The Devil's Pact Pt. 40

"Fucking puta," he groaned as he moved around the bed. "I'll tear that ass up!"

"Do it!"

He smacked my ass. I squealed in delight. Then the tip of his cock slid into my butt-crack. He searched for my tight hole, and found it. I shuddered as he thrust, his dick forcing me down Brasher's fat shaft. My sphincter widened as his pussy-lubed dick invaded my asshole.

"Oh, god!" I moaned as his long cock slid deeper and deeper into my bowels, filling me up, stuffing me like Brasher's dick stuffed my pussy.

I had two dicks in me. Both my holes full of hard cock. I loved it.

Santillian and Brasher both worked their hips, pumping their shafts in and out of my holes. I shuddered, my hips finding a rhythm with their thrusts. I rode up and down Brasher's dick while Santillian's prick plundered my asshole over and over.

I moaned as the two cocks reamed my holes. Electricity rippled through me as both shafts pistoned in and out of me. It was so amazing to be stuffed full of cock. I moved my hips, drinking in the silky, wet friction in my pussy and the rough, velvety delight in my asshole.

"Oh, fuck, yes!" I groaned. "Pound my slutty holes!"

"We will, chica!" panted Santillian. "Won't we, vato?"

"Yes!" Brasher grunted, bucking harder upward, his hands clenching my tits.

Two dicks sawed in and out of me, rubbing my sensitive flesh and driving me wild with passion. My holes drank in the friction. My orgasm swelled so hard and fast in me. I grunted, eyes fluttering as such rapture surged through me.

Flesh slapped against flesh. My clit ground into Brasher's pubic bone. Santillian's heavy balls smacked into my taint. I groaned and whimpered, stirring my holes around their two cocks. They mixed me to a hot froth. I quivered, so close to my orgasm.

Santillian seized a handful of my hair, yanking back my head. "You are one fuckin', wild puta! You're not going to be able to walk tomorrow after we're done fucking you!"

"Oh, yes!" I screamed. "Fuck me harder! Make me cum on your dicks!"

I shoved my ass back, burying his cock deep inside me, then I slammed my cunt down on Brasher's fat dick. My insides were going to burst. So much dick stuffed inside me. I could feel my orgasm growing and growing, my passion swelling until I couldn't think any longer.

All I could do was pant and let these two men fuck me hard.

To use me for their pleasure like the slut I was.

"Take it puta! Take it!" Santillian hissed in my ear as he pulled my hair, sending sharp pain through me and adding fuel to my growing fire. He buried inside me and erupted, painting my bowels with his cum.

I savored the feel of his cock erupting into my bowels. The heat surged to my pussy. It clenched down hard on Brasher's dick as he thrust up into my cunt. The friction rippled to the core of my body. To my waiting orgasm.

"Yes!" I howled as my passion burst and intense pleasure roared through me.

My vision blackened. Stars danced before my eyes. I collapsed on Brasher's muscular chest in a spasm of rapture. Santillian's cock popped out of my ass, his cum leaking out of my well-fucked bowels as the euphoria washed through me.

Brasher kept thrusting his dick up into my cunt, sending wave after wave of rapture through me. I was too weak, too lost to the pleasure, to do anything as Brasher flipped me onto my back. He let out a loud grunt as he pounded away at my pussy.

I spasmed beneath him, his muscular body crushing mine. My nipples throbbed against his strength. I groaned and whimpered. I thrashed beneath him as rapture convulsed through my body. My pussy milked his cock, loving its fat girth spearing over and over into me.

"Whore!" Brasher gasped every time he bottomed out in me, his degrading words fanning the flames of my orgasms to burn hotter. "Whore! Whore! Fucking Whore!"

"I am a whore!" I howled in rapture. "Mark and Mary's whore!"

My pussy kept cumming, squeezing his thick shaft as he pumped it in and out of me. His face contorted in a grimace, his eyes squeezed shut, and then his cum flooded my pussy. He pumped hot jizz into my convulsing depths.

My pussy milked him as he grunted out his pleasure. I whimpered, my orgasm surging so hard through me. It peaked in me as his cum pooled in my cunt. He panted, breathing hard, staring down at me.

I stroked his muscled arm, smiling at him. "That was great, baby."

"Yes, ma'am," he said. Then, with a grunt, he pulled out of me.

