Incest/Taboo The Devil's Pact

"Yes!" I hissed.

Mark kissed me again, sending a wild heat through me. "You want to fuck your father!"

"Oh, yes!" I ground my pussy harder, my fires raging.

Mark rolled me onto my back, his lips kissing and nuzzling at my ear. Then he whispered, "I can be your Daddy."

"Yes," I groaned, my legs wrapping around his hips as his hard cock nudged against my wet cunt. "Oh, fuck me, Daddy!"

Mark thrust into me. I shuddered in delight, squeezing down on his girth.

"Your cock is so big, so hard in my pussy, Daddy!" I gasped, getting into the roleplay. I pictured my father, his red hair still pulled back into a ponytail, still trying to be a hip teacher even in his forties.

"My baby girl's grown up to be so beautiful," Mark panted, thrusting hard into me. "Your pussy feels so wonderful on my cock."

"Am I making you feel good, Daddy?" I cooed in a little girl's voice. His cock felt wonderful in my pussy, driving in deep and sending waves of pleasure surging through me.

"Yes, sweetheart, your cunt's like silk on Daddy's dick! So amazing!"

"Fuck me! Fuck me, Daddy!"

The bed creaked as Mark fucked me hard. I gasped and moaned, humping my hips, getting lost in the fantasy. Mark was atop me, his cock stabbing deep into my pussy. I squeezed down as his thrusts sent tingles of electricity shooting through my body. My orgasm swelled inside me

"I'm gonna cum, baby girl! Daddy's gonna cum in your slutty pussy!"

"Oh, cum in my cunt, Daddy!" I moaned, eager for that wonderful moment. "Flood your daughter's cunt with your hut, sticky cream!"

My orgasm exploded. My pussy writhed and convulsed about him. My hips bucked up into his thrusts. I shuddered in delight, massaging his cock. I wanted my Daddy to cum in me so bad. I wanted to feel that hot cum squirting into me.

"Here it comes, cupcake!" Mark groaned, thrusting his cock in deep.

And then his cum spurted into me, a flood of liquid heat.

"Oh, yes, Daddy!" I cried out, his cum prolonging my orgasm. "Oh, thank you, Daddy!"

My pleasure reached its peak as Mark collapsed atop me. I loved feeling him. I held him tight, nuzzling and kissing his lips as the pleasure bled out of me.

"That was nice, Mark." I smiled. Mark went to to roll off me, but I held him tight. "Umm, you feel nice on top of me, Daddy."

Mark flashed his boyish grin and leaned down to kiss me.

Mark Glassner

"How am I going to sleep with my mom if my powers won't work on her?" I asked as the bliss of our naughty roleplay fell away. Lilith had suggested that I Ra*e my mom.

But I could never do that.

I would just have to seduce her. Somehow.

If only she wasn't the most uptight, religious person I knew.

She sighed, squirming beneath me. "I don't know. We'll figure it out, Mark. Together."

"Yeah." I sighed. "I guess I'll call my sister today." It was weird, thinking about seducing my sister. And exciting. She had matured into a hottie.

Mary's phone chirped. I rolled off her so she could reach it on her nightstand. She sat up in bed, her breasts naked above our mussed sheets, and read the text. Mary smiled, reading the screen and started texting back.

"Who?"

"Alice," Mary answered, focused on her phone. "She wants to get together today."

"As our Realtor or your lover?" I asked.

Mary smiled mischievously. "Both."

"Tell her I want to buy all the houses on the block."

Mary texted back, and moments later there was a reply chirp. "Hmm, she thinks it very unlikely you can buy the block, but I have faith in you, hun." Mary took a photo of herself with her phone.

"Are you sexting her?"

Mary nodded. "Here, she sent a photo." Mary held up her phone and there was a picture of a topless, raven haired beauty who used the bathroom mirror to photograph herself. She was hot. I couldn't wait to fuck her.

"Nice tits," I commented. "Not as nice as yours, of course." Mary smiled, blushing. I bent over and sucked one of her nipples into my mouth, savoring the hard nub between my lips.

There was a soft knock at the door. "Master."

"Come in," I replied, letting go of Mary's nipple with regret.

