Not Quite a White Witch - Book 1 - Cover

Not Quite a White Witch - Book 1

Copyright© 2020 by LolaPaul

Chapter 3: CEOs Meat Late at Night

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 3: CEOs Meat Late at Night - While our hero celebrates his victory over Larry, Sam does some work for him. First she mind-fucks Barnes. Second Sam gets an office with Resha as her toy Service Girl. Third Sam and Barnes meet at a hotel to consummate their new deal in a bed. Things do not go as Barnes planned, because Sam has the power and they both know it.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Coercion   Consensual   NonConsensual   Lesbian   Heterosexual   Fiction   FemaleDom   Indian Female   Analingus   Oral Sex   Safe Sex  

Wednesday Night at 11:00 PM
A Suite At The The Blank Hotel

Late that night Sam and Barnes met in her suite at the Blank hotel, an unmarked and externally very plain building a few blocks off Santa Monica Boulevard.

From the outside the hotel was as bland and commonplace as any other building in the area, although the roof area seemed to be strangely obscured. There were an ever-changing variety of trendy shops and offices on the first few floors. However, inside the hotel proper the black rock decor put one in the mind of the “StarGate” movie (NOT the low-budget TV show), only darker, more alien and somehow much more sinful. All interior corridor walls and most rooms were sheathed in the trademark semi-polished black rock slabs. Active light fixtures were limited to those which were essential, one effectively moved between pools of light demarcated by deep shadows. The AC was unique, the rock walls were internally cooled so the lobby and hallways felt like the desert on a winter night. (The room thermostats worked fine.) The staff seemed to have been selected for their alien and slightly androgynous features; they were dressed and styled accordingly. The whole atmosphere suggested sex and sin in some way. There were rumors of orgies, nude weddings, pagan festivals (or impossible combinations thereof), and even more bizarre events taking place in the very expensive private meeting rooms.

There were also occasional reports of alien space ships seen dropping guests off on the roof, but some things are too far out and even by LA standards they must be classed as overactive imaginations or a poor choice in pharmaceuticals. Everybody knows that space ships stay in orbit, guests use transporters. Rumor has it the hotel was equipped with all three types - leased from the manufacturers.

Of course, some folks will believe anything, especially when self-medicated.

Officially, the hotel was not yet open for business, only stakeholders and their guests, plus selected celebrities, could book rooms, meals or events.

Still, the hotel already had a reputation for being extremely pricey, and was the most discrete.

Sam’s suite had a large office desk, an intimate dinner table set for two and a bed in a spacious open arrangement that was decidedly under-lit. Sam wore an expensive-looking robe when Barnes arrived promptly at 11. There were some folding screens set up at the edge of the “office” light pool and at her invitation he stepped behind one to exchange his “boring and inappropriate” suit for a very comfortable robe of what felt like quilted silk, black with a complex silver pattern accented in red, in a style that seemed appropriate for the Imperial Japanese Ninja delegation to Babylon 5. After he donned his slippers his robe was exactly floor length, the perfect height for his frame. It was, however, far too wide.

Sam’s robe was shorter, and a strange off-white in color. In front it went to mid-thigh, and she managed to deliberately expose her lack of undergarments within a few minutes of his arrival. Those private bits of flesh looked very inviting. Her look dared him to comment, but he just smiled appreciatively.

That worked for her.

They got through the 30-day contract quickly. Barnes found Stern’s language painfully straightforward and direct but it passed Crux’s review so he signed without any changes, as did Sam. The money was wired as scheduled and acknowledged, then the pre-ordered meal was delivered. Sam had seared shrimp prepared “with Goa spices,” which were unique and fragrant. They smelled alive in a way. The spices appeared to include exotic flowers, possibly with insects, but Barnes dared not inquire. Barnes had ordered his thick steak very rare, and said “hold the salad, and anything else that was planted.”

He said to Sam, “By skipping the potato it becomes a heart-healthy protein meal.”

She agreed that he was very wise.

Sam suddenly had a pill “to relax - it makes things pink” if Barnes was interested. It seemed to appear as if by magic, it was too sudden for some slight of hand.

