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Introduction:

Jonathon's wife ran afoul of Mark Glassner, and he's about to find out just how she's changed.
The Devil's Pact
by mypenname3000
edited by Master Ken
Copyright 2014

The Devil's Pact Side Story: Jonathon's New Wife

Note: This takes place during Chapter 10 and Chapter 11. While robbing his first bank, Mark fucked a bank teller named Monica, ordering her to be a good wife, and do whatever nasty, whorish things her husband wants her to.

Monday, June 10th, 2013 – Jonathon Jephson

I hate Mondays. They are the worst, just dragging on and on, reminding you that the weekend is over. I was supposed to be writing this TPS report, but I just couldn't focus on my work; I didn't want the weekend to be over, and writing the report would be admitting that the workweek had officially started. Luckily, there were a number of ways to procrastinate: my favorite, frequent trips to the water cooler. Frequent water breaks naturally led to frequent bathroom breaks; another great way to waste time.

“How's that report coming, Jon?” my boss asked me on what must have been my twentieth water cooler trip; it wasn't even noon yet.

I gritted my teeth. He always called me Jon, no matter how many times I told him my name is Jonathon. I hated being called Jon. I liked my name; I saw no reason to shorten it. Instead of having the brass to correct him, I lied and said the report was coming along just fine. When I reached my cubical, I took a deep breath, and forced myself to start working on it. My fingers began to type—the weekend was over.

I didn't get far when my cell rang. I fished it out of my pocket, and saw that it was my wife, Monica, calling. I smiled; she must be having a slow day, too. She was a teller at the Bank of America branch in Parkland, and always had the best stories about some of her customers. Well, this is a great excuse to procrastinate; I could pretend the workweek hadn't actually started.

“Hey, cutiepie,” I answered.

“This is Mark,” a man, with a commanding voice, said. There was something about his voice – maybe it was the rich timbre of it, or the absolute confidence – that was just so compelling, like he was reaching down into my soul. Why didn't my wife answer? “I'm with your wife. I've been counseling her.” There were a few bumps, like the phone was being jostled. “Say hi to your husband,” Mark said, his voice sounding strange, hollow, as if he was on speaker phone.

“Hi, sweetie,” Monica greeted. There was something in her voice, like she was straining or exerting herself, making her voice a little higher pitched than normal.

“What kind of counseling,” I asked in concern. There was a noise in the background, a kind of rhythmic, slapping noise. Maybe it was construction?

“Your wife tells me she has problems doing certain things in the bedroom,” Mark continued. “But I've helped your wife understand that it's her duty to do whatever perverted things her husbands wants. Right, Monica?”

“Yeah, Jonathon,” Monica panted in excitement. “I'm going to let you fuck my ass, or I'll give you blowjobs.”

“Really?” I couldn't hide the excitement in my voice.

I loved Monica, but she was a little frigid in the bedroom. Well, to be honest, she was very frigid, and usually we just made love in the missionary position. Only once in a while could I get her to give me a blowjob, and she never lets me fuck her in the ass. “That's filthy, Jonathon,” she would say with disgust whenever I would bring up anal sex. I had never even worked up the courage to tell her my greatest desire, not if she thought anal sex was disgusting.

“Y-yeah, sweetie!” Monica gasped. What was she doing to get her so out of breath? I didn't care, my cock was hard just thinking about Monica sucking it, and letting me stick it up her ass.

“Man, Mark, how can I repay you?”

“Your wife's already covered the payment.”

This Monday was turning into the greatest day ever. “I love you, cutiepie.”

“Oh, I love you too, Jonathon,” Monica answered with a whisper. I thought I heard her moan, and then the phone went dead.

I don't know what came over my wife, but this Mark guy must be a miracle worker if he could unthaw her. The rest of the day passed in a blur as I quickly finished my work; I've never written a TPS report so fast, and the moment five o'clock hit, I was out the door, into my car, and rushing home. There was an accident on I-5, and my twenty minute commute stretched out into a long, frustrating hour of screaming out the window, and pounding my steering wheel.

When I finally got home, Monica's car was parked in the driveway. She always beat me home; we lived in the Eastside neighborhood of Tacoma, a mere ten minute, traffic-free drive from her bank. I grabbed my satchel, and rushed to the door, eager to put the new Monica to the test, while fearing this was some sort of elaborate prank. Maybe Monica signed us up for some sort of cruel reality show, like 'How to Frustrate Your Husband'.

