked eighteen, but I felt one hundred. My soul had been worn thin by nearly a year of witnessing the fruits of my sin.

The sun rose behind me, peaking over the snow-capped mountains of the Sierra Nevada. The water rushed below in the canyon, splashing merrily as it flowed down to the American River. I didn’t know the name of this tributary. I really didn’t care.

I hated that it was happy.

A year ago, I had saved the world and destroyed my soul.

I had plunged the Mispach, a cursed dagger forged by Cain, into my father’s side. I still remembered the look of astonishment on his face, his blue eyes widening, as he realized his beloved daughter had stabbed him. Those blue eyes were burned into my mind.

Worse, he didn’t even hate me.

Tears blurred my vision.

He forgave me with his dying breath. My father was a tyrant. A bastard. He and my mother had enslaved the entire world. He had to be stopped. Mankind had to be free to make their own destiny. They couldn’t be controlled by a false god.

But as evil as my father was, he still loved me.

And I killed him.

I should have died that day. I was supposed to die that day.

I was bound to my father, my soul chained to him like the rest of my family. My half-brothers and half-sisters, my grandparents, my aunts and uncles, the sluts, the maids, the bodyguards, the family friends. Even my mother was bound to him in her own way. When he died, so did they.

Why didn’t I die?

I should be in Hell suffering with them. I owed it to them. They had to die, and I had to pay for my actions.

Instead I was cursed. I didn’t die. I had to witness all the horrors my actions had unleashed.

My parents may have enslaved all of mankind with their mind control, but at least it had been peaceful. The only deaths were from illness, old age, and accidents. No one murdered, raped, assaulted, stole, or betrayed. Now the world was consumed in violence. A dozen religions had sprung up, and they all wanted to erase the tyranny of my parents. So many people still faithful to my parents had been put to death. Wars were fought.

And the world dwindled.

So much destruction and chaos ruled. It was like the last forty years of repression had exploded in an orgy of violence.

There was so much blood on my hands. I gave mankind back its freedom, and they abused it. Were my parents right? Was I wrong to to kill them?

I wiped at my tear-filled eyes. They were my fathers eyes. Everyone said I looked like my mother, the same auburn hair, the same heart-shaped, freckled face. Our breasts were even about the same size and shape. Mother never aged. We looked more like sisters than mother and daughter. But I had my father’s blue, piercing eyes.

He had stared up at Mother and me as he died, drinking in our faces. A sob rocked my body.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” I whispered.

Below, the river babbled happily on, unconcerned about my suffering.

I stood up, staring down into the ravine. It was a blue ribbon below, frothing as it leaped playfully over the rocks. The banks were lined with green vegetation. Off to the west, it merged with the wider American River, flowing past the city of Sacramento, the Capital of the Provence of California, on its trip to the Pacific Ocean.

“I should have died with them!” I screamed. I shouted this so many times over the last year. I stared up at the heavens. “Why didn’t you let me die? Why do you curse me to still wander the world!”

I hated the Creator.

“I did my part! I restored your damn Priests and Priestesses! I killed my parents for you! Haven’t I sacrificed enough? Haven’t you used me enough? Just let me die!”

I was changed that day two years ago on the real Mount Sinai when I became the Prophetess. Now I had this damn power inside me. I could flash across the world, riding the Light like an angel. I could fight demons. I could speak and be understood in any language.

“Please!” I begged, my feet inching towards the cliff. “Please, let me die this time! Let me see my parents! Let me beg their forgiveness! You owe me that much!”

A rock fell off the edge, smacking into the cliff face with a loud crack as it tumbled down to the river below.

“I’m through serving you! Let Doug and Tina carry this mantle! They enjoy their new power!” The pair ruled the new Christian church from Rome, guiding the purification of the world. It was so brutal.

The Creator did not answer me.

I threw myself off the cliff anyways.

Pain flared as I struck the cliff face like the rock had, bouncing down to the water. Pain flared in my arm. Blood spurted from a gash in my arm. Crimson blood fell with me, raining towards the river below. I closed my eyes, praying to face eternity.