Lillian opened the door. The Goth Topic slut was naked. She must have arrived after we fell asleep last night. I wondered if she made the sex tape with the punk-rocker girl like I commanded. Her black hair, highlighted with blue and purple streaks, was pulled into two pigtails. Her pale face was accented with black lipstick and eyeliner. Gold rings pierced her right eyebrow, nose, and lip. Her pussy was shaved bare and her slit was tight and inviting.

"Master, there's a naked lady on the porch," Lillian said, "She says she's a part of the Naked Jogging Club."

"That would be Anastasia," I told Mary.

"The woman you fucked while her husband was upstairs showering?" Mary asked with an arched eyebrow.

I nodded. "Have fun sexting," I told Mary, kissing her on the lips before I crawled out of bed. "I'm going to go jogging."

"You sound so resigned," Mary giggled. "Running with a naked woman must be so trying."

"It is," I quipped. "It's the sacrifice I'm making to get in better shape for you."

Mary laughed hard, her breast jiggling. Catching her breath, a concerned look flashed across her face, and she asked me, "Are you sure you're up for it? The doctor said to take it easy with your concussion."

"I'm fine," I said dismissively. "My head doesn't hurt at all."

"Okay, hun, have fun. Burn off some of those love handles." Her phone chirped, and she giggled at whatever Alice sent her. She held up her phone to show another pic from Alice. I bent down to get a better look, and saw it was a close up shot of her shaved pussy. Mary took a picture of her own cum-stained pussy and sent the photo.

"When I get back, I think we should discipline Sister Cuntrag," I told her, not sure why the thought popped into my head. Maybe it was the sight of Mary's pussy dripping with my cum. The nun had tried to take my powers and Mary away from me. An anger flared. Sister Cuntrag needed to be punished and broken.

And I had a few ideas how to do it.

Mary looked up from her phone, anger flashing across her face. "Yeah, that sounds perfect, hun."

Alice Perry -- Tacoma, WA

Beep! Beep! Beep!

"Get the alarm, pudding," my husband, Dean, muttered sleepily.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

I tried to ignore it, wanting to sleep a little longer. Dean shifted before reaching over me and slapping the alarm. He kissed my cheek, his goatee scratchy on my neck. He looked ridiculous with the damned thing. His face was too narrow, his hair too light a shade of brown, for his goatee to look at all normal.

"Morning, Alice," Dean whispered.

I sighed, opening my eyes. "Morning," I muttered.

My bladder was full and I puttered to the bathroom. Dean had to leave for work earlier then me, so if I didn't use it now, I would have to wait until he finished showering. Even after six months of marriage, I still wasn't comfortable sharing the bathroom with my husband. I was naked as I padded to the bathroom, a good looking gal I always thought, but Dean couldn't be bothered to at least try and leer at me.

Sixth months of marriage and the fire was already gone.

Hell, it had been gone for months already. Two months ago, I had an affair with my yoga instructor, Esteban. I thought Esteban was perfect. He paid attention to me, something my husband couldn't be bothered with since he got the promotion back in January. I was about to leave my husband when I found Esteban was spending the same quality time with two other whores he taught yoga too.

So, not sure what to do, I stayed with Dean.

He was a great guy. We had a lot of fun when we were dating, he was making good money. It would be perfect if I could get my husband to pay more attention to me. And not just sex, although more than once a week would be nice, but talk to me, compliment me, confide in me. Maybe when he sees me prancing naked in front of him he could just throw me onto the bed and ravish me.

But then I reconnected with Mary Sullivan yesterday. I always had a secret flame for Mary, ever since she was fourteen and I saw her naked. Mary was my friend Shannon's younger sister. I had been staying over when Mary had just come out of the shower, nude, thinking she could dash across the hall to her bedroom.

She was coltish slim with cute, just budding breasts and a fine down of red hair covering her pussy. She froze like a dear in headlights, and blushed so prettily as I gazed at her. I had never been attracted to a girl before, but Mary's innocence filled my fantasies for weeks afterwards.

When I went to college, I messed around with a few girls, all redheads, before I met Dean in my senior year. I enjoyed the fun I had with the girls, but I liked men more. Or at least until I found myself positively dripping like a bitch in heat when Mary walked into my office yesterday. I had never seen a woman more beautiful than her.

