Incest/Taboo The Devil's Pact

The Tyrants' control built slowly. Bit by bit, men and women fell under their power. They were a cancer in the heart of the world. But hope still burned that their evil could be cured. On June 10th, 2013, Sister Louise Afra prepared to cleanse the world of the Tyrants' taint.

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

Monday, June 10th, 2013 -- Sister Louise Afra -- South Hill, WA

There was a soft knock at the door, bursting the bubble of my dream. "Good morning, Louise," Madeleine greeted, her voice muffled through the door. "Breakfast is ready."

"Okay," I groggily said and rolled out of bed, stretching my limbs.

I had been dreaming about being Susanne's slave again. It was a common dream. It played out in minute variants: sometimes I would be forced to be her slave, others I would crawl on my knees and beg to be hers. A few times, Susanne would be my slave, crawling before me.

Regret stabbed through me. What would my life have been like if I had not been dominated by Susanne? Would I have married Ryan? Would I have had children and watched them proudly grow up? A Warlock steals more than your life when you're dominated, he steals your dreams. Mark had already done irreparable damage to the lives of those he encountered. I needed to stop him before he destroyed more.

That was my job as a nun of the Order of Mary Magdalene.

My body was sore from spending most of yesterday in a car watching the Fitzsimmons house. I was gathering intelligence, as the military would say. I had only left the care for the twenty minutes it took to put Alison and Desiree under the Prayer of Zanah, turning the women into my weapons to use against Mark. Then it was back to my car to watch.

And wait.

Near 8 PM, Mark returned with a car full of naked women. There were five of them, all clearly Thralls of Mark. It was a setback. The best way to deal with a Warlock, particularly a male Warlock, was to seduce him, or let him think he was seducing you. But I had found it was more satisfying to turn a Warlock's Thralls against him. The prick deserved a little comeuppance. But five more Thralls would make that vastly harder. I would need to get the odds back in my favor before I could make my move.

And if Mark kept adding to his harem, this could drag on for a while.

Maybe I should go the easy route and let Mark seduce me. It wouldn't be hard. Although I was fifty-one, I appeared as an attractive eighteen year old. I had the perky tits and tight ass of a teenager, one of the Gifts the Creator had granted me to fight Evil. I could let Mark seduce me, but that was too good for him. He deserved to be humiliated, to know fear. To know that when he came in my pussy that would be the end of all his fun! I had dealt with far worse Warlocks in the last thirty-years.

Mark would not stand a chance.

Lord, I prayed silently, grant me the strength to save these women, grant me the courage to face this challenge, and grant me the guidance to see it quickly ended. In the name of the Father, the Son, and Holy Spirit, Amen!

I felt better after praying and dressed.

After breakfast, I would sit here in Madeleine's house and watch the Warlock. I would wait for my opening. Last night, thanks to God's Providence, Madeleine had offered me a place to stay. I was parked on the street in front of her house when she walked up to the car with two cups of tea and asked if I needed to talk. Sensing God's Providence, I said the first story that popped into my head.

"I think my husband's shacked up with Desiree," I had told her last night. "I want proof. I flew all the way out from Chicago to find it."

Madeleine had a good heart and offered to let me to stay in her guest bedroom.

"There's a good view of that hussy's house from my breakfast nook," Madeleine had told me in a sexy, southern twang. "Doesn't that sound better than sittin' in your car, sugar?"

I left the guest bedroom after dressing in a white skirt and red blouse, and headed for the kitchen. Madeleine was pouring a thermos of coffee. I paused to admire her fine rump beneath her business skirt. She was a fit looking, thirty-something, recently divorced and ready for love. She had made a simple breakfast for me--yogurt sprinkled with granola--and left it sitting next to a fresh pot of coffee.

"Sorry I couldn't rustle you up a proper breakfast, but I got to skedaddle to work," she apologized, her southern twang melting my cunt.

"That's all right," I smiled, giving her a friendly hug. "And thanks again for letting me stay."

"No problem, sugar. You can stay as long as you need to. My husband was a no-good horndog, too. That's why I kicked his ass to the curb."

She gave me a comforting hug and kissed my forehead--I wished she kissed my lips instead--and headed out the door. She was off to her office job in a respectable looking skirt and blouse. I sighed in regret, watching that fine ass sway out of the kitchen. It was a shame she was straight. I gave her some subtle signs last night, but she didn't bite or even realize that I was flirting with her.

