The Devil’s Pact
by mypenname3000
edited by Master Ken
Copyright 2013, 2014

Chapter Forty-Two: Dreams

Visit my blog at www.mypenname3000.com.

General Olmos’s assassination of Governor Holt, and the subsequent massacre of the Governor’s supporters, was the first of many atrocities committed by the Tyrants. The fact that they had General Olmos hung does not exculpate the Tyrants for the heinous act the General had committed in their names. For all we know, the Tyrants ordered the massacre, and placed the blame solely on General Olmos to maintain their benevolent appearance to the masses. Either way, the outcome benefited the tyrants: the Governors of New Hampshire, Florida, North Dakota, Maryland, and Alaska capitulated to the Tyrants the next day, ending the last governmental resistance in the United States.
–excerpt from ‘The History of the Tyrants’ Theocracy’, by Tina Allard

Thursday, November 7th, 2013 – Mark Glassner – Children’s Hospital, Omaha, NE

Every Thursday, Mary and I traveled to a random children’s hospital in America and spent the day healing all the children stricken with terminal diseases we could. It was the most rewarding thing in the world; all the credit goes to Mary for the idea.

I entered the next sick child’s room; the little boy looked so pale as he lay on his tiny hospital bed, festooned with wires monitoring his vitals. He was young, maybe only four, and dying of a rare form of leukemia known as JMML. It was an acronym for a bunch of words I couldn’t pronounce. A beautiful woman in her early forties sat beside his bed, clutching his tiny hand. Her eyes lit up for joy when she saw me enter the room with my bodyguards.

“My Lord,” she gasped, falling to her knees in worship. “Thank you for your generosity!”

Her face shone with hope and, even without make-up, her dusky features were beautiful. She was middle-eastern, a desert rose, and my cock stirred at the sight of her on her knees. You could always count on a grateful mother to relieve some tension.

“What is his name?” I asked, walking to her son.

“Abbas,” she answered. “After his father, he…” She teared up with grief and I nodded; reaching out to place a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“A beautiful woman like you shouldn’t be crying,” I told her and she flushed. “What’s your name.”

“Shabnab. But everyone calls me Shay.” She wiped at her tears and tried to smile.

With one hand I held hers and with the other her son’s. I concentrated on the boy being well and said in a commanding voice, “Tsariy!” Scarlet light engulfed her son and she tensed with anxiety. Power drained out of me, but I had huge reserves to tap. I could draw on the life-force of every person bound to me by the Zimmah spell.

The light faded, and the little boy opened his eyes. “Maman!” the boy exclaimed, sitting up and smiling and bouncing on his bed. I couldn’t help smiling at his enthusiasm.

Shay hugged her son, speaking to him in a rapid, musical language—Arabic or Farsi I guessed. She kissed him over and over and the boy tried to wiggle away from her, embarrassed by her affection. She turned to me, beaming, “Thank you, my Lord!”

I grabbed her hand and led her towards the bathroom. “What?” she asked in confusion.

“You wanted to thank me,” I told her. “51 will watch your son.”

She flushed and shivered. “Of course, my Lord.”

51 was my chief bodyguard, and often protected me personally. Six weeks ago we survived Brandon’s attack together. She sat on the bed, giving the boy a hug and smiling motherly at him. 51 had recently found out she was pregnant, and she and her husband were both excited by the news. I was looking forward to drinking her milk from those lovely, ebony breasts.

Inside the bathroom I ordered her to strip. She pulled off her frumpy sweater and the black t-shirt she wore underneath. She had a large pair of breasts that sagged a bit when she freed them from her bra; her areolas were huge, brown, with fat nipples that rose proudly up. Her loose skirt came off and she peeled out of dark pantyhose and white panties. Her bush was black as night and neatly trimmed, surrounding fat pussy lips. I could just see a hint of wet pink between her labias and my cock throbbed to experience her juicy depths.

“Thank you so much,” she breathed as I bent her over the sink.

Her cunt was wet as I plunged into her. She was loose, but warm and silky, and I fucked her hard. Her back was beautiful, her skin the color of dark cream, and I traced her spine. Her ass was a little plump, and jiggled as I pounded her. She looked over her shoulders at me and moaned wantonly.

“If you’re that loud your son will hear us,” I cautioned her, though I was pleased my cock elicited such a passionate response.

She flushed, her cunt nicely squeezing on my cock. She bit her lip, stifling her moan as I pounded her like a jackhammer. In the mirror, I could see her large tits as they swayed heavily. I reached around her and gave her breast a nice squeeze, enjoying the firm feel and silky skin. She had a spicy, cinnamon scent in her lustrious hair.

“Fuck you are one hot MILF!” I groaned. “You should fuck any young man that catches your eye!”

“I should,” she gasped in realization as the command sank in. “I’ve been so lonely since Fereydoon died.”

God, her tit felt great in my hand, soft and pliant. I pulled out of her and spun her around, sitting her plump ass on the sink. I buried my face into her big tits and plowed into her cunt. I enjoyed her heavy melons on my cheeks, smelling her sweat and that wonderful, cinnamon scent as her cunt massaged my cock. Her hips writhed, grinding her clit into my groin every time I buried into her.

She screamed wordlessly as she came, her cunt squeezing my cock. I gripped her ass, and thrust hard into her. My body tensed and I spilled my cum inside her cunt. I thrust a few more times, squeezing out the last few drops.

I rested with my face buried between her mounts, breathing heavily. She cradled my head, rocking slightly. “Thank you, My Lord,” she whispered. “For saving my son.”

I looked up; tears brimmed in her dark eyes, so I kissed her gently on the lips. “Your Gods love you,” I answered, pulling away, buttoning up my pants. “Go be with your son.”

She wiped at her tears, then bent down to pick up her panties.

I swept out of the hospital room, and came upon quite the lovely sight. Xiu, my busty Asian slut, was leaning against the wall dressed in a slutty nurse’s outfit. The top was undone and her round breasts hung out, obscenely stretched as the slut pulled on both of her nipple piercings. On the floor, one of the hospital’s nurses had her head buried beneath Xiu’s white miniskirt, vigorously eating Xiu’s pussy out.