I flirted with her and, to my amazement, she responded. Apparently, her new fiancee, Mark, had opened her eyes to all the fun she could have in bed with a woman, and eagerly took me up on my offer to go to a nearby no-tell motel I used to fuck Esteban at.

For three hours we made sweet love, and I couldn't stop thinking about her since. Mary's slim, coltish body had ripened into a beautiful young woman with pleasant curves. Her breasts were a plump handful, her ass nicely round, and her hips quite shapely.

And her tongue was dynamite on my pussy. The girl knew her way around a woman's twat.

I finished peeing and when I wiped myself, I shuddered in pleasure. I was wet and aroused from thinking of Mary. God, I had to see her today. As usual, I had my phone with me. Usually, when I was in the restroom I browsed the internet. Dean always said I was like a man taking a magazine to read in the bathroom.

Before flushing, I posed in front of the mirror and snapped a picture, capturing a nice, topless pic of myself. Flushing the toilet, I exited my bathroom. Dean brushed past without a even glancing at my breasts or ass. Oh well, if Dean didn't want to appreciate my beauty, Mary would. I got back under the covers and slipped a hand down to my wet pussy, giving my clit a flick as I texted one-handed.

"Hey Mary can't stop think about yesterday. Want get together today? 1 pm, same place?" I attached the pic I just took and sent the text.

God, I hoped she said yes.

There was a hiss as Dean started the shower. He'd be in their awhile. He took long showers. He claimed it was to help him wake up. And then he had to shave his face and style his hair. He spent almost as much time in the bathroom as a woman. I gently slid a finger up into my juicy twat. I had plenty of time to have a nice jill before he got out of the shower.

My phone chirped, Mary had sent a reply. "Can't wait 2 suck those titties!" That text was followed by a second one. "Mark wants 2 buy all houses on block. Talk about it after fun! *-)"

I blinked, slowing the speed I fucked my finger into my wet twat. Her fiance wanted to buy all the houses in a neighborhood. I was starting to wonder if Mary's fiancee wasn't lying to her. It sounded like he pretended to have a lot of money and like to dream big. And even if he did have the money, it was hard getting people to sell their houses if they didn't want to. Plus, the news kept claiming he was a terrorist. Mary denied it, and I belied her.

I would believe anything that angel told me if it let me make love to her again.

"GL getting entire neighborhood to sell," I texted back.

I closed my eyes and added a second finger. I was warm and sticky and felt so good. I picked up the rhythm, sighing hard through clenched teeth. My phone chirped and I quickly opened my eyes. "Don't count mark out." There was a pic attached.

It was Mary, nude. She lay in bed, her auburn hair tousled, her freckled breasts perky, and her dusky nipples hard.

Oh, god, she was so beautiful.

I slipped a third finger in my twat and started frantically fucking them in and out. I imagined licking those hard nipples and kissing her red lips. I could almost feel Mary's fingers slipping up inside me, her thumb rubbing on my clit, gently, in small circles.

"Oh, Mary!" I moaned quietly, "Yes, finger me! I'm so close, oh yes, yes!"

My orgasm crashed through my body, my back arched against the bed, and I bit my lip to keep from shouting my passion aloud. I pulled my sticky fingers out of my twat. I closed my eyes and licked my sweet, tangy flavor off while pretending it was Mary's juices.

I grabbed my phone, spread my legs and snapped a photo of my juicy twat. "Just came looking at your pic." I attached the pic and sent it.

"Later today I'll make you cum again ," Mary texted back, along with a picture of her twat, her vulva waxed smooth and stained with milky cum.

"Is that marks cum?" I texted back.

"Yep *-)! We had a nice fuck!"

Jealousy stabbed my heart. "Lucky, haven't had a dick fuck me in a while :-(" I texted back.

Why was I jealous? Was it that she was getting fucked and I wasn't, or that I wasn't the one fucking her? Was I falling in love with her?

Mary sent another pick. "Wish this was you." There was a black hair girl with pig-tails--blue and purple highlights streaked her hair--eating out Mary's cunt.

"Who's that?" My twat tingled with arousal and my stomach roiled with jealousy. Fuck, I think I am falling in love with this redheaded angel.

