Seduction by the Devil's First Wife: A Tale of Forbidden Desire and Eternal Worship

The Devil's Pact
by mypenname3000
Copyright 2013

Chapter Eighteen: Virgins

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Lucifer's semen burned in my cunt as he ejaculated. and another orgasm rolled through my body. Hatred and shame burned inside me as Lucifer pulled his cock out. “Always a pleasure, Lilith,” Lucifer said, pleasantly. Then, like I was his dog, he reached out and stroked my hair before he descended deeper into the Abyss.

After my attempts to seduce Mary and turn her against Mark had failed, Lucifer spent several hours fucking me, reveling in my humiliation. Anger boiled inside me. A white-hot rage that needed to be unleashed on someone. On Mark! That disgusting sack of pus!

I peered into the house and saw Mark and his disgusting friends fucking his Thralls around the dinner table. I concentrated and felt Mary was far away, dancing in a club, grinding on another woman. She was drunk on alcohol and sex. She was almost as bad. Loving her man, submitting to his lust like a good little woman. She was just like that whore, Eve, rutting with Adam.

I had failed at seducing Mary. Me, the first woman, the succubus. I was the first sex goddess, before Asherah, before Hathor and Aphrodite. There was me. And that little whore resisted me! It galled me. I needed to fix this, I needed to have a success. I needed to take something away from Mark and Mary.

But what. All of their precious sluts were in the house, save the one with Mary. But I couldn't touch any of them. Mary's command to not appear before any of them was a chain about my neck. If I concentrated, I could see the red, crystal chain leading off to Mary. The chain would remain until Mary used her last boon.

Frustrated, I peered at Mark, examining his soul. Lucifer was right, I hadn't been paying enough attention. So I studied his soul. It was red, the sign of a Warlock, and his soul's connections branched out from him. All the lives that touched him or that he had touched radiated out in all directions. Most were black chains that connected Mark to his Thralls. Anyone who had been giving a command by Mark had a chain connecting Mark to their souls. Some were tiny, barely threads, fading into silver. These were people who were given simple commands, ones that didn't change their personalities, and Mark's influence was slowly fading from them. Others were thicker. These represented people permanently changed by Mark.

Other threads and chains also branched from mark. Silver threads were regular mortals, the thick ones, what few there were, represented the friends and family of Mark. The thinner, silver threads, represented acquaintances. Each of Mark's friends had a silver thread that connected them to Mark.

A pair of entwined, red threads connected Mark and Mary's souls. Lucifer was right, they were soulmates and would be very hard to break up. Magic would have to be used to dominate one of their minds. An option not opened to me at the present. My powers could only influence a mortal, not force them to obey, sadly.

Lastly, a huge, red chain descended from Mark's soul down into the abyss. Mary would have a similar chain leading down into darkness. That chain would lead all they way to Lucifer. The embodiment of the Pact Mark had signed, chaining his soul to Lucifer. Every Warlock had the red chain, leading to whatever demon they made a pact with. If Mary had summoned me the proper way, instead of using that crystal, a thicker, red chain would connect us then the crystal one.

I turned my attention to the black chains. I wondered if any were important. The thickest black chains were his sluts, the Thralls Mark had the most control over, the Thralls most affected by his commands. There were two chains that led away from the house, just as thick as the chains connecting his sluts. Curious, I touched the chains. Both were women, up north somewhere. They had never been in the house since I was summoned. Who were they? Were they sex slaves of Marks? They must be if Mark had as much control over them as his sluts.

Interesting. Mary had ordered me to not appear before their sluts. Clearly, these two were sex slaves of Mark, but were they 'sluts.' Well, as far as I was concerned, Mary was referring to the girls in the house when she gave me that order. For all I know, Mary doesn't even know of the existences of these two Thralls. I smiled, the stupid bitch had left me a loophole. Oh, these two had a lot to learn about dealing with demons. You need to be quite specific or we'll find so many interesting ways to wiggle out our agreements.

I followed the black chains north and found the two women they belonged to. They were in a quaint lodging. A bed and breakfast I believe they are called, on the Key Peninsula. Their room had a gorgeous view of the Strait of Juan de Fuca, which connected the Puget Sound to the Pacific Ocean. The women were in bed, making love.

