The Devil's Pact Pt. 06

Chapter One

Sister Louise Afra was the most senior Magdalenite Nun working in North America. Her fifty-year career was marked by a number of dangerous Warlocks. The most infamous Warlock she exorcised before tackling the Tyrants was Kurt Wagner, a sociopath that brutally abused the women he enthralled.

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

Friday, June 7th, 2013 -- Sister Louise Afra -- Chicago, IL

"I'm so sorry about the mix-up, Sister Louise," the check-in clerk at Chicago's O'Hare International said, disbelief tinging her voice whenever she said "sister." The clerk, Nancy, still didn't quite believe I was a nun. I couldn't blame her since I was dressed in a tight, cobalt blue dress that barely covered my ass and had a deep, plunging neckline. The stiletto heels I wore made my rear nice and perky, and thigh-high, black stockings, held up by garters, peeked out beneath my skirt. Nestled between my breasts was a gold crucifix.

For the last thirty years, I have been Sister Louise Afra, of the Order of the Sisters of Mary Magdalene, dedicated to fighting against the Forces of Darkness. To aid us in our mission, certain Gifts had been bestowed. One of those gifts was youthful beauty. I was fifty-one, but still had the perky breasts, smooth skin, fresh face, and tight ass of an eighteen year old. I was gifted with Sight, allowing me to see the mark of Evil on people's aura and the Providence of God would guide me in my mission. So long as I had faith, chance and coincidence would lead me unerringly to my goal.

My mission, and the purpose of my Order, was to exorcise Warlocks and free their Thralls. Depending on their wishes, Warlocks could inflict a lot of damage. Most Warlocks, particularly males, wished for a power that allowed some form of domination over others, making the person their Thrall. Often it was to fulfill some pathetic, sexual desire. The only way to stop a Warlock, short of killing him, was exorcism.

And that was what the dress, and the other skimpy clothing in my suitcase, were for. To exorcise a Warlock, I had to fuck him, or her, and when they orgasmed, I would rob them of their powers. Seduction was one of the many tools we nuns used.

Of course, fucking a man out of wedlock or engaging in lesbian sex were mortal sins. While I could go to confession after my mission was done and gain absolution, it was far simpler for my Order to receive a Papal Indulgence. So, after the Archangel Gabriel visited his Ecstasy upon me two hours ago, sending me on my mission, a Papal Indulgence had arrived by fax, signed by the Pope himself. I was forgiven, in advance, for all my sins I would commit until my mission was done.

And I planned to sin a lot!

It was one of the perks of fighting evil. So I had packed my bags in a hurry, excited to fight some evil. And to get laid. Suitcases in hand, I walked out of the small, caretakers house at St. Mary and found a cab idling on the street. Some would call that lucky, but I had faith that Providence was at work. Until my Mission was complete, the Lord would guide me to those who would help me until I was ready to face the Warlock. When I arrived at O'Hare, I believed I was heading to Washington State to tangle with the Warlock causing problems.

But I didn't know that for sure.

"Well, here's your ticket, Sister," Nancy said and I smiled warmly at her, stroking her hand gently as she handed me my ticket and boarding pass. She jerked her hands back and gave me a weird look. She was probably not used to a woman, let alone a nun, flirting with her. "Sorry for the system error."

I sighed, glancing at the tickets, I had an hour kill before my flight and spending that time with Nancy, maybe in a cozy bathroom stall, would have been nice. Thirty years ago, I had been dominated by a female Warlock, the first of the many ladies she had in her harem, and I had grown fond of loving women. The many different shapes their breasts could take, or the curves of her hips and ass, and all the different shapes and sizes a woman's labia could form. I licked my lips, thinking of the varied musk a woman exudes when she's aroused. I was getting wet just thinking about it.

I looked at my ticket to see where I was headed. I had a non-stop flight to Sea-Tac International Airport, departing in forty-minutes and scheduled to land in Seattle at 2:20 am, local time. I tried to do math in my head and thought it was almost a four and a half hour flight.

I had fond memories of Washington State. Twelve years ago I had stopped this Warlock, Kurt, who thought he was a rock star, using his power to convince people how amazing he sounded on guitar and recruiting about a dozen women to his harem. I had exorcised him and rescued the women, recruiting one to the order--Sister Theodora Mariam.

Sister Theodora had been a wreck after being freed. The Warlock had made her divorce the husband she loved and abandon her three daughters. She required a lot of consoling afterward. We had spent two wonderful weeks on the California coast, making love on the beach, or anywhere else we could get our hands on each other, before she took her vows and received her Gift.