I missed staying with Sarai--the sexy flight attendant I had spent a passionate two days with--already, but I would persevere.

I looked out the window in time to see the Warlock, Mark jog by, naked save for a pair of running shoes. I winced. He was a slightly overweight man, his fat jiggling as he ran. He must have wished for some powerful mind control to be so confident in jogging naked. I angrily stabbed at my yogurt with a spoon.

You won't be so confident for long, prick!

Mark Glassner

I was exhausted by riding high from the exertion when I returned from my jog and my romp with Anastasia, a delightful woman I met jogging. She lived across the street from the house I took from Brandon Fitzsimmons. Her pussy had felt wonderful on my cock.

When I awoke this morning, I decided I needed to get in better shape for Mary. She was such a beautiful creature. She deserved a man that at least tried to not be an overweight slob. After yesterday's naked walk through the hotel and drive back to South Hill, I discovered I liked the freedom of going nude.

So I set off jogging, my dick flapping in the wind.

It was an interesting experience. I was stopped three times by Puyallup Police officers and once by a Pierce County Sheriff deputy. I had thought long and hard how I wanted to handle the police, so I was ready. I gave each cop two simple orders: "I am Mark Glassner and whatever I am doing is perfectly legal. Anyone who approaches you and says 'I serve Mark Glassner' or 'I am Mary Sullivan,' do what they say without question." Each cop would then apologize for bothering me, walk back to their cars, and drive off.

I loved my powers. I could do anything.

On my jog, passing cars honked at me and insults were hurled as they sped by. I didn't mind. They were lesser men and women, mere ants cursing their betters. Other joggers would cross the street or bolt the other way while pulling out cell phones to call 911 on me. I did catch up to one pretty woman in her late twenties, with a round ass covered in tight, black leggings and a pink, Lycra tank top that fit her like a second skin.

Anastasia.

I invited her to join the Naked Jogging Club. She was more than happy to be the first recruit. Needless to say, jogging was a lot easier when I had a woman's beautiful, naked ass jiggling and bouncing in front of me. When we reached her house, I fucked Anastasia in the kitchen while her husband showered upstairs.

What a delightful thrill that had been.

When I walked into my house, Desiree was leading the sluts and Mary in some type of aerobics in the living room. I admired their naked bodies, covered in a sheen of sweat, jiggling and wiggling.

"What's going on?" I asked.

Mary flashed me a smile, her auburn hair matted to her sweaty forehead. "I wanted to make sure our sluts keep their bodies nice and tight."

"It's working," I grinned, my cock hardening. "I think I know another way you can burn those calories."

An orgy quickly devolved. By the end, everyone was covered in fluids and sweat. I lay in the middle of the feminine flesh, Mary cuddled against me. I did love my growing harem of sluts. They spiced up the sex.

"I think we need showers," Mary declared, cum and pussy juices smeared across her breasts and face.

"Uh-huh," I panted, helping her up.

Mary and I went first, as befitted our station. The shower in the mater bath hissed to life, hot steam billowing out. We slipped in and Mary grabbed the soap, her hands sliding up and down my back.

"You going to see that friend today?" I asked. "The real estate broker."

"Yeah, Alice," Mary answered.

"Alice, huh, is she cute?"

"Yes," Mary answered playfully. "And happily married, so stay away." Mary emphasized her point by poking me in the back.

"Sure, Mare," I told her. "There are plenty of women in the world for me to fuck."

"Good," Mary said. "Anyways, I had an idea were we could build our mansion at."

"Oh yeah, where at?" I asked.

"Behind this house is a large field that they started to build a housing development in. We can buy up the lot, this entire block, and maybe the next housing development over, and bulldoze them all done. Then we'd have a wonderful estate with a a gorgeous view of Mount Rainier and the Puyallup Valley."

"Okay," I said with a nod. Mary was an artist and had far more appreciation for atheistic then I did. "I trust your judgment, Mare." She beamed at me, turning around so I could wash her back.

"So, are you really going to rob a bank?" Mary asked as I scrubbed her back with a loofah.

"Yeah," I said. "I've always kinda wanted to. I think I'll take Violet along with me."

Mary turned around so I could wash her front. "Oh, you want to get more of her tight cunt," she said with wry smile.

Violet was tight.

"Yeah," I grinned. "But I caught on the news before I went out jogging. She's been reported missing by her mother. Since she's a nineteen-year-old White woman, the media's having a field day. I'll call her mom and the Seattle Police to straighten it out, but it could be a problem if a local cop saw her before it's all fixed."