“Master,” moaned Xiu. “Nurse Karishma was very insistent on eating my pussy! I hope that’s alright!”

My cock hardened at the sight. “More than alright, slut.”

The nurse had dusky-red skin and raven black hair. Her name sounded Indian – from India – and her skin and hair gave credence to that. I could see flashes of her dark eyes as she eagerly devoured the flood of tangy juices. Xiu’s almond-shaped eyes rolled into the back of her head as she shuddered on the slutty nurse’s face.

“Oh wow,” she purred, a contented smile playing on her lips.

“I think you should return the favor,” I whispered in Xiu’s ears. “Get down on your hands and knees and eat her ass out.”

Xiu gave me a passionate kiss; I could taste the orange she had been eating earlier. “You always have the best ideas, Master.”

“I know,” I smiled, giving her ass a squeeze.

Nurse Karishma remained kneeling on the ground as Xiu dropped behind her. The slut pulled the nurse’s lilac scrubs off her round ass. She wore no panties; her pussy shaved and glistening, a pink gash surrounded by dusky-red flesh. My Asian slut parted her cheeks and buried her face deep in the nurse’s delectable ass.

“Oh yes,” she moaned in a delightful, Hindi accent, that sounded like silk rubbing against my ears. “Eat my backdoor!”

Xiu’s own backdoor peeked out from beneath her white miniskirt. I knelt behind her and roughly shoved my unlubed cock up her ass. She gave a throaty moan. Xiu was a masochist, and she loved to be fucked hard in the butt as painfully as possible. I fucked her like the piston inside an engine and my foot was stepping hard on the accelerator.

Her grunts of pain and pleasure filled the hallway. I could smell her arousal grow, and I reached around her waist and felt the juices running down her thighs. She was loving every second of my brutal ass-fucking.

“Eat my ass!” the nurse gasped. “You disgusting slut! Revel in it, untouchable! Degrade yourself!”

Xiu’s ass spasmed on my cock! She screamed, cumming hard.

“What a filthy whore!” I groaned, and spanked her ass hard, a stinging slap that left my own hand smarting.

Xiu bucked harder between us, the spanking spurring her orgasm to higher levels of intensity. Her ass squeezed and pulsed about my cock, begging for a load of my cum. I landed a second slap on her ass, leaving a large, red handprint burning on her light-olive skin.

“I’m cumming!” moaned the nurse. “You disgusting, untouchable whore! You made me cum by eating my filthy ass!”

Xiu lifted her face up, looking over her shoulder at me. “Cum in my abused ass, Master!” she begged. “I need it!”

“Because you’re a filthy slut?” I demanded.

“The filthiest!”

I blasted her ass. Every muscle in my body tensed as I released my climax into the slut. I buried into her, letting her convulsing ass milk the last drops of cum out of my balls. I savored my release and the feel of her tight ass for a minute, before I pulled out. Her asshole gaped open, leaking frothy cum out.

“May I clean your cock, my Lord?” Nurse Karishma asked demurely. She had a beautiful face, mature, in her early thirties. Her dark eyes had a hungry look and her lips bore a sultry smile.

“Do it, slut,” I ordered.

She crawled on her hands and knees, her long, black hair dragging on the hospital’s floor. She grasped my cock, taking a long, slow lick up my shaft, savoring the sour flavor of Xiu’s ass. Her tongue scooped up a drop of cum from my urethra, then slid back down my shaft.

“My Lord, if I am not being too presumptuous, I would like to ask a boon of you,” she murmured between licks.

“What, slut?” I asked the nurse.

“I want to serve you,” she answered. “Use me for your pleasure! Make me one of your maids!” Her mouth engulfed my cock and she deep-throated me in one, smooth motion. She hummed and swallowed, massaging my cock with wonderful sensations.

“You’re quite talented,” I moaned. “I think we can find a place for you.”

She popped off my cock, beaming up at me. “Thank you, my Lord!”

Xiu smacked her ass. “Don’t stop sucking his cock, whore!”

“Sorry!” she gasped, and engulfed my cock.

Xiu grasped the nurse’s head, giving me an apologetic glance, then my slut started fucking the woman’s face up and down on my cock. “I’ll see her properly trained, Master.”

“Good,” I moaned.

Watching Xiu force Karishma’s face on my cock brought me to a quick boil and I flooded her lips! Xiu quickly pulled her off my cock, and shoved her tongue inside the nurse’s mouth, eager to taste my cum.

“Whose the next child I’m healing?” I asked Xiu.

She broke the kiss, cum on her lips. “Jenny Peck, room 304.”

Jenny Peck was sixteen, and in desperate need of a lung transplant because of her Cystic Fibrosis. Her parents sat on one side of her hospital bed, watching their daughter as a respirator breathed for her. The mother was blonde, with a heart-shaped face and plump lips, and I smiled at her.

“My God,” her husband murmured and bowed.

“Oh, thank you,” the wife said in relief and knelt before me. “The doctors don’t think she has long to live.”

Her mouth was so close to my cock. I wanted to pull it out and have her suck on it. But her daughter was dying, so that could wait. I stepped around her and grabbed Jenny’s hand. She was harder to heal than Abbas, her lungs, liver and pancreas were all damaged by her condition. The color returned to her skin and a beautiful smile appeared on her lips.

“Oh my baby,” her father cried, hugging her.

“You healed her,” the mother whispered.

I smiled at her and unzipped my pants. She licked her lips, eyeing my hard cock. She glanced up at me – her eyes full of worship and her tongue pursed between red lips – then she leaned over and sucked the head of my cock into her lips.

“Good,” I murmured, enjoying her lips as she slowly bobbed her head.

“Mom!” Jenny gasped as her dad let out a strangled, “Irene!”

I glanced at them, shock painting their faces. “It’s okay. Irene is just worshiping me. You should be proud and happy for her.” I smiled as my commands sank in, and the husband and daughter relaxed.

The daughter was actually quite pretty now that the color had returned to her face, cheeks flushing and eyes sparkling as she watched her mother blow me. She looked a lot like her mother, although the eyes were different: the mother’s were green, the daughter’s blue. Dimples appeared in the thin cotton of her hospital gown as her nipples grew with arousal, fanning my lust.