"Just a slut that I share w/ Mark *-)."

The shower stopped. Did I have time for one more orgasm. My twat was all juicy and excited. My jealousy and arousal mixed together into this irresistible force. My finger slowly slid back down to my pussy, unable to resist. There was something so wrong at thinking about Mary with another person, another woman. Creeping closer and closer to my hungry hole. I pressed my thighs together. The tingling was so nice. My fingers found my clit and I started rubbing it in small circles.

My phone chirped. Another message from Mary. "Going 2 make you cum so hard today. "

I diddled my clit faster as Mary texted me nasty messages after nasty message:

"Cant wait to eat your pussy."

"Gonna enjoy your tongue on my clit."

"Gonna shove my nipple up your pussy."

"Just came on sluts mouth, cant wait 2 flood your mouth w/ my cum."

Mary was such a nasty, wonderful girl. Her texts stoked my lust and my jealousy. I was so close, my thumb swirling hard on my clit.

"Mary!" I shouted as I came, "Oh, fuck me, Mary! Not that slut! Fuck me!"

"You okay, pudding?" Dean shouted from the bathroom.

"Yeah, just stubbed my toe," I shouted back, breathing heavily, and texted Mary, "Just came again. Cant wait for later. Going to make you cum harder than slut! GTG work."

Mary sent one last pic, posing in front of the bathroom mirror. One arm thrown up behind her hair, her perky breasts thrust forward, a tantalizing glimpse of the curve of her ass and just the hint of her tight pussy peaking out beneath her fiery heart of pubic hair. "Just something to tide you over, babe," accompanied the pic.

As my husband left the bedroom, I sent one last text. "Gonna eat your twat and drink your honey."

"Who're you texting?" Dean asked, pulling on his gray slacks.

"Oh, just Mary," I said. "She was one of my bridesmaids. Shannon's younger sister."

"The redhead?" he asked. There was a catch to his voice. Was that lust? Anger spiked my heart. Was my husband lusting after my lover? That bastard.

I thought about getting angry with him, but it wasn't worth the effort. Hell, how could I be mad when I was the one cheating on him? "Yeah," I answered, trying to sound normal.

I got up and paraded naked past my husband, my thighs sticky with my juices, and still no response from my husband. It was a good thing I had Mary, because a girl needed some appreciation of her beauty. Mary was right, if Dean didn't want to take advantage of his hot, horny wife, it was his loss. Hell, I'm not sure I wanted his attention anymore. Not when I have Mary.

I slipped into the shower, washed with my apricot flavored body wash, and remembered the shower Mary and I took yesterday.

I pretended it was Mary washing my body, soaping my breasts, gently squeezing them, and brushing the loofah softly over my sensitive nipples. Then she would wash down my flat stomach, my graceful legs, sliding up my inner thigh, closer and closer and closer to my aching pussy.

The loofah was excitedly rough on my clit, digging into the groove of my labia. She would rub the sponge back and fourth on my vulva, going slowly faster and faster, adding more and more pressure, until I screamed out my orgasm.

I had to catch the shower bar as I nearly lost my balance when I came on my loofah. I giddily laughed, high on my orgasm and the adrenaline that spiked my blood from my near catastrophe, I shakily finished my shower.

I wanted Mary. She could be all mine. She didn't need Mark. We could have so much fun with just the two of us.

I spent ten minutes trying to find the perfect outfit, something appropriate for work, but still really sexy. I settled for the shortest pencil skirt I had, a deep, royal blue with gold thread woven through out. I found a blue crop top that exposed a good deal of my cleavage and left my belly bare, then pulled a dark blue blazer on over it. With the blazer on, you couldn't tell my belly button was exposed. To be extra naughty, I wasn't wearing any bra or panties. I settled for a pair of dark brown, thigh-high stockings that just came up to the hem of my skirt.

I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror after doing my hair and make up. I slipped off the blazer, admiring my sexy figure. I looked like a model. A slutty, sex-crazed model. Mary was going to cream her panties when she saw me.

And then I would get to lick her clean.

The origins of the Patriots has been lost to history. Did the originate in the aftermath of the Miracle? Or was their genesis after the birth of the Theocracy? Perhaps their founding could be traced all the way back to a single FBI agent that was swept up into the Tyrants' depraved world.

