The Devil's Pact Pt. 04

Another cum wracked my body.

"Shoot!" I groaned as he pulled his lips away.

"There doesn't seem to be any contraband here either." He stood up then seized my blonde hair and pulled me to his couch. Pain burned through me and I felt so helpless with my hands cuffed behind my back. He threw me over the arm of the sofa, my face resting on the cushions. His hand smacked my butt. "We still have one more hole to search."

"Oh, shoot!" I gasped. "Do it! I'm a bad slut!"

His fingers slid through my pussy, pushing in deep. It took me a moment to realize he was lubing his fingers up because they were sliding into my butthole a moment later. I groaned, loving that burning sensation as my backdoor was violated. He pumped in and out of me, then added a third finger.

Another orgasm swelled with in me as I writhed on the couch, rubbing my cheek and aching nipples into the rough texture of the cushions. So wonderful. I humped my hips, rubbing my clitoris into the couch's arm and that rough texture sent pleasure burning through me.

"I just can't get my fingers in deep enough. I'll need to use a longer tool."

"Oh, yes!" I purred as I heard his belt thud to the floor than his zipper rasping open. "Screw my butt!"

He shoved his cock into my pussy, lubing himself up in my sopping depths. He was thick and long, spreading me open. I gasped when he pulled out, his wet tip sliding through my taint to my puckered butthole.

He pushed against me. I groaned as my sphincter burned open. The pleasure was stupendous as he drove slowly into me. I was stuffed full of wonderful meat when his groin pressed against my butt-cheeks.

Then he screwed me.

"Dirty whore!" he grunted, his couch shaking as he reamed my butt hard. "Take it! Take my thick, cop's dick up your dirty ass! You can't stop me! You're just a fucking prostitute! This is all you're good for!"

"Yes, yes, yes!" I panted, pushing back into his strokes, my body responding to his degrading words. His strong hands ran up and down my supple back, pressing me down into the rough couch. "Screw me! Oh, shoot! You're cock's wonderful, officer! Screw my dirty, whorish butt!"

My orgasm burned hot through me. I screamed into the couch cushion. My bowels writhed about his wonderful shaft. His balls smacked against my taint as he screwed me harder, spurred on by my climaxing hole.

"Fucking slut!" he grunted as his hot cum flooded my butthole.

This was a great reward to saving those six women.

* * *

Mark Glassner -- Puyallup, WA

Mary enjoyed driving her new Eos. It cost $38,000 before taxes, but the dealership was happy to take just a dollar for the car. I had them fill out all the paperwork to make it all nice and legal, then I had thrown Alison the keys to my Mustang and told her to follow.

"Where to?" Mary asked as she turned her new car onto River Road.

"We'll, it's getting late. Why don't we find our new house."

She raised her eyebrows. "Are you going to take someone's house."

"Yep." I winked at her.

"You are so bad. So where is our new house at?"

"Just follow my directions. I know were some beautiful homes are."

"Sure."

I gave her a few, quick directions that would take us back up to South Hill on Shaw Road.

The engagement ring box pressed against my leg in my pants pocket, and I wondered how and where I would propose to her. I wanted it to be special and romantic. "Mary," I asked her as she drove us through downtown Puyallup. "Is there anything around the Puget Sound that you've always wanted to do?" I hoped I sounded subtle.

Mary bit her lip as she thought. It was one of the many, cute things she did. "I would like to see orcas swimming and frolicking."

I frowned. "Orcas? Aren't those out in the ocean?"

She laughed. "There are a couple pods that live in the Sound," she said, incredulous that I, her boyfriend, could be so dumb.

"Okay. So you go to a pier or something."

"No, there are these boats that take tours out into the Sound. Shelly, my friend from High School, went on one with her boyfriend. She said they were so beautiful and it was so very romantic."

Romantic, huh. I wasn't sure what was so romantic about watching big fish in the ocean, but Mary sure seemed excited. I could give that to her. If she wanted to see big fish, then I'd make that happen for her.

"How about you?" she asked.

"Huh?" I frowned.

"Any place you've always wanted to see?"

I thought for a minute. "The Space Needle. I've spent my whole life living an hours drive from it and I've never been up there."

"Oh, it's very beautiful and romantic up there," she gushed, her freckled face lighting up. "And there's this restaurant built up there. It slowly rotates so you can see all across Seattle, and the Sound. It's so gorgeous."

"Then you'll have to show me how beautiful it is sometimes."

Mary nodded her head. "I'd love to, Mark."

