The Devil’s Pact – by mypenname3000

Cuckold stories: The Devil’s Pact. Author: mypenname3000. This chapter is including of Fantasy, Anal, Cuckold, Female/Female, Group Sex, Hardcore, Job/Place-of-work, Lesbian, Male / Females, Mind Control theme.

Cuckold stories: The Devil’s Pact – Chapter 1: The Baristas

Author: mypenname3000

Chapter One: The Barista

“That’s it?” I asked, my thumb still throbbing from the pen prick.

“That’s it,” the Devil answered jovially, putting the contract into his satchel. “Well, I’ll be going. Unless you have any more questions, Mark?”

There was an awkward pause, as I tried to think, but I was still too amazed that it worked. After 27 years of life, I was still a virgin. I wasn’t ugly, just average looking guy with glasses and a little overweight. I was just painfully shy around women. I guess it was a mix of a lack of confidence, nervousness around strangers, and a fear of rejection that led to my situation. Probably more fear of rejection than anything else. It was desperation that brought me out to this lonely crossroad at midnight in the forested foot hills of the Cascade Mountains.

I had read that if you buried a box containing certain items at a crossroad at midnight, you could summon the Devil. In exchange for your soul, the Devil would grant you three wishes. Feeling ridiculous, I gathered the items: a photograph of myself, dirt from a graveyard, bone of a black cat, and a yarrow flower. I found a crossroad formed by two gravel back roads and buried the box.

And I waited, feeling like a complete moron. And waited. And waited. Eternity seemed past, my stomach twisted into knots. I was just about to leave when the Devil appeared, stepping out of the shadows. I was stunned, my thoughts scattered at his appearance. The Devil greeted me with a friendly smile. He was a handsome man, dark hair, dressed in an expensive black suit. The only thing unusual about him was his scarlet eyes.

“Hello, Mark Glassner. What can I do for you, tonight?” the Devil asked, pleasantly.

“I…uh…” I stammered painfully, surprise tangling my tongue. He waited patiently as I gathered my thoughts. “I want to make some wishes.”

“Of course, of course,” he said. “What would you like.”

I swallowed. My voice cracked as I told him my wishes. “A long, healthy life.”

The Devil nodded. “That’s good one. The second?”

“Sexual stamina,” I said, my cheeks reddening in embarrassment. “I want to be able to…uh…perform as many times as I want.”

The Devil nodded. There was understanding in his eyes. Not judgement. Feeling more confident, I told him my third wish. “I want people to do whatever I tell them to do in a friendly and helpful manner.”

The Devil grinned, a predatory, hungry smile. With a flash of scarlet light and yellow smoke, a contract appeared in his hand. The smoke smell acrid and foul, like rotten eggs. “Look it over,” he said as he handed me the contract.

I did. The contract seemed straightforward. Three wishes for my soul. Seemed cheap. What was my soul really worth? What had I done with my life. Nothing. Just a cheap, one bedroom apartment, a shitty car, and a terrible job trying to sell vacuum cleaners to stuck up rich bitches. I nodded and with a flourish, the Devil produced an old fashioned, black fountain pen. He pricked my thumb with the pen and I signed the contract in my own blood. Then the Devil signed in his.

“Well, I’ll be going. Unless you have any more questions, Mark?”

The Devil took my silence as a no. With a friendly smile, he vanished back into the shadows. And it hit me, what I just done. I stumbled under the weight of my actions, bumping back into my beat-up old Ford Taurus. My legs felt weak, wobbly like a newborn animal. I set heavily on my car trunk, shocks squeaking as the car rocked, and I starred up at the stars wheel across the night sky.

I thought about what I would do with my powers. Fantasies flashed through my mind. Getting even with people, living a life of luxury. Getting laid. Definitely, getting laid. I made plans, playing out scenarios over and over in my mind. Before I knew it, the sun was rising.

As the sun rose, blushing the horizon in pink, I felt different. It was as if while I watch the stars I was taken apart and stitched back together. Remade. Reborn. Better than I had been. No longer that virgin loser. I had a whole new life ahead of me. I was someone, now. Smiling, I slid into my car, started the engine, and peeled out down the gravel road to find this new life.

I drove back into civilization, passing shopping centers on the Spanaway border. I was a mix of excitement and exhaustion. I felt like I could sleep the day away, but I was far too excited to sleep. Seeing one of the many Starbucks that seemed to be on every street corner in Washington, I realized I could kill two birds with one stone. Get some desperately needed caffeine and test out my powers. I pulled into the parking lot and walked inside.

