Poe Little Witch Girl

Lenore's tingling ass slid onto one of the stools near his chef-quality kitchen. There were ovens, burners, and griddles for his use. He returned with the sherry from hanging up her damaged coat and his overcoat. He was broad chested and thick armed. His shirt had come open by a few buttons from the throat, and she could see his chest expand with each deep breath. His waist was impossibly narrow before flaring out in muscular thighs.

This might be just the distraction she needed, she thought. She gave her most enticing smile, which caused her host to blink his eyes quickly. "Here is your drink. Just sip it, Lenore."

She smiled over the drink, and took a dainty sip. It surprised her with its alcoholic punch. She licked her lips salaciously. With a coquettish batting of her violet eyes, she downed the entire glass. "Not bad. Hit me again?"

As he poured her another glass, she said, "I probably should ask your name. You know me. So share, big fella. What's your name?"

"My friends call me Jack Scratch."

"Never heard of you." She drank again.

"Yet everyone has heard of you, Lenore. The scariest attorney in Chicago, right? I had heard you were attractive, but you are really beautiful."

"Oh, stop. You'll turn my head." She sipped again.

Jack led her to a comfortable chair that allowed her to lie supine. He hovered, without touching her. She kicked off her shoes, and clenched her toes. He used his large hand to comb softly through her hair, and Lenore found herself rubbing her long legs together at his touch.

"I've heard of you, Lenore. I even know about your case tomorrow."

"Tough case. I need a magic bullet for this one."

He laughed from deep in his chest. The sound almost rattled the rafters. "I don't know of any magic bullets."

"Too bad." She found herself arching her back at his touch, which was now moving down to her cheeks, her throat, and her shoulders. "You're pretty good at this, Jack Scratch."

"Thank you." His fingers loosened her dress while her arms were heavy at her side. "No magic bullet, but could you use a magic potion?" He glanced over his shoulder back at the kitchen. "You'd be surprised what I can whip up."

Lenore moaned as he touched her. "Potion? What would I do with a potion?"

His large hands passed over her body without touching her. Lenore looked down at her writhing body, and saw her shimmery dress slip like water off her body. Her breasts were like inverted champagne glasses, and she wanted him to taste them. The only clothing she still wore was her tiny thong. Her hips pushed forward, inviting him to rip them from her body.

Instead, he drew out a sharp, scythe-like knife. He passed it back and forth above her pussy, like a deadly pendulum, moving slowly closer to her pudenda.

"I could give you a potion that would help you. A drop in the judge's coffee, in the city attorney's tea, and they will be unable to oppose you. Whatever argument you make, you will win. Sweet, isn't it?"

Lenore's eyes were on the pendulum, moving ever closer. "Are you trying to slit my slit?" She reached with her hand and found his muscular chest, his washboard abs rippled under her fingers.

"Why would you want to do this for me? What do you want?"

His eyes had grown golden in the candlelight. She heard the knife/pendulum run across her crotch, ripping her thong just a bit. On the return swing, the pendulum pulled the shredded cloth completely away. This was not the first time she had been naked beneath a man's gaze, but she had never felt so fully exposed. Her pussy fairly dripped with passion. She was ready for Jack Scratch to enter her.

But he was not ready yet. He applied a lotion to her stubble, and then let the knife flash in the candlelight. Lenore struggled to catch her breath. Jack Scratch used the knife to scrape her pubic hair, slowly, so that the noise was loud in the silence of the room. She looked to her left. She saw two green eyes with vertical slits staring unblinking at her white body. Lenore's eyes adjusted to the darkness, and she saw a long sinuous black whip undulating. A cat watched her, a midnight black cat. She felt like a mouse under its gaze, knowing she was being toyed with by a master.

She gasped when she felt a fat drop of hot wax plop on the middle of her chest.

"What the hell?"

"I wanted your attention, Lenore." The candle hovered over her, ready to release another dollop of wax. The next drop covered one champagne glass nipple, smoldering at first, but cooling quickly to capture her tip at its utmost extension.

"Too hot." Her breath came in gasps, the way it did when she was having an orgasm. He moved the candle higher so that the wax would cool as it fell and captured her other nipple. Drops fell on her right thigh, then on her left. She reached for Jack's crotch, but he quickly flipped her onto her stomach.

