Incest/Taboo The Devil's Pact

Cast of Characters

Warlocks

Mark Glassner

Mary Sullivan

Sex Slaves

Alison

Desiree Fitzsimmons

Lana

Chantelle

Xiu

Korina

Fiona

Violet

Lillian

Demons

Lucifer

Lilith

Sisters of Mary Magdalene

Mother Superior Maryām

Sister Theodora Mariam

Sister Louise Afra

Other

Brandon Fitzsimmons

Doug Allard, P.I.

Tina Allard

Agent Noel Heinrich, FBI

Jessica St. Pierre, Reporter

Nurse Thamina

Dominion Ramiel, Angel

Prologue

Lilith's daughters stalk,

devouring men.

Fever burns,

flesh fails.

Lilith's daughters stalk,

and men cry out.

They cry out for

salvation.

For the Living Gods.

Lilith's daughters stalk,

while Seattle burns.

--Songs of Man's Lament 1:1-3

Lilith -- The Abyss

I smirked as Mark Glassner walked into the Priestess's trap. Sister Louise Afra was a beautiful specimen, and my eyes drank in her lush figure as she strode calmly through the mayhem. I watched them from the Shadows, the highest layer of the Abyss, so close to the living world that I could see it, hear it, and even smell it, but I couldn't touch it.

Chasity's--one of Mark's Thralls--gun barked, shooting Desiree, a brown-skinned Thrall controlled by Sister Louise, in the breast.

My pussy grew wet at the violence.

"It looks like your plan is unraveling, Lucifer," I smirked. "He's forgotten all about the crystal."

I could feel the crystal in Mark's jean's pocket. A point connected to my soul, the last bit of obligation I owed Lucifer from eons past when I had been a mortal woman spurned by my husband. Why had he finally given it to this Mortal?

"She has not exorcised him yet," Lucifer answered, his voice unperturbed as Mark was clubbed from behind and pinned.

He glowed beside me. I could not look directly at the Morning Star. He always burned so bright with pride. I delighted in watching his plan unravel, to witness his humiliating failure. Mark was subdued by his own Thralls. The women he called a sluts. What a disgusting man. All he did was demean women.

Every man did.

"Look at him fight her cunt," I laughed, savoring the sight of the Priestess's hips working up and down on Mark's cock, the disgusting sack of flesh straining to stop his orgasm.

In the middle of the struggle, the slug remembered the crystal. He struggled, reaching into his pants to grab it. My good mood dwindled. Lucifer grew even brighter. This was the Morning Star's last humiliation for me, forcing me to be bound to a man. My eyes flickered to the Priestess.

If I was summoned, I could use the Priestess. My eyes widened in realization of the possibilities Sister Louise represented. She was a priestess. She could be my vessel. I stilled my excitement. I couldn't betray anything to Lucifer. He could not know my plans.

"Looks like he's undone," I forced myself to purr--I had to maintain my disdain, I couldn't let Lucifer become suspicious of my plans--when the crystal sailed out of Mark's hand. My insides clenched in fear. Hope lurked inside me. Freedom from my prison had almost been in reach. But if Mark could recover the Crystal and--

His woman grasped it. Mary. She spoke the words, completing the ritual. I was bound to her, summoned to my Mistress's side, my spirit yanked towards the mortal world. The boundary between the Shadows and reality grew thin. I stepped through the Shadows into the real world.

I was free. Not permanently. Once Mary used up her three boons, I would be cast back into the prison. But I had a Priestess in my grasp. If I manipulated Mark and Mary right, I just might seize the key to my freedom.

Lucifer was a fool to give me this opportunity. He should have listened to me when I told him to choose that whore Astarte for this task. He will howl and gnash his teeth when I am free, and he rots in the Abyss.

As the Tyrants' prominence grew, they drew the attention of Law Enforcement. In less than a week, Mark Glassner had been placed on the Ten Most Wanted List, vaulting his profile to a national level. Agent Noel Heinrich was central in the FBI's attempt to stop them.

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

Monday, June 10th, 2013 -- Agent Noel Heinrich -- Tacoma, WA

I reached the doorbell first, Special Agent Peterson, a senior agent, at my heels. Mark Glassner had struck again. He robbed three different banks, using his gas to make the branch managers claim responsibility.

