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The Patriots grow more desperate in their attacks.
The Devil's Pact
by mypenname3000
edited by Master Ken
Copyright 2013, 2014

Chapter Forty-Seven: Deadstick

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As Wormwood raged across the world, the chaos served the Tyrants interests. By January, Canada and Mexico had fallen under their control. As governments struggled to maintain control of their populations in the devastating wake of the plague, Warlocks arose. Men and Women who swore dark Pacts to Lucifer. Oppressed peoples and beleaguered governments turned to Mark and Mary Glassner. And the Tyrant's price was simple—submission.
–excerpt from 'The History of the Tyrants' Theocracy', by Tina Allard

Thursday, May 1st, 2014 – Mark Glassner – Air Force One, Over the Bering Sea

“My Lord,” Cindy, one of my maids, said through the door to my private cabin on Air Force One, “it is time for your broadcast.”

“Okay,” I yawned, rubbing my eyes. I lay sandwiched between Korina and Lillian, napping after fucking both sluts. I slid out of bed; Lillian sleepily cuddled up to Korina.

The last six months since the plague had broken out had been hectic, and I was flying home after a trip to Japan. I had to deal with a Warlock that had been trying to reinstate the Bushido code, and had conquered half of Japan. He was easy enough to attend to, I challenged him to a duel, and his blade was unable to penetrate my Celestial Gold armor. After he was dead, I spent a week in Japan and brought the country into the Theocracy. Warlocks across the world had taken advantage of the plague to try and carve out their own kingdoms. While the disease seemed to have finally run its course in April, there didn't seem to be an end to these Warlocks.

I wished my wife was here, but Mary was too close to her due date. She could give birth any day now, and had to stay home. She was busying herself decorating the mansion. It had been finished right before I flew out to Japan. I'm glad it was completed before our daughter was born so she could grow up in a proper home, and not the hotel we spent the last six months living in.

Korina, April, and Violet all bore their children in April. Korina gave me a son named Silas, named after her father, and April named our daughter Andrea. Violet's daughter, Delilah, turned out to be Mary's daughter, not mine. It was pretty obvious when we saw her green eyes. Mary had been so happy when she held little Delilah. She never said anything when Silas and Andrea were born, but I knew she was just the tiniest bit jealous that other women bore me children first.

I left my two sluts to sleep and passed through the main cabin. It was full of my servants. The fifty bodyguards that protected me in foreign countries; Leah, my chauffeur; ten or so maids, the women and teens that Willow recruited through her clinic; and a few former, female Air Force officers that ran the plane's systems. All the women were bound to me and sluttily dressed; chokers about their necks. Some were sleeping on the rather comfortable seats, while others were talking quietly with each other, playing a game of cards, or watching movies on portable DVD players.

'Masters', 'my Lords', and 'sirs' followed me up the aisle and I smiled at my servants. They were all beautiful, and my cock stirred as I admired an entire plane full of women who were all more than willing to please me. The boldest women would even reach out and give my cock a stroke, smiling archly up at me.

Once through the main cabin, I climbed up a tight stairs to the plane's communication suite where three women – dressed as sexy stewardesses with very short skirts and low-cut blouses – manned the equipment. All three used to be in the Air Force, retiring to serve me and run the gear. One of the women turned in her swivel chair, her mostly bared legs crossed. She had a small, predatory smile on her doll-face, framed by platinum blonde hair.

“Sir, we're all set for you,” she purred.

“Thank you, Roni,” I smiled. Her full name was Veronica, but everyone called her Roni.

She stood up from her seat, her naked ass flashing before her short, navy-blue skirt fell down. I sat down, and she plopped down on my lap, wiggling her ass against me. Her blue eyes were full of heat. My cock became rock hard beneath her ass, and I gave her a kiss on the lips. She rose up, grasped my cock and sat back down, sliding my cock into her juicy cunt.

“Umm, doesn't that feel nice, sir?” she asked, squeezing her cunt on my cock.

“It's alright,” I said as casually as I could.

“Hmm,” she frowned, rose up, and shifted a bit. When she came down this time, my cock pushed into her tight ass. Her eyes widened, and a soft moan escaped her lips. “How about this?” she asked, her voice an octave higher.

I smiled, “That's more like it.”

Roni handed me a headset, and I placed it over my head and adjusted it. Then she handed me a set of notebook cards. It was Polish written phonetically in English. I didn't know exactly what I was reading, but I knew the gist: worship Mary and me, obey our laws, do not make pacts with demons, love and respect your fellow human. Standard stuff, but if a person didn't speak English, our powers were useless on them.

Mary and I try to spend at least an hour a day doing these broadcasts, trying to put more people under our power. It worked; crime in the US has plummeted. Anyone arrested doesn't get released from jail without hearing our broadcast. All government employees had to listen to them, and public school students. There were still holdouts, of course, mostly Christians and Muslims who fled the cities for rural communes, but they were harmless and isolated. If it wasn't for Lilith and the Patriots, America would be a perfect country.

The Polish broadcast lasted 15 minutes. It was monotonous, and Roni became quite distracting before the end as she raised and lowered her tight ass on my cock, flashing saucy smiles over her shoulder, and cooing with obvious pleasure. I'm sure you could hear her moans over the broadcast.

“It'll be a few minutes before Germany is ready, sir,” Roni panted, bracing herself on the console to pump her ass on my cock. “However shall we pass the time?”

“Saucy, little whore,” I growled, and her grin deepened.

“For you, my Lord.”

She rode my cock, moaning loudly, still bracing her hands on the console. The plane shook, hitting a patch of turbulence, and she gasped as my cock was driven deep inside her tight ass. She let the rough air do the work, bouncing up and down on my cock for a minute as I sucked on her neck above the silver choker. My hand reached around her body and shoved roughly down her bodice to grasp her ripe breast.

