The Devil's Pact Pt. 11

"Oh, wow, Lillian. You've become such a wild slut," groaned Anne. "I thought you were bad before."

"Master showed me how a slut really should act," I answered.

"He's the best," Violet moaned. "He taught me to love his cock. I was a lesbian before he popped my cherry in the elevator."

Master was such a stud.

I found Anne's clit, nibbling and sucking. Her juices flowed, pouring into my mouth and down my chin. I loved it. Anne convulsed, letting out a low gasp. She was close. I attacked her clit, sucking and nipping with my teeth.

I wanted her to explode, to cream my lips.

I wanted to drink down her juices.

"Yes!" she moaned, bucking hard. "Oh, Lillian, yes! Oh, fuck! I'm cumming in the middle of the store."

I could hear the gasps of shock from customers walking in. Guys cheered and laughed. Cell phones were recording us. I loved it, my pussy flooding my thighs. Let everyone see Master's sluts having a fun time.

"Damn, Lillian!" Anne groaned. "Oh, fuck, I can't believe we just did that."

I pulled my head away. "It's your turn," I giggled, standing up and pulling up my skirt. "I'm so wet."

Violet pushed Anne down, guiding the blonde's lips to my pussy. The guys watching cheered in delight as Anne's lips buried into my pussy. I shuddered in delight, closing my eyes and savoring the attention as Anne's lips slid through my pussy.

Such wonderful delights. Such treats. I loved it. I was so happy. This is what I needed. To be wild and free. I smeared my pussy on her face, staring out at the horny guys, and a few girls, jiggling my tits at them.

Violet joined me, pressing her budding tits against mine, our tongue swapping as we kissed. The guys loved that. I drank in their attention. Anne's tongue wormed deep into my pussy, fucking me like a mini-cock.

She stirred my passions. My body shuddered.

I came on her lips.

"What is going on?" an authoritative voice boomed. A radio squawked.

I blinked. Mall security pushed through the crowd.

* * *

Agent Noel Heinrich -- Tacoma, WA

I leaned back in the uncomfortable computer chair, a pair of headphones pinching my ears as I listened to the tap on the Puyallup Police Department's communication center. The Judge had signed the warrants, and the phone company set up the tap.

These days, you didn't actually have to put a physical bug to tap a line. You just needed the phone company to punch in a command on their computers and you could listen to any landlines. It was rather boring listening to the 911 calls. So far, nothing that screamed Mark Glassner.

I groaned, pulling them away, adjusting my sandy-blonde hair and rubbing my blue eyes. No one told you just how boring investigations were. I was already on my fifth cop of coffee, my bladder growing full, and my mouth had the disgusting, acid aftertaste.

"911, what is the nature of the emergency," a female operator said.

"Yeah, this is Ryan, head of security down at the South Hill Mall. We have a group of women acting lewd in public. Their naked and, well, doing...things to each other."

I perked up, snapping my fingers at my partner. Peterson sat up, ripping the headphones off his head, disturbing his balding hair. He pulled my headphone's jack out, and suddenly the phone call I was listening to burst loud over the speakers in the room.

"They're in the Goth Topic putting on quite the show," Ryan continued. "My guys tell me there's at least six girls all...doing things. Sex things..."

This had to be Mark.

"I don't see what the problem is," the operator said. "So there's some girls naked and having sex. Correct?"

"Yeah. In our stores. In public."

"That's none of our concern," the operator continued. "There is nothing wrong with that."

"What?" Ryan the security guard grunted. I pictured a fat, ruddy face staring stupidly ahead.

"He's gassed the 911 operators," I groaned to Peterson. "He's really gassed the Puyallup Police Department."

Peterson nodded. "And Mark's at the South Hill Mall right now. We need to move. Call the Pierce County Sheriff. We'll need backup. Their SWAT team with full chemical gear."

"Right," I agreed, standing up and grabbing my jacket. I pulled out my phone and dialed the Pierce Count Sheriff's communication department. "Hi, this is Agent Noel Heinrich, FBI. Badge number..."

* * *

Jessica St. Pierre

Freddy's contact paid off. Just like my cameraman promised, we got our hands on all the Puyallup Police Department's radio communications for the last few days. I came on a hard drive and cost $500 dollars for the info, but that would be worth it if it paid off and proved the Puyallup Police Department had been compromised by Mark Glassner.

Freddy and I sat in the news van on Shaw Road just outside of Mountain View Terrace. About an hour ago, a silver Mustang and a white BMW tore out of there, speeding fast. I didn't catch a good look at the driver, but Mark Glassner was supposed to drive a Silver Mustang.

