Chapter 45: Wormwood

edited by Master Ken

We had been in San Francisco for a week, spreading the Holy Word, when Wormwood erupted. Brian fell ill, and a great fear clutched my heart. The hospitals had been overwhelmed and I could only sit next to my husband and pray. I furiously prayed to our Living Gods, over and over until my sex grew sore with the ferocity of my devotions. On the third night, the God appeared in a vision before me, glowing like the sun. He took me in the vision, pleasure suffusing my entire being. "All will be well, my slut," he had proclaimed as my passion overcame me. "Your faith has been rewarded." The next morning, Brian's fever lifted.
–Second Missionaries 14:01-03

Tuesday, November 12th, 2013 – Mark Glassner – City Hall, Seattle

I found Mary in the mayor's office, sitting on the edge of his desk. Mayor Erikson appeared to have been enthralled by Lamia – who was either Lilith or one of her daughters – and I left the man calling pathetically for, "My sweet Lamy!" with the soldiers downstairs. Mary would have to fix him with her Gift later.

My wife still wore her black fatigues, though she took off the stab vest. Underneath the vest she wore a tight, black halter top that molded to her perky breasts and slightly round stomach. She was just starting to show her pregnancy. Her auburn hair was pulled into a ponytail, and she looked fetching as the rising sun streamed in through the window behind her.

"Mark," she purred. "I believe I promised to fuck your brains out?"

I grinned, my cock hard. The fight in the warehouse had been terrifying, but afterward I felt so alive. And I wanted nothing more than to prove how alive I was by fucking my wife. I sauntered to her and she slid off the desk. Man, she looked sexy in her fatigues, like an amazon.

She kissed me with passion, pressing her body to me, and shoved her tongue deep into my mouth. "Fuck me," she hissed, grinding her crotch into my hard cock. "God, I need it so bad!"

I spun her about, bent my wife over the desk. She pushed the computer monitor and keyboard to the side, and they crashed to the floor. I squeezed her ass through the fatigues, then ripped them off her ass along with the sky-blue boy-shorts she wore underneath. Her cunt was wet, waxed bare, and I whipped my cock out and shoved it in.

"Fuck, that's nice!" I moaned as I pounded her pussy.

"Yes, yes!" she cried, writhing on the desk. "Take me, stallion!"

The soldiers guarding the door were sure to hear us; that just made it hotter. I buried my shaft into my wife's tight hole over and over. The desk rattled and slid on the beige carpet. Mary's freckled ass jiggled every time I bottomed out in her cunt; the cheeks were plump, inviting, and I smacked my hand down on her ass.

"Ohh, spank my ass!" Mary groaned.

I slapped her again, leaving a red hand-print. Then I grabbed her auburn ponytail and yanked her head back. I usually wasn't this rough with her, but after the fight, we both were boiling over with energy that needed a release.

I pulled her head up, and whispered in her ear, "You like this? You like it when I fuck you hard?"

"Yes, yes!" she cried out, her green eyes lidded with lust as she looked over her shoulder at me. "Fuck me, stud! Make me howl in pleasure!"

"Naughty filly!" I panted, and slammed my rod harder into her cunt. "Naughty fucking filly!"

"Yes! So naughty! I'm your naughty filly! Oh God, make me cum!"

Her cunt convulsed on my cock as her passion swept through her. She felt delicious, wonderful as her sheath milked my cock. I pulled back, and drove my cock home. Every muscle in my body tensed as my passion exploded thick into her.

Mary was shaking, breathing heavily, and then I heard a soft sob escape her lips. Fear filled me. Was I too rough? "Did I hurt you?" I tenderly asked.

"No," she said, sniffing. "It's just ... You almost died again, Mark."

I pulled out of her, scooped my wife up in my arms, and carried her to the plush, leather chair behind the desk. Mary curled up on my lap, and I stroked her hair as she softly cried. "I didn't die though," I reassured her.

"I know, but ... it was so close." She looked up at me, her green eyes red with emotion. "You were so burned. I didn't even know how you were still standing."

"You have no idea how close it was," I whispered.

"What?"

I swallowed, remembering the hate I felt when I saw Lilith. "I almost killed her. I..."

"Shh..." she said, putting her finger to my lips.