Watching the security tapes was sobering. At each bank he sexually assaulted at least one bank teller. While the women all seemed to enjoy the assault, it was the gas. Whatever compound Mark Glassner used made people biddable to his commands had robbed his victims of the ability to consent.

That's why we were at the home of Monica Jephson. She was the victim from the first bank robbed this morning. Shortly after Mark departed the Parkland branch of American Bank, she left with a fellow bank teller, Kylie Cooke. Based on what we heard from the security tapes, she should be home.

I rang the doorbell, then adjusted my mirrored sunglasses, keeping my youthful face still and serious. If I smiled, I looked far too pretty to be an FBI agent, even with my sandy-blonde hair pulled up into a tight bun.

Peterson stood beside me in his cheap, gray suit and navy-blue FBI windbreaker. He rubbed at his balding head, shifting in agitation. We were getting a lot of heat as this case grew more and more bizarre. Our SAC, the Special-Agent-in-Charge of the Tacoma office, chewed out Peterson earlier today, and I knew Quantico chewed out the SAC last night.

No one knew how Mark made people obey. No trace of the gas--it had to be a gas, what else made sense--could be found. And if it wasn't a gas, then how? Hypnosis?

Peterson let out a growl and hammered at the door. "Come on," he snarled. "It's the FBI! Open up!"

Peterson was persistent. The door rattled as he hammered on it. Lights were on inside. A curtain stirred on the second floor. The door creaked beneath Peterson's repeated blows. He was about to break down a victim's door.

"Sir," I said. "You need to..."

My voice trailed off as he glowered at me.

I was still a junior agent. I barely had any field time. My job was to be quiet and learn from the best. Peterson had an amazing record in counter-terrorism and bank robberies. I was lucky to work with him.

If his head didn't explode from the strain of this case.

Footsteps echoed inside. The door opened. A plain-faced, young man, his brown hair mused, wearing a loosely wrapped, blue bathrobe opened the door. "Um, can I help you?" he frowned, fear tinging his eyes.

"I'm Special Agent Peterson and this is Agent Heinrich," Peterson answered. "We need to speak to Monica Jephson."

"I'm her husband, Jonathon. She's a little tied up right now." A slight smirk crossed Jonathon's lips. Why? "Can you come back later?"

"I'm afraid not, sir," Agent Peterson answered, seeming cool and collected again. He hid his agitation well. "There was a robbery at the bank where she worked today. We need to interview her." He hesitated, shifting uncomfortably. "Your wife may also be the victim of a...um...sexual assault."

"Well, come on in, and I'll go untie her."

"Untie...her, sir?" Peterson asked as my brows furrowed.

"She's my sex-slave," Jonathon answered with a sheepish smile. "I like to tie her up."

Peterson flushed, but I couldn't help the amuse smiled curling my lips. "We'll wait in your living room, if that's okay, sir?" I asked.

"Sure, sure," he nodded, holding the door open as he headed upstairs.

"What's going on?" growled Peterson, looking up at the ceiling. "Are we walking into the shit?"

"The phone call, sir," I reminded him. "I believe Mark suggested, 'From now on, bitch, you do whatever filthy things your husband wants,' to her. This may be part of it. Or..."

Peterson eyebrows raised and my cheeks grew warm.

"She's read Fifty Shades of Gray."

The man groaned. "My wife reads that garbage. But she's never asked me to tie her up."

A few minutes later, Jonathon and his wife Monica trooped down. She wore a pink robe, a big smile on her face. My eyes flickered to her wrists and the red ligature marks. Her honey-blonde hair was a mess and her face flushed.

"Hi, I'm Monica," she smiled, sitting on the couch, her husband beside her.

I pulled out the digital recorder and hit record. "Special Agent Peterson and Agent Heinrich interviewing Monica Jephson with husband, Jonathon Jephson present, June 10th, 2013, at..." I glanced at my watch, "6:23 PM." I set the slim, silver-gray recorder down, pulling out a small note pad from my jacket pocket.

"Monica, could you tell us what happened when Mark Glassner entered the bank today?" Peterson asked.

For the last five days, ever since the Buy Best Incident, I had interviewed dozens of Mark's victims. It was always unnerving. Like most of them, Monica spoke in such glowing terms about the man. "He saved my marriage," she gushed. "I was so uptight. I wouldn't do anything for my husband. But Mark showed me how wonderful sex could be. It's not something to be ashamed of."

"Nope," her husband beamed, squeezing his wife's thigh.

