All the usual disclaimer's apply: don't read this if it is illegal for you to do so, don't steal or copy anything here without my permission. This story is inspired by the brilliant series American Horror Story: Coven. If you enjoy it or wish to read more, send me an email at nbradFshaw@yahoo.com. Please consider a donation to Nifty, we all love it! Enjoy!
- That's the number on my driver's license, my real license sprawled out on the large dresser beside me. I smiled. 23. That's the number that my reflection showed in the three side by side ceiling to floor mirrors.
"The beauty of being a Supreme," I could hear my own voice, quiet but strong as I admired the body I worked hard to maintain. I was 6'2 and sexy as hell- skin the color of honey, a pair of steely, frosted blue eyes and dark, almost black hair falling around my face. It was messy- sex does that to a guy- but straight and thin, reaching the bottom of my angular chin.
To be 61 and look 23, with broad, strong shoulders and thick pecks. A slim waist and washboard abs- but my favorite part of my body, of any mans body is my deep v cut. Shit is lethal, I tell ya. Damn, just thinking about it is waking up my dick. Thick and veiny, about 7 1/2 inches, and I'd be damned if he didn't take that kid passed out on my bed, snoring like the dead to the stars and back.
I looked back at him in the mirror. My bed was big enough for four, but he managed to, since I had gotten up an hour ago, take it over. I could see that beautiful, delicious hump of his tanned ass with that light dusting of blonde fur. He was hot, 22, actually 22. A senior in college, I think U.S.C. and a sweet kid, a tennis player. That was all he told me about himself before I dragged him into the bathroom of that 7 Eleven and sucked his dick. I met him behind the register. He was about two inches shorter than me, and had a killer boy next door smile with these innocent, sort of needy hazel eyes. He had a great, smooth body, the kind you see on guys who work out everyday. Not unlike mine, but I don't have to work out to get it. He had these big, dark brown nipples that I loved and drove him crazy when I sucked on them, and a real sexy pair of feet. Size twelve, and thank God for the vanity of today's youth cause his feet were perfect. No calluses,
smooth and clean. He was plenty hot, even had a small dimple on his left cheek that showed up when he was embarrassed, but that wasn't why I sought him out.
His name is Noland Pryce. He's a nobody; comes from an average home with average parents, works an average job at a shit hole of a store, nowhere near the beaches of California. Well, his dick is anything but average. It's a work of art; an 8 inch pillar of veins and precum with a flaring purple mushroom head. He has no brothers or sisters, and no one in his family knows he's gay. He's an accounting major, a minor in writing. It's a weird combination, but he likes to write and his father, the open minded guy he is, didn't think writing was a viable career path. Noland was always a quiet kid- stayed out of trouble for all of his life, went to church, sang in the choir, did his homework- made decent grades, liked playing tennis but wasn't good enough to win any trophies. He was, until last night, a gold star virgin. He dated, but never crossed the line and took any relationship- including the one he held with his freshman roommate- to a sexual level.
That is until he met me.
The sun had risen, but the curtains were blocking the windows opposite the bed. With a thought they shot open, and sunlight came pouring in and surrounding my hot little Noland. I heard him groan, a deep, pained sound of someone being woken up abruptly. I watched him roll over and blindly grab for a pillow to cover his face with, but it was time for him to wake up.
All those windows, ceiling to floor meant i could see all the beautiful ocean had to offer from my condo. A room with a view, because it paid to have unlimited resources.
I guess I should explain some, before I go any deeper. You see, I'm a Supreme, a witch. A Supreme is the most powerful witch in a Coven, and over the years my Coven has grown to include over 200 witches. Supremes are born, not made- and I was born for power. Only another Supreme can even consider challenging my power, and there are about 30 of them in this country. There used to be more, but they learned that crossing me is never a good idea. Julian Fox, Supreme.
Noland is a witch too- he just doesn't know it yet. A waste of potential, but that's why I chose him. If he is who I think he is, I'm going to kill him.
Which would be a waste of such charming good looks and an ass I could eat for days, but he wouldn't be the first. He would actually be the fourth would-be Supreme I've killed in my reign, fifth if you count the previous Supreme who I killed so I could take my throne. Death is my art, my staple. They say that witches were descendants of angels, given great power to better the world. But as it often happens, power can lead one to do all sorts of things if you keep an open mind.
"Morning," a sleepy Noland grumbled, stretching. He flexed and curled his toes when he stretched, which made my dick pulse. I smiled and walked over to the bed. I grabbed his left foot and kissed his sole.
"Morning, sexy," I said. I licked the length of his foot, and he let out a giggle-moan, something I'd only ever heard from him in my long sexual history. I fucking loved the way he tasted; salty and masculine, but still sweet, like he was still a child. And he was, compared to me. The hallmark of a Supreme is glowing, radiant health. That is, of course, until the next Supreme should come along to replace you. Then your health, your body, good looks- it all gets dragged from you and poured into this younger, perfect version of you. It was a nasty process, painful on the body and soul, and the only way to avoid it was to kill the little demon who was stealing your life. So if I'm right, and Noland is to be the next Supreme, he'll have to die.
