Incest/Taboo The Devil's Pact

None could look away from their screens as they watched the Miracle unfold.

--First Book of Vivian 14:10

Wednesday, June 26th, 2013 - Doug Allard - Jebel al-Lawz, Saudi Arabia

The desert sky was clear and beautiful. Stars wheeled over the top of the mountain. The true Mount Sinai, called Jebel al-Lawz by the local Saudis. A barrier surrounded the mountain, my wife, and me from the world. From the coming darkness. It would hide us, separating our reality from any who were not chosen to enter. We were the guardians of the original copy of the Magicks of the Witch of Endor, an ancient book that contained the hope of mankind. The other copies lacked that hope. If the darkness prevailed, it would rescue mankind.

But that wouldn't be for forty years.

It was a long time to wait in the wilderness. But we were provided for. When we woke up at dawn, we found manna around us; the pale, delicious bread, which tasted of honey and milk, was hearty and sustaining. We had eaten it the two full days we were here, and I had never felt healthier. And the angels provided for us not only with food, but other comforts. We had a generator that didn't seem to need any fuel, a satellite dish aimed to the sky, a TV, and a tent with a proper bed and furniture.

I walked into the tent. It was a large space, with a comfortable mattress and clean sheets for us to sleep on. The TV was on, showing the local station back home. It looked like Q13 Fox playing one of the daytime soaps my wife always loved.

She sat at the small desk, half watching TV, half typing at my laptop she brought with her. She looked so beautiful. We both had received the Gift, making me a Monk and her a Nun. It aged us back to eighteen and gave us fit, perfect bodies.

And she was fit. I admired the naked profile of her firm breast.

We had made love many times since arriving, exploring each other's new bodies, loving each other in our solitude. There wasn't too much else to do, though Tina was working on accumulating a collection of ebooks, downloading every free one she could off the major ebook stores and sending them to our smart phones.

We could download books on our smart phones but not make calls. No cell coverage. Which was weird since we had internet.

"Hey, honey," I said, brushing back her brown hair to kiss her shoulder. "What're you working on?"

"Your notes. Everything we know about Mark. We should record it all. Who he and his women are. When this is all over, people will need to know the truth about him."

"Planning on writing a book?" I joked.

"Maybe."

I kissed her neck again. "It's late."

"Not back in the States."

"Well, it's later here and," I kissed her shoulder, my hand sliding down her bare arms, "you are so beautiful."

She smiled and groaned, arching her neck, inviting me. "You're like a horny teenager, Doug."

"Well, I look like one. And so do you. Let's embrace it." My hands swept around to squeeze her naked tits. They were so round and firm and perky. No sag. Just perfect. I squeezed.

"We interrupt your programming to bring you a breaking news," came from the TV. I glanced at the screen to see a well-dressed, young man sitting at an anchor desk. "Gunshots have erupted in the quite suburb of South Hill, WA. We go now live to Debra Horne-Dannell on the scene."

"South Hill," said my wife, perking up.

"Mark?" I asked, staring at the TV, my hardon forgotten.

The shot changed and I blinked. The female reporter stood before her camera, ready to report while in the background I spotted Mark Glassner's house. There was movement, one of his scantily clad bodyguards rushing by, her tits almost falling out.

Debra reported, "While collecting footage for an upcoming story on the philanthropist Mark Glassner"--my wife growled in disgust--"a woman, who appeared to know Mark and his fiancee Mary, arrived. While speaking to Mark and Mary, this woman drew a gun and shot him. Even now, Mark's lovers and bodyguards are trying to save him as 911 races to the scene."

"Wow," I blinked. The camera panned to show Mark lying on his back, his chest covered in blood, Mary kneeling over him, holding his wounds. Chasity, Mark's blonde sex slave and chief of his bodyguard, stood behind Mary speaking into a Nextel. Thamina, Mark's slut who was also a nurse, arrived and began working on Mark.

"Do you know the motivation of the shooter?" the anchor asked.

"We don't know at this time, but Mark's security shot her moments after she shot him. It's quite a mess here. His devoted lovers watch stunned while Mary..." Debra trailed off. She glanced up the residential and asked, "Is that gunfire?"

The cameraman panned down the street in time to catch three SWAT vans rounding the bend. Mark's bodyguards flooded out of the houses along the street. There were more bodyguards now than when I spied on Mark a week back. They drew weapons, firing at the vans. The reporter screamed in fear, diving for cover while her cameraman knelt to capture the action.