I struck the water.

Golden light engulfed me.

Darkness overcame me.

I drifted, tumbling through pain, suffocating. My lungs burned. My world spun. I drank in the pain, welcomed my punishment. I needed to suffer. I needed to pay. I was a terrible person. I killed my entire family to save the world.

I was lost, my mind sinking into fond memories. There was a time when I was happy, so many decades ago. I had been with my family, making love to my parents, to my grandfather. I had an army of sexy maids that catered to my every want.

It was that damn book’s fault. On Liberty. It poisoned my mind with thoughts of freedom. But if I never found out my parents weren’t gods but just regular people, I never would have rebelled so fiercely. I never would have wandered aimlessly all those years.

I wish I could go back to those innocent times. I yearned to be fresh and clean. I would be happy with my parents. Mankind wouldn’t be descending back into barbarism and brutality. The world would be perfect.

There was something soft beneath my cheek. Sunlight warmed my back.

I opened my eyes.

I lay on a sandy bank, my legs still in the river. I groaned. My entire body ached as my Prophetess powers slowly healed my wounds. I didn’t seem to have any broken bones. I must have been unconscious for a few days. The river was far wider than the one I had thrown myself into. I had reached the American River proper.

My hand went to my neck. The locket was still there. I let out a shudder as I cupped it in my hand. It was my mother’s, made of silver, a rose sculpted on the front. Father gave it to her the day they met. She loved it so much.

I never opened it.

I stood up, my boots squelching as water was forced out. I shivered, my clothes wet on my skin. I stripped, taking off the tough jeans, the cotton sweater, torn in a few spots, and my black shirt. I sprawled onto my back, my stomach rumbling as I stared up at the blue sky, letting the sun dry off my naked body.

My perky breasts rose, topped by dusky nipples and dusted with freckles. My pubic hair was bushy and bright red. I hadn’t kept it shaved in a year. My auburn hair was a tangled mess, spread out like red vines around me.

A city was across the banks, smoke rising all around it. I didn’t see any cars moving. There weren’t many cars in the Theocracy. My parents’ commands kept people from even desiring to travel. The majority of the world’s citizens lived within a walking distance of their works. Why did they need cars? Besides teamsters transporting goods, only government and religious officials needed vehicles.

The shadows moved beside me.

I blinked, sitting up.

My eyes widened. The shadows moved, forming into a large beast, like a massive mastiff the size of a horse. Snake-like appendages grew from its back, writhing and undulating as it stalked towards me. Burning, red-yellow eyes fixed on me, coarse, thick hair sprouting from its back. It wavered as it moved, shimmering like an inverse mirage.

“Wh-what the fuck are you?” I gasped. “St-stay away, demon!”

I scrambled on the sand, my heels digging into the soft, wet turf. The shadow advanced, loping with a pink tongue lolling from its mouth. It licked its chops and fear filled me. This thing would eat me. Kill me.

It would kill me…

I froze.

A smile crossed my face. I laid back, spreading my arms and legs wide. “Take your meal, demon.”
It paused, inhaling deep through its nose. My surrender puzzled it. The demon’s entire body, except its head, went still. Its head slowly scanned, looking for any threats.

“Don’t be afraid. You can eat me,” I purred, growing excited. Maybe I couldn’t kill myself, but a big demon could eat me.

The demon took a cautious step, its paw sinking into the sand. Despite it’s immaterial appearance, it did have a physical presence. That was heartening. It drew closer, its breath rolling hot over my leg as its tongue licked my ankle.

“I taste good,” I moaned. “Come on, eat me.”

It licked again, and then it opened its mouth, teeth sharp, and bit.

Golden light flashed. The demon whimpered, leaping back from my leg. It growled, the bristles on its back standing up stiff, its tentacles writhing faster. Disappointment soured me. My stupid Prophetess powers had protected me again.

The demon lunged again, darting in, its tongue licking up my leg. I shuddered, it was hot, caressing my skin. A rush of sensations trembled through me. My nipples hardened and my pussy flushed wet.

