The Devil's Pact Pt. 12

I drank them down.

We devoured each other's cunts. Feasting on pussy juices, sucking on clits, and fingering wet holes. Her juices covered my face, her scent filled my nostrils. I enjoyed playing with her piercing with my tongue, sucking it into my mouth. Twice more she came on my greedy lips, bucking and writhing beneath me. I only came once more on her lips, but it was powerful, starting deep inside my womb and exploding out with fervent gush of my juices on her lips.

When I was sated, I rose, scanning the room. Violet and Fiona were cuddled on the floor. They both broke away, stood up, and kissed me, savoring the taste of Bonnie's cunt from my lips. I cupped both my sluts breasts, giving their nipples playful twists before we all dressed.

"So, you will get my dress done as soon as possible?" I asked.

"Oh, yes," Bonnie panted. A lustful smile crossed her lips. "I can't wait to get it finished so we can have the first fitting!"

"Absolutely," I agreed and kissed Bonnie on the lips.

Chapter Seven

Deceived by the false god Brandon, the forces of the FBI descended on the Living Gods in the cover of night.

--The Gospel of April 16:27

Sister Theodora Mariam -- Miami, FL

I sat at the Marriott's bar, with the oh so original name of the Lounge, looking for the guy I was supposed to practice this new Prayer on. Ramiel said I would know the man when I saw him. So far, nothing had jumped out and I nursed my appletini as a parade of men hit on me. I let Providence guide me here, jumping into the first cab and told the drive to take me to a nice bar.

And now, for the last hour, I had been sitting at the bar. I wore a slinky little dress, made of small, pleated black strips. Silver thread was woven into the fabric and the dress would shimmer as I moved. The neckline was a scoop that exposed most of my breasts and a short skirt that showed off my long, shapely legs.

"What the hell, Natasha?" a man shouted at the end of the bar.

"Chill, babe," a dirty-blonde said. She was sitting at a table with two young, Cuban guys. "We're just talking!"

"The hell you are," the man objected. "I saw you flirting with them."

"We were just talking, Keith!"

"I saw your hand on his leg!"

"Hey man, it's like she said, we were just talking," one of the Cubans said.

"Back off asshole," Keith shouted.

"Christ, you're drunk," Natasha accused.

"Of course I am! I've been watching you whore around the bar all night!"

Natasha slapped him hard across the face and then stalked out of the bar. The two Cubans looked awkwardly at each other then left. Keith just stood their looking dumbfounded. Then he sat down at her vacated seat.

I moved over to the table, sitting down beside him.

"It'll be all right," I told him, lightly touching his hand. He was definitely the one I was here for.

Keith snorted. "We're supposed to be married in two days."

"Congratulations," I said, stroking his arm. "She's a lucky gal."

"She's probably blowing one of those guys right now," he bitterly said. He grabbed Natasha's drink, a fruity concoction with an umbrella, and downed it in a single gulp.

"You don't really think that," I told him. Christ, what a jealous asshole. "What woman would want one of them when she could have such a handsome guy like you."

"Then why was she flirting with those guys," he asked, his anger vanishing. "Why?"

"Some women don't know what they're missing. If I was her, I would be draped all over you, making sure no other women could do this." Feeling bold, I reached down and stroked his cock through his pants.

"Holy shit!" he gasped, finally looking at me. His eyes widened as he saw my cleavage and he licked his lips.

"I bet she's sucking one of those guys right now," I lied, whispering in his ears. She probably was crying in her hotel room, but that wouldn't get Keith into my panties. "Maybe she's sucking one off while the other fucks her cheating, little cunt." Keith groaned in pain. I rubbed his hardening cock. "Doesn't seem fair, does it?"

"No," he answered with a hoarse groan.

"I'm going to go into the men's room, last stall. If you want to even the score."

I left him there, walking purposefully towards the bathroom, making sure my ass swayed as sensuously as possible. I didn't look back. He would follow; men were so pathetically easy. I strolled boldly into the men's room. There was no one to object, anyways, and I entered the last stall and waited, my heart pounding in my chest. I hiked up my skirt, pulled off my panties, and bent over the toilet, ready to get fucked.

The bathroom door banged open and someone walked down to my stall. There was a knock. "Are you...?" Keith stammered.

"Yes," I answered with a husky moan, my pussy getting wet.

"Oh, God!" Keith moaned when he opened the stall door and feasted his eyes on my blonde-furred cunt and plump ass.

There was the metallic sound of a zipper and then I could feel him standing behind me. I wiggled my ass invitingly and could feel the head of his hard cock prodding my ass. He was breathing heavily, hesitating to fuck me. God, why won't he stick it in. My cunt was on fire with anticipation. He gripped my hips, suddenly, his cock sliding down my ass towards my cunt.