My wife squeezed my hand as the back of the first SWAT van burst open and several heavily armed police officers stepped out with MP5s, opening fire on Mark's bodyguard. Shooting Mark was, apparently, the opening volley to a coordinated attack.

"We might not have to hide here," I said.

"There, that's a nun," gasped my wife. "Blonde hair. I saw it in your notes. That must be the nun who went after Mark using his sister Antsy."

"Sister Theodore Mariam." One of the last things I had recorded. My wife had manage to salvage my notes backed up in the cloud through Dropbox. I thought I deleted the files--Mark's orders--but the storage service undeleted them for my wife. She lied and said someone hacked my computer and maliciously deleted them.

Clever of her.

"They're going to beat him," my wife said, a huge smile on her face.

But it didn't turn out the way we hoped. Mark's bodyguards repelled the attack. Mark was still wounded, but Mary was taken by the nun. It was strange that the nun did it. There was a moment when Sister Theodore seemed about to execute Mary, but instead she ordered the SWAT Officer to seize Mary. They fled the scene in the back of the SWAT van.

"She must be taking Mary to exorcise her in safety," Tina whispered, staring at the TV.

"But Mark is still shot and dying. Let him die, Lord, and let this all be over with."

Noel Heinrich - Tacoma, WA

My heart pounded in my chest as I raced out of the Federal Building in downtown Tacoma. I sprinted across the plaza to my parked car, gripping the Nextel in my hand. Since last week when I was exposed as Master's spy to the FBI, I was free to monitor the radio network the bodyguards used. I was second-in-command of Master's security, underneath Chasity, when I wasn't at work at the FBI.

All my FBI colleagues were under Master's power and they all maintained the lie to suits back in Washington DC I was working deep undercover to investigate Mark Glassner. So deep I was dedicated to fucking and sucking him. Of course, I just did that because I was a slut. One of Master's sluts.

And now he was in trouble.

He had been shot.

"22 to Chastity, we have unusual activity at the entrance," came over the Nextel as I reached my government-issued sedan. I pulled my keys from my pocket, fearing what new catastrophe would befall Master and Mistress.

"What, 22?" Chasity, the woman I loved and leader of the bodyguards, responded.

"We have three SWAT vans incoming."

Three SWAT vans? Already? Master had been shot only a few minutes ago. How could a SWAT unit deploy so fast? My stomach twisted. I was about to warn Chasity when she blurted over the radio: "Chastity to all units, we are under attack!"

"No, no, no." I jammed my key into the car's lock, twisted, and ripped open the door. I threw myself into the drivers seat, started the car, and peeled out, flipping on my lights and sirens. I burst onto Pacific Avenue, racing for the entrance to Highway 705 at 13th Street.

The tires squealed as I made the hard right onto 13th and rushed for the on-ramp. I honked my horn as an SUV was too slow to pull over. I whipped around it then reached the on-ramp, accelerating as I shot down it.

"Chasity to all units," came over the chatter on the Nextel, "there are nuns commanding the SWAT. Aim for any women."

"Nuns," I snarled, pushing the accelerator to the floor as I hurtled towards the I-5 merger. I had to get back home as fast as possible. It must be that bitch Sister Theodora.

I winced at the chatter on the Nextel. The bodyguards were taking heavy fire. Calls for help came over the line, women injured and dying. Tears burned my eyes as I weaved in and out of traffic, pushing my car to the limit. I had to go faster and faster.

"A county wide tactical alert has been issued," came over the police radio in my sedan. "All units, proceed to Shaw Road and Mountain View Court. Suspects are posing as Pierce County SWAT officers and armed with heavy weapons. Officers in distress."

My heart tightened. "Please, please, be okay, Chasity."

I zoomed past the 56th Street exit, my palms sweaty on the wheel. 72nd Street drew closer and closer and then I was past it. I moved over, preparing to get onto Highway 512 and haul ass towards South Hill.

"They have Mistress," an excitable voice shouted on the Nextel. "Stop it."

"Trying. Where's Chasity?"

"She's down."

My heart stopped. Horror seized me. I glanced at the Nextel.

"Chasity's down. I think she's dead. She tried to stop them from grabbing Mistress. I can't find a pulse on her."