It wasn't; she was waiting for me naked and posing like a pin-up model. My wife was gorgeous; she had hair the color of light honey, that fell about her shoulders in curly waves. An eager smile graced her lush, red lips. One hand was in her hair, the other on her hip, and her large breasts were thrust forward, topped by fat nipples. My eyes followed the curve of her side down to her hips, to the brown hair that adorned her pussy, and peaking through the mat of hair were the thick lips of her pussy, engorged with passion.

“Welcome home, honey,” she purred like a kitten.

I whistled; my cock became iron. “You look amazing, cutiepie!”

Her smile turned pleased. I dropped my satchel, and caught my wife in an embrace. She kissed me passionately, rubbing her naked body against me. Her tongue was eager as she wiggled it into my lips, fluttering it around and exploring every inch of my mouth. I slipped a hand down and cupped her ass, and pulled her tight against me, letting her feel the bulge forming in my pants.

She knelt before me when she broke the kiss. “I'm so sorry for being such a bad wife. From now on, I'll be the best wife ever.” She rubbed at my crotch, squeezing my cock through my slacks. “I meant what I said; I'll do anything you want.”

“Anything?” My deepest, darkest fantasy was to have my wife be my sex slave. For her to be the perfect, submissive slut. Only in the bedroom, of course.

“Anything!” Her smile was all promise.

I swallowed; would she really do it? I threw caution to the wind, and commanded, “I want you to be my sex slave!”

“Yes, Master,” she answered, sounding unsure. “That's what I would call you, right?”

“Yeah,” I smiled. “My loving, little slave-wife.”

She gave a throaty laugh. “I'm yours, Master. Your naughty slave-wife.”

“Suck me!”

“Absolutely, Master!”

My wife unzipped my pants and pulled out my cock. She gave me a few strokes, then her lips were warm and wet as she engulfed me. I groaned, closing my eyes. I really needed to thank this Mark fellow; this was the best thing that's ever happened to me. Monica swirled her tongue around my cock, her hands gently cupping my balls.

“Suck me, slut!” I groaned. “You filthy whore! Pleasure me with your mouth!”

I glanced down, and saw my wife's eyes shining with lust as she sucked harder; my very own slave-wife. This Mark was a fucking saint! Feeling bolder, I grasped her head and started fucking her face. She didn't fight me. The few times Monica ever sucked me off, she never let me face fuck her; she had to be in control. Well, never again.

“I'm going to fuck your dirty mouth, slut! When I flood your lips with my cum, you will swallow it all, whore!”

She nodded around my cock. Her hands still massaged my balls as the head of my cock brushed the back of her throat. I've never deep-throated a girl before. So I held her head tighter, and shoved my cock down her throat. She resisted for a moment, and then she relaxed, and I was buried all the way into her mouth—it felt stupendous! Tight, warm, constricting as she swallowed.

Too amazing; my balls erupted instantly, and I pulled back until only the tip was still between her lips, my cum flooding her mouth with three huge blasts. Panting, I pulled out of my wife's mouth, a trail of spit and cum connected my cock to her lips for a moment, before snapping. She smiled, and opened wide, showing me the white cum filling her mouth. Then she swallowed. Once more she opened wide; all my cum was gone.

“That was amazing, Monica,” I panted.

“You're welcome, Master.”

“I love you, cutiepie.”

She blushed. “I love you, too, Master. I have a surprise for you, upstairs.”

“What?”

“You'll see.” Her smile was all promise, and I watched her naked ass as she headed up the stairs. “Are you coming, Master?”

“Hell, yeah!”

When we reached our bedroom door she told me to close my eyes. Smiling foolishly, I let my wife lead me into the bedroom. She positioned me on the foot of the bed. “Just keep them closed,” she admonished. I heard the bedsprings creak. “Okay, open them.”

I just about had a heart-attack when I opened my eyes. My wife was cuddled up to a gorgeous redhead named Kylie – Monica's friend and co-worker – who was just as naked as my wife. Monica had a grip on one of Kylie's full breasts, giving the orb a squeeze. Smiling like a wanton whore, Kylie parted her sleek thighs to reveal her shaved pussy, drenched in juices.

“I was so bad today, Master,” Monica confessed, an arched smile on her lips. “Kylie and I went to a motel room and fucked each other silly.”