I was nervous as I entered. Doubt wracked my mind. All the confidence and certainty I felt watching the sun rise had evaporated. This wasn’t going to work. Last night was a dream. A hallucination. Some horribly elaborate prank at my expense. Possibly with hidden cameras and some Ryan Seacrest look-a-like about to ambush me and broadcast my humiliation to the world as part of some terrible reality TV show.

The Starbucks was crowded with people heading off to work. Three baristas worked the shop. A nerdy looking guy and two, attractive women, all dressed in the baggy polo shirts, black tucked into black pants, and black hats. All wore the green aprons with the Starbuck’s mermaid embroidered in white. One of the barista’s, who’s name tag read “Cynthia”, was a tall women, mid twenties, with black hair cut short in a vaguely punkish style. Her nose was pieced and a second piercing was in her right eyebrow. Her dark eyes, hair cut, and piercings gave her face a certain predatory wildness. The second female barista, Mary according to her name tag, was a little short than Cynthia. She had long, auburn hair pulled back into pony tail, and her heart-shaped face was dotted with freckles. She was maybe nineteen or twenty and had the most beautiful smile, complete with cute dimples.

I got in line behind a cute twenty-year old. Curly, brunette hair fell about her purple hoodie covered shoulders. My eyes traveled down her back to stare at perky ass covered by a jean skirt. Long, tan legs, well-toned, peaked out the frayed edges of the skirt. Staring at the bubbly ass, I wanted to reach out and squeeze it. My was cock hardening.

Gathering my courage my courage, I croaked out, “Hi.”

The brunette turned, eyes me up and politely smiled, before turning back.

I can do this, I told myself. You’re a new man. Reborn. I cleared my throat. “Hi, I’m Mark. What’s your name?”

This time the brunette’s smile was far friendlier. “Vivian Anders,” she said. Her voice had a smokey, sultry quality about it.

This was going to work. “What color are your panties?”

Vivian blinked, clearly taken-aback. “White, with pink polka dots.” Her tan face flushed. “Why did I say that,” she whispered, mortified.

“It’s all right,” I told her. I grinned. It worked. “You want to please me, don’t you. Nothing makes you happier than to please me.”

She nodded, embarrassment fading, smile growing. “What else can I do for you, Mark?”

“Can I have everyone’s attention!” I yelled. The entire shop full of people turned to face me. “The coffee-shop is closed now. Everyone except the staff and Vivian, here, need to leave. Staff, lock up the store and close the blinds.”

There was some grumbling, and a few clearly seemed confused as they walked out the shop, wondering why they were listening to some random guy. The staff seemed even more confused as they started to lock up and close the store blinds. “Who are you?” asked the male barista, who’s name tag read “Ethan.”

“Mark,” I answered. “And we’re going to have a party.” Cynthia gave me a wicked smile, Mary a nervous smile. Vivian bounced on her heels in excitement, clearly eager to please me.

Once the store was locked up, I gathered everyone together. I handed my smart phone to Ethan. “You’re going to film this,” I told. “You’re not going to speak, make noise, get in the way. You’re just going to film. You’re not going to get excited or aroused. Okay.”

Ethan nodded, brows furrowed in confusion. But he took the phone, and he didn’t say a word. I turned to the ladies and smiled at them. “Vivian, Mary, and Cynthia, from now one, nothing in the world makes you happier than to please me.”

“What would please you, Mark?” Cynthia purred, licking her lips. She was definitely a wild girl.

“How about you lovely ladies take off your clothes,” I answered. “Let me see those hot bodies of yours.

Cynthia gave a wicked laugh, untied her apron, and quickly pulled her black top off, exposing pale breasts cupped in a black bra. There was a tattoo of a pouncing tiger that ran from below her left breast, down across her stomach, and disappearing into her pants. Flushing a beautiful crimson, Mary pulled her black polo over her head, small breasts covered by a plain, white bra. Vivian’s hoodie and shirt were already on the floor and she was reaching back to unhook her white bra, her large tits straining against the material, waiting to be set free. My was cock painfully hard in my pants. This was happening. I was about to lose my virginity to three hot girls I just met.

Mary was kicking off her shoes and sliding down her pants. Like her bra, her panties were a plain white. I glanced at Cynthia and saw my first pair of live tits. They were perky and firm, a nice handful. Maybe a B-cup. Her nipples were hard and her areolas were the size of quarters. With the bra off, I cold see the tiger’s tail wrap around the bottom of her breast, up the left side and ending just above her aerola. She unbuttoned her tight pants and with a sexy shake, shimmed them off her hips. Underneath was a black, skimpy thong. I could see her tiger tattoo continued across her waist and around onto her right asscheek. Then she pulled her thong off and twirled it on her fingers, and tossed it to me. Cynthia placed her hands on her hips and gave me a challenging, lust filled stare.