1. The Devil's Pact, Hell Chronicles Chapter 6: To Death


    Date: 9/15/2015, Categories: Fantasy, Anal, Cum Swallowing, Female/Female, Lactation, Lesbian, Oral Sex, Transgendered, Author: mypenname3000, Rating: 50, Source: sexstories.com

    a year, Lana and I had learnt how to fight with the dagger. We weren't the same helpless women Mark had enslaved on the Island Explorer a year-and-a-half ago. We weren't going to be his slaves ever again. Mark's sword slammed into my wife's face. It didn't cut her. It was a Priest's blade, made of Celestial Gold, and could only cut supernatural foes. But Lana was thrown to the ground by the force of the blow, her nose broken and spurting blood. She collapsed in a twitching daze. I had been a dancer since I was ten. I moved with grace, dodging Mark's sword attacks while his whore wife Mary died behind us. Mark growled in rage as I danced about his sword. But I couldn't close in. He was too fast. Then he swung too hard, overextending his swing. I dodged in, thrusting my knife forward. It was a feint. His freehand struck out, catching my wrist. I gasped in surprise, and then pain explode up my arm. He broke my wrist, my dagger cluttering from my hand. He punched the pommel of his sword at my face. I was dead. At least I bought time for Lilith to escape. Darkness fell on me. I woke up with a splitting headache. I lay on hard cot. My wrist throbbed in agony. I tried to move it. A pair of manacles were about my wrist. I shuddered at my twisted, right arm. A ball gag was stuffed into my mouth. I tried to move my arms to reach up and undo the gag. Chains rattled. My broken wrist exploded in pain. I had manacles on my ankles, my wrists restraints connected to the ankles manacles by ...
    another chain. I shuddered and moaned into my gag, tears flowing out of my eyes as I fought against the pain. I looked around my cell once the pain had subsided. I was in a jail cell in the Seattle Police Department. One of Mark's bodyguards—draped in the slutty, disgusting parody of a cop's uniform—watched me. The poor woman was one of Mark's slaves, his choker tight about her throat, stamped with her number—20. He took even her name away, the fucking pig. *Lana...* I sent out, hoping my wife lived. *Chantelle! Thank the Goddess. I thought you were dead! They won't take off my gag. They won't talk to me!* *We're alive,* I sent in relief. *We're his prisoners. He'll make us his Thralls again.* *He can't. Mary's dead. She was stabbed by the Mispach. He doesn't have a way to exorcise our Pacts. He can never control us, my love.* *Then he'll kill us.* Lana's thoughts were strangled by despair. *We're bound together. Even in death, we'll be together.* *In death...but what about our daughter?* I squeezed my eyes shut, picturing Lily lying in her crib. A shuddering sob rocked my body. My daughter wasn't protected from Mark. If she still lived, he would corrupt her, poison her mind, and turn her into a whore when she grows up. What went wrong? How did we lose? Didn't Mark fear the consequences of another plague? We were ready to unleash an even stronger form of Wormwood, one that would kill every man instead of just 1/3. Footsteps echoed down the hall. I looked out, a pair of shadows ...
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