"And the fact that Mark raped you doesn't at all bother you?" I asked.

"He didn't Ra*e me," she laughed. "He wanted to fuck my ass, and I was more than happy to let him."

"That was just the gas," I sighed. "You're a victim, Monica."

Her expression grew frosty. "Mark Glassner is a wonderful man. He showed me who I truly am."

"And who's that?" Peterson asked.

She looked at Jonathon with such a loving look. "My husband's sex slave." She cuddled close to Jonathon.

"And doesn't it bother you, sir?" Peterson asked. "The man raped your wife."

"Well, I was mad at first."

"He disciplined me," gushed Monica. "So wonderfully."

"But Mark's coaching really changed her. I loved Monica, but there were times when she was so frustrating. And now I feel so close to her."

"All thanks to Mark," sighed Monica. "He's so much more than a man."

I groaned. Not another one that thought Mark was an angel or an alien. That gas really messed her up. It's why Peterson and I both carried gas masks with us. If we ever found Mark, we had to be ready to stop his gas.

"Monica," I said. "We'd like you to go down to a hospital so the doctors can perform a sexual assault test."

"My husband's fucked all my holes this evening," Monica said frostily. "I don't see what that would prove. Besides I wasn't raped. I consented. And Mark changed me. So what if he robbed the bank. It's insured. The man deserves his money."

"I think it's time you left," Jonathon added. "You're agitating my wife."

I glanced at Peterson. He gave a slight shrug.

"Interview terminated, 7:04 PM," I said into the recorder, thumbing off the switch. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a card. "If you do change your mind, that's our office number. On the back, there's the number for a counselor. I suggest you follow up."

"On what?" Monica huffed. "What happened between Mark and I is none of your business."

I sighed and stood up. Outside the house, Peterson groaned, "That was a fucking waste."

"What do we do know? Interview the other bank victims?"

"Why?" he snorted. "They'll just say the same thing. His victims worship him. He's like some fucking cult leader." He looked at me. "What do you want to do?"

"Me, sir?" I blinked.

"I'm out of ideas."

"Well, he seems to be based out of South Hill. We need more assets in the area. So I think we need to get the Puyallup Police Department more involved."

"Give them a call," he sighed as we walked to the car. "Let's see if we can speak to the chief tonight."

I pulled out my cell phone once I was in our sedan. I found the number for the Puyallup Police department, dialed it, and spoke to the duty sergeant for a few minutes as Peterson drove our car down Portland Avenue towards Highway 512.

"Well?" Peterson asked when I hung up.

"Chief Hayworth will meet with us," I answered. "Later on tonight. He's at some officer involved shooting. We can wait at the precinct."

"I hope they have decent coffee," Peterson grumbled, pulling on to 512 and heading east to Puyallup.

Desiree Fitzsimmons -- South Hill, WA

"You fucking whore!" Alison, mi Sirenita, yelled at Sister Louise, the terrible woman that had robbed my will and turned not just me, but almost all of the sluts, against our Master.

Alison swung the wooden spoon in her hand hard, smacking it across Sister Louise's pale ass. It made a satisfying sting.

"Please stop!" Sister Louise begged in pain. "Please, it hurts! Ahhh!"

I slammed my wooden spoon on her reddening ass. I almost died because this terrible puta turned me against mi Rey and mi Reina. "You deserve to suffer, puta!" I screamed.

Mi Rey and mi Reina watched, cuddled together on a chair, holding each other after the trauma this damned nun had put us through. Ever since yesterday when she molested Alison and myself, I knew I was her slave. There was a presence in the back of my mind that was all hers. It was so tightly held, I couldn't reveal it to mi Rey. I had to pretend everything was normal. The puta robbed me of my will. She controlled me like a puppet.

My wooden spoon smacked against her ass again.

"Please, God, save your servant!"

Smack! Alison hit her ass, and Sister Louise sobbed in pain.

Smack! I hit her ass.

Smack!

"I beg of you, God!"

Her pleading was growing tiresome.

"Alison, muffle this whore's mouth with your pussy," I hissed. "Make her eat you out while I chastise you."

I glanced at mi Rey. His blue eyes sparkled with approval, a boyish grin split his lips. A happy fluttered went through me. He was pleased with my actions.

"No, don't," moaned the nun as Alison seized her blonde hair, pulling her tear-stained face to mi Sirenita's pussy.