My foot slipped off the accelerator as the shock crashed over me. I pulled over onto the freeway's shoulder. She couldn't be dead. Not after last night. We loved each other last night. I came so close to blurting out my true feelings to her. Why hadn't I told her I loved her? What had stopped me?

Tears destroyed my vision. My entire body shook. I clutched the steering wheel and banged my head against the horn. It honked as I sobbed and sobbed. I had my chance to tell her I loved her and I didn't.

Why?

It wasn't fair. She was so beautiful. So young. She couldn't be dead.

"Where's the ambulance," someone shouted. "Master's fading!"

Chantelle Paquet-Holub - Seattle, WA

"Oh, this is amazing," my wife Lana shouted as she engulfed me in a hug. My busty bride spun me around, holding me tight. "He's dying. He is dying. They came for him and shot him."

"And took Mary," Crystal added. She was our host's daughter, eighteen and sworn to worship Lilith along with the rest of her mother's coven. Babylon was at work, but I knew she would be equally happy if she was here.

"Oh, Lilith, he's dying," I said, tears staining my eyes. "The bastard is dying."

Still holding my wife, I turned to the TV. The reporter, her face stained with tears, crawled out of hiding. The SWAT van was gone, the battle over. Mark still lay on his back dying. One of his sluts holding an IV bag while she worked on him. Other women lay dead or dying on the ground.

"It looks like it's over," a shaken Debra said. "I... I..."

"Are you okay?" the male anchor asked.

"I am," Debra nodded. The reporter took a deep breath. "But others aren't. The attackers were dressed like Pierce County SWAT, but no SWAT unit would be so reckless to attack Mark Glassner. He's a great philanthropist. And his lovers are working hard to keep him alive. I can hear sirens in the distance. I hope it is actual police and ambulance instead of those criminals."

"Oh, let it be more of those criminals," chortled Crystal. "He tried to enslave our goddess."

"And us," I growled, remembering my deluded time as Mark and Mary's "slut." I hoped he died and rotted in hell.

An ambulance came around the corner. A faint tinge of disappointment soured my excitement. No, an ambulance didn't mean he would live. There was so much blood around him. He could still die. I held my wife and waited for the good news. Prayed for the good news.

With Mark dead, Lilith would have an even easier time dominating the world.

Brandon Fitzsimmons - Madison, WI

"Breaking news out of Washington State," came in as I watched CNN. I was killing time in my hotel room before I went to see Professor Scrivner at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. "There are reports that shots have been fired at the house of the infamous Mark Glassner."

I perked up, my hands tightening on my copy of the Magicks of the Witch of Endor.

"Q13 Fox is reporting that Mark Glassner was shot. We're going live to Debra Horne-Dannell reporting on the scene."

I glanced down at the book as images of the dying Mark appeared on the screen. My fingers drummed on the leather binding. If Mark died, did I even need the book? Did I even have to kill the Altgrave?

Yes, I needed the book.

If what I believed was in the book, then it would give me such power. And that was worth killing a dozen Altgrave. A hundred.

Part of me hoped Mark would live. Then I could have the pleasure of defeating him myself and reclaiming my precious Desiree. I caught a glimpse of my wife on screen, clutching Alison, both crying as they stared down at the man who controlled their minds.

"Either way, you'll be mine again," I promised my wife. Whether from Mark's death or Professor Scrivner's translation of the book.

Lucifer - The Abyss

I watched from the Shadows, the highest level of the Abyss as Mark Glassner died. The angels were such fools. They played right into my hand. My subtle manipulation of fate tricked Gabriel into believing this reckless plan of attacking Mark would work.

But it was my plan my brother archangel followed. Heaven worked for me today. I loved the irony.

Mark's soul left his body, dragged down by the red chain and pulled into the top level of the Abyss. He wasn't dead, yet, but close. That chain connected Mark to me, the embodiment of his Pact when he sold his soul.

But it wouldn't be long until Mark was dead and his soul mine, roasting for eternity with all the other fools who thought to bargain with me.

But that wasn't part of the plan. I smiled as Mark's soul was intercepted. Hovering between life and death was a powerful place to be. Here Mark's soul could be interceded upon by an angel or demon. And that intercession was happening right on schedule. All these years of plotting, planning, would soon pay off.

All my pawns were in place.

