Not Quite a White Witch Ch. 01

Sam was in the mood for a few more kisses and Resha almost died with pleasure as they each tasted the essence of very old scotch and very fresh pussy juice on their lips and tongues. There was still plenty of scotch in the bottle, so they enjoyed some more as they held each other.

After 75 minutes together the two were drying from a second shower when Sam's bots chirped the completion of their appointed tasks. They had visited and done their assigned deeds, molesting each computer in the building, bringing them to Sam's command. Sam did not rush to their call, she said patting dry Resha's back - with extra kisses - was more important, plus she whispered how it was so hard to take her hands off the small, damp, naked service girl. Resha shivered at the words, Sam's hands praised Resha's body in a way her figure deserved, but had never known from any man or woman until now.

Resha vowed to herself that, whatever it cost her, she would know this pleasure again.

As Resha prepared to leave she moved as if she was going to her knees; kissing the feet is an Indian ritual, and she felt impelled to offer it.

Sam stopped her. "You have been my delight to pleasure, and the truth is that I am a servant far more than you. So let us put that little ritual aside, until we may both render it to the one who is deserving, the demigod who walks the earth, and has smiled upon us."

Resha recognized how Sam had used the same words as Li. "Who...?" Resha asked, seeking confirmation. But Sam just held her hand up, stopping the question.

Their eyes met, Sam's eyes filled Resha, almost hypnotized her with the wisdom and power of the next words. "You will have clearer eyes when you know for yourself," she said.

Resha had no choice as she brought her hands together and dipped her head, acknowledged the goddess and her wisdom within Sam. Then as she left Resha closed the door on the office she now viewed as someplace far better than reality.

As Resha walked past office number 217 she suddenly realized that her pussy, which had never in her life known such heights of pleasure, had been PAID for the last hour! The thought struck her like a blow, her knees almost gave way in wonder. Or did she feel the need to go to her knees before that office? She really could not be sure.

It was only after Resha was gone that Sam turned her attention to her bots. They reported that all the password and firewall changes ordered were done on all the computers connected to both networks; the system was again secure - with some very private back doors added then hidden - until Sam willed otherwise. She had left special instructions on each computer, just in case. Except for one computer on each network, the wi-fi devices, USB ports and other avenues of entry or exit on the network of secure computers were inactive, sleeping until they got the proper command. Those doors were quite invisible behind a firewall that only a special password - a password unknown by any partner - would open. There was a locked file with a full accurate report of events sent to Sam's phone and a unlocked file with a Lawyer-rated report which she put on a time delay to send to Barnes at 10:08 tonight.

The bots eagerly awaited Sam's next command. With a touch of a key Sam instructed them. The bots dutifully scrubbed all trace of themselves from each system, then self-deleted without a log entry. Such obedient bots.

Actually, the report from the bots about their survey of the building computers included one unexpected detail, they were unable to access a Mac tower circa 2002 that was not connected to either the internet-server or the isolated network - as it had no Airport card installed. But it did speak bluetooth. The Car Czar's computer only needed to be connected to his printer, his keyboard (both by wire) and his favorite wireless (bluetooth) mouse so he had no need for the network card. But that wireless mouse was noted. That mouse and the computer's bluetooth both whispered when the bot visited a nearby office and broadcast a "hello" to any device that could respond. That gave them away; Sam's bots noted the unattributed wireless devices, properly deactivated the suspect mouse, and ordered an investigation for the next morning.

The next morning the Car Czar's mouse did not seem to work, and without a working mouse, he really could not figure out why. After a fruitless hour of frustration Car Czar called tech support, who had the printout, brought a wired mouse and fixed the problem in seconds. The Car Czar did not appreciate the change, but he was informed that there were new folks around, and security was the new top priority. His favorite mouse gave him away, it was not allowed. He groused but figured it was not so bad. He was wrong.

An hour later the tech guys came back just as he was heading for the lot to put a plate on a car. After he left they took the precious Mac tower and wheeled in the dreaded replacement which was branded Acer. (Sam's employees were really good, and she scheduled three of them for duty on-site that first morning.)

The Car Czar was a lifelong Steve Jobs fanboy, he even bought a NEXT computer. But at great cost he severed his emotional tie and crawled into a virtual time capsule when Apple changed from the G-series (Motorola chips) to PC-types for their CPUs. Car Czar had stayed happily frozen in time with his lovingly maintained office G4 tower and his home G5 iMac ever since. Now came calamity. When he got back to his office it was all explained to him. He was going to suffer the unique mental agony of learning Windows like a 50 year-old newbie.

The Car Czar thought of his second favorite film, the "Chronicles Of Riddick." There is a scene near the end, when Riddick is shown Kyra, now apparently converted, who speaks of the pain in her conversion. From now until his retirement every keystroke would be a profound torment to him, even as the techs, like the Necromongers in the movie, promised the pain would go away.

Actually, the Car Czar liked any movie where numerous lawyers died horrible deaths, but there were so few good films coming out of Hollywood these days.

-

Chapter 03. CEOs Meat Late At Night

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.