I smiled as my little mermaid rubbed Sister Louise's face into her pussy. My heart beat a little faster. Alison was the second most beautiful woman in the world. The first was mi Reina. Her youthful face widened, framed by dyed-pink hair, as she ground her face on the nun's lips. Alison's perky tits jiggled, the silver barbell's piercing her nipples flashed in the light.

I smacked the whore nun's ass. "Lick her. You enjoyed licking her pussy when you enslaved us, so why are you balking now?"

"Yes, she did," moaned Alison. "She's a lesbo slut. Now lick my snatch, cunt."

Smack!

Sister Louise's yelp was muffled by Alison's snatch.

"That's it, cunt," purred Alison, her cute face twisted in delight. "Work that tongue through my pussy lips. You were bad, but you can start to make things right."

I smacked my spoon on her ass, leaving another bright welt. Her scream mad my pussy even wetter. I squeezed my thighs together, pressing on my aching clit. Alison's eyes squeezed shut as she writhed her hips.

"Is she doing a good job, mi Sirenita?" I purred.

"Passable," moaned Alison. "Spank her again. Encourage her to really eat my pussy."

Crack!

Sister Louise's asscheeks writhed after the spoon smacked her burning flesh. "You heard her, puta. Eat my darling lover's snatch."

"Umm, that's it," smiled Alison. "She's getting it now. Ohh, yes. Stick that tongue up my twat."

"Don't stop spanking her," mi Reina hissed.

"Yes, mi Reina," I purred, flashing her a smile as I cracked my spoon down.

Her green eyes sparkled with hatred. Mi Rey tightened his arm about her shoulders. Such love. I never experienced that with Brandon. My husband was a pig. I only married him for his money. I didn't like cock really. Well, I loved mi Rey's cock, but he was more than a man. I glanced at Alison as I smacked the nun's ass again.

Maybe I could find that love with Alison.

We had grown close the last few days. We made love almost the entire time our Masters were up in Seattle. She was a sweet girl, a wounded soul hiding behind her slutty act. I wanted to hold her and heal the wounds she tried to hide.

I'm not even sure the girl knew she bore those wounds.

"Oh, fuck! Eat my twat, cunt! That's it. Love my pussy! Oh, Desiree, this slut is munching my snatch. She loves it!"

"I think we have a potential muff diver, mi Reina," I purred. "This cunt will be trained to enjoy licking your snatch."

"Good," mi Reina hissed, her green eyes narrowing in rage.

I cracked the spoon down again.

"Yes, yes, yes!" howled Alison. "This bitch is making me cum! Oh, fuck! It's so hot to make her eat my cunt! Oh, yes! Love my pussy!"

I smiled at the beautiful, young woman and smacked Sister Louise's ass again.

"Oh, Desiree. You have got to try her. You'll love her tongue."

"If you'll keep her motivated," I purred, handing Alison my spoon.

"Gladly."

Mark Glassner

The living room was a mess. Furniture lay strewn about, the carpet was sticky with blood from Korina and Desiree's wounds. Korina was in the kitchen, attended to by Fiona. She was shot, but the bleeding was under control.

Chasity leaned against the wall, her gun still clutched in one hand while she listened to her police radio with the other. She was naked and lovely, a blonde Valkyrie, a warrior woman. And now she served me. My newest slut.

Xiu sat nearby, holding a towel to her bleeding nose. Mary had landed a nice kick while they were struggling, and Xiu's nose had broken. Violet huddled in the corner, the teenager hugging herself as she watched the nun's discipline. Alison and Desiree had swapped positions. The nun's ass was a mass of welts, her face shoved between Desiree's thighs as Alison smacked her ass.

I held Mary as she sat next to me on the recliner's arm. My head ached from the rolling pin Korina had cracked across my skull while under the control of Sister Louise. My cock stirred. The bitch deserved to be beaten. Desiree moaned in delight as she ground on the whore's face, her heavy, nut brown tits heaving.

"Please! Stop!" Sister Louise sobbed from between Desiree's thighs. "I'll lick her pussy. You don't have to keep smacking me."

Alison glanced at me, her face twisted with hatred and lust.

"Keep spanking her," Mary hissed.

I nodded at Alison. The bitch deserved it. She tried to steal our powers and take our sluts from us. And spanking was only the beginning.

"I'm sorry, please stop!"

Alison spanked her again.

