The Devil's Pact Pt. 05

Chapter One

10:23 AM: Unknown male, late twenties, heavyset, dark hair exited Fitzsimmons house in the company of unknown female, early twenties, red hair. Amorous exchange between Mrs. Fitzsimmons and unknown male and female. Unknown female, nineteen, pink-hair observed naked with Mrs. Fitzsimmons. See photographs.

--excerpt from Doug Allard's surveillance logbook, June 7th, 2013

Friday, June 7th, 2013 -- Mary Sullivan -- South Hill, WA

There was a gentle knock at the door and I stirred in Mark's arms. "Hello?" I asked, sleepily.

"Master, Mistress, we have breakfast," Alison said quietly. "May we come in."

Mark brushed a strand of my auburn hair off my cheek and kissed me. I smiled, and purred "Good morning, hun."

"Morning, Mare." He hugged me and couldn't seem to resist kissing me a second time. "Last night was amazing."

"It was amazing," I cooed, and kissed him back. Fuck breakfast, I wanted to have another round with Mark. Everything had almost ended last night. Mark told me the truth. He had sold his soul to the Devil and received the power to control people with his words. I had been one of those people, forced to perform depraved acts I never imagined I would ever do.

Or enjoy.

When Mark set me free last night and told me the truth, I had been hurt and angry. But I loved him. I fell in love with him before he dominated me. And I had enjoyed the things we did, the women we molested. It was exciting. So I came back to him with one condition--I had to make my own Pact with the Devil.

Then we'd be equals.

My kiss deepened, then he broke away, smiling apologetically. "Sorry, I gotta pee real bad."

"Oh," I sighed, letting him go. He sprang from the bed and I caught a glimpse of his naked ass rushing across the room and disappearing into the bathroom.

There was another soft rap at the door. "Master, Mistress, may we come in," Alison asked a second time. "We have breakfast."

I rubbed sleep from my eyes and sat up in the bed. "Yeah, come in."

Alison and Desiree walked into the room carrying silver trays. They were our sex slaves. I felt a little guilty that I was enjoying their enslavement, but my pussy grew damp just thinking about using their hot bodies for my pleasure.

Each tray had a glass of orange juice and plates with french toast, poached eggs and strips of bacon. Both girls were naked, like the good little sluts that they were. Alison had the lithe and nubile body of an eighteen-year-old and I enjoyed ogling her pierced nipples as they swayed on her round breasts. Desiree's nut-brown breasts were even larger, and swayed even more, and I licked my lips.

Mark had definitely awaken my true passions.

Desiree set her tray next to me on the nightstand while Alison walked around the bed, and set Mark's tray on the other nightstand. A toilet flushed in the bathroom, followed by the sink running, and then Mark walked out a boyish grin on his face as he drank in the sight of our naked sluts, his cock rising hard from his dark-brown bush.

"Oh, Mistress, you stayed," Alison said, flinging her arms about me. "I'm so happy!"

I hugged her back and kissed her gently, her lithe body rubbing against me, and her kiss became quite passionate. I tasted something on her lips. Pussy. An image of Alison between Desiree's brown thighs flashed through my mind. My pussy was on fire, and I thrust my tongue into my slut's mouth, spreading my legs and rubbing my pussy against her silky thigh.

Mark, chewing on a slice of bacon motioned to Desiree; the Hispanic slut obeyed, slidding her voluptuous body against my boyfriend, her large tits spilling across his chest.

"Isn't she beautiful," Mark whispered to Desiree--how sweet. "She's getting randy."

I was. So randy.

My hand slid down Alison's hip to grab her ass, while Alison nuzzled at my neck. The slut shifted her hips, then her pussy was kissing mine, and I humped my hips as pleasure burst through me. I pulled on Alison's hips, pressing her hot cunt into mine.

"I love watching girls trib," Mark groaned. "Climb on my dick."

"Yes, mi Rey!" Desiree husked.

I wasn't sure what "mi Rey" meant, but she sure sounded sexy when she said it.

I turned my head, watching as Desiree straddled my boyfriend's waist, her large breasts swinging heavily in his face. Mark sucked hard on a fat nipple and Desiree cooed. Her hands grasped his cock, guiding it to her wet pussy.

"Oh fuck," Mark groaned. "That feels wonderful."

"Thank you, mi Rey," Desiree purred, sliding slowly up and down on his cock, moaning with her sultry voice.

"How does the slut feel?" I asked.

"Like silk wrapped around my cock," Mark groaned. "How's yours?"

"Umm, her pussy is driving mine wild! Trib me harder, Alison."

"Yes, Mistress," she purred, sucking on my ear. Her hips ground harder, her clit sliding through my labia. "I'll make you cum so hard!"