A plan formed in my mind. I could use Alison to make the arrangements and surprise Mary with the entire trip.

My directions led us back up South Hill to where million dollar houses were built on the edge of the hill, overlooking the Puyallup River Valley with a stunning view of Mount Rainier. We turned into a neighborhood called Mountain View Estates.

"Wow," Mary whispered, her eyes as large as saucers.

"Choose one," I told her.

"And the owners are going to give it to you?"

"What do you think?"

"That you promised to tell me tonight how you make people do whatever you want. I'm dying to know."

"You won't like it," I promised her, feeling a little uneasy.

I could see the curiosity burning in her green eyes--she wasn't going to drop this. I wanted to tell her to forget it, to command her to stop being curious about my powers, but it felt wrong. I loved her, and I didn't want to make her into my puppet. If she didn't have free will, how could she actually love me back?

She looked around the block as we drove up the street, following the curve, then her eyes fell on a blue-gray, three story house, with white trim. Large windows faced the street and the yard was well manicured, with shrubs and decorative rocks. Mount Rainier--a majestic, snow-capped peak--loomed behind the house. I always had to pause and admire the beauty of Mount Rainier. No matter how many times I've seen it, and you could see it from anywhere in Pierce County, it never stopped looking majestic.

"This is the one," she beamed, and pulled her Eos into the driveway of 2932 Mt. View Ct, turning off the car's engine. "It's gorgeous."

Chapter Four

One cannot tell the rise of the Tyrants without telling the story of Brandon Fitzsimmons. On the surface, he presented himself as cultured and sensitive, often donating to many causes or appearing at charity events with his first wife Maryanne and, later, his second wife, Desiree.

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

Brandon Fitzsimmons

"After the gym she went to lunch with a few friends," Doug reported over my car speakers--my cell phone was connected to my BMW's radio by Bluetooth. "Then she came home."

"Good," I sighed, driving past Doug's beat-up car--the piece of shit looked so out of place on Mountain View Court. Maybe I should rent him something nicer so he blends in better? I hit the garage door remote clipped to my sun visor, the blue-gray garage doors opened, and I pulled into my driveway and parked my car in the garage next to my wife's white BMW.

"I don't think she's cheating, Mr. Fitzsimmons," Doug answered. "I think you're just being paranoid."

I probably was, but after my first ex-wife had embarrassed me by running off with another executive at work, who could blame me? I needed to keep reminding myself that Desiree wasn't a cunt like Maryann. She was always a good wife who would never do anything that I would have to chastise her for.

I balled my fist; Maryann needed constant chastisement.

"Keep on her for another week or so. Just to be sure."

"You're paying," he chuckled. "I'll watch her for as long as you want."

"Good. I have to go. I'll wire next week's expenses too you in the morning."

"Cool. Take care, Mr. Fitzsimmons."

I hung up, not bothering to get too familiar with the private investigator. I climbed out of my car, grabbing my leather briefcase, and whistled as I walked through the garage past Desiree's white BMW, not as nice as mine, but still a great car. The garage led into our kitchen, and my wife greeted me with a big smile.

She was a gorgeous, Latina woman, twenty-nine, in a white, wrap-around dress with a plunging neckline that showed off a large and generous cleavage. She wore no bra and her full tits bounced and jiggled as she shuffled about the kitchen, and I admired the way her curvy ass swayed beneath her tight skirt.

"How was your day, mi querido?" she asked, a smile spreading across her nut-brown face. She always called me "my dear" in Spanish. It was sweet. She was such a good wife. She would never cheat on me.

"Just fine," I smiled, and she leaned down so I could kiss her cheek. Some guys hate dating women taller than them, but when you're barely 5'3" you either became used to it or dated midgets. Besides, it put me at eye level with her tits. And they were as lovely as always. "Yours?"

"Oh, nothing exciting. Just the gym and lunch with a few friends."

"What's for dinner?" he asked her.

A mysterious grin parted her gorgeous face. "It's a surprise." She was one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. I loved to hold onto both of her asscheeks as she rode me in bed. Desiree was wild in the sack.

"What sort of surprise," I purred, groping her ass.

"You won't be disappointed in it," she promised, playfully batting my hand away.

"I never am."

Not only was she gorgeous, she was a genius in the kitchen. My last wife could burn cereal. Now I actually enjoyed coming home and eating a homecooked meal. It was--

The doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," I muttered, irritation flashing through me. It better not be some damn magazine salesman or, worse, missionaries trying to save my soul. I had money, what did I care about my soul?