And that was more proof he was there. Last night, I thought I saw him at the office involved shooting, and he seemed quite friendly with the cops. Even the Chief of Police had shown up. I was certain the Puyallup Police Department was under the control of his gas. I would win an Emmy for breaking this story.

I let out a giddy giggle as I went back to listening to the tapes.

Which was so boring. Most of the communications were so routine, though I was getting better at understanding the messages garbled by static. I stretched my back again as Freddy chugged his energy drink, listening to a police scanner.

My cell phone rang. I pulled it out of my purse. It was Sam, my producer back at the KIRO 7 newsroom. "Hi, Sam," I said.

"Where are you?" he asked.

"South Hill, working this Mark Glassner story," I answered. "I think I may have a line on where he's hiding."

"Really?" The excitement in my producer's voice was unmistakable.

"Uh-huh. I think I just spotted him exciting Mountain View Terrace."

"Isn't that the street the shooting happened at last night?"

"Yep," I answered. "Listen. I'm really beginning to suspect that Mark has the Puyallup Police under his control. He's gassed them or something. I spoke to Agent Peterson, the FBI Agent leading the investigation, this morning, and it was so obvious that he believes it to."

"Did he say anything?"

"Nothing I can report on, but I feel it in my guts."

Freddy gave me a look.

"Freddy thinks so, too," I added.

"Well, we just received a tip that Mark Glassner was spotted both yesterday morning and today jogging naked down Shaw Road near where you're at." Paper rustled. "A Matilda Cranston spotted him. She claims the police didn't care, letting Mark jog unmolested."

"What's her address. I'll get an interview." I let out another excited giggled, I couldn't help myself. "Sam, this is a huge story."

"Go hunt it down," he ordered.

"I will, Sam."

"Hey, Jessica," Freddy said. "There's something go on at the South Hill Mall."

"What?" I asked.

"There are a few cops chatting on the radio, joking with their dispatch that Mark must be having fun again. I guess a few calls are coming into 911, but no one seems to care."

"Let's roll," I grinned. Interviewing Matilda could wait. Time to gather more proof that the Puyallup Police were controlled by Mark.

Chapter Four

And the people fled before him, recognizing the perfect love contained with in the Living God and realizing how empty their hearts truly were. They were not yet ready to comprehend the simplicity of Their message. But they would.

--First book of Vivian 12:31-32

Mark Glassner -- South Hill, WA

I left my sluts to have their fun while I marched down to Enchanted Diamonds, the jewelry store in the mall where I bought Mary her engagement ring. I had more jewelry I needed to order. I strode with confidence, people melting around me.

If any recognized me, none gasped in shock.

I reached the jewelry store and entered the well-lit show room. It was full of glass cases that contained sparkling stones and glinting metal all displayed on black, velvety trays. Patricia, the middle-aged woman I had robbed last time, stood behind the counter.

She flinched when she saw me, fear growing behind her horned-rimmed glasses. That was to be expected; I had left her tied up in the back room. I didn't want her to get in trouble because I stole the ring.

"It's okay, I'm not going to rob you, so relax," I commanded. "I'm not a criminal."

Patrica let out a sigh, lowering her hand from her blouse. A smile slowly grew. "So, did your girl say yes?"

"She did," I grinned, remembering that happy moment atop the Space Needle when Mary said yes.

"Congratulations, son." The old woman let out a sigh. "True love is wonderful, even if the news reports say the awfullest lies about you. I mean, if you loved that girl, you didn't sleep with all those women."

"I did," I said with a shrug. "But Mary understands. In fact, she has fun with us. And that's okay. There's nothing wrong with people having sex whenever, wherever, or with whomever they wish."

Patricia nodded her head, her eyes widening. "I think you're right, son."

"I always am." I reached into my pocket and pulled out a slip of paper I wrote out while waiting on all the paperwork at the dealership. "I need some custom jewelry. I need chokers with these names set in various gems and then engraved on the back."

I explained to her which names would have which metals and which jewels, making sure she understood everything.

"That's at least two weeks, if not longer," Patricia answered. "A lot of work."

"I'll pay double if you get it done in a week. It's your top priority."

She cocked her head as she thought. "Okay, son. I can do that. Double." Her smile broadened. "And is there anything you'd like to get for your fiancee. I have a gorgeous tennis bracelet."

