The Devil's Pact Pt. 12

The dream would play out the same as it always did. In a moment, Kurt would walk in and I would...do things to him as my family happily ate their dinner. I hated thinking of the vile things Kurt would make me do. My body ached from the burns and bruises, my nipples burning in pain from the piercings.

And then I would wake up, sweating and shivering. I would cry myself back to sleep, heartsick for my husband and daughters. Kurt had stolen my family away from me. When Sister Louise freed me, Kurt had already made me tell my husband all the filthy things I had been made to do by the bastard. I could still see the hurt in Sean's eyes as the enslaved me told him how much I enjoyed Kurt's cock. The monster made me divorce Sean and sign away my parental rights. When I was freed by Sister Louise, it was too late for me to go back to Sean. He had been too hurt.

The damage was done.

"Theodora..." the voice whispered again.

I looked around, conscious that I was dreaming.

Kurt was there, lurking behind me, a shadowy form with a mohawk, red eyes, and silver glinting at his lip from his piercing. Kurt loved piercings, the asshole had made me get piercings all over my body: my lips and nose, my nipples and clitoral hood, and both of my labia. The holes had healed over the last thirteen years, but not the memories. I could still recall Kurt pulling on the rings piercing my nipples, or my labia until the pleasure turned to pain.

"Theodora..."

The voice was coming from the hallway that led back to the bedrooms. Sean and I had a tiny house, only three bedrooms and one floor. Missy and Mary had to share a bedroom, but Shannon had her own bedroom because she was the oldest.

I followed the voice and saw silvery light shining underneath the door to the bedroom I used to share with my husband. My heart thudded in my chest. What was going on here? My hand shook as I reached out for the door, the metal cold beneath my sweaty palm.

"Theodora..."

The voice came from right behind the door, ethereal, accompanied by a musical chorus, like the ringing of wind chimes.

The door opened and standing in the room, shining brilliant silver, was a seemingly young looking man, fit and muscled like a Greek statue, dressed in a white tunic. He was handsome, almost beautiful, his face chiseled and perfect, square-jawed. My face flushed with desire. His hair was shining gold, his eyes brilliant sapphires, and his skin burnished bronze. His face was peaceful, serene even, just the hint of a smile played on his lips.

"Theodora, I am the Dominion Ramiel, here to guide and instruct you through your dreams."

I swallowed. "Thank you, my Lord."

"I am unworthy of such honors, you may simply refer to me as Ramiel," he said humbly. "As you have suspected, Sister Louise has fallen to her Pride and been made Thrall by the Warlock."

Fear ran cold across my skin. "I will not fail," I said, not sure what else to say.

"Of course not, Theodora. However, the Demoness Lilith has been summoned and serves the Warlocks."

"Warlocks?" I interrupted. "There's more than one?"

"Yes, lovers," Ramiel simply answered. "With Lilith of the Black Womb aiding them, the traditional powers of our Priestess will soon be ineffective. Lilith will arm the Warlocks with the ability to see your golden aura and will make their Thralls immune to control and exorcism. Other methods will be necessary to fight them. More oblique methods."

It was worse than I thought. "I...I have never faced a demon before."

"It has been many centuries since Warlocks have been so armed, but fear not. Tactics were developed and I am here to teach you."

His tunic melted away, leaving him naked. His manhood was hard and erect, rising out of a forest of golden hair. "You need to...be with me?" I asked, squeezing my thighs as my excitement mounted.

The touch of an Angel was Ecstasy.

"Just as you were taught your current prayers," Ramiel answered.

Sweet memories or those early dreams I had experienced right after I took my vows blossomed in my mind. I had been taught my prayers by the Angel Hadraniel. It had been several very pleasant nights of being the lover of an Angel.

"This first one you shall learn is known as the Prayer of Avvah."

Ramiel's bronzed hand caressed my face, pleasure rippled through my body. My clothes melted away as Ramiel kissed me, wrapping his arms about my body. His manhood pressed hard against my stomach, and I moaned wantonly into his lips. Like with Gabriel and his Ecstasy, pleasure surged through my body, ending at my womanhood in an explosion of bliss.

My pussy convulsed as orgasm after orgasm rocketed through my body. I was buffeted by the rapture, screaming my ecstasy into his mouth. I shuddered, my mind lost as every neuron in my body fired.

I came to my senses for a moment. I lay on the bed, Ramiel was on top of me, his cock hard and pressing at the opening of my pussy. "Praise God!" Ramiel moaned as he sank slowly inside me.

