The Devil's Pact Pt. 01

I pushed those emotions back down. Dwelling on the past just made the present harder, and living was trial enough.

"How?" he asked, his voice sounded dead. The poor guy.

"One day at a time," I answered, smiling sweetly at him. "The pain will dull, fade, and turn into a scar."

He stared at me for a long moment. No, he wasn't staring at me, but past me. The poor guy, his wife really did a number on him. I kept rubbing his arm, trying to soothe his pain away. It was pointless, he was hurting too much for a simple touch to heal him, but what else could I do besides leave him to suffer alone?

"I just don't get it," he whispered, a tear spilling down his cheek. "It doesn't make any sense."

"I know."

My bag slid past; I grabbed it off the conveyor belt. My sudden movement snapped him out of his funk for a moment. He looked at the luggage passing by, then grabbed a tan suitcase off the belt. He clutched it in his hand, his lower lip quivering.

"She packed this for me before I left. She told me she loved me."

"I think you could use a drink," I said. "Do you know a bar around here, um?"

"Newton," he answered. "Everyone calls me Newt, though. Except..." The pain returned.

"I'm Sister Theodora, pleased to meet you."

It turned out Newt did know a bar. The Prickly Pear was a quiet bar just up the street from the Sky Harbor International Airport. It was Wednesday night, so it wasn't packed. We sidled up to the bar, and I savored my first rum and coke in a year, while he drank two shots of Jack Daniels in a row. Then he started talking.

"I left on a business trip on Monday, meeting a few clients for my company. She packed my suitcase, dropped me off at the airport, looked me in the eye and said she loved me." He took a deep gulp of his Jack Daniels. "Then...last night...she..." He finished off his third shot, pushing it to the barkeep. "She called me up and we were done."

"Oh, no," I said, reaching out to stroke his hand.

"Yeah. She said, 'We're done. I'm moving in with Tex. He's a real man and I love him. You can go blow your brains out for all I care.' And she hung up on me."

"She really said that?" I asked, my heart breaking.

"Yep," he snorted, grabbing his fourth shot and downing it in a single gulp. "Monday she loved me, and on Tuesday she couldn't even care if I killed myself."

I frowned. "How long were you married?"

"Six years. I thought they were wonderful. Y'know, we had the usual fights, but..."

"Yeah, but you thought everything was going fine. Tell me more about this Tex."

"He's the asshole that lives across the street," he exclaimed, splashing his drink down the front of his suit. "We only moved into the house two weeks ago, and since then there has been naked girls parading all over his house and yard."

"Really?" I set my drink down. Had Providence led me to the Warlock already?

"Who are these women?"

"Some kinda of whores. Like my wife! They parade around in skimpy bikinis, sometimes they sunbathe nude on his front lawn. I called the cops on him, like, twenty times. But the police didn't do anything. They'd just talked to him then left, not caring that there are a couple topless women outside in public."

I placed my hand on his. "Would you like to take me home?"

He glanced at me, his eyes falling on my half-exposed breasts. "What are you, a hooker? Another whore, like my wife?"

"No, I'm a nun," I answered.

"You don't dress like a nun."

I leaned over, and whispered in his ear, "I'm not like most nuns."

His hand fell on my thigh. "I shouldn't."

"Why not?"

"Yeah, why not. My wife doesn't fucking care anymore, why should I."

I leaned over, cupped his chin, rough with his five o'clock shadow, and kissed him on the lips.

Chapter Two

Be wary of making any Pact with a Power of the Abyss. They all come with cunning barbs. Even Lucifer's mild cost, three wishes for one soul, can come with strings attached.

--Excerpt from the Magicks of the Witch of Endor

Wednesday, June 5th, 2013 -- Mark Glassner -- Spaneway, WA

I left the Starbuzz coffee shop right after Mary departed in her boyfriend's truck. For the first time in, well, I can't remember how long, I had thought a woman was actually interested in me, and even flirting with me. Turned out she was just a nice girl killing time waiting for her boyfriend to show up. I tossed the book on the wrapper strewn passenger seat and jammed my keys into the ignition.

It was a sauna in my car. With the sun setting, it had started to cool off outside, but you couldn't tell that in my car. It had trapped all that delightful heat. I rolled down my windows, and took off, using the 2-50 method of AC: two windows rolled down, fifty MPH. The wind whipped through my car as I raced down Pacific Avenue towards the foothills and the wilderness, trying to get her green eyes, that beautiful smile, and her perky breasts out of my mind.

They did fill out her polo nicely.