"You're so big!" Desiree moaned, "Mi hombre hermoso!"

Desiree arched her back and fucked Mark harder. Her tits bounced deliciously, so heavy. I wanted to bury my face in them. My hands roamed Alison's firm ass and supple back as the slut ground her cunt into mine.

"Ride my stallion and make him cum!" I gasped.

"Yes, mi Reina!"

She rocked her hips on his cock faster and faster, moaning lustfully. Mark grasped a full breast and pinched her nipple. I couldn't take my eyes off her heavy face as Alison's tribbing brought me closer and closer to exploding. Her clit nudged my button, and fireworks detonated inside me.

"Oh, fuck!" I moaned, writhing beneath my slut. "Oh, fuck, I'm cumming!"

I closed my eyes, enjoying the delicious feeling of Alison's body. The slut humped me faster and faster, her lips and eyes squeezed shut. I groped her delicious ass, enjoying the feel of her muscles rippling beneath my fingers as she neared her orgasm.

"Oh, Mistress," she gasped. "Oh, yes!"

"Cum, my little whore," I whispered.

"Yes, Mistress!"

Her body shook atop me, and her warm cream flood against my pussy. This was intoxicating. How could I ever give this up? I know I'm a hypocrite for being angry at Mark for enslaving me, and yet I can't help how much it excites me to dominate Alison and Desiree. I wanted to keep that excitement. I wanted to play with all the women Mark controls.

And maybe a few men. I knew Mark didn't want me fucking other men, but if this was going to work, we couldn't stop each other from taking our pleasures where we found it. We had to be completely open, not fearing the lovers either of us take.

I pushed Alison off me and rolled over, snuggling against Mark. He glanced at me and smiled as I kissed his neck and played with his chest hair. Alison slipped behind Desiree, pressing against her back and kissing her shoulder. Desiree smiled as Alison humped her cunt into her plump ass.

"Fuck, that's hot!" Mark moaned as Alison wrapped her hands around Desiree, cupping a heavy breast with one and sliding the other down to play with the Hispanic slut's clit.

"Are you getting close to cumming?" I whispered. "Are you going to cum in that dirty whore's snatch?" I licked his ear, and my hand trailed down his chest and stomach to his curly pubes.

"¡Yo estoy correrse!" Desiree moaned in Spanish, bucking atop Mark.

"Oh, shit!" Mark groaned. "Her cunt's throbbing about my dick!"

"Cum in the slut," I hissed. I loved this! I am so glad I stayed.

"Yes!" he grunted, his entire body tensing against me. Then he relaxed, panting. Desiree rolled off, cum staining her pussy.

"Did you have a good cum?" I asked him.

"Yes," he murmured and kissed me.

Desiree moaned as Alison buried her face into her cunt, eating Mark's cum out of her pussy like a good slut. I smacked Desiree's ass, "You sluts take that out of here."

"Yes, Mistress," Alison said, face sticky with cum and juices, and she pulled Desiree out of the room.

We lazily fed each other cold bacon and french toast, spilling syrup on each other, and then licking the syrup up. I discovered how sexy it was to lick syrup off Mark's chest. And when he licked some off my tits and nipple, that was even sexier. And then we kissed, lips sticky with sweet syrup, and belly's full of Desiree's delicious breakfast. We cuddled; Mark stroked my hair and warmth spread through my body. I was happy. I wanted us to stay like this forever.

Sadly, my bladder had other ideas.

* * *

Mark Glassner

After making love to Mary in the shower, we dressed in the clothes that Alison or Desiree had laid out. Mary pulled on a pair of lacy red panties and a white, corset dress with a short skirt. The dress and panties must have been some of the clothes she bought at Goth Topic while I was behind the register, dick deep in Lillian's cunt--she was a wild slut. Maybe I should have kept her. Mary looked hot and trashy in the dress. Finally, she placed the heart-shaped locket I gave to her around her neck, the locket nestling in her cleavage. It wasn't the only bit of jewelry I acquired for her. An engagement ring was in my jeans pocket.

Mary walked out the sliding glass doors and sat on a love seat on the balcony. I joined her; she snuggled up against me and we stared at the white-capped peak of Mount Rainier. The mountain was as beautiful as always, rising white and blue and gray out of the Cascades Mountains, dwarfing everything about it. A small dome of clouds hovered above the peak.

After a moment's silence, Mary asked, "How do I summon the Devil?"

"Well, you'll need a box," I answered. "And a sexy photo of you."

"It has to be sexy?" Mary asked, surprised.