I grinned, and browsed the cases for more jewelry for Mary. I found a ruby bracelet, a diamond necklace, and five pairs of various jeweled earrings. She rang up the purchases and her eyes widened when I pulled out the wads of hundreds.

"Son, a word of advise," Patricia said as she placed the jewelry cases into a black bag. "You try having this many women, it's going to bite you in the ass."

I smiled at her. "Don't worry, I can handle it."

She laughed wickedly. "I bet you can, son, if I was thirty years younger, I'd find out for myself."

"I don't doubt it. You're a saucy--"

My phone rang. I reached into my jeans pocket, pulling it out. "Hello?"

"Mi Rey," Desiree answered. "You need to get down to Goth Topic. Umm, we got a little out of hand."

* * *

Desiree Fitzsimmons

"We're doing nothing wrong!" Lillian declared, facing the security guards topless, her lips still smeared with Anne's juices.

"Yeah," Chasity nodded, marching up. "I'm a cop."

"Right," the guard sneered, staring at Chasity's naked tits. "And I'm a pope. You girls are in so much trouble."

Anne flinched, rising slowly and pulling up her top to cover her tits.

"I'll be right there," mi Rey declared over the phone.

"Thank you," I sighed in relief. Mi Rey would fix everything.

It had been wild until the security guard showed up. My hand was sticky from Xiu's cunt. I had fisted her while Fiona pulled hard on her nipple piercings. Xiu had shuddered and had moaned, loving every moment of it.

The security guards advanced on Lillian and Chasity, one reaching for a can of pepper spray on his belt. Lillian was defiant. She was a slut, and Chasity was even more fierce, slipping into a fighting stance. They were both right. There was nothing wrong with what we were doing. We were having fun. We could have fun.

We belonged to Mark and Mary. They were so powerful. They could do anything.

And so could we if they wished it.

So I joined Lillian and Chasity, folding my arms beneath my impressive tits and staring defiantly at the security guard. "We are not afraid of you," I hissed. "We belong to Mark Glassner."

"And if you touch us, I'll arrest you for assault," Chasity added, her voice stern and authoritative. "Mark Glassner lets us do this."

"We're his sluts!" Lillian added.

"Yeah, you are," a guy in the crowd shouted, pointing his cell phone at us.

I straightened my back, thrusting my large, nut-brown tits at him. Let the entire world see that I was Mark's. Especially that boorish man I married. Brandon. Mark had stolen me from my husband, and he satisfied me in ways no man ever had.

"So leave before mi Rey arrives," I continued. "He's coming."

"Mark Glassner's coming?" a woman gasped.

I nodded my head. "You're cute. I bet you'll love sucking his cock. Put that pretty mouth of yours to use."

The woman fled. What a shame, she had no idea what she was missing out on.

"What the fuck is going on!" mi Rey's voice boomed. "Everyone who's not my sluts, get the fuck out of here. Go home!"

The crowd obeyed, cowed by his voice. Anne gasped, fleeing out of the store. Even the security guards, their faces wide with astonishment, backed away, following the tide of people that parted around mi Rey as he strode up, his arms folded.

An amused smile graced on his lips.

"What have you sluts been up to?" mi Rey asked.

"Playing," Lillian giggled.

"Having fun," Chasity added, relaxing from cop mode into slut mode.

"Just like you told us, Master," Fiona purred.

"Grab your clothes." He shook his head. "Violet, bend that pretty ass over the counter."

"Yes, Master," she purred, obeying quickly, shaking her slim hips. She was eager for mi Rey's cock. Lucky slut.

"Come on, sluts," Lillian said. "Let's find clothes that will fit."

Violet gasped and moaned in the background as Master pounded her naughty pussy hard.

* * *

Jessica St. Pierre

Freddy pulled the news van into the mall parking lot. "This is it," I grinned. "We have a real chance to get a big story."

"Yeah," Freddy said, diving into the back of the news van to grab his equipment. I climbed out, checking my make up one last time. I wanted to look perfect if we recorded anything.

"Hurry up," I shouted, noticing the flood of people pouring out of the mall. Something was definitely going on. A giddy thrill passed through me. "We need to start rolling!"

Freddy came out, the camera slung over his shoulder. He tossed me the microphone. I grabbed it, switching it on. "Mic check," I said, and Freddy flashed me a thumbs up. The red light popped on and he began rolling on the people pouring out.

I pulled out my phone and called my producer. "We're transmitting. Are you receiving? There's something going on at the South Hill Mall. People are pouring out. I think it's Mark."