After fifteen minutes of driving, and trying not to think about Mary's beautiful face, I turned off the highway onto a barely paved road. When I was a kid, my dad used to take me out here to shoot bottles with his.22 rifle. That was before his "back injury" put him on permanent disability and he turned into a miserable, abusive drunk. I turned off onto a gravel road, driving through the carefully rows of planted trees, working deeper and deeper into the back country until I came upon a crossroads next to a large fir tree that provided some blessed shade.

I parked, got out, and opened my trunk, retrieving a shovel. Digging the hole turned out to be harder than I thought it would be. The dirt beneath the gravel was almost as hard as concrete. I was sweaty and dirty when I finished, and stumbled back to my car and found a lukewarm doctor pepper in my backseat. It wasn't bad warm, and I downed the entire can in one gulp and cracked opened a second.

My thoughts drifted back to Mary. I leaned back in my driver seat, a gentle breeze wafting through my rolled down window, thick with the scent of pine and wildflowers. In my imagination, Mary opened the passenger door, climbing in, a smile on her heart-shaped face, a flush gracing her freckled cheeks. She'd lean over, placing her hand on my thigh, almost shy.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you," she whispered, her hand moving up my thigh. "My boyfriend's such a loser, not a man like you."

I closed my eyes, stroking myself as I pictured her hand moving higher and higher, unzipping my pants, and grasping my hard cock. Her fingers were soft and delicate, stroking me slow at first, then moving faster and faster as she leaned over and kissed me on the lips. Her mouth tasted sweet, her tongue darting into my lips.

She broke the kiss, her lips trembling with passion. "Make me yours," she moaned. "I want to be your slave. I'll do anything you want!"

"Suck my cock," I ordered. "Drink every drop of my cum."

"Absolutely," she purred. "Master."

She scooted in the car, bending her head down into my crotch. Her breath was warm against my glans, then I groaned as her tongue swirled around the sensitive nub. So warm and wet, then she sucked me into her lips. Pleasure like I had never experienced filled me. Her cheeks hollowed, her head bobbed up and down on my dick.

"Oh, Mary," I groaned. "Suck my cock! Be my whore!"

She moaned around my cock, sucking harder. My heart quickened, my breath came in loud snorts. I shifted in my seat, the pleasure spasming my body. My balls were boiling over, my entire body tensed. She took more of my cock, letting it brush the back of her throat. I grabbed her auburn hair and shoved her mouth down, rough and forceful. She choked and gagged as I forced her to deep-throat me. But she didn't pull away, she submitted to my domination. She was my loving slave.

I came, groaning in my car. I opened my eyes. Still alone. I wiped the cum off my hand with a napkin and put my cock away. I glanced at my phone. Well, that killed five minutes, still four plus hours to go. If this worked, if the Devil really would give me three wishes in exchange for my soul, then I would make Mary mine.

I just had to wait until midnight.

* * *

Mary Sullivan -- Spaneway, WA

Mike burped, crumpling his beer can after he finished drinking it. He held up his plate, the crumpled can tossed on the remains of the chicken and rice-a-roni I had made for dinner. "Thanks, babe," he muttered not even bothering to look at me.

I sighed, glaring at his black hair. He looked particularly weaselly from this angle, with the small patch of hair on his chin and the piercing in his right ear. He wore greasy overalls that always left stains on his chair. He rattled the plate, expecting me to take it. He didn't even look at me.

I snatched the plate from him. Would it kill Mike to do the dishes once in a while, or any of the other chores in our apartment? I should say something, but he'd just give me one of his excuses, "I work hard all day, I want to come home and relax." Like I hadn't worked hard all day? I may have finished college for the summer, but I still worked full time at the Starbuzz. Didn't I get to relax?

No.

I walked to the kitchen. "Hey, babe, can you grab me a fresh one while your up."

"Fine," I muttered. I dumped the plate in the sink, opened the fridge, and walked back into the living room. He didn't even say thanks as I handed him another cold beer. I puttered back to the kitchen, hating myself for letting Mike walk all over me.

Sometimes, I wondered why I even stay with him. He's the only boyfriend I ever had. We started dating my junior year, his senior, and he took my virginity after prom. After High School, he took a job at his uncle's repair shop, and when I had graduated, I had moved in with him. And why not, we were in love, right?

The water hissed, splashing on the deep-blue plates. They were the same shade as that man's eyes--Mark. His eyes had seemed to reach right into me when I looked at him. I had never quite seen the like before. Piercing blue and arresting. He was shy, dark hair, serious face, but when he smiled, it was so boyish and excited. Why did I have to be dating Mike? I would have loved to say yes to Mark when he started to ask me out.