The candle must have been too close to her ass, because when the next droplets fell they hurt. He brushed them off with his hand, leaving the skin stinging. Then he began the sweet torture again.

"So, do you want a bit of the potion?" He whispered close to her ear.

"Do I drink it?"

"Of course not. You give it to others. It's yours for the asking."

Lenore didn't know whether to arch her back and lift her ass, or to roll into a ball. She wanted to trust this Jack Scratch. She was in his control, and she liked the feeling. No man had ever dominated her the way Jack Scratch was, and he hadn't even tried to fuck her yet. What was he waiting for? Her invitation or her consent?

"Yes," she said. "I'll take your damn potion. Just keep doing what you're doing!"

"Nothing comes without a price."

"So fuck me already!" She stretched her arms and legs like a cat in heat.

Jack Scratch's laugh sounded like a low grumble. "In exchange for you winning the biggest case of your life? Earning the most money you have ever imagined? Becoming the lead partner at your firm? What price do you think I should ask?"

Lenore couldn't think straight, but her lawyer training went deep. "What if I don't win the case?" She imagined, hoped, he wanted to trade the silly potion's phial for a night of making wild monkey love. Of course, he could have that without teasing about the potion.

"How do I get what I pay back?"

"You'll win. In fact, you'll win the entire case by noon tomorrow."

"What do you want?"

"More than your body."

She smirked. He could have her in an instant, she knew.

"What else...?"

He flipped her on her back again. His golden eyes flamed, his nostrils quivered as he gazed at her.

"And..." He began. He ran his hands over the sides of her body. He found her nipples and peeled off the wax, leaving each point so sensitive to the air.

"And... for each drop of potion you use, I want one innocent soul." He hesitated before adding, "Or two deliciously evil souls."

Lenore laughed. "My body has some value — quite a lot judging from your leer. But my soul? I've given that up long ago, Jack Scratch."

"Yes, you have lost nearly all of it, and I'll have it soon anyway. No. I want one innocent soul or two corrupted souls."

"Whose?" This was starting to sound fun to Lenore. It had been a while since she'd enjoyed a three-way. So few were able to keep up with her. But here was Jack Scratch, and she would bet that he was more than able to keep up. He could certainly lead the way. By this time she was willing to concede anything to this wonderfully manipulative man.

"Who should we entice?"

"Annabel Lee."

Lenore stifled a sharp laugh so as not to offend Jack Scratch. As she remembered Annabel's petite figure and bow-like lips, she began to see how fun it would be to corrupt her.

"Do you want me to kidnap her? Drug her? Persuade her?" She watched his face for an answer.

"You must know something about her you're not telling."

"You thought it would be easy. No way, Lenore."

"And if I don't win by noon, you lose right? Annabel Lee keeps whatever it is you want -- call it her soul, if you like. For the big chance to win an un-winable case?" Lenore tried to focus her mind on the agreement, although all it could think of were the excitement waiting for her in the hands of Jack Scratch.

"What the hell. I'll do it."

Jack Scratch smiled. He looked even more wolfish than Tamerlane.

"Bring payment to the Raven's Grin Inn by 10:00 tomorrow night. Otherwise, Lenore, I'll come to collect myself -- starting with you."

Lenore nodded vigorously. She arched her body until only her heels and her shoulders touched the couch.

"Now, fucking ravish me!" she shrieked.

Lenore glistened with sweat as he touched her without entering her. She didn't realize she could become so excited just from the power of fingers, palms, or hands. She desperately wanted to repay the favor, and reached for his crotch. She traced down from his belt against hard muscles, and grabbed for it, and clutched, and gasped.

Nothing.

She traced her palm across his groin. He was as smooth as a Ken doll. She recoiled in horror, unable to stop shuddering.

"Where's your fucking dick?!" she stammered.

If he was embarrassed, he didn't show it. He broadened his smile.

"Old war injury, let's say. But I don't miss it, and I daresay you won't either."

His thick, long, facile tongue protruded to his chin, and then beyond. It swished and flicked while his eyes danced. Lenore heard the black cat hiss then jump from the table. Jack Scratch went down on her newly shaved pussy, while she clawed at his thick black head of hair. He was inside her, finding places that her own fingers sometimes missed. Deeper and deeper his tongue glided, until she began to shake uncontrollably. Then, to Lenore's total embarrassment, she began to moan, then shout, then scream at the top of her lungs with pleasure. She was sure her heart was full to breaking as she came, and came, and came again. Her heart pounded against her chest.

