The Devil's Pact Pt. 42

She kept cumming, overwhelmed by my Lust. Her pleasure had her hissing in insensibility. Her mind drowned in the rapture I gave her. I treasured it. My touch so overwhelmed, so consumed. Her pussy spasmed harder and harder about my dick, sucking at it, wanting my cum billowing into her depths.

I drank in her passion. I devoured her lust. It felt as delightful to me as her cunt spasming upon my cock. It brought me closer and closer to spilling into her. I pumped faster, my tits bouncing before me. I touched her supple back.

Juices gushed from her pussy.

"Yes, yes!" she hissed. "I'm your whore, Mother!"

"You are!" I groaned. "My wonderful, delightful daughter-whore!"

I increased the Lust flowing into her. She screamed, her back twisting around, bending almost in half. I grabbed her small breast, pinching her dark nipple between my finger. She quivered and contorted, her pussy sucking at my dick.

I kept pounding her snatch. She never stopped cumming, one climax spilling into the next. My orgasm built quickly. I didn't fight it. Haja would be here soon. I shuddered, burying into my daughter's pussy.

And came.

I flooded her cunt with my black seed. It pumped out of me, filling her to the hilt. She hissed so loudly, her hardest orgasm yet contorting her body. Her nipple pulled out of my fingers as she collapsed on the table, sweat glistening on her body.

"Yes," I moaned as the rapture billowed through me. I savored my own pleasure as I drank in hers. Such a delicious meal. "Enjoy your reward. You did such amazing work. You made me so happy."

I ripped my girl-dick out of her. I shuddered at the sight of my inky cum leaking out of her pink depths. I sucked in a deep breath as she slipped off my desk, kneeling before me. She gazed up at me, her snake-slitted eyes glassy with her pleasure.

"Thank you, thank you!" she hissed. "I love you, Mother!"

She bent over. Her long tongue licked at my feet. I savored the wet, wonderful sensation.

"I love you, too, daughter," I lied. My daughters were merely tools to increase my power, and no matter how useful you found your tools, you didn't love them. "You are dismissed, Abby."

My daughter stood on shaky legs, bowed, and stumbled out of the room past Lana. I hadn't noticed my priestess return. Her eyes glanced down to my still-hard cock drenched in Abby's juices. Lust shone in my priestess's in those blue depths.

"Haja is on her way, my Goddess," Lana said. Her eyes flickered to the dagger sitting on my desk. Something other than lust flicked across her face. She swallowed. "What is that?"

I picked up the dagger, staring at the deformed blade. "Mark Glassner's death."

I nicked my finger with the blade. A single, dark bead of blood welled from the cut and landed upon the black metal. For a moment, the dagger burned scarlet, drinking in my blood, and binding itself to my life. I could feel the cursed thing like an ugly, throbbing wound upon my forehead, burning like a brand.

"A single cut from this blade will kill any man or woman in minutes," I explained. "Nothing can heal this weapon's wounds once it has been bound to a person."

"Nothing?" Lana asked. "Not even the Tsariy ritual?"

"Not even that," I answered. Then I hesitated. "Well, no, my life is bound into the blade, and only my life's blood could heal the wounded."

"I see," Lana replied carefully. "Isn't that taking a risk? Shouldn't I be bound to it? Or one of your other daughters?"

I smiled at her. "No, it's more satisfying this way."

I stared at the blade. In November, Mark would stand before me on the anniversary of our agreement. I would get to watch him die, writhing in pain, helpless like the worm he was. It would be so satisfying knowing that I was his only salvation, that if he wasn't howling in agony, all he had to do to survive would be to kill me.

But he'd fail. He'd die, and everyone bound to him would perish with him.

Then the world would be mine. I would cleanse it of every single, last man--purged as clean of the vermin as my city of Seattle was.

A knock rattled my door.

"You may enter my presence," I said, turning.

Haja entered a moment later, thin and pale, as if she had no color. Except her eyes. They were an ever-shifting rainbow. She was an Aja, capable of manipulating light. She could bend it about her and hide in the distortion, or she could focus the light to a bright beam that would slice through almost anything. Chantelle called her power a laser--one of the many filthy things invented by men in this time.

I carefully wrapped the dagger in the cloth and handed it to Haja. "Take this to Ziki," I commanded. "Do not cut yourself with the blade."

"Yes, Mother," Haja answered, her voice little more than a whisper.

"And do not be seen! I will be most displeased."

"I won't, Mother." She trembled in fear before me.