"Hold on." A door banged open in the background, his feet pounding. Another door smashing and then he said, his voice breathy, "Yeah, we got your feed. Do you have your ear piece in?"

"Yep," I answered, a giddy thrill passing through me.

"Okay, we're going live in thirty seconds."

I hung up, a line producers voice speaking in my ear. I moved in front of the camera, taking a deep breath as the producer counted me down. "We're going live to our reporter in the field, Jessica St. Pierre," Jordan, one of the anchors, reported, her feed piped into my ear piece.

"I'm here at the South Hill Mall were people are flooding out, racing into their cars, and driving off. We have received word that the infamous terrorist Mark Glassner is inside. Despite the panic, no police have yet to arrive."

"Try and interview someone," the producer said in my ear.

"I'll see if I can get the answers from one of the witnesses," I said. A woman passed by, and I reached out and grabbed her. "Do you have a minute to answer some questions, ma'am?"

"I need to get home," the woman said, pushing her arm away from me.

"Why?"

"Because he told me to." And then she was scampering off.

"And you, sir?" I called at a passing man. "Do you have time to answer a question?"

"No. I need to get home."

"Why?"

"Not sure. He said it, and it feels right."

"Who's he, sir?" I knew, but I wanted it spoken and on the record.

"Mark Glassner."

"Did you hear that, Jordan?" I asked, speaking to the anchor back at the studio.

"Astonishing. All these people were told to go home by Mark and they're obeying."

"It's the sort of act he is responsible for," I reported. "Mark's gas is insidious, and people are helpless against it. It leaves them open to suggestions, and they are compelled to obey."

"And you're not afraid of being caught up in it?" Jordan asked.

"A little," I lied. "But the story is so important. Risks have to be taken to get the news." And to get an Emmy. If I had one of those, I could land an anchor job in a major market.

"And why aren't the police on the scene yet?" Jordan asked.

"I'm not sure," I lied again. "But we've been here a few minutes and we haven't heard a single siren. This area is heavily patrolled. I find it hard to believe no cops have arrived yet."

"Hey," Freddy called, pointing his finger.

"Hold on, Jordan, my cameraman has spotted something." I turned to looked. A group of women carrying shopping bags strolled calmly around a man.

Around Mark Glassner.

My heart stopped. The microphone almost fell from my hand. "We have spotted Mark Glassner casually strolling with a group of women."

"We see that," Jordan respond. "That's really him. The terrorist Mark Glassner is striding through the parking lot like he was out on a shopping trip with his friends."

"And those women with him are more of his victims, gassed into believing they are his girlfriends. I know there loved ones must be worried sick about them," I continued, forcing myself to keep talking. What if he noticed us? What if he gassed us? It would be on film.

It was worth the risk.

I lowered my mike, thumbing it off for a moment. "Let's go, Freddy."

"Fuck that," he muttered. "Too dangerous, Jessica."

Mark Glassner and his women piled into three cars, a silver Mustang, a blue Ford Fusion, and a white SUV. One woman, her black hair streaked with blue and gathered in a pair of pigtails, waved at us before climbing into the Ford's driver.

I flipped my mic back on. "Mark and his women are leaving in three separate vehicles."

"Do you know where they're heading?"

"They're heading east through the parking lot disappearing around a bend in the mall."

"Just astonishing," Jordan marveled. "And still no police response."

"It's quite shocking," I agreed, turning back to the camera to continue blathering on while Mark Glassner slipped away.

But I knew where he'd be going. Mountain View Terrace.

* * *

Xiu Liu

We didn't drive far from the mall. Lover's Package, the local sex shop, was in a nearby strip mall.

"Did you see the news crew filming us," Lillian giggled as we pulled into the parking lot. "We'll be on TV tonight. They love talking about Master."

"Of course they do," I giggled, squirming in the seat. We didn't spend much time in Goth Topic once Master arrived. While we quickly found our new clothing, pulling them on right there in the shop in a mad frenzy of searching for all the right sizes, Mark kept telling people to go home when they caught him fucking Violet.

The little slut sure did squeal when Master's cock was shoved up her cunt.

I giggled. We all did. He had the best cock.

"What sort of naughty items are we getting here?" I asked as we climbed out, Master already striding in."

"Kinky, sexy underwear," Lillian purred, striding into the store, the new, black-and-purple tartan skirt swaying about her thighs, barely covering her ass. I wore a similar skirt, only mine was a bright pink with frilly lace decorated with black skulls trimming the hem.