Arriving at Blackwood

The sleek car pulled up to the entrance of Blackwood Strategic Solutions, a monolithic tower of black glass and steel that stood in stark contrast to the grittier streets below. Its reflective surface shimmered under the morning sun, giving the impression that the structure itself looked down on the city with cold, calculating precision. The logo at the top—a stylized raven wrapped around a key—stood as a symbol of power, secrecy, and dominance.

Before stepping out of the car, you caught your reflection in the tinted window and adjusted the lapel of your tailored suit. The deep charcoal ensemble fit like a second skin, clearly expensive but not flashy—at least, not at first glance. A silk tie, rich violet in hue, hung perfectly centered, held in place by a platinum tie bar shaped like an ornate horned sigil—evidently meant to represent an ancient symbol of your true identity. On your lapel, a matching pin glinted subtly in the morning light—a raven fashioned from onyx, cradling a purple gem in its beak. Your feet were adorned with perfectly-fitting Italian leather shoes.

It wasn’t something you owned. Ronnie had handed it to you earlier in a garment bag.

"From Ms. Blackwood," he had said simply.

Inside the bag had been a note—handwritten on perfumed stationery.

My Beloved Master,
I took the liberty of having this suit prepared for you. I hope it pleases you. I imagined how each stitch would cling to your body, how the fabric would move against your skin. I want the world to see your power—even if they don’t know your name yet.
You’re always in my thoughts.
Always waiting to serve.
—Selena

The suit fit with uncanny perfection, as though she had measured you in your sleep. You weren’t sure if you were more impressed or anxious about the level of detail and expression of desire that came with such a gift. You understood that this was the result of your magic and contract, but there was still a shred of skepticism in the back of your mind when it came to such intense behavior from someone you barely knew. It was still difficult for the human side of you to grasp just how much power you held over those under your **** contracts.

You stepped out of the car, flanked closely by Lexi and Lisbeth. Lexi clung to your arm, her sleek tail brushing flirtatiously along your leg. She wore a gothic-inspired business suit—fitted and sharp, with black lace accents over a deep crimson vest, a short, pleated skirt, and dark stockings with delicate filigree designs. The outfit blended elegance, professionalism, and her trademark dark flair. Lisbeth, meanwhile, was dressed in a beautiful green sundress that emphasized her natural beauty.

Ronnie tipped his hat respectfully as he closed the car door behind you. "I'll be parked just around the corner, Mr. Holt."

You gave him a nod before turning toward the entrance, noticing that he had effortlessly switched to using your human name and title in the public space. As you approached the glass doors, a tall, broad-shouldered female security guard stepped forward, her arms crossing in front of you. She wasn’t the size of your beloved minotaur companion, but for a human woman she was quite fit. Her brow furrowed as she took in the sight of Lexi and Lisbeth’s monstrous features.

“You can’t bring mons…otherworlders into the building,” she said, trying to sound authoritative but already faltering at Lexi’s amused smirk. “Do you have an appointment?”

The remark about your wives made your blood boil for a moment. The portal had been open for over thirty years, and yet, it seemed like there were still people in the world who had irrational animosity towards monster girls. Before you could say anything, Lexi took over.

She leaned in slightly, her tone playful but laced with a threat. “Oh, honey. Are you sure that’s the route you want to take? It might not end well for you.”

The guard reached for her earpiece, clearly preparing to escalate the situation.

"James Holt," you said calmly, showing her the digital appointment confirmation on your phone. "I'm here to meet with Selena Blackwood."

The guard blinked, confused. “That’s… impossible. Ms. Blackwood doesn’t meet clients directly. You’re not even—”

"Angela," came a cold, cutting voice from across the lobby.

Selena was approaching like a **** of nature, her stilettos clicking like a metronome of impending doom. Staff members cleared the way as she approached, their heads bowing in quiet reverence and even a bit of fear. Dressed in a crimson business suit that hugged her frame like armor, her eyes were locked on the security guard with the intensity of a predator.

Angela straightened. "Ms. Blackwood, I—"

"You what? Blocked one of my most important clients? Delayed my day over your inability to recognize a VIP confirmation? This is an important place of business, not a mall kiosk."

Angela flushed with embarrassment. "I didn't know—"

"You're not paid to know. You're paid to obey," Selena snapped. "Consider yourself on probation. Another misstep like this, and you'll be learning to say 'do you want fries with that?'"

Before she could continue her tirade, you raised a hand.

"Selena," you said, your tone calm but firm, "No need to go so far. You can let her off this time for me, can't you? She was just doing her job trying to keep your beloved company safe."

Your decision to command the owner of the company brought utter silence to the busy lobby. Employees seemed to hold their breath–no one talked to Ms. Blackwood that way.

Selena herself froze. Her entire demeanor shifted—her breath caught, her lips parted slightly, and her eyes lowered in a subtle but unmistakable display of submission. Her thighs pressed together ever so slightly, and a flush crept into her cheeks.