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

Sister Cuntrag -- South Hill, WA

Your new name is Sister Cuntrag.

The hated thought repeated over and over in my mind.

Your new name is Sister Cuntrag.

It was my new, hated name, given to me by that bitch Mary, my new Mistress. I had cried and cried all night until my eyes dried, trapped in this cramp, dark closet. Time lost all meaning in here. My entire body ached. I was kneeling on the floor, my hands cuffed behind me, my wrist chaffed. My butt was on fire from those sluts spanking me and all the people who fucked me.

Your new name is Sister Cuntrag.

I failed to stop Mark. I had no idea there were two Warlocks. And a demon. I walked right into the trap. I had been soiled, my Gift stolen from me by the Demon. I felt so empty and helpless. I was no longer immune from Mark's powers. His commands chained me to him.

I was his Thrall now.

I was Sister Cuntrag. Even in my thoughts, I was that hateful name. I had to obey Mary. Mark had given me that command. His words were chains, binding my soul.

"Please, God, please save me!" I begged again. My voice croaked, my lips parched.

And then a hand caressed my back in the dark, the touch electric. Pleasure filled my body. The Ecstasy fell upon me, I wasn't forgotten by the Archangel Gabriel.

"Thank you," I whispered, sobbing with bliss.

"You have been soiled," the angelic voice whispered in my mind. "Lilith has polluted you."

"Please! I served faithfully! Just free me, Gabriel."

"You are here because of your own Pride," Gabriel answered, anger tinging his voice.

"What? I followed Providence," I protested. "I did my duty! Do not abandon me in the lion's den."

"No, you did not!" There was anger in his voice. Disappointment. "You wanted to punish Mark. To humiliate him. You let your pride get in the way of the Creator's Providence. Yesterday, Providence guided you to the South Hill Mall. You parked your car next to Mark's mustang. He was in the mall. All you had to do was let him seduce you. But you were too fixated on dominating his Thralls, on doing it your way. Not the Creator's way. You have brought your circumstances upon yourself. Your selfishness may have doomed the world."

The touch vanished, the pleasure faded.

Anger welled inside me to replace the ecstasy. "Damn you, Gabriel!" I croaked. "I served faithfully for thirty years and you cast me aside! One fucking mistake! Goddamn you, Gabriel!"

My only hope was Sister Theodora Mariam. The Ecstasy would fall on her. She would somehow have to overcome two Warlocks and a demon to free me.

Hope died inside me and I sobbed harder.

Jessica St. Pierre -- Tacoma, WA

I waited outside the Federal Building in downtown Tacoma. It wasn't a large building, and looked more like a train station than an office building. Old, red bricks formed the facade, leading up to a massive, glass skylight.

My cameraman waited nearby, holding his camera in one hand as he played around on his phone. Freddy didn't care at all that I had stumbled on to the biggest story of the year. The Puyallup Police Department might be working to protect a wanted terrorist.

I'm positive I saw Mark Glassner at the crime scene in South Hill last night, talking to the Puyallup Police. Not only did the police fail to arrest Mark, there had been no mention of Mark's involvement in the shooting.

But the Chief of Police, Arthur Hayworth, had personally visited the scene. If my theory was correct, he was under Mark's control somehow. It was shocking to contemplate the head of a police department could be aiding a terrorist.

And if it was true, I would win an Emmy.

An excited flutter passed through me. With an Emmy, I would have a bright future ahead of me.

I pulled a compact out of my pocket, checking that my honey-brown hair was still perfectly styled and there were no smudges to my makeup. I was still just as beautiful, my skin dusky. All my mixed ancestry had combined to give my face almost perfect beauty.

I was made for TV reporting.

I just had to make a name for myself.

The doors to the Federal Building open and Special Agent Peterson and his partner walked out. I strode up to the lead agent on the Glassner case, my heels clicking on the cement. My hips swayed, my tight skirt clinging to my ass and my breasts jiggling in my half-unbuttoned blouse.

Peterson smiled when he saw me, drinking in my figure, and then his expression faded when he noticed the camera. He was a balding man in a cheap suit. His partner was younger, fresh out of training, her sandy-blonde hair in a tight bun.