As he dressed, I sat up on my elbows, a dull, pleasant ache in my well-fucked pussy. I admired his muscular body as he dressed. Santillian lounged naked on a chair, his eyes closed and his mouth hanging open as he slept. Sleep sounded great, but my stomach rumbled. So I reached for the phone to order some room service for dinner.

There was a knock at the door. "Ma'am, they need you back at city hall."

Dread filled me on the entire drive back to City Hall. It had to be serious to call me back this late in the day. My body still buzzed with my orgasm, but fear quickly tamped it out. Cum leaking out of me, I marched up to my office.

I sat down on my desk, my advisers already waiting, and answered a conference call.

"We've had a hundred and three men walk in complaining of sores and rashes, sore throat, fever, sudden hair loss, and muscle ache," Dr. Simpson explained on the conference call. "Once admitted, we're seeing their conditions rapidly deteriorate into paralysis and blindness before they suffer cardiac arrest and die."

I looked at my advisers: Nate Kirkpatrick, the city's head of HR who'd quickly become my right-hand man; the six male city council members, and Lieutenant-Colonel Maxey, commanding officer of 1st Battalion, 23rd Infantry Regiment. They all looked as horrified, even Colonel Maxey.

My own stomach sank at the news. In a day, a hundred men dead or dying of some disease. A chill spread through me. This was Lilith's plague. But Fiona said it wasn't ready yet. Did she lie, or did Lilith hold back information from the traitorous bitch?

No, that doesn't matter now. I need to deal with this plague. The immediate problem was far more important than whether Fiona lied.

"It's a very unusual disease," Dr. Simpson continued. He was the Chief of Medicine at the University of Washington's Medical Clinic. "So far, only men have fallen ill. Every hour, more and more keep showing up. And not just at my hospital."

"We need to quarantine the city," I commanded, amazed at how firm my voice was—I felt like a mass of jello inside. But I led Seattle. I needed to remain calm and in control. Master and Mistress trusted me with this important task, and there was no way I would fail them.

"It may be too late for that," Dr. Simpson responded. "While the hospitals in Seattle are getting the most admittance, hospitals in the greater Puget Sound region are receiving similar cases."

* * *

Lilith - The Abyss

I watched the chaos of the hospital's ER from the Shadows. It was crammed full of sick men. Their pitiful moans were sweet music. I savored every agonizing moment. The first man died just an hour ago. I watched his final, gasping breath as the doctors struggled to keep him alive.

He wouldn't be the last.

Wormwood burned like wildfire, spreading through the world. The first cases were already overwhelming the hospitals in Seattle and the surrounding communities. Mark would be too distracted as the disease broke out across America, across the earth. In a few days, the chaos would be so great my daughters would have no trouble retaking my demesne.

I floated up, surveying Seattle. It would be mine again.

Chapter Five

Wormwood, as the disease became known, ravaged the world. No one knows the precise number of men who died of the Demon Plague, but estimates are 1.02 billion. One-third of all the men living on the planet succumbed before the disease ran its course five months later.

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

Monday, November 18th, 2013 - Mark Glassner - Tacoma, WA

I was exhausted.

Mary and I spent the day healing those who had fallen to Lilith's plague. Hundreds had already died and thousands were falling sick. The plague burned across the world. It was more virulent than the common cold. Seattle was the worst hit. It seemed like every man in the city had fallen ill, doctors included.

Hospitals had exhausted their resources trying to deal with the sick, reduced to staffs of mostly nurses, and many of those were staying home to care for their own husbands, sons, and fathers. So far none of the Legion, the military sworn to me, had fallen ill, or any of those bound by the Zimmah ritual. But 10,000 soldiers was not enough to maintain order in the U.S., let alone the world.

"Our hot labs have isolated the bacteria," Dr. Franny Albertson explained. She was an Epidemiologist Officer from the CDC, trained to deal with pandemics. "It's a modified version of the Treponema pallidum. Commonly called syphilis."

"It's an STD?" I asked in astonishment.

"Well, not any longer. But it started out that way."

"That explains why we're immune," Mary said.

I stared at her and then nodded my head. "The Bathuwlah ritual. We made ourselves, and those bound to us, immune to STDs with it."

"Lucky us," Mary said. "Good thing Lilith's a sex goddess."

"Anyways, my Lords, someone has engineered this virus to affect only men," Dr. Albertson continued. "We're not sure how. And they've increased its durability, giving it a protein to protect it from UV light, allowing it to be transmitted in the air."