“Oh, my Lord!” she gasped. “Your cock is driving me crazy! Is my ass pleasing you?”

“Yes, it is, slut!” I gave her tit a squeeze; her ass tightened on my cock as I rubbed my palm across her hard nipple.

A particularly hard turbulence dropped the plane a few feet and Roni nearly came off my cock, only the very tip still stuck in her ass, before she slammed back down hard on me. “Holy shit!” she cried out. “Yes, yes! I love your cock! Gonna cum!”

“Cum, my saucy, little whore!” I growled.

“Fuck!” she howled, and her bowels became a vice as she bounced up and down on my cock. Between the turbulence and her orgasm, she thrashed wildly atop me and stoked the fire in my balls. I grabbed her and shoved her down, holding her tight as I erupted three large loads into her ass.

I gave her tit one last squeeze, and said, “Nice fuck.”

“Thank you, my Lord,” she panted. “Umm, they're ready for you in Germany.”

“Good.” I gave her ass a pinch. “Get off and...” I looked at the other two communication sluts, “Ami, come suck my cock clean.”

“With pleasure, my Lord,” a petite Japanese slut said, a smile on her delicate face. Like Roni, she was from the Air Force, a Forward Air Controller.

Roni grunted as she slid her ass off me and took Ami's chair. The Japanese girl knelt before me and gently licked at my dirty cock, her almond-shaped eyes looking up at me. She looked younger than her twenty-seven years, and could easily pass for a Japanese schoolgirl. She looked so cute as she daintily licked my cock, a mischievous glint in her almond-shaped eyes. Roni handed me cards written in German, and I started reading through them.

By the time I finished my first commands, Ami had sucked my cock into her tiny mouth. It was so obscene watching her suck my dirty dick into her mouth and hear her purring moan. Her tongue felt wonderful, and half-way through my third reading, I trailed off and came in her mouth. She smiled up at me, licking her lips clean. I rubbed her short, black hair affectionately.

After Germany, I did the Spanish broadcast, covering Spain and much of Central and South America. Finally finished, I yawned. There was still another five hours left in the flight, and I walked back to my cabin to get some sleep. More of my servants were sleeping as I passed through the darkened cabin. The bodyguards had earned their rest, they had to be alert most of the time in Japan, and were finally able to relax on the plane ride home.

I found Lillian and Korina awake when I entered the cabin. Korina leaned against a pile of pillows, cradling Lillian's head to her breast. Korina's doll face was contorted in pleasure as Lillian's fingers worked her cunt. Between her fluttering eyelids, I saw her blue eyes; she smiled at me.

“Umm, my breasts were getting full,” Korina purred, hefting her left breast, a drop of white milk glistening on the dark red nipple. “Would you like to help, Master?”

Lillian looked up from Korina's other big teat, smiling lustily at me; white milk stained her lips. Her black hair, streaked with blue and purple highlights, fell loose about her shoulder. Normally she wore them in pigtails, but not to sleep. Silver piercings dotted her face: on her lip, her eyebrow, and nose. Both sluts were naked, wearing only their gold chokers.

As I crawled on the bed, Lillian grabbed my head and aggressively kissed me. Her mouth was full of sweet breast milk, her hand sliding wet down my torso, leaving a trail of Korina's pussy juices on her way to grasp my cock.

“Umm, doesn't she taste wonderful?” Lillian purred.

“She does,” I smiled, enjoying her hand stroking my cock. “I bet she tastes even better fresh.”

“She does,” Lillian purred.

Together, Lillian and I each took one of Korina's large tits. The pregnancy had swelled them from her D's to DD's and her nipples became redder. I latched on, tasting a trace of her sweet milk. I sucked; Lillian's hand still pumped away on my cock, while I enjoyed Korina's warm breast milk squirting into my mouth. I nursed, reveling in the delicious flavor.

My hand slid down Korina's taut stomach, down between her legs and felt her hot, wet, and shaved cunt. “Oh, yes, Master!” Korina gasped as I slipped two fingers up inside her, probing her wet depths as she writhed on the sheets.

Lillian jerked me off faster, her hands tight silk as she rubbed up and down. Korina's arm wrapped around my head, stroking my cheek as I kept nursing, swallowing mouthfuls of her sweet milk. My thumb found her clit and she bucked, went rigid, and gasped loudly as she came. I pulled my fingers out, smeared her musky juices on her nipple, and enjoyed some pussy cream with my milk.

Somehow, sensing I was about to cum, Lillian quickly moved down; her wet mouth engulfed my cock, and I filled her with my cum. I rolled onto my back, breathing hard and feeling tired after my cum. I lazily watched Lillian crawl up Korina's body, and share my jizz with the doll-faced slut. Korina slid down the bed, and Lillian straddled her face. Korina noisily began to munch her muff. I closed my eyes, and drifted off to sleep to the sweet sounds of women making love.


Noel Heinrich – Unalaska Island

The wind was cold, whipping off the Bering Sea as we stood on the lichen covered rocks of Unalaska Island, one of the larger islands of the Aleutians. I gripped a pair of binoculars, scanning the sky to the southeast, looking for Mark Glassner's plane. It would be easy to spot, since it was being escorted by a squadron of F-22 Raptors and accompanied by several C-130s and a KC-130.

“Where is his plane?” Davin asked. “I'm freezing my dick off.”

I glanced at the heavy-set, shivering, African American. “Why didn't you wear a jacket?”

“Didn't think it would be this cold, Noel. It's May for Christ sake. He better show up soon!”

“Maybe they had a headwind,” I suggested. Mark was flying back from Japan, and his flight path should take him over the Aleutians pretty close to where we were. We knew what time he took off from Tokyo; he should be flying over any minute now.

