The Devil's Pact Pt. 29

Her lips were soft and tender. I stroked her face and brushed the edges of her headscarf. It was in the way and hid her beauty. I kissed her harder as my hands opened it and pulled it off her head. Her black hair fell free.

I broke the kiss, leaning back to stare at her dusky beauty and the waves of her dark hair framing her face. It was much better than the headscarf.

She pulled me into a kiss, fingers entwining about my neck. I sighed into it, closing my eyes. It was comforting to feel her lips, to know that she was someone who understood what I had gone through, how Mark had warped me.

Our kiss became more passionate, my tongue pressing against her lips. They parted to let me in. She tasted so sweet. I trembled, my breath quickening as my heart beat faster. She pulled me tight, her tongue meeting mine.

We moaned as her hands slipped from my neck to my shoulders. They rested there before the right drifted down the front of my body, following the slope of my breast. She pushed down my low-cut top, exposing my hard nipple. I groaned into our kiss as her finger gently traced my areola, sending a tingling pleasure throughout my body.

"Oh, Thamina," I sighed, breaking the kiss. "That's nice."

"Uh-huh," she said, her dark eyes looking down at my nipple as she circled it. She bit her lip, trembling.

"It's okay," I told her, stroking her cheeks. "I won't judge. Let out your desires. Don't hold them in."

She groaned as she leaned down and captured my nipple with her sucking lips. I cradled her head to my breast, running my fingers through her silky hair. The pleasure tingled down to my pussy. I squirmed and undulated as her tongue loved my nipple.

"Oh, that's nice. I love the way you suck on my nipples."

Her dark eyes flashed up at me, growing glossy with lust. Her hand squeezed my other breast through my blouse, massaging it as she sucked and nibbled and drove me wild. I groaned, my toes curling. It was wonderful.

And then she licked her way back up my chest and throat to my lips. We kissed again. It was so hot and heady. Her blouse brushed my exposed, wet nipple, rasping across it. Her other hand groped my breast harder, her passion rising, sending shivers through me.

Shivers that made my hands itch to explore her.

My fingers fumbled at the buttons of her blouse as we moaned into our kiss. Finally, I pushed open her blouse and found her breasts, caressing them through her bra. But I wanted to feel them naked in my hand. I traced the band behind her back, reaching and fumbling, finding the clasp. It was harder to unclasp another person's bra than my own. It took me a few times, and then the clasp came undone.

I broke the kiss as I pulled off her bra, staring at her unveiled, dusky breasts and her dark nipples. So hard, begging to be sucked.

So I did.

"Fiona," Thamina murmured as I sucked her nipple into my mouth. "This is so wrong."

"Is it?" I asked. "Is it really wrong? We're comforting each other. Can you stop that?" I latched on again, sucking on her nipple, savoring how it felt between my lips. It was so wonderful in my mouth.

"I can't," she sighed. She lifted my lips from her nipple and stared into my eyes. "I can't stop comforting you. I... I need this."

"Me, too."

Her lips were so hot on mine. She pushed down the straps of my blouse off my shoulders, exposing both my breasts. My hard nipples kissed nubs. I loved that feel. I wiggled my shoulders as we kissed, stroking my nipples across her areolas, savoring the tingles.

Her hands lifted my skirt and rolled my thong down my legs as we kissed. I lifted my ass, helping her out until the garment bunched around my knees then slipped to my ankles. Her hands stroked my thighs, sending hot waves up my pussy.

Which gave me naughty ideas.

"Mmm, you are getting me all excited," I purred, breaking the kiss.

She smiled shyly.

I pushed Thamina to the floor and straddled her knees. I pushed up her long skirt until it bunched about her waist, exposing a pair of plain, boring panties. I shook my head. She was so prim and proper. "We're not sluts any longer, but you don't have to dress like a nun."

"Those nuns seemed pretty slutty," Thamina said, face tightening.

I swallowed. "Didn't mean those nuns." I stared at her panties. "These have to go."

I pulled them down her dusky thighs, exposing a V of black hair adorning her pudenda pointing at her waxed, wet cunt. I grimaced; my pussy was also waxed bare because of Mark's perversions. We had sex with those Thai girls who waxed us after they finished, more people under his control.

I didn't want to think about that. I needed to be distracted. I lifted my skirt, exposing my pussy, and pushed her legs apart. I settled atop her and kissed her chin as our breasts rubbed together, I slid my hips down and groaned as our clits brushed.