"What can we do to stop it?" Mary asked.

"Syphilis has a history of being resistant to antibacterials," she answered. "The exact protein of its outer shell has never been fully studied, and this strain is even more robust than normal. The best thing to do is isolate the men not already infected. The only good news is we've seen about half of those infected begin to recover."

"What about containment?" I asked.

"We may be beyond containment," the doctor said. "There are cases appearing across the entire world. Seattle is a hub for international traffic, and the dormancy of this bacteria appears to be about three-to-five days before symptoms appear. This has allowed the disease to spread far and wide."

My stomach sank. "What's the military's readiness?"

"It's hitting the general troops hard," General Brooks answered. He commanded the Legion. "The Legion seems unaffected. Healthy units are being quarantined, and we're forming new units out of female soldiers. But women only make up about 15% of the military."

There was a knock on the metal door to the Matmown. Then a junior officer entered. He whispered something to General Brooks. The general's eyes widened, glancing at me. "My Lord, something is happening in Seattle."

* * *

Lilith - Sangi, the Democratic Republic of Congo

I looked proudly at my assembled daughters, most newly matured, as they stood in the muddy square of the rude village. It grated that I was forced to retreat to such a... distasteful place. Well, that was about to change.

Alitha, Mazikeen, Tzavau, Manticore, Edimmu, Nirah, Zu, Aesma, and a dozen more different breeds stared worshipfully at me. A thousand monsters out of the darkest nightmares of mankind. The humans still remembered my children in distorted legends and tales. The fear they caused etched into the very soul of mankind. My children were so feared, so powerful, the Creator had drowned the world and started anew.

But not this time—He promised on the slopes of Mount Ararat to never destroy the world by deluge again.

And He keeps His promises.

"Open the portals!" I commanded. Lana, Chantelle, and Thamina leaped to obey, carving holes in the air to the Shadows.

It was time to retake my city. From Seattle I would breed an even larger army and sweep this world clean of all the vile men. I would fix the Creator's mistake in ever bringing the brutish pigs into being. I would usher the world into a utopia.

I would recreate Eden in my image.

* * *

Jessica St. Pierre - City Hall, Seattle, WA

I was exhausted.

I didn't think I'd slept since the outbreak started other than a few minutes dozing at my desk. The situation was horrible. The hospitals were crammed with sick and dying men with only a few overworked nurses and doctors, those still coming to work, to tend to them. It seemed most of the male doctors and nurses were infected before proper quarantine procedures could be established, creating more patients for the beleaguered female nurses and doctors.

Lilith's dream realized: a world without men.

I stared down at the report in front of me. It was an order to start burning the dead. There wasn't time to bury them, and they were piling up in the makeshift morgues. The battalion of soldiers Master gave me was stretched thin. They were the only men in the city immune to the disease. They had to be everywhere, trying to help out. I only had a section, half of a platoon, guarding me at City Hall. It was all that could be spared.

I nodded my head and started. I had fallen asleep for a microsecond. I was so tired. I rubbed my eyes, struggling to think. What was I doing? I looked down at the order spread out on my desk before me. For a moment, bewilderment filled me as I struggled to read the bleary text.

"Right," I muttered.

I scrawled my signature neatly at the bottom of the order to start burning the dead. I set that aside and moved on to the next piece of paper. A casualty list. It was heartbreaking. Most who died were young boys and elderly men.

I sighed and read the next report on proposed food distribution sites. Every store in the city was shut down, and no one wanted to be out in public. But people needed to eat, so the military was bringing in rations. Places needed to be chosen for the distribution spots. I blinked, the page growing blurry as I struggled to focus.

Fireworks exploded outside. I jumped, blinking gritty eyes.

"What the fuck?" I frowned, standing up. Why would anyone be setting off fireworks at a time like this?

I walked to the window, glancing down at James Street, and saw three soldiers firing their weapons down the boulevard. My exhausted mind struggled to think. Why would they do that?

A black rock slammed into one of the soldiers, caving in his chest. Adrenaline spiked through me, a cold chill that banished exhaustion. Alertness crashed into my mind. Up the street, a brown-skinned, hairless woman ripped up another chunk of asphalt and hurled it at the soldiers. No, not a woman. One of Lilith's monsters

I shivered, pressing my face against the window.

