The Devil’s Pact – Chapter 26: The Order of Mary Magdalene

Cuckold stories: The Devil’s Pact – Chapter 26: The Order of Mary Magdalene

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“Come in,” I said to my fellow nun’s, inviting them into my hotel room.

Well, it wasn’t actually my hotel room. Last night when I flew into SeaTac from Miami, Providence led me to an insurance adjuster named Curtis at the airport’s baggage claim. We flirted while waiting for our luggage and he invited me up to his Hotel Room. When Providence gives you a place to stay, with a cute guy to boot, you don’t say no. Right now, Curtis was attending the convention in the hotel and I didn’t expect him back for a few more hours.

“Are you hungry?” I asked my Sisters, closing the door behind them, “Curtis is paying for it?” Last night, I was on top of Curtis, enjoying his big cock in my pussy as I rode him cowgirl style, when his wife called. The asshole spoke to his wife while I fucked him, the disgusting pig. Since he turned out to be a cheating asshole I didn’t feel bad at running up his hotel bill.

“Ohh, Curtis,” the black nun said in her exotic, African accent. “Is he handsome?”

“He has the most gorgeous, blue eyes, that just make you melt in your panties,” I answered, feeling like a teenage girl for the first time in decades, gossiping with my friends about boys. “But, please order something. The asshole is married.”

“Ah, so sad to see a marriage vow so easily broken,” tutted the Latina sister.

I realized I didn’t know their names. The only nun I knew was Sister Louise and she was captured by the Warlock Mark Glassner. “I am Theodora Mariam. And…and I’m so happy you’re here.” I could feel tears running hot down my cheeks. Pull yourself together, Theodora. You’re not actually eighteen.

The Latina nun hugged me gently, rocking me like a mother. “Shh, it will be alright, muñequita. I am Isabella Cecillia.”

“Agnes Chibuzo,” the African nun said and kissed my cheek. “God has sent us to aid you in your trials, Sister Theodora.”

I sniffed. “Thank you, Sisters.”

“Now, I have been traveling almost non-stop for last twenty-four hours,” Agnes said, wearily. “It has been a long trip from Sierra Leone. So tell me, why has God, through his servant Gabriel, sent us here.”

I told them everything I knew. How Sister Louise had tried to exorcise the Warlock Mark Glassner and been captured through the interference of Lilith of the Black Moon. How I was taught the ancient prayers and used Mark sister to attack him. But that failed. His lover, the other Warlock, freed him from the bond.

“It will be far messier, Ramiel told me, yesterday,” I finished. “Soldiers will be needed. Four and four and four.”

Isabella nodded. “It is like Napoleon all over again,” Isabella sighed. “There were three of us and we each bonded four soldiers under Napoleon’s command. We exorcised Napoleon at Waterloo. His wish to be Emperor destroyed, he lost the battle.” A look of old hurt crossed the tan face of Isabella. “Sister Eustace Mariam was killed in the struggle.”

“How old are you?” I asked in awe.

“I was born in the Year of our Lord, 1732,” Isabella answered.

I blinked, I knew we nuns could practically live forever, but most of us grew weary of the struggle after sixty or seventy years and passed their powers onto a successor. The only nun I had heard of that was over a hundred yeas old was the Mother Superior. “Have you ever faced a demon?” I asked Isabella, hopefully.

“No,” Isabella confessed. “That must be why there are three of us. This Warlock is using ancient magics.” Isabella sighed, wearily, rubbing her face. “I wish we had a monk or two with us.”

“A monk?” I frowned. “You mean a male nun, like us?”

“Well, not like us,” Isabella confessed. “When Creator in his infinite mercy gave his children the means to fight the Adversary, 144 were given the gift, half were men and half were women. The men’s gifts were different from ours. They were the soldiers. Given powers to fight demons and monsters and to protect us nuns in situations like this.”

“Why have I not heard of any monks?” I asked.

“The last monk died in 1942, exorcising Hitler,” Isabella sadly answered. “Five nuns and a monk and they all perished. But they broke Hitler’s powers and the Allies were able to eventually defeat the Third Reich.”

“The problem with the monks is their calling,” Agnes explained. “Too many died fighting and were unable to pass on their powers to a successor. We have dwindled as well. Maybe a dozen of us remain.”

“I fear the end is nearing,” Isabella said mournfully. “You are the last nun in North America. There are only two of us left in the Latin Americas.”

“We had four in Africa,” Agnes said, tears brimming on her eyes. “But two Warlocks appeared in the Congo, fighting for control over the jungle, and we lost two sisters exorcising them over the weekend. And I hear the Mother Superior herself had to deal with a Warlock in Paris.”