This was a sweet distraction.

"Oh, Fiona," she sighed as I tribbed her. "Oh, that feels so nice."

"Uh-huh," I moaned, snatches of tribbing with Mary flashing through my mind. I concentrated on rubbing my clit against Thamina's, ignoring my memories.

Heat burned between us as our clits kissed. The sensual slide of hot flesh on hot flesh. I nibbled and sucked on her chin, loving the way she sighed and moaned. Her hands slid up and down my naked back, tingling pleasure racing down my body.

She shuddered beneath me, thighs wrapping about my hips. She ground back, undulating her waist, matching my rhythm as we ground our clits together. Pleasure shuddered through me each time our clits brushed.

"Your clit feels so good on mine," I purred into the nape of her neck. So good.

"Uh-huh," she moaned and then her hands caught my strawberry-blonde hair and pulled me up to kiss her.

Our hips rolled and pumped as we tribbed each other. Thamina's hands roamed my back, her fingers lightly tracing my muscles and spine, leaving little trails of fire across my skin. I rubbed our clits together with hard, slow thrusts of my hips, building the pleasure inside me.

Our tongues dueled as we pleasured each other. They danced together, matching the play of our clits. She was so exotic. Everything about her excited me, drove me wild. My eyes fluttered as I sighed into the kiss.

She grew more and more aggressive, fingernails sometimes digging into my ass as she humped up against me. She moaned into the kiss, trembling beneath me. Her flesh was so hot and silky, exciting me more.

I tribbed her hard.

Her hands shot down my back and grasped my ass. Fingernails bit into my plump cheeks, pulling me harder into her pussy. She bucked beneath me, her tongue dueling with mine as she shuddered and writhed.

"Fiona! Fiona!" Thamina gasped, breaking our kiss. "Oh, you are driving me crazy! I'm so close."

"Cum," I hissed, grinding our clits harder, faster together.

Thamina bucked beneath me as her orgasm exploded inside her. She gasped so sweetly, squeezing my ass almost painfully as her passion overcame her. Her nipples were hard, brushing mine as her neck arched.

"Fiona!"

I buried my lips into her neck as she trembled beneath me. My pussy clenched. I was so close to erupting. I rubbed against her clit once... Twice... And then I screamed out her name as my pussy convulsed and my orgasm surged through my body.

The pleasure wracked my body. I savored the feel of her beneath me, the smell of her hair and skin as I screamed my bliss into her neck. I bucked and shuddered on her. Waves of bliss washed through me until they peaked, leaving me gasping.

"Wow." I settled my weight on Thamina to cuddle with her and enjoy the post-orgasmic bliss.

But Thamina pushed me off her.

I rolled off and gave her a questioning look. "Is something the matter? I thought that was amazing."

She didn't look at me as she pushed down her skirt then pulled her blouse back on. She buttoned up as I watched her. She whispered, "That was wrong, Fiona. We can't do this again."

"Then why did it feel so good?"

"It felt good with Mark and Mary," Thamina answered. "That didn't change how wrong it was, did it?"

No. It really didn't.

"But was it wrong for us to do it?" I persisted. "We were both consenting."

"It was." She pulled on her headscarf, hiding her luxurious, black curls. "If you want to take a shower, feel free."

"Because I'm covered in sin," I snapped, standing up straight. "I'm not ashamed of what we did."

Then I marched off to the bathroom and turned on the spray. I wanted to wash off and forget about her. It was a mistake to cum in her. I should have just gone to a friend's house or back home to my parents. Put distance between me and Mark and what happened.

But then she slipped into the shower and kissed me. I was shocked, confused, and so horny. She was wet and naked and slippery in my arms. We rubbed our pussies on each other's thighs beneath the warm spray until we came.

"It won't happen again," she said, then she slipped out.

But it did after the shower, our bodies writhing on her bed, our gasps echoing through the room.

"It won't happen again."

It happened again in the kitchen as she tried to make dinner. As much as she tried to deny it, she couldn't fight her passions. And I didn't want her to. After, we sat at the table, eating dinner. I was aware that my robe was half-open, my breasts bobbing before the edge, my nipple exposed.

"Do you need a place to stay?" Thamina asked halfway through the meal of rice and frozen vegetables.

"Yeah," I answered hoping for more fun.

"Then, you can stay here." Thamina took a deep breath. "But, do not expect us to do that again. The last time was the last!"