"Jessica St. Pierre from KIRO 7 news," I said. "Can I have a minute of your time?"

"Not really," Agent Peterson growled.

"How well is the Puyallup Police Department cooperating with the investigation?" I asked anyways, thrusting my microphone into their faces.

"Just fine," Peterson barked.

"But it doesn't concern you that Mark Glassner so easily operates in their city? He was spotted yesterday at the South Hill Mall and released from the scene by a Puyallup Police Officer."

"That hasn't been substantiated." The FBI Agent glowered at me.

"Several eyewitnesses all agree," I countered. "I interviewed them myself. They witnessed Mark interacting with the cop. They reported that the cop even identified Mark by name."

"Mark Glassner is a dangerous terrorist," the woman said. "The Police Officer you refer to may have been exposed to the mind-altering gas the suspect uses."

"And you are?" I asked.

"Agent Noel Heinrich," she answered, pulling out a pair of mirrored sunglasses and slipping them on her pretty face.

"So you think the Puyallup Police Department has been compromised?"

Peterson snorted, his lips tightening. "Of course not. That's preposterous."

Agent Heinrich stared at me for a moment. "Why do you think that? Is there something you know?"

"Me, no," I laughed as I lied. I wanted that Emmy.

"Just because you're a reporter, doesn't mean you can withhold evidence," the female FBI agent continued.

I almost rolled my eyes. I could do whatever it took to get the story. "It's just a question. Speculating on Mark's pattern. What would the consequences be if Mark had compromised the police department?"

"He hasn't," Peterson growled. "Now we have work to do. We need to catch this suspect before he causes anymore harm." He stalked off.

"Friendly," I muttered, lowering my microphone.

Agent Heinrich pulled out a card, handing it over. "If you do come across anything that proves your suspicions, call that number."

"Would I get an exclusive if I did?" I asked, arching my eyebrows. I could almost taste that Emmy.

Agent Heinrich didn't answer. She turned and strode after her partner.

"There's definitely something to this story," Freddy muttered, lowering his camera. "That Peterson reacted. He's hiding something."

I glanced at my cameraman and blinked in surprise. "Are you actually trying to contribute?"

The slovenly man shrugged. "I've watched enough liars through the viewfinder to recognize one."

I nodded my head, glancing at the FBI Agents. They feared the Puyallup Police Department was compromised, too.

"We need to start staking out that neighborhood. We need to catch glimpses of Mark coming and going. If we park out on Shaw Road in sight of the Mountain View Terrace, we can prove he lives there and that the police didn't arrest him."

Freddy nodded. "We should also check the police scanners. See what radio calls are made. I know a guy that tapes them. It'll give us something to do while we stake out the street."

I grinned. "Let's go, Freddy."

Agent Noel Heinrich

"Do you think that reporter knows something?" I asked as we walked down Pacific Avenue. The Federal Courthouse was only two blocks down the street from where we worked.

"Maybe," my partner muttered, glancing back at the news van. "No one else is asking those questions."

"Does she have a source or some evidence, or is she just speculating?"

"The story of Mark and the cop was broken by that woman," Peterson said. "I watched her report this morning. She might just be extrapolating from that one incident. If Mark can gas one cop, what's to stop him from gassing more?"

I swallowed, glancing behind me. Our gas masks were in the trunk of our car, but maybe we should wear them everywhere. It would be uncomfortable, but what if Mark did try to gas us? He already seemed to have the Puyallup Police Department under his control.

Not that our supervisor believed us. Luckily, SAC Kemp, the Special-Agent-in-Charge of the Tacoma Branch, did. That's why we were heading to the courthouse to convince Judge Grant to give us a wiretap warrant on the Puyallup Police Department.

We had to know if Chief Hayworth and his cops were compromised. If they were, this case would get messy.

I hated this case. I wish I was back in Quantico. I itched to call Kirby and spill my guts out. This Mark had to be stopped, and I was fearing traditional methods weren't up to it. But Wyatt Kirby would know what to do. He had been my training instructor two years ago. I could always count on his solid advice.