What was happening?

The demon licked again, sliding its tongue up my thigh, drawing nearer to my wet pussy. I shuddered, opening my eyes in delight. He was so close to caressing my suddenly aching pussy. I hadn’t even thought of sex in a year.

And now I was suddenly so horny, my blood pounding.

“What are you doing to me?” I gaped as its tentacles lunged out, wrapping about both my wrists, pinning them to the ground. “Stop teasing me and eat me!”

The shadow obeyed, just not the way I meant.

Its long, pink tongue swiped through my pussy folds. I shuddered. It was so much larger than a man’s, covering my entire pussy as it licked, rough and hot. I gasped as it caressed my clit. The tongue seemed to take an eternity to take the lick, my body bucking.

“No,” I gasped. “Not that! What are you doing?”

The shadow fixed its fiery eyes on me. There was lust in its eyes.

No, his eyes.

A huge cock emerged from beneath his body, black and thick, throbbing with desire. This demon was definitely male.

“Oh, shit!” I gasped, my pussy clenching at the thought of that monster invading me. “You have to stop, demon! This isn’t right!”

The demon didn’t care. The shadow licked again, his tongue dipping into my pussy, stirring me up. I groaned, my hips bucking into his lick. The pleasure was intense and wonderful. The shadow licked again, driving his tongue deep into my pussy, fucking me for a moment. My sex-deprived body responded.

“Oh, wow!” I groaned as the shadow devoured me. He licked passionately, his tongue writhing about, caressing every bit of my folds. He tongue brushed my asshole, sliding all the way up to my clit. My perky breasts jiggled as I bucked, pinned down by a pair of his tentacles. “Oh, yes!”

I didn’t care that it was a horrid demon eating my pussy. I just wanted the pleasure. It was wonderful. I felt so alive. The shadow growled as he feasted, shoving his snout against my pussy, driving his tongue deep into my sheath as his nose nudged my clit.

I bucked, my pleasure swelling inside me. I was about to erupt. I let myself go, letting the demon ravish my pussy and give me such pleasure. A shudder wracked my body, my hands bucking against his tentacle restraints as every muscle inside me tensed.

My orgasm exploded.

“Yes!” I screamed, tossing my head back. “Oh, yes! Eat me! Devour me! Oh, yes! Your tongue is wonderful!”

The shadow kept licking me, growling and whining as he feasted. His tongue fucked me, my pussy spasming on the hot, agile organ. I shuddered, my mind hammered by the bliss shooting through me. I never wanted it to stop. I just wanted to be lost to the pleasure.

More tentacles lashed out, caressing my body, sliding up to my breasts. A pair wrapped around each tit, working up to my hard nipples. I groaned as they played with my nipples, flicking and rubbing, the electricity shooting down to my cumming pussy.

“Play with my tits! Oh, fuck! You’re a stud! Oh, yes! Eat me, Shadow!” That was his name. Shadow. I just knew it. “Play with my tits and eat me! Oh, yes! I love it!”

Nothing mattered but the pleasure the demon gave me. I spread my legs wide, letting Shadow ravish me with his tongue. Another tentacle slid down my leg, reaching for my ass. It prodded at my wet sphincter. I shuddered as it wormed inside, fucking my ass as Shadow’s tongue plunged in and out of my pussy.

I shuddered, another orgasm sweeping through me. Stars danced before my eyes. The pleasure was intense and satisfying. I never wanted this beast to stop devouring me. He could ravish me as long as he wanted.

“No!” I moaned when he pulled his snout away, his pink tongue licking my juices from his chops. Shadow’s cock throbbed. I understood. “Yes! Fuck me!”

The tentacles wrapped around my body lifted me up, spinning me about. I knelt on the sand, wiggling my ass at him. Shadow was a beast, a demon-dog, and he wanted to take me like his bitch. I looked over my shoulders, lusting after that thick cock.

“Come on and fuck me!” I snarled. “Shove that demon-cock right up my tight pussy. I need it! You’ve made me so horny, Shadow!”