"Any picture of you would be sexy," I told her, rubbing her thigh. "Especially in this dress." I leered down her bodice. Mary shifted, thrusting out her tits, a pleased smile graced her lips.

"So that's it, I need a sexy photo and a box?"

"Well, there's the yarrow, and the--"

"What's yarrow?"

"It's a small, white flower. We can pick one up at Lawn & Care or Home Build. And then we'll need grave dirt." Mary arched an eyebrow at that. "And, the bone of a black cat."

Mary blinked in surprise. "A bone. You mean you killed a kitty?" Mary asked, plaintively. And then she punched my arm.

I grinned. "No. I bought the bones at an occult shop. Don't ask me where they got them."

"So we need to go buy them?"

"No, they came three for five dollars. So I have two spares back at my apartment.

She breathed in deeply, clearly relieved she didn't have to kill a cat. "Okay, so I guess we need to go shopping for the yarrow."

We found our sluts cleaning the house, still naked.

"Sluts!" I announced.

"Yes, Master," purred Alison, smiling at me and turning off the vacuum cleaner.

Desiree stopped dusting, turning around, and purred, "Mi Rey." She was so sexy. This had been her house before I kicked her husband out and claimed his trophy wife. Brandon didn't deserve this woman. She was far too beautiful for the short, fat, balding millionaire.

"Go out shopping and buy some really slutty clothes to wear outside the house. And for inside the house, the skimpiest, sexiest maid outfits you can find."

Alison gave a wicked laugh, and pinched Desiree's ass. "I know just the place, cutie."

"Take Desiree's car and use her husband's credit cards to pay."

Desiree laughed. "I do love spending his money. It's all he ever was good for."

"You never loved him?" Mary asked, sounding sad. "You were just a gold digger."

"Mi Reina, I'm gay," Desiree answered, then she gave me a smoky glance. "Well, maybe I'm bi now. I do love your cock, mi Rey."

"Mark has that effect on people," Mary laughed. "Umm, also buy a few dildos and strap-ons. I kinda want to try them out.

An image of Mary wearing a strap-on fucking Alison or Desiree flashed in my mind, her perky breasts jiggling as she pumped away; I grinned. Mary saw my smile and returned a wicked one, licking her lips.

"And pick up these art supplies," Mary added, handing over a list. Mary was an artist, attending De Vry University to get a degree in Graphic Design.

"We'll be home very late," I told them. "After midnight, so cook your own dinner and don't wait up."

"I'm sure we'll find a way to amuse ourselves," Alison giggled and pinched Desiree's ass. "She's quite insatiable; I could barely keep up with her last night. But I'm willing to try."

"You better," Desiree purred, "because we're going to have dildo's tonight."

Alison giggled excitedly. "Yes, we will. I bet you'll be so pretty as you moan beneath me."

"Not unless I bend you over the table and bugger that cute ass of yours."

"Promise?" Alison smiled.

"Yes."

Laughing, I hugged Alison, and slipped a small piece of paper with some special instructions. I had big plans for tomorrow. I touched Alison's lips when she opened them, and she grinned at me an nodded.

"Have fun, Masters," she smiled.

"I'm with Mark," Mary laughed. "I'm sure we'll get into lost of depraved fun!"

Alison giggled.

I grabbed my keys, my wallet and my phone, and Mary grabbed her purse. We left the house and climbed into my silver Mustang. Well, it had belonged to this asshole, but I made him trade his new Mustang for my piece of shit car yesterday. The engine roared to life and I sped out of the neighborhood.

* * *

Doug Allard

There was a strange, silver Mustang and a red Volkswagen Eos parked in Brandon's driveway when I arrived to surveil his wife. Brandon thought she was cheating on him, so I've been following her around for a week. So far, nothing, but today was something different. Maybe he had guests staying. I pulled out my camera, attached a zoom lens, and snapped several pics of the cars and their temporary license plates taped in the rear windows. Both were new vehicles and only had dealer plates on, but I noted the temp plate numbers down in my logbook.

I took a sip of the terrible, convenient store coffee and watched.

And watched.

And watched.

I had the radio on, listening to some news talk to take some of the tedium out of it; stakeouts were always boring, but this one was paying very well. So what was a little boredom towards a new roof on the house--that's how my wife planned on spending the money.

The front door opened. Two people, Brandon's houseguests I figured, stepped out. Then I smiled, snapping photos with my camera. Desiree stood in the doorway naked, along with another female with pink hair, and she kissed the strange man--white, a little heavyset, dark hair, late-twenties--quite passionately on the mouth. Then she kissed the woman--white, dark-red hair, early twenties, slim-build--just as passionately.

I guess she was having an affair. And a kinky one at that.