And the way Mike had been acting the last year, part of me wanted to take Mark up on his offer. At least Mark hadn't treated me like a doormat. But that would mean leaving Mike, and I couldn't do that. We were in love. I wouldn't be my mother and run out on my relationship to be with another man. I wasn't a hussy! I would stay with my man and love him, and not break his heart. My poor dad still pined after that two-timing bitch, and I would not do that to Mike.

Because I loved him.

Right?

Crack! I jumped; Mike's hand slapped my butt, squeezing my cheek through my khaki work pants. "Hey, babe," he whispered, his breath sour with beer. "You are looking mighty fine today." His hard cock rubbed against my plump butt. "Why don't you do the dishes later and come have some fun with me."

"After I'm done," I sighed. I was feeling a little horny, but not for Mike.

He grabbed my arm. "C'mon, I'll make you forget all about the dishes."

I let him pull me away. When he was like this, he'd pester me all night to get in my pants. Best to get this over with. Maybe he'd last long enough I could get a nice cum out of it. I couldn't even remember the last time Mike had gone down on me. It was at least a year ago, maybe longer, and he rarely lasted long enough to let me get off.

"You are looking so hot tonight," he grinned, pulling my polo shirt over my head.

"Thanks," I sighed as his fingers pawed at my breast, squeezing too hard. He was never gentle when he had a few beers in him.

He reached behind me, trying to unclasp my bra and cursing as he failed. I reached behind and undid it myself, letting my white, boring bra fall off my perky tits. They were my best feature--small but without a single bit of sag and dusted with freckles. My nipples were a dusky pink, not too small, but not those giant ones you see on woman with larger tits.

"Fuck, babe," he groaned, then pushed me down on the bed.

His greasy coveralls came off, followed by his wife-beater while I shimmied out of my khakis and plain, white panties. He gazed down at my pussy hidden beneath a thick, red bush. His eyes were dull with drink, and muddy brown. My thoughts drifted to Mark's blue eyes; warmth flushed through me, right down to my pussy. Mike climbed on top, sticking his fingers between my legs and shoving them inside me.

"Damn, babe, you're already wet," he grinned. "My sexy body, huh."

"Sure," I lied, closing my eyes and thinking of Mark and his boyish grin. Mark's face was shaved smooth, no disgusting soul patch perched on his chin.

Mike shoved his cock in me. I gave a soft moan, pleasure sparking through me. He pumped hard, his groin smashing into me. My hips bucked, rising to meet his thrusts. I pictured Mark on top of me, gazing down at me with those piercing eyes. More pleasure tumbled through me, and I gave another low, gasp.

"Fuck, babe," Mike groaned. I tried to ignore his voice, concentrating on my image of Mark. "What has gotten into you tonight!"

"Just fuck me," I gasped. Fuck me, Mark. Oh, yes! Ravish me. Make me yours. Take me away from Mike. "Oh, fuck! Harder!"

My fantasy consumed me. Mark pumped his cock faster, his groin pleasantly bruising my clit every time he bottomed out inside me. He grinned, boyish and lustful at the same time. You're mine, Mark whispered in my mind. Work those hips; I want to feel your pussy cumming around my cock. Then I'm going to flood you with my cum.

"Yes, cum in me!" I groaned.

"Hell, yeah, babe!"

An orgasm grew inside me, every thrust of Mark's cock sent more and more passion trembling through me. I was so close; my pussy ready to erupt around him. I just kept staring into his blue eyes as he made love to me. My fingers clawed his back, his chest crushing my breasts, rasping my nipples. Our hips were moving in unison, moving with one purpose--to make each other cum.

"Oh, fuck! I'm gonna cum!" I moaned; Mark pumped faster inside me. "Oh, yes! Keep fucking me. I'm gonna cum!" Pleasure erupted inside me. "Oh, yes! Oh, yes! I'm cumming! Oh, fuck, Mark, I'm cumming!"

I froze, opening my eyes, my orgasm erupting through me. Mike kept pumping away, his eyes squeezed shut. He didn't hear what I said. Relief and pleasure swept through me. I closed my eyes, picturing Mark again; more pleasure built inside me. Would I get a second orgasm? My friends whispered about having more than one during sex, but I had never experienced that bliss before. I humped my hips, eager for this new--

Mike dumped his cum inside me. Then he grunted once, rolled off me, and started snoring. Sighing, I rolled out of bed and headed to the bathroom to clean up. I still had dishes to do, and the bathroom needed cleaning. And I hadn't dusted. And I had an early shift tomorrow because Megan was out on vacation.

Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

Maybe Mark would show up and brighten it.

* * *

Sister Theodora Mariam -- Phoenix, AZ

I pulled Newt's car into his driveway. He was too drunk to drive home. He lived on a cul-de-sac in one of those suburbs that could be anywhere in America. The houses were all built from the same three plans, and painted brown, beige, white, or gray. They all had perfectly cut, green lawns, though there were cacti, some concession to the Arizonian climate. It must be trash day tomorrow, because every house had their green, plastic garbage can to the right of their driveway.

Newt almost fell getting out of his car, and he glared across the street at a gray house. A faint, pulse of bass permeated the neighborhood, and all the lights on that house were on. It sounded like a party was going on in there. I looked closely, hoping to see Tex or one of the women. If I saw them, I could read their aura and confirm if Tex was my Warlock or just the luckiest guy in the world.

My money was on him being a Warlock. No one who lived in a three bedroom house in suburbia had naked women running around without selling his soul.

"I should go over and kick his ass," Newt whispered, face twisted with anger. "Kick his ass right in front of my cheating, whoring, skank of a wife."

I grabbed his hand, pressing it against my breast. "Wouldn't you like to get back at her another way?" I purred. If Tex was a Warlock, it could be very bad. Kurt had done some pretty heinous things to jealous boyfriends and husbands, and who knows what Tex would do to Newt.

Newt looked at me, and at my round tits; his hand squeezed. Desire flared in his eyes. "Yeah. That'll teach the bitch."

I wanted to tell him the truth, that his wife wasn't a bitch or a whore--she was just a victim. Well, when I rescue her tomorrow, I'll try and smooth things out. They've only been separated a day, it might not be too late to save their relationship.

But that had to wait. I needed to gather more information on Tex and, in the mean time, I was horny. My hand reached out and rubbed the growing bulge his pants. "Let's go inside."

"Yeah," he husked, pulling me to the door. He needed this, something to take his mind off his suddenly upside-down world. He fumbled in his pockets before he realized I had his keys. He snatched them out of my hand, and then cursed. "The bitch didn't even lock the door."

The house was dark, empty. I kissed him the moment the door was closed. His strong arms wrapped around me, finding the zipper of my dress. He was wasting no time. Good. My dress fell in a pile about my feet, and I pushed away, walking to the couch wearing only a pair of skimpy, powder-blue panties that clung to my shapely ass.

I sat on the couch, crossing my legs; his eyes were glued to my shapely tits as they bounced and jiggled. I patted the couch next to me, grinning like a sultry nymph. He swallowed, peeling off his rumpled suit jacket and ripping his loose tie over his head, throwing it to the floor. He strode across the living room, tall and strong, ready to ravish me.

I was ready to be ravished.

His hands went straight to my tits, squeezing hard, pinching my nipples; wonderful sensations bursting through me. He kissed me hard, passionate. I moaned into his lips, wrapping my arms around his neck. Lord, I needed this. His tongue was aggressive, pushing deep into my mouth, fencing with mine. I took one hand, sliding it down his soft shirt to his pants, groaning as I rubbed his throbbing cock.

I unsnapped his slacks, pushed the zipper down. He raised his ass up, letting my hands pull his pants and boxers off. His cock sprang up, wobbling about. My hands found it, feeling his heartbeat throb through him, then stroked him. He was thick; I couldn't wait to feel him inside me. I rubbed my finger across the tip, gathering the precum beading there, and smeared it down his shaft. Every stroke brought another bead of nature's lube to the surface.

He broke the kiss, breathing hard. "Oh, God, Theodora," he moaned. "I can't believe this is happening."

"Think of it as your reward for suffering," I purred. "God has sent me to you to ease your pain."

"I didn't think he had hookers working for him."

"I'm not a hooker." I bent down, and licked the tip of his cock; he tasted salty. "I'm a nun who serves His will." I sucked the tip of his cock into my mouth.

"And what's his will?"

I looked up at him, pushing my sandy-blonde hair out of my face. "To defeat Tex." Then I buried his cock in my mouth.

"Oh, fuck!" he groaned. "I'd like that!"

His hand stroked my back, reaching lower and lower, then he shoved it into my panties. He squeezed my firm ass, then reached deeper. I gasped around his cock as his fingers found the wet hair adorning my pussy. More pleasure shot into me; his fingers caressed my vulva, then he stuck two deep into me. God, yes. He stirred me up, my hips wiggling on their own, lost to the pleasure his wonderful fingers were churning. I sucked harder, moaning around his hard cock, letting my tongue swirl about his shaft.