I swallowed; she was right. It wasn't safe to talk about this here. If I had killed Lilith, then the final lock on the Devil's prison would have sprung open, and he would have escaped Hell. I was only supposed to capture her.

I had to be more careful.

Mary kissed me gently. She couldn't say anything more, not outside of the Matmown. The Devil could be spying on us right this second from the Shadows. The only safe place to talk was that metal room, the Matmown. No spiritual being, not even the Devil, could penetrate the spells warding it. She was trying to reassure me, to quell the guilt and recriminations that twisted about inside me. We had driven Lilith from Seattle. She was no longer right on our doorstep, and we could take the time to figure things out, and to be ready for our next confrontation—and the consequences. Sam should be leaving for Israel in a few hours to study the Dead Sea Scrolls and figure out how to trap Lucifer if the worst should happen.

The kiss was soft, gentle, loving. I stroked Mary's face, relaxing into her lips. The kiss grew more passionate, Mary shifting, squirming on my lap as she kicked off her fatigues and underwear. My tongue explored her sweet mouth. I kept hold of her face, not wanting to break the kiss as she straddled me. We broke the kiss only long enough for me to pull her black halter-top off, my hands instantly going to her freckled breasts as we kissed again. Mary shivered in pleasure as I played with her nipples.

My wife raised her hips up, guided my cock to her wonderful hole, and slid achingly slow down my shaft. I groaned into her lips, enjoying the sensation of being buried in her sopping cunt. Then she raised up slowly – a shudder passed through my body – and then back down. This wasn't the frantic rutting of a few minutes ago; we were making love this time, slow and passionate.

My right hand let go of her left breast, sliding down her silky skin to cup her plump ass, guiding her hips as she slowly rode me. The leather chair creaked and my stomach sank as it leaned back. For a moment, I feared the chair was falling backwards. Then it stopped; her breasts hung down to brush my chest. She smiled in relief, then she pumped up and down on my shaft.

"Oh, Mark," she moaned, her emerald eyes staring down at me. Her ponytail hung down her neck and brushed my shoulder. "I love you."

I squeezed her ass, urging her to go faster, and pulled her down for another kiss. I put all my love into my lips, nibbling on hers and playing with her tongue. She tasted sweet. She rocked faster on me. The pleasure intensified, building in my balls, and I drove my cock into her. The chair wobbled and creaked, sliding about on the plastic mat on the floor, moving into a shaft of morning sunlight. Mary's hair was a tongue of fire kissing my shoulder and chest as we made love.

"My Mare!" I groaned, feeling my balls tightening. "I'm gonna cum."

"Do it," she whispered, her face flushed and sweaty with passion. "Cum in me."

Her velvety cunt gripped my cock as she slammed down and I exploded in her. She mewled in pleasure, her body shaking atop me as her passion burst inside her. She gasped once, then sighed, and snuggled against my chest.

"I love you, Mare," I whispered, my hand stroking down her side, down to her baby bump. "You and our child." I was going to have other children, with the sluts, with other women, but I knew I was going to love our children just a little bit more.

"Our only child," Mary sighed.

"What?" I asked her. "We can have other children."

"Nuns don't get pregnant, Mark. As long as I have the Gift, this is our only child."

I didn't know what to say, so I just kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry. It's not fair that I'm having all these children."

"It's okay, Mark." She shifted, looking up at me, and kissed me. "We'll have one child, at least."

"One daughter. I told my sperm, remember."

She laughed. "It doesn't work that way, Mark."

"Sure it does. Willow told me so. She's an OB/GYN."

Mary rolled her eyes. It was good to see her happy. Maybe having only one kid wasn't so bad, Mary wanted to name our first son Albert, after my grandfather. He was a great guy, but Albert was a terrible name. Our daughter would be named Chasity in memory of the loving woman that gave her life for Mary.

"Fine, if we only have one child..." Mary started to say.

"A daughter," I corrected.

"Fine, if we only have a daughter, her middle name will be Alberta," Mary declared with a mischievous grin. Did she read my mind? "Chasity Alberta Glassner."