Mary nodded. "Well, you are the only one of us that could talk your way out of any problems."

"You could've had the same power," I pointed out. I looked at her heart-shaped, freckled face and asked, "Why didn't you? I meant to ask that night, but then the Devil gave me that gem and..."

Mary was silent for a moment, then finally answered, "I didn't want the responsibility of that much power." She swallowed. "You can do a lot of harm, Mark. Hell, you have done a lot of harm, and some of that was at my request." There was a pregnant pause. "I mean, don't you ever feel slightly guilty for what we do to the sluts?"

"No," I said without hesitation. "When I got these powers, I told myself I was above such petty concerns. I only felt guilt for what I did to you." I said. "Shit, I still feel guilty."

Mary rubbed my arm. "I forgave you," she said, and leaned in to kiss me. It made me feel a little better. "But how do you stop feeling guilt?"

"You just need to tell yourself your better than all the rest of them," I told her. "We are better than other people, than the sluts. We're special, and they're not."

"That's it?"

"Yeah," I answered. She sighed, and hugged me tightly. Her body shook, and I realized she was crying.

I froze.

I didn't know what to do, what to say. I didn't have a lot of experience comforting crying women. I just squeezed her back, stroking her wet hair. "I...uh. We can..." I cleared my throat, "We can let the sluts go. Just say the word, Mare. We don't need them. I don't need them. We just need each other."

"I...I can't," Mary sobbed. "There's this voice whispering to me, telling me it's wrong. But my body, my pussy, is telling me it's so very right."

"So, which voice do you want to listen too?"

She sobbed, "My pussy." Mary relaxed in my arms, tension fleeing her body. "Make love to me, Mark. Make me forget."

Her lips were passion on mine, her tongue writhing in my mouth. Her wet body pressed against me, soft and firm. My cock hardened between us and my hands roamed her sleek body. I found her plump ass, kneading a cheek with one hand, while my other hand groped a firm breast and hard nipple.

"That's it," she panted, her hips writhing.

Mary's groin rubbed against me, seeking for my aching dick. Her soft hands ran down my back, across my side and found my hard cock and guided it to her wet vulva. We moaned together as my cock slid inside her, agonizingly slow. Our nerves were on fire with passion for each other, and our hips found a slow, steady rhythm.

"My stallion," Mary moaned. "My handsome stallion. Fuck me harder! I need it!"

I gripped her hips, thrusting hard. Mary groaned and clawed my back. "My sweet filly!" I panted. "You're all I need."

"Give me your cum!" she ordered wantonly. "Oh, I need it! Warm and sticky! My pussy needs it!"

"Here it comes, Mare!" I gasped.

My balls tightened. My cock throbbed. I groaned, slamming into the depths of her hot cunt. My cock throbbed and I shuddered as I unloaded into my love. One, two, three powerful jets of cum pulsed into her pussy.

"Mary," I grunted, pleasure surging through me.

Mary gasped, her body writhing against mine. She hugged me tight, rubbing her naked breasts to my chest as her cunt convulsed about my cock, squeezing it with a velvety warmth. Her beautiful face twisted as her passion overtook her.

"My stallion," she moaned.

Mary clung to me in the shower, her face pressed against my chest, my cock growing soft inside her pussy. We didn't say a word, we just enjoyed the warm water spraying over us and the comfort of each other. I held my love, and savored her arms holding me. This was all I really needed. The sluts, the women I made fuck me, they were just fun, just pleasant diversions. This is what was real, what mattered.

Somehow, Mary had become my whole world in just a short time.

I would have gladly stayed like this forever, but the hot water heater had other ideas.

Mary seemed in a better mood when we slipped out of the cold shower. She grabbed a towel and playfully dried me off. She then insisted on shaving me and only managed to nick me three times. She giggled each time, tearing a piece of toilet and sticking them to the cuts. From guest bathroom we could here a lot of shrieks and giggles as the sluts were forced to take cold showers.

"The mansion is definitely going to need some heavy duty water heaters," I told Mare as we checked in on the sluts. "Like a hotel."

Mary nodded, watching Korina shivering in the shower as she quickly washed her body.

After we dressed and gathered our things, Mary and I faced our collected sluts in the living room to give them their instructions for the day. Violet pressed against my side, a sweet smile on her innocent face, and dressed in the pink dress she wore yesterday.