The man and woman walked to the Mustang, and he sped off, gunning the engine down the street and taking the curve with a tire-squealing turn. I pulled my laptop out, booted it up, and used my smart phone as a WiFi hotspot and was on the internet. A few minuets answering questions at the DOL's website, and paying a thirteen dollar fee, gave me access to the car's title.

The registered owner of the Mustang was listed as Anthony Dinapoli. For another thirteen dollars, I accessed Mr. Dinapoli's driving abstract, all a matter of public record, and whistled. His licenses listed him as fifty-one. So who the hell was driving his mustang? A son? I ran the plates on the Eos and came up with a Mary Sullivan, whose driving license matched the young woman I saw get into the Mustang.

I wrote her name down in my logbook. I was about to do some digging on Facebook and Google, when the garage door opened and Desiree's white BMW backed out. I quickly closed my laptop and slipped it back into my satchel, started my car, and followed Desiree--accompanied by the unknown, pink-haired woman--out of the neighborhood.

My phone rang.

"Hey, honey," I said to my wife.

"I know how bored you must be, so I thought I'd help relieve it."

I chuckled, "It's actually getting interesting."

"Really?" Tina asked eagerly.

So I told her what I saw.

"Oh, that's so sordid," she giggled. "Did she host an orgy or something?"

"No idea. But it looks like this case is going to be wrapping up soon. I have all the photos I need to prove her infidelity."

"Always sad," Tina sighed.

"Yeah," I answered. "Well, that's interesting."

"What is?"

"Well, Desiree and the pink-haired woman are heading into a sex shop."

"Wow, it's just getting kinkier."

"Listen, I need to call the client and do some research."

"Sure. Love you, Doug."

"Love you back."

I called Brandon. His phone rang a few times, then he picked up. "Hello." He sounded tired, not his usual, forceful self.

"It's Doug. I have some bad news."

"What?"

"There was a few people staying at your house," I answered. "And I saw your wife kiss both a man and a woman, and she's with another woman right now in a sex shop."

"I know about it," Brandon answered, sounding stiff.

I blinked, floundering as I tried to gather my thoughts. "Oh, well, what's going on. Did you guys--"

"I can't talk about it!" he barked.

"I...what?"

"I cannot talk about it!" he grated.

What the fuck was going on? Blackmail?

"Well, uh, what do you want me to do. I'm following Desiree right now. I have a few leads on the people she's with."

Silence.

"Brandon?"

I heard something muttered that might have been, "He never said anything..." I couldn't make out the last part.

I had a bad feeling about this.

"Follow. Find out what you can. I... Yes. Just watch and follow."

"Any details you can give me?"

"I cannot talk about it!" he screamed.

"Fine," I muttered, wincing and holding the phone from my ear. "There is something really off about this, Brandon. I think I'm going to need triple my fee."

"Done."

"Advanced."

"I'll wire it too you right now." There was a pause, and another muttered, "...never said anything about Doug..."

He hung up.

What the fuck was I involved in? I grabbed my laptop and started googling Mary Sullivan. I needed some answers.

* * *

Sister Theodora Mariam -- Los Angeles, CA

"Keep the change," I smiled at the cabby.

He muttered something in Spanish, taking the bill from my hand. I was dressed in my gray, nun's habit again, the morning heat of LA already baking me beneath the fabric. Sweat beaded on my forehead beneath the white veil. I had changed out of my fun clothes back into my uniform at the airport. I was back from fighting evil, once more a simple nun. No more hot sex and sinning until the next Warlock rears his head.

Which may not be long. Everyone on the plane was buzzing about the terrorist attack in Washington State. But I knew it was a Warlock that had caused the Buy Best Incident, as the news media had dubbed it.

I walked down the brick path past St. Afra, the church I was the caretaker for when not fighting evil, to my tiny, adobe cottage behind the church. A few eucalyptus trees provided shade, and a lovely scent, giving me a respite from the sun. I pulled my keys out of a pocket in my habit and unlocked my door.

The first thing I did was turn on the AC. It coughed to life, filling the room with a momentary, swampy smell, before the cool air began to blow. My cottage wasn't big, and the furniture was all second-hand, but it was comfortable. I dropped my suitcase and hit the button on the answering machine.

"You have one new message," the computerized, feminine voice announced. "First Message."

"Hey, Theodora, I just saw you on the news," the voice of Sister Louise echoed metallically as the recording played. "I am so thrilled that you safely faced another Warlock and freed those women. Call me when you get in."

I picked up the cordless phone, plopping down on the couch, and dialed her number in Chicago. The phone rang a few times. "St. Mary's," Sister Louise said. "How can I help you today?"