But he was pleased to stick with scotch for his mood adjustment. “To each their own I guess,” she said as she popped the pill into her mouth. This was a lie, her master predicted Barnes would refuse, so they made other delivery arrangements; the drug coated the inside of his glass. At his first sip of scotch she had him.

“Is that pill an illegal substance?” Barnes asked with suspicion.

“My Lil’Pink? Why no, it is too new to be illegal ... the supplier prefers it that way. So do customers. Since those are the only ones involved, everybody is happy in this land of the free ... especially when they take the pill,” she said, ending with a giggle that was amazingly erotic to his ear. She did not mention the drug’s subtle addictive qualities. “We consider it a dietary supplement, like garlic pills or fish oil.”

“Can I ask where or who you...”

She cut him off. “It is VERY poor manners to ask that question. Also potentially unhealthy. Cops always ask that question, and they do not mean well when they ask. The supplier prefers not to be identified, except by their own marketing folks. That is his right ... He also believes ... actively ... in the Second Amendment.”

Barnes knew what that meant, so he mimed putting his natural curiosity aside.

The food was wonderful. The steak was like the creature was totally relaxed before being killed, butchered and then cooked by being passed very slowly over a searing hot pan three times. Barnes had never had a better cut of meat.

Sam said he had to try the shrimp and, after examining to make sure nothing moved or looked back at him on the morsel, he found it as close to being alive as any he had enjoyed. Barnes said he had no idea which he would order next time.

“You could have both you know,” Sam said. “ ... next time.” The comment, in addition to implying a return, and suggesting something erotic, appealed perfectly to his sense of entitlement. It said to Barnes, “this woman gets me.” Her tone and body language also struck him as being erotic, like it was not just the food but her body that he might enjoy several pleasures from.

He suddenly flashed on a mental image of Sam with that dark-skinned service girl ... Resha, naked and doing things in bed for pleasure as he watched to revive his erection. In a very un-Barnes thought, he realized he could not hope to make them both happy. He realized that he NEVER cared about the female he was fucking and whether she was happy, it was not like him. So why would he think such a thing now?

After getting relaxed at home (his wife and daughter were very effective) he checked his office log. It showed Resha’s call from Sam’s office. At the time he imagined Sam wearing a strap-on as she used the smaller girl. Maybe that triggered it.

Barnes had enjoyed the law firm’s sweet dark meat two or three times, when he was feeling adventurous. She was quite good, and she looked amazing naked on her knees, taking his cock in her mouth. He always made sure he gave her a spurt or two on the dark skin of her face, then watched her pink tongue come out to lick it up. To him it was a game they played, and she went along. He wondered about enjoying her other options. The lawyers were not supposed to do that, but the girl seemed so helpless. Plus, her body was especially beautiful.

He recalled when Resha was hired; as none of the lawyers were black they normally did not hire black service girls. Their evaluator said Resha was darker then Halle Berry, but her facial features would be normal on a white girl from Texas. One of the partners had written “India?” on the headshot, and of course that proved correct. To Barnes the skin color did not matter. She had very nice large breasts for such a skinny girl. The other evaluations were all positive so Barnes approved her hiring. She got the best marks in her training group so they kept her. She got very good marks from the lawyers who chose her, and seemed to have a following in the firm. Her probation was up soon, she would get a nice pay raise and more hours, but from all accounts she was worth it. One of the other girls would be eased out.

There were some lawyers who insisted on white girls with blond hair, but the firm had over a dozen of those.

He suddenly felt a wave of extra good feeling wash over his body, and thought he was responsible.

In Sam’s mind it was almost time to try her companion’s white meat for dessert. Sam saw his lopsided smile - it was very uncharacteristic of his face, using muscles dormant for a decade or more - and she knew the drug coating the inside of the glass had done its work. He had one foot in the pink and was sinking deeper fast.

They each had a few bites left, and they were loath to leave them, it was so good. But their other appetites were aroused. Without really noticing what they were doing they both touched themselves.

As they finished the meal both were on the same wavelength regarding what came next. After mutual appraising looks Barnes observed that, when two men closed a deal they might bring female associates or two, as a social lubricant. He said how typically they could watch the ladies “warmup together” before each CEO did “what was expected” to consummate the deal in what he considered the modern Left-coast civilized manner.