"Good, go," I smiled, savoring her terrified awe of me. All should quiver before a goddess.

As Aja left my office, I spotted young Crystal waiting outside. The next group of women I needed to impregnate must be ready. Every woman in Seattle had to submit to my affections and bear me a daughter. When November came, and Mark Glassner lay dead at my feet, my army of monstrous daughters would be as numerous as the stars in the sky.

They would swarm across the world.

Chapter Four

On November 17th, 2014, the world belonged to the Tyrants. Almost every country had capitulated to their rule, and the majority of humankind was enthralled by their words. On November 18th, Darkness and Fire fell across the Earth.

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

Monday, November 17th, 2014 - Mary Glassner - The Mansion

"Master, I've finished negotiating the details for tomorrow's meeting," Jessica reported.

Chase burped as I patted her back. I had just finished nursing my six-month-old daughter. She was growing so fast, looking around the table and babbling in baby talk. She was just so cute; I couldn't resist giving her forehead a kiss.

We sat at the dining room table, finishing a delicious dinner the maids had prepared. All the sluts were here for tomorrow's meeting with Lilith. Alison and Desiree had returned from Japan, where they had just finished hunting down a Warlock who could kill people by writing their names down in a notebook. Lillian had spent the last week at meetings at the United Nations, making sure the delegates and the NGOs understood the Theocracy's position on the various issues.

It was almost time to dissolve the organization and replace it with our own world government.

"And what are these demands?" Mark asked Jessica.

"We'll meet at the same spot as last year," Jessica answered. "Although, it will be at noon. Lilith will be accompanied by Chantelle and Lana, and you may bring two others. Obviously Mistress is one, and I think I should be the second. I've spent the last month negotiating with Chantelle; I've come to know how she thinks."

Mark glanced at me, arching an eyebrow.

I think that will work, I sent to my husband through our telepathic bond. Our souls were united in so many different ways.

"Okay, the three of us," Mark nodded. "No guards?"

"We leave all guards and soldiers three hundred yards back," Jessica replied. "It will be the three of us meeting Lilith and her two priestesses in the middle. If her daughters try something, you'll have time to summon Chasity and the other ghosts to defend yourself and Mistress."

"Good work," I told Jessica, reaching out and stroking her caramel hand, holding Chase in the other.

She flushed, "Thank you, Mistress."

I gave her one last squeeze. Then I handed Chase to a maid and turned back to my dinner. "I hope this meeting doesn't take too long. Missy wants to have her dress fitting tomorrow afternoon."

"It seems like I just went to one of your sisters' weddings," Mark sighed.

"Shannon got married in August, Mark," I said, rolling my eyes. "That was almost three months ago."

"Really?" he said, blinking in surprise. "Where did the time go?"

"The Middle East," I said, suppressing a shudder. That had been a frustrating few months putting most of the Muslim world under our power.

"Right," he grimaced. "When are Missy and Damien getting married?"

"December 7th," I replied. "Don't ask why. I think she chose it at random."

"Speaking of weddings, Master," Violet said suddenly. "I'm going to pop the question to Cindy." She glanced at Mark. "That's okay, right, Master?"

"Of course," Mark smiled. "So long as we get to bless you at the altar."

"We wouldn't have it any other way, Master," Violet giggled.

I glanced at April. She was happily chatting with Korina. It seemed our nerdy slut had finally gotten over her schoolgirl crush on Violet. I bet Hayfa had something to do with that. The two seemed close these days. April always seemed to find some excuse to visit Willow's clinic and see the nurse at work.

The maids brought in dessert. Mark just nudged it with his fork, his face taut, his eyes distant. He was tense, nervous. The meeting tomorrow could go disastrously wrong. My own stomach roiled, his worry infecting me. Lilith was mercurial and unpredictable. And she's spent the last year breeding her children. Our spies in the city reported that all women in Seattle were required to submit to her affections. Every day, dozens were brought to her, often by force, and impregnated by the demoness.

To contain the threat, we had the Legion, the army who swore to my husband, ringing the city. Mark's monk powers gave them the ability to fight demonic creatures better than regular soldiers. The ranks of the Legion had swollen over the last year with women who'd lost husbands, sons, fathers, and brothers to the Wormwood Plague.

They itched to get revenge on Lilith. If she betrayed us, we'd level Seattle. So it would be stupid of her to try anything tomorrow.