"Desiree," Mary commanded. "Let Xiu, Fiona, and Korina borrow some of your old clothes, and then take them shopping. Use Brandon's credit card."

"Yes, mi Reina," Desiree purred. "I know just the clothing to get them."

"So you're in charge of cleaning the house," I told Alison.

"Yes, Master," she pouted, glancing enviously at Desiree.

"I know you want to get out of the house, but it needs to be clean," I told her. "I'll spend some time with you this evening."

Alison grinned. "Thank you, Master!"

A few minutes later, the three naked sluts trooped down, dressed in Desiree's ill-fitting clothes. They hung like a tent on petite Xiu. Desiree traipsed down in a slutty, black dress that revealed most of her cleavage, and a short skirt that flirted with revealing her ass.

"I think we're ready," I said.

"Be careful," Mary ordered, kissing me. "Do you have your crystal?"

I stuck my hand into my pocket, touching the crystal the Devil had given me. His words echoed in my ears: If you are ever in trouble, hold this crystal and say, "Lilith, appear before me." I could see some worry in my fiancee's eyes. Something was coming, but we had no idea what.

"Yeah, it's right here," I said, pulling it out of my jean pocket for a moment, and showing it to her. She relaxed. "I love you, Mare."

"Love you, too, hun."

Sister Louise Afra

I was on my third cup of coffee as I watched the Fitzsimmons house, trying to stave off boredom. Nothing had happened since Mark had returned from his jog. The disgusting pervert had a naked woman with him. He took her inside the house across the street. Fifteen minutes later, he left there with a smile on his face. The poor woman was married; I saw her kiss her husband goodbye from the open doorway in a loose dressing gown twenty minutes later.

Did Mark make the husband watch? Did the pervert get off on making the man watch the woman he loved being violated before him? Mark made Desiree's husband, Brandon, watch as he defiled her. Fucking Warlocks.

My fingers slipped under my skirt. The woman across the street was quite beautiful.

I bet Mark fucked her, bent over a table, his hands squeezing her ass. I moaned, slowly rubbing my clit in delicious circles. I pictured her husband sitting in the corner of the kitchen, looking sad and pathetic while his wife howled and moaned like a whore for Mark.

I fucked my fingers slowly in and out of my cunt. The woman would be a whore for Mark. That's what he did. Degrade women. Turning them into his cum-buckets. I bit my lip, imaging the woman's breasts. They looked like a nice pair beneath that silk robe. With hard nipples. Mark would squeeze them as he drove his cock into her pussy, and she would gasp and moan, thinking she loved it.

She should put that mouth to better use.

I rubbed my pussy harder, picturing the woman between my thighs, her tongue licking through my folds. Mark looked on, sad and pathetic while his whore pleasured me. Her tongue was agile, worming deep, brushing all the wonderful spots inside me.

"Yes, yes, lick my pussy!" I hissed as my orgasm roared through me. I breathed hard, my eyes fluttering open. "I'll make sure he never touches you again," I promised the woman.

Nothing else had happened for two more hours. Then the garage doors slid open. The silver Mustang pulled out first. I could just make out Mark and a young woman as the Mustang roared down the street, followed quickly by one of the redheads in a maroon Volkswagen Eos. A gray Toyota parked across the street followed them out, one of the neighbors off to work.

I rushed outside to follow Mary.

This might be my only chance to catch Marks number one woman alone. I climbed into the black BMW I borrowed from Brandon and fumbled at the keys. Mary roared down the street, driving almost as fast as Mark had.

"Come on," I moaned as I yanked the door open. She was getting away.

A third car pulled out of the driveway, a white BMW driven by Desiree and crowded with three other women. I started Brandon's car and pulled out behind them. Desiree didn't drive as reckless as Mark and Mary.

"Dammit," I moaned when we reached the main road.

The Eos was gone. I stared at Desiree's car, my fingers drumming on the steering wheel. There were four of his Thralls in there. She made the turn onto Shaw Road.

I decided to follow.

Maybe I could get the opportunity to perform the Prayer of Zanah--transforming them into my weapons--on one or all of them, and get the odds back in my favor. I turned onto Shaw Road and followed the White BMW, my heart beating with excitement.

Be ever watchful for Providence. Do not let your own prejudices blind you from the Creator's path.