Mark had to be stopped. Soon. America was a shadow of its former self. Once we were strong and independent—we had freedom. Now most of the Country meekly did whatever he said. They were just drones, happy to follow his commands. There was no passion, no heart or soul anymore, just polite people. Mark had robbed the Nation of its will. Despair had broken my heart.

For sixth months we have been trying to kill Mark, and failed every time. He was powerful. He had more tricks up his sleeve then any of us were ready for. Even in the chaos of the plague, our best attempts had failed. We came close in February to taking out Mary, but we only managed to kill a few of their bodyguards.

Every day our cause grew more desperate. If one of their Thralls – and that was three-quarters of the country at this point – saw a person using magic, they would immediately call the Warlock 1-800 number and turn you in. Many of us lost loved ones during the Plague because we couldn't heal them without exposing ourselves. And despite our careful precautions, they were tracking us down one-by-one. Alison and Desiree, with their commando squads, were roaming the nation, capturing or killing any Warlocks they found. Ten of us had already been eliminated by those two whores.

“There they are,” Wyatt said. He was my old mentor from my FBI days, as well as my second-in-command of the Patriots. He had been very successful in the private security market, and his fortune helped to bankroll our operations.

I grabbed my binoculars and spotted the approaching planes. We wouldn’t have much time. The brazier was already lit; a greasy, black smoke rose thickly into the air. Drawn around the brazier was a circle and a pentagram along with many Hebrew markings—a summoning circle.

“Aerials, I summon you!” I shouted, mouthing the formula we found in De Operatione Daemonum. “Cloak your forms in smoke and appear before me!”

The smoke twitched, swirled about, forming into a black vortex. It grew wider and wider, then crashed into an invisible wall—the edge of the circle. A piercing, roaring howl grew and grew, full of anger and frustration as it pounded against the wall. The vortex swirled faster, then begun to break apart into smaller and smaller vortexes, contracting and shaping into vicious beings. The air crackled and eyes formed, white-yellow lightning. There were dozen of them, howling and chittering like monkeys as they swirled about the circle.

“Release us!” they boomed like thunder in one voice.

“I have a task for you,” I answered, putting all the authority and confidence I could muster into my voice.

“Release us! The pain!”

“No! You can rot in that circle!”

“What is your task?” their multitude voice snarled.

I pointed to the sky. “Take down Mark Glassner's plane!”

Muttered hisses crackled in the circle. “Agreed! Release us!”

I swiped my foot through the circle, breaking the plane. The Aerials, like a swarm of vaporous monkeys, shot into the air, cackling with laughter. There were innocent people on his plane, but I hardly felt any guilt. Anger had burned away my conscience. Freedom had its price. I was more than willing to pay it.

In fact, I already had. My hands could still feel the garrote.


Mark – Air Force One

A metallic, tearing sound shuddered through the plane, dragging me up from sleep. The plane rocked violently and fear clutched my heart. Korina hugged me tightly, panic shining in her blue eyes. I struggled to get up, tangled by my slut's panicked limbs.

“What's going on?” I muttered. There was another ripping noise and the plane shook violently.

“Everyone fasten your seatbelts,” Joslyn barked over the plane's PA. “We're experiencing some mechanical difficulty.”

As I headed for the door, there was another violent shake and I was thrown into the wall. “Fuck,” I muttered; a long cut oozed blood on my forearm.

The door banged open, reveling a pale looking 27. She was in command of the bodyguards on this trip; 51 was too far along in her pregnancy to travel. “Sir, there's...something on the wings, ripping off pieces of the plane,” she said, sounding calmer than she looked.


“Spectre.” The code word for minor demons—a Patriot attack. “Made of smoke, we haven't seen these kinds before. They're ripping the plane apart.”

I followed her up the fuselage, gripping the sides of chairs to stay upright as the plane shook and shimmied violently. Peering out of a porthole window, I saw what looked like smoke monkeys tearing into the wing, and more were on the cowl of the engines. Black smoke issued from one engine. Was the plane on fire? Adrenaline surged through me, a cold wave that sent my heart beating frantically.

“We need to get out there!” I exclaimed. “Shoot out the windows or something!”

“The plane's going too fast and we're too high up!” 27 objected. “A living person can't go out there. And even if we could hold on despite the speed, we can't breath at this altitude!”

No-one living could. “Tsalmaveth!”

The temperature in the plane dropped as the silvery mist sprang up and twenty-one figures coalesced out of the fog. Thanks to the Patriots, another six of my bodyguards fell defending Mary and my little sister in February.

“Master,” Chasity greeted with a smile. With her blue eyes, blonde hair, and Nordic cheekbones, she was the spitting image of a Valkyrie. “We'll sweep these vermin off the plane.” Ten ghosts went right, and ten others went left, passing through the hull of the plane out onto the wings. Karen stayed with me.

I bent down, staring intently through the window as the ghosts fired their silver 9mm's at the smoke monkeys. Through the airplane's fuselage, their gunshots sound like small pops. None of the spirits – or the smoke monkeys for that matter – seemed affected by the 500 mph wind rushing by them. Even when the plane would rise up and down in the air as the pilots struggled to keep us flying, the ghosts stayed in the same place on the wing like their feet were glued to it.

“Aerials,” Karen said, bending down next to me. “Lesser demons of air, Master.”

“Where did they come from?” I asked the ghost.

“From one of the the islands we're flying over.” Karen concentrated. “Unalaska Island. But the summoners have already fled.”

“The Patriots?”

Karen nodded.

Every time a silver bullet struck one of the smokey aerials whatever force animated their vapors let go, and a small cloud of black would zoom away from the plane. The aerials seemed to ignore the ghosts, instead focusing on ripping apart the plane.

“Why don't they fight back?” I wondered.

“They weren't ordered to,” Karen explained. “They were only commanded to bring down the plane.”

