Incest/Taboo The Devil's Pact

Tracing Brandon Fitzsimmons's movements between Germany and his spectacular attack on Tacoma is difficult. He took care to hide from all, including the budding Tyrants. But we do know he was in Madison, Wisconsin in the summer of 2013. It is the only way to explain how Professor Scrivner got his hands on a copy of the Magicks of the Witch of Endor to translate it. The most infamous Warlock to arise from his leaked translation was the Ghost of Paris.

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

Wednesday, June 26th, 2013 - Brandon Fitzsimmons - Madison, WI

"What can I do for you?" Professor Scrivener asked as I knocked at his door.

"We have an appointment," I answered.

"Oh, right, the translation. Come in."

Elation surged through me. Everything was about to change. I would regain the power Mark Glassner had robbed from me when he took my wife and stole my home. I would show him that there were consequences to actions.

The nuns have failed time and time again to stop the bastard. So fuck them. It was time to take matters into my hands. Literally. I clutched the leather-bound, ornate manuscript of the Magicks of the Witch of Endor in my tight grip. It contained what I would need to equal Mark in power.

Then destroy him.

I stood in the Department of Hebrew and Semitic Studies at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. After claiming the book from the Altgrave and fleeing Germany back to the States, I did my research. I had to find someone to translate the book. And Professor Scrivener was a leading expert in the translation of ancient Semitic writings.

My free hand twisted the knob and yanked open the door. Professor Scrivener was a man in his fifties, black hair going gray, with deep, green eyes peering at me from behind horned-rim glasses. He sat at a desk in a small office cluttered with books and papers. I squeezed past the door, unable to fully open it. I squeezed my girth through, the knob digging into my gut. Once inside, I had to step over more books stacked on the floor to reach his desk.

"Is this a broom closet?" I asked.

"Something like it," the Professor snorted. "And you're...? I'm sorry. I'm terrible with names."

"Brandon Fitzsimmons," I said and reached across his desk to shake his hand. He had a strong grip, I was surprised to discover, crushing my hand as he smiled politely at me.

"What can I do for you, Brandon?" he asked, a hint of impatience wreathing him like bad cologne. He had several books spread open before him and a notepad covered in his tight script.

"This," I said and handed him the Magics of the Witch of Endor.

He took it, glancing at the cover before opening it up. "Hmm, Aramaic. Unusual given the style of binding. This is a folio from the fourteenth or fifteenth century, correct?"

"Something like that," I answered. "I acquired it recently. I can't find any translations online."

"And you want me to translate all of this?" He arched an eyebrow. "I thought this was a small document, not an entire folio. As you can see, I have my own work that needs doing."

I was prepared. "I'll pay you $300,000 to translate the book."

His jaws dropped and his eyes bugged. He spluttered, struggling to speak.

"I'll pay you $100,000 up front and the other $200,000 on completion."

"Is this a joke?" he finally managed to spit out.

I pulled out the cashiers check from the inside jacket of my suit made out for $100,000. It was the bulk of my money. I was hoping greed would blind the man from asking too many questions. I handed it over. He took it.

His hands shook as he looked at the check.

It was a gamble, using the last of my money minus the small amount to survive on for the next few weeks. But if the book contained what I hoped it would, $100,000 would be a pittance. And once he finished translating the book, well, I could find a different way to reward him.

"Jesus, Mary, Mother of Christ," he said, licking his lips. "This is too much."

"It's not." I told him. "Not for this. It is important to me. I need it as soon as possible. Drop all your other work. I will call once a week to check on your progress. And no questions, okay?"

He licked his lips, nervous, then glanced down at the check. I could see the questions whirling in his mind, the doubts and whispers of caution. But there was that glint of avarice in his eyes as he kept glancing at the check. He wiped his damp palm on the leg of his brown slacks. Sweat was beading on his forehead. He glanced up at me, staring at me intently, his green eyes peering into my brown eyes. His hand shook as he folded up the check and slipped it into his pocket.

"Okay. We have a deal, Brandon."

I pulled out my briefcase, opening it. I produced a contract I had typed up. "This is an NDA. You will show the book and the translation to no one else but me. I need complete discretion on your part. Understand?"

"Yeah," he nodded, staring at the check again, disbelief in his eyes. I doubt he made that much in a year. I could see his eyes moving as his brain worked through it. "Yeah, yeah, of course."