“Have you ever had sex, Jenny?” I asked.

“No,” she answered. Her father nudged her. “I mean, no my Lord.”

Irene sucked harder, her hands cupping my balls. I gripped her blonde hair ,and started to slowly fuck her mouth. “Your wife gives great head.”

He smiled a little foolishly. “I’ve never had complaints, my Lord.”

I tried to force my cock down her throat and she stiffened. “Relax, slut,” I groaned. “Relax your throat so I can fuck your mouth!”

She relaxed and I forced my cock down her throat. Gripping her head between my hands, I fucked her vigorously. Her throat was tight, and felt wonderful on my cock. My balls slapped her chin, golden curls spilling through my clenched fingers. Jenny’s deep blue eyes were wide as she watched her mother be my whore.

“Let’s see those tits, Jenny,” I moaned.

“Um, okay, sure,” she muttered, looking away in embarrassment.

“What do you say,” her father admonished.

“Right, yes, my Lord,” Jenny sheepishly answered.

“I’m sorry, my daughter never learned proper manners, my Lord.” He grimaced. “We went easy on her because of her… Well, I guess we don’t have to anymore.”

She pulled her hospital gown over her head, exposing pale, budding breasts topped with dark-pink nipples. The nipples were so small, they were like little buttons. “I can always forgive a pretty, young girl,” I said, feasting on her youthful charms. “Let’s see your cunt.”

“Yes, my Lord,” she blushed, hooking her fingers through the waistband of her cotton panties, and pulled them off her coltish legs.

I came in her mother’s mouth as I saw her tight slit surrounded by golden curls. I let go of Irene, and she pulled off my cock, swallowing most of my large load. A glob of white spunk fell out of the corner of her mouth onto her thick sweater, and soaked into the fabric.

I grabbed Irene’s hand, and pulled the mother to her feet, turning her to face her daughter. “Isn’t she beautiful?” I asked her as I reached down to fondle her plump ass through her long, dark skirt.

“She’s my angel,” Irene whispered.

“Have you ever thought about spreading her pale thighs and tasting her innocent treasure?”

“I don’t under…oh.” Irene flushed crimson. “No.”

“Why not? Look at how beautiful her cunt is, surrounded by that forest of golden curls. I’m gonna fuck her; pop her cherry. Why don’t you use your mouth and get her nice and ready for me.”

“I…yes, my Lord,” she breathed, licking her lips and reaching out to stroke her daughter’s legs. “Momma will get you all wet and ready for him.”

“Just bend over and pull her to you,” I instructed as I rubbed her ass through her skirt.

She bent over the foot of the hospital bed, pulled her daughter to her, and spread her thighs. Her face was inches away and she breathed her daughter’s scent in, before burying her face into Jenny’s fresh snatch.

“Oh fuck!” Jenny gasped.

“Language, young lady,” reprimanded her dad.

“Really, dad?” Jenny rolled her eyes at her dad and shook her head.

I hiked up Irene’s skirt and was delighted to find her panty-free. A true believer. Her cunt was shaved save for a strip of blonde above her clit. But it wasn’t her pussy I was interested in. I spread her asscheeks opened and fingered her puckered hole.

“Ever been fucked in the ass?” I asked as I shoved a finger past the tight sphincter into her velvety depths.

“No, my Lord!” she squeaked as I violated her ass.

“Why haven’t you ever let your husband fuck your ass?”

“It’s dirty,” she answered.

I pushed the head of my wet cock against her asshole and pushed in. She moaned, squeezing tight on my ass as I sank in. I looked at her husband and told him, “When I’m done, your wife will be more than happy to give you sloppy seconds.” I gave her ass a slap. “Right, Irene?”

“Oh…um…yes, dear!” she panted, her voice tight with pleasure. “I’d be…uhhh…thrilled to!”

Her ass was tight and warm as I reamed her. I gripped her hips and shoved her hard against the teen’s hospital bed as I watched the mother devour her daughter’s pussy. Jenny writhed on the bed, gripping the bedsheets with one hand and her mother’s golden curls with the other.

“Oh, Mom!” she gasped. “Oh yes, that’s…ohhh…so amazing!”

She tightened her thighs about her mother’s head as she writhed in pleasure. Irene moved her lips around, exploring the delicate folds of her daughter’s teenage cunt while her ass squeezed hard on my invading cock. I stroked harder and faster, every rub of my cock’s head against her bowels built the growing pressure in my balls.

*Mark, are you staying on task?* sent Mary.

*Sure,* I sent back to my wife. We could communicate telepathically, thanks to the Siyach spell.

*Liar.* I could feel her amusement through the sending. *Who’re you fucking right now?*

Mary always seemed to sense when I was fucking through the sending no matter how hard I tried to keep the passion out of my thoughts. Of course, when you were buried in a woman’s ass that felt this amazing, it was hard to hide your passion. *Fucking a mother’s ass while she eats out her virgin daughter’s cunt.*

*I see why you got distracted.* There was a resigned edge to her thought. *And how many children have you healed?*

*Five,* I answered. *Including the teenage girl learning about the joys of mother-daughter incest.*

*After your finished, you have to heal ten children without taking a break. I’ll check with 51 to make sure.* That seemed more than a little bit unfair, but I knew 51 would side with Mary. Sometimes I regretted giving free-will back to the bodyguards.

*Yes, dear,* I promised.

Jenny gasped loudly, her body convulsing as an orgasm rippled through her. “Oh fuck, Mom!” she cried. “That was fucking awesome!”

Irene grinned at her, “Wait ’til you feel the second one, angel. And mind your language. We didn’t raise you to speak such filth!” Then she bent down and continued to vigorously eat her daughter out.

A suspicion formed in my mind. My wife was nearly as lustful a being as I was. *So Mare, how many children have you healed?*

*That’s not important,* she sent back, a hint of guilt in her thought.

*How many?* I pressed.

