The Devil’s Pact Slave Chronicles
by mypenname3000
Copyright 2015

Via: Freedom

Note: Mary gave Mark’s sister Via to be her sex slave.

Thursday, June 27th, 2013 – Avialle “Via” Willard – South Hill, WA

“Listen carefully, Avialle,” my Mistress said to me as we sat on our bed. She used my full name and held my hands gently and lovingly. I was lost gazing in her hazel eyes.

I had only been Antsy’s slave for a week-and-a-half. My former Mistress, Mary, had given me to this wonderful, outgoing woman. Before me, Antsy hadn’t had a lot of experience with women, and I was her guide into the delights only one woman could impart to another. We kissed, sucked, and licked every inch of the other’s delectable flesh, and my Mistress was generous enough to share her urine with me, filling my mouth with her delicious piss at least twice a day.

“Okay, Mistress,” I answered with a smile. She was so beautiful with a heart-shaped face; luxurious, black hair that I loved to stroke; big eyes; and plump, oh-so-kissable lips. My heart beat faster. Her hands were warm silk on mine and her spicy perfume left me feeling heady; I was drunk on her. Those lips were so inviting.

I leaned in to kiss her.

Her finger pressed against my lip. “Wait, we have something very important to discuss.” She took a deep breath. “For the next twenty-four hours you are free to make your own decisions and you are not under my control.”

My thoughts suddenly cleared, a fog dissolving in the light of the morning sun. “I…what…” My cheeks colored as I remembered the last week-and-a-half. “Oh, damn. What did you do to me?”

Antsy shifted uncomfortably. “My future sister-in-law, well, she mind-controlled you. And I…I’ve come to care for you. You’re a wonderful, exciting woman and I just don’t feel like forcing you to anything, even if you enjoyed it. Deep inside me, I could just feel how wrong it was.”

I bit my lip, my thoughts whirling. “Now what?” Should I be angry? I was only confused.

“I want you to think about this last week. If you want to be free, I’ll set you free,” Antsy answered. “Just…I think you’re wonderful and I’m very sorry for my role in what happened to you. But I want to keep being your Mistress.”

I swallowed. I was made her slave. I enjoyed being her slave. I want to kiss those lips. I want to claw out her eyes. “Shit,” I muttered. “I…fucking shit.”

Then I fled.

My beat-up, shitty Honda civic survived yesterday’s attack with only a single bullet hole. The bullet hole was hard to spot in the dented, right fender. It had been scary when the nun-controlled SWAT officers attacked Mark’s house.

I put that out of my mind. I hopped into my car, started the engine, and drove off.

I was so confused. I needed to talk with someone. I texted Diane; she’d know what to do. I knew Diane from a lesbian club in Tacoma, the Clam Diver. In fact, Diane and introduced me to Mary. They were friends, which kind of concerned me. But I also trusted Diane. I knew she would help me out.

“Cum over sugar,” Diane texted back. “Got a few girls over. Will figure out.”

It took me about a half-hour to drive to Diane’s apartment in Fife. I had to fight through the notoriously bad traffic on Pacific Highway to get there. She lived up on the second floor and I climbed the concrete stairs quickly, breathing heavily as I knocked on her doors.

“Hey, Via,” Diane smiled as she opened her door, a glass of white wine in her hand. “Come in.”

Diane had thick, curly black hair that fell about her shoulders and framed a porcelain face set with pouty lips and deep, brown eyes. She was dressed casually, a flowery top that left most of her shoulders and chest bare, held up only by a pair of spaghetti straps and a tight pair of white jeans.

I gave her a quick hug and a peck on the cheek and followed her in. “Hi,” I said to the two women. I recognized both from the club. The first I always had thought of as Orange because of the garish shade she dyed her hair, but Diane introduced her as Kristina.