He was retired now, making a fortune in the private security world. I was sure he'd have an idea or two on how to take down Mark. I felt better, some of my tension melting now that I made the decision to call him.

Peterson and I strode into the Federal Courthouse, flashing our badges and walking through the metal detectors. They beeped as we passed through. We took the elevator up to the fifth floor and walked down to the Judge's office.

Peterson knocked at the door.

"Come in," a gruff voice growled.

Judge Grant was a tall, thin man, a ring of gray hair circling his head, all that was left, the rest lost to male pattern baldness. But even with his loss of hair, he was a hard looking man, his face craggy, and his eyes intent.

"Do you really want a wiretap on the Puyallup Police Department?" the Judge demanded, tapping the probable cause paperwork for the wiretap sitting on his desk.

"Yes, your Honor," Peterson nodded. "We have reason to suspect Mark Glassner has used his gas on at least the Chief of Police, if not the entire Department."

The Judge's face paled. He sank back down. "Do you have any proof?"

"Just our gut, your Honor," I said. "But we spoke with Chief Hayworth last night, and he was very dismissive of Mark. He didn't seem to think it was appropriate to spend resources hunting the man down. The chief claimed all Mark was guilty of was some petty larceny."

The Judge drummed his fingers. "How does this Mark do it? Control people?"

"Gas," I shrugged. "That's the best guess."

"But our chemist can't figure it out," Peterson grumbled. "Whatever he uses, it breaks down fast and doesn't leave a trace. But what else could cause it? Magic?"

The Judge didn't laugh.

"It doesn't matter how he does it," I said. "It just matters that he is committing serious crimes. There are eyewitness reports of one Puyallup Police Officer aiding Mark in his crime of shoplifting, kidnapping, and sexual assault. A young woman kidnapped from Seattle was spotted with Mark at this incident yesterday. And with the Chief's lack of concern, I'd say there is a pattern that warrants probable cause for a wiretap."

The Judge leaned back. "Agreed. I'll approve it for all the Department's communication lines, and Chief Hayworth's home and cell."

"Thank you, your Honor," Peterson smiled.

Samantha "Antsy" Glassner -- Tacoma, WA

"It's a waste of money to go to Florida," my dad grumbled, cracking open another beer. It wasn't even eight AM, and he was already drunk. "Save your money so you can move out."

"I'm not paying for the trip, Dad," I sighed. If I could move out, I would. But that would mean leaving Mom all alone with my asshole dad. "Remember, Donna's paying."

"Right," he muttered, turning his attention back to the TV. Drink beer and watch TV, that's all he did.

That and hit Mom.

"Come on, Antsy," Mom said, walking out of the back room carrying my suitcase.

Dad gave me the nickname Antsy when I was a kid. I used to squirm all the time. I could never sit still. So Dad kept saying I had ants in my pants. And it just kinda stuck. Everyone in the family called me Antsy now.

Mom had a beautiful smile on her heart-shaped face. We looked a lot alike, and it was comforting knowing I would still have it in twenty years. Her hair was a rich brown, which was our major difference. I inherited Dad's black hair.

Mom blinked when she saw what I was wearing.

"What?" I asked, arching my eyebrows as she disapproved.

I wore my tightest pair of jeans shorts, my thong visible as the shorts hung low on my hips. The back pockets had hearts drawn on them, guaranteed to make guys stare at my bubbly ass. I wore a leather-print belly shirt so I could show off my flat stomach, a gold chain encircling my belly, a charm dangling down to the front of my jeans.

I looked hot.

Mom did not approve. But she was real uptight. She went to church all the time. And if if wasn't church, it was some ministry her ladies group from church ran. She often went with Betty, the Black girl that lived up the street. Betty would often pick up mom, the pair spending hours out of the house at one church function or another.

I didn't blame Mom for wanting to get away from Dad. I tried to get her to leave him a few times, but she wouldn't hear none of that. She was too Christian, believing in the whole death do us part.

"Well, you are a grown woman," Mom muttered, shaking her head. "You can dress how you want. It's your own business."

"Yep," Dad said, his eyes lingering on me. I shuddered. He never touched me, but sometimes I wondered if he wanted to.

"Let's go, Mom. I don't want to miss my flight."