Fuck. That was almost as bad. I opened my mouth to object, when the doors opened and Jessica walked in. She smiled at us, sauntering over to the desk. She wore a slutty secretary's outfit: a very short skirt, gray, thigh-high stockings, and a transparent, blue blouse that her caramel breasts were easily visible through.

"Master, Mistress," she smiled, sitting down on a chair across from us.

Mary smiled back, then climbed off me. Jessica's eyes fell on her messy cunt, and licked her lips. Jessica was a good slut. When Mary perched on the desk's edge and spread her legs, the slut quickly buried her face in my wife's pussy and licked my cum out of her. Mary gripped her honey-brown hair, writhing her hips. Her auburn hair tossed, and it wasn't long before she was shuddering in pleasure, tossing me a smile over her shoulder as she came.

"Umm, that was good," Mary purred.

"Thank you, Mistress," Jessica smiled, her lips sticky with pussy cream and my cum.

"Why don't you bend over the desk and let Mark fuck your ass," Mary ordered her. I smiled at Mary; she was a such loving wife, and always made sure my needs were taken care of.

"Are you ready to run the city?" I asked Jessica as I hiked up her gray skirt.

"Yes, I ... ohh ... am!" Jessica gasped as I slipped my cock into her tight ass.

"Good, we're heading back to Tacoma after this," I told her, fucking her bowels.

"I'll make sure things run smooth, Master!"

"I know you will. I have complete faith in you."

Her dark face flushed as she turned around to look back at me. "Thank you, Master! I won't let you down."

Her ass was tight, hot, as it gripped my cock. I squeezed her caramel hips and pounded her hard. My balls slapped against her pussy, and her ass constricted slightly every time her little slit was struck.

"I don't trust the new head of Seattle's Police," I continued. "Have her arrested. In fact, you might want to purge as many women out of the government as possible. Lilith had a lot of female followers. No men though."

"Oh, yes!" Jessica responded, thrusting her ass back against me. "That makes sense. She's a man-hater."

"Round up all the high-ranking government officials that are women," Mary commanded; she looked so sexy perched on the desk, the morning sun lighting up her body. "We'll sort out which ones work for Lilith and which ones are innocent."

"Yes, Mistress!"

Mary leaned over, her face inches from Jessica. "Are you making my husband feel good, slut?"

"I am, Mistress," Jessica answered.

"Good," Mary smiled and kissed her.

"Fuck, that's hot," I muttered as I watched my wife kissing Jessica. My balls were close to exploding, and I groaned and shot my wad into Jessica's ass.

Mary broke the kiss. "Clean his up cock, slut."

"Absolutely," Jessica purred, and quickly knelt before me, sucking my dirty cock into her mouth.

Mary slipped off the desk, rubbed Jessica's head, and told her, "You'll do just fine. We both love you."

Jessica beamed around my cock.

The door banged opened and Sam walked in, flanked by Candy. "I think Lilith may have done something to Fiona."

"What?" I asked her as Jessica released my cock.

"It's possible she's a trap," Sam answered. "Fiona was left alone in the Mayor's house with none of Lilith's children to guard her. The demoness had to know we were coming for her soon. She was ready to escape when your forces assaulted."

"Lilith meant for her to get captured?" Mary asked.

Sam nodded. "What if Lilith intends for you to exorcise her. She's a Warlock, right?"

"Yeah," I answered. "She's made some Pact with Lilith."

"Well, Lilith knows a lot. What if she baited Fiona somehow. If you try to exorcise her, it's possible for it to backfire and harm you. Maybe even kill you."

Mary paled, swallowing, and a chill ran through me.

Candy nodded. "It's what I would do. And Lilith is a crafty bitch!"

"Then how do we interrogate her?" Mary asked. "I'm not sure I can torture Fiona. She was one of ours, Mark."

It left a queasy feeling in my stomach, but we needed to know about Lilith's plans. "Maybe there is a way," I realized, glancing at my wife. "When you made your Pact with the Devil, Mary, what did you wish for?"

Tir – Sangi, the Democratic Republic of Congo

I watched Thamina, my birth-mother, sit disconsolately on the doorstep of a rough hut.

