The Pact

Francis couldn’t believe his eyes when he arrived at Samantha’s house and she answered the door, dressed in a semi-transparent black and red lingerie set, gloved hands at her hips. Were it not attached to the rest of his body, his square jaw would have literally dropped to the floor.

“Oh, my God! You look…”

“Stunning?” She teased, biting her lower lip.

Boy, that was quite the understatement! Try as he may, all words he could think of felt wrong for it was not just the striking choice of attire that made his heart race but the complete physical transformation that came with it. Though he loved his best friend for many reasons, beauty wasn’t one of them. She was stubby, overweight, her hair always looked like it had put been through a blender first thing in the morning and her almond-shaped eyes were dull as if she had lived through a thousand life times already instead of just twenty-eight years. Now, she stood taller than him, a blonde statuesque Goddess with E-cup breasts, full lips and a penetrating stare that shook his soul to the core. It was impossible, beyond the wildest of fantasies.

“I… yes, but… how? I don’t understand…” he blabbered, all thoughts in disarray. He pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t stuck in a crazy erotic dream, the reddish mark on his wrist immediately putting that notion to the rest.

“I had some help. Come in and I’ll tell you all about it.” She replied, beckoning him with a sultry finger.

Francis followed her lead, stepping from the porch into the entrance hallway and then into the living-room. It had been many months since the last time he was there and the space looked noticeably different, too. The Persian rug she used to be so proud of was nowhere to be seen, and the antique furniture had been pushed to the sides to leave a circular clearing by the fireplace. Smudges of white wax laid scattered around the rim of his new geometrical arrangement, as if it had burned there hundreds of candles. Atop the mantelpiece rested an old scroll, written in strange crimson letters.

“What sort of help?” He gasped. Despite the scorching logs, the room temperature was unnaturally low and he shivered. Samantha, on the other hand, looked positively indifferent to the frost covering the windows all around.

“The kind only She can give…” She replied, taking a seat on a dark-green sofa. “Won’t you join me?”

“Only if you tell me exactly what you mean. Who is she? And aren’t you cold?”

“Of course not. Her name is Amaria though she prefers to be called Goddess and so do I. We made a pact and this is the result. It’s Her you have to thank for all of this…” She cupped her boobs and smirked.

“Pact?” Francis furrowed his brow in utter disbelief. “You’re kidding, right? You didn’t actually summon a demon, did you?”

“I guess you can say we reached out to one another. I wanted to change, she wanted a new devotee. Together, we’re stronger than apart. And way hotter, too.”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“No, dear, I’m not.” She spread her legs wide open, wet panties demanding his attention. “My thoughts have never been clearer, my goal is now set in stone. I called you here to share the bliss. Amaria can change you too if you just give in.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because She can unleash your innermost desires from the prison you keep them locked in. And it’s all so simple, really! All it takes is an act of commitment. Submit to me and you are submitting to Her. Be honest: how does ‘Mistress’ and ‘slave’ sound to you?”

“It sounds like madness, like everything else you’re telling me!” He backed away from her, legs trembling.

“Ah, yes… She told me you would probably not be as open as expected, but that’s okay. Mesmerizing beauty is but one gift my Goddess gave me. The other one is so much better…” She slithered on the sofa.

Instinctively, Francis reached for a fire poker and held it above his head. “I don’t want to know what that is. I just want to leave, okay? Let me go, Sam. Please!”

“No. Never again.” The one he used to call ‘friend’ hissed. “You have so much to learn. Your lessons in slavery begin right now.”

Samantha’s eyes glowed red as he froze in place.


 

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S. B.

Simple Being, Middle name Creative. Writer and artist with a penchant for themes of Female Domination, Hypnosis and Mind Control. My thoughts are my own except when they're not.

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