Feature Writer: Your Teddy Bear ([email protected])
Feature Title: A Dark and Strange Visitation
Published: This work is copyrighted to the author 2008. All rights reserved.
Story Codes: Erotic Horror, MC, Voodoo, Interracial
Synopsis: Wife is subjected to voodoo spells and has an illicit affair with a young black teen and consequences ensue.
A Dark and Strange Visitation
Jack Duncan is a free-lance professional photographer specializing in unusual natural science work and is on assignment to develop a photo essay on Haiti. His wife Debbie is researching and writing a paper on Voodoo. They have been married for ten years forming a distinctive team that combined her research and journalistic skills with his award winning photography. As a result they traveled widely on numerous coveted projects from acclaimed international organizations.
The past two years had been rough on their marriage. Jack, at 56 stood about 5’10” and weighed nearly two hundred and seventy-five pounds. His weight and smoking had led to erectile dysfunction and an inability to perform sexually. Side-effects of the popular drug therapies posed grave consequences to him which in effect eliminated medication as an option. The humiliation led to a low self-esteem and eventually he withdrew from any kind of physical relationship with Debbie.
On the other hand Debbie is only thirty-two having met Jack while a student at the university while he was teaching a class in ancient cultures. She has a PhD in Anthropology but looks more like a model. She has wavy, natural blonde hair atop a 5’6″ body weighing one hundred and twenty-three pounds. Blessed with a stunningly beautiful face and stark green eyes, Debbie has shapely hips carried on long, lovely legs. With supple breasts filling a B-cup, she is a striking woman.
Although impotent, Jack’s appetite for eroticism had not vanished. Having a pretty wife he discovered a new arousal through visual stimulation. Although he never spoke to her about his feelings, he secretly harbored a desire for public exhibitionism by Debbie and encouraged a selection of fashions to provoke that behavior.
As part of their assignment Debbie was researching the Voodoo-si, women who serve the Mawu, the supreme Voodoo being. Everyday she went searching the main streets and back alleys she could find to develop her understanding of the subject matter.
One day exploring an alley she abruptly ran into a strange boy. She was struck by his piercing clear blue eyes. He was barefoot, dressed only in a dirty pair of jockey shorts and was small in stature and slightly built. With his hair in dread-locks, his facial features and stark black complexion pointed to an aboriginal heritage. With a surprising authority he took Debbie by the hand and pulled, leading her away. She felt unable to resist. He led her into a narrow, dim alley between broken down shacks.
Debbie asked, “Where are you taking me?”
The boy just mumbled, “Hattie will see you.”
“Who is Hattie?” she asked.
“Who you are seeking,” was his answer.
On unsteady legs she followed passively. The boy took Debbie to a little beach side shop. When they entered she saw this was the place of Madam Hattie, a local fortune teller. The boy led Debbie to a small room with one lit candle in the middle of a tiny round table and then simply disappeared.
Regaining her composure, Debbie was greeted by a short, round black lady dressed in flowing purple robes entering the room through a draped doorway.
“You may call me Hattie,” she began.
Hattie dominated the conversation.
Soon she said, “I will tell your future,” and proceeded to take Debbie’s hands in hers and turn them palms up studying intently.
Debbie stared into her eyes and felt as if this woman was looking into her mind.
Quickly she let go of her hands and took out a deck of Tarot cards and counted out ten and turned them face up on the table in front of Debbie. She selected five and pushed them toward her.
She said, “These are the most important at this time for you to learn what your future holds.”
She described each of the five cards, The Fool, The Devil, The Hanged Man, Death, and The Empress.
Then Hattie explained, “You will soon become aware of your own needs, and the desire will be very unsettling to you. Your mind is imaginative and once opened to concealed truth it will unleash a seductive thirst. You will reach the end of a phase in life which has served its purpose and will yield to another through unexpected events.”
“That is very interesting Hattie, but I don’t really believe in the Tarot,” Debbie said trying to be cheerful but stating her convictions all the same.
