The Devil's Pact - S01 E304

Story 3 months ago

The Devil's Pact - S01 E304

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 304

"Of course," Lucifer smiled. "Three wishes for your soul. A fair deal, I think."

"The same deal you gave Mark Glassner," I stated, angrily.

He nodded, unconcerned with my anger. "A remarkable young man."

"My first wish is for Mark to die."

Lucifer sighed. "Alas, I made an agreement with Mark for a long, healthy life. I can't just go and break my own deals. That is not good business. I think you could understand that, Mr. Fitzsimmons."

"What, I can't kill him?" I asked in surprise. "Even on my own?"

"Well, you can try," Lucifer shrugged. "He's already survived one assassination attempt. Of course, I never promised him a pleasant or comfortable life. Just a long one."

I frowned. Well, nothing worth doing was easy. And the thought of prolonging Mark's suffering, extending it for years and years, was a pleasant one. He deserved a lifetime of agony for his crimes. I was a careful man. I was prepared for this setback. I studied the Book, reading it over and over again, for the last twenty-four hours. If I wished for the ability to control people, there were limitations. Mark could just override my commands with his power or a Nun could hijack my Thralls. The only way to stop that was the Zimmah ritual, but I couldn't perform that spell without a living mother; she had been dead fifteen years. But, I had an idea to get around that

problem.

"Then, my first wish is to be immune to another person's control." I would never be under another man's control again. I would never sit by while a man steals my wife, fucks her in front of me, and sends me on my way like a fucking errand-boy.

Lucifer nodded. "A wise choice."

"Second, I wish for people to obey me unquestioningly." I took a deep breath. Hopefully, this would work. "For my third wish, I want anyone under my control to be bound to me by the Zimmah ritual."

The grin on Lucifer's face broadened. "How very interesting." He pursed his lips in consideration. "I applaud your strategy, Mr. Fitzsimmons. It has been a long time since I dealt with a mortal with such foresight. We have an agreement." There was a flash of scarlet light and a contract appeared in Lucifer's hand.

I took it from him, and read it very, very carefully. I wasn't about to get caught by some fine-print trickery. My three wishes were all clearly written just the way I had spoken them. The price was my soul, cheap enough; I was going to hell, anyways, I figured. "Agreed," I said and Lucifer held out an old-fashioned fountain pen and pricked my thumb. I signed in my blood and Lucifer signed in his.

"Well, III be going. Unless you have any questions, Mr. Fitzsimmons?"

I shook my head and there was a flash of scarlet and he was gone.

I did it! Relief and exultation flooded through me. I was Mark's equal, now. I licked my lips, realizing just what that meant. People were claiming that Mark was a God. Did that make me a God? Why not, Mark was just some dumb kid who barely knew how to use his powers. He could be ruling with an iron fist instead of playing at democracy. I would school Mark on just how power should be wielded.

The crack of the gun startled me. "Keep your hands up, sicko!" roared a man.

I looked behind me to see a man approaching from a rust-colored pick-up truck, a rifle leveled at me. He must be the farmer, I realized. I smiled; as if this man could harm me. I was a God. I could see someone behind him, standing by the truck, long, blonde hair streaming behind her in the breeze. My smile broadened; I hadn't had a woman in a month, not since Mark stole my Desiree from me. Time to use my wish.

"Freeze!" I roared and the farmer and the woman froze in place.

I strode forward in anger. The man had shot at me. He could have killed me! I could see the fear in the man's eyes as his body refused to move. He was an older man, late forties, his face was tan leather, his eyes a piercing blue. I reached the man, stared into his eyes. This was powerl I could do anything! No one can stop mel I glanced at the woman, she was young, maybe seventeen or eighteen, the same blue eyes shining with fear. She was frozen, too, wearing a flannel shirt, the tails tied together, exposing a flat, tan stomach. Well-worn jeans hugged her round hips.

I glanced at the man, "Kill yourself," I ordered and strode forward to the girl. I didn't flinch at the gunshot and I smiled at the horror in the daughter's eyes. I stroked her cheek. "He deserved to die," I told her. "He dared to shoot at your God. You shall be my whore, so kneel down and suck your God's cock."

"My Lord," the girl said in awe as she knelt before me. Her hands shook as she unzipped my pants. She trembled as she drew my cock out, stroking it between her gentle fingers. I moaned as her lips kissed the tip of my dick. I didn't remember the last time a woman sucked my cock. Desiree never would. That would change. Desiree would be the perfect wife no matter how many times I would have to chastise her. The blonde teen's mouth opened and I slid my cock in. Her teeth grazed my tip and I winced in pain.

"Stupid cunt!" I shouted and chastised her hard with the back of my hand, snapping her head back. "Watch the teeth, you stupid bitch!"

"I'm so sorry, my Lord," she whimpered and quickly sucked my cock back into her mouth. This time, her teeth didn't graze my cock.

I gripped her blonde hair and started fucking my cock into her sucking mouth. She was so wet and warm. I closed my eyes, enjoying the blowjob. My balls were boiling over, it wouldn't be long before I came. Gripping her head, I shoved her face down my cock until I felt the back of her throat. I held her head tightly, then roughly shoved my cock down her throat until her lips kissed my cratch. She struggled, gagging and choking on my cock as it filled her throat. Her arms flailed as I fucked her mouth. Shit, this was so fucking amazing! This was power! I could feel my balls tighten and I shot my cum down her throat.

She lay coughing on the ground, her face red as she struggled to breathe. "You pleased me," I told the girl.

"Thank you, God," she answered, reverently.

"What's your name?"

"Ashley."

"Well, Ashley, you get to be my first..." What was that word. "My first concubine."