--excerpt from The Prayerbook of the Order of Mary Magdalene

Mark Glassner

I kept glancing at Violet's coltish legs peaking out underneath her pink skirt as I drove my Mustang out of the housing development onto Shaw Road. I placed a hand on her thigh, sliding up under her skirt. Violet beamed at me, her face flushed with excitement.

"Thank you for letting me come with you, Master," she said in a cheerful soprano.

She was a cute nineteen year old. Her brown hair was pulled into two pigtails over her ears, tied off with pink ribbons. Her breasts were small and shapely and her body slim with youth beneath the conservative dress she wore. That dress would definitely not do, my sluts needed to show the world just how whorish they were.

"Did you like sucking my cock yesterday?" I asked.

Violet nodded her head, blushing to the roots. She was a virgin before I fucked her in the elevator yesterday. Her hands reached out and she gently rubbed my cock through my jeans, feeling it harden in my pants. "W-would you like me to do that, Master?" she nervously asked.

"Definitely," I answered.

There was a metallic rasp as she slowly drew my zipper down and then her warm, delicate hand reached into my pants and pulled out my hard cock. She bent down, her breath warm on my cock as she slowly ran her hand up and down on my dick. She tentatively stuck out her tongue, licking up the shaft and brushing the sensitive head.

"Just like that," I told her. "Use more pressure, yeah that's good." Her tongue felt amazing as she lapped at my cock. "Stroke the shaft and cup the balls." I winced as she squeezed one of my nuts. "Gentle with the balls."

"Sorry, Master," she apologized. "I was a lesbian until yesterday."

I grinned at her. "And now you love my cock, don't you?"

"I do, Master!" she gushed.

"Good, now suck the tip into your mouth. And be careful with your teeth," I told her. "You can brush the cock with them, just don't bite hard. Ohh, yeah that's nice. Keep doing that with your tongue. Suck it like a lollipop. Oh fuck that's good. And see how much you can fit in your mouth."

She bobbed her head now, moving slowly down until my cock brushed the back of her throat and then rising up. It wasn't the best blowjob I ever had, but knowing it added to her innocent charm--I savored corrupting her. She sucked harder as her right hand drifted over to her thighs and slip up under her dress to finger her cunt.

Horny little slut.

Violet was turning into a great slut. I was proud of her, and stroked her brown hair as she bobbed on me. "I'm gonna cum, slut," I told her, the tip of my cock itching. "So don't be surprised. Try to swallow what you can."

She sucked harder, eager for my cum. The pressure built. I groaned, shoving her mouth down on my cock. My cock throbbed and my pleasure erupted into her mouth. She swallowed, moaning as a second and a third load pumped into her mouth, cum spilling out the corners of her lips.

"Fuck," I gasped as the last bit of my cum spurted out. Bliss pumped through me and I groaned, letting her rise up.

She breathed hard, cum smeared across her lips and tears ran down her face. "Was it good?" she asked, wiping at her tears.

"It was great!" I told her, kissing her forehead. "You're turning into a good, little slut. I'm very proud of you."

"Thank you, Master," she said, smiling happily, still masturbating. "Umm, I'm going to cum, too! I love sucking your cock Master!" Violet's eyes fluttered and her thighs squeezed about her hand. She squealed and sighed as she came.

"Good one?"

"Uh-huh, Master," she panted, pulling her fingers out.

I seized her hand and pulled her fingers to my lips. I sucked them clean, loving her light, barely spicy flavor musk. She had a pleased smile as I cleaned her. God, she was so innocent and cute. I am so glad Mary decided to keep her.

I pulled into the South Hill Mall. I needed one thing before I robbed my first bank. Duffel bags. Money was bulky, and I'd need a lot of bags to hold it all in. We headed into a sporting goods store, and Violet and I grabbed as many as we could carry.

We would have been out of there in five minutes, but I became distracted. Her name was Ambrosia. She had brown hair and a beautiful smile, her breasts staining the purple shirt she wore. She gasped when I walked up.

"You're Mark Glassner."

"I am," I smiled at her, reaching out to touch her wrist.

"I've heard about you," she purred. "They say you fuck whomever you want. Is it true?"

"You don't think I'm a terrorist?"

Her smile deepened. "If you're a terrorist, why do all your victims love what you did to them?"

"Do you want to be a victim?"

Her eyes widened. "Yes." Her answer was a throaty moan.

"Then pull your pants and panties off. Let's find out if you taste like ambrosia."