"Remember, Lenore. Bring your offerings by 10:00 tomorrow night."

Lenore's only answer was a cat-like yowl.

"You like?" Jack Scratch asked slyly.

She fought for air like a woman drowning, but finally said, "Just listen to my tell-tale heart."

The next morning, Lenore came to the office directly from Jack Scratch's penthouse. She wore a gown he had given her -- a long, scarlet gown that left very little of her body's sweets or imperfections to the imagination. She felt like Morticia Addams dressed for Christmas.

The office coffee pot sputtered and hissed while Lenore gathered the file material she needed for her case. Estate of Usher would be very much decided today. Her motion for summary judgment would eviscerate the city's defense if it were granted.

Annabel Lee arrived at 7:30 am, dressed conservatively in a white dress. She would stand out, but not for her sensuality, as Lenore had hoped, but because she looked so annoyingly innocent.

"Are you channeling your inner nun, Annabel? Did you not listen to anything I said?"

Annabel did not answer directly, but assisted by putting the papers in order. The case law was indexed and ready to be flourished if need be. "I stand with you, win, lose or draw, but I will not compromise my integrity to influence the judge. My integrity has to last decades longer than my body."

"What a waste!" Lenore finished up, and checked that she still had the phial that Jack Scratch had given her. The potion was a viscous purple. A single drop was all that was needed. Coffee for the judge who couldn't start his day without it, and tea for the first chair city counsel, who treated his body like a temple. Drip, drip. Sip, sip. And you are under my power.

Lenore had enough for a third drop, and remembered that Jack Scratch had wanted her to use it on Annabel. But Lenore had other ideas. She wanted to be rid of that limp dick Tamerlane once and for all. A single drop in his morning scotch, and he would belong to her. She wondered how he would like to be photographed sticking his raspy old tongue deep in her bottom. Her ass tingled in anticipation of that raspy old tongue.

"On to the courthouse," said Lenore. Annabel struggled with the briefs and briefcases behind her.

You may know, Dear Reader, that it is always more congenial in the anterooms of the courthouse than the movies portray. The judges provide time for the attorneys to gather. During that pre-hearing period, a wily judge can suss out who has the weak hand, and who has the strong suit. He can save himself lots of time by getting the parties to acknowledge their weaknesses and strengths, and pushing them to settle. Just by looking at the way Lenore was dressed, it was clear to Judge Prospero that she had the weak hand but the hot bod, and would do whatever she could to distract the city counsel and himself from her tottering, creaking, near-collapsing arguments. It was also clear to the judge that Lenore was a nicely shaped C-cup, if she ever wore a bra, who might rock a string bikini on his private boat.

Her young new assistant, a pretty Asian girl named Lee, could not meet the judge's eyes. Even she knew how weak Lenore's position was. Judge Prospero offered everyone coffee from his government issue, Desert-Storm era coffee brewer. They usually declined, but he needed his first few cups. What surprised him was that Lenore offered to pour his first cup, and to provide the tea for the city counsel. She was being compliant, playing the supplicant. He liked that in a woman, especially one who was usually as bitchy as Lenore. Ms. Lee was surprised, too, and watched her boss perform hostess duties that at best should have been delegated to her.

Judge Prospero's clerk Beatrice had been with him for nearly twenty years. She was a loving grandmother of several children own her irresponsible offspring had abandoned with her. She was widely acknowledged as a saint for her actions at home and at her church. Even gray-haired Beatrice was surprised by Lenore's waitress act.

The City Counsel was accompanied by a thin, handsome woman in a tight pencil skirt. She worn nylons and flats, neither of which made her legs look anything but scrawny. Her pale blouse was tied at the throat with a ribbon, and fell flat in front. She kept her auburn hair tightly bound. Her name was Cecily, and she worked in the City Counsel's re-election campaign when she was not protecting him from irate citizens. Cecily prevented the City Attorney from agreeing to anything that might anger the voting public. She babied him to be sure, but that was her background. She opened and ran a network of day care centers for single working mothers, and had been awarded national recognition for her service.

Cecily looked at Beatrice. Although neither said anything aloud, their eyebrow movements communicated that Lenore was up to something.