I strode through my house, rubbing my hand across my balding hair and adjusting my suspenders. The house was clean, the maid had been through today; Desiree loved to cook, but she couldn't be bothered to clean the house. Oh, well, it gave her time to hit the gym and keep her body tight. I passed through the living room and down the short hallway that led to the front door. I could see through the window a man and woman standing on my porch. They didn't look like salesmen or missionaries, but they also weren't one of my neighbors.

"Can I help you?" I asked as I opened the door, peering at them suspiciously. The man was a little overweight, but compared to me he was skinny, with intense blue eyes and a boyish grin on his face. The woman he had his arm wrapped about was pretty--in a plain, girl next door sorta way--with a freckled face, and auburn hair pulled into a ponytail.

"I'm Mark, and this is my girlfriend Mary, and our slut Alison."

Slut? I hadn't noticed the other woman. She was the youngest, probably eighteen, with bubblegum pink hair and...that was a nice pair of tits beneath her very tight, pink t-shirt stained with what looked like cum. She clearly wore no bra and her nipples were clearly pierced. She's the type of girl that'll fuck you in the champagne room for an extra fifty.

But she didn't belong on this street.

"Get off my property or I'll call the police," I ordered, and closed the door.

The man, Mark, caught the door with one hand. "That's rude. Invite us in."

"Sorry," I muttered, flushing at my rudeness. The man's voice was so deep and pleasant, and I couldn't think of any reason not to let them in, so I opened the door wide. "Please, come in. I'm Brandon Fitzsimmons."

They did, and I led them into my living room. The man nodded, examining the plush, cream colored couch and matching easy chair--my favorite throne. He smiled at my 56" flat-screen hung on the wall over an impressive entertainment center, while Mary examined the expensive art--a mix of modern and classics my art broker told me were valuable--and cooed over a painting that looked like someone just splashed various color paints on canvas.

I did not get modern art. But it was expensive, so it must be good. At the very least, it impressed my colleagues.

"Is there anyone else living here?" Mark asked me as their slut flopped onto the couch. Her skirt flared up and I had a brief flash of her shaved pussy.

"Just my wife, Desiree," I answered.

"Who's at the door, mi querido?" my wife called, walking over to put her arm around my waist. "Hello," she greeted Mark and Mary pleasantly. "I'm Desiree."

"I'm Mark and this is Mary," the man said, his eyes staring right at my wife's rack. No manners at all--she's my woman. "And that's Alison. She's our slut."

"I see," Desiree said delicately, and gave me a confused look. I didn't really know what to say.

"What do you think?" he asked Mary as he eyed my wife with a hungry look.

"Hey, watch where you're looking pal!" I shouted.

Mark fixed his blue eyes on mine. "Don't speak."

Don't speak? Who did he think he was talking to? I opened my mouth to tear into the jackass, but I couldn't seem to find anything to say. I closed my mouth, frowning. Surely I could muster a choice insult or two to hurl at this jackass. My blood boiled, and my anger itched to burst out of me and tear this cocksucker a new asshole. I opened my mouth again and I realized I didn't want to speak.

Not because this dick commanded me to be quiet, but because I didn't want to say anything.

"Do you cook?" Mary asked the woman, a considering look on her face.

"I do," she said. "I love to cook."

Mark looked at me. "Is she actually a good cook? You can speak when I ask you questions."

"She's the best," I answered, finding my voice again. "It's one of the reason's I married her." Not the most important though; I reached down and squeezed her plump, firm ass.

"Stop that," Desiree purred wickedly, slapping my hand away. "What'll our guest think."

I wanted to say "That I'm the luckiest guy in the world," but I still didn't want to say anything. It wasn't Mark that asked me the question. I did keep my hand on Desiree's ass, marking my territory. She was my woman.

"This'll work just fine," Mary nodded.

I wanted to ask what was fine.

"Brandon, we're going to borrow your house, and your wife, for a while," Mark told me.

"Sure," I answered, it seemed reasonable. "Though what do you mean 'by borrow my wife'?"

"Just stand there quietly and watch," Mark said with a smile. "Desiree, get down on your knees and suck my cock."

I gaped in astonishment as my lovely wife dropped to her knees, her hands fished out Mark's cock, then her warm mouth engulfed him. My stomach felt sick. Why was she doing that? I wanted to reach over and punch Mark in the face then grab my wife and slap her for being a whore, but I couldn't seem to move. And I couldn't turn my eyes away as my wife sucked and bobbed, licking his tip, then engulfing the entire cock back into her mouth.