"The ambulance will be here in three minutes, sir" Chasity reported, lowering her walkie-talkie. She was a Puyallup Police officer. Before the nun attacked us, I thought it would be prudent to have some bodyguards. A cadre of sexy women would be perfect, but after Louise so effortlessly took control of our sluts, I wasn't so sure anymore.

My cock was fully hard now. Alison's ass wiggled as she smacked the nun, her perky tits swaying.

"Three minutes," I smiled at Chasity. "Plenty of time for you to suck my cock."

Mary glanced at me. "Are you sure? With your head injury?"

"I'm fine, Mare," I said, giving her a quick kiss.

Chasity crossed the room, her round breasts jiggling. She had a toned, athletic body. She was far too gorgeous to be a cop. She should be a model. That's why she was my slut. Chasity sheathed her handgun in her holster. Her gunbelt was the only thing she wore.

She knelt, grasping my cock. "Umm, thank you for letting me suck your cock, Master."

I seized her blonde hair and pulled her mouth to my cock. She didn't fight me. Chasity was a good slut. "That's it, whore," I groaned as her mouth engulfed my cock. "Swirl that tongue about my dick."

I had almost lost this wonderful joy. The only thing I loved more than dominating a hot woman was my fiancee, Mary. And I was so glad she enjoyed dominating sluts as much as I did. Her green eyes were fixed on Sister Louise's burning ass. I groaned, watching Alison's spoon smack her flesh over and over as Chasity bobbed her head on my cock.

"Suck it, slut," I purred, stroking her blonde hair. "You're eager for my cum. You can't wait to taste every last drop."

Chasity moaned around my dick, humming vibrations through me. She was definitely eager. What a great slut. I loved all of my sluts. Not as much as my fiancee. They were my property, my toys, and I loved them for their submission.

Not that they had much choice. I sold my soul for the power to command others.

Chasity's fingers massaged my cock as she took more and more of my cock between her lips. I thrust my hips up, forcing my cock deeper into her throat. She slurped and sucked while Desiree moaned and groaned on Sister Louise's lips.

"That's it. Swallow my cock now. Deep throat me."

Chasity obeyed. Her throat opened and she slid my cock down her gullet. I groaned as she massaged my dick with her esophagus, her hums even stronger. I shuddered, my balls tightening, ready to drown her in cum.

"Oh, mi Sirenita!" moaned Desiree. "Oh, yes. This puta knows how to eat pussy!"

"Are you gonna cum?" purred Alison, smacking the nun's ass.

"Yes! Oh, yes!" Desiree's large tits shock as her body fucked.

"Cum on the cunt's face," Mary ordered. "Make her drink every drop of your pussy juices, slut!"

"Yes, mi Reina!" screamed Desiree. "I'm cumming! Oh, fuck! Drink my pussy cream, puta!"

"Drink them, whore!" commanded Alison, smacking the spoon down.

It was such a hot sight. Desiree's brown thighs clamped down on Sister Louis's pale face as she orgasmed. My balls swelled. I gripped Chasity's blonde hair, forcing her mouth down. I groaned as my cum squirted out of me.

Three hard blasts left me panting and groaning. Chasity was a good slut; she swallowed every drop, savoring my delicious cum. Her tongue swirled around my cock. She sucked hard one last time. I relaxed my grip, and Chasity slid her mouth off my cock.

"Did I please you, Master?" she asked with such a beautiful smile.

"So much," I told her, stroking her cheek. "Go give Alison and Desiree a kiss. They deserve a taste of my cum."

Chasity smiled, standing up and walking over to Alison. The pink-haired slut enthusiastically kissed Chasity while Desiree watched with an eager smile. A siren echoed outside, then a second, growing closer.

The police and paramedics were arriving.

Mary Sullivan

I squeezed my thighs together, savoring the burning in my pussy as I enjoyed the sight of Sister Louise's welted ass. Chasity broke the kiss with Alison, leaning over and giving Desiree and equally passionate kiss. This new slut was gorgeous. Mark always had great taste in his slaves.

Mark kissed my wrist right above the burning scrapes from the nun's handcuffs. "I gotta head off the police and medics, Mare. I need to make sure they understand what's going on."

"Yeah," I said, barely hearing him.

This day had turned into such a nightmare. I had never felt so helpless than when I was handcuffed while the nun rode Mark. Our lives almost came to end. Without Mark's mind control powers, we would be criminals for the acts we've committed.