"Of course not," I said, nodding soberly. I grabbed my plate and went to her sink to start rinsing it when I felt her body press against mine from behind.

"We can't do it anymore," she whispered as her lips found the back of my neck. "Because it's wrong."

Her hand slid up my thigh underneath my skirt. I moaned softly when she found my bare pussy. I didn't know what Thamina and I had. It certainly wasn't love. But it was comforting. I gasped as she slipped a finger inside my pussy.

Comforting and fun.

Chapter Three

Samnag Soun is theorized to be the true power behind the Tyrants. The Holy Vizier held the intelligence the Tyrants only pretended to possess.

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

Jessica St. Pierre

I didn't know what to think when Mark freed me from his... power? Spell? I didn't really know what to call it. Who would think magic and all that crap was real?

What I did know was I needed a drink.

I left Fiona and Noel to argue and headed out of the house into the sunshine. It was a different world now. Everything had changed this afternoon. Like it had the day Mark jogged naked up to my news van and claimed me.

I headed to my car parked out on the street and froze at the sight of it. My poor baby, a powder-blue Prius, had the passenger window shot out and a line of bullet holes leading to the trunk. The back seats were ruined, stuffing strewn everywhere.

"Of course," I sighed. "I hope you still run, baby."

I climbed into the car, pushed the button to start it up--it did--and drove past my colleagues in the media kept at bay by the local cops. American Joes was the first bar I found. It looked like a dive, but I didn't care. I needed a drink desperately. I walked inside and made a beeline straight for the bar. The few people in the bar, three men and a woman, had their attention fixed on the TV. It was Debra reporting about what happened this afternoon.

My heart hammered and a fearful twist shot through my stomach. I could hear the sounds of cracking gunfire and ricocheting bullets again. I had spent the firefight crouched behind a car next to Debra while her cameraman fearlessly filmed the firefight.

"Get in cover," Debra kept shouting at him.

"I was in Fallujah during the Surge," he had said dismissively.

I had never felt so alive as during those few minutes as the bullets cracked and hissed. It was almost intoxicating when it was happening. Being around Mark and Mary was intoxicating, too.

"Fucked up," the guy at the bar said as I sat down. He gave me a look. I was dressed in my reporter garb--and not the sexy one I wore in the house. That one would get me arrested in public.

Well, no, Mark had all the local cops under his power, and they knew I served him. Well, I did serve him. And maybe...

"You look like you could use a drink," grunted the heavyset bartender.

"Whatever light beer you have on tap," I said. I had a decision to make; best to avoid the hard stuff.

But it called to me, sitting on the top shelf, beckoning.

He filled me a mug of Coors Lite, the foamy head white. I sipped it and thought.

It was wrong what Mark did to me. That was painfully obvious. It was like the ultimate roofie. Except I was fully conscious and wanted to do it. I could remember the excitement I felt because of his commands, robbed of my will but allowed to enjoy myself.

It was power.

I shifted on the bar stool. Mark was a powerful man. And he was only growing more and more powerful every day. And powerful men got what they wanted one way or the other. His way was direct and, well, when you were under the control, obeying didn't seem like a problem at all. There was never even a tiny part of me that objected until he freed me.

And the power...

What would he do with it? Mary was guiding him into running for public office, to shape the world and transform it into a better place. He could make it a better place. I frowned. And I could be there, helping him, in the thick of it. Mark already relied on me to help the media.

And so what if he fucked me? The sex was amazing.

My pussy grew juicy in my silk panties just thinking about it. Mark was so powerful, and I could be one of his favorite women. I shuddered at the thought. I pulled my choker out of my skirt pocket. A gold plate on the front with my name written in sapphires. I rubbed the engraving: "Mark and Mary's slut forever."

Forever...

Forever the lover of the most powerful man in the world.

There was no doubt in my mind just how powerful Mark was after today. He healed himself after he was shot five times. He should be dead. Damn, he would be the most powerful man in the world. Ooh, that made me really juicy.

After finishing off my beer, I clasped the choker about my throat.

* * *

Samnag "Sam" Soun

The argument made thinking too hard. I retreated to Mary's studio where I had set up my efforts to translate the Magicks of the Witch of Endor. I sat down at the desk, the tome opened, my ancient semitic dictionaries and reference books scattered around it along with copious notebooks filled with my efforts.