The right wing was cleared by the time Karen finished talking, and I crossed the fuselage to peer out at the left wing. Huge chunks of it were missing, exposing the hydraulics and wires of the wing's innards. I didn't see any of the aerials. The ghosts were firing at the back of the plane now.

Karen stuck her head through the side of the plane. “There's a few more on the tail.”

I heard worry in her words. “What?”

“There's a missing elevator, Master.” She looked at me with concern. “You should buckle up.”

I swallowed, sitting down and strapping in. 27 sat next to me and I reached out and grabbed her hand; she squeezed me back. The plane dropped, diving forward for a moment, the engines whining in protest. Everyone screamed, including me. The plane leveled for a moment, then pitched up and down rapidly, the fuselage groaning under the stress.

“It's not that bad, dieing,” Karen said with a comforting smile, sitting down on my lap, hugging me with her cold body. “It's like falling asleep.”


Joslyn – Air Force One

“Mayday, mayday, mayday!” I calmly broadcast over the radio, fighting with the control stick, pulling the plane out of the steep dive. I glanced at the altimeter, 20,750 and descending, but not as fast as we had a minute ago. “This is Air Force One declaring an emergency!”

“Copy your Mayday, this is Anchorage control! What is the emergency?” It was reassuring hearing how calm the air traffic controller sounded.

“I have one dead engine, and multiple control surfaces damaged, descending through angels twenty.”

“Engine three is on fire,” Lydia reported, reaching for the flashing red knob and pulling the fire extinguisher.

“Feather three,” I ordered, my hands gripping the yoke with a death grip. My right thumb keyed the radio button on the yoke, “Air Force One; we've lost a second engine. We need a bearing to the nearest runway.”

“Copy that, Air Force One,” Anchorage control responded. “Turn to heading 47, you're 102 miles out from Anchorage.”

Shit! “We'll try to hold it in the air that long. We've achieved stable flight for the moment.”

“Copy that. Coast guard has been advised and is sending a cutter if you have to put it down in the water.”

I glanced at Lydia. “Throttle up.”

“Raider 3 to Air Force One, your plane has been swept clean of the...uh...gremlins,” one of the F-22 pilots reported. “Be advised, you are missing the port elevator and I see a lot of damage to your flaps. Good luck.”

“Thank you, Raider 3.”

Ten years of flying planes, training in simulators, and I never thought I'd actually have to worry about gremlins ripping my plane apart. If it wasn't for all my training, I would be falling apart right now. I glanced at my co-pilot, and she was as pale-faced as I felt.

I keyed up the PA, “We're heading to Anchorage for an emergency landing. It's twenty minutes out; we may be ditching in the ocean.”

Things went relatively smooth for the next ten minutes. My heart never once stopped hammering as my eyes kept checking the PFD and EICAS panels every second. I had the yoke in a death grip, fighting to keep the plane leveled. There was a loud, shuddering clunk and then the warning lights started flashing—fire in engine one. Lydia quickly pulled the fire extinguisher and feathered the engine. I couldn't take my hands off the yoke, or we'd pitch down into the ocean.

The last engine whined, damaged by those fucking gremlins, and we slowed down. The whine seemed to grow worse and worse; the intake fan blades must have been damaged. Maybe a piece of the wing had been sucked inside. Ahead, the coast of Alaska grew larger and larger, the Alaska Range towering beyond, white and gray above the green forest. We crossed over land, coming closer and closer to safety.

Engine four gave one last, loud whine, then went silent. The only sound in the cockpit were the many warning alarms. “Are we gliding?” Lydia asked.

“Yes. Pitch for glide,” I ordered.

Lydia reached for the hydraulic controls and extended the flaps, maximizing our wing surface as we glided in. It was all up to inertia now. If we had enough air speed we could make it to the airport. Our altitude started dropping faster.

“There's the airport,” Lydia reported.

I keyed the radio, “Air Force One to Anchorage Tower.”

“We see you, Air Force One,” the tower controller radioed. “You're coming in a little shallow. Recommended you throttle up a bit.”

“We are deadstick, Anchorage.” No engines, no power.

“Well...uh...good luck, Air Force One.”

“Gear down.”

The ground was rushing up fast. The calm, monotone computer's voice announced our Above Ground Level: “500. 400. 300. 200.”

I glanced at the PFD; our airspeed was 173 knots. Too fast; a rough landing. Since we were coming in shallow, I wasn't sure if we were going to land on the runway, or in the grass before it, so I couldn't afford to slow down. “Assume brace position,” I ordered through the PA.

“100. 50. 40.”

I flared the plane and we touched down hard, the yoke jerking in my grasp. We both started flipping the air brakes, and I pushed on the break pedal. The plane squealed across the runway, the terminal growing larger and larger. We weren't slowing down enough; we didn't have the engines, so there were no reverse thrusters to help slow us down. And the end of the runway was coming up fast.

A loud, metallic, shearing sound shivered through the fuselage; the plane lurched suddenly to the left, off the runway. The plane's wheels hit the dirt, and the front landing gear folded. The nose dropped, and pushed into the ground. Clods of dirt and grass flew up like the bow wave of a ship, and we came to a shuddering stop.

“I think we're alive,” Lydia breathed. She looked out her window. “Holy shit! Half the right wing sheared off.”

I swallowed. That's why we lurched left, only the left wing had been providing drag. If the wing had failed while we were still airborne, we would all have died. I let go of the yoke and my hands shook as I massaged my palms. Off in the distance sirens blared, rescue coming.


Mark – Mall Field, WA

The backup VIP plane touched down safely at Mall Field, a new airport built by the Army Core of Engineers. With Seattle fallen to Lilith, Boeing Field was in her hands and Sea-Tac lay too close, so we had the airport built where the South Hill Mall used to lay before being bulldozed down last December. We had claimed most of South Hill for the Theocracy, as our empire was being called, moving out the residents. We were pouring resources into building up the seat of our government. Mall Field was half completed; temporary buildings had been erected to serve as the hangar and terminals, and only one runway had been constructed so far.