The women we've molested.

They're just ants. Mark and I are special. They're just ants. We can do what we like to them.

Repeating Mark's words from earlier today helped to assuage my guilt. The more I said them, the more I believed them.

"You okay, Mare?" my fiance asked.

I sighed. "Just tired."

"It'll be okay, Mare." He kissed my forehead. He was such a sweetie. I couldn't lose him.

"Sure, it will," I whispered, tears brimming in my eyes as the fear returned. "Until the next nun comes."

"We defeated this one, we can defeat the next one," he said with conviction. I looked in his blue eyes. He wasn't as sure as he sounded. I saw the fear. But it's nice that he tried. "We're better than them. And we have Lilith now."

I nodded, wiping at my tears. I tried to appear convinced, to hide my fears. I'm not sure I succeeded. But we did have Lilith. The demoness had defeated Sister Louise. But only one boon remained. What happens when we use our last wish?

"Okay, Mark. Let's go talk to the police."

I slipped off the recliner's arm and held out my hand. Mark took it, standing up. He was a little unsteady. Korina had hit him hard with the rolling pin, a large lump swelling on the side of his head. I wrapped my arm around his waist to support him.

"I have you," I smiled.

"Thanks, Mare."

Together we walked outside as the sound of sirens grew louder. It was still light outside, the sun just setting. It was hard to believe that from the time I walked through the door and was attacked to now was only thirty or so minutes. It seemed like hours ago while I lay handcuffed to the couch, watching Mark struggle with the nun and the dominated sluts.

It was so normal outside. Our entire world had just been turned upside down, and yet out on the street, everything seemed the same. Up the street, a man mowed his lawn. On the porch next door a woman dressed in a business jacket and skirt smoked a cigarette while sitting on a porch swing.

Sirens grew in the distance, and a Puyallup patrol car was the first emergency vehicle to race up the road, parking next to Chasity's cruiser. Two more patrol cars quickly followed, cops spilling out, looking concerned.

Mark waved at them as they ran up. "Officers, I'm Mark Glassner and this is Mary Sullivan," he said, giving them his "cop" commands. "Anything we do is perfectly legal. If anyone approaches you and says 'I serve Mark Glassner' or 'I serve Mary Sullivan' you will do whatever they say."

The three cops nodded. "Okay, Mr. Glassner," the elder of the trio said. His hair was graying and he had white chevron stripes on his sleeves. I guessed he was a sergeant.

"Okay, there's a woman with a gunshot to the arm in the kitchen," Mark continued. "The woman who shot her is Louise Afra, and she is being disciplined inside. I will keep custody of her and make sure she's punished."

The sergeant didn't even blink. "Absolutely, Mr Glassner."

Mark groaned and swayed. I held onto him, trying to keep him from stumbling, grunting with the effort to steady him.

"Are you all right, sir?" the sergeant asked.

"I'm fine," my fiance muttered.

I shook my head. Men and their pigheadedness. "He got hit in the head," I said, looking at Mark with concern. "Hard."

"You should have the paramedics check you out," the sergeant said. "They'll be here soon."

* * *

Doug Allard

I sat in my Toyota in disbelief.

Sister Louise had failed. I caught her entire attack against Mark Glassner on film. Right through Brandon Fitzsimmons's living room window. My employer was not going to be happy. Brandon thought the nun would defeat Mark.

Hell, I thought so, too. So now how would Mark be defeated? The man controlled people somehow. He had some dark power or magic. It was insane.

Sirens blared and three Puyallup Police Cruisers rushed by. Mark and Mary stepped out to greet the arriving cops. Mark looked woozy from the crack to his head, leaning on Mary. But he had no fear. The man was a wanted terrorist and the cops were racing up to him. I pulled out my camera, filming as the Puyallup police approached him. They looked agitated, drawing their guns.

And then Mark spoke to them.

I have no idea what he said. I couldn't hear them at this distance. But the cops demeanors relaxed. They no longer were agitated and holstered their weapons. I was a cop once, and there is no way they would relax like that just from talking to a civilian. Especially not one on the FBI's most wanted list.

Mark controlled them.

My stomach churned. If he controlled the police, he'd be unstoppable. If I had any guts, I'd shoot him. But I couldn't mur*er someone in cold blood. I wasn't that guy.

The naked, female cop stepped out, joining Mark.