"Hey, what time- ugghh," Noland stopped talking and groaned; the beauty of a virgin was their complete lack of experience. Every move was like the perfect orgasm. I had licked my way up his legs and was now munching on his puffy, well fucked little hole. It was pink and sweet, nestled between that great ass of his. I was hungry for it, so I dove in- shoved my tongue in there, loving the taste of his leftover sweat and my cum deep in his ass. He clenched his ass cheeks while I worked his hot hole with my tongue and was moaning like crazy- begging me to stop and to go deeper. He was still so tight, even after I'd fucked him three times. God this was prime ass, and the way he was squirming under my tongue, he'd probably let me fuck him again. But I had work to do.
"You can shower if you want before you go," I told him, pulling back from his ass. I sat on the edge of my bed and stared down at his ass. Damn, this kid was too good to be true! He rolled over, and the look in his hazel eyes almost broke my heart. He looked like I'd just shot his puppy. But then he sat up, kind of pulled away from me and tried to smile.
"Umm, yeah- I mean I'll- I wanted-" He was nervous and flustered and scared and his body wasn't a virgin but his mind sure as hell was. If I hadn't read his mind, this would've been all the proof I needed of his status. I leaned in and cupped his chin, smiled, then pulled his mouth against mine. He resisted my kiss at first, probably out of shock, but then I felt his body relax as he gave in. He opened his mouth, and let my tongue in. I could tell he wanted more, but I ended it. No need to go waking that monster between his legs, even though I'd like to take another ride on it. He looked at me again, as I pulled away from him. His eyes were focused on mine, begging me to never let him go.
"You babble when you get nervous. It's cute," I told him, leaning in and kissing his cheek. I could feel the scratch of his stubble, a day's worth. "Your eyes also betray you. I know you want to stay, but it's Tuesday. You have class, and I have to work." I ran one hand down his arm and let it rest on his hand. He looked down, then up at me again. I kissed him again, quick, on his soft plump lips. "So you can shower first, so you won't be late. And maybe I'll join you." I reached with my other hand and grabbed his soft, now rapidly hardening dick and gave it a few quick pumps. He gasped, and i bent down between us and licked the head of his dick. It tasted like dried up cum and sweat and beautiful man sex. He dribbled a little pre cum, and I couldn't help it- I swallowed the whole thing. My nose was now in his thick bush, my chin resting on his low hanging balls. He moaned, loudly, and his dick jumped as it quickly swelled and grew to its full
magnificent 8 inches. I loved feeling a hot dick in my throat, but I had to let him go, so I pulled off. A trail of spittle and pre cum connected my tongue to his dick, which he reached down and wiped up with his finger. He stuck it in his mouth and closed his eyes. Fuck he was sexy, so damn irresistible. I bent down and swallowed his dick back into my throat, flexing and contracting my throat as I bobbed up and down. I was hot for him now, had to have his nut in my throat. He was moaning like crazy and grabbing at my shoudlers- he actuallydug his nails into my shouder's- so I grabbed his hand and wrapped it around my dick. He began fisting me immediately, fast and wild, his grip like a vice, the way I liked it. Sure, I'd had a hold on his mind when I got him to come home with me, but that's as far as it went. This was all him.
You want to know a secret? Being a witch makes your cum taste better. Literally. Witch cum is almost irresistible. He was close, I could tell by the ragged breathing and incoherent moans, and the way he now sporadically fisted me. I picked up the pace- I was close, and I had to shoot with him.
"Fucking Julian!" He screamed, loud enough for anyone outside of the condo to hear as he bucked his hips and jammed his dick in my throat. The kid had a potty mouth; everytime he came, that's what he said. Then I felt it; his first shot hit the back of my throat, and even without a gag reflex I pulled back so that his dick was resting on my tongue as it shot load after magical load of cum down my throat. It was thick and strong, and I swallowed because I would have drowned if I didn't. And witches can't be brought back if they've drowned. Then I was firing off in his hand, just as he finished in my mouth- five shots, coating my chest and his hand. My cum was hot and hit hard- it scared most the first time- and I was panting around his beautiful dick. I let him fall out of my mouth and I fell back onto my ass, spent. He was staring at me, glistening with sweat, and even as his dick shrunk cum still dribble out. I was about to go for it, but he beat me to
it- reached his hand, covered in my cum, and scooped his own up. He then started sucking on his fingers, his hips slowly rising off the bed. Yeah, like I said, the stuff was grade A. He sucked on his fingers greedily, licked his hand back and front over and over. I guess he realized he'd gotten it all, cause he opened his eyes and looked at me.
The look in his eyes made me laugh; it was like a kid who'd been eating ice cream, then had it snatched right out of their hands, spoon and all. "You'll get used to that, slut." He was hurt by what I'd said, as if I hit him. "I'm just playing, Noland. You're not a slut because you like cum. If anybody's a slut here, its me. I sucked your dick in a bathroom, and all I knew was your name." But the damage was already done, and he hadn't heard anything I'd said.