Her hands flew to her panties, unbuttoning them. She wiggled them down her curvy hips, pulling a pair of sea-green panties down in the process. A neatly trimmed, brown bush adorned her pussy. I bent down, pushing a finger through her folds.

"What is going on here?" a man demanded. He looked like the manager.

"Nothing," I told him. "Go jerk off in the bathroom."

Violet giggled. "He's almost running for the bathroom, Master."

I smiled, pulling my fingers out of Ambrosia's folds. Juices glistened on the tip. I brought them to my lips, tasting her tart flavor. "Umm, that's good. Want a taste of Ambrosia, slut?"

"Yes, Master," Violet sighed, kneeling next to me. She didn't stick her finger into Ambrosia's pussy, she stuck her entire face.

"Oh, wow!" Ambrosia gasped as Violet tongued her twat. "Umm, fuck! How could a terrorist make me feel this good?"

I smiled, my cock throbbing in my pants. I stood up, unzipping my jeans, my hard cock popping out. I ached to bury into this whore's flesh. I walked around behind her, admiring her bubbly ass. I pushed her forward, bending her over the counter.

"This is going to hurt," I whispered, rubbing my cock against her asshole. "But you're going to love every second of it."

I shoved my dick into her unlubed asshole. She let out a throaty scream. "Oh, fuck! That's wonderful!" She pushed her ass back. "Umm, the pain's so amazing! Oh, yes!"

It worked. I fucked her harder, my cock aching in her tight asshole. Violet slurped at her cunt and the woman gasped and moaned as I pounded her tight ass. I seized a fistful of her brown hair, jerking her head back.

"Do you love my cock up your ass, whore?"

"Yes!" she moaned. "Fuck, yes!"

"That's how you love it from now on. You want every guy to fuck your asshole. It will always feel amazing no matter how much it hurts!"

"It will! I'm an anal slut now! Oh, yes! Pound me harder! Make me cum with your thick cock!"

I slammed into her ass, my lust boiling over. There was nothing I couldn't do. Customers gasped as they saw us, pulling out their cell phones. Some called the police. Others snapped photos. I smiled, fucking my whore faster.

Sirens blared. The first cop was approaching. I didn't care.

"Police!" a deep voice boomed.

I turned, still pumping, as the cop gave a startled look. "Oh, shit, sorry Mr. Glassner."

It was one of the cops I met on my jog.

"Officer," I nodded, burying my dick into her ass. "I'm almost done here."

"Roger that, sir."

I buried into the woman's ass and unloaded my cum. I shuddered and she gasped. Her ass writhed about my cock, milking out every thick blast. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping the people watching captured every moment of my ecstasy.

I pulled my cock out. "Slut, clean me up."

Violet's moved her face from Ambrosia's cunt, dripping with her cum, and licked my cock clean while I smiled at everyone.

"Get all the pictures you can," I told them, slapping Ambrosia's ass. "Make sure you capture my cum leaking out of her. Let's make this slut famous. Mark Glassner fucked her ass."

"You did," she sighed. "So well!"

Violet finished cleaning and zipped me up. "I want all these pictures uploaded on the internet," I called out as Violet and I walked out of the star. "Officer, get our duffel bags."

"Yes, Mr. Glassner."

Next stop was America Bank in Parkland. Ted, the branch manager, had screwed me over there two years when my debit card was stolen. I lost my apartment because I couldn't pay rent. The asshole held up my fraud claim.

Robbing his bank would be the perfect pay back.

Sister Louise Afra

I followed Mark's thralls to the South Hill Mall and parked Brandon's BMW next to a silver Mustang. An excited thrill shot through me. I always felt so alive when I was narrowing in on a Warlock. Mark Glassner wasn't going to know what hit him.

I followed the four women through the parking lot. Desiree led them. I had imprinted her last night. At a command, she would obey me. The other three were the missing waitresses--a strawberry-blonde named Fiona, the black-haired was Korina, and the busty Asian was Xiu.

Please God, I prayed, give me the opportunity to save these women.

I followed them into the mall, trailing at a safe distance. I just needed to be patient and be careful. Providence would grant me the opportunities I needed. It wasn't hard to follow them. None of the four women paid attention one bit. I could have followed ten feet behind them, and they wouldn't have realized I was a threat.

They led me to a clothing store called Navy Republic, and I realized why they were here. The three waitress had arrived naked last night. The pervert had made them parade through a hotel lobby yesterday without a stitch of clothing. It had made the news last night, complete with hotel security footage of their blurred bodies.