"Mhh, your wife's got a hot, little mouth," Mark groaned. "That's it, work that cock. Show your husband just how much of a gold-digging whore you really are."

My wife made a throaty moan, and really worked her mouth on his cock. It was like a nightmare, and all I could do was watch my second wife cheat on me and be a whore just like Maryanne had been. Who was this man? Why did I listen to every word he said?

If I could move, I'd kill him.

* * *

Mark Glassner

I savored making Desiree suck my cock in front of her husband. The little whore loved it. And she was definitely wasted on the fat, short, balding man. He could never have pulled a piece of ass as fine as her without his money. Of course, I wasn't any different. Her mouth was warm and wet, and she sucked hard, sending my balls into overdrive.

"Worship that cock," I groaned. "You love it. You're a gold-digging whore, and you'll worship any guy with money and power! And I'll have more than any other man."

She sucked harder, moaning around my cock.

Mary kissed me on the cheek, and whispered, "Enjoy." Then she walked over to Alison and smacked her ass. "Sluts go naked in the house!"

"Sorry, Mistress," Alison apologized and quickly pulled off her cum stained top, and slipped out of her wispy skirt. Her gorgeous body was covered in streaks of my dried spunk and that just made her even sexier.

"Undress me," Mary ordered.

Alison eagerly pulled off her white blouse, unhooked the lacy, gray bra then unzipped the tight skirt. Finally, our slut knelt down and pulled off her Mistress's wispy, gray panties. Mary's pussy was right in Alison's face, and the little slut couldn't resist swiping her tongue through Mary's wet slit.

"Umm, good slut," Mary murmured, the she grabbed Alison's arm and pulled the girl to her feet, leading her over to the couch. Mary and Alison sat down and kissed, while her fingers played with Alison's nipple piercings.

"Desiree, I'm you Master now," I told her. "And Mary's your Mistress. You will do whatever filthy or depraved acts we tell you to and enjoy it. You burn to be used by us."

She popped her cock off my dick. "Yes, sir," she purred, then gobbled my cock again.

"Good. Alison's our number one slut. She's in charge when Mary and I aren't around." Mary's legs were spread open, her pussy wet and flushed and begging for attention; I loved looking at her pussy. So wet and juicy. "Desiree, go eat your Mistress's cunt."

Desiree stopped sucking my cock. "Gladly."

She crawled across the floor, her shapely ass rolling. Mary smiled down at Desiree as Alison sucked on her left nipple. "Eat my pussy, slut!"

"Absolutely! I love to eat pussy," Desiree purred in her sexy, Hispanic lilt.

Mary groaned as Brandon's wife pressed her mouth into her cunt. Mary grabbed her thick hair and rubbed the Latina slut's face into her pussy. I dropped behind my newest slut, pulling her skirt up, and exposed a black thong. I ripped it off her pussy; her cunt was shaved and had large, pink labia dripping with her excitement.

"Your wife's soaking wet," I told Brandon. He looked queasy as I slowly slid my cock inside her while Desiree moaned into Mary's cunt. The slut pushed back, eager to feel me inside her. "She's nice and tight as well."

I fucked Desiree's pussy hard, enjoying her cunt's velvety grip, and the sight of Desiree eating out Mary while Alison sucked on her freckled tits. Mary's hand slipped between Alison's thighs and fingered her clit.

"Thank you, Mistress," Alison purred around her nipple.

Desiree's plump ass jiggled as I fucked her. And then she started wiggling on my cock, bucking back into me. I slipped a hand around her waist and found her hard clit and rubbed. Her cunt contracted about my cock and she howled wordlessly into Mary's cunt. I pumped harder, enjoying the velvety massage her orgasming pussy was giving my shaft.

"God, your wife's a dirty whore!" I shouted at Brandon. "She just came on my dick. Tell your husband how much you loved it."

"Ohh, I fucking loved it, mi querido!" Desiree panted; mouth stained with cunt juices. "His cock feels so good in my pussy; I came so hard!"

"Your wife's going to be well looked after," I told her husband. "So, go upstairs, pack your suitcases. Whatever you'll need for a few weeks and go check into a cheap motel. Not local, something closer to your work. You'll live there until you can find a new home. Do not make any attempt to contact your wife. Do not call the police, or tell anyone about what's going on. Now go!"

Brandon raced out of the room, his fat gut shaking, and the stairs moaning in protest as he raced up them.