"I am a slut," he said to himself rather than me. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes; this was all knew to him. I could just reach inside his head, but I don't like to mix sex with magic. At least not all at once.
"No you're not," I told him, gentle. He was something to be handled gently. "Enjoying sex- liking cum, it doesn't make you a slut. Having sex in port-a-potty's makes you a slut." He laughed at that, and I saw that dimple of his, which made me smile. "Now go take a shower." He got up then, but stopped. He moved back over to me and kissed me, the first move he'd made since I met him. I let him take control, because it was important that he did. He wouldn't be back if he didn't feel safe. It was a sweet, tender kiss, just like him. When he pulled away, he smiled.
"Will- will I see you again?" it was amazing how innocent and naive the guy could be. I smiled at him and gave him a thumbs up.
"I'd kill to get you back in my bed," I told him, slapping his ass. He smirked, nervous. I reached over to the nightstand and pulled open the top drawer. It was otherwise empty except for a necklace I kept in there. It was a simple necklace; a thin gold chain with a small rusted bronze anchor framed by two angel wings. I stood up and closed the distance between us.
"What's that?" he asked quietly, looking down.
"Its mine. I got it when I was a kid," I told him as I unhooked the latch. I reached around his neck and clasped it again, watched as it rested against his skin. It wouldn't settle; not on him, not while I was alive. "You wanted to know if you would see me again. Now, there's no way you won't." he smiled, really smiled, and blushed several shades of crimson.
"T-thank you," he stuttered, looking down at the necklace.
"Now go take a shower. You kind of stink." I smirked at him as he walked away, and let out a sigh when the bathroom door closed. "It's hard to believe that kid is a witch. Let alone the witch to replace me."
"Why? We witches are descendants of angels," I knew the voice, should have expected her to show up, but I still jumped when she spoke.
"Rockelle," I said, rolling my eyes. The girl had a knack for being incredibly annoying, in a way that only belonged to her. She always spoke in this careful, controlled way, like she was smarter than everyone else in the room. "I know you have the power of teleportation, but for the hundredth time, don't just show up in my bedroom. I am your Supreme." She giggled.
"I know. Why else would I spend so much time helping you hunt other witches?" she asked. Rockelle was pretty, more or less beautiful in the artificial way that diamonds are beautiful. She was a bitch, but loyal as ever, and a talented witch in her own right. My right hand. I heard the click of her heels against the deep oak wood floor as she approached me. I turned to face her. She was wearing a tight, short black dress and red bottom heels- the ones I'd brought her a few years ago, when we'd dated. Those perfect blue eyes of hers shone like they only did when she'd accomplished something big. "I would sit, but I didn't watch you two bang each other's brains out. So I don't know which part of your bed isn't covered in semen."
"What do you want, Rockelle?" I asked, exasperated. "He won't shower for much longer." She gave me one of her looks.
"Right, because you couldn't make him shower for the rest of his life," she said, her lips pursed. I fixed her with a stare, then she was walking over to me. Controlling her mind was always a power struggle- Rockelle was a fighter, and I'll be damned if she wasn't meant to be a boxer. Even as she walked stiff legged over to me, her eyes were filled with rage. But she couldn't resist, and was eventually sitting on my lap, my cum slicked dick pressed against her soft bare thigh. She smelled like honey, my second favorite smell.
"Let me go, Julian!" she barked at me in her head, because I controlled her mouth, so she couldn't speak.
"You know, this dick is covered in cum. And his ass. God he has a sweet ass, kind of like you. Except he was a virgin when I fucked him. You- well we both know how many times you've been around the block- not that I didn't appreciate your skill." I let her mind go then, and she broke free. She got to her feet and slapped me, hard and fast. Her ring scratched me, but the mark and the scar was gone almost as soon as it appeared.
"A fighter like always, Rockelle. Though you didn't always fight. But this dick- it belongs to him for now. So what do you want?" But she had that Rockelle-has-won look in her eyes again.
"I was right. He is the next Supreme," Rockelle told me, quickly regaining her stature. "There was a time when you didn't scar at all. He's going to be strong though. Tough to kill, and as always, we have to bring out his powers first. I think we should kill his mother. Intense pain usually does the trick." I couldn't help but laugh.
"Are you sure we're descendants of angels?" I asked, half joking. "But that'll work. I'll make sure he's ready, when the time comes."
"We're getting good at this dance, Julian," Rockelle observed. "Well, I've always been good. You're getting good."
"Thank you, Rockelle. It's been a pleasure," I said dryly, dismissing her. She walked over to the window and gazed out of it, her eyes bluer than the ocean. She lifted her hand up, and waved her finger swiftly. I screamed and my hands flew for my dick; the bitch set it on fire! The pain was gone and the fire out in an instant, but now I was seething with rage and itching for revenge.
"Angels." she snorted. "You and I, we're monsters." She was gone as the bathroom door shot open.
Feedback! Did you like it? Hate it? This is my first submission here, but I've been writing all my life. Stay tuned for part two!!