I browsed the clothing racks and watched the women out of the corners of my eyes as they spread out across the store.

"Hi, welcome to Navy Republic," a nasally pitched, effeminate voice asked me. I turned to see a slim young man whose nametag read, "Gabe."

I blinked in surprise. He had a faint, blue-black aura about him. Mark must have been here and given him a minor order. The aura was fading and would be gone in another week or so. Gabe was not under any lasting commands or suffering any personality changes.

"I'm fine," I told him with a polite smile.

Fiona headed for the changing room, a dress slung over her arm. I pushed past Gabe, grabbing the first blouse off the rack.

"Excuse me, miss," Gabe protested, his words dripping with attitude. "You don't need to be rude."

I ignored him. I reached the changing area in the back. The redhead had already entered her changing room and closed the door. Shoot. Thinking quickly, I knocked on the door.

"Yes," she answered.

"Hi, I'm Louise with Navy Republic and I just need to talk to you."

The redhead opened the door, frowning at me. I moved quickly, shoving my hand over her mouth and pushing her back into the changing room. She struggled as I pinned her against the wall, the door banging shut behind me.

"Don't fight," I told her.

She didn't listen.

I shoved my hand down her loose-fitting jeans and found her hairy pussy. She struggled and tried to bite my hand covering her mouth. My finger found her cunt and wiggled in, finger-fucking her hard and fast. Being transformed into a sex slave by a Warlock usually left the woman incapable of resisting being molested.

Not this woman.

My face stung as she slapped me. I had to pull my hand from her mouth to block the second blow.

"Help!" she screamed. "Desiree, Korina! Help me!"

I silenced her the only way I could, kissing her hard while I pinned one of her arms to the wall.

Her free hand clawed at my hair, trying to pull me off her lips. I gasped in pain into her lips, working my fingers faster in and out of her pussy. I swiped my thumb through her curly pubes and found her clit. I pressed hard against the nub, rubbing in small, fast circles. She stiffened in my arms. Her cunt grew wet as her body began to react to my stimulation.

The resistance fled her body and she stopped pulling at my hair. Her lips relaxed, and I shoved my tongue into her mouth, tasting mint from her toothpaste. Her hips shifted as the pleasure from her pussy slowly spread throughout her body.

She surrendered to me with a passionate moan.

Her lips were hot on mine as she kissed me back, her hips writhed on my hand. Her hand gripped my hair, pulling me tight against her as she moaned into my mouth. I let go her other arm, and she wrapped it around me, caressing my back through my blouse. I slipped that hand up her shirt and found a large breast, gently caressing and squeezing her soft, round tit. I brushed her areola and gently circled her nipple before I finally rolled the turgid nub between my fingers.

The redhead shuddered in my arms as her orgasm rolled through her body. Without thinking, my hand groping her breast slid down to my own, wet pussy, and coated my finger with my juices. I kept fingering her, extending her orgasm, and I quickly drew the Mark of Qayin on her forehead with my juices.

"Zanah!" I prayed. The Mark glowed white on her forehead.

One Thrall imprinted. Two to go.

As the Living God traveled from bank to bank, he accepted their offerings with gratitude and enjoyed their women with passion. One of our Gods most passionate followers had her awakening that day. Monica learned true freedom, and went out into the world, first sharing her message with her husband and master Jonathon, and then with the world.

--The Gospel of April 10:25-26

Mary Sullivan -- Parkland, WA

"How are you doing, Mary?" Alice greeted me with a friendly hug.

I stood in her office at Evergreen Realty. I had sped down the freeway, eager to see her. Alice had been a good friend to my older sister, Shannon. Unlike Shannon's other friends, Alice had always been kind and friendly to me, often providing a shoulder to cry on. We kept close on Facebook after she graduated high school and I had even been a bridesmaid in her wedding last year.

"I'm engaged," I told her, excitedly holding out my hand to show off black diamond ring Mark had given me Saturday night.

"Oh that's amazing," Alice cooed. "So Mike finally proposed?"

I shook my head. "We broke up. His name is Mark. And I know it's fast, but he's the one. I just know it."

"Wow," Alice said, a little flummoxed. "How long have you known him?"

"Since Wednesday night," I smiled. "We started dating on Thursday."

She bit her lip. "So it's true. You really are involved with the terrorist. It's all over the news. Your sister is worried sick about you."​