He grabbed a pen and hurried to sign it, like he was afraid he would either chicken out or this would all be revealed to be a bad joke. It was like he thought I was from one of those prank shows, his eyes flicking around the room looking for the hidden cameras. He scrawled his signature across the bottom and dated it. Then I signed.

"Done," I smiled, nodding my head.

Soon, I would have the power and Mark Glassner would pay for stealing my wife and turning her into a whore.

Mary would look amazing kneeling before me and sucking my cock.

Alison Hertz - South Hill, WA

"Chasity is dead because that asshole dominated her and put her in this situation," Noel screamed at Lillian. "How the fuck can you say they're not evil?"

It was chaos in the house. I couldn't believe it. Master and Mistress were setting us free? They had somehow dominated us. Made us their slaves. I looked at the faces of the other sluts. Some were already leaving, shaken by the events. Master and Mistress told us we had until noon tomorrow to make our decision if we wanted to stay as their sex slaves or be free. And then they left.

Everything had gone wrong today.

"Fucking nuns," I muttered.

Why did they have to attack us? Master almost died. It was a miracle that he came back to life. And now the other sluts were freaking out because Master and Mistress were so powerful they could control people with their minds, which explained so much about them.

But why did it matter how we became their sluts? We just were. Everyone should be happy that they were chosen by a couple so powerful. They shouldn't be angry or crying or shocked. It was so stupid.

That's right, whispered my subconscious. You were meant to be Mark's. To be owned by him. This is what you've wanted. A man strong enough to dominate the world as your Master.

I nodded my head. "He is not evil, Noel."

But I wasn't heard over the screaming between Noel and Lillian. Why didn't the others understand? At least my Desiree would...

I caught my Latina lover's eyes across the table. She trembled, eyes wide, a pallor settled into her golden-brown face. She swallowed. She was scared. I had to do something to comfort her, to make her feel better.

No, you don't, slut. Now isn't the time to be worried about her. You have to make sure you're Mark's slave.

I ignored my subconscious. I didn't know why a part of me objected to my love for Desiree. But my feelings were real and Master and Mistress approved of them. So that was good enough for me. Desiree was in pain, and I would comfort her no matter what my subconscious thought.

Desiree de la Fuente

I caught Alison's eyes across the dining room, across all the shouting women. I stared at her, an anchor holding me in place as the turmoil of emotions battered my soul, crashing into me harder than a hurricane into the coast. One moment, I was happy, and the next...

I was horrified to discover I didn't choose to be their... slut.

With a few words, Mark and Mary caused the foundation of certainty to crumble out from beneath me, leaving me dangling over despair. I needed to clutch onto something as I processed what had happened. For the last three weeks of my life, I had been a different person, a plaything for Mark and Mary. Someone to satiate their lusts and cook them food. I had always thought of myself as a strong, independent woman, not easily cowed or swayed. I married Brandon for his money, using him while I had my fun with my female lovers.

And yet Mark gave me a command, and I begged to be his whore. I shivered in disgust.

"We should call the cops," Fiona shouted now that Noel had crumbled into more tears, grieving Chasity.

"What good would that do?" Lillian demanded. "Master controls the police. Just be a good girl and calm down. You're one of their chosen women, so I don't see what you're all worked up about?"

Fiona flushed. "Some of us aren't sluts who enjoy being degraded!"

Lillian's pale face flushed with color, and she screeched as she leapt at the strawberry-blonde Fiona. Noel grabbed Lillian and threw her back, standing between the two women. Fiona gave a snarl and then fled the room and out the front door. Thamina followed.

How could Lillian want to stay? I didn't understand. I glanced at Alison again. She was staring at me with such love and concern on her face as Noel and Lillian restarted their fight over whether Mark was evil or not. I stared into my lover's eyes, her pink hair framing her youthful face. She was so cute and sultry and intoxicating. I needed her. Right now. I spoke with my eyes.

Hers flicked up. I understood and nodded.

"He killed Chasity!" Noel shrieked.

"The nuns did, not Master," retorted Lillian. "They're the evil people."

"And dominating us, forcing us to be their sex slaves, that isn't evil? That isn't dehumanizing? Fuck, it's like he roofied us."