She had just returned from Phoenix this afternoon, calling me up and telling me all about the Warlock named Tex she had exorcised. Warlocks were popping up more and more often. When I joined thirty years ago, I only went on a mission once a year. Then it was twice, thrice, and now it seemed like it was once a month. Something was changing, and the order was growing weaker and weaker.

"Final boarding for Flight 341 nonstop to Seattle is boarding at Gate 17," a woman announced over the speaker.

I glanced at my ticket, and walked faster to the gate.

"You just made it," the gate attendant smiled, taking my boarding pass. "I guess someone was watching out for you."

I nodded. Providence at work.

I had First Class tickets, and there were only two other passengers, both frazzled business men who quickly fell asleep after take off. The First Class stewardess was a dusky beauty named Sarai, who wore a white, long sleeved shirt and navy blue vest that her tits filled out nicely. A navy blue pencil skirt clung tightly to her hips and legs. Her face had an exotic beauty to it and her accent was musical. When she handed me my champagne, her fingers lingered a moment on my wrist, igniting fire that ran down my body and quickened my loins.

I smiled seductively at her. "I'm Sister Louise," I purred.

"I'm Sarai," she answered back. "Please, do not hesitate to ask for anything. It's my job to satisfy any need you have."

I hoped so.

After the flight leveled out, Sarai brought me a second flute of champagne and sat in the seat across the aisle from me. She had her own flute, and held her finger up to her lip. "Shhh, it's our little secret."

"I'm sure you've earned it," I flirted back, winking.

"You have no idea," she sighed, rubbing a foot in her dark blue, comfortable looking shoes. "But it's worth it when you meet such beautiful people."

"I bet," then I looked around and leaned over the aisle, and slid her shoe off and socks and massaged her foot. Sarai shifted in her seat, turning so her feet dangled over the armrest into the aisle.

"Umm, that's nice," Sarai purred. "So, is it business or pleasure that brings you to Seattle?"

"Both," I answered. "I'm a nun, a Magdalenite Sister. I have somethings to attend to in Seattle, but I'm hoping to experience some of the pleasure's of the Pacific Northwest."

Sarai seemed puzzled. "A nun, huh? You're not what I expected."

Clearly she wasn't used to a nun hitting on her, but she relaxed as I continued rubbing her foot with firm pressure, kneading her soles with my thumb. I leaned over to, pretending to get a better grip on her foot, but really to let her get a good view down my cleavage.

"My order is very unorthodox," I answered, switching to her other foot. Her legs spread and I caught a brief gimps of her panties--leopard print, what a naughty girl.

"I'm Muslim," Sarai confided, "so I haven't had a lot of experience with nuns."

"I've always wondered, but is the mile high club a real thing?" I asked, continuing my massage. "I mean, have you ever heard people...you know...in the lavatories?"

Sarai giggled, getting a little tipsy from the champagne. "It happens occasionally. We try to be discrete if we discover it. Usually, if you knock on the door it flusters the couple so much that they quickly leave."

"Have you ever done it?"

There was a naughty twinkle in her eye. "Maybe."

"Ohh, you naughty girl!" I whispered. She winked at me, fluttering those long lashes. I let go of her foot and downed the rest of my champagne and felt a pressure in my bladder. "Excuse me, I need to pop into the ladies room real quick."

Sarai smiled warmly and finished off her champagne.

I stood up, grabbing my beaded purse, and stumbled a bit as the plane hit some turbulence. I made it to the First Class lavatory and slipped in, quickly doing my business, washing my hands, and checking my makeup in the mirror. My face was round and doll-like with sky gray eyes and plump lips that just begged to be kissed. I touched up my red lipstick and adjusted my top so my tits were more visible and opened the door, eager to get back to flirting with Sarai.

Only she was standing outside waiting for me, a hungry look on her face.

"I was wondering if you need any assistance?" she purred.

"Yes, I do."

I pulled her into the lavatory, kissing her fiercely. Sarai's tongue was hot and dexterous as she probed my mouth. She shoved me against the wall and pulled up my skirt, exposing my black garters and the curly thatch of light brown pubic hair.

"Are you really a nun?" Sarai asked, sliding a finger slowly through my vulva. She brushed my clit and I shuddered in delight. "I mean, what kind of nun doesn't wear panties?"

"Oh, yes, I'm a nun!" I moaned. "But we're still human. We still have desires!"

I captured her lips in another kiss as her finger slowly rubbed circles on my clit. "But, how can you be gay and still be a nun?" she pressed, teasing my clit so wonderfully. Electricity surged through my body, tingling along all my nerves.

