The Devil’s Pact – Chapter 30: Tiffany’s Tale

Cuckold stories: The Devil’s Pact – Chapter 30: Tiffany’s Tale

Fantasy, Blowjob, Cuckold, Exhibitionism, Female Domination, Female/Female, Lesbian, Male Domination, Male/Female, Mind Control, Oral Sex, Sado-Masochism, Teen Male / Female, Water Sports/Pissing, Wife

My hands were shaking as the adrenaline bled off. But the images of the dead and dying would not leave my mind. Oh, God, so many dead, I prayed. Forgive me, Lord.

“Why are you crying, Mother!” my daughter spat at me with such venom in her voice. Her bile was a dagger in my heart. “What do you have to cry about, Mother? Are your loved ones dead and dying?”

I looked sadly at my middle daughter, Mary. She was bound, sitting in the corner of the swat van. Her eyes were puffy from crying and burned a deep green with hatred. Blood mated the front of her clothing, probably Mark’s blood. I did not see any wounds on her. About her was a scarlet red aura, the stained aura of a Warlock. My own daughter sold her soul and I was sent to defeat her.

“Because all that blood is on my hands,” I whispered my answer. “That is why I am crying, Mary.”

Mary gave a shrill, almost hysterical laugh. “You fucking nuns are such hypocrites. Karen was just as sorry after she nearly killing Desiree. Did you ever think what would happen if you attacked us? Christ, Mother, your soldiers had automatic fucking weapons!”

“It was the only way,” I sadly explained. “It was all for the greater good. We had to stop Mark and…”

“And me, Mother,” Mary snarled. “You tried to kill Mark and your own daughter. What a great servant of God you are!”

I flinched as her words whipped my soul bloody. I struggled to gather my thoughts, to marshal some sort of defense against her accusations. To assuage my guilt and wash the blood from my hands. It was all for the greater good, Ramiel told me. For the future of the World. We must not be allowed to fail. Mark Glassner had to be stopped. He is a Warlock, an evil man who sold his soul and corrupted my poor daughter.

The van stopped. We must be at the getaway cars. I cloaked the SWAT van with invisibility to get us clear of the immediate area. Already cops were swarming the street that Mark lived on. But it was too dangerous to drive an invisible vehicle on the streets. We were lucky no one hit us in the short distance we had to drive.

Dennis, the only remaining SWAT officer under my control, opened the rear doors, climbed in and pulled Mary out of the van. She was dragged kicking and screaming and Dennis easily manhandled her. I followed, walking over to the several vehicles we parked here earlier today. Dennis walked over to a silver, Jeep Cherokee and threw her in the back seat. I slid in beside my daughter.

“Mark is evil,” I told Mary, trying to justify my actions to my daughter. And to myself. “He had to be stopped.”

“Did you do something to Alice?” Mary asked coldly. “Is that why she shot my fiancee, Mother?”

“Yes,” I sighed, looking down at my hands.

“Oh, so there’s another innocent person whose blood is on your hands, then, Mother. I’m sure you saw her bleeding to death when you captured me.” Mary paused, her lip curled in contempt. “She was Shannon’s best friend growing up, remember? Alice used to sleep over at the house with Shannon and you would make them cookies to eat. Oh, but that was before you turned into a whore and abandoned us!”

The pain of Mary’s words threatened to crush me as memories of a sweet, black-haired girl playing with Shannon flooded my mind. Tears were brimming at my eyes. Oh, God, what have I done. I looked down at my hands. They were surprisingly clean for hands so stained with blood. Alice. Isabella and Agnes. That blonde Thrall who spent her last breath trying to protect my daughter. From her own mother.

I should have been the one to protect Mary.

“Why couldn’t you just leave us alone?” Mary asked, bitterly.

“What you do is evil,” I said, feeling my anger replace my guilt. “You control people. Make them your slaves, steal their free will. Destroy lives. All those SWAT officers had relationships. Marriages. Broken and destroyed by what you and Mark made them do when they raided your house.”

“We didn’t kill them,” Mary spat back. “You say we destroy lives? Who was it that took control of those men and led them into a killing field. Really a good act there. Who attacked whom, Mother? You’re just as bad as we are. You killed Chasity.” Mary’s eyes brimmed with tears. “She was a sweet, loving woman and your soldiers gunned her down. You tried to kill your own daughter, Mother.”

“I didn’t know you were the other Warlock,” I protested. “I never thought in a million years my own daughter would…”

“Would be a Warlock,” Mary sneered. “Better than the whore who runs out on her family.” Mary gave a bitter laugh. “Mark is bleeding to death. It won’t be long until I’m out of your life, Mother. Than your mission will be complete.”

My forehead furrowed in confusion. “What? What are you talking about, Mary? I’m not going to kill you.”

“My Pact,” Mary whispered. “Mark wished for a long life. When I made my Pact, I wished to be young and healthy for as long as Mark lives. When he dies, I die.” She sniffed, and a small smile appeared on her lips. “We will be together for eternity.”