Alison and I slipped out of the room unnoticed. I took her hand as we headed upstairs to our bedroom. Alison opened the door, ushering me in. She closed it behind me and it hit me. I trembled, tears bubbling in my eyes.

This was my house, and I was forced to stay in the guest bedroom.

Mark and Mary stole my bedroom when they stole the house from Brandon and me. It was all too much. I swayed. I reached out for something, anything to hold me up, and found Alison's shoulders. I gripped them, my body shuddering, my vision blurring.

"Shh," Alison whispered, hugging me. "It's okay."

My heart quickened in my breast at the feel of her body against mine, the comfort of her arms about me. She rocked me. It was so tender and so loving. Alison acted like a sex-crazed nympho--well, maybe it wasn't an act--but underneath she was a sweet, loving girl. Relief sweep through me as I held her. I loved Alison.

I tightened my arms around her. I loved Alison. Mark and Mary had freed me from their control, and I still loved Alison. Not because they made me, but because what had grown between us over the last three weeks was actually real. I held mi Sirenita, my little mermaid, tight to me, rocking with her as my tears slowed.

"It'll be okay," Alison said, staring up at me, her face so youthful and girlish. Only eighteen.

I kissed her. I closed my eyes and tasted the watermelon lip gloss she wore, savoring it. The flavor of my lover. She sighed into the kiss, her lips moving, her tongue brushing mine, hard with its stud. I savored the kiss, relaxing with every moment.

No matter what, I had Alison. Mi Sirenita.

When I broke the kiss, Alison's brown eyes shone with love. I stroked her face then ran my hands through her bubblegum-pink hair. It was a shame she dyed it. Alison showed me a picture of her a year ago, and she had the most beautiful, honey-brown hair.

"Just relax," she said, her left hand grabbing mine, the diamond engagement ring sparkling on her finger.

I smiled at the sight. When I saw the ring at the jewelry store in the South Hill Mall, I knew it was perfect. Two mermaids were engraved on the band, their arms were the mount for the diamond. The symbol of our love.

"Relax," she said and brought my hand to her bodice.

We were both wearing the disgusting maid outfits that Mark and Mary selected for us. The dress had transparent bodices that exposed our breasts to anyone's gaze, and skirts so short when we bent over our butts and pussies were exposed.

It was just obscene. We were just things to them. Objects to satiate their lusts.

Alison took my hand and shoved it down her bodice. My hand engulfed her warm, silky breast. Her nipple, and the silver barbell piercing it, were hard against my palm. I couldn't help giving her breast a squeeze as an excited flutter shot through me.

"Do you still love me?" Alison asked as I played with her tit.

"Yes, mi Sirenita," I purred, my heart bursting in my chest.

Somehow, this beautiful creature had captured my heart. Maybe it was the fact we were thrown together and forced to share a bed and the house for the last three weeks. We were almost inseparable. Or maybe she was my soulmate.

I didn't know.

All I knew is that I've never felt anything for another person like I do for her. Well, that wasn't true. I felt this way to Mark and Mary before they freed me from their spell. But this emotion was real. I gave her breast a nice squeeze, loving how it felt in my hand.

"Good," she whispered. Then her right hand pulled my face down for another kiss.

I moaned into her lips, our kiss growing hungry this time as my fingers massaged her breast. I loved how firm she felt. My thumb ran across her pierced nipple which caused her tongue to flutter in my mouth.

Alison's hands seized my hips as I savored her kiss. She maneuvered me with deft skill learned from a hundred conquests, guiding me to our bed. Our lips never broke until she pushed me down. I sat on the bed, gasping for breath, staring at her.

"You are gorgeous," I moaned, savoring the thrill of saying what I really meant. And she was. Not what I usually liked in a woman--athletic and lush. Allison had a strange mix of innocence and nymph lust that was intoxicating. "Mi Sirenita."

She smiled at me, her hips undulating back and forth. "Gorgeous, huh," she smiled. "Your gorgeous, naughty mermaid. And I am so wet. Want to see?"

I nodded my head.

She shrugged quickly out of the maid's outfit, the cloth dropping down her slim body to reveal all her naked beauty. She was young, only eighteen, and had the perky curves of a budding woman. Her skin was pale and beautiful and soft as silk. Breasts firm, nipples hard, silver flashing on either side as she wiggled the skirt down her hips. I licked my lips at the sight of her pussy--shaved bare.