Mark Glassner

"You can still see her, Mark," said the woman's voice floating out of the darkness around me. "You are not dead, yet."

"Who's there?" I shouted into the darkness. Then I realized I was no longer falling. Feminine hands grasped my shoulders, long fingernails biting into my collar bone. I spun around and gasped. "Lilith?"

She floated in the darkness as stunningly beautiful as always. Her silvery hair fanned out about her body, waving lazily about her lush form. Her violet eyes sparkled with contempt. She was clad in her scarlet dress, so sheer I could see all of her generous charms. Lust stirred inside me and I fought it down.

I would need a clear head to deal with Lilith.

"Here to taunt me?" I asked. "To gloat as I die?

A smile played on her lips. "As satisfying as that would be, we have one last piece of business to discuss."

"Not interested," I shrugged. I learned my lesson dealing with Lilith. I knew she hated me. When Mary made their last bargain, Lilith had tried to trick my fiancee into betraying me.

"Even if it would save your life?" Her smile broadened. "And your precious Mary's life?"

I paused. I didn't want to die. And I didn't want to drag Mary down with me. I had wished for a long life and Mary had wished to live as long as me. "What is your deal?"

"I want Karen."

"You mean, you want the thing growing inside her." Karen was weak, most of the time unconscious. She was cared for at Good Sam Hospital, a child growing eight times faster than normal in her belly. Mary and I made a pact with Lilith, letting the demon fuck Karen with a hermaphroditic cock in exchange for knowledge of magic. A pact that led us to gaining the Magics of the Witch of Endor.

I thought Lilith was just horny and wanted to fuck Karen. I had since learned demons only made Pacts for their own benefit even if it seemed like yours.

Her eyes tightened and she pursed her lips. "Yes. I want Karen, and my child. She will be mine until she gives birth. Then I'll return her to you."

I squinted. "Why? Once I'm dead, how can I stop you from having her? What game are you playing at, Lilith?"

"You bonded her with the Zimmah ritual. Did you forget what I told you?" Her eyes narrowed in disgust. "Did you forget that when you die all those bound to you will die, too, their souls carried down into the Abyss? You have chained them to you for eternity. And I can't have Karen dying before she gives birth. That would spoil all of my plans."

My heart froze. Not just Mary would die with me? Our sluts and our families. My mom, my little sister, Mary's sisters and her father. All would die with me. Lilith had me by the balls. I could see it in her smile.

Fucking demons.

"So, in exchange for me loaning you Karen until your child is born, you will return me to the health I had before Alice shot me," I said carefully. I couldn't let my emotions lead me to make a bad deal. I had to make sure I benefited even if Lilith did. "And you will return Karen to me unharmed?"

"I will do nothing to harm Karen," Lilith promised.

I frowned. I couldn't see any loopholes. I was sure they were there, but I really had nothing left to lose. "Then we have a deal, Lilith."

She smiled a predatory, triumphant smile. "I grant your boon, Mark Glassner," her words purred through the darkness and suddenly I was filled with pain and...

Sister Theodora Mariam - South Hill, WA

My hands shook as the adrenaline bled out of me. But the images of the dead and dying would not leave my mind. Oh, God, so many dead, I prayed in the back of the SWAT van. Forgive me, Lord.

"Why are you crying, Mother?" my daughter spat at me with such venom in her voice. Her bile was a dagger in my heart. "What do you have to cry about, Mother? Is it your loved ones dead and dying? Your fiance?"

I looked sadly at my middle daughter--Mary. She sat bound in the corner of the SWAT van. Her eyes were puffy from crying and burned a deep green with hatred. Blood matted the front of her clothing. Probably Mark's blood. I did not see any wounds on her. The stained-scarlet aura of a Warlock surrounded her.

My own daughter sold her soul to the Adversary, and I was sent to defeat her. To kill her.

"Because all that blood is on my hands." I whispered my answer. "That is why I am crying, Mary."

Mary gave a shrill, almost hysterical laugh. "You fucking nuns are such hypocrites. Karen was just as sorry after she nearly killed Desiree. Did you ever think what would happen if you attacked us? Christ, Mother, your soldiers had automatic fucking weapons!"

"It was the only way." I couldn't hide the sorrow from my words. I hated myself. "It was all for the greater good. We had to stop Mark and..."