"We all serve the Lord in our own ways," I panted. "We all have our sins we struggle with, crosses we bear. Oh, fuck, you're making me cum, you hot little bitch!"

Sarai kissed my lips, stifling my moans as I came on her fingers. Pleasure rolled through me, shuddering through my body. I loved it. There was something so soft and amazing about a woman's fingers sliding in and out of your pussy.

"You are a bad nun, aren't you?" Sarai hissed, licking my fingers and then holding them up so I could taste myself. "A naughty nun who loves to sin!"

"Yes, I am! Do you always fuck your passengers in the bathroom?"

"Only the beautiful ones," Sarai said and started to unbutton her vest. Her shirt followed, slipping to the floor of the lavatory revealing a strapless, leopard print bra that clasped in the front. The bra matched the panties I had glimpsed. I reached out and freed her tits. They were plump and full, so I rubbed my face between them, enjoying her silky skin. I found a hard, dark nipple and sucked it into my mouth. "Umm, that's nice," moaned Sarai.

"Wait until you feel my mouth on your pussy," I promised.

"I can't wait."

I kissed down her stomach and she giggled as I tongued her cute bellybutton. My hands slid down her hips, pulling her skirt so it bunched about her hips. Her leopard print panties were wet with desire, pulled tight so I could see her delicious cameltoe. I breathed in her arousal, an intoxicating musk.

"You smell delicious," I purred. "I can't wait to taste you!"

"Pull my panties and eat my pussy!"

I hooked my fingers in the waistband of her panties and slowly pulled them down. Her pussy was shaved bare, vulva glistening with sticky juices. For a moment, a gleaming line of juices linked pussy and panties before it snapped. Her snatch was beautiful, clit hard and throbbing, vulva red with passion.

Thank you, Lord, for this bounty, I prayed silently, then feasted on her womanhood. My tongue swiped through her juicy lips and met resistance. She still had a hymen.

"You're a virgin?" I gasped, in surprise.

"A good Muslim girl saves herself for marriage," Sarai answered rotely.

"And Allah doesn't have a problem with you fingering women?" I asked with suspicion.

She giggled, "No more than Jesus has a problem with you eating another woman's cunt." The minx had me there.

I found it exciting to eat out a virgin's cunt, even if she was only technically a virgin. I could not fuck my tongue deeply into her pussy as I would like, so I settled for lapping along her labia, drinking her musky flavor. My thumb found her hard little clit and rubbed it in fast, hard circles as I devoured her sex. Sarai gasped, her hips grounding her pussy on my face and her tits heaving with excitement.

"Oh yes," Sarai moaned quietly. "Eat my virgin cunt! Oh, fuck, you're tongue feels amazing on my virgin pussy." She panted hard, and, as her orgasm approached, she lost her English, chanting in Arabic. Musky cream flooded my mouth, drenching my face with her passion and I drank her bounty. She was panting, eyes closed, and whispered, "That was amazing!"

I smiled as I rose kissed her. She eagerly licked her musk off my face. God had delivered me a virgin, and I was excited to take my reward. I reached for my purse. She eyed me, her eyebrows furrowing, as I rooted around in my beaded purse then pulled out a small, purple dildo and the strap-on harness. Fear quickened in her eyes, and she backed away from me as I pulled the strap-on up my slender legs.

"We should be leaving," Sarai said, licking her lips. "The other passenger's might be awake."

I adjusted the straps, making sure the dildo rubbed on my hard clit, then smiled hungrily at her. "I thought you said you were here to satisfy me?"

"Please, miss." Sarai backed up, bumping into the door.

I reached back behind my neck, undoing the lacings that held my dress up. The fabric fell away, exposing my small, perky breasts. Sarai swallowed, staring lustfully at my hard nipples. I stepped forward and she flinched as the dildo touched her stomach. Another step, and my pale tits kissed dark breasts.

"Don't you want to stop being a good Muslim girl?" I asked, leaning in to kiss her. "Don't you want to be bad?"

"I-I," she stuttered.

I slid the dildo between her legs, rubbing up against her slick cunt. "Don't you want to experience all the pleasures Allah gave you?" I kissed her neck, and slid the dildo up and just into her pussy, pressing gently against her hymen. "Your pussy was made to be fucked, and it feels so amazing when a hard object fills you up." I licked her ears. "You're getting wet thinking about my dildo fucking your cunt."

She shook her head, trying to wiggle away from my invading dildo.

"Just admit you want a beautiful woman to take your virginity! To make you a dirty, filthy, lesbian whore!"