The last few days had definitely been strange. One minute I was working on my Ph.D. dissertation at NYU and the next I became the plaything of Mark and Mary. They had fucked me in the manuscript room and made me their slut to translate this book.

I had read a lot of books like it, claiming to have secret formulas or magical spells. They were common in the ancient world. Egypt spread their mystery religion across the Mediterranean. The Greeks turned it into a scientific discipline, adding mathematics and transforming it into what would become alchemy.

But the really wild part was all the spells and rituals in the book were real.

Mark had sold his soul for power and used that power to control me. I was torn; I did not want to be his plaything, but the magic was so intriguing. There were just such fascinating spells in the book. And I hadn't even translated it all yet. I had found a spell that could steal a nun's powers and give it to a Warlock. Another spell let you summon the spirits of the dead to scry with. The book told you how to summon a variety of demons: Asherah, Marduk, Lilith, Hadath, Molech, Astarte, Chemosh, Baal-zebub, Dagon, Tammuz, Milcom, Ashtoreth, and, of course, Lucifer. The very being Mark and Mary apparently made their pacts with was in here. And there were magics in here even I could perform. Most required you to sell your soul to a demon, to become a Warlock, but anyone could conjure the dead or heal the sick.

I found one spell that only a woman could cast.

I flushed, remembering what the spell did. It allowed a woman to conjure her own cock. It granted a woman "the seed of life like a man, and to plant that seed in a fertile vessel." What would it be like to have my own cock? Like in those perverted hentai I used to watch. To be a beautiful woman and have a dick.

To be a futa.

I groaned, growing so hot. I squirmed in my chair. The flood of juices leaking out of me stuck my flesh to the leather of the seat. As I squirmed, my sticky flesh on the chair made such a depraved sound. I was juicy and eager to try it out.

I slid my hands down my naked flesh to my waxed pussy. Last Monday, Mary sent me to a salon to get my thick, black bush waxed. It was weird feeling bare down there, and strange to play with my pussy and not feel my wiry hair tickling my fingers.

But I liked it.

I teased my slit, running my hand up and down my labia. My breath caught as I pictured a cock thrusting out from me as I pinched my clit. The very organ which, if I understood the translation, would become my dick. It would thrust hard before me, eager to penetrate a woman and fuck her.

"Oh, you want my cock," I moaned, leaning back in the seat, rubbing my little nub as my fantasy came to life.

I imagined bending caramel-skinned Jessica over the arm of the couch. Her beautiful ass wiggling. Since joining the harem, I had come to appreciate a woman's ass. She would look behind her, staring at me with desire in her eyes.

Cum fuck me, she would moan, wiggling that ass. I need that girl-dick in me.

"Yes, you do," I moaned aloud, picturing it perfectly.

I would move to her, rubbing my shaft up and down, savoring how her silky pussy lips felt against it. Then I would thrust into the warm depths of her pussy. She would shudder and moan while I savored how tight and wet she would feel.

I slipped my fingers up inside me, imagining the feel of my hot cunt wrapped about my digit magnified a hundredfold. Jessica's pussy would feel all warm and slippery around my girl-dick as I drew back and slammed in.

Yes, yes, yes, she gasped in my imagination, moaning so beautifully as I fucked her. Her caramel breasts would shake from my thrusts, waving her dark nipples about. I would spank her ass as I fucked her and pull on her honey-brown hair.

I dug my fingers faster and faster into my cunt while pinching my clit with my other hand. I leaned back in the computer chair. Jessica would cum on my cock, her pussy clenching, and she would gasp my name.

Cum in my pussy, Sam!

"I'll flood your pussy, slut."

The fantasy was intense. I shuddered, cumming so fast. The chair creaked beneath me while my pussy spasmed about my fingers. I bit my lip, groaning as the pleasure boiled through my body. Wave after wave of bliss caressed my mind. I heaved a final time then fell limp on the chair.

"Damn," I groaned. "What an amazing cum."

Breathing heavily, I sucked my fingers clean of my tangy, spicy flavor. Then I grabbed my notes and found the passage for the Shophkah spell. I read the ritual again. It was simple. I just needed a woman to lie with.

It was so tempting to cast the spell. The image of having a cock already made me want to cum again.

I chewed on my fingernail as I debated performing the spell. This might be my last night of freedom. Just because Mark and Mary claimed they would free the other sluts, there was no way they would let me go. They needed the knowledge in this book.