I pushed back from the table and walked around to Mark, my hands kneading his shoulders as I bent down to whisper, "Come to bed. Let me soothe your nerves."

"Sure," Mark answered. He stood up, his eyes peering down my low-cut, green dress. That brought a smile to my lips. I puffed out my chest, feeling sexy.

I hooked my arm around his. "Goodnight, my sluts," I said to them. "I want all of you well-rested and ready for the backup plan." Just in case things went wrong, I wanted to be ready to trap Lucifer.

"Good night, Mistress," Xiu smiled. "We'll be ready. Right, sluts?"

Everyone nodded or voiced their agreement, and then Mark ushered me out of the dining room. We walked through the richly appointed halls of our mansion, past some of my favorite paintings: Girls at the Piano, Two Sisters on the Terrace, and Abduction of Europa. I wished I had half the talent of Pierre August Renoir. Mark loved my paintings. He always told me my art was the best. He even hung a few in his office; his favorite was my painting of Mount Rainier.

My husband, sadly, had no real taste in art. I only had passable talent, but it always was nice to hear him praise my works, even if they were terrible.

Inside our bedroom, I unbuttoned my husband's shirt, taking time to work each one with care, exposing his brawny chest. He looked so hunky with his shirt hanging open. I fingered the lines of his hard muscles before trailing down to his pants. I loved his muscles; they were so yummy. My pussy was growing damp as I stroked them.

But I needed something to satiate that horny pussy.

I undid his belt and pulled off his pants and boxers, freeing his semi-hard cock rising from the tangle of dark-brown pubic hair. I stared at it, licking my lips. I wanted to suck it. But I also wanted to help my husband relax.

"Lie down on your stomach," I ordered my husband.

"Yes, hun," he said. Sometimes he liked it when I told him what to do, just being passive. Other times, he seized me like a man and took me hard.

I liked that a lot. But variety was nice.

I unzipped my dress and let it fall to the floor as he moved to the bed. I wore nothing underneath, my plump breasts swaying, my legs long and lithe. My husband's eyes drank in my nudity with hungry eyes.

Nothing made a woman feel sexier than a man's lusty gaze.

Mark stretched out on his back as I fetched the massage oil. The maids always kept it stocked in my nightstand drawer. I paused to admire his rump. He had buns of steel. I giggled, remembering those exercise commercials when I was a little girl.

I gave his hard butt a smack.

He groaned.

I straddled his ass, rubbing my waxed-bare pussy into his flesh. I shifted, savoring the sensation, my clit throbbing against it. Then I dumped the oil on his back. He flinched at the cold contact and then let out a groan. I drizzled more of the cinnamon-flavored liquid across his back, breathing in the scent.

Bottle capped, I went to work. I spread it across his flesh, rubbing it into his muscles. He shifted beneath me as I worked up to his shoulders. I started at his neck, kneading both my thumbs into his flesh.

"You're so tense," I said, working at a knot in his neck. "It's going to be fine tomorrow."

"Will it?"

"Probably," I admitted, that sinking pit returning in my stomach as I massaged lower.

He sighed, the tension melting out of him. I could feel the strain in my muscles relax, the ropy sinews not as tight. I enjoyed this moment. There was something so special about massaging your lover, giving him relief. It grew that warmth of satisfaction in my belly, that joy beating in my heart.

I eased his burdens just a smidge.

As I worked my hands lower, I leaned over and kissed his back. I savored the spicy oil on my lips as I stroked his lower back. I smooched down his spine, my pussy sliding off his ass as I worked on his tailbone.

Then my hands found his firm butt. He had such a fine ass, perfectly sculpted. My fingers dug into his glutes. He groaned, hugging his pillows, his head on his side, eyes closed. A smile grew on his lips as I relaxed the tension out of his hard muscles.

Unable to resist, I leaned down and gave his butt-cheek a nip with my teeth. He groaned, and I kissed the fading impression of my teeth.

"Mare," he sighed. "You naughty filly."

"Always," I giggled and gave him one last smooch on the ass.

His butt done, I turned myself around and started on his powerful thighs. Pleasure tingled through me as I worked his legs, rubbing my pussy on his ass, now slicked by the massage oil. My clit tingled as my labia drank in the sensation.

Mark sighed as I worked his calves. I had to lean over to reach, grinding my clit even harder into his muscles. I squirmed from side to side as I massaged his legs, working the last kinks out of them. I shivered, my pussy dripping with excitement.

"Time to turn over," I announced.

"Thanks, Mare," he whispered. "That felt amazing."