My cock was rock hard, picturing my wife and Kylie fucking each other. I growled, “You have been bad. A good slave fucks her girlfriends in front of her Master, not alone in a motel. You'll need to be punished, Monica.”

“Oh yes, punish me, Master.”

“Master?” Kylie asked.

“She's my slave-wife now.”

Kylie gave Monica an appraising look, and my wife explained, “I'm going to be a good wife from now on, and give Jonathon whatever he wants.”

“And I want her to be my little slave.” I remembered that bondage rope I bought years ago; that was back when I thought I could convince my new bride to let me tie her up. “I'll be right back.”

I rushed down to the basement, and spent five frantic minutes digging around before I found the rope. When I triumphantly returned to the bedroom, the two women were kissing; I paused to watch. Monica was on top, and started kissing her way down Kylie's pale neck to suck on her nipples. I stripped out of my clothing as Monica made love to her friend's nubs, licking, sucking, and nipping gently with her teeth. Kylie purred in pleasure; her hazel eyes smoky with lust as she watched me undress.

“Time for your punishment, Monica,” I announced, snapping the rope taut, a twangy crack echoing in the bedroom.

Monica released Kylie's nipple and turned to face me, her eyes widening at the rope. “Of course, Master,” she submissively answered. I never loved her more.

I bound her hands behind her back, then I looped the rope up around her neck, not too tight; I didn't want to actually strangle her. Other loops were tied around her breasts, biting into her full tits around their base, and squeezing the mounds up like two, conical peaks topped with pink glaciers. Then I took the rope down her stomach and ran a length between her legs. The rope dug into her vulva, her pussy lips engulfing the rope, and then I passed the rope through her asscheeks. I used a loop around her waist to pull it very tight into her cunt and ass. Finally, I bound her knees and ankles together, before I dumped her onto the bed. She squirmed on her back, trying to find a comfortable position with her hands secured at the small of her back; her bound breasts jiggled delightfully as they were squeezed up by the tight rope.

“Have you always wanted to do this to me?” Monica asked.

I slapped her tit, watching the flesh undulate and wave her pink nipple about. “I have. And you look so cute all tied up.”

She flushed, “I'm sorry I never let you do this to me.” Then she giggled, “It's kind of exciting. Being all helpless.”

My cock was achingly hard. “It's kinda exciting seeing you all helpless.” I gave her tit another slap. “For your punishment, you get to watch me fuck Kylie.”

“Yes, Master.” A wicked grin appeared on her lips. “Fuck her hard.”

Kylie's eyes were on my cock. “Umm, I can't wait! I'm so wet and horny. Monica and I've been keeping each other revved up all day!”

“I want to fuck you doggie style.”

Kylie smiled and got on her hands and knees.

“No, kneel over Monica's face. Let her see your cunt up close and personal getting fucked,” I ordered, slapping Kylie on the ass.

She grinned at me. “That's wicked, Jonathon.”

I knelt behind Kylie, smacked her ass again, and she cooed in delight. Then I spread open her pussy, and shoved my cock in. Kylie was wet and tight. She felt different then Monica; her cunt gripped my shaft in different places as I fucked her.

“Wow, this is so wild,” Monica said. “I can see your cock driving in and out of her cunt, and your balls are slapping against her clit.”

Kylie panted and moaned, slamming her hips back into me, then she lowered her face to Monica's crotch. I grabbed her red hair and yanked her head back. “She's being punished!”

“Sorry!” panted Kylie. “Her pussy looks so inviting with that rope drawn tight between her lips. It's so obscene.”

I felt a tongue licking at my balls. She really was my submissive slave-wife. Monica would suck my balls into her lips, then they would pop out as I buried into Kylie's snatch, then she'd recapture them as I drew back. I fucked Kylie faster. I came a little while ago, but it wasn't going to take long for my second cum; Kylie's cunt was tight, and squeezed my cock like a pleasure vice. I pulled on her hair, yanking her head far back, and watched her lips open in pleasure.

“Pound my cunt!” Kylie screamed. “Fuck me hard! Oh, my God! Oh, my God! This is so fucking wild!”

“Suck her clit, slave!” I ordered. “Make her cum on my cock!”

I felt Monica's tongue move up my pistoning shaft, finding the place where my cock joined her friend's cunt. I could feel her face rubbing on the bottom of my shaft as she sucked Kylie's clit, her cunt tightening about my cock.