No-one was seriously injured in our crash landing in Anchorage, and within the hour we were airborne on the backup plane, an almost identical version of Air Force One. It was part of the fleet of planes that traveled with me, ready in case something went wrong with the main plane. The remaining flight down to Washington State was thankfully uneventful.

“Mark!” Mary shouted, waddling as fast as her pregnancy would allow.

I hugged her gently, cautious of her round belly pressing against me and not wanting to hurt our unborn daughter, then I kissed her and rested a hand on her belly. Mary's hand rested on mine, and baby Chasity gave a kick. “She's as excited to see you as I am,” my wife laughed.

I smiled, and wrapped my arm around her shoulder.

The women traveling with me were greeted by their loved ones. Leah was wrapped-up into a three way hug with her spouses, Jacob and Rachel, and one of the maids hugged her husband, who worked maintenance on our planes. Not wanting to split up couples, we found work for any of the maids' or other employees' spouses. Xiu embraced Korina warmly; the two sluts had become close the last few months. Violet found her girlfriend Cindy, one of the maids who accompanied me. April watched the pair with a disgusted look on her face.

From what I gathered, Violet and April started dating last August, but it all fell apart in February when Violet was caught cheating on April with Cindy. Since then, April has spent many nights crying on Mary's lap.

Jessica gave me a warm hug and a kiss, followed by April. Alison and Desiree weren't here, they must be out hunting down Warlocks. They only stopped in once every few weeks; both women had changed, becoming more graceful, lean, and confident, but there was a hard edge to them. After Desiree's rape by Brandon last September, both had a bitter hatred of other Warlocks.

“Welcome back, Master,” Violet smiled, pointedly ignoring April, and throwing her arms around my neck and kissing me.

Mary, the sluts, and I piled into the back of one of our armored limos, with Mary cuddling up next to me. April and Violet, shooting each other dirty glances, sat as far apart as possible. I was getting tired of it. I wanted my sluts to love each other. “April, Violet.”

“Yes, Master,” they said, almost in unison, then glared at each other.

“I want you two to sit next to each other.” Neither looked pleased as the sluts rearranged themselves. “Now, you both are slut-sisters, and it's time you forgave each other.”

“Why do I need to forgive her?” April pouted. “She cheated on me.”

“I'm sorry,” Violet whispered. “It's just there's something really special about Cindy. I didn't want to hurt you or disappoint you. I still care about you.”

“Whatev,” April muttered.

“April, she can't help whom she falls in love with,” Mary gently said. “You'll meet someone special and understand. I've seen the way Hayfa looks at you.” Hayfa was one of Willow's nurses, a willowy Arab woman who made the most delightful moans when she cums.

April glanced at Violet, and sighed. “Fine, I'm sorry for being a bitch to you.”

“And I'm really sorry for the pain I caused you,” Violet answered. “I just... I didn't want to disappoint you, but I ended up making it worse.”

“I think you two should kiss,” I said.

Violet turned to April, staring cutely at her and stroking April's bushy, brown hair, then she caught April's chin and kissed her on the lips. April sat stiffly for a moment, then she relaxed and kissed Violet back. I loved watching my two cute, innocent, schoolgirl sluts kissing.

April licked her lips when they broke the kiss. “Did you ever love me, Violet?”

“I thought I did, but then I met Cindy,” Violet answered, a smile blossoming on her lips. “Whenever I saw her, my heart would thud so loud, and whenever we're apart I would think about her. I was happy just being in her presence. We didn't have to be making love, or even talking; just being in the same room was enough. I realized I just lusted for you, April.”

“Wow,” April whispered. “That sound so intense.”

“It is,” Violet answered. “It's like”

“Completes you?” Mary asked, and smiled fondly at me. As corny as it sounded, I couldn't help but smile back at my wife.

“Yeah,” Violet grinned.

“Now that you two have made up,” I smiled. “Show me just how much you love each other.”

Violet gave a wicked grin, then she deftly unbuttoned April's white blouse – she was dressed as a naughty schoolgirl – and exposed her full breasts and dark nipples. A bead of milk formed as Violet caressed her nipple, then bent down and sucked some of the nerdy slut's sweet, motherly liquid.

“Oh, yes!” April sighed.

Mary rubbed my hard shaft, then reached across my lap and grasped Xiu's nipple piercing, yanking the Asian slut towards my shaft. Xiu gasped and smiled, then sucked my cock into her lips. I kissed my wife – she always liked to see that I was getting satisfaction – then I went back to watching the cute teens as I enjoyed my slut's sucking mouth.

Violet, also dressed as a naughty schoolgirl, had her blouse open now. Her breasts, still tiny A cups, beaded with milk as she nursed April's C cups. April had swelled up two cup sizes with her pregnancy, but Violet's had barely grown at all, though she could still produce as much milk as Korina. April gasped as Violet fingered her pussy beneath her red-and-green tartan skirt. The limo was filled with the heady aroma of pussy and the sweet scent of breast milk.

April pulled Violet's mouth up, and kissed her milk-filled mouth with passion, white liquid running down their chins. Watching one woman taste her own breast milk on another woman's lips was fucking hot, and I almost came in Xiu's mouth. The nerdy slut kissed down Violet's neck; it was her turn to taste Violet's breast milk. She cooed, running her hands through April's bushy, brown hair. April's cheeks hollowed as she nursed hard, bringing moans of delight from Violet.

“Yes, yes! Suckle, April! Drink my motherly love! I love it!”

“Oh, Mistress!” moaned Korina.

I looked over to see my wife nursing at Korina's heavy tit while the doll-faced slut fingered my wife's pussy. I grinned; this was the life! Lillian knelt before April and grasped a nipple, and sucked at the nerdy slut's tit, drinking her breast milk with noisy gulps.