"Wait until I do your other side," I giggled.

"Do you really think everything's going to go smoothly tomorrow?" he asked, shifting beneath me.

"I hope it will," I answered, slipping off and kneeling beside him. "Lilith has to know we could wipe her city off the map if it came down to it. I think she's too cowardly to try to attack us herself. She likes to use her daughters and keep herself at arm's length."

"She has daughters who can turn invisible. They bend light around them or they blend into their surroundings." He paused, face a mask of stone. "This could be a trap."

"You can summon your armor at a moment's notice," I pointed out. "Our soldiers won't be far away, and the ghosts can cover ground rapidly if they choose to. She'd be stupid to try to do anything. Now turn over; I want to relax, not nibble at our worry until we're both ragged bones."

Mark's face relaxed. Then he rolled over onto his back, his cock at full mast. A wave of heat washed through me. I straddled his waist and settled my pussy against his dick. I groaned, rubbing his cock into the wet groove of my pussy. I shifted my weight, enjoying the feel of his dick sliding through my labia and nudging my clit as I poured more massage oil on his chest.

I leaned over, working on his pecs. My breasts swayed before me as his dick twitched against my pussy. That felt nice. I grinned at him, working my fingers into the powerful muscles of his chest, enjoying his sculpted physique.

He had the body of a god. And he was all mine.

Mostly. But I didn't mind sharing his body since I had his heart.

"You are so beautiful," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. He squeezed my breast. I shuddered as a bead of milk leaked out of my nipple. He scooped it up on his finger and brought it to his mouth, sucking it clean.

"You're not so bad-looking yourself," I smiled back as he savored my breast milk.

His dick twitched harder beneath my pussy as he worked towards his stomach. "I think there's another part of my body that needs to be massaged more than my stomach."

"Oh?" I asked, feigning innocence as I slid my pussy against his shaft. "What part?"

Mark grinned at me, that boyish look that always made my heart speed up. Blood rushed through my veins, my pussy aching more. "I think my cock needs a deep tissue massage."

"An intimate, deep tissue massage?"

"As deep as possible, Mare."

I slid his shaft until I felt the head of his cock nudging at my pussy's entrance. "I think I can help you out with that, hun."

He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut, as I slowly slid my pussy down the length of his cock. It felt so wonderful as his dick rubbed against my sheath, filling me up as I took him all the way to the root. I squirmed on him, grinding my clit, savoring his girth in me.

I rose, squeezing his cock with my pussy, and then relaxed it, massaging him with my inner depths. I didn't move my hips; I just massaged his cock with my cunt's muscles. He twitched and groaned inside me as I clenched over and over on his dick, loving the way his face twisted with pleasure.

"Christ, that's driving me crazy!" he groaned.

"Good," I purred. "You wanted a deep tissue massage." I clamped my snatch down on his dick hard, squirming my hips to stir him around my dick while rubbing my clit into his pubic bone. "And you'll not find deeper than my pussy."

"Naughty filly!" he groaned, his hands finding my breasts.

I shuddered as he rolled my right nipple between his thumb and pointed finger. The tingling pleasure racing for my nub made it harder to resist pumping my hips up and down, to ride his dick. I fought it, groaning through my clenched teeth.

Then he attacked my left nipple, too. He rolled and twisted and pinched them both. My head leaned back, my hair sweeping about my shoulders. I groaned, squeezing and relaxing my snatch on his dick. A bonfire blazed inside me. It grew harder and harder to stay still on his dick. The fire demanded to be put out. A frustrated agony burned through my body.

Mark tugged on my nipples. My milk flowed. "You horny stallion!"

He grinned at me, rolling my nipples harder between his wet fingers. The tingles zapped down to my pussy. I clenched down hard on his dick, my hips twitching more. Sparks flew from my clit rubbing through his pubic hair.

I had to move. I had to enjoy my man.

"Fuck!" I gasped as my hips rose on his dick.

"Mare," he groaned as I slammed down on him, his fingers releasing my nipples.

My passion burned inside of me. I rode his dick as fast as I could. My plump breasts bounced and jiggled as I plunged up and down his cock. I needed to cum. I needed to soothe the fire burning inside me.

My snatch gripped him as I rose, making him groan, his chest muscles flexing beneath the rapture of my cunt's embrace. Then I slammed down on him hard, driving my clit into his pubic bone. His hands seized my hips, lifting me up, as aching to spill his seed in me as I was to feel that moment.