A busty blonde with big tits, both nipples pierced with gold rings, was on her back while the other woman, a short, lithe, black-haired woman with small, apple-sized breasts, ate her cunt. The blonde was writhing on her bed, her wide, Slavic face contorted in pleasure, her breasts heaving as she panted her passion. The black-haired woman was quite skilled at eating cunt, her tongue flicking rapidly on the blonde's clit as she fucked three fingers in and out of her shaved cunt.

I examined their black souls, the sign of a Thrall. Their thick black chains led back to Mark and other connections led off them: family, close friends, former lovers. The pair were connected by entwined, black threads. Soulmates, how interesting. Wedding rings glinted on their fingers. Yes, Washington State had legalized gay marriage last November.

This was perfect. I would need followers when I was freed from the Abyss. Mortals to worship me and serve me. And in the meantime, I needed agents in the Mortal World. My appearance was far to distracting to mortals. Preparations needed to be made before I was free. The thought of stealing Mark's own Thralls sent a delicious shiver through my body and my cunt moistened in excitement. I should have thought of this before.

I watched their lovemaking, waiting for them to fall asleep so I could examine their dreams. I needed to learn about their hopes, fears, and desires. So armed, I could seduce these two women to my cause. Their lovemaking went on for some time, changing positions often. Sometimes they would lick each other's pussies at the same time, sometimes they would scissor their legs together. The two were drunk on each other, their relationship was clearly new. They must be on their honeymoon, as mortal's called it, newly wedded. They cried each other's names as they made love, the blonde was Lana and the black-haired woman was Chantelle.

Nearby, a man was dreaming, his lusts rising, a horrid, ear-splitting screech that knifed through my soul. Well, these two weren't sleeping anytime soon, so I followed the horrid sound to silence it. A few blocks away I found a fat, ugly man sleeping next to his wife. I glared down at him and his rutting dream, wincing as another knife stabbed my soul.

I peered into his dream, to see what disgusting fantasy he was having. In his dream, he fantasized about fucking some actress named Scarlett Johansson. She was dressed in tight, black latex, the pants pulled down to expose her nice ass and bare cunts. Men of this time were fascinated by hairless cunts. The man dreamed he was Thor, his flab bouncing as he plowed the red-head from behind. I snorted, as if that tub of lard could be a god or fuck a woman half as beautiful as Scarlett Johansson.

I invaded the dream and the man quickly forgot all about Scarlet. She was a beautiful women, but all beauty failed when compared to me. I was Lilith, the original sex goddess. The first women created, I was perfection. I pushed the fat man down, roughly, his cock hard and ready, and I mounted him. And rode him. Every time he came inside me, I stole more of his vitality. I arched my back, thrusting my perfect breasts forward. The fat man groped my tits with his fat finger, clumsily pawing at my breasts.

I rode him harder and harder, the more lifeforce I stole, the faster I fucked him. I pushed the man far past his physical limits. He was lost to the pleasure. He didn't care about anything but me, not his wife, certainly not Scarlet Whatshername. And definitely not the weariness suffusing his body, the hammering of his heart, and the burning in his lungs. I lost count of how many times he came inside me, lost in the pleasure of his lifeforce rolling through my body. Nothing was sweeter than slowly draining a man to the brink of death.

When I finished he was passed out, his heart beating frantically. It would take him days to recover, I thought with a smile, if his heart doesn't give out first. And his delicious lifeforce filled my belly, spreading warmth and energy through me. If the man didn't die, every time he so much as jerked his own cock, he would think of the dream, of me. I would haunt his fantasies until he died, every time he would fuck someone, he would remember me and his partner would not compare.

When I returned to the two women, they were cuddling, drifting off to sleep, their lusts satiated and I studied their dreams and learned much. Once they were asleep, I could direct their subconscious and slowly sifted out their hopes and fears, desires and secrets.

Lana, the blonde, was bisexual and had cravings for men that Chantelle could never satisfy. Lana was often unfaithful to Chantelle with men, to satisfy her lust and to drive Chantelle crazy with jealousy. Lana loved how aggressive sexually it would make Chantelle after Chantelle would witness her with a male lover. She had secret desires to be fucked by a futanari, a dickgirl. Not some guy who got breast augmentation, but an actual woman with a penis. I studied her fears, next, and Lana's greatest fear was growing old and losing Chantelle to another woman, younger and prettier then her.