And then there was my favorite part about her. The part that so embodied her playful, sexual side--her tattoo on her pudenda. "Cum on in," was written in dark, flowing letters. Underneath, an arrow that pointed down to her pussy.

She wanted to make sure guys had no doubts where to go. Men were idiots; they probably appreciated it.

"I need to eat that pussy," I moaned, my hands snaking out.

I seized her hips and pulled her to me, kissing her flat belly. My brown hair brushed her sides as I licked and tongued her. I nuzzled into her bellybutton, loving the delicious moans and soft sighs she made.

My little mermaid.

As much as I loved kissing her stomach, I wanted to devour her pussy. I slipped off the bed to kneel before her, my lips inches from her tight pussy. Her clit was hard, peeking out of its hood, and I could smell her honey. Her thighs parted eagerly for my lips.

"The tattoo applies for girls as well as boys," Alison winked. "Cum on in, Desiree."

"Yes," I moaned as I leaned forward and licked through her slit.

Her body trembled with pleasure as my tongue caressed her. I lathed her pussy lips and brushed her clit. I knew this snatch. I had eaten it so many times. I knew all the spots to lick and nuzzle and make her squeal. I nibbled on her labia, my hands sliding down to grip her ass as she shuddered and shivered.

"Oh, fuck that's nice," Alison moaned. "Mmm, I love it when you eat my pussy, Desiree."

"You do have such a pretty clam," I moaned, my lips sticky with her sweet honey.

"Then spread me open and feast!"

Her enthusiasm could not be denied. I moved my right hand from her ass and parted her tight slit, revealing her pink depths. Her juices clung to them, tinged with milky whiteness. She was horny and eager. I leaned in and sucked on her labia, enjoying the feel of her intimate flesh on my lips. I worshiped it, loving it.

When she gasped and shuddered, I moved to her clit. I nuzzled against the little pearl buried in her sweet clam. I sucked on it and swirled my tongue around my little mermaid's clit. Alison gave a sharp intake of pleasure.

"You keep that up and you're gonna make me cum," Alison purred.

"Promise?" I asked with a saucy smile.

Alison laughed and then moaned as I dived back into her delicious pussy. I decided to follow her tattoo's instructions and shoved two fingers up inside her hungry clam. Her pussy was so hot and tight, a wonderful paradise clenching about my digits. I tongued her clit as I pumped my fingers in and out of her depths.

She moaned and then seized my hair, pulling my lips tighter against her clit as I pumped my fingers in and out of her pussy. She gasped and shuddered. I twisted my wrist as I plunged my fingers in and out, giving her pussy another wicked treat.

She loved it.

Her hips rotated, grinding her sweet clam on my lips as her pleasure mounted inside her. Her juices dripped into my lips and trickled down my wrist as I pumped my fingers faster and faster inside of her. I loved the feel of her pussy walls sliding around my fingers as I twisted my wrist, swirling them back and forth inside of her.

I agitated her pussy and drove her wild.

"Mmm, yes! Oh yes!" she purred in delight. "Just finger my pussy, Desiree!"

My tongue flicked at her clit as I slipped a third finger into her sweet cunt. She gasped, her firm tits bouncing as I feasted and fingered her. Pink hair spilled about her shoulders as she writhed in ecstatic passion.

"Are you going to cum for me, mi Sirenita?" I asked between licks.

"Yes," she gasped. "Oh, yes, So hard."

"Good."

My fingers churned her pussy, making a wet, sloshing sound. More and more of her juices trickled down my wrist, reaching for my elbow while my tongue fluttered on her clit. She shuddered and groaned, her voice singing so loud.

I had her. She was on the verge of cumming. She just needed a little bit more. I curled my fingers inside her cunt and gave it to her, massaging her G-spot. The effect was instantaneous. She bucked and spasmed, her pussy convulsing about my finger.

"Yes, yes, right there! Oh, fuck! Desiree! I'm cumming! Oh, my Latin beauty!"

For giving her such pleasure, my mouth was rewarded with a fresh flood of her juices. I drank her cream, savoring her pussy massaging my fingers. I drank her honey as her fingers pulled so hard on my hair. She shuddered as her orgasm burst through her.

But one cum wasn't enough for my little mermaid. She needed another.