Sam said that such thinking had evolved since the dinosaurs, there were more women running things, and gender roles were not so rigid. She countered by suggesting that if he brought an appropriate woman, like a wife-exchange partner, Sam would make sure she appreciated her part in the ceremony, and so would he for many nights after. In an instant Barnes got very hard, he wondered who he might bring, a service girl, his daughter who attended wife exchanges, or perhaps a junior partner’s wife; some of those were very attractive and made it clear that to him, they were always available “for the good of the firm.”

Barnes realized how much on the same wavelength they were, then continued to expand his original thought. As one man and one women he assumed others were not needed for the obvious, although they could still be pleasant, but his point now was that somebody still had to lead. He said he was the gentleman (he lied) so he indicated she should be the one to move things from the dinner table to the “the next stage, when she was ready.”

She was ready, she was smiling seductively and untying her robe as she rose. However, after the initial stages things did not go as Barnes expected.

Barnes had never “closed a deal” in this manner with a female CEO he perceived as being so very powerful relative to him, but now he recalled the dark web listing of his hated ex-brother-in-law and understood where the power resided. Nor had he ever been with a CEO who was from this younger generation, so he wondered at their practices. Sam had said something about evolution. Was there more oral sex? Maybe she expected anal? Or at least a finger in back? He had thought of her using Resha with a strap-on, maybe she wanted to give him ... with such a toy ... NO, he should avoid that thought. Also, he had never bedded anyone who was so intently eager for sex ... her way.

He also believed that the scotch he had finished was only scotch, from a sealed bottle and a clean glass. So one might say she lied too.

His mood was oriented toward sex, and his normal inhibitions were far more suppressed than he realized.

The room was lit with spotlights creating three distinct pools of light; at the desk, the table, and the bed. The lights had different subtle tints for the different activities. The rest of the room was in shadow, with very dark areas between the light pools. It was hard to shake the feeling that other people might be in the dark areas.

Barnes watched as Sam eagerly rose to her feet, moving as if she could not wait. She had her robe on when she moved as a cool corporate figure in the light of the table into the darkness. But she was entirely naked and glowing rosy hot, a sexual avatar, as she emerged from shadow into the light pool by the bed. In his eyes she seemed transformed: from a figure of corporate gravity into something taller, sinuous, dangerous and supremely sexual. She walked slowly around the bed, it was a bit of drama that exposed her back, both sides and front to him. That walk revealed a woman quite unlike any woman he had seen before.

Sam’s nude body revealed an extensive variety of large and small tattoos, body mods, implants, decorative scars, piercings, and some damaged flesh that could be the reminders of serious damage, including what looked like a large burn scar on one shoulder and across her back. He had seen such things in movies. In his mind such markings were associated with witches. Women who shared their beds with demons and devils.

The one word that leapt to Barnes when he took in her markings was “pain.” He thought again, “sinuous, dangerous and supremely sexual.”

One tattoo in particular was prominent and drew the eye; it was a bright red “slut stamp” very low on her lower back that was repeated low on her belly, just above the pubic mound. It said, in both locations, “Candy Slut to Paulo Zero.” The words of the tattoo were in a pre-Columbian language that Barnes would never have a hint of. In addition, like a Bay area poster from the psychedelic era the tat’s lettering was very stylized, even if it was in English it would be near impossible to read. Some English word fragments were visible in the edging and lines of the distorted shapes. Incorporated into the tat were sexual images and triggers that were well disguised, but made a subconscious impression like a hit on the head with a silver hammer. None of the images stood out, you had to stare for a moment at an area before the eye resolved an explicit graphic image. If you stared longer, they seemed to move.

Some of the tats were monochrome black, others were in photorealistic color.

As she mounted the bed - on all fours with her back toward Barnes - Sam showed no modesty or inhibition about her body. Instead he saw the act as an invitation saying, “I am yours, drink your pleasure fully.” In an exaggerated movement she casually stretched her leg to open herself, parting the folds of her valley, exposing the hot pink flesh along the length of her pussy. The pink seemed to glow unnaturally for his eyes. For a moment she took a kneeling pose on the bed to exhibit the pucker of her ass, then stretched up and forward as if doing a slow dive into the sheets, posing for a moment with her butt in the air before she turned to rest on her back.