"And me, Mother?" Mary snarled. Her green eyes were wild, furious. Her freckled face mottled with red. "You tried to kill Mark and your own daughter. What a great servant of God you are, Mother."

I flinched as her words whipped my soul bloody raw. I struggled to gather my thoughts, to marshal some sort of defense against her accusations. I had to assuage my guilt and wash the blood from my hands. So many dead. Thralls of Mark and my daughter, my fellow nuns, and the SWAT officers we were forced to use to attack them. It was all for the greater good. The angel Ramiel told me so. It was all for the future of the World. We could not fail. We had to succeed. Mark Glassner had to be stopped. He was a Warlock. An evil man who sold his soul and corrupted my poor daughter.

I stared at her. Mark Glassner had ruined her. The red aura shone around her. Even if I were to exorcise her, she would still fall into the Abyss for selling her soul. I would just stop her from creating more victims. But it wasn't right that I wasn't there to stop her from selling her soul. It was all Kurt's fault. He stole me from my family.

If I was there, my daughter never would have sold her soul. It was the fault of terrible men like Kurt and Mark that she was damned to an eternity of suffering.

"Mark ruined you," I whispered.

"He set me free." Her eyes were wild. "And you tried to kill him. You did something to Alice, didn't you?"

"It was for the greater good."

The SWAT van pulled onto the shoulder and stopped. I took a deep breath. We must have arrived where we stashed the getaway cars. I had cloaked the SWAT van with invisibility to get us clear of the immediate area, but it was dangerous to drive it on the road far. People could crash into us. We were lucky no one hit is in the few short blocks we drove.

Sirens blared. Already cops were swarming to the street where Mark lived. One roared past us, then a second. Mark had such power. No Warlock in my lifetime had ever accumulated so much and so swiftly. I hoped he died. Maybe with him gone, I could figure out a way to save my daughter's soul.

Dennis, the only remaining SWAT officer under my control, opened the rear doors. He didn't say a word. He wouldn't say a word unless I ordered him to. He climbed in and seized Mary.

"Get your hands off of me," she commanded. Then froze, the color draining from her face. "Oh, no."

"Yes, we used the SWAT officers your Mark put under his control."

Mary let out a screech of rage. She kicked and screamed as Dennis dragged her bound form out of the van. More sirens blared, drawing closer. My stomach clenched. If a cop saw us dragging Mary to our escape car, we would be in trouble.

"Faster," I commanded Dennis as I hoped out the back of the invisible van.

"Help, help!" Mary shouted. "If anyone can hear me, save me. Attack them. Free me."

My daughter also had Mark's power of domination. But none heard her as Dennis manhandled her quickly to one of several cars we parked here earlier today. Dennis dragged her to a silver Jeep Cherokee and threw her in the back seat.

I slid in beside my daughter as another cop car streaked by. I held my breath, watching the cop car, fearing he would stop. He didn't. Providence was still looking out for me. I would complete my mission and stop the Warlocks.

"Let me go, Mother. We weren't hurting anyone. You didn't have to shoot him. To shoot Chasity."

"Mark is evil," I told Mary, trying to justify my actions to my daughter. And to myself. "He had to be stopped at any cost."

"Like using my friend Alice and making her shoot my fiance?" Mary asked coldly. "You cast a prayer on her, didn't you, Mother?"

"Yes," I sighed, looking down at my hands.

"Oh, so there's another innocent person whose blood is on your hands, then, Mother. I'm sure you saw her bleeding to death when you captured me." Mary paused, her lip curling in contempt. "She was Shannon's best friend growing up, remember? Do you remember when we were a family? Do you remember that Alice used to sleep over at the house with Shannon, and you would make them cookies to eat? Oh, but that was before you turned into a whore and abandoned us!"

The pain of Mary's words threatened to crush me as memories of a sweet, black-haired girl playing with Shannon flooded my mind. Tears burned in my eyes. Oh, God, what have I done? I looked down at my hands. They were surprisingly clean for hands so stained with blood. Alice. Isabella and Agnes. The blonde Thrall who spent her last breath trying to protect my daughter. From her own mother.

I should have been the one to protect Mary. I should have been there for her.

"Why couldn't you just leave us alone?" Mary asked bitterly.