Shadow’s lips curled almost into a fierce smile. His teeth were sharp, but I knew he couldn’t hurt me. Wouldn’t hurt me. He just wanted to pound me. My pussy clenched, my juices trickling down my thighs as his tentacle continued to work in and out of my ass.

Shadow mounted me. His hide was leather and rough, his claws sharp as they grazed my back. He growled as he was atop me, his thick cock nudging at the entrance of my pussy. I closed my eyes, my body burning for this taboo coupling.

“Fuck me!” I moaned, pushing back my hips, struggling to get his cock inside me.

His tentacles tightened on my tits, squeezing them hard as they batted at my nipples. A second tentacle wormed into my ass, spreading me open. The burning bliss shot right to my empty pussy. I needed to be filled.

Shadow thrust.

“Yes!” I howled, joining his loud growls.

His cock was massive. My pussy screamed in pain and pleasure. He was tearing me open, stretching me out. I shuddered, the ecstasy of agony and bliss washing through me. I squeezed down on my pussy as he pushed more and more of his cock into me.

I loved it.

“Fuck me!” I groaned as he bottomed out against my cervix. “Ravish me, Shadow. I’m your bitch!”

Shadow drew back and slammed into me. I grunted, my fingers digging into the sand as a wave of hot bliss shot through my body. The tentacles worked harder in and out of my ass, stirring up fiery pleasure as his monster cock reamed my pussy.

He fucked me harder and harder, my pussy stretching, the pain fading as I accommodated his demon cock. I threw my head back, bucking my hips back into his hard thrusts. Heavy balls slapped my clit, full of his demonic seed.

“Yes!” I grunted. “Oh, yes! Oh, fuck me! Pound my cunt! I need it! Ravish me! Oh, fuck! I haven’t been fucked like this in…”

I had never been fucked like this.

Shadow grunted and growled, his tentacles caressing my entire body as his cock plunged in and out. His hips kept thrusting faster and faster, my pussy taking his cock with ease now. The pleasure swelled inside me. I shuddered and bucked as I came.

And he kept hammering me.

I kept cumming.

“Oh, fuck! Yes! Fuck me, demon! I love your cock! Oh, fuck!”

My juices gushed out, squirting around his huge cock and pouring down my thighs. My pussy writhed about the cock as my orgasms kept rolling through me. My muscles burned as they spasmed over and over.

I howled, my words lust as the pleasure consumed me. His cock swelled inside me, the tip growing larger and larger, stretching me out even more. I shuddered, my pussy aching with the vigor of his strokes. It was a wonderful ache.

Shadow howled.

His cock spasmed.

Hot demon cum flooded my pussy.

His cock throbbed with every blast of his cum. Over and over he flooded me. It poured out of me, rushing down my thighs. I didn’t think a cock could cum so much. Shadow grunted with each explosion, his hips thrusting, driving the cock’s tip against my cervix. His tentacles squeezed me so hard, my breasts aching and my nipples on fire.

Another orgasm surged through me. My pussy squeezed down, milking his cock. I wanted to drain his balls. The last blast of cum poured into me. I shuddered, my orgasms dying down as I knelt beneath him. I sucked in deep breaths.

Shadow’s tongue licked my face to my lips. I turned my head, opening my mouth and let him kiss me.

And then he vanished.

I collapsed, my pussy suddenly empty. I gasped and shuddered, my body covered in sweat and cum. The air reeked of salty sex. I shivered as the last of the pleasure ran through me, running my fingers through my pussy lips and pulling out wads of his black cum. I licked my fingers, savoring the salty seed.

I laid there for an hour, recovering from my bliss.

Finally, I sat up and walked into the gentle current of the river, letting it wash me clean. My stomach ached. I wanted to find food. I drank from the river—I didn’t fear any sickness—and dressed. I needed new clothes. Other than my tough, faded jeans, my clothes were ruined, rips exposing my flesh.

I climbed up the bank and looked around. Sacramento was to the south. I didn’t want to go that way. Around the city were fields sprouting green. A highway was nearby. I climbed up on it. No cars trundled by but a sign read Davis.

