The Devil's Pact, Cult of the Ghost Chapter 3: Winter - Sex Stories

The Devil's Pact, Cult of the Ghost Chapter 3: Winter

The Devil's Pact, The Cult of the Ghost by mypenname3000 Copyright 2015 Chapter Three: Winter Wednesday, November 21st, 2013 – Deidre Cheshire – Cassia County, ID I hadn't been to my dead aunt's ranch since I was a kid. It seemed the same now as it had then, like time had stopped for this one spot and the rest of the world had moved on. Right into the hands of Mark Glassner. The main house was painted a faded blue, rising three stories at the center around several barns and sheds. My great-grand father had built it to house his rather large family at the turn of the last century. But with thirty women, it was going to be cramped. “Let's get everything inside,” I clapped. The thirty of us had pooled our resources before we left, clearing out every store in Paris for supplies: sleeping bags, dry goods, and canned food. Dr. Savitri Anada, our resident gynecologist, had brought as much medical supplies from her clinic as she could. I touched the gold amulet around my neck, brushing the inlaid green jade and black jet. All the power our devotion to the Ghost had generated was contained in this amulet. I had to use a lot of it to keep that Sheriff from molesting Lizzy. The new, sexual freedom of the Theocracy had definitely let some men think they could fuck any woman they wanted. And since that was the way the false god Mark acted, it wasn't at all surprising. “It's nice,” Rhonda May smiled, hefting a sleeping bag. Her twin sister carried a crate of canned food. With this amulet, ...

... and the seven unborn daughters of the Ghost, we would yank him out of Hell. The Boone High cheer squad hauled out bags of flour and rice, still wearing their black-and-gold uniforms. Three of them—Ursula, Kelly, and Latonya—were pregnant. I knew they were all carrying girls. I cast a spell to make sure their fetuses were female. Lizzy, the smallest and youngest member of the cult, strained to carry supplies. She was another mother-to-be. The last two were Tammy, a young woman, and Carla, the former ghost hunter. I lugged supplies in with the rest, the inside of the house cold and dusty. The woodpile alongside the barn was well stocked with more than enough to make it through the winter. We'd probably have to use the fireplace and wood burning stove to keep the house warm. “What are we going to about the Sheriff?” Carla whispered, falling in along beside me, her red curls tumbling about her shoulders. “I'll use the illusions to distract him again,” I told her. “But that takes power. Aren't we going to need to stockpile it as we near our due dates?” She patted her stomach “Will you be able to keep it up?” I frowned, thinking back to the Tenets of Respect and Worship, the Chinese book from which I had learned the ancestral magic. There was a defensive spell in it. It would require the other amulets. “I think there's a last resort we can prepare. Hopefully, we can keep the pig distracted until he find something else to amuse him.” “Fucking pervert,” she muttered. “So, what's this ...