From Chantelle I learned how much she loved Lana and hated watching her with other men. Every time was a knife in her heart and every time she wanted to tell Lana to stop, but instead would find herself fucking Lana passionately, proving that Lana enjoyed being with her more than with a man. Both of them were strippers, and Lana would often fuck men during lap dances while Chantelle watched. It was Chantelle's greatest fear that Lana would leave her for a man. Chantelle was Lana's first woman and Chantelle feared that Lana would one day stop being gay and go back to men.

I smiled, this was perfect. I knew just how to seduce these girls to my service.

I entered the Mortal World, dawn would be approaching in a few hours, so I needed to act now. I was strongest at night, beneath a moon. When I manifested, my lust radiated out from me in waves, filling the entirety of the bed and breakfast. Both sleeping women started to stir, their nipples hardening and their cunts weeping fluid. In the next room was a couple celebrating their wedding anniversary The wife was sleeping, but the husband was up, using the restroom. The lust hit him, overwhelming his thoughts and he rushes to his wife and soon their passionate fucking could be heard through the thin walls. Upstairs, the innkeeper, a woman in her sixties, started to masturbate for the first time in years.

Lana is the first to awaken, her eyes wide with desire when she sees me. I appeared naked, my lush body bathed in silvery moonlight. Lana shakes Chantelle who snuggles against Lana and sucks a nipple into her mouth. Lana's eyes glisten with desire, her full lips parted slightly.

“Who are you?” gasped Lana, her voice thick with her accent, Ukrainian, I think.

“Lilith,” I answered, purring my voice. “I am here to gift you with pleasures.”

I pulled away the covers, exposing their bodies. Chantelle was pressed against Lana's side, her hand caressing Lana's shaved cunt as she nursed at Lana's breast. I touched both women's thighs and they cried out as they climaxed, hugging each other tightly as they trembled in passion. Lana claimed Chantelle's lips with a kiss, the wives exploring each other's mouth with their tongues. I crawled up their bodies, triggering a second orgasm in each woman as my breasts dragged across their naked flesh, my hard nipples sliding pleasantly across their silky skin.

Both women sucked my hard nipples into their mouths. Their thighs parted for me and I slid a leg tight against each of their wet pussies. They started to grind on me, flooding my thighs with their passion as orgasms rolled through their bodies. I held the women to my breasts, delighting in the feel of their wet lips on my nipples. Each played with nipple differently. Lana sucked harder, nibbling with her teeth, and Chantelle used her tongue more, playing with my hard nipple then sucking it back into her mouth. I breathed deeply, inhaling the heady scent of womanly passion.

I inserted fantasies into both women. For Chantelle, the fantasy of having her own penis, of how happy Lana was to finally be fully satisfied by her wife. The pleasure of sticking a penis into a woman's cunt and ejaculating your seed into her.

For Lana, the fantasy of being taken by Chantelle, to feel Chantelle's dick fucking into her cunt, better than any man's dick because it belonged to her wife, to her love. And beneath her cock, she still had her pussy. She was still a woman, the only woman who could satisfy her fully, a dickgirl.

“I can give this two you,” I whispered to Chantelle, pulling her head off my breast. “With a cock, you could fully satisfy Lana. She would never need to cheat on you.” I pulled Lana off my breast and whispered, “You fear growing old, of Chantelle finding a younger woman, but I can keep you and your wife young and beautiful forever.”

I waited, watching as the ladies absorbed what I promised through the haze of their lust. Chantelle licked her lips, glancing at her wife. “W-would you be happy if I had a d-dick?” Chantelle asked her wife, nervous.

“Oh, that would make me so happy!” Lana moaned. “I've always fantasized about being with a futanari!”

“A what?” Chantelle asked and Lana kissed her. “A beautiful girl with a beautiful dick,” Lana answered.

“All I need is your pledge to worship me,” I told them. “Swear your souls to me and be my High Priestesses, and I will grant you your desires.”

“But we belong to Master and Mistress,” Chantelle objected.

“Your bodies, not your souls,” I lied. “Besides, I serve Mark and Mary as well. They sent me to you, to grant these desires.”

“Really?” Lana asked. She was trying to think, to object. Deep down she could sense the lie, sense that she was betraying Mark, but my lust permeated her body, overriding her fear.

I laughed inside. This was too easy. “Yes. Just say, 'I pledge my soul to Lilith, my Goddess, for now until

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THE END