It lead away from Sacramento.

Davis. I liked that name.

I walked north on the highway.

The highway led over a huge, flooded field that stretched for miles. Farmers worked in the flooded water amid green stalks shooting out of the dirty, artificial lake. They were rice paddies. The highway ran over the miles-wide paddies, brown water lazily flowing beneath it.

On the horizon, a small town lay. Davis.

I kept walking. My feet always itched. I had spent most of my life wandering aimlessly. I was comfortable walking. My despair had been banished, my body still riding high on all the endorphins of sex.

My pussy ached at the memory of Shadow’s cock.

I missed the demon. At least he would be pleasant company. No talking. No questioning. No awe when he realized I was the blessed St. Chasity Alberta Glassner, slayer of the Tyrants, savior of mankind and all the other garbage the Christians spouted about me. Shadow was just ravishing passion. It was hard to dwell on how much I hated myself when I was awash with so much bliss.

The sun began to sink towards the horizon as I reached the other end of the causeway. I passed a few people walking or riding on horses, their clothes patched and worn. I nodded to them, glad no one recognized me.

Some places did. A few cities still broadcast television signals, and my face had been plastered over all of their broadcasts after my parents’ deaths. Their gloating sickened my stomach. One channel even broadcast the degradation of my families’ corpses.

My throat was parched by the time I crossed the bridge. I should have at least worn my backpack when I threw myself off the cliff. At least then I would have my canteens and trail rations, and maybe a change of clothes.

Well, I would find new clothes in Davis. Northern California seemed to be fully Christian with only smattering of my parent’s worshipers. I heard Southern Oregon was the opposite. A week ago, rumors whispered that an army of Christians was pacifying Southern Oregon.

“Bringing the good word to those sinners!” the old man had laughed when he told me.

The density of the houses grew as I walked into Davis. Many were old, built before my parent’s took over. The West Coast remained mostly untouched by the Demon Wars. The streets were tidy, but every so often I’d see a house with an overgrown lawn, windows boarded up, and a note nailed to the door.

The occupants had been condemned for staying faithful to my parents.

People walked down the streets, the women in their best dresses, the men in their best clothes, their hair combed, their hands washed. Children skipped beside parents. They gave me a look, frowning at my disheveled appearance and torn clothing.

None offered to help me.

Before my parents’ death, these people would have gladly helped me even without knowing who I was.

I followed the growing crowd converging on a park, a large, cement slide dominating one corner, a large field dotted with trees covered another. It was such a picturesque park, dotted with benches for families to enjoy a barbecue. The remains of a torn down statue, probably of my parents, rested in the center.

And before it was built a pyre, a woman tied to it.

Another true believer of my parents.

The mob gathered around her, yelling and screaming. Even from a distance, I could tell the woman was young and scared. She was Hispanic, her hair black as night. She was yelling, but I couldn’t hear her shouts.

I headed closer. It was so wrong to kill her because of her belief. She should still be allowed to worship my parents. She had that right, that choice. These people were just as wrong as my parents. My apathy of the last year was gone, the demon’s rutting had shocked me back into living.

I pushed forward, garnering dirty looks from the people. A priest was at the front, dressed in black robes, something dangled about his neck—maybe a crucifix. He held a torch, waving it in the air.

My heart beat faster.

“This woman lay with the false gods!” the Priest roared. “She had carnal knowledge with the Tyrants!”

The crowd let out a roaring boo, rocks flying out from the crowd to strike the woman on the pyre.

“She spreads lies, promising the return of the Tyrants! What should we do with a harlot like this?”

“Burn her!” roared the crowd.

The priest threw the fiery brand onto the pyre.

“No!” I shouted, my voice lost to the roar.

“They will come back!” screamed the young woman. “They are Living Gods! They spoke to me and promised me great rewards for my faithful work! Repent of this folly! Remember the loving Gods! Remember how you were a year ago! Loving your neighbors! Loving each other! We weren’t beasts!”

“You’re the beast!” roared the Priest “You’re the filthy whore!”