*Six,* she answered weakly. *I got sidetracked.*

*That’s my naughty filly!*

*Fine, we both have to heal ten children before indulging. Okay, my horny stallion?*

*Sure, Mare. Love ya.*

*Love you, too.*

I wonder whom my wife had fucked? A hot MILF with large tits? An innocent teen? Maybe it was a guy. An image of Mary riding another man’s cock floated up in my mind. Her perky breasts, swollen with her pregnancy, bouncing up and down, sweat rolling down her cute baby bump – she had just entered her second trimester – that was starting to show. There was something exciting about watching your wife be another man’s whore. A perverse thrill. I wondered if she felt the same thing when she watched me fuck another woman?

“Fuck!” I groaned. Thinking of my wife with another man sent my balls into overdrive and I creamed Irene’s ass. I pulled out and slapped her butt. “It’s your husband’s turn. Be a good, little whore for him.”

Irene looked up from her daughter’s cunt, sticky with her juices, and smiled. “Absolutely, my Lord!”

Jenny’s eyes apprehensively fell on my dirty cock as I mounted the bed. In the background, Irene moaned as her husband buried his cock into her sloppy ass. I climbed over the virgin teen, bent down and nipped at her bite-sized nipples, then I licked up her sweaty neck and kissed her lips. She was hesitant, unsure. I was her first kiss. It was as sweet as an ice tea on a hot summer day.

“Relax,” I whispered into her ear and instantly the tension melted out of her. “Relax, my little slut.”

“Okay,” she nodded and I kissed her again. Her tongue brushed my lips and her legs spread wantonly for me.

I guided my cock, still dirty from her mother’s ass, to her virgin hole. I rubbed it on her tight slit; enjoying the feel of her silky pubes on my dick’s head. She gasped as I buried half of my cock into her, pressing against her maidenhead. Fuck, I loved popping a girl’s cherry, they were just so rare. I rubbed her right nipple with my hand, letting the pleasure help to relax her, then I buried my cock into her. Her hymen tore like tissue paper, barely slowing my cock down.

“Holy shit!” she gasped; her cunt squeezed like a vice on my cock. “Holy fucking shit!”

“Language!” snapped her dad as he reamed her mom’s ass.

“Holy shit, holy shit!” she kept screaming as I pumped my cock inside her sopping cunt. Her eyes and cunt squeezed tightly as she came. “Oh my fucking shit!”

“Language, young lady! That’s your last warning!”

“You mind your father,” Irene panted. “Umm, go a little harder, Ernie! Crud, why didn’t we do this sooner!” The parents shared a sloppy kiss, and the wife purred, “That’s your daughter’s sweet pussy you’re tasting.”

“Shit,” he moaned.

“Language, dad!” Jenny exclaimed.

“I want to watch you make love to our daughter,” Irene moaned. “And then I’ll lick her all nice and clean!”

“Holy shi…shoot!” Ernie gasped and I was pretty sure he just blew his load.

Jenny gasped and clutched me tightly, thrusting her hips to meet my stroke. I really pounded her tight cunt and savored how delicious she felt. It was like plunging into a soft, juicy peach. Her fingernails raked my back and she came again, quick and fast, like a tiny firecracker, her tight cunt milking my cock.

“Fucking whore!” I grunted. “Your cunt’s fucking tight! Goddamn I love teenage pussy!” I spurted three large blasts into her youthful cunt and pulled out of her.

“Thank you, my Lord,” she whispered, her legs obscenely spread, my cum dripping pink out of her cunt. “For healing me, and for…you know.”

I gave her another kiss. “You’ll always remember the day you fucked a God,” I told her.

“I will,” she smiled, a tear glistening in her eyes. “You gave me back my life.” Her arms wrapped around me and she gently sobbed into my shoulder.

I held her for a few minutes then gently pulled away. “Why don’t you show your parents how much you love them,” I whispered in her ear. “Eat your mother’s ass out and let your daddy try out your cunt.”

“I will,” she smiled, sniffing.

I stood, straitening my suit, and walked out, followed by my bodyguards. The hospital was filled with the bodyguards and outside a company of the Legion – about 130 soldiers bound by the Ragily prayer – guarded the perimeter.

“Spectre, Spectre!” a voice suddenly crackled on 51’s radio.

Fear spiked in me “Where?” I demanded at 51, summoning my Celestial gold sword and armor.

“Sitrep!” 51 calmly said into the radio.

The bodyguards around me drew their weapons, scanning the hallway with care. Their guns were loaded with bronze bullets inscribed with spells by Candy. It was delicate, time-consuming work, and you could often hear Candy’s frustrated curses echo out of Sam’s suite. They were needed though, normal bullets were ineffective against spiritual entities like demons or Lilith’s foul offsprings.

I cautiously looked around. ‘Spectre’ was the codename for a demon attack. In the last week the Patriots had tried a new strategy: summoning lesser demons and sending them after Mary and I. They rarely got past the Legion. Outside, automatic gunfire erupted.

Lesser demons weren’t fallen angels, like Molech and Lucifer. Or even powerful human souls like Lilith. They were the souls or regular men and women twisted by their eons long imprisonment in Hell, tortured and twisted into soldiers by the Powers of Abyss to fight their never-ending wars. I gritted my teeth, anger boiling up at the Patriots. They were growing more and more bold. Innocent people could get hurt in these attacks. The sooner the Matmown was finished, the sooner we could make our plans against the Patriots and Lilith without fear of them spying on us from the Shadows.

Another burst of gunfire followed by excited squawks on the radio. “All clear,” 51 reported. “Spectre neutralized.”

I shook my head; these attacks were so pointless. The demons were outclassed. Thanks to the Ragily prayer, the Legion weapons could hurt demonic flesh without enchantments, and the demons never stood a chance against such firepower. I relaxed, about to dismiss my armor, when 51 paled, reaching for her handgun.

I spun around. Like smoke billowing out of a grate, the lesser demon materialized out of the wall a foot behind me, swinging his claws at my face. It was a lucifugi, a demon of night. Its body resembled black smoke, wavering beneath the hallway’s florescent lights.

I raised my arm, blocking the swipe easily on my vambrace. Then a quick slash with my sword parted the demon’s head and it fell to smokey pieces on the hospital floor. I stared down at the demon’s evaporating body, my heart pounding. If it had attacked just a second later, it would have caught me after I dismissed my armor and weapon.