I was off to Miami for the week. Sun, surf, and hot guys. I couldn't wait. Donna and I were going to get into so much trouble. It was the perfect way to celebrate the end of another year at college. And to get away from the shitstorm my brother was causing.

Mom and I walked out to the car. None of the news crews were around. They sometimes popped up to try and interview one of us. It was so wild thinking my older brother was a terrorist. Mark had always been a fuck-up. He was almost like Dad, but he never hit anyone.

And now he's raping women and robbing banks.

Of course, I knew a few girls that thought Mark was so amazing. They were all just begging to be dominated like one of the women that blathered on the news, singing my brothers praise after he raped them or whatever he did.

Mom put my suitcase in the trunk of the car and we were off. I glanced at her as she drove to the freeway. "Have you heard from Mark?"

"Only that one time I called him," she admitted. "I'm afraid if I call him again, the FBI will find him."

"You think he's innocent?" I asked.

"Of course. Your brother's no terrorist. I don't know what he's doing, but he can't be doing the things the news and police say he's doing."

"And the women who all talk about him...doing things with them."

Mom's cheeks grew red. "Well, they all say they wanted it. So it can't be Ra*e. Just fornication, which is a sin, but not a crime."

I shook my head. "I don't get how he does it. He's such a fuck-up. Where did he discover a mind control gas?"

"Your brother has always had potential. It's just..." She closed her mouth.

"Dad beat it out of him?" I muttered.

"I guess." Mom shifted in her seat, her lips tightening. Mom didn't like to talk about Dad and how abusive he was. She was in denial or something.

"This mess isn't stressing you out?" I asked. "I know it's annoying the fu...fudge out of me. All my friends pester me about Mark."

"A little," she admitted. "But Betty's been very supportive."

I shook my head. Betty was only a few years older than me. She went to school with Mark. My brother even had a crush on her once. It was so weird that my mom and her were friends. I mean, I guess she's an adult, but Mom has friends her own age.

"Well, I'm glad Betty's helping you out."

Mom smiled. "Yep. She's been relieving a lot of my stress."

"That's good. I..." My phone rang.

It was Donna.

"Oh, hey," I said. "I'm on my way to the airport."

"Antsy," Donna said. "Listen, something's come up."

My stomach fell. "The trip's off?" I hated saying those words.

"For me. But you can still go. I mean, it's all paid for. But a family things come up."

"Okay," I muttered, scrunching my face.

"I'm really sorry."

"Yeah, okay."

"Have enough fun for me as well," she laughed. "You'll have to tell me all about it."

"I don't have to go," I said, guilt nibbling at my stomach.

"No. You have to," Donna adamantly said. "You need to get out of town. Get away from your fucked-up brother. You need the break. It's only going to get worse. When the catch him and try him, it'll be a media circus for years."

"Fine. I'll go."

"Good." I could almost see her smiling. "I didn't think it would take much arm twisting."

"Well, it is a free trip to Miami," I giggled, then stopped, remembering she wasn't going.

"Okay, I got to go. Take care and get laid by some stud on the beach."

My cheeks reddened. I hoped Mom didn't hear that. "I will. Bye."

Mom looked at me with a questioning raise of her eyebrows.

"Look like I'm going to Miami alone."

Operator: KIRO 7 News tipline. This call is being recorded. If you would like to make your statement off the record, please say so.

Caller: My name is Matilda Cranston, and I just saw that disgusting man jogged by naked again. This can be on the damn record.

O: Which naked man, ma'am? And where did you see him?

C: That Mark Glassner terrorist. Yesterday, I saw him jogging by and called the cops. And I did it again today. I saw the cop let that terrible man go.

O: And where was this at, ma'am?

C: Oh, yes. On Shaw Road in South Hill, a few blocks west of 23rd Avenue. You need to get that spunky reporter. What's her name...Jessica. Get Jessica on the case. She'll get the damn cops to do their damn jobs.

--Transcript of the KIRO 7 News tipline, June 11th, 2013

Mary Sullivan -- South Hill, WA

Mark disappeared down the road, jogging naked with the hot wife from across the street. Maybe I should join him.

Then I remembered how much I hated jogging.

"Good morning, mi Reina," Desiree smiled. "Would you like some breakfast?"
​