“Oh, my God! I'm going to fucking cum!” groaned Kylie, as her cunt started spasming about my cock, milking the cum out of my balls. I slammed into her, and dumped four blasts of sperm into her cunt. God, I hope she's on the pill.

“Fuck, that was amazing,” I panted, pulling out of Kylie's cunt. I wanted to fuck my wife's ass, but my cock needed a rest. I smiled, “Kylie sit on Monica's face. Let her lick you clean. But no touching Monica's cunt. She can't cum yet!”

“Umm, that's nice,” Kylie purred, sitting on my wife's face. I sat on the bed, stroking my wife's thigh as I watched her pink tongue slide through Kylie's slit, gathering up a gob of my cum. “Eat me, slave!” Kylie gasped, arching her back, and thrusting her lovely breasts forward. I leaned in, and sucked a hard nipple into my lips. “Your little slave has a delightful tongue,” Kylie cooed in my ear. “She loves to eat pussy!”

“How'd you two end up in a motel?” I asked her.

“Mark.” It was all Kylie needed to say. Whoever Mark was, he flipped the slut switch inside Monica, and I was happy to reap the benefits. I glanced at my wife, remembering the phone conversation, and the sound of my wife's voice. She had sounded like she had been exerting herself—like she had been getting fucked.

“Did Mark fuck you, Monica?”

“Yes, Master,” she quietly answered. “I'm sorry. I was a really bad wife.”

“While we were on the phone?”

“Yes. In the ass, Master.” she paused. “I don't know what happened. He just walked in and started giving everyone orders, and we all just did what he said. His voice was so deep, so powerful, like it reached into my soul, and made me happily dance to his tune. Even Mr. Willard danced for him; Mark ordered him to open the vault, and Mr. Willard just cooperated.”

“Wait, the bank got robbed?” A spike of concern stabbed my stomach.

“I guess,” Monica answered. “I mean, Mark asked for the money and Mr. Willard just gave it to him. He didn't threaten us or use a weapon or anything.”

Who was this guy? I wanted to be angry at him for fucking my wife, but he transformed her into this beautiful, submissive slave for me. I grabbed my wife's breast, and squeezed her nipple painfully hard until Monica cried in pain. “You are never to fuck another man without my permission, slave!”

“Yes, Master,” Monica squeaked.

“Don't stop licking Kylie, whore!” I pinched her nipple again. I should have grabbed some clothes pins out of the laundry room. Her fat nipples were perfect for clamps.

“Sorry, Master.” Monica quickly went back to eating out Kylie.

I released her nipple, then bent down, and sucked the hard nub into my mouth. I loved sucking on my wife's fat nipples; they felt great on my lips and Monica loved it, moaning like a whore into her friend's snatch. Her nipples were really sensitive; once, I made my wife cum just by sucking on them.

I played with both of them, using my lips on one, and my fingers on another. When I felt my wife's breath quicken as her orgasm drew near, I backed off, her frustrated moans muffled by her girlfriend's cunt. Monica's annoyance caused her to frantically eat Kylie's pussy until Kylie screamed, her body shaking, almost drowning my wife with pussy juices as she came hard; Monica just kept licking away like a good little slave. I never was a fan of girl-girl porn – I always thought the purpose of porn was to imagine you were the guy nailing the actress – but watching Kylie cum on my wife's face was the most erotic thing I had ever witnessed. I felt life return to my cock as Kylie kept shuddering on Monica's lips.

“No more,” Kylie complained, rolling off of my wife. “I'm just too sensitive.”

Monica's face was smeared with pussy cream. Kylie's juices had run down her cheeks and neck, and soaked the bedspread on either side of my wife's head. I leaned down, and kissed my wife gently on the lips, tasting Kylie's sour, spicy musk. I licked the juices down to my wife's ear, running my tongue along her earlobe and whispered, “I love you, Monica. Thank you for being my slave-wife.”

“You're welcome, Jonathon,” Monica sighed. “I love you, too.”

I kissed her salty tears then her mouth. “Time for the last part of your punishment, slave.”

“What?” she asked, wiggling on the bed. “I need to cum so bad. Please, Master, let me cum?”

I flipped her over, and slapped her butt. “I am going to fuck your ass. You can cum—if you are able to!”