More monstrous women rushed the soldiers, using the asphalt missiles as a distraction. They were all varied: a gray-skinned woman with white hair, a gaunt woman with shriveled sacks for breasts, and a green-scaled woman loping on all fours. The remaining soldiers kept firing. Their bullets ripped into the green-scaled woman. She collapsed in a bloody heap, smoke rising from her wounds. The gray-skinned monster stopped and thrust her hands forward. A great wind swept down the street, buffeting the soldiers and knocking them to the ground. The skeletal woman reached one of the prone soldiers, her fingers sharp as claws. She drove them through his body armor into his chest and then plucked out his heart.

"Oh, God," I groaned, my stomach twisting.

I couldn't hear what the last soldier shouted as he struggled to aim his weapon. He fired a grenade from a launcher slung on the bottom of his rifle. The skeletal woman vanished in a fiery burst. The window shattered before me as a boom rocked the building. I threw up my arms as a few shards of glass cut my forearm.

The door to my office burst open. I staggered about in fear. Privates Brasher and Santillian rushed at me. "We have to go, ma'am," Brasher shouted. His radio squawked noisily. "Those damned monsters are popping up all over the city!"

Santillian grabbed my shoulder and pushed me forward while Brasher led the way to the elevator. Another boom rocked the building, then a loud, repeating roar—some sort of heavy weapon firing—chattered through the night. The elevator ride seemed to take an eternity to go down the two floors to the lobby. I trembled in fear; my heart seemed to beat a million times a second. I was afraid it would explode.

The doors opened in the lobby. Outside, a Stryker waited. The repeated roaring noise came from the machine gun mounted on a turret atop the armored vehicle, firing down Fourth Avenue. No one manned the turret, which was controlled remotely from inside. Two more soldiers huddled on the side of the vehicle, firing their weapons in the same direction.

The air rippled behind one of the kneeling soldiers like a mirage dancing on hot pavement. A woman stepped out of the distortion. She was pale, her hair glowing with white light. She pointed her finger at the back of the soldier and a bright, red beam struck him. He pitched forward, a smoking hole burning through his body armor.

"¡Madre de Dios!" Santillian cursed as Brasher and he opened fire on the woman.

The front doors shattered into tiny beads of broken glass. The woman turned and pointed her finger at us as a bullet struck her in the chest. Her red beam went wide, slicing through the front of the city hall, leaving behind a smoking line of destruction.

"Go! Get in the Stryker!" Brasher roared and raced for the front door.

A bullish, winged woman dropped on the Stryker from the sky, the vehicle rocking on its four axles, shocks groaning in protest. How could something so heavy fly? She grabbed the turret and ripped the machine gun off, hurling it down the street. Then she grabbed at the hatch on top and pried up the metal. Brasher fired his weapon at the winged monster. She didn't even flinch as his shots stung her body, leaving small, bloody holes.

The remaining soldier outside the Stryker ran for City Hall as a horde of monstrous women poured down the street, no longer kept at bay by the turreted machine gun. He didn't get far before a leonine woman spat a quill at him; he convulsed and fell upon the steps of city hall.

"Run, chica!" Santillian yelled. He knelt down behind a pillar and tossed a grenade out the door. "We'll try and hold them off."

The grenade detonated, killing several monsters. But more rushed up the stairs. I turned and fled deeper into the building. I vaguely remembered a fire escape that led out onto Cherry Street. Behind me, Brasher and Santillian's gunfire faltered and went silent. I raced down hallways, fear spurring me to run faster than I thought possible.

I spotted the fire escape. Safety lay ahead.

I sprinted down the hall and crashed through the red door, ignoring the alarm I set off. Cherry Street looked like a warzone. Three cars burned, set ablaze during the firefight, and cratered holes littered the street. The soldiers guarding this block lay torn apart. There were no monsters. They all seemed to be around the corner. So I turned and ran down Cherry Street away from the carnage.

I would escape!

A red-winged woman with a hawkish nose dropped before me. I tried to stop, but my momentum carried me into the monster. Her talon-like hands gripped my arm painfully. She eyed me up and down, her head moving with jerky, stilted motions like a bird.

"Well, well. Mother will be pleased to see you, Jessica."

The bird-monster dragged me back into city hall. More monsters roamed the hallways, breaking down office doors and dragging out the few women trying to keep the government running. As we walked past, the monsters growled, snarled, or leered at me. I shivered in fear, clutching my choker. What would happen to me?