Fiona, her wife, never made it to the rendezvous. She was dead or captured; my birth-mother grieved her absence. We were in one of the three villages filled with the women we rescued from several 'refugee' camps in the jungles of Africa. In these camps, vile men called 'warlords' would wander in and claim these women for his men to be raped. Well, Mother sent my sisters and I to save them, and we made short work of a dozen of those bands. These women, recognizing the divinity of Mother, welcomed her embrace. By the end of the week, an army of my sisters would be born and we would retake Seattle.

"Mother will save her," I said, hugging my birth-mother.

"No, she won't." Despair creased her dusky face. "Lilith doesn't care."

"Of course Mother cares," I protested. Mother loved all her followers; she said so all the time. "You're just sad, but Fiona will be fine." She buried her face in my chest, and I held my birth-mother, and chirped a reassuring song to her. My song trilled beautifully, soft and comforting, and I rocked her as she sobbed, gently stroking her black hair.

"Tir," Mother purred.

I shuddered in delight, looking up at a perfect face framed by silver hair. Lilith. My Mother. She was the Ideal woman, the mold all others were imperfectly cast from. Her lust poured over me, over us. Even my sobbing mother shuddered in pleasure. Lilith ignored my birth-mother, staring down at me.

"How is the disease progressing?"

"Wormwood is spreading through the population," I answered, reaching out to sense my half of the disease.

I could feel it. Every man who drank from the city's water supply. The man he infected on his way to work, to school, to breakfast, to the gym. Some left the city, spreading it to the communities surrounding Seattle. Others entered the city and became infected. Even better, some had boarded planes, traveling to other parts of the United States and to other parts of the world. When the symptoms started manifesting in a few days, the world would descend into chaos.

"Wormwood?" Lilith asked. "That is what you're calling it?"

"It seemed appropriate, Mother."

Mother laughed, rich, beautiful. It made my song sound like an off-tune screech. "It does."

Fiona Cavanagh – Murano Hotel, Tacoma, WA

I lay on the hotel bed, watched by two of Mark's disgusting bodyguards. They still wore the same, ridiculously slutty, cop outfits. Though the chokers with their number printed on them was new.

How degrading. Mark couldn't even call them by their names, he just assigned them numbers. A pig who viewed women as nothing more than objects to satiate his myriad, twisted lusts. And that whore he married was even worse. Not only did she tolerate his degrading behavior, she encouraged it by finding women and serving them up to him so he could feast upon them.

I didn't recognize the two bodyguards. Of course they were beautiful, and Mark dressed them in such demeaning outfits. The Hispanic guard's large tits looked about ready to spill out of her top, and she wore no bra to give those large breasts any support, poor girl. Her number was 127. Next to her stood 126, a porcelain faced, Korean beauty. When did he get that many bodyguards?

I gave a snort of laughter. He's taken over the entire country, would soon control the entire world, and had driven my Goddess from her place of power, and here I am wondering when they expanded their bodyguards. Get your priories straight, woman!

I curled up on the bed, hugging a pillow, and wondered if Thamina was okay. And Ziki, my daughter with Lilith. She had been masquerading as Nate Kirkpatrick, head of Human Resources for the city of Seattle. Were they alive? The warehouse had been burned down. Did Thamina escape? She could make a portal to the Shadows, so she should have been able to escape. I didn't want to lose my dusky, Arab princess! She must have escaped!

Right?

And what was going to happen to me? Would Mark try to make me his whore again? No. My deal with Lilith should protect me from his control. So what would they do to me? Rape me? Torture me for information? I remembered how they treated Karen when she attacked them. They degraded her, broke her spirit until she agreed to be their little slut. Would they do that to me? Force me to be their whore again and wear that loathsome choker?

For a moment I couldn't breath, remembering the choker tight about my neck, strangling the will and dignity out of me. No! I'm a free woman! I will not submit to their vile lusts again!

At noon, they brought me a hamburger and fries for lunch. If I had any hope of escaping, I needed to keep my strength up. That's what people always said in movies in these situations. Keep my spirits up, keep my strength up, and wait for my captors to mess up and take my chances with an escape. After I ate, they let me use the bathroom, but one of the guards, 127 and her huge tits, followed me in.

As I sat on the toilet, pissing, I eyed her gun. I could go for it, grab it and shoot my way out.