Feeling paranoid, I kept peering around, not ready to drop my guard. This attack was smart, sending a decoy to attack the Legion, while a lone demon slipped in. Mary rushed around the corner, surrounded by her bodyguards, and hugged me. I relaxed, and let my armor dissolve away, showering my wife with golden sparks.

“Fucking Patriots,” I muttered.

“We need to do something about them,” Mary growled. I couldn’t agree more.

The rest of the day passed without incident. Between us, we healed sixty-one sick children. We gathered out in front of the hospital with all the children we healed so the photographers and news crews could record our benevolence. It helped to cement our grasp on the US and garnered sympathies world wide.

We extensively used the media to get as many people enthralled to us, and took other steps to get people under our power. We coordinated broadcasts with prisons around the US, commanding the inmates to obey the laws and to help improve their communities. Then we released them. Everyday, Federal offices across the country would hold live teleconferences with us, and it was mandatory that all their employees watch. We had seventy percent of the Federal Government’s employees under our power. Those that refused to come to work on the broadcast days were fired; their names given to the NSA to be monitored.

Our control was spreading across the US borders into Canada and Mexico as well, and even overseas to parts of Europe. It wasn’t going nearly so well in Asia and the Middle East, where the governments were cracking down on our followers. They ruthlessly were trying to stop the spread of my commands by shutting down their countries access to the internet and stopping local TV from carrying any foreign broadcasts.

And that didn’t even count the Warlocks sprouting like weeds across the world, causing all sorts of problems. Some were emulating me, on a smaller scale, taking over parts of Africa and South America. Others were just doing what they pleased, forming harems of women, or men. Some were killing indiscriminately and others were taking revenge on those that had slighted them in the past.

The First Commandment of our Theocracy: You shall not make Pacts with Demons. That’s why the President signed the Anti-Warlock Act. Anyone who had made a Pact with a demon, including Lucifer, were required to turn themselves in, be exorcised, and pardoned for their mistake. If not, they would be executed. Warlocks were too powerful to be allowed to roam free. I was hoping the death sentence would spur the Warlocks into turning themselves in, but none had, even after we executed the few, easy to find Warlocks.

Mary fell asleep on my shoulder in the back of our limo on the ride to the airport. Healing was tiring work, and Mary’s pool of bound people to draw on was smaller than mine. I put one arm around her shoulder and rested my other hand on her pregnant stomach, feeling her baby bump. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of my wife, the scent of her coconut shampoo masking a hint of sweat.

“Sir,” 51 whispered, gently shaking me. “We’re here.”

I must have fallen asleep. Mary still leaned against me and I kissed her forehead and shook her. She squirmed then opened her emerald eyes. “Are we at the airport?” she yawned.

“Yeah, Mare.”

Air Force One awaited us. Of course, the media also awaited us. We put on our regal personas as we stepped out of the limo. It wouldn’t do for the masses to learn that we were just regular people who grew tired. Reporters were yelling questions, asking about the latest Patriots attack.

“The Patriots claimed today’s attack was retribution for the Governor Mansion Massacre,” one reporter shouted.

I froze, anger flooding into me, followed by guilt. Mary’s arm wrapped around my waist and gave me a comforting squeeze. I had told General Olmos to take care of the Governor. I didn’t mean for him to execute the man on national television and order his soldiers to massacre a peaceful gathering.

“That was a zealous individual acting on his own,” I answered evenly. “As I said before. The Patriots will use whatever flimsy excuse they can to justify their terrorism.”

“If we had ordered the attack, we wouldn’t have ordered General Olmos’s execution for murder, would we?” Mary asked the media, her tone gentle and patient—a mother lecturing her children. “If we are the monsters the Patriots claim, than why do we spend one day a week healing sick children? We love all of you, even our wayward Patriots.”

That was a good line of bullshit. Mary was better than me at this. We gave the media a wave, and boarded our plane, ignoring the rest of their questions.

When the plane reached its cruising altitude, we retired to our private cabin. Mary quickly undressed and I admired the curves of her body. The pregnancy gave her skin a lustrous glow; my cock stirred with lust. Even the gentle swell of her baby bump was sexy. I reached out and caressed her hips, and I pulled her close to kiss her.

“I’m tired, Mark,” she murmured. I tried to hide my disappointment and she sensed it. “Sorry. I’ll make it up to you, okay.” She gave me a quick peck.

“Yeah,” I nodded. She did look exhausted. I turned to head to the cabin and to get some relief from Korina.

She climbed onto the bed. “Hold me,” she murmured. “I want to fall asleep in your arms.” I hid my irritated sigh and I snuggled up to her. She wiggled back into me and closed her eyes. “G’nite,” she murmured, already falling asleep.

My cock was hard, and her plump ass rubbing against me wasn’t helping. As I considered calling in Korina to relieve the pressure in my cock with a quiet blowjob, I fell asleep.

“Finally,” Mary said. “I was wondering how long you were going to stay awake. I was getting lonely.”

We were sharing a dream. I stood on a sandy beach, the sun warm on my back, with waves crashing behind her. She sat on a white, sandy beach in a skimpy, yellow bikini, her skin a golden tan, and her belly flat; she didn’t have to be pregnant in the dream. I smiled, noticing her ass looked a little skinnier. She always believed that her ass was a little fat. I thought it was perfect, just plump enough to squeeze.

I looked around for Azrael. I didn’t see the Angel lurking around.

“She’s not here, Mark,” Mary answered. “Sam and I figured out how to connect our dreams without needing Azrael.”

“Wow,” I said. “And damn you are hot in that bikini.”

She smiled and stood up, letting me get a good look at her tanned body. “I’ve always wanted to go to the beach with you. Like Hawaii. And make love in the sea.” She grinned, her delightful dimples creasing her cheeks. “I told you I’d make it up.”

“You did,” I grinned, my cock hardening as I drank in her body.

She dashed to the blue water, her ass swaying and jiggling beautifully as she ran, clad in the tight bikini. I chased after her into the warm water. Mary dived into the sea and came up, her dark hair damp as she treaded water. I swam after her, the water relaxing away all my cares. I caught my wife and pulled her to me and shared a salty kiss.