I cried out in passion, his girth pleasurably spreading my pussy, the head of his dick rubbing deliciously on the sensitive walls of my sheath. I racked his strong back with my fingernails as another orgasm rolled through me. Ramiel fucked me with a slow, steady rhythm atop me. I slid my hands down and gripped the hard muscles of his ass, pulling him harder into me.

"The Prayer of Avvah can only be used on a mortal, one not touched by evil," Ramiel gasped as he thrust in and out of me. "It will create a powerful, obsessive attraction between two people."

"I don't...oh fuck...understand?" I gasped. "How could that...uhhh...useful?"

"There are two Warlocks. They are lovers," Ramiel explained. "A wedge must be driven between them. Separate, they will be more vulnerable. Particularly the male. His powers are too dangerous and Lilith serves his lover."

"Okay," I moaned. "Harder, please! Oh, God! Oh, God!"

Ramiel fucked me harder, faster. It felt so good! Nothing was better than a man inside my pussy, and an Angel was even better than a man. My legs wrapped about his waist, tightly hugging him to me. My third orgasm was building quickly. Every time his cock buried itself into my cunt, my clit rubbed against his groin and my orgasm grew and grew until I screamed my pleasure loudly.

"To perform the Prayer," Ramiel continued as I bucked and heaved, locked in rapture, "you must intimately know the Mortal. When they orgasm, whisper Avvah into their ear followed by the name of the person you wish them to form the obsession with. When that Mortal lies with the one you named, the Bond of Avvah shall form."

"Alright," I panted, kissing his beautiful face, enjoying his muscular chest crushing my breasts, my nipples.

"Tonight, you will find a mortal to test it out with," Ramiel continued. "You will know him when you lay eyes on him and with whom to make his obsession. When you are sure you've preformed the Prayer correctly, your true target is Samantha."

"Antsy?" I gasped in realization. "She claims to the sister of Mark Glassner."

"Indeed, her brother is Mark Glassner, one of the Warlock," Ramiel answered. "To arm himself against you, he will need to sleep with his sister. Thus, we shall turn the Warlocks plan against him."

"Yes, yes, yes, I can do that!" I panted, grinding my hips into Ramiel, desperate to reach another orgasm. Ramiel began plowing me hard, his cock felt like fire as it plunged in and out, stirring me up over and over. His thrust became more frantic, my pussy was beginning to ache pleasantly from the urgency of his fucking. His cum was liquid fire inside me, igniting every nerve in my body and...

...I woke up cumming and groaning, wrapped up in the sheets of my hotel bed. I was drenched in sweat, my silk negligee clinging wetly to my body. The air conditioner blew cold upon my body and I shivered.

"Have a good one?" Antsy asked sleepily, lying on her side. "You've been moaning for the last ten minutes."

"What?" I asked trying to think through the fog of ecstasy.

"Did you have a nice wet dream?" Antsy grinned, sitting up in her bed. She was wearing a yellow t-shirt that left her slim legs bared.

"Yeah," I answered, smiling. "A really nice one."

* * *

Agent Noel Heinrich -- Tacoma, WA

I sat on the far end of the table hoping SAC Kemp wouldn't speak to me. The short, bald man with piercing eyes was the Special-Agent-in-Charge of the Tacoma branch of the FBI. The ASAC, Michael Donovan, sat nearby, leaning back in his chair as he read our report.

The door to the conference room opened and Sheriff Erkhart strode in, dressed in the beige uniform of a Pierce County Sheriff. He was a tall man, streaks of gray at his temple.

"Thanks for coming in, Pete," the SAC said, motioning to a chair. "The situation in Puyallup is growing dire."

Sheriff Erkhart nodded. "It's one of the topics at the LESA meeting this afternoon. I just can't believe Chief Hayworth and his department have been compromised."

"We have wiretap evidence of at least his 911 operators and police dispatchers are under Mark's power," my partner, Special Agent Peterson, assured the Sheriff. "Your SWAT commander can tell you the level of cooperation we received from the Puyallup Police yesterday."

None.

"It's definitely a problem. This damned gas." The Sheriff drummed his fingers. "So what do you need from me?"

"Your SWAT team on standby, ready to go at a moment's notice," Kemp said. "They have chemical warfare gear. I'm sure you have veterans in the unit that have used MOP in combat."

The Sheriff nodded.

"Loan them to us. We'll station them in Puyallup. We've already located a storage facility near the Mall that works perfectly to house their gear. We have the Puyallup Police Department's communication facility bugged. The moment we get a 911 call, we can pounce and send in the big guns."