I sucked on her clit while pumping my fingers in and out of her snatch. She bucked and moaned, her pussy still writhing against my fingers. And then her eyes snapped open and her back arched. Her firm, youthful titties bounced, nipple piercings flashing.

"I'm cumming again. Oh, you're so wonderful. Yes, yes, yes. You always know what to give me. You're the best, Desiree. I fucking love you."

I smiled, savoring her spasming on my fingers as I reamed her depths. I flicked her clit again. She shuddered, her little bud growing sensitive. I purred, slowing my pumping fingers' pace before pulling them out of her pussy. She swayed from her pleasure while I licked my fingers clean of all her wonderful juices.

"Oh fuck! That was amazing, Desiree!" she panted once she caught her breath.

I looked up at her, my face sticky with her juices as she smiled happily back down at me. She shone with such love. Such joy. I didn't regret meeting her at all. Maybe there was one good thing Mark and Mary had done.

With a hungry passion, I stood up and pressed my body against hers, kissing her. Alison's tongue flicked out, dragging her stud across my cheeks and lips as she gathered up her own sweet honey. I moaned, savoring the intimacy.

"Love you," I managed to gasp between hot kisses.

Her fingers found the zipper of my maid's outfit running down my back. She yanked it down, metal rasping. And then the disgusting maid outfit fell off my lush curves and puddled about my feet. Alison stepped back, eyes flicking down.

"And I love you," she moaned, staring lustily at my large, nut-brown breasts.

She reached out, hefting one of my melons, squeezing it with her hand, then bent down and swirled her pierced tongue about my hard nipple. I moaned in delight, enjoying the feel of her metal stud against my nub. The sensations rippled down to my pussy. She teased my nipple. Loved it. Loved me.

"Let me get the strap-on," Alison told me, happiness thick in her voice.

"Sure," I purred.

I stretched out on our bed and watched Alison's ass as she bent down to root in our dresser. Her tight, wet slit peeked out between her slim thighs, swollen and flushed from her orgasms. She found the strap-on and held it up triumphantly. It was a clear, plastic harness with a built-in, thick, pink dildo thrusting from the front.

I smiled at the enthusiasm with which she donned it, thrusting her legs through the harness and pulling it up her thighs. The pink dildo wiggled before her as she tightened the straps with expert precision.

Well, we had a lot of experience using it on each other.

"Ready to get fucked?" Alison posed before me, stroking her fake cock. Naked save for the gold choker tight about her neck, her name written in diamonds. Her slave collar.

I suddenly felt the one about my neck almost strangling me. It was also gold, only my name was written in onyxes. It proclaimed me the slut of Mark and Mary. Their property. Sudden anger blossomed inside me, and I reached behind my neck to take the vile slave collar off.

"What are you doing?" Alison gasped.

I frowned at her, my hands freezing at the clasp. "I'm taking this damned thing off."

"You don't want to be their slut anymore?" Alison asked. Tears brimmed in her eyes.

"You do?" I asked, stunned. Why would Alison want to stay with them?

She nodded her head.

"Why? After what they did to us? They enslaved us, Alison!" I couldn't hide the heat in my voice.

Alison gave me a considering look before she sat down on the bed next to me. Her gentle hands took mine in her pale grip. She raised my hands to her lips, kissing my knuckles. Then she smiled at me, looking so beautiful.

"I wanted to be Master's slave," she confessed. "I've always fantasized about being submissive to a powerful man. When I discovered Master was fucking Lillian while she was cashiering at Goth Topic, I grew so wet." A smile appeared on her lips and her eyes became distant. "Then when Master fucked me in the store, I came so hard. I was so happy when he asked me to be his sex slave, Desiree." She paused, glancing at the engagement ring. "Almost as happy as when you proposed to me."

"So you want to stay their slut?"

"So much," she moaned, and I could hear it in her voice. She did. She truly wanted to be their slut.

A fear seized my heart. "What about us? I thought you loved me?"

"I do," she protested. "But we can both be theirs, Desiree. Together."

I was horrified. "I can't, Alison. Please don't ask me to do this."

"How is this any different than Brandon?" Alison asked me.

"It is completely different," I objected. "I chose to marry him."

Alison rolled her eyes, like making a choice was that important. "Desiree, honey, you married him for his money."

"And?"