Mary suddenly turned, milk on her lips, and kissed me. Sweet milk and her agile tongue filled my lips. It was too much. I came. Xiu swallowed, sucking the last of my cum from my dick as I kissed my wife and savored my slut's breast milk. I couldn't wait to try Mary's. My wife gasped into my lips, quivering beside me as her climax rippled through her.

Violet and April gasped and panted, taking turns nursing each other until they exploded on the other's fingers. They leaned together, panting, milk leaking from their red nipples and running white down their bodies. I leaned over and licked a trail up from each of them. Their breast milk all tasted slightly different: Korina was very sweet, April was mild, and Violet's had a richer flavor.

The limo turned onto the gravel driveway – only temporary – that led to our mansion. It was an imposing structure, made of dark wood and stone with a huge porch supported by basalt pillars, reminiscent of government buildings. It was three stories tall, with two, long wings, only two stories tall, flanking the sides. Gardeners were everywhere, landscaping the grounds, and stopped to kneel as our limo passed. Most of the gardeners were men that were boyfriends or husbands of the various women that served us: the maids, bodyguards, and technical staff.

A pair of maids waited on the porch and opened the door to the limo. “Master, Mistress,” they purred, curtsying. They were all so lovely, and I admired their breasts through their mesh bodices. I climbed out first, then helped my pregnant wife.

“Looking good,” I said as we walked in.

Mary had been busy decorating: paintings, vases, statues, and other art objects decorated the hallway as we headed to the east wing and our suite. We had our own living room at the entrance to our suite, a huge bathroom with a jacuzzi – those had become Mary's best friend in the last trimester of her pregnancy – a spacious bedroom, an office for me, an art studio for Mary, and a nursery for our soon-to-be born daughter.

The moment we entered our suite, Mary turned and kissed me with passion, her tongue eagerly probing my mouth. Her arms wrapped around my neck, hugging me tightly, and my hands found the hem of her dark-blue maternity dress, hiking it up and giving her plump ass a squeeze. It had been a week since I'd seen my wife, and we were both missing each other. We shared our dreams, but it was more satisfying in the flesh.

Mary broke the kiss so I could pull her dress over her head, then I took a step back to admire her naked body. She looked radiant. Despite her large, round stomach, she wasn't fat, and her skin had a lustrous shine to it. Her breasts were full, still perky, her areolas had grown larger, and a red tint darkened her dusky nipples.

“So beautiful,” I whispered.

“Even when I'm all fat and ugly?” she asked.

“You are not ugly. I missed you so much, Mare.”

She smiled, and asked, “Even with all those hot, little Japanese schoolgirls begging to be fucked?”

“Well, they did help ease my loneliness,” I said with a grin. “I should have brought a few home.”

“Yes, you should have,” she smiled. “I expect you to make it up to me.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

I kissed her, than picked her up and carried her to our bedroom, and gently set her down on the bed. Her hands found my cock and stroked it as she laid on her back. “Umm, I need a cock in me.”

“I think I can help with that.”

I laid down next to her, kissing her, my tongue probing her sweet mouth. I carefully leaned over her to keep my weight off her stomach, her hard nipples pressing against my chest. Her lips were wet, and very playful as she kissed me and nibbled on my lips, using her tongue to play with mine. I could feel some of the tension from the attack melt away. Her kisses grew more passionate as my left hand roamed her body. Her skin was silk and I enjoyed touching her all over, before my hand found her full breast, and gave it a squeeze.

“Mmm, I need you in me,” Mary purred, rolling onto her side.

Making love with a pregnant wife could be awkward, and we found it was most comfortable for Mary on her side. I grabbed a pillow and she slipped it under her stomach for support, then I spooned her from behind, her legs parting, and my hard shaft rubbed through her waxed pussy lips. I found the right angle, and drove slowly into her, savoring her tight pussy and her sweet moans.

“I missed your cunt,” I whispered in her ear as I slowly thrust into her sheath.

She grabbed my hand and brought it up to her breast, right on her hard nipple. I rubbed her nub, nuzzling at her neck. “Ohh, Mark! Umm, stir me up with your big cock.” I smiled; Mary loved to talk about my big cock, even if it wasn't that big of a dick. I drove it into her a little harder, and she gasped, pressing back into me.

I sucked at her neck as her cunt massaged my cock, and listened to her moans. I rolled her nipple between my fingers, and felt a little moisture on my finger as some colostrum – first milk – leaked out. Mary rolled her hips, awkwardly fucking me back; the pitch of her moans went up an octave. She was nearing an orgasm, and I slipped my hand from her breast down between her legs; I found her hard clit nestled in her damp folds.

“Yes, yes, yes! Oh, Mark! Oh, God, yes!” she cried out as she orgasmed, her cunt becoming a vice on my cock as her back arched back into me. “Umm, you did good, stud,” she purred over her shoulder at me, dimples appearing in her cheeks as she smiled.

I leaned over and kissed her lips, still driving my cock into her, my fingers still diddling her little pearl. “I bet I can make you cum harder.”

“Um, then you better start fucking me harder, my randy stallion!”

“Naughty filly!” I growled, and slammed my cock hard into her pussy.

“Oh, God, keep doing that and I'll explode!” she cried out. “Fuck me!”

My groin slapped against her ass, my cock enjoying every inch of her hot, velvety hole as it slid in and out. My finger ground a hard circle on her clit, lubed by her juices. The sweet, spicy scent of her arousal filled my nose, filling me with a heady, almost drunk feeling and spurring me to fuck her harder and harder. I was close to cumming, so I worked her clit harder. Every time I pinched her little nub, her cunt gave a pleasant squeeze on my cock.