"What you do is evil," I said, feeling my anger replace my guilt. I took a deep breath. "You control people, Mary. You and Mark make them your slaves and steal their free will. You destroyed their lives before I ever showed up. All those SWAT officers had relationships. Marriages broken and destroyed by what you and Mark made them do when they raided your house."

"We didn't kill them," Mary spat back. "You say we destroy lives? Who was it that took control of those men and led them into a killing field? Really good act there, Mother."

"It was for the greater good," I repeated, my guilt coming back.

"Really? Greater good? Who attacked whom, Mother? You're just as bad as we are. No, you're worse. We don't kill people. We make them happy. But you... You killed Chasity." Mary's eyes brimmed with tears. "She was a sweet, loving woman who threw herself on me to protect me, Mother, and your soldiers gunned her down. You tried to kill your own daughter, Mother. Such a good act."

"I didn't know you were the other Warlock," I protested. "I never thought in a million years my own daughter would..."

"Would be a Warlock?" Mary sneered. "Better than the whore who runs out on her family." Mary gave a bitter laugh. "Mark is bleeding to death. It won't be long until I'm out of your life, Mother. Than your mission will be complete."

My forehead furrowed in confusion. "What? What are you talking about, Mary? I'm not going to kill you. You're my daughter."

"My Pact," Mary whispered. "Mark wished for a long life when he made his. So when I made my Pact, I wished to be young and healthy for as long as Mark lives. When he dies, I die." She sniffed, and a small smile appeared on her lips. "We will be together for eternity."

"I'll exorcise you," I said, fear squeezing my heart. I could not be responsible for my own daughter's death. That guilt would destroy me. "Then your wish won't matter. You'll live past him."

"No!" Her shout surprised me. "Let me be with him. With Mark dead and my powers broken, only prison will remain for me. A life without him. I love him, Mother."

"How can you love him, Mary?" I asked her. "Where does this devotion come from? He's a monster. I know what a male Warlock does to his Thralls. I've seen the news reports and heard about the orgies. He uses them."

"He loves them," Mary countered. "Mark never hurts them. We both love them. Mark's a good man, deep inside. The power he has is just too intoxicating sometimes. No one can resist it fully." Mary shuddered. "I know I tried to fight it, but it is so hot to transgress morality. But that's not why I love him. You want to know why I love him, Mother?"

I nodded my head.

"Because he has a caring soul. Because he loved me so much he set me free from his powers. I was his Thrall for a day. He made a mistake after he got his powers. But he loved me so much, he risked losing me when he could have held onto me." A smile crossed her lips. "And I love him because I know if I asked it of him, he would give up his powers. He would get rid of his thralls and the kinky sex just to make me happy."

I laughed. "No Warlock has ever given up their powers. Not voluntarily."

"Mark would for me," Mary insisted.

"I know Warlocks far too well, Mary." I shook my head. The poor girl was besotted with Mark. She was young, only twenty. She hadn't learned about the lies a man would tell a woman in bed. I learned that lesson before I met Sean. He was a good man "They all are selfish beasts. Men. They lie to make a pretty girl spread her legs."

Mary snorted. "You swoop in, exorcise a Warlock, and then head back to whatever convent you nuns wait at. What do you really know about us? You speak like we're evil monsters and not just people with too much power."

"For six months, I was a Thrall to a Warlock."

Mary blinked in shock.

Tears trickled down my cheeks as I told my daughter what happened on March 15th, 1998, and the terrible nightmare that followed.

Host: For those watching the indie music scene, a new garage band is tearing up the clubs of Seattle and Portland. Satan's Silvered Tongue has exploded onto the scene in just the last few weeks.

--Excerpt from MTV broadcast, April 2nd, 1998

Fifteen Years Ago - Tiffany Sullivan - Parkland, WA

"Look what I made at school, Mommy," Mary said. She bounded to the door when I walked into the house after returning from work, a huge smile on her face.

"What?" I asked

She bounced on her feet dressed in a cute, plaid jumper and held up a clay tablet with her handprint in the center. "I made it for you and Daddy." Mary had just turned five, her auburn hair in two pigtails and her green eyes shining with happiness.

I smiled and took it from her. "It's very pretty. Thank you, Mary. Let's go show Daddy."

Mary took my hand in hers and pulled me to the living room where Sean sat. I smiled at my husband. He had loosened the top few buttons of his shirt as he graded papers. A community college teacher's work was never quite done.