"You were a gold digger. A lesbian who submitted to his lusts in exchange for a comfortable life. You let him rut atop you with his pudgy body, let his cum spill into you.."

"Don't remind me," I shuddered, hating how I had to lie beneath Brandon, making sure I kept him happy so he didn't cut off the purse string with blowjobs and even anal.

"And Master and Mistress will give us all we desire, too. All we have to do is satisfy their lusts. It's really a better deal than a gold digger gets." A naughty smile appeared on her lips. "And don't tell me you hated the sex."

I opened my mouth to protest, but no words came out.

She was right. I had enjoyed it. The best sex I ever had. Even with Mark. He had such a passion for my body, such enthusiasm for sex. I didn't have to fake my orgasms with him. And Mary was gorgeous, and there were all the sluts. It had been a hedonist's paradise being apart of their harem for the last three weeks, fucking, sucking, obeying them.

And it was... kinky to obey. To submit.

Alison sensed my hesitation and pounced on me, kissing me with her hungry lips. Could I submit to them and be their slave? I married Brandon for his money, for the comforts he could give me. I let the disgusting man paw at my body.

Alison was right; at least I enjoyed the sex with Mark and Mary.

And if I did leave, what then? Would I have to go back to Brandon and mooch off of him? What had even happened to him? He was out there, causing problems for Mark and Mary. They were hunting him down. He... murdered that poor man in Germany to get the book. He was a danger.

No. I couldn't go back to him. And I didn't want to find another rich, fat man to fuck. Plus Mark and Mary had power. Real power.

Greed parted my legs for Alison. I moaned into her sweet lips as her dildo prodded the lips of my pussy. She humped, struggling to bury it into me, but her eagerness kept her from quite finding the right way to thrust into me.

I reached down, grabbed the plastic cock, and guided it inside me. Alison slammed it home inside me, pumping her ass vigorously. I shuddered and groaned as my pussy clenched about the fake dick. It was nice.

Just like Mark's cock.

"Please, please, say you'll submit and be their slaves with me," Alison moaned.

I grabbed her tight, youthful ass and pulled her against me. I savored the feel of her hard, pierced nipples rubbing against my pillowy tits. Pleasure burned out of my pussy as she gasped and moaned and pumped above me. My clit throbbed every time she bottomed out in me, grinding the strap-on's vinyl harness against my sensitive nub.

She was so enthusiastic. She fucked me so hard. I couldn't take it. My orgasm swelled so fast inside of me. I humped up against her, staring into her eyes, drinking in her passion. She was amazing. She did everything with her whole heart. No reservations.

I loved her so much.

"Let's be slaves together," Alison panted, her breath hot on my ear. I shivered as her tongue traced my earlobe. "We'll be slut-wives! Pleasing each other when Master and Mistress do not need us. Oh, please be my slut-wife, Desiree? Please, please, please?"

My fingernails bit into Alison's ass as my orgasm crashed through me. "Yes!" I howled. "Oh, yes! I'll be your slut-wife!"

Alison's happy smile was worth it. She had the same happy smile when I proposed to her. It took me a moment to realize the same smile was gracing my lips. I grabbed her pink tresses and pulled her lips down to mine.

I kissed my fiancee, my future slut-wife, as tears of happiness rolled down my cheeks.

The sluts were sorely tested by the revelation that their Master was a God. Temptation beat in each of their hearts. Some would be strong and faithful, but three revealed the treachery of their foul hearts and broke faith with the Living Gods. Their hearts pithed with sin, they each turned on their former Masters in rebellion.

--The Gospel of April 32:1-2

Violet Matheson

Panic gripped me as the others fought outside. I hugged myself. This couldn't be happening. Master couldn't abandon me. Not after he rescued me from my mother. If he didn't want me any longer I would have to go back to her.

And she would have to punish me.

The light. I would have to face the light. I couldn't face the light. Master had to keep me. He had to protect me from her. He saved me. He couldn't abandon me now. I didn't care if he fucked me. I didn't mind the sex.

I liked the sex.

There was no sex in the light.

Mother didn't raise a filthy, degenerate lesbian.

I rocked on the seat, my heart beating faster and faster and faster. Master had to come back. He had to keep me. He had to.