The Mother Superior was a legend. Supposedly, she was over a thousand years old and lived in the Motherhouse in Rennes-le-Château, France. Sister Louise told me whispered stories of the Mother Superior exorcisms from Vlad Tepesh to Rasputin and many other terrible men and women in between.

A sly smile appeared on Agnes’s face and she reached out and stroked my arm. “So, Theodora, tell us about this Curtis you’ve been indulging.”

A flush suffused my face. When we were given our Ecstasy, blanket indulgences were issued by the pope, forgiving any sin we may commit. Most nuns, at least this is what Sister Louise told me, used the opportunity to sin as much as possible before she once again must abstain.

“He has girth,” I said with a smile, remembering how good his cock felt stretching my pussy as he rode me last night. “I came twice with him last night, and once more this morning.”

“You naughty girl,” Agnes said with a twinkle. She glanced at Isabella. “Did you have time to indulge?”

Isabella gave a throaty laugh. “I live in a remote village in Guatemala. Many hours drive to the airport. This young buck, Miguel, drove me to the airport. I had my eye on him for several months, praying for a mission so I might indulge with him.” A smile appeared on her face. “On the drive to the airport, three times we stopped so he could ravish me.”

“What about you, Anges? Who did you fuck?” I asked.

Her grin turned naughty. “In Brussels I fucked this delightful young man in the airport restroom during my layover. And then in the flight into Seattle from Chicago, I flirted with this beautiful flight attendant named Sarai. She had silky, dusky skin and the most beautiful lips. A good Muslim girl she claimed, but when we arrived in Seattle, that good Muslim girl made me howl in pleasure in the women’s bathroom.”

We all giggled at that. But my joy did not last long, Ramiel’s words echoed in my mind. Soldiers are needed now. Four and four and four. My grin faded and I sighed and asked, “Where do we find four soldiers?” I asked.

“Providence,” Agnes yawned, and lay back on the bed. The TV turned on. “Sorry, I sat on the remote.”

“…go live to Sheriff Erkart about to give a press conference on the growing Mark Glassner scandal admits the SWAT unit of the Pierce County Sheriffs Department,” the anchor on the television said.

I sat up and my fellow nuns stared at the TV. Providence, I thought with a smile.

The camera cut to a room with a podium festooned with microphones. The seal of Pierce County Sheriff department hung behind the podium and a tall, distinguished looking man with black hair graying at the temples, stepped up to the podium. Cameras flashed in the room as he settled himself at the podium.

“Good evening,” the Sheriff greeted, sadly. “It is with a heavy heart that I am here today. An entire squad of the my SWAT unit, eleven men and one woman, have disgraced themselves and betrayed the public’s trusted in my Sheriff Department. As you all know, on Thursday, June 13th at approximately 4:10 AM, the FBI, with support from this SWAT unit, raided Mark Glassner’s house. As recent photos have shown, my officers have behaved disgracefully and will be suspended with pay until the State Patrol has finished their investigation.”

“God has provided,” Agnes breathed.

“Amen,” Isabella finished.

A smile crept up on my face. Mark Glassner enthralled an entire unit of SWAT. Ramiel had explained the spell Mark used to bound his Thralls and made them immune to our powers. The spell had to be performed individually by the Warlock. It seemed Providence was telling us that there were twelve, very dangerous Thralls out there lying loose just waiting for my Sisters and I to collect them.

“Amen,” I whispered as hope soared within me.

A soft snore broke my reverie and I giggled. Sister Agnes was sleeping on her side. She said it took her nearly twenty-four hours of travel to reach Seattle from Africa. The poor thing must be so tired.

“Isn’t she so beautiful,” Isabella whispered, her hand resting on my thigh. Her hand was warm and soft and a delicious thrill went through my body ending at my moistening snatch. Isabella turned to look at me, a smile playing on her brown face. “You are beautiful, too, Theodora,” she whispered in a Spanish lilt and I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks.

Isabella’s lips were full and moist and looked so kissable as her face drew closer and closer to mine. Her lips were soft as well and I could taste cherry lip gloss as I sucked on her lower lip. Her hand was sliding up my thigh, underneath my skirt, sliding closer and closer to my moistening cunt. I placed my hand on her silky leg, squeezing her thigh and reaching for the source of heat between her legs.

Her panties felt like satin and I rubbed the crotch of her panties and could feel the heat of her cunt. I pushed the panties up into the groove of her slit, feeling her moisture slowly seep through the satin fabric and coating my fingers with her sticky arousal. I moaned into Isabella’s mouth as her fingers gently caressed my lacy panties and shivered as she grazed my hard clit through the panties.