The movement reminded him of an orca. They were creatures that killed sharks for fun, and gang-raped their own females.

To Barnes the series of movements was as deliberate and practiced as yoga or that Chinese group exercise he never learned the name of. Except it was blatantly sexual and it was just for him. His hard erect cock felt tighter and bigger than it ever had when he was half his present age.

Barnes was entranced and fascinated at how Sam made the bed her own personal space, almost like it was an extension of her intimate body. Simply entering the space would be tantamount to penetrating her. He also felt a pressing, compelling male need to enter her physical body and discharge his business as pleasure.

After seeing her demonstration, he felt an incredible desire to relieve himself in her ass. He had to shake that off, he knew that if his cock enjoyed the embrace of that very tight passage he was sure to disgrace himself by ejaculating before he completed entry. That would not do.

Barnes was slower removing the robe, he was a thin tennis player but was not really proud of his body. When he emerged from the shadow he was by the bed, naked, showing his cock proud and very erect; he had taken his own blue pill for insurance before he entered the hotel. His cock stood in a perfect horizontal from his shaved pubes; several of the young wives-of-partners he bedded had suggested that shaving contributed to better oral sex. In fact, they were willing to do the very personal service for him themselves ... with extras before and after, if he was interested.

Instead his daughter shaved him, she loved him and like massage it was a loving service she could perform without guilt. He returned the favor of shaving her bare, as a love gift of his own time and effort. Eventually they made it a weekly ritual for just the two of them that they looked forward to. It was sexual and naughty, but they didn’t cross the line. Afterward his wife benefitted from his arousal while his daughter watched and used a toy as she stayed in contact with them, sharing their pleasure and love.

When Sam saw his member for the first time she felt is as nicely sized, showing more length rather than girth relative to most nerds she knew intimately. She could enjoy it as long as he was not a complete loser in how he employed it. So she gifted him with an inviting smiled.

Falling down on this part of the job was unforgivable for any leader of men, in his mind the spectre of doubt lurked in the shadows. But her welcoming smile drove the shadows back and dissolved the spectre ... for a moment.

Like a proud child he held a rubber for Sam to see, then he put it on; he was a cautious person about some things. Sam smiled her general approval at something, but it was a private smile of disapproval, he knew the difference. He approached the bed.

“Not bad, certainly better than I expected,” Sam said as she slowly took a good look at him, stopping him in his tracks. “You don’t look like a golfer, but I bet you win at tennis.” The words were perfect to stroke his ego, combining praise he valued without testing reality.

In fact, despite his age he was better in body than so many of the nerds who had routinely penetrated her body, usually too briefly, living the past few years in the co-op. But she had also known a man who was a demigod on Earth, plus Marta’s wonderful tall trained lovers. The anticipation of some time with her Master tomorrow is what got her wet. She kept that thought uppermost in her mind; it kept her juices flowing.

His cock got a little stiffer with her words as he approached and got a better look at her charms. Her desire was displayed under the spotlight.

A man like Barnes did not look at a woman through the eyes and the drives of a teenager. He appraised her mind and her power as well as her body for how it might serve. Sam’s flesh, glowing a healthy pink under the subtle tinting of the light, looked very good from this angle. Inviting. She was not model thin, in fact she was not even up to the standards of his worst service girl, but he imagined he saw her witchlike powers captured in the varied and abundant ornamentation that seemed to cover her. From that angle it struck him as both powerfully exotic and very ‘womanly’ while also looking youngish. He judged her as ripe, ready to make a child. Also, in his eyes he saw her body overlaid with a collection of great skills and tools, knowledge of practices that were almost spells to him, as he did not understand their source. But he understood that her mind and her raw power activated those spells. The combination had terrified and defended him that afternoon. It was his task to use all his power, including his cock, to enlist those powers again, to continue their service to him and his collective. In this he was, for the first time ever, the supplicant.