She looked at me, tears shining in her eyes. "Allah, forgive me," she whispered and nodded her head.

"Say it!" I hissed. "Beg me to make you my lesbian whore."

"Please," she whispered hoarsely. "Please, fuck my virgin cunt! Please, make me your lesbian whore!"

She gasped as I fucked the hard piece of plastic through her hymen, the dildo rubbing pleasantly on my clit. I fucked Sarai hard and fast; she moaned delightfully into my ear. The door rattled from the force of our fucking. Just outside this door, two men slept. They could wake up at any moment. Or another stewardess could discovers us, or even the pilot. We could be discovered without warning, and that made the sex even hotter.

"Oh, fuck!" Sarai gasped loudly. "Oh, fuck my pussy. Oh, this is so amazing!"

"If you keep being so loud, someone's going to hear," I whispered in her ear as I fucked her. "Unless, you want to be caught." I giggled. "You want to show the world that your a bad, little Muslim girl. A dirty, whorish lesbian."

"Yes!" she hissed and shuddered as she came on the dildo. "I'm a dirty, lesbian slut. I love sucking tits and eating cunts!"

What a wild slut she was.

* * *

Saturday, June 8th, 2013 -- Mark Glassner -- South Hill, WA

It was one in the morning when we arrived back at the house we "borrowed" from Brandon Fitzsimmons. It was a magnificent house, wasted on the fat man. I also "borrowed" his hot, Latina trophy wife. It had been so hot fucking Desiree right in front of him.

It was dark inside. Alison and Desiree were already asleep--I had told them not to stay up--and we headed for our bedroom and slipped naked into bed, the red crystal still clutched in my hand.

The Devil's words echoed in my head: If you are ever in trouble, hold this crystal and say 'Lilith, appear before me,' and help will appear.

"Why do I need this?" I asked Mary as she snuggled her warm body against mine, holding the crystal up; it sparkled red in the bedside lamp's light. "What danger is he talking about."

Mary, her face pale, shook her head.

"And who or what is Lilith?"

"That name is familiar," Mary murmured. "I think it's from Vampire: The Masquerade."

"Wait, what?" I asked, staring incredulously at her. "You played that?"

Mary laughed. "Yeah, there was a six months or so in my junior year of high school that I really got into Twilight. And a friend introduced me to the local Vampire: the Masquerade Coven and I spent Tuesdays and Thursday nights LARPing as the Vampiress Damona."

"Wow," I grinned, amused. "You LARPed."

"Yeah," she admitted, sounding slightly embarrassed. "Although, we just hung out and dressed in the awfullest black clothing and wore too much black makeup. With my pale skin I looked like a corpse. Which I guess was the point, but I never really liked it. "

"I don't know," I said, "I bet you were real sexy as a goth." I pictured Mary, black dress contrasting to her pale skin, black lipstick staining her lips. Her auburn hair would add an exciting splash of color, draped over one shoulder and falling down into her cleavage.

"Anyway," she said, frowning at me. "I'm pretty sure Lilith was the mother of monsters, or something like that. Some demon, or something like that. One of the vampire cults had something to do with her."

I grabbed my smart phone out and googled Lilith. "Huh," reading the Wikipedia page. "She was a Canaanite goddess and, according to Jewish mythology, was Adam's first wife, but she refused to submit to his authority, so he divorced her and married Eve."

"Good for her," Mary said.

The fact that I had initially used my powers to control Mary was still a sore subject between us, so I didn't rise to her bait, and continued reading. "Let's see. After leaving Adam, she became the mother of monsters and a succubus."

"Just like I said," pointed out Mary.

"Sorry if I didn't want to trust Vampire: The Masquerade for my information," I apologized, testily.

"Just Wikipedia."

"It's pretty reliable," I defended. She arched an auburn eyebrow. "Fine, I'm sorry I didn't believe you."

"Good," she said, nodding and smiling.. "As long as you remember that I'm always right, things will go smoothly for you, Mark."

Wisely, I chose not to dispute that. "So, why would I need the mother of monsters help?" I asked, changing the subject.

Her eyebrows furrowed. "I don't know, maybe..."

We talked for a while longer, going round in circles about theories and speculations. In the end, we gave up and I promised to keep the crystal with me at all times, just in case. Mary snuggled up against me and fell asleep without a problem. And it turned out she snored. It was soft and kinda cute. As I grappled with dark thoughts, trying to sleep, I found her snores...comforting. I wasn't alone in the dark. Mary would be there with me to face whatever danger the Devil saw in my future.