"I don't have a problem with that." The Sheriff leaned forward. "This man is dangerous. I hope you're not thinking of using nonlethals on him?"

I swallowed, a chill descending on the room.

"If you're men think he's a threat to their...independent thought, I don't think anyone will criticize too loudly if they responded with lethal force."

A technician burst in. "We're getting 911 calls from South Hill about Mark," he reported.

"Damn it," Peterson groaned. "We're not ready."

"We will be soon," I told him. "Mark thinks he's invincible. We'll get other shots at him."

Chapter Three

Many lies were slandered by the media, and none were more vile than the musings of Jessica St. Pierre. Like all who slandered our Living Gods, she had a weakness--vain pride. Her pride had consumed her, and led her to her awakening when she witnessed the God in all his glory.

--First book of Vivian 15 1-1

Jessica St. Pierre -- South Hill, WA

I was too excited to be tired as Freddy, my overweight cameraman, pulled up the news van on the shoulder of Shaw Road. I had good reason to believe I'd catch Mark Glassner jogging naked down the road. Last night, after I left the South Hill Mall, I had interviewed Matilda Cranston. She had claimed to see Mark jogging naked both Monday and Tuesday morning accompanied by other women.

I was right outside Mountain View Terrace. If I saw him, then I would have confirmation that Mark Glassner was staying in the house at the end of Mountain View Terrace. Monday evening, while reporting at an officer involved shooting, I thought I had glimpsed Mark.

It also made me realize that Mark Glassner had the entire Puyallup Police Department under his thumb. I was ready to break this story and win an Emmy. This would be the story of the decade. Already every news channel across the country were running my reports on Mark Glassner, the country fascinated by the terrorist that could control people with a strange gas.

"We ready to record the phone call?" I asked Freddy as we sat up, the sun just rising to the east over Mount Rainier.

"Yes, we are," Freddy grinned. We had worked together for months, and for months he had been an apathetic guy barely doing enough work to keep from being fired. But this story had him invested.

I was eager to call 911 the moment we had Mark on film. I would record the dispatchers not caring at all about the call and splice it together with my footage. Today was the day I made my big splash.

I pulled out my compact and checked my makeup.

I was perfect.

* * *

Mark Glassner

The sunlight streaking through the bedroom window woke me up.

My fiancee, Mary, slept peacefully next to me. A streak of auburn hair lay across her pale, freckled cheek. She was so beautiful, I reached out and gently brushed the strand of hair out of her face. She smiled in her sleep and murmured slowly. I kissed her cheek and carefully crawled out of bed to take a piss.

When I finished, I slipped out of the master bedroom and headed downstairs for my morning jog. None of the sluts were awake and the house was strangely quiet. On the porch the two members of the Naked Jogging Club waited nude--Anastasia and Madeleine. Anastasia was a blonde, Russian beauty that strangely dyed her hair a dark black while Madeleine was a MILF brunette. A Southern belle with a wickedly hot accent.

I hated jogging, but I did it to get in better shape for Mary. Of course, watching two fine, naked asses bobbing before me was a hell of a motivator.

My thoughts drifted as I jogged, my eyes fixed on the shaking, perfect asses before me. My cock was hard and throbbing, eager for the post-jog fuck. The talk with Karen last night only made it more important that I seduced my mother.

According to Lilith, the Zimmah ritual would create a bond between me and my Thralls. A nun, like Sister Theodora Mariam would be unable to dominated my Thralls the way Karen had on Monday. Every time the Thralls were away from me or Mary, they were vulnerable. To cast the Zimmah ritual, I had to fuck my mom. And, again according to Lilith, my mind control powers would not affect my mother. The only person immune to a Warlock's powers were their mother, for a man, and their father, for a woman.

So how could I make love to my mother?

I shuddered, thinking about the alternative ways to fuck her. I couldn't rape my mother. She was...well...my mother. Maybe if she had been an asshole like my father, but she was always the sweetest woman in the world. Even when she was angry with me I weirdly felt like she still cared about me. Not like my dad; the asshole would just get drunk and hit me. Fuck, the fact that she's put up with my dad for thirty years must make her a saint or something.

I barely noticed that we had jogged down to Rogers College and were already heading back home. Scenario after scenario flooded my mind as I considered how I could seduce my mother. None seemed realistic.

She was an uptight Christian. I'm pretty sure she's only ever been with Dad. She'd never willingly sleep with her son.