"Of course, Mr. Holt," she said, voice lowered and reverent. "My apologies."

Onlookers continued to gawk at the impossible scene–their faces easy to read. Ms. Blackwood apologized to someone? That was impossible.

You allowed a bit of your power to flow towards the shocked guard, laying on your charm like a thick enveloping fog. Angela flushed despite her fear of her boss, her eyes growing hazy with desire.

"No harm done, right Ms. Angela?" You cooed, every word dripping with a devil’s temptations.

She nodded in bewilderment. You moved closer, whispering into her ear for only her to hear. “I’d ask you to reconsider your stance on monsters, Miss. Not all of us are so terrible, don’t you think?” You let your long, almost serpentine tongue subtly graze her neck, forcing more lust into her body through your touch. You laughed internally as the goose bumps rose immediately over her skin.

Angela’s breathing picked up, her face turning scarlett. “Y-yes, M-Mr. H-Holt. P-please fuc–forgive me.”

"Of course.” You said, pulling back once more and turning towards Selena. “Should we head up for our discussion, Ms. Blackwood?"

Selena, also enraptured by the mere fraction of your ability, shakily answered yes through rough breathing.

Lexi smirked as you walked past the stunned security guard. “Selena practically melted. You should see the look on her face every time you speak.”

You gave her a smirk, and Lexi giggled and leaned closer, her grip on your arm tightening like a loving chain.

Lisbeth, quiet at your side, took your other hand in hers. She laced her fingers in yours intimately. Her grip was warm and steady, but her expression shifted with each glance Selena threw your way. Jealousy flickered behind her calm exterior, and she pulled herself closer to you, her shoulder pressing against yours.

It was an interesting reaction. She didn’t flinch when you licked and seduced the guard, but she was staring daggers at Selena.

When you reached the top floor, the doors opened to a pristine executive office suite. Floor-to-ceiling windows gave a panoramic view of the city below. Monitors displaying streams of financial data and encrypted security feeds adorned the walls.

Selena’s assistant offered a respectful nod and vanished behind another door.

As soon as the doors to her office shut behind you, her posture broke. With trembling hands, she unbuttoned her blazer and dropped to her knees, then bowed low until her forehead touched the floor.

“Master,” she whispered. “Thank you for gracing my office.”

Lexi clapped her hands, clearly entertained. “She really doesn’t hold back. Is it weird I’m kinda proud?” Then she stepped forward and smirked down at Selena. “Go on. Bring him a chair worthy of his presence.”

Selena immediately rose and hurried to retrieve the most luxurious chair in the room—a black leather throne-like seat with polished steel armrests. She rolled it over in front of the massive glass desk, then bowed again—this time kneeling on the floor at your feet, her head lowered in worship.

Lexi leaned into your side again, practically purring. “Now that’s more like it, though I would hope you’d have a proper throne prepared in the future.”

“Of course. Forgive me. It was short notice since the ritual last night, and I already had so much to prepare.” Selena kissed the tip of your shoe, her lips trembling slightly, eyes closed as though savoring the taste of your dominance.

“Rise,” you commanded.

She shuddered with arousal at the single word. Her breath hitched, and she obeyed, moving with reverent care as she stood. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes shining with both lust and admiration. She smoothed her blazer and tried to adopt a professional air, though the aftershocks of your command lingered in every motion.

“I’ve prepared a draft,” she said, voice husky but controlled. “Not projections—an outline for your starting portfolio. We'll begin with three primary shell companies: one for financial management, one for private security, and one for discreet acquisitions. Once stabilized, we’ll use them to build broader influence across sectors without raising flags.”

Lexi rested her chin on your shoulder and sighed, her arms still clinging to you. “Mmm, I love watching them squirm for you. It’s like poetry in motion.” She glanced at Selena with mischief dancing in her eyes. “Careful, Ms. Blackwood. At this rate, you’ll mess up the carpet.”

Selena didn’t reply. She only glanced at you again with naked adoration.

Lisbeth, silent until now, moved behind you and wrapped her arms around your chest from behind. Her cheek rested against the back of your neck. The embrace was strong, steady—but as Selena straightened herself before you, Lisbeth’s arms tightened ever so slightly.

She leaned down, and without a word, pressed her lips to yours in a deep, possessive kiss. Her fingers curled gently against your chest, and her warmth surrounded you completely. There was nothing seductive in her kiss—it was protective, claiming. She didn’t need to say anything.

When she pulled away, you looked at her—surprised by the intensity, but stirred by it all the same. Her eyes flicked briefly to Selena, as if daring her to challenge the bond you shared.

You smiled at the action, and walked over to the opulent chair to have a seat. As you sat, you undid the top buttons of your suit jacket. Crossing your legs as you normally would have, you had no idea the effect just that silent graceful movement had on the women in the room.

“Let’s talk.”