“Fuck me, stud, fuck me!” Mary howled. “Make me cum! Ride your filly hard!”

I rode her hard. She exploded on me, her juices drenching my groin as her cunt convulsed on my cock, sucking the cum right out of my balls. “Fucking hell!” I grunted as I unloaded in her spasming sheath.

We were a sweaty mess as we cuddled on the bed, breathing heavily, and just enjoying each other's presence. I gently kissed and nuzzled her neck, brushing errant strands of auburn hair off her drenched cheeks. My hands slid up, and I massaged her shoulders.

“Ohh, that's nice,” Mary sighed.

“How's your back?” I asked her.

“Sore.” I slid away from her and started kneading my way down her back. “Lower,” she murmured. I complied, working the strain out of her lower back. “I think you missed your true calling.”

“What? As a masseuse?” I asked.

She gave a peal of laughter. “You're not a woman, Mark.”

I frowned. “What?”

“It's a masseur when it's a man,” she giggled. “And no, I was thinking of a gigolo after that fucking you just gave me. Emm, it was nice.”

I laughed. “You weren't half bad yourself.”

“Ohh, what are you saying, that I'm a whore?”

I froze. “Um, no, I didn't mean...”

She was laughing, a teasing look on her face. She rolled slowly over to face me, stroking my muscular chest, her smile fading. “You still feel tense. Lie on your stomach.”

Mary straddled my ass as I laid on my stomach, and she started giving me a massage, her hands surprisingly strong as she dug into my muscles. “Do you want to talk about what happened?” Mary asked, softly.

“The Patriots attacked,” I shrugged. “It happens all too often.”

“You've never felt this tense after one of their attacks.”

“I was helpless,” I admitted. “Just sitting in my seat as we limped back into Anchorage. The plane was shaking, the engines on fire. Joslyn thought we might have to ditch in the water.” I could feel the memory of that helpless terror bubbling up. “With all my powers, there was absolutely nothing I could do. I couldn't fix the plane. I certainly couldn't fly it. Fuck, Mare, it seemed like an eternity before we landed. All I could do was hold 27's hand.”

“Shh, it's okay,” she soothed, and I realized I was shaking.

“What if I had died, then you'd...” my voice trailed off. When Mary had made her Pact, she tied her life to mine. I had wished to live a long, healthy life and maybe that's why I've had so many close calls. But I never specified how long I wanted to live. Just a long life. Demons were crafty bastards, and it's possible I could die tomorrow and the Devil could just claim that he thought eleven months was a long life for a mortal.

“We're going to hell when we die, aren't we?” Mary's voice was full of fright.

“Probably,” I answered. “We made our choice, and one day the bill's going to come due.”

“What if there was a way to be immortals?” she asked, digging into my back. “If we never die, we never have to pay the price.”


“I had Sam look into it after Brandon's attack,” she explained. “The Magicks of the Witch of Endor hinted at the spell. Well, last night she called. She found the Eylowm ritual in the Dead Sea Scrolls.” Mary swallowed. “It involves our daughter.”

“Oh.” Our daughter?

“Because you're a guy. Like how you have to use your mom for the Zimmah spell. So when she grows up...”

“I see.”

“I'm sure she'll want to,” she quickly added. “And since I've tied my life to yours, well, we'll both benefit.”

“So nothing could kill us? That seems a little powerful.”

“Well, there is one person that could,” Mary admitted. “But I don't see what could make our daughter want to kill you.”

“Okay,” I answered. I smiled; we could sidestep the whole issue entirely. We just had to survive at least another sixteen years.

“What are we going to do about this new attack?” Mary asked after a moment of silence. “Should we abandon plane travel?”

“We need to speak to Sam. We have to find a way to keep those aerials off the plane.”

“I'll have...ohhh...”

“What's wrong, Mare?”

“Oh, nothing, I think little Chasity's excited, she's” I glanced over my shoulder, and Mary had a grimace of pain on her face. “Just some cramps.”

“Do you need anything?” I asked her.

“No, no, I'm fine.”

She kept massaging me, sliding down my ass as she kneaded my lower back. Mary groaned again. “Um, hun,” she said, a little excitement in her voice.


“I think I'm going into labor.”

I blinked at her. “What?” I asked, my mind suddenly racing a mile a minute.

“Yeah, I'm in labor.”

“Right. We need” My mind was completely blank. Women in labor go somewhere. I should know this.

“The hospital,” Mary offered.

“Of course. Right, the hospital.” Then I smiled. “We're having a baby.”


Sam Soun – Jerusalem, Israel

I yawned, careful not to exhale on the fragile scroll fragment before me. I sat in the study room in the Shrine of the Book, the wing of the Israel Museum built to house the Dead Sea Scrolls. It was a clean room, with atmospheric controls to keep the humidity, temperature, and pressure at just the right values to preserve the delicate books.

“ We...the knowledge...the hidden room...behind the red rock.” is what I thought the scrap of Aramaic read. There were several holes in the parchment, leaving the text incomplete. The Aramaic word used for 'hidden room' shared its roots with the Hebrew word Matmown. There had a been a number of fragmented texts pointing to a hidden vault somewhere. This was the first scrap that was intact enough to read a location.

“Candy, do you have the survey maps for Qumran?” I asked.

Candy pulled out her I-pad and tapped it a few times. “Here it is.”

I glanced at the screen, looking for anything that might be a red rock. I touched the screen at a large boulder on the survey map listed as red sandstone. “Did they ever do any ultrasounds or excavations in this quadrant?”

Candy frowned, and started reading through the notes. “No, it's pretty far from any of the caves. About a kilometer from cave 5. Why?”

“I think we need to take some survey equipment out there,” I told her. “I have a hunch that there's something there.”

“I'll go make the arrangements,” Candy smiled, and gave me a brief kiss on the lips, before turning back.