“I’ll exorcise you,” I said, fear squeezing my heart. I could not be responsible for my own daughter’s death. That guilt would destroy me. “Then your wish won’t matter. You’ll live past him.”

“No!” Her shout surprised me. “Let me be with him. With Mark dead and my powers broken, only prison will remain for me.”

“How can you love him, Mary?” I asked her. “Where does this devotion come from. He’s a monster. I know what a male Warlock does to his Thralls.”

“Love them?” Mary asked. “Mark never hurts them. We love them. Mark’s a good man, deep inside. The power he has, it’s too intoxicating. No one can resist it fully. You want to know why I love him, Mother? Because he has a caring soul. Because he loved me so much he set me free from his powers. Because if I asked it of him, he would give up his powers.”

I laughed. “No Warlock has ever given up their powers. Not voluntarily.”

“Mark would, for me,” Mary insisted.

“I know Warlocks far too well, Mary.” I shook my head. The poor girl was besotted with him. She was young, only nineteen. She hasn’t learned about the lies a man will tell a woman in bed. I learned that lesson before I met Sean. “They all are selfish beasts.”

Mary snorted. “You swoop in, exorcise a Warlock and then head back to whatever convent you nuns wait at. What do you really know about us? You speak like we’re evil monsters and not just people with too much power.”

“For six months I was a Thrall.” I could feel the tears brimming in my eyes as I began to tell my daughter what happened on March 15th, 2000, and the terrible nightmare that followed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thirteen Years Ago

“Look what I made at school, mommy!” Mary said, all excited, when I walked in the door from work. She was bouncing on her feet dressed in a cute, plaid jumper holding a clay tablet with her handprint in the center. “I made if for you and Daddy.” Mary was six, her auburn hair in two pig tails and her green eyes shining with happiness.

I smiled and took it from her. “It’s very pretty. Thank you, Mary. Let’s go show Daddy.”

Mary took my hand in hers and pulled me to the living room where Sean sat. I smiled at my husband. He had loosened the top few buttons of his shirt as he graded papers. A High School Teacher’s work was never quite done. Except during the summer.

“Daddy!” Mary excitedly shouted and jumped up on Sean’s lap, scattering his papers as she held up what she made in Kindergarten today.

“That’s so pretty, Mary,” Sean praised. He was a great father and I smiled fondly at him.

“Baba,” Melissa gurgled as she stomped across the floor. She still didn’t say mama right, but I didn’t mind. She was learning to walk and only fell twice before she reached me and I scooped up my youngest daughter and spun her about and kissed her rosy cheeks as she laughed.

“Have you seen Shannon?” I asked Sean. Shannon was ten, and was reaching the age where she was becoming interested in clothes, and boys. She was growing up too fast. It wouldn’t be long before I was buying her a training a bra and she was dating some pimply-faced teen.

“She’s at a Alice’s house,” Sean answered, smiling at me. He had these amazing green eyes and still kept his hair long like when we first started dating in college, tied back in a bright, red ponytail. The very image of the cool, laid-back teacher.

“Can you take Melissa, so I can start dinner?” I asked, kissing Melissa’s cute face before handing her to “daba.”

“Sure, Tiffany,” Sean smiled, taking Melissa from me. Sean’s hand brushed mine and he rubbed it just a little longer than necessary. I smiled, it was the little things that kept a marriage going.

I headed for the kitchen, trailed by Mary. I pulled on my plain, white apron and Mary pulled on her pink frilly apron. “Are you going to help mommy?” I asked her.

Mary nodded, a serious expression on her face. I gave her some simple instructions and we started gathering the ingredients for dinner when I discovered we were out of milk. I sighed and popped my head back into the living room. “Did you forget to swing by the store, Sean?”

He flushed. “Sorry, Tif,” he said. “I’ll go right away.”

I shook my head. I loved my husband, but he was so forgetful. “I’ll walk over to the Coopers and borrow some milk.”

I grabbed a small container and walked outside. The sun was setting, shining brightly on me as a drizzle of rain fell on my face. Weather in March was so unpredictable in Western Washington. It can go from sunny to rain to snow to hail and back to sun all in a twenty minute period of time. And around sunset, you would often get rain and sun at the same time. I grabbed my jacket and walked quickly up Violet Meadows, admiring a beautiful rainbow as I walked up the street to the Coopers.

I could hear music coming from an open garage, loud drums and the metallic screeching of an electric guitar. The Bronson boy and his band were practicing. They weren’t that good, but I liked to encourage Kurt. He was a nice boy, despite that absurd mohawk and lip piercing. He was always around the house, asking if he could do any chores to make some money. So, I let him clean the gutters or mow the lawn for a some money. Sean would grouse, “I can mow the lawn, Tif,” or, “I’m perfectly capable of cleaning the gutters.” Well, if I waited for Sean to get around to mowing the lawn on his own, we would have waist-high grass. And I so hated being a nag.