April Lovel

I sat quietly at the table as the argument raged. I didn't know what to do, what to say. The other sluts were leaving. Fiona had already left in an angry huff, and Lillian and Noel's argument had moved to the living room. Everyone was slipping away. I didn't even notice when Alison and Desiree slipped out and Thamina had vanished. Sam gathered up her translations and headed into Mary's studio. Jessica calmly walked out, followed by a puzzled Willow.

I was just confused.

I vividly remember Mark bringing Felicity and me to his house. We were both virgins and it was such an exciting day. Mark taught me to suck his cock, then I lay on the bed, Felicity at my side, as Mark ate out my pussy and Mary ate out Felicity's.

I had such an amazing orgasm.

And then Mark mounted me and took my virginity. I found myself falling in love with him at that moment. He was so strong. He swept into my college and claimed me. I was so helpless to resist his power. I had loved it, his cock in my pussy, fucking me, and then he came in me. Then I remembered how hurt I had been when they kicked me out of the bedroom.

I gave Mark my virginity, my innocent heart, and he tossed me aside.

And I pined after him over the weekend.

And them Mary appeared at my school and I became her slave. Which meant I was also Mark's slave. I was so happy. I could be with the man whom I had given my heart, and my innocence, to. The last week had been so amazing.

Even freed of his... what? Spell? I didn't regret Mark taking my virginity. But did I want to continue being his... slut?

I would be giving up my dreams of transferring to Digipan, a video game programming school. Was Mark worth it? I would be happy with him. And Mark must love me if he gave me this freedom. Mary liked to talk about how much Mark loved her and set her free.

I hadn't understood what she meant until now. Well, Mark must love me too. I smiled. Mark loved me, and that thought sent happy butterflies flapping through my stomach.

I glanced up at Violet. Tears ran down her face.

I moved around the table, sat next to her, and hugged the pretty, innocent girl. She was my age, eighteen and so sweet. It was so hard to see her cry. "It'll be alright, Violet."

"I... don't... want..." she sobbed, "to... go... back... home..."

"Shh, you don't have to go home," I told her.

"But... but Master and Mistress... they don't.... want me... anymore."

"Of course they do," I told her, kissing her salty cheek. She trembled again. "They just love us so much, they are giving us the choice to stay with them."

"Really?" Violet asked. She wiped at her cheeks like a chipmunk. Her eyes were red and puffy from her crying, and it just made her look even cuter.

"Yes."

"I don't have to go back to Mother and the light?"

"No," I said firmly. What was the light?

With my simple word she relaxed, a tremulous smile forming on her lips. "Good." She reached out and grabbed my hand. "Are you staying, April?"

"Of course," I told her. Master loved me. And Mistress, too. "It's been so much fun being with all of you. How could I give this up?"

Violet nodded her head, leaned over, and kissed me on the lips.

It was a sweet kiss. A loving kiss. And then it became something more. Something full of passion that made my heart beat so fast. My head swam as I held this sweet, innocent, wonderful girl in my arms.

Fiona Cavanagh

Shame filled my body as I sat down on the curb outside Mark's house. All the signs of the violence were mostly gone, cleaned up by the few cops lingering around. I felt so dirty. So used. The moment my butt touched the curb, the tears came.

I shrieked, hating the disgusting clothes I wore. The trashy, skimpy, demeaning outfit Mark made me wear. Memory of all the times I was forced to... pleasure him and Mary curdled my stomach. I struggled to breathe as I screamed my rage. I ripped the choker off my neck and hurled it into the bushes.

Then I buried my face into my hands and cried.

And cried. I don't know how long I cried. Did it matter? I felt so disgusted. One moment, I was a waitress enjoying my shift, the next I was involved in an orgy with Mark and his whore. The things I did...

Could I ever forget them?

Someone sat down next to me. I felt her presence, soft and supportive. I lowered my hands and saw Thamina through my tear-filled eyes. She was dressed as modestly as she could, which was not that much, a colorful headscarf wrapped about her head. No choker encircled her throat. She wasn't an idiot like Lillian who seemed to find it acceptable that Mark essentially raped all of us.

"I know," Thamina whispered comfortingly, her hand taking mine. "Come with me."

"Where?" I asked. I had nowhere to go. No car, no phone, no money. I left everything behind when Mark took me. I left Hank behind. Another sob threatened to overwhelm me as I thought of my boyfriend. He must be sick with worry. I vaguely remembered Jessica reporting he had filed a missing-person report on me.