He knew from the way she posed on the bed that she had been with many men, but his mind saw that as experiences gained, not experience expended using her up. The various markings on her body lent an air of taboo excitement, her canvas was nothing like a small rose or a dolphin or other simple tat sported as “her naughty” by the young wife of a junior partner he might bed. The overwhelming sense was of great pain, there was nothing light or whimsical here. Sam displayed markings all over, contributing to her witchlike air. As he got closer he saw the markings were even on the nipples of her breasts. He imagined many, many hours she had spent naked as a man or men applied pain and ink to her body, in all places. (He never considered female tattoo artists.) Did that pain and exposure excite her? Did the men pleasure her before or after? Or perhaps during the pain? How could they not partake of her body, posed and exposed for hours as they worked? The temptation was obvious.

He imagined men working in pairs, naked at their task; one with the steel tattoo needle giving her pain while the other used his flesh tool to devour the pain. They traded off. She writhed in pleasure and pain for them both. He wondered at other possibilities, but only in passing.

As he looked she ran a finger along her side, on a patch of bare skin just below her ribs. “I may add something here, to mark this new chapter ... or maybe do something naughtier. I have some ideas about piercings.”

Barnes was struck by that, he could not have imagined it, but when she said it he felt honored that this powerful skilled woman would summon more pain to mark her body as a memory of him. Of course, he misunderstood and thought it was about him and his firm, but that was his nature. In his own mind it increased his desire for the encounter to go well.

“Might I watch?” he asked. The words were out before he thought.

“Oh no. The act, the transfer of pain and pleasure, is an intimate rite ... very private.”

As he gazed at her, the most attractive aspects of her body were her two sets of lips, both the thick red natural lips of her mouth, and the deeper, fat, womanly lips at the entrance to her body below, which were swelled with blood from arousal. Where he would find his release. He saw where the lower pair of lips had been slightly reddened forming a vertical kiss, whether by lipstick or a tattoo he could not tell, but it was deliberate, and another wonder that drew his eye. It was plainly something she did for her lovers, a sign that she was receptive. Those lips would swallow his cock and what his balls offered when she allowed him to make themselves one body. He could not wait and moved towards the position of entry.

In fact, his only regret as he examined the prize he intended to plunder was that he could enjoy it only once tonight. He did not consider staying over, he was too old to rely on his body for such things. Well, there would be more contracts, the next in less than 30 days. He decided that accepting bids from her competitors would be a waste of time and a potential breech of security as well. His partners would urge him to solicit bids, but fuck them, he knew they would all fall short so why waste the time?

That was the moment when things shifted as she casually tore all control away from him.

He did not plan to wait to please his cock, it was the way he did things. Other people waited for him. But she had a different way of doing things, and she commanded the change.

Her words took on the character of a song - or a spell chanted. “Okay, you have had a good long look at paradise. ‘Now, if you want to kiss the sky, better learn how to pray. On your knees boy.’ Get in here and eat my pussy, Slick.”

Barnes caught the Edge in the rise and fall of her voice; in his younger days he was a fan of Bono’s crew so he knew where the words were from. “Mysterious Ways” indeed! It was both fitting, and very clear. A command he had to obey.

Barnes was, at his heart, a salesman. He got through law school, but was a lousy lawyer. He sold his firm to clients by outlasting other firms in unending negotiations regarding tiny details, and always having a shiny new idea from left-field to dazzle the client, until the deal was a mountain of tinsel obscuring a tiny tree. The point is, he had never really accomplished anything real.

But from her tone he knew in a flash he had better accomplish this. He had to please her in the way she demanded, failure was too horrible to contemplate.

Well, at least it would use his very educated tongue.

It had been many years since senior partner Barnes had been addressed so, with a blunt order for sexual service, like a lowly service girl. But her words held the power she had shown him this afternoon, so that was the pose he now took. Barnes was surprised to discovered he was already on his knees, he just could not recall doing that. The reversal of role in his mind tumbled the fortress of his ego. His mental image of Sam morphed in an instant from a seductive geisha to a huge terrible dragon, with him transformed a tiny figure, naked, helpless, and emasculated. He thought of the spider where the female is enormous next to the male, and that other insect where the male’s head was removed while he contributed his seed, so his body could also nourish their offspring. As she spoke her command he recalled the computer screen with firm’s name and password for sale. The firm was all he valued.

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