Her arms and legs wrapped around me as we kissed. We floated in the water and shared our love. I reached behind her back, and found the ties for her top. The bikini floated away atop the waves. Her breasts were the same golden tan and I bent down, letting the sea water engulf me as I captured her nipple.

“Oh Mark,” she moaned as she ground her crotch into my stomach.

Still sucking her nipple, I untied her bikini bottoms and let them float away. She grasped my head and pulled me off her breast and kissed me. Her tongue invaded my mouth, inflaming my lusts. I moaned as her hands shoved into my trunks, groping my dick.

We rocked in the waves as we kissed, my legs slowly kicking to keep our heads above the warm water. Her hand stroked my cock as my fingers found her plump ass, squeezing and kneading. My dick ached to be in her, and Mary seemed to sense my need, or maybe her pussy needed to be filled, because her hands pushed down my swimming trunks and her hips shifted, and she engulfed my cock to the hilt.

“Yes, yes!” she purred as she sank onto me, surrounding me in her spongy warmth.

As we fucked, we slipped under the waves, but that didn’t matter. It was a dream. We didn’t need to breath.

We floated in the bright blue of the ocean, coral glowing on the ocean floor and colorful fish zipping around us. We slowly spun about as the waves surged to the shore. Bubbles escaped our lips as we moaned, floating lazily to the surface. We writhed against each other, her cunt squeezing my cock with her familiar tight grip, and I could feel her passion grow as I fucked her. I knew just how to move to pleasure my wife.

We stared into each other’s eyes, lost in love. Her auburn hair floated about us, like the lazy tendrils of a sea anemone. Mary came first, bucking against me. Her cunt milked my cock, hungry for my cum. I reveled in the feel of her pussy, the tight friction bringing my balls to a boil. I came hard, tense pleasure surging out of me and into my wife.

I held my wife as we lazily spun in the ocean. Mary’s body clung to me, her cheek resting on my chest. My cock was still buried inside her and, as she shifted her weight, my cock began to harden. Our passions grew, urging our hips to move. I wanted to float with her forever in this ocean, just making love. An eternity of love and passion.

I kept fucking her and she kept grinding her clit against me. A second orgasm burst through her and she tightly held me. I kept pumping my ass, my balls ready to burst. Her pussy muscles writhed on my cock and I groaned; a flood of bubbles rose out of my mouth as my cum shot into my wife. I heaved against her as it felt like every nerve in my body exploded; lost to the pleasure of my naughty filly.

We washed up onto the sandy beach, still wrapped around each other. Mary was atop me, her wet hair brushing my cheek. I was still inside her, hard and ready. She leaned up on her arms, her breasts brushing my chest as I reached up and stroked her cheek. A wave surged around us, warm and salty.

“I wish we could just stay here forever.”

She smiled at my words, gently rocking her hips. A slow, languid rhythm. “I would love that.”

“We could find a beach like this, away from everything,” I told her. “Leave all of this responsibility behind. Just us and the sluts…and the maids. A magnificent beach mansion full of hot women eager to please us.”

Her green eyes sparkled dreamily, then she sighed. “Our enemies would just find us,” Mary bitterly answered. “The Patriots, Lilith and…” she swallowed her last word. I wondered whom she was about to name. Ever since she spoke with the Mother Superior, she had been cagey about some revelation. Something so important that she could reveal it only in the Matmown.

“We have this night,” I told her.”

“We can return here every night,” Mary whispered. “Our safe refuge from the world. Just me and you.”

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

Friday, November 8th, 2013 – Mary Glassner – Tacoma, WA

Mark woke me with a kiss. He was sweet that way.

“We’re about to land,” he told me.

I yawned, smiling at my husband. The dream had been such a success. We made love for what seemed like hours on that sandy beach. The dream-sharing worked just like Sam predicted. According to her, we could share our dreams without needing Azrael because of how tightly bound together our souls were. The Angel had laid the bridge, but we didn’t need her to cross anymore. We were so close that our souls were practically one, bound tightly by wishes and spells—and love.

“And what lead to Sister Cuntrag submitting to Master and Mistress?” April asked. I frowned. She was sitting next to Korina, a laptop on her lap and her fingers dancing across the key.

“Master turned her into a bitch,” Korina answered. “He put a choke collar around her neck, dog ears on her head, and a butt plug with a dog’s tail up her ass. Then he and Mistress took her for a walk outside.”

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“You’re Gods, Mistress,” April answered. “I’m going to write about your life. Every religion needs scriptures.”

“Wow,” Mark whistled. “I didn’t know you were a writer.”

April flushed. “I’ve always thought about it. I wrote a few…dirty stories and published them on the internet.”

Mark laughed. “What a naughty slut.”

I bent down and kissed her on the lips. “Good luck. I can’t wait to read it.”

April managed to blush an even deeper shade of crimson. “I’ll do my very best.”

I sat down next to Mark, leaning my head on his shoulder, thinking about April’s writing a scripture about us. Sometimes the sheer magnitude of what we were doing would fall on me, burying me beneath an avalanche of guilt. We weren’t Gods. We were just two flawed individuals muddling our way through the world, thrust into events for beyond our capabilities.

Lucifer had to be stopped. We had to have the World prepared in case the worse should happen and the Gates of Hell are opened and the Devil and his ilk are unleashed to plague mankind. They would transform Earth into Hell, oppressing and enslaving everyone.

This mess was our fault. Mark and I were both too weak to have made better choices, and now we had to reap the harvest we sowed.

We landed at McChord Air Field, part of Joint Base Lewis-McChord. It was a combined Army and Air Force installation that bordered the city of Lakewood. A different limo waited for us than the one we used in Kansas. We had several armored limos that were flown about on one of our many C-130 cargo planes. There was no media waiting for us in the early hours of the morning, only an honor guard of Airmen.

The Limo drove us north on I-5 to the Murano Hotel, our temporary home while our Mansion was being constructed. After Brandon burned down our neighborhood, we had commandeered the Hotel in downtown Tacoma. I was still tired, the flight was only a few hours. Just long enough to take a nap, but I needed more sleep.