I rubbed my lower back, stretched, and pulled the next scroll fragment and began translating the faded Aramaic.


Friday, May 2nd, 2014 – Mark Glassner – Good Sam Hospital

At 12:03 AM our daughter was born.

She was so beautiful. 7 lb 2 oz and 16 inches long. Mary had been in labor seven hours, and we were both so happy to finally hold her, wrapped in her pink blanket. She was so light, and I kept staring into her face. She was so tiny, so cute, her little hands balled up into fists.

Chasity Alberta Glassner.

Mary smiled fondly at me as she rested on the bed, watching me pace back and forth, gently rocking our daughter. I missed my other two children's birth, but she was special. She was my daughter with Mary. She had my deep-blue eyes, and her mother's cute nose and auburn hair. The whole family had paraded in; both of our mothers had their turns holding Chasity, along with our sisters and Mary's dad.

Little Chasity started crying and I froze, not sure what to do. I glanced at Mary. “Maybe she's finally hungry?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I said, and gently handed my newborn to my wife.

Mary unbuttoned her gown, exposing her full breast and gently placed our daughter to her teat. A huge smile blossomed on her face. “She sucking, Mark.” There were tears glistening in her emerald eyes as she smiled down at Chasity.

I climbed on the bed next to my wife, cuddling with her and resting my head on her shoulder as I watched our beautiful daughter nurse. “We made her,” I whispered in awe. “Our own little miracle. And we didn't have to use any dark powers to do it.”


Wednesday, May 5th, 2014 – Noel Heinrich – Patriot Headquarters, Montana

“Innocents are going to die,” Wyatt pointed out as I went over my plan.

“They always do,” I admitted sadly. Innocents already had.. At least one. I touched the sword resting on the table. It was never far away, not after the cost... I pushed that memory out of my mind; dwelling on it wouldn't help. “It's our last chance to do something.”

“We could try summoning demons again,” Wyatt countered.

“If those demons we summoned couldn't crash his plane, what chance do they have against him on the ground?” I asked.

“None,” Wyatt admitted, a frown creasing his weathered face. “We should wait for another opportunity. One where there won't be crowds.”


“I don't know. What's his schedule looking like?”

I shrugged. “This is the only public appearance scheduled for a month. Our attacks have driven him to be secretive.”

“Then let's wait and see what his next appearance is like,” Wyatt cautioned. “The golems are indiscriminate.”

“And what happens if they find us?” I asked. Who'd have ever thought Alison and Desiree would be leading commando teams and hunting us down. Slutty, little Alison. Our members had been scattered about, supposedly safe thanks to our wish to mask our auras, but those two had killed a dozen of us.

“We fall back into the shadow,” Wyatt answered stubbornly. “They'll never find the fall-back site. It's not even in this country.”

“We're being hunted down like dogs. Those bitches of his keep finding us no matter how well we hide. Half the world is already part of his damned Theocracy, and I bet in a year he will have his fist around the entire planet.” I slammed my fist on the table. “We swore to do whatever it took to save America, to save the World! Do you want to back out now?”

Wyatt sighed. “Fine. God help us, we'll unleash the golems tomorrow.”

I snorted, “God can't help us. He already failed to stop him.”

Tomorrow, Mark Glassner's blood would water Liberty's tree.


Alison de la Fuentes

I was crouched on a low ridge overlooking a ranch in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, Montana. This morning, my dowsing had led my team of commandos and me here; the next Warlock for us to capture or eliminate. And not just one; according to the dowsing, there were multiple warlocks here. At least a dozen.

I hadn't spotted any Warlocks, but I had seen three Thralls with the auraculars, the enchanted binoculars Sam whipped up last November before she jetted off to Israel. They mimicked the Mowdah spell, allowing me to see auras like Master and Mistress.

You should be with Master, my subconscious whispered. I did wish I could be with Master and Mistress all the time, but this was too important. The Warlocks had to be stopped before they could hurt more people, so I ignored that voice like I had the last six months I had spent hunting the bastards down.

So far I had only see the three Thralls, all carrying heavy weapons, patrolling the collected buildings of the sheep ranch. They all looked military or law enforcement, and I had an excited feeling in my stomach. I think I just hit the jackpot!

“Mi Sirenita,” a beautiful voice whispered behind me.

I turned, and smiled to see that my wife had crawled up the hill. She was wearing scrub camos and looked more than a little butch. She joined me on the hill and I gave her a passionate kiss. It was a little awkward kissing her while we lay on our bellies, but I hadn't seen her since baby Chasity's birth last week. I missed my wife. Our prolonged separation had been rough, but there were just so many Warlocks that needed to be put down.

If you just stopped hunting Warlocks and went back to Master, you'd see her all the time. I was really tempted to listen to my subconscious, but our work was necessary.

“What is so important?” Desiree asked. “I was close to a Warlock in Portland.” There was a hard edge in her voice. Desiree positively hated Warlocks.

“I think I found the Patriot's headquarters.” I couldn’t contain the excitement in my voice. “I've taken out enough Patriots to recognize their phony Thrall auras. I've seen three on guard, and I have a predator drone orbiting overhead. Infrared shows another ten or so people milling around in the house.”

Desiree peered at the ranch with her auraculars. “Hmm, maybe. What's up with all the statues?”

One of the yards was filled with what looked like over a hundred statues that were roughly human-shaped, but built like tanks, and looked to stand nearly ten feet tall. They were made of the same red clay that was underneath all the grass in the area; there was a large pit in a field that had been dug out. I had no idea why they would build them. Cover for their base? Some sort of terracotta statue business?

“I'm not sure,” I admitted. “But if this is the Patriots, we have the chance to obliterate them!”

“So a joint operation?” Desiree asked.

“Yeah,” I smiled. “Sounds fun, huh.”

“Hmm, it sure does.”

To be continued...
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