"That whore!" Keith shouted and shoved his cock hard into my cunt.

"Oh, fuck!" I gasped. He was big.

His cock was thick, stretching me open as he thrust deep into my depths. I shuddered, loving his fervor. He fucked me hard and fast, his groin slamming into me. He stretched me open. It almost hurt, the ache mixing with the pleasure of his cock rubbing against my sensitive pussy walls. The slap of our flesh echoed through the stall.

"Fucking whore, spreading her legs for those guys!" Keith gasped. "Sucking their cocks. I bet she swallows their cum!"

Keith picked up the pace of the fucking. My tits bounced about in my dress from the force of his fucking, and my left tit popping out of the bodice. I wanted to grab my tit and play with my nipple, or slide my hand down and rub my clit, but Keith was fucking me so hard I needed both my arms to brace me against the wall.

I loved it. The pleasure churned inside me.

"Whore, whore, whore!" he kept muttering. "I bet she's letting him fuck her in the ass ass. Natasha never lets me in her backdoor!"

Fuck, I don't blame her. Keith's cock was huge. I couldn't imagine taking something that big up my ass. My orgasm hurtled towards me. And at the speed he was pounding me, he wouldn't be too long. Something tickled my mind, bleeding through the fog of bliss filling me up.

There was something I had to do.

"Why are you such a whore, Natasha? I just want to love you! Why do you drive me crazy?"

"You're obsessed with her," I groaned.

"Yes! How can I not be? She's so vivacious! She's intoxicating! I'm obsessed with Natasha.

Obsessed...

And then Ramiel's words came back to me: When they orgasm, whisper Avvah into their ear followed by the name of the person you wish them to have him form the obsession with.

Shoot, I wasn't in the right position. "Stop," I gasped.

"What?" he groaned, still hammering me hard.

"My arm's are tired, let's switch positions." They were actually tired. Keith was fucking me so hard my arms were getting sore holding this pose.

I pulled away from him and then leaned up against the stall wall, the painted metal cold on my ass. Keith grabbed my freed tit, squeezing it clumsily, and then his cock was prodding at my pussy. I grabbed it and guided the monster back into my tight, sore hole. I gasped as he shoved back in and he pounded away.

"Are you gonna cum in me?" I whispered into his ear. His groin was crushing my clit, every press of flesh on my clit building my orgasm. "Flood my hot little pussy with your sticky spunk!"

"Oh, God, I am!" he gasped. "Sorry, Natasha!"

I felt the first squirt of his cum shoot inside me. "Avvah Natasha!" I hissed in his ear, my orgasm threatening to spill over me. "Avvah Natasha!" I let my orgasm roll over me as the prayer rushed out of me into him. I shuddered in his strong arms as his cum shot inside me, delightfully filling me up.

Keith pulled away, a blank look falling across his broad face as the Prayer took effect. Breathing hard, I grabbed a ball of toilet paper and began to wipe myself clean. I threw the cum-stained paper into the toilet and flushed it, then looked around for my panties. As I pulled my panties back up and popped my tit back into my dress, Keith shook his head, coming out of the trance. He took one look at me and looked so crestfallen. He stumbled out of the stall.

I followed him out, and he was standing at the mirror looking at his reflection with disgust. "Why?" he muttered. "Shit, why did I do that?"

Feeling a little guilty myself, I walked over to him and touched his arm. He flinched away. "You know she was only flirting with those guys to get your attention. I bet you were watching the game instead of her."

"So, what now?" he asked with desperation.

"Go to her room," I urged. "I bet she's waiting for you to come up and apologize and make up with her. I get the feeling that she's a bit of a drama queen?"

He snorted. "Yeah." He hesitated. "But what about us?"

"What about us?" I asked. "It was just some harmless fun. You're not married yet."

"Yeah," he said. I could seen him rationalizing the cheating, lying to himself. "It's not really cheating unless your married."

"Right," I answered.

My mission finished, I left the bathroom and spent ten frustrating minutes trying to hail a cab. Finally, I managed to flag one down. "The Sunny Beach Motel," I told him.

"Sure ting, Miss," he said in a thick, Haitian accent.

A minute into the ride, I felt a weird sensation in my pussy. It was like the memory of an orgasm. My body didn't have an orgasm. There were no muscles contracting, electricity shooting through my body, or any delicious shudders. It was almost like my body was remembering the sweet feeling of release.

"The Prayer of Avvah has been completed," Ramiel's voice whispered out of the darkness. I shuddered as invisible hands caressed my body through my dress. "Keith and Natasha have known each other and the Bond of Avvah links them. Never again will another excite them sexually."