I shook my head in frustration and noticed two women waiting at the street light at Shaw Road ahead. Two new members to the Naked Jogging Club would distract me from the problem with my mom. I grinned, my cock throbbing harder.

* * *

Jessica St. Pierre

I giggled in delight as Freddy edited the 911 call into the footage we captured of Mark and the two women jogging out of Mountain View Terrace, turning left onto Shaw Road and jogging down towards the light at 39th Avenue.

"This is it, Freddy. This is going to make me famous."

Freddy nodded his head. "We should think about getting out of here."

I shook my head. "I want to film him coming back. Maybe, if we're quick, we can hop in and drive down the street. If we witness Mark going into the house, we'll have him." I let out another squeal of excitement. I was getting my Emmy.

"I don't know..." Freddy said. "We're pressing our luck. He'll definitely see us."

"So? Did you see anything on him? He was completely naked. How could he gas us?" I gave Freddy a look. "Besides, I think you can take him. He's a little pudgy."

"I guess," Freddy muttered. "But..."

"We're doing it. It'll be the final touches the story needs." I glanced up the road to the light. "Shit, that's him."

Freddy piled out of the van after me, pointing his camera down the street. I grabbed the mic and began narrating. "Mark Glassner returns from his jog. He has been gone twenty minuets. So far, no Puyallup Police Officers have responded. Further proof that the Puyallup cops are under the control of his insidious gas."

Insidious. I loved that word. It would frighten people.

"Hey, Jessica," Freddy said as Mark grew closer.

A younger woman, maybe eighteen with honey-brown hair, pointed at us. I blinked. There were four women with Mark instead of two. "And it looks like Mark Glassner has picked up two more women to join him jogging naked..."

My voice trailed off as Mark crossed the road, his naked women jogging on. He was coming towards us. Panic gripped me. He had added two more women. However Mark controlled people, it wasn't with some gas he had to lug around with him.

"We need to go, Jessica!" Freddy said.

"Yeah!" I gasped, turning to race back to the news van.

"Stop!" a powerful, commanding voice boomed. My legs obeyed. "Why are you running?"

"I don't want to be controlled by you," I spat out trying to force my legs to move.

"But you're a reporter. You want to interview me."

My eyes widened. This was the scoop of a lifetime. "Yes, I do, Mark Glassner." I beamed, turning to face him.

* * *

Mark Glassner

I grinned at the reporter as she turned around, excitement suddenly blooming in her caramel face. She was gorgeous, a perfect face framed by honey-brown hair. It was hard to tell what nationality she was; Hispanic, Asian, Filipino, or African American. Maybe it was all of them, blended together to make this smoking hot reporter. She wore a pink, silk blouse and a tight, gray pencil skirt that showed off the nice curves of her ass.

She wanted to move towards me. "You can both move," I commanded them.

The sexy reported strutted towards me, shaking those fine hips. My cock ached to be touched. Her greasy-looking camera operator followed her, the camera pointed right at me. I was naked, being recorded, and I didn't care. I could do anything.

"Sir," the reporter purred, her voice honey on my ears. I had seen her on the news reporting on me a few times. "I'm Jessica St. Pierre, KIRO 7 News. Why are you and that group of ladies jogging naked?"

"We're the Naked Jogging Club," I told her. "I figured I should get in shape, and the best way is with a bunch of sexy, naked women."

The cameraman grinned at me.

"I completely agree," Jessica nodded. "I can see how that would be stimulating."

"It is," I nodded. "And you're getting stimulated just looking at my naked body. I make you wet."

She shifted her hips, her cheeks blushing. "So wet, sir."

"I bet your naughty pussy is just begging to be fucked by my hard cock."

Her moan was so throaty. "Oh, yes, Mark. I would love that."

"Then why don't we continue this interview in your news van." I glanced at her cameraman. "Alone."

"Absolutely," Jessica moaned, her nipples hard through her silk blouse. "Freddy, stay out here."

"Eh, Jessica, are you sure about that," the cameraman asked.

"Yeah, Freddy," Jessica answered. "I need to be satisfied. Mark's so...stimulating."

"Relax, Freddy, Just hang outside and never tell anyone about this," I ordered. "And delete the footage."

"Yeah," Freddy muttered, playing with his camera. "Shit."

Inside the news van was crowded with equipment. There was a video editing machine on one side and shelves holding cables, lens, batteries, and other items covered the opposite wall. A large cylinder filled part of the van, the telescoping satellite dish that would rise up for broadcasting.