This was a nightmare. My heart thudded in my chest. I couldn't stay here. I had to get away before I was noticed.

Before Mark enslaved me.

I started my Toyota. I didn't peel out as I did a U turn. There was no way I was going to attract the cop's attention. More sirens howled. More cops and probably paramedics racing to the scene. I calmly drove to the end of the street and pulled out onto Shaw Road.

I didn't know what else to do.

J. St. Pierre: After you let Mark...

A. Taylor: BLEEP me up the ass, a cop arrived.

JP: A cop? How did Mark escape?

AT: Why would Mark have to escape? He didn't do anything wrong. The cop spoke to him for a moment and let him go.

JP: You're saying that a cop recognized whom Mark Glassner was and let him go?

AT: Yeah. Mark's not a bad guy. He doesn't do anything wrong. People just misunderstand him.

--Transcript from KIRO 7 interview of Ambrosia Taylor by Jessica St. Pierre, Monday, June 10th, 2013

Officer Chasity Sarah Vinter

I walked out the house to join Master and Mistress as they spoke with my fellow Puyallup Police Officers.

Sergeant Kelly's eyes widened when he saw me. I frowned, wondering why he was so shocked to see me. He had to know I was here. I put out the call for help over the radio.

"Officer Vinter, where is the rest of your uniform?" he spluttered.

The other two cops, Chan and Evans, smiled, eyeing me with appreciation while elbowing each other.

Then I realized I was naked. My cheeks reddened, but I didn't flinch. "Mark's orders, Sergeant Kelly," I responded. If Master wanted me naked, then I would walk around naked. I would suffer any humiliation if Master or Mistress ordered it.

"It's okay for Chasity, or any woman who's beautiful, to go topless or even totally nude," Master told the cops.

"Absolutely," Officer Chan, a lean Asian in his late twenties, said as he ogled my bare tits. "No reason a body that fine shouldn't be shown."

"The prisoner is still being disciplined," I reported. "Is there anything else, Sir?"

"So, Mark, why don't you properly introduce us," Mary said, her green eyes flickering to me.

"Right," Master answered. "Mary, this is Chasity, she's going to be one of our bodyguards, or at least she will if we can figure out a way to protect the sluts from being dominated by one of these nuns."

Mistress reached out and fingered one of my hard nipples, sending a flush of warmth through me. "So...you're my slut now?" she asked.

"Yes, Ma'am," I purred.

"Fall to your knees and eat my pussy," she commanded.

I obeyed as Chan and Evans chortled. I didn't care. My Mistress gave me an order. Master's cock hardened beside my head as I buried my face in Mistress's shaved snatch. My tongue flicked out and she let out a low, throaty sigh. Her flavor was delicious, a sweet, spicy musk. I was so glad to pleasure the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.

"Damn! Look at her eat pussy!" Evans exclaimed. "I always thought Vinter was a dyke."

"Quiet!" Sergeant Kelly shouted. "You two go set up a perimeter."

"Roger, Sergeant," Chan sighed before turning and leaving with Evans.

I didn't care what those idiots said or thought. I was a dyke for my Mistress's tasty snatch. I licked my tongue through her folds, gathering up all her spicy, sweet cream. I was so lucky. I still had the taste of Master's cum on my lips, and now I was able to please Mistress.

"So...how do you like her, Mare?"

"She's amazing, Mark," Mistress moaned. "Oh, yes! Tongue my twat, cunt. You're going to make me cum so hard."

Sirens blared, rushing closer. More people to witness my submission to my Masters. My pussy was on fire. I wanted to stick my finger between my legs and frig my pussy. But I hadn't been told to masturbate.

So I just held onto to Mistress's plump ass and ate her pussy like it was the tastiest treat in the world.

"Oh, Mark! You find the best sluts! Oh, yes! Umm, all these cops are watching me! Oh, fuck! Oh, yes! I love being watched!"

Mistress's pussy grew juicier as her orgasm neared. She humped her hips.

"Cum on the slut's face, Mare," laughed Master. "I bet she can't wait to drink down every last drop of your cum."

I couldn't. I sucked harder, eager to please her. My lips latched onto her clit, sucking hard. She let out a shuddering gasp. Her hips bucked on my face. Hot juices squirted into my lips.

"I'm cumming!" she screamed. "You fucking, slut! Oh, fuck! Oh, yes! That's it!"​