“Not so filthy for you last night!” the woman shrieked as the fire lapped up to her feet. She struggled, her face twisting in pain as the fire grew.

A pair of babies cried.

I reached the front of the crowd. The young woman’s dress caught fire, the greedy flames licking up her flesh. Her piteous screams merged with the pair of young infants laid out on a table before the pyre, both naked and squalling, their skin light brown. The woman looked at them, focusing on them instead of the fire consuming her.

“And what should we do with her brats?” the Priest demanded. “These children are his! The Tyrant spawned them on this whore!”

“Burn them!” the crowd roared.

“No!” the burning woman shrieked, her body half-engulfed by hungry orange and reds. “You promised me! You promised they would be spared.”

The Priest grabbed one.

“No! Not my babies! Not my Rex and Reina!”

I rushed forward, darting from the crowd and ripped the infant from the Priest’s hand. The child was a boy, crying so fiercely. His eyes were blue. Like mine. Like our father’s. My half-sister squalled on the table, her little legs kicking. I seized her before the Priest could react, the man stunned by my action.

“Who are you to stop this righteous work?” the Priest screamed, spittle flying.

The crowd roared behind me, rocks flying, striking my back. I turned, cradling my siblings as their mother died. I tapped into that hated power inside me. I let the Light burst from me in a shining display.

“I am Chasity!” I roared, my voice carrying loud, silencing the crowd.

The Priest gaped at me, his hand trembling. “Is it really you, Holy Saint?” he gasped in awe, falling to his knees.

My siblings kept wailing as the crowd prostrated before me.

I hated them almost as much as I hated myself.

“It’ll be okay,” I whispered to my half-siblings. “It’ll be okay.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Isabella Floracita

I glimpsed the Holy Daughter’s face seizing my son from Caleb’s hand. I had known Caleb all my life, but he condemned me to death. No one defended me, not even my family. But I was faithful. I knew I would have my reward.

I knew Chasity would protect my children. It was all part of Their plan.

And then the fire fully engulfed me.

The pain was unimaginable. I burned.

And then I was falling, falling, falling.

Into darkness.

The darkness gave away to a soft caress on my right cheek, a warm light on my left. I shifted, more soft caresses touched my naked body. I rolled onto my back, my eyes opening. A beautiful, blue sky was above me, a gentle breeze wafting about my naked body.

For a brief instance, a black chain flashed about my neck, leading off towards…

“The mansion?” I whispered in shock.

I sat up, looking around. It was Their mansion. The happy week I had spent here before I had sacrificed my virginity to my God flooded into me. I laughed in delight, shifting on the soft grass of the field.

“I’m in Heaven,” I laughed, falling back onto the grass.

A shadow fell across me. “It’s not quite Heaven,” a woman purred.

“Sakura?” I asked at the Japanese maid. She was petite, dressed in the skimpy maid’s outfit, the blouse gauzy, her small breasts and dark nipples bleeding through the fabric.

“Hello, Isabella. How nice to see you.” She held out her hand to me. “They’re waiting for you.”
“Who?”

“Mark and Mary,” the maid laughed. “Who else?”

“So this is Heaven.”

“Hell,” Sakura corrected as she hauled me up. “But they’ve been improving the place since we died.”

“There’s definitely a lot less fire and brimstone,” I giggled. “At least, that’s what Caleb claimed Hell was like.”

“Oh, there was,” Sakura nodded. “When we arrived, it was this blasted land of red rocks, this horrible wind blowing. And there was this ugly city of Brass.” Sakura made a face, sticking out her tongue. “It was tacky. So Mark and Mary made it into their mansion instead.”

“Wow,” I smiled as we walked. Other maids and the gardeners strode the grounds, the bodyguards watching the entrances, and we passed couples making love in the shades of trees, mostly women, but there were a few men.

“We do spend a lot of time making love,” Sakura giggled as we passed the Holy Vizier Sam fucking her wife Candy doggy style. Sam’s olive skin rippled as she pounded Candy with her thick cock—Sam could grow a cock somehow—and Candy gasped and moaned her enjoyment.