The guard shifted, sensing my gaze and turning her body so the gun was on the other side. A warning look flashed across her dark face. I flushed. Crap! Now they would be more careful. When I finished peeing, the guard watched me wipe myself.

"You can take a shower," 127 told me.

"Are you going to watch?" I asked.

She gave me an apologetic smile. "Those are my orders. You should get used to this. Criminals always get watched."

"Is that what I am?" I asked, a bitter taste in my mouth. I reached into the shower and turned the knobs.

"Of course," she answered. "You served their enemies."

"We're fighting for you," I told her as I disrobed. "For every woman oppressed by a man."

"I'm not oppressed."

I laughed. "They why do you dress like a slut? You do it for Mark's perverse amusement."

"And why shouldn't my God delight in my form? Aren't I a gorgeous, sexy woman?"

"You're his slave, his toy!" I snapped at her.

"So? I chose to be their slave." Her eyes burned with fervor. "When I saw them wreathed in flames, standing triumphant before that false god Brandon, I knew I had to serve them. I quit my job, dumped my boyfriend, and traveled here." An exultant smile filled her face. "And they let me serve them. A flawed, imperfect human unworthy of their time or attention. Being their whore is a small price to pay." She let out a long, low sigh. "No, it was a wonderful price to pay. Her pussy tastes divine and his cock feels magical as it pistons inside me!"

I stared dumbfounded at her, then shut the shower curtain. She was like Alison and the other sluts that chose to stay with him. No, she was worse. The other sluts were clearly suffering from Stockholm syndrome. But this woman chose Mark; I shuddered at the thought.

"Guards have died for them, why would you chose that?" I asked her.

"I was a cop. I already decided to put my life on the line for others. This is no different." There was a pause. "No, this is very different. They're the Living Gods, the hope for mankind in defending against the demons. Like your foul Lilith!"

I stiffened. "My Goddess just wants to liberate women from the oppression of men! We are not objects to be used and discarded at their whims! We're smarter, more compassionate, more loving! We're not violent, we wouldn't cause war and suffering!"

She snorted a laugh. "Trust me, women can be just as violent, oppressive, and harmful as men."

There was no talking to this bimbo, and I turned my back and tried to enjoy my shower. With the curtain shut, I almost felt alone. Almost. I tried to ignore her shadow, the sound of her booted heels clicking on the tiled floor, and the muffled squawk of her radio.

"You're clean," 127 barked, finally growing impatient.

I reached out, shut the water off. A towel was flung over the curtain; I dried myself off, wrapping it around my hair. I opened the curtain, and I put on a terry cloth robe with the hotel's monogram.

Mark and Mary awaited me in the hotel room.

My blood chilled as Mark's blue eyes fixed on me and I suddenly felt naked; I clutched the robe tight around me. Oh, Goddess, this is it! He's going to try and make me his whore again. I started to tremble and froze in place. Be strong! You have to survive. For Thamina and for Lilith. They can only harm my body, not my mind.

Not my soul!

"Hello, Fiona," Mary purred and I flushed.

My eyes slid to her and I remembered just how beautiful she was, the most gorgeous, sexy, radiant woman in the world. A warmth spread through my loins. I licked my lips, remembering how soft and moist her lips were. I used to love nursing at her perky breasts, and worshiping at her delicious cunt—sweet and spicy and wonderful on my tongue. Goddess, what was wrong with me. My nipples hardened. The terry cloth robe rubbed pleasantly on my sensitive nubs, and I squeezed my thighs together, trying to relieve the ache in my loins.

"I see that you're not immune to all my powers," Mary cooed.

"How?" I asked. Mark had tried to give me orders already. "Lilith protected me from your mind control. We made a Pact!"

"I wished for all women to desire me," Mary answered. "Lilith told me it wasn't mind control. It merely lowered your inhibitions until you can't control your desire for me."

Mary stood up, slipping off the light, green dress she wore. She was naked underneath, beautiful, perfectly formed. Oh, Goddess, she was right. I wanted her so bad. I struggled, forcing my desire down. I pictured Thamina. I just needed to focus on my wife and fight these desires. She walked to me, her ass swaying. Her stomach was round, her pregnancy starting to show. I wanted to kiss her belly, and rub my face against her silky skin.