Except during the summer.

"Daddy!" Mary shouted excitedly and jumped up on Sean's lap, scattering his papers as she held up what she made in kindergarten today. She bounced on his lap, her pigtails swaying

"That's so pretty, Mary," Sean praised. He was a great father, and I smiled fondly at him. I never once regretted marrying the man, even when we fought.

"Momma," Melissa giggled as she stomped across the floor in a pink smock. I scooped up my three-year-old daughter, her hair a messy mop of strawberry-blonde. "You're home, Momma."

"I am," I told her, giving her a smile. "And how's my big girl doing?"

"Fine." Then she gave me a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Have you seen Shannon?" I asked Sean, looking around the living room.

"She's at Alice's house," Sean answered, smiling at me. He had amazing green eyes and still kept his hair long like when we first started dating in college, tied back in a bright, red ponytail. The very image of the cool, laid-back teacher.

"Can you take Melissa so I can start dinner?" I asked, kissing Melissa's cute face before handing her to my husband.

"Sure, Tiffany," Sean smiled, taking Melissa from me. Sean's hand brushed mine, and he rubbed it just a little longer than necessary.

I smiled--it was the little things that kept a marriage going.

I headed for the kitchen, trailed by Mary. I pulled on my plain, white apron and Mary pulled on her pink frilly apron. "Are you going to help mommy?" I asked her.

Mary nodded, a serious expression on her face. I thought it was cute, so I gave her some simple instructions and we started gathering the ingredients for dinner. That was when I discovered we were out of milk.

I sighed and popped my head back into the living room. "Did you forget to swing by the store, Sean?"

He flushed. "Sorry, Tif," he said. "I'll go right away."

I shook my head. I loved my husband, but he was so forgetful. "No, no, I'll walk over to the Coopers and borrow some milk from them."

I grabbed a measuring cup and walked outside. The sun was setting, shining brightly on me as a drizzle of rain fell on my face. Weather in March was so unpredictable in Western Washington. It can go from sun to rain to snow to hail and back to sun all in a twenty minute period of time. And around sunset, you would often get rain and sun at the same time. So I headed back inside to grab my jacket.

The drizzle stopped by the time I reached the sidewalk. I shook my head at the weather, glancing up at the patches of dark, gray clouds floating overhead. I walked down Violet Meadows, admiring a beautiful rainbow as I headed to the Coopers.

The screeching music of an electric guitar and the banging of loud drums across the street drew my attention. The Bronson boy and his band were practicing in his garage. They weren't that good at playing rock, but I liked to encourage Kurt. He was a nice boy despite that absurd mohawk and lip piercing. He was always around the house, asking if he could do any chores to make some money. So I let him clean the gutters or mow the lawn for a some money.

Sean would grouse, "I can mow the lawn, Tif," or, "I'm perfectly capable of cleaning the gutters." Well, if I waited for Sean to get around to mowing the lawn on his own, we would have waist-high grass. And I so hated being a nag.

But today there was something different about the music. A beat that just seemed to flow into me, pulsing through my soul. They sounded good today. No, great. The screeching transformed in my mind to powerful, amazing music. Their practice was starting to pay off.

Before I even realized what was happening, I was crossing the street. It was hard to think about anything other than the music. I walked up the driveway and stood at the entrance to the garage. I had never heard music so amazing before. It was a primal beat that pounded through my body, hardening my nipples.

I squirmed my hips, growing aroused. What was this music? I felt like teenager, my hormones bursting out of control, anything setting me off and making me feel wet and wild.

Kurt was amazing.

There were four members of Kurt's band. Kurt himself looked so powerful, so manly, with his mohawk and piercings and ragged jean jacket. He wasn't his usually scrawny, eighteen-year-old self. He had transformed in my eyes into a virile man.

His eyes found mine as he thrashed his guitar, the music screeching through my body. My knees felt week from his powerful gaze. I licked my lips as he stared hungrily at me. My nipples ached in my bra and my pussy soaked through my panties.

What a sexy hunk. I wanted to fuck him so badly. I wanted to do anything for this man. This wild rocker.

Kurt was lead guitar and vocalist. He sang into the microphone. His words spoke directly to me. He wanted me. I wanted him.