“Hey, Sakura,” Sam moaned. “I see the plan is moving along perfectly.”

“Plan?” I asked.

“Your death.” Sakura patted my shoulder. “It was necessary to save Chase.”

“I’m Theirs,” I breathed. “I would die for them. I mean, I did die for them.”

“And they want to reward you,” a new voice said.

The Holy Slut Alison lounged in the doorway, naked, her round breasts pierced by a pair of silver barbells. I blinked in surprise. She had a tattoo above her shaved pussy that read, “Cum on in,” with an arrow pointing down at her clit.

“You never did get to go down on me,” Alison smiled when she saw my eyes locked on her succulent pussy. “You will. But Master and Mistress want to reward you first.”

“I look forward to it, Holy Slut,” I bowed.

“You don’t need to be so formal here,” Alison laughed. “I’m sure you’ll loosen up in a day or so. When Master’s finished with you, come find me. I’ll lick your pussy clean.”

My cheeks blushed and my pussy grew moist. “I would like that, Holy Slut.”

“You’ll more than like it,” Alison promised.

Sakura nodded her head in agreement.

We walked the same path I traveled the day I lost my virginity. My heart fluttered. I felt just as scared and virginal now as I did then. All the strength I had found the last year, all the determination to spread the word of the Living Gods’ promise seemed gone.

I was a scared, excited girl again.

A pair of bodyguards lounged outside their door. “There she is,” grinned one, a choker tight about her neck, her heavy, ebony breasts about to spill out of her top. “We’re all so grateful for your sacrifice.”

I blushed again.

“They’re waiting for you.” The bodyguard pushed the door open onto the sitting room.

It was the same as I remembered. There even was a TV next to the shelf of movies. Another door lay beyond—Their bedroom. I trembled as I walked forward, reaching the door, knocking politely.

“Oh, just go in,” laughed Sakura, opening the door and giving me a push. “They know you’re here.”

The Gods lounged on the bed, the Goddess’s auburn hair fanned out over His chest. His cock rose hard before his rippling abs. I gasped in delight, my pussy clenching at the memory of His girth stretching me out.

“You are just gorgeous,” the Goddess purred, beckoning with Her hand.

I drifted to the bed, taking Her soft hand and letting Her pull me between them. The Gods cuddled up to me, Their hands stroking my stomach. I shuddered, warm thrills racing through me as They caressed and played with my body.

“We’re sorry,” He whispered. “But you’re hardly the first person I’ve selfishly killed for my family.”

“It’s okay,” I smiled. “I’m yours. I’m happy to die to restore Chase’s happiness.”

“Thank you,” She whispered, tears beading in Her eyes. “But you will be rewarded. What do you want?”

“Want?”

“You can have your own realm to rule in Hell, your own servants. You can have lovers, slaves. Men or women. Whatever your heart desires,” He promised.

“I just want to be yours,” I smiled, Their hands sliding up to caress my breasts.

“You want to be our slut?” the God asked.

“You want to be our whore who will do whatever depraved, naughty act we want?” the Goddess purred, nuzzling my neck.

“Yes,” I moaned. “So much. I dreamed of serving you.”

“Then you’re our slut, Isabella,” He said, His hand shooting between my legs to rub at my wet pussy.

“Thank you, my Lord!” I gasped.

“Master?” She corrected. “He’s Master, and I’m Mistress.”

Master’s fingers shoved into my pussy. “Yes, Mistress!” I gasped. “I’m your slut now!”

“You’ve earned it,” he growled.

“And my children?” I moaned. “Our children, Master?”

“They will help save Chase. They will give her purpose again.”

“She’ll live because of them,” Mistress purred, her fingers playing with my hard nipples. My breast milk leaked out. She brought her stained fingers to her lips, her green eyes flashing as she sucked my milk from my fingers. “They’ll keep her in place until the right time.”

“Right time?”