When Annabel Lee saw the eyebrow semaphores, she began to pay more attention to Lenore's unusual behavior.

The judge relaxed with both counsel, sipped his coffee, and let them talk about their clients a little. Everyone was letting their hair down. He imagined what Lenore's long dark hair must look like against her alabaster skin. She was very becoming, and he had never felt so close to her. The city counsel, usually taciturn and bristly, seemed calmer too, hanging on her every word. When she crossed her leg, the red dress fell away revealing long calves, a shapely knee, and a bit of thigh. Everyone stopped talking. She swung her leg like a pendulum, and the defense counsel's head bobbed along.

Lenore broached settlement. Cecily crossed her arms and tapped her foot angrily, hoping to catch the city attorney's attention.

Instead, he said, "I can see the value in that offer."

Judge Prospero smiled at both attorneys. "I like that you are moving to a reasonable settlement. Now I just need an order that I can sign."

The Judge looked around for his pen, but Beatrice held it. She sometimes felt she had to save the judge from himself, and this proposed settlement seemed like one of those occasions.

"May I speak privately with you, Judge Prospero?" Beatrice asked.

"Yes," said Cecily. "I would like a moment with my boss, too."

They both dragged their respective bosses to private rooms, where angry words delivered by raised voices could be heard. In response, the men seemed to be giggling at their assistants.

The settlement was everything that Lenore had sued for. Her client would be deeded title to the land, be granted a permanent easement for business use, and have the land zoned Commercial. The cost? Minimal, since everyone could see, this solution was in the very best and highest interest of the City of Chicago.

Annabel couldn't believe that the city attorney agreed to the proposal, and that the judge was eager to sign the final order. Cecily and Beatrice threw up their hands in frustration, and both left to find something to drink. Halloween meant that both the City Attorney's office and the Judge's chambers were lax when it came to starting a party. The two women were more than ready when they saw how their bosses behaved.

Lenore didn't gloat as the documents were drafted for the judge's signature. Judge Prospero liked that. Would he have given her what she wanted if the matter had come on for hearing? Perhaps. She was awfully persuasive in that red gown. He wondered how persuasive she might be out of that red gown, and chuckled to himself.

The city counsel finished his tea, and asked for a second cup, which Lenore provided together with a coffee refill for His Honor. With Cecily gone, there was no one to keep him from ogling Lenore's svelte figure as she glided about the judge's chambers. Cecily would have had conniptions if she saw the defense counsel and Lenore embracing before leaving the judge's chambers. Lenore allowed the judge a little leeway as she cuddled up to him. His hands slid to her tight, rounded ass, and as she kissed his pink cheek, he patted, then pinched, her firm mounds.

"Oh," she whispered, "you have a little spunk in you, you naughty boy."

He flushed crimson with a big yellow-toothed smile between his beard. "I hate to see this case end. We should get together sometime outside the court." He looked like a little boy asking for forbidden sweets.

"I thought the same thing," said Lenore.

The City Counsel's face dropped.

"Oh, you're invited, too," she told the city attorney. "In fact, I want to see you both tonight."

Their faces brightened. "Where?" they both asked, eagerly.

Lenore regarded them carefully. She had used two drops and now needed two innocent souls, or four vile ones. She was not convinced that either Judge Prospero or the City Attorney were anywhere near virtuous, but each had a woman who was perfect. Beatrice was a universal grandma, and Cecily was nurturing caregiver. They would be perfect payment for Jack Scratch.

"Come to the Raven's Grin Inn, tonight, at 10:00," she told them. "I'll be waiting."

Gentle Reader, we now join Lenore in her office with Annabel.

Lenore had one drop left in her phial. She knew exactly the person she would use it on. She was so tired of his wolfish behavior and his saggy penis. It was time he turned the entire firm over to her.

"Can you believe that?" Lenore asked. "I just negotiated the biggest real estate case in Chicago history. Annabel, go pull the client's bill, and then triple the hours. Then add another $15 Million for extraordinary services rendered. Don't worry. They'll pay. They never expected to win this case. Go, go now. I have to make a call to one extremely happy client."

Annabel hesitated before going. "Lenore, that was so unlike you to act like some stewardess for the judge and the city attorney."

"It gave me an opportunity to show them my figure. Distract them from the case, like I tried to teach you."