Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 357

"Fucking slut!" I moaned. "Your dirty ass feels so good on my cock. I'm going to shoot so much cum up your ass!"

Mary's back arched her perky breasts heaving like a rearing horse, majestic, beautiful as she orgasmed. She screamed wordlessly, and I could smell the strong scent of her arousal as she flooded Violet's lips with girl-cum. I felt Violet's ass squeezing my cock, the little slut cumming about me. I pounded her ass a few more times, closing my eyes as I reached the pinnacle of my pleasure, then groaned as I exploded inside her ass.

"Thank you Master, Mistress," Violet panted as I pulled out of her

I lay down next to my panting wife, pulled her to me, and kissed her. Violet started licking at my dirty cock, like a good little slut, and I closed my eyes and the exhaustion of the last weekend fell upon me like a ton of bricks.

"Master," a voice said, shaking my leg, waking me up. I had been out like a log, and now I was disoriented. The sun had set while I was passed out, the hotel room dark as sin. A glanced at the clock it was close to midnight. Mary was sleeping on one side of me and Violet was curled up on the other side. 51 was standing at the foot of my bed, naked and an M16 slung over her shoulder.

"What?" I asked sleepily.

"Your family has arrived," 51 reported. "They've almost passed the crowds. There are thousands crowding the streets. It's like St Peters Square out there."

"Thank you, 51," yawned, shook Mary awake, and gave her a kiss.

I led my wife to the suite's balcony, wanting to see the crowds. It was a cold, clear September night and our flesh pimpled. Mary shivered then concentrated and flames danced around her; she smiled. The flames didn't burn me, but they would burn someone else, as poor 51 learned earlier today after we exorcised Brandon. I hugged my wife to me, enjoying the warmth licking my body, and we gazed down at the streets.

They were filled with people for blocks, many with candles, lighting up the streets like the starry sky. These were the people we needed to protect. Molech warned me that Lucifer was up to something dangerous, something I would oppose. Is this the secret Mary learned? Well, if I started something when I made my Pact, I had the responsibility to fix it, to make the world a better

place. A world where people didn't hurt each other, fear each other.

I would give the world love and peace. Utopia.

Alison de la Fuentes

I trembled with excitement when the SUV finally made it through all the crowds of people that clogged the streets of Tacoma. April sat next to me, the nerdy teen squeezing my hand, just as excited as I was, eager to see her girlfriend Violet. The two, shy teenagers, bonding with their shared pregnancies, had become quite the item lately. I'm sure Master hasn't noticed a thing.

After spending the weekend worried sick not only about Master and Mistress, but about my wife, Desiree, I was so excited to be reunited with her. Watching her on TV yesterday, hanging on Brandon's arm, filled me with fear. Desiree was smiling and seemed happy, but I could see the fear in her eyes, the tightness in her lips. The bastard did something to her to make her cooperate.

We passed a cordon of soldiers and then we were in front of the hotel. I threw open the door, racing into the lobby. Master and Mistress were waiting and I ran to them, hugged them, and felt so happy when they kissed me on the lips. You should always stay near them, my subconscious whispered.

"It's good to see you, Alison," Master said to me, stroking my face.

I was about to ask where Desiree was, when April pushed me to the side to hug our Masters. And then everyone else burst in, and I drifted out to the side as Jessica, Xiu, Korina, and Lillian were eager to embrace them too. Then their familles arrived: Master embraced his mom and sister, and Mistress shared a group-hug with her family.

I strained my neck, looking around the lobby. Leah - Master's chauffeur, she had been captured by Brandon as well - had a joyful reunion with Rachel and Jacob, her spouses. But where was my Desiree? I looked around, a pit forming in my stomach. My breath quickened. Where was my Latin beauty?

I wormed my way to Mistress, trying to stay calm. "Upstairs," Mistress told me, sensing my question. "In our suite. Top floor."

"Thank you, Mistress."

I raced to the elevator and smashed my fingers onto the up button furiously. I stared at the display that showed which floor it was at, watching the numbers slowly grow lower as the elevator descended. I wanted to scream at the stupid thing, I was so wound up inside. I needed it to come down. I burned inside to see my Desiree. Finally, the elevator dinged, the doors opened, and I shot inside. I pounded the 17th floor and then just repeatedly mashed the door close button. I screamed in frustration as the doors just seemed to refuse to close. Slowly, ever so slowly, the doors finally slid closed, the elevator lifting me up.

It seemed to take an eternity. I was practically yelling at the stupid thing to go faster. I felt red-faced when I reached the top floor. A bodyguard, 27, stood naked an M16 clutched in her hand before a door at the end of the hallway. 27 smiled tiredly at me as she opened the door with the keycard. There were three bedrooms in the suite, Desiree was in the second one I tried.

My wife sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the ground. Empty alcohol mini-bottles littered the floor. Her neck was bare, her choker missing. "Desiree!" I shouted and sat down next to her and wrapped my arms around her. Desiree pushed me off.

"Go away," she said, slurring her voice.

Her words stung. I had expected a tearful, happy reunion. "No," I told her, cupping her face. "Talk to me."

She tore her face away. "Don't touch me!"

"Why?" I asked.

Desiree ignored me, instead standing up and wobbling to the minibar. I stood up and grabbed her hand. "You've had enough to drink, Desiree."

"Leave me alone, Alison," she pleaded, slumping to the floor.

"Just talk to me," I told her, kneeling down next to her. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong. I just don't want you anymore."

Her words hurt. Fuck her my subconscious whispered inside me. You can do better than her, let the stupid cunt wallow drunkenly. Go find Master and fuck him! That was just the pain of Desiree's words talking, and I pushed them down. My subconscious had a nasty streak to it learned growing up, but that wasn't important;

nasty streak to it I learned growing up, but that wasn't important; something was wrong with my wife. She was in pain, lashing out blindly. I needed to get through to her somehow. I couldn't let that monster steal my wife from me. Not without me putting up a hell of a fight for her.

Is she really worth it? whispered my subconscious. I ignored the voice; of course Desiree was worth it.

So I laughed dismissively at Desiree. "Don't lie to me," I told her, pulling off my tight T-shirt, baring my lovely breasts and my hard nipples pierced with silver barbells. I grabbed her face and turned her to look at them. I could see her eyes flick down to my nipples, a momentary flash of lust. "Don't lie to me and tell me you don't want me. I know you do. Just like I want you, Desiree."

That was the wrong thing to say.

Desiree grabbed me and pushed me onto my back. "That's all you want. My body!" She yanked the baggy shirt off, exposing those magnificent breasts of hers and shook them at me. "Here it is, Alison. Use me! Take your pleasure!" Tears started running down her face. "That's all I'm good for!"

"No, I don't want your body," I told her. "I want you. I love you."

"How can you love such a filthy, disgusting creature like me," Desiree sobbed. "I let him touch me. He...used every part of my body. I let him! let that monster make me his whore! I betrayed you, Alison!"

"Shh, you didn't betray me, Desiree. You did what you had to, right? He was going to hurt you." I hugged my wife, and she sobbed and sobbed into my neck. I don't know how long I held her, stroking her hair, letting her pour out all her pain, anguish, fear. I held her and rocked her and cried with her until she had poured every teardrop left in her. I wished Brandon was still alive so I could kill him myself.

Fucking Warlock! You should hate all the Warlocks, my subconscious whispered. Every last fucking one of them!

"I love you, Desiree," I told her. "You're my slut-wife. Forever."

"How can you still love me?" she demanded of me, her bloodshot eyes peering hopelessly at me.