1. The Devil's Pact, Hell Chronicles Chapter 4: The Tyrants


    Date: 8/27/2015, Categories: Fantasy, Domination/submission, Female/Female, Group Sex, Lesbian, Male / Females, Male/Female, Non-consensual sex, Violence, Author: mypenname3000, Rating: 71.4, Source: sexstories.com

    dressed in slutty parodies of cop uniforms. They watched their God step forward, their bodies tense. They feared his death. He could lose. I smiled behind my mask. Today, Japan would be saved. “You honor me with your presence,” I said in English, bowing low. Mark bowed back. “It is refreshing to deal with such an honest opponent. I accept the terms of your duel.” I straightened, slipping into my stance, my hand on my sword hilt. His eyes narrowed through the slits of his armor. The Living God was unaware of iaijutsu—the art of the fast draw. And I was a master of it. I would end this duel with a single stroke. In the span of a heartbeat, I could draw my blade and deliver a killing blow that would carve through his soft, gold armor. Japan would be mine. The Living Good strode forward, rising his sword to deliver a cutting below. He stepped into my reach. I drew. My blade rang as it slid from the sheath. The resistance of the sharp blade against the bamboo sheath added a spring-like effect, snapping my blade forward out of the sheath and moving it at incredible speeds and force. My blade hit his armor. And bounced off. The force jarred my hand numb. Mark's sword slashed down. I recovered, retreating back, his blade catching on the edge of my sode, the plates protecting my shoulders. The gold blade parted through the steel sode like it was thin silk and hit my bare skin. Fear curdled in my stomach. That armor wasn't gold. “Sorry,” the Living God said, “but I don't play fair.” ...
    I was the greatest swordsman in the world. I had made my Pact. And yet my skill hardly mattered if my blade could not hurt his armor. His blade could bite through mine like it was rice paper. He wielded it with skill and strength. Despite carving through my armor, the blade never cut my skin, leaving only painful bruises. Whatever magic imbued it kept it from harming my flesh. Not that it mattered. As good as I was with my katana, I couldn't stop every blow from landing. Especially not after his sword cut my katana in half like it was made of bamboo and not steel folded over a thousand times. I had lost. There was no way I could defeat him. I knelt as my ruined armor fell of my body. I gave one last glance at my concubines. They watched with stoic poise. I knew then, even if we weren't bound by the Zimmah ritual, they would commit suicide to join me in death. One of Mark's bodyguard's strode up. Mark took her sidearm and placed its barrel against my forehead. Shame filled me. I was not strong enough to save Japan. The gun barked. I was falling, falling, falling. Into darkness. And then into fire. My concubines roasted with me, clinging to my body, willingly suffering the same torment that I did. They were chained to me. My cherry trees. Their love and loyalty gave me solace as we burned in Lucifer's fire. I held them tight. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Brandon Fitzsimmons – The Abyss The fire died. My torment ended. Hell had changed. I knew in an instant what had happened. ...