Next to him stood Tor, playing rhythm guitar. He had long, brown hair and ears covered in piercings. They glinted as he rocked. Pat was the bassist and backup-vocalist, his black hair gelled conical spikes, his foot stomping in heavy boots as his fingers danced on the strings. Bones played drums, a big man with a shaved head, his sticks flying, providing the beat that made me so wet.

And then for reasons I couldn't understand, I reached under my skirt and pulled my panties down. Kurt smiled as I held them up, the crotch stained with my juices. I threw them at Kurt like a groupie at a rock concert.

The music spoke to me and it felt so right to do this. I was their number-one fan.

The air was cool on my drenched pussy and more juices leaked out as Kurt stopped playing to snatch up my panties. He brought them to his nose and inhaled my scent. I groaned, a powerful wave of heat flushing through me. He licked the crotch then held them up like a trophy.

"What did I tell you," Kurt boasted. "Stick with me, boys, and we'll be famous and have more poon then you can shake a stick at."

The other members of his band smiled like a bunch of pleased little boys staring at their first playboy.

They started up another song and the musical was so primal that my body responded to it. My heart was hammering, my nipples ached so hard in my bra, and my poor little pussy itched to be fucked. If Sean was here, I would jump his bones right then and there, not caring who watched.

I had never been so horny in my life.

I was looking at the young men, barely more than boys, playing before me. Kurt was such a hot stud. How had I never seen how sexy his mohawk was or how hot his lip piercings were? How had this young man never turned me on? I was an idiot for never noticing him.

He was the sexiest man in the world.

Thoughts of Kurt on top of me flashed through my mind. He would take me, make me his woman, fuck me hard on stage. I would do anything. No act was too wild. I would let him fuck my ass. I would suck his cock and drink his cum. I would let him use me.

I wanted him to use me. I wanted to be his groupie slut. He was amazing. His music transformed me.

"Wow, they are amazing," Grace Copper gasped in awe.

"Grace," I gasped as I jumped in shock. I hadn't realized she stood next to me.

Grace was a beautiful woman with long, honey-brown hair. We were close friends. Sometimes I would babysit her three-year-old, Dawn, a cute, little blonde girl. I enjoyed watching Dawn and Missy play together.

I grinned when Grace's fingers went to the waistband of her pants. Like me, the music affected her. She had to throw her panties on stage. She peeled her pants down and kicked off her shoes to take off her panties. She whipped off her plain, boring panties, exposing a neatly trimmed, brown bush and a nice ass.

She tossed her panties at Kurt, cheering with me.

Then the music stopped as all the boys stared at Grace's nudity. She suddenly flushed, realizing what she did and reached for her jeans with one hand, trying to cover her sex with the other hand. I blinked myself, shaking my head. The music was gone and I could think again.

I had thrown my panties on stage?

"Wait," Kurt said. "From now on, you lovely ladies will be our groupies."

That was a such a great idea. It made perfect sense. Kurt was an amazing rock star. I was thrilled he wanted a married mother of three to be his groupie. I glanced at Grace, and she seemed to agree with me, a huge smile on her face.

"Sure, Kurt," I answered.

"So get in here," Kurt said, unslinging his guitar and setting it carelessly on the garage floor.

I couldn't resist his commands. I headed into the garage, my pussy on fire beneath my skirt. Kurt grabbed me and kissed me hard. I blinked in shock. What was I doing? My excitement grew less and less without the music. I was married. I loved my husband.

But I was his groupie.

But did that mean I had to kiss? I just had to be his fan.

I squirmed in his arm. I had to pull away. I couldn't cheat on Sean. What was wrong with me? Why did the music affect me so badly? Why did it turn me on? Why did I throw my panties into the garage? I broke the kiss.

"Kurt," I gasped, trying to break free of his hug. He grabbed my ass, pulling me tight against me. "You have to stop."

"Why, Mrs. Sullivan?" he asked. "You're my groupie. Groupies are supposed to fuck the band, right?"

It crystallized in my mind. Everything made sense. I had heard stories about the girls who went backstage at concerts to be groupies. Everyone knows the band fucked them all, gangbanged them. And that was what I was now. A groupie. My marriage to Sean didn't matter any longer.

"Oh, yeah," I flushed in embarrassment. "Sorry. I don't know what I was thinking."

"That you're lucky I chose you," Kurt grinned. "You're lucky to be a groupie for Satan's Silvered Tongue."​