1. The Devil's Pact, Hell Chronicles Chapter 11: The God-King


    Date: 10/12/2015, Categories: Fantasy, Incest, Male / Females, Male/Female, Non-consensual sex, Oral Sex, Rape, Sado-Masochism, Threesome, Author: mypenname3000, Rating: 50, Source: sexstories.com

    dispensed. I advanced on the black-haired priestess—Chantelle—as she cradled her blonde wife. Chantelle fixed me with defiant eyes. Her screams were satisfying as I put out her eyes. She would do until I could get my hands on Orihime again. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ June 6th, 2054 – Mary Glassner – South Hill, WA “Do not touch our daughter!” I commanded, steel in my voice. Mark lay on the ground, his eyes staring up in pain. I held his hand, kissing his knuckles as the life slowly left his body. What had happened to my poor daughter to drive her to kill us? I could see the love in her eyes as she stared down at Mark. Chase's eyes widened at the horror of what she had done. “We all die when he does!” Candy objected. “If none of you will kill the bitch, then I'll...” “You will do nothing!” 51 roared. 51, our chief bodyguard, struggled with Candy. Her gun barked and Candy fell back, clutching her stomach. Sam fell to Candy's side, cradling her dying wife. That didn't matter. We were all about to die. Our daughter used the Mispach dagger on Mark. He was dying. The only way to save him was to kill Chase. I couldn't do that. And neither could Mark. I squeezed his hand tighter. Chase knelt on the other side of Mark, her blue eyes swimming with tears. “I'm so sorry, Daddy,” she sobbed, such anguish in her voice—my heart broke for her. Mark and I had failed our daughter. “It had to be done. Your tyranny had to be stopped. I couldn't take the chance that you wouldn't listen.” ...
    Mark looked from me then to our daughter his face contorting in pain. His lips struggled to move, but he finally whispered, “I forgive you.” Mark died. I felt it in my soul. Forty years ago, I had made a Pact with Lucifer. I chained my life to his. As my husband's soul fell into Hell, he pulled me down with him. I was falling, falling, falling. Into Darkness. Then Darkness gave way to heat, to fire. A searing heat washed over me. I opened my eyes, staring out at blasted, blood-red rocks. Anguished wails echoed, the damned screaming from a city of brass built on a hellish plain dotted with rifts that smoked sulfurous fumes. Mark's arms wrapped around me, pulling me close. “Together forever,” I whispered. Mark snapped a collar made of red, pitted iron from his neck. A matching chain crumbled away as it led off into the distance—his pact with Lucifer. I found my own collar. It crumbled into rust as I ripped it. Mark and I had far more power than Lucifer ever possessed. We had the power of all the greater demons that had escaped hell—Lucifer, Lilith, Molech, Astarte, Dagon, and more. More souls appeared around us. When Mark died, he dragged more than my soul down into Hell—he dragged all those bound to us by the Zimmah ritual—our sluts, the bodyguards, our servants, our families, and our closest friends. An army appeared on the hill around us, ready to fight for us as fervently in death as they had in life. Those sluts who had died before us greeted Mark and me with enthusiasm and ...
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