The lobby was full of our maids, dressed in a variety of sexy maid outfits. They were mostly teenage girls, but a few were older women. They were all recruited by Willow out of her clinic and bound to Mark with the Zimmah spell.

“Master, Mistress,” Pearl bowed. She was the chief maid. Her teenage daughter, Cindy, was one of the thirty or so maids that greeted us. “Welcome back.”

Mark motioned to the dusk-red Hindi beauty he met in the hospital. “Karishma will be joining your maids,” he told Pearl. “I haven’t bound her yet, so don’t let her see anything sensitive. I’ll take care of that later today.” He yawned. “After we get some more sleep.”

“Of course, my Lord,” Pearl bowed, then took Karishma’s hand. “Umm, aren’t you a pretty one. The girls and I will take good care of you.”

All of our family and employees had rooms here. Only people bound by the Zimmah spell stayed here now. Leah, our chauffeur, was greeted by her husband and wife. I was glad their three-way marriage worked out. It was wonderfully romantic watching Rachel and Leah fall in love that weekend in New York, and Jacob seemed to round out their threesome nicely.

The elevator opened and Sam walked out naked, trailed by an equally naked Candy, her love-slave. I flushed as I saw the cock swinging between her legs and the cum dripping out of Candy’s pussy. Sam felt my eyes on her cock, and she blushed, concentrated, and it shrank back into her clitoris. Memories of having my own cock flooded my mind, the feeling of warm pussy engulfing me and the intense release of a male orgasm.

My pussy dampen. Could Mark handle me having a cock I could dismiss? We could fuck the same woman, using her holes together. But what if he couldn’t handle it? I’ve seen him watch Sam fuck other women, lust burning in his eyes. But Sam wasn’t his wife, and he’s never fucked her once since she’s gotten her cock. I didn’t want to take that chance that he would stop seeing me as a woman. It wasn’t worth the risk of causing a rift between us.

Even if I burned to create my own cock sometimes.

“It’s finished,” Sam answered.

“What is?” I yawned. We had been traveling the country for the last three days. The NSA had turned its considerable capabilities into spying on US Citizens and we crashed several protest rallies and placed more resistors under our control before stopping in Omaha to spend the day healing.

“The Matmown!” Excitement filled her voice. “Just a few hours ago.”

Energy surged through me, banishing my fatigue. “You tested it?”

“I summoned Karen and she could not see us within it,” Sam confirmed.

I glanced at Mark and I could see the eagerness in his eyes. He was desperate to learn what secret I had been holding back these last six weeks. Maryam – the Mother Superior of the Nuns – pressed upon me the necessity of not revealing the truth of Lucifer’s plans outside of a Matmown. The Devil could not know that we were moving against him.

It was the only chance we had.

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

Lilith – The Abyss

I glared at Samnag Soun as I haunted the Shadows. If hate could reach through the barrier between life and death, my gaze would stop her foul heart. Her and that slattern Candy. They killed my daughter, my sweet Luka. They cut her head off and buried her with a mouth full of dirt.

They trooped into the elevator. Mark and Mary, and all their sluts. I wanted to step through the Shadows and rip their heads off. Mark killed two more of my daughters—my beautiful Dimme twins. Rage boiled inside me. Only my spirit traveled to the Abyss. My vessel rested safely in Seattle. I couldn’t touch Mark even if I manifested into the mortal world. I would only be an insubstantial spectre.

It was just as well, I would most likely die. My skills weren’t in combat, and Mark had slain Molech, one of the most powerful of the Demon Princes. Only Lucifer could rival Molech in a contest of arms.

Around me prowled Mark’s dead whores—Chasity, Karen, the others. They were always hovering in the Shadows around Mark and Mary, protecting them from the Patriots’ foolish attacks. The ghost had tried to drive me off in the beginning, but I was a spiritual being, so I could harm the ghosts.

Now they didn’t bother. They just watched, ready to pounce if it looked like I was about to cross over. I could feel their eyes on me, full of anger and hatred. I ignored them, focusing on Mark’s group.

Mark’s elevator reached the basement and he and his sluts walked down the hallway to the damned cold-iron box—the Matmown. The iron walls shown with a blinding, white light. The Prayers inscribed on the metal burned with the ferocity of the stars, flooding the Shadows with pure, painful light. The door to the Matmown lay open, not that it mattered; I still couldn’t enter it, not from the Shadows.

The door closed and I wanted to howl in frustration. They were going to move on me, I just knew it. Ever since they sent Sam to France, my name had barely been spoken. They were avoiding making plans, knowing I could spy on them from the Shadows and overhear whatever they said.

My mind whirled. I was only weeks away from being powerful enough to challenge them. Damn that slattern Sam! How did Mark ever find someone so competent?

“Isn’t it funny how much time you spend lurking in the Abyss,” Lucifer mocked from behind me. I almost jumped, but eons spent in the Abyss taught me to suppress any sign of weakness. “You spent all that energy to escape, and yet here you are. Why did you even bother?”

I could feel his radiance on my back. “What I do is none of your business. I am yours no longer.”

“Why would I interfere. Everything you do serves my purpose.”

I ground my teeth in frustration. He was always so smug, so sure that events danced to his lyre. I turned to face him; trying not to flinch before his radiance. He had to shine as bright as his pride, and nothing in the universe was greater. “What if they’re plotting against you, Lucifer. Who knows what Maryam told that slattern in France.”

He shrugged. “I’ll know soon enough.”

“How,” I asked suspiciously. “Not even you can penetrate a Matmown.”

“I have a spy,” he answered. “She has been with them for months. In their inner circle.”

“Do you take me for a fool?” I demanded. “All the people around them are bound by the Zimmah spell.”

His smile was condescending. “You should run along now and try to defend your little demesne before Mark takes it away from you.”

Infuriated with Lucifer, I returned to my body. I sat up in my chair. Lana and Chantelle, my High Priestesses, knelt patiently. I wanted to slam my fist into the desk and screech out my rage and fear. But I had to maintain my calm, controlled exterior.

I am a Goddess.

I took two, deep breaths, trying to exhale all of my frustrations.