Master kissed me, his tongue thrusting into her mouth. I moaned, shuddering for joy. Mistress leaned over, her mouth latching onto my nipple. She suckled, my breast milk squirting into her mouth. I moaned and gasped, hugging her tight as she nursed.

My pussy squeezed down on Master’s fingers reaming me. I shuddered, my pussy aching as delight burned through me. His touch was divine, stirring me up. I groaned and bucked, my breasts jiggling in delight. He caressed me, stirring up such wonderful pleasures. My toes curled.

His lips left mine, kissing down to my breast. He joined Mistress, suckling hard. My eyes widened as the pleasure tingled from my nipples down to my pussy. I loved nursing my masters. I clenched down on his probing fingers. His thumb brushed my clit.

“Oh, yes, Master!” I gasped. “Oh, wow! Please, don’t stop!”

They suckled harder, my milk squirting into their lips. They swallowed my creamy treat, hungry for it. My hips arched. My pleasure swelled. I let out a loud howl as my orgasm burst through me. The pleasure filled my body. I shuddered, lost to the rapture.

“Yes, yes, yes!” I gaped. “Oh, that’s it! Thank you, Master! Thank you, Mistress.”

“Mmm, was it a good one?” Mistress asked, her lips moving to mine, stained with my breast milk.

I nodded my head right before she kissed me. I flicked my tongue out, tasting my sweet, melony milk on her lips. It was so wicked. I shuddered one last time, a last surge of delight shooting through me.

Master moved between my thighs, rubbing his hard cock against my pussy lips. I trembled in anticipation. I couldn’t wait for him to fill me up. I moaned into Mistress’s kiss as he thrust into me. I gasped in delight, my pussy filled to the brim.

Mistress broke the kiss.

“Yes, Master!” I gasped. “Fuck my pussy!”

“Is your slutty cunt loving my stallion’s dick?” Mistress hissed, staring into my eyes.

“Yes!” I screamed.

“She’s tight, Mare! Mmm, she’s as tight as the day I popped her cherry and knocked the little slut up.”

Mistress giggled wickedly, shifting and straddling my face. I licked my lips as her shaved, succulent pussy was lowered to my lips. I buried my tongue into her sweet, spicy snatch, my tongue swirling about, caressing all her parts.

“Oh, yes!” Mistress gasped. “Pleasure us both, slut!”

“Lick my wife’s cunt,” Master grunted, his strokes growing harder. “That’s it, cunt. Worship her pussy! Make her cum. I love watching my wife cum on a slut’s lips.”

Mistress let out a wicked laugh. “Fuck her hard! Pound her cunt. Oh, Mark, she moans every time you bottom out in her. The little whore is just dying to cum on your cock.”

I was. I bucked into Master’s thrusts, my pussy exploding with pleasure. His cock was amazing. I would be his slut. I would get to experience his cock and her pussy for the rest of existence. I wrapped my legs about his hips, humping harder.

“She’s an eager slut,” Mistress purred, grinding her hot pussy on my face. “Oh, yes! That’s it! Jab that tongue into my pussy’s depths!”

“Fuck, Mare!” grunted Master. “Her cunt’s so tight. I’m gonna flood her.”

“Do it! Cum in her, horny stallion! Give the little slut what she wants!”

They kissed noisily. Mistress shuddered atop me. Her pussy squirted juices into my hungry mouth as she writhed and moaned in Master’s lips. I made her cum. I drank down her cream, a ripple of pleasure shooting through my pussy.

I made my Mistress cum.

Now it was Master’s turn.

I squeezed down on his cock as he thrust in, eager for his cum. His heavy balls slapped into me, full of that delightful spunk I wanted so bad. I shuddered, my body writhing beneath him. I needed it. I needed their cum.

Master did not disappoint me.

“Fuck!” he grunted, thrusting his cock into my depths.

A hot flood pumped into me. I shuddered in delight. My pussy exploded, writhing about his cock. I pleasured both my Masters like a good slut. I gasped and moaned my delight.

I missed my children, but they would be with Chase. And one day I would see them again. I just knew it.

Until then, I would have a lot of fun.

To be continued…

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