"My place," Thamina said, holding her keys.

I blinked at them then nodded. Where else could I go? I guess it really didn't matter where so long as it was away from here. And then the jingle of the keys reminded me just what Thamina had done to win the white Ford Escape Mark gave her.

He held a masturbation contest at the car dealership. All us sluts had competed. Even me. Another shudder of disgust went through me. I had masturbated in public for Mark. A crowd of people watched us, made bets on us, and filmed us with their phones. I bet those videos were on the internet.

I felt so dirty. I needed to scrub the filth off my skin.

"Let's get the fuck out of here," I said. "Before I throw up."

She nodded her head in complete understanding.

Thamina's white Ford Escape had somehow escaped the firefight untouched. The garage door was open, and I spotted Mark's Mustang leaking antifreeze from a round that went through the front grill. Good. The bastard deserves that, and more, to happen to him. I climbed into the passenger seat of the SUV while Thamina started it up. We drove down the street.

At the cul-de-sac's entrance on Shaw Road, there was a media circus being managed by the Puyallup Police. All the cops were under his control. There was a young girl, eighteen, with black hair in a plaited braid and a smiling face. She wore a red sundress decorated with white flowers and was taking a selfie in front of the sign of the neighborhood.

So many delusional women thought they wanted to be Mark's, not caring he used mental roofies on women to have sex with them. I glared at the idiot as Thamina took a left and drove us away from Mark Glassner.

We drove in silence to Thamina's apartment near Canyon Road. Deer Creek Apartments was the name, one of those gated communities. Thamina almost forgot her code when we pulled up to the security box and it took three tries before she punched it in right.

"I'm always forgetting it," Thamina said, her cheeks flushing dark.

"It's alright, Thamina," I told her, patting her knee.

We drove through the complex. The apartment buildings were all three stories tall. There were so many speed bumps, but the SUV handled them with ease. She pulled into her parking spot before her apartment and we climbed out. We walked up the stairs made of poured concrete to the third floor and reached her door. She unlocked it and went in.

"It's been more than two weeks since I've been home," she sighed, dropping her keys into a glass bowl.

"Me, too," I replied bitterly. "Longer." I saw her phone. "Can I use it?"

"Sure," Thamina said as she disappeared down a hallway which no doubt led to her bedroom.

I sank down on the couch and took a moment to remember the phone number for the apartment in Seattle I shared with my boyfriend Hank. I dialed the number, my stomach churning. How long had it been? Almost three weeks.

Hank must be worried sick about me.

"Hi," a woman's voice answered.

"Oh, hello," I said in surprise. Who was this woman in my apartment? Did I call the right number? "Is Hank there?"

"Who wants to know?" the woman asked coldly. There was a possessive tone to her voice that caused my stomach to sink.

Hank had already replaced me. I slammed the phone down onto its cradle too hard. It bounced up and then fell onto the floor, a dial tone beeping. We had been dating for two years and he replaced me in two weeks? Sobs rocked my body.

"God damn Mark fucking Glassner. Why me? Why did you have to choose me and ruin my life? I was happy! Things were going great with Hank!"

"It will be alright," Thamina murmured, hugging me. I hadn't notice her enter.

She was dressed in a long, dark skirt and very conservative blouse. A blue-and-red headscarf wrapped around her head, leaving only her round, dusky face with those sexy, dark eyes. I licked my lips, a heat flushing through my body. All those weeks making love to those women, to Thamina, surged through me. Her lips were red and moist, and I was drawn to them, pulled by an inescapable force.

She stiffened as I kissed those lips before she pulled away.

"What are you doing, Fiona?" she gasped, her voice tight.

What was I doing? "I don't know." Fresh tears burned in my eyes. "Christ, the last two weeks have screwed my head all up. All the fucking we had to do. And... and... I just couldn't resist kissing you. I... I'm sorry. I'll leave."

I went to stand up, but she caught my hand and pulled me back. This time she kissed me, and it was my turn to stiffen in surprise. Her lips were warm as I remembered them. So soft and sensual and delicious against mine.

I was breathless when she broke the kiss.

"You are not the only one that has changed," Thamina said, disgust painting her face. "I know it is wrong, a sin, for women to be together. But..."

"You just can't control yourself?" I asked.

"I can't," she sighed in resignation before pulling me in for a second kiss.​