I pulled the rope to the side, exposing her puckered asshole. I didn't lube her asshole nor my cock; after all, this was her punishment. She screamed in pain as I shoved my cock into her tight ass. It was wonderful; she was velvet rough, and tighter than a schoolgirl's cunt as I pounded away at her bowels, the bedsprings creaking loudly with the violence of my thrusts.

“You were a bad, cheating wife!” I yelled. “You deserve this pain!”

“I do!” she cried out. “I was such a bad wife! Hurt me! Punish me with your cock! Fuck my ass raw, Master!”

Her words spurred me on, and I fucked her ass hard and fast. I let the anger I felt at Mark for violating my wife take over. She groaned in pain with every thrust, and I just fucked her harder. How dare she let another man fuck her! I am her husband! I am her Master! The room was filled with her cries of pain, my grunts of anger, and the squeal of the bedsprings.

“Fuck me, Master!” There was pleasure in her voice. She no longer grunted in pain; the little slut was enjoying it. I pulled harder on the rope between her crotch, and her ass tightened as the thin cord rubbed through her slit. The rope grew wet, the hemp absorbing more and more of the moisture flooding out of her cunt. She loved the pain. She was my slave-wife!

“This ass! This cunt! This body is mine!” I roared.

“Yes, yes! I am yours, Master! Your most willing slave!” She came, her ass clenching about my cock like a vice. I kept fucking her; she kept cumming, one orgasm rolling into another.

“You'll do whatever filthy, depraved act I demand!”

“I will, Master!”

“You will defile yourself at my whim!”

“Oh, yes! Defile me! Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck! Use me! I'm just...shit...a thing! A living sex toy! Oh, damn! I live only to...uhhh...to please you, Master!”

Kylie was forgotten as I fucked my wife. We were both lost in the tide of lust. Neither of us heard the pounding on the front door downstairs, or noticed when Kylie got up; all that mattered was the pleasure my slave-wife's tight ass was giving my cock. My balls were boiling over, and Monica's spasming ass brought me closer and closer to cumming.

“You are my property!” I roared as my balls erupted, filling my wife's ass to the brim with my cum.

“Yes, yes, yes!” she panted over and over as I collapsed on her back. “Your property, your slave, your wife,” she sighed, a smile gracing her lips. I kissed her neck, and enjoyed the feel of my wife beneath me, submitting to me.

“Hey!” Kylie screamed and we looked up at her. “Jeez, you guys were really going at it. I had to scream like four times.”

“Yeah, we got carried away,” Monica sighed, a happy smile on her face. “That was the best sex I've ever had, Jonathon.”

“It was, cutiepie,” I agreed, kissing her cheek.

“Well, there are people knocking insistently at your door.”

“Shit,” I muttered, pulling out of my wife. White cum frothed out of her asshole; I smiled, admiring her submission, and gave her ass a slap; she giggled. I grabbed a bathrobe and headed downstairs.

There were two FBI agents on my porch. One was a fat, balding man in a cheap suit wearing a blue, FBI windbreaker. The other was a young woman, sandy-blonde hair in a bun, her eyes hidden by mirrored sun-glasses. She filled out her white shirt nicely, I thought, and was far too pretty to be an FBI agent.

“Um, can I help you?” I asked with a frown. What was the FBI doing here?

“I'm Special Agent Peterson and this is Agent Heinrich,” the man replied. “We need to speak to Monica Jephson.”

“I'm her husband, Jonathon. She's a little tied up right now.” It was hard to keep a straight face when I said that. “Can you come back later?”

“I'm afraid not, sir,” Agent Peterson answered. “There was a robbery at the bank where she worked today. We need to interview her.” He hesitated, shifting uncomfortably. “Your wife may also be the victim of a...um...sexual assault.”

God, I forgot all about the bank robbery. “Well, come on in, and I'll go untie her.”

“Untie...her, sir?” Peterson asked.

“She's my sex-slave,” I answered. “I like to tie her up.”

Peterson flushed, but an amused smile played on the female agent's lips, as she said, “We'll wait in your living room, if that's okay, sir.”

“Sure, sure,” I nodded, and headed upstairs. The fun might be over for tonight, but I had the rest of my life to explore my new, submissive wife.

I really need to thank this Mark guy. He deserves a medal for what he did to my wife!
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mypenname3000Report

2014-05-17 05:27:29
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