Ramiel's hands traced up my side and grabbed my breasts, kneading the pliant flesh, pinching my nipples. I bit my lip to stifle my moan as an orgasm rippled through my cunt. I could feel his cock pressing at my tight asshole. No, not in the back of the cab! I tried to open my mouth to protest but instead I let out a steady moan as his cock sank into my ass.

The driver glanced in the mirror, concern painting the rich black of his face. "You 'kay, Miss?"

I wanted to answer, but the Ecstasy of Ramiel rolled over me and my senses faded away, leaving only the pleasure of his cock in my ass. It was soon joined by the pleasure of a cock in my pussy.

Both cocks pumping away, bringing me to the height of pleasure. I was lost in the sea of sensations, a never ending orgasm that became stronger and stronger, a wave building and building before it crashed upon the shore. And then hot sperm was shooting into my ass and the largest orgasm yet rippled through my cunt, my ass, my soul.

The cock in my ass withdrew and my sense slowly returned. The feel of vinyl seat sticking to my naked ass, a cock pumping in and out of my pussy. The sour smell of sweat and tobacco. The sound of a man grunting, of flesh slapping on flesh. I opened my eyes to see the Haitian driver over me, fucking me hard.

I was laid out in the backseat of the cab, my legs wrapped around his waist. His cock felt nice in my sore cunt. He was smaller than Keith's monster. "Bouzin sal!" the driver gasped as his warm cum spilled inside me and another orgasms spasmed weakly through my body. The Haitian pulled out of my cunt. "You one dirty bitch!" he said, his big smile revealing yellow, tobacco stained teeth. He put his wet cock away and got back into the driver seat.

As he drove away, I sat up in the cab. My panties lay on the floor and I slipped them back on. My tits were out, both wet with spit and I pulled my bodice back up. When we reached my motel the cabbie still asked for the fare.

I didn't bother tipping, his leer told me he got all the tip he needed.

I walked up the stairs to the second floor landing, fishing my key out of my purse, and started to think. I now knew I could perform the Prayer of Avvah. I just need to figure out how I could get Antsy into bed with me before she leaves Tuesday morning. That gave me five days to figure it out.

Plenty of time to turn her into a trap for Mark Glassner.

* * *

Brandon Fitzsimmons -- Buckley, WA

I picked up the phone. I had everything ready. This would be the last call I would make on this cell phone. All day, Desiree had been calling. Mark was looking for me. I had finally finished moving money around. I had more than enough to survive off of, and Mark would never be able to trace this shitty apartment to me.

My next move was a gamble. Mark could become even stronger, but if it paid off, Mark wouldn't be a threat any longer.

"FBI tipline," a bored man answered, he was fighting a yawn.

"Uh, yeah," I said, pretending to be nervous. "Um, hi."

A keyboard typed in the background. I bet the FBI guy was tracing my cell phone and knew exactly who I was. "How can I help you, sir?" the operator asked.

"I have a tip on the terrorist, Mark Glassner." I wiped my sweaty hand on my pants.

"Okay, what's your name, sir?"

He had to know my name, but I bet he was trying to keep me at ease.

"Uh, Brandon Fitzsimmons," I answered. "Listen, this guy, his name is Mark Glassner. He's...shacked up with my wife."

"Uh huh, and what's your wife's name?"

"Desiree." I paused, pretending to be scared. "This guy, Mark, he's a bad guy. Really dangerous. He's got lots of weapons. He's showed them to me. He boasted about how he would love to kill a cop. I wouldn't take any chances with him."

"Really, and where is he staying?" the operator asked, an excited catch in his voice.

"At my house 2936 Mountain View Terrace SE, Puyallup, WA 98374. He's really dangerous."

* * *

Agent Noel Heinrich -- South Hill, WA

The pounding on my door woke me up. I had just lied down. I hated sleeping in hotel rooms, even if this one wasn't bad. Peterson wanted us up in South Hill in case we got a hit on Mark. The SWAT Team was bunked up in the hotel as well, ready to go at a moment notice.

I opened the door.

"Yeah?"

"We just had a tip called into the hotline on Mark a few hours ago. A man, Brandon Fitzsimmons, called and said his wife was shacked up with Mark at his house."

"Really?" I asked. "How solid is the tip?"

"I've been doing some research since they finally passed the tip on to me." Peterson's face was tight. Some pencil pusher probably didn't want to wake us up and didn't send us the tip right away. "Wife's name is Desiree Fitzsimmons. I found a Facebook page belonging to her." He brandished a printed sheet of paper. I recognized the woman. She was one of the unidentified women that was with Mark at the Mall yesterday. "The tip also says Mark's heavily armed and looking to kill cops."

"No chances," I said. "Let's wake up the SWAT and a judge. I think we need a no-knock warrant. Let's hit him while he's sleeping."

To be continued...