My gaze fell on blonde, voluptuous Lana. Her face was round, set with blue, sultry eyes. My lust stirred and I let my cock grow hard, expanding from my clit. My frustration needed an outlet and Lana’s juicy sheath was the perfect place to release some pent-up energy.

“Lana,” I said imperiously.

“Yes, my Goddess?” she asked.

“Attend me.”

She rose gracefully, dressed in a flowery dress and a light, blue sweater. She shrugged off the sweater and pulled her dress over her head. Her breasts were round; large nipples pierced with gold rings. My eyes feasted on her plump curves. Her heavy breasts swayed as she walked around to my side of the desk and bent over. I touched her ass and she gasped, shaking as an orgasm swept through her, filling the air with the most delicious of scents—a woman’s arousal.

I savored her tart, tangy fragrance as my own, tight red dress dissolved into mist.

“Use my naughty cunt to relieve yourself,” she purred.

Chantelle undressed as well. She had the slim, lithe body of a ballerina, with a porcelain face framed by short, black hair. I could smell her arousal as well, a sweet musk adding to Lana’s bouquet. A cock gently swelled from Chantelle’s clit, and Lana reached out and grasped her wife’s dick.

“I need relief too, my love,” Chantelle purred in her melodic, Quebecois accent.

“Gladly,” Lana answered and pulled her wife’s cock into her lips.

Lana’s cunt was shaved, her labia engorged and dark with passion. I shoved my cock deep into her sheath. My Lust flooded Lana, traveling through her body and sending her cunt to convulse about my dick, before my Lust passed through her body and into Chantelle’s.

“Drink my cum!” Chantelle moaned as my Lust triggered her climax, gripping Lana’s blonde hair and shoving her cock deep into her wife’s hungry lips.

I pounded Lana’s cunt. My Lust kept her cumming, her delightful tunnel massaging my cock, slowly building my orgasm. Chantelle fucked Lana’s mouth, finding a rhythm with me. We’d thrust into Lana at the same time, filling her up with the cocks she loved. Chantelle’s eyes squeezed shut, her small, apple-sized breasts jiggling as orgasm after orgasm rippled through her, pumping blast after blast of cum into Lana’s mouth.

“My beautiful Lana,” she moaned. “Swallow my load! Oh fuck, I’m cumming again!” Chantelle’s finger reached down, scooping some white cum that leaked from Lana’s lips. She stared at the glistening drop, then licked her finger clean.

Such a nasty sight. I reached out, grasping Chantelle’s head, and pulled her lips to mine. They were sweet and salty, and the slut moaned her passion into my mouth as my tongue explored her. When I broke the kiss she wore a foolish, drunk look. She gasped and moaned, flooding her wife’s mouth with more jizz.

“My Goddess,” she panted. “Thank you!”

I cupped one of my heavy, perfect breasts, and Chantelle latched onto my nipple. I let my milk flow and she nursed eagerly. She sucked, pleasure arcing through me, joining the growing storm in my womb. I fucked Lana harder, her tight pussy gripping me like velvet glove. I exulted in her wet, spongy flesh. I was the Goddess of Lust, and Lana and Chantelle fervently worshiped me. I drank in their lust; I breathed in the sweet, musky odor of sex thick in the air. I didn’t need to eat or sleep—I just needed to drink lust.

Primal, vital lust.

The storm raged inside me then surged out my dick into Lana’s pussy. Her cunt spasmed on my cock as my cum squirted into her. I moaned; my glorious release trembled throughout my body, and I forgot all about my problems in this one, rapturous instance.

I collapsed into my chair, my breasts heaving. I closed my eyes, breathing deeply the musk that filled my office. My body tingled with energy, restoring what I expanded to send my spirit to the Abyss.

I have a spy.

Lucifer’s words interrupted my reverie. Did he really have a spy? Impossible. All those sluts around Mark were bound to him. None would betray him. Not when the bastard and his slattern holds their life-force in the palm of their hands. Lucifer is just trying to keep me unbalanced.

I opened my eyes and saw Lana’s messy cunt slowly leaking my black cum and I could hear the two sluts kissing. “Hmm, thank you,” purred Lana. “I love our Goddess’s milk.”

“You’re welcome,” Chantelle answered. “Do you have something to give me?”

“I do,” Lana answered, moving around the desk. She perched her curvy ass on my desk. Chantelle knelt before her and I could hear the messy sounds of cunnilingus. “Oh yes!” Lana moaned. “You wonderful woman! I love you!”

“How is Tir progressing?” I asked. “Has she perfected it yet?”

“No, my Goddess,” Lana reported, her voice thick with lust. Tir was my daughter by Fatima. “It’s not transmitting effectively. She thinks another few weeks to fine tune it.” I didn’t really think there would have been some miraculous breakthrough in the last few hours.

It wasn’t good news. I didn’t have a few weeks. I closed my eyes again, thinking. Mark would be coming after me. I would have to stall him somehow, and give Tir the time she needed to complete her work, and for my army in Africa to be born. But that wouldn’t take care of Mark himself. I’d need something else.

I smiled. The daggers of Mispach. Forged by Cain from a falling star. Any wound from one of those cursed daggers produce a wound so fatal, no power could heal it. They were lost to time. First she’d need to get some breathing room; time to search out one of the daggers.

“Umm, let me taste our Goddess’s seed,” cooed Lana.

The sounds of their kissing distracted me. When I opened my eyes, I found them locked in a passionate embrace. Their relationship was young, their love still burned hot. I could feel the lust bleeding off both of them, calling to me. Lana moaned low and throaty as Chantelle sheathed her cock in the blonde.

Their lust stirred my passions, hardening my cock.

I glided gracefully around the desk, my cock waving hard before me. Chantelle’s slim ass pumped as she fucked Lana, muscles flexing. I touched the small of her back. I held back my Lust, wanting my priestesses to be relatively clearheaded. Chantelle looked at me over her shoulder, an inviting smile on her face. My cock found her wet cunt, and I drove hard into her, pushing Chantelle’s dick deep into Lana.

“I have a plan, Priestesses,” I groaned, savoring the feel of her pussy.

To be continued…

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