Ignoring her comment and pointing to her wedding ring Hattie asked, “What is the condition of your relationship?”
Alarmed by her boldness, Debbie paused and considered what to say.
Finally she answered truthfully, “He is much older than me and,” hesitating, “And our relationship is, let’s just say platonic.”
“Yes,” Hattie affirmed confidently, “And that is a lifeless ache for one with such youth and beauty. The ache must be appeased to return pleasure to your life. You don’t have to believe. The Tarot show only what is and not what might be if you believe,” and then, looking into Debbie’s eyes, Hattie told her, “This old woman will help you. Quand je vous appelle, vous devez venir chez moi.”
Debbie wrinkled her face not understanding.
“What did you say? I don’t speak French,” she said.
“When the time comes you will understand,” she answered.
Amused she thought, “My sex life sucks! How is she going to help me with that?”
That evening Jack and Debbie went out for dinner to a beach bar near where she had met Hattie. The crowd was a mixture of tourists and locals. There was a band playing and about half the crowd was drinking and dancing and the other half eating, listening to the music and people watching.
Debbie wore an ankle length, asymmetrical hem pale green skirt with a deep side slit that barely hid a g- string panty. She had chosen a sheer net emerald green blouse that plunged to a tie just below the breast line worn over a mid-drift length see-through gauzy chemise top. At Jack’s urging she wore no bra. Although the chemise and blouse were both transparent, the layering of the two teased the imagination yet offered an air of modesty. To complete her ensemble she wore a pair of plain white heels.
After eating Jack ordered a couple of cocktails for them, and they both turned their attention on the crowded dance floor. Debbie twisted in her chair to gain a better view. It was then she noticed the strange boy from that morning.
Leaning over to Jack in a low voice she said, “Casually glance over at the bar. See that black boy? He is staring at me.”
As Jack looked he found the boy just as Debbie had said, staring in her direction.
“Yup, he is hoping to see your breasts,” he said trying to goad her.
Debbie answered coolly, “Maybe I should let him.” Jack just smiled his approval.
With her judgment clouded by neglect, Debbie looked back at the boy and demurely crossed her legs allowing the deep slit to expose her leg from the hip. Playfully she pulled on the string of her blouse letting it reveal the chemise. Without the blouse as cover, she knew her full breasts, the pink of her areola and darker nipples were daringly visible. Watching her, Jack’s arousal left a distinct damp patch of secretion in his lap.
After several minutes of this tease Debbie realized her impulsive misbehavior, and she re-tied her blouse and covered her legs. Watching as the boy continued to stare she chastised herself for acting so shameless.
That night Debbie got ready for bed wearing a plain white cotton slip for a nightgown. Jack, embarrassed by having ejaculated at the bar, drank too much and had already fallen asleep. Debbie closed her eyes and dreamed of lust and sexual obsession. She felt lips upon hers and drew a face to her breast so it would suckle upon her. She felt a naked body against her naked body, and felt the unmistakable swelling of manhood against her sex and she bucked her hips to meet it.
She awoke from her dream with a jerk as she thought she heard the beat of bare feet running through the bungalow. She was lying on her back, covers thrown to the side, her gown pulled down exposing her breasts. She was drenched in sweat with her legs splayed apart in sexual submission. Her nipples were hard and sensitive as if they had been pinched or bitten.
As she felt her heart beat gradually slow and her tense muscles relax she supposed her conduct that night was the source of her wet dream.
The next few nights Debbie had that same recurring dream. Each morning she could recall the feeling of naked flesh against her, the lips upon her breast, and the animalistic orgasm, but she could never catch the face of her unknown lover. She found she looked forward to the nights and the reverie. It filled her with enormous desire and longing and afterward left her physically spent and sated. If only Jack could gratify her this way.
One evening she was getting ready for bed wearing a sleeveless red silk nightgown. While brushing her hair she noticed that Jack was standing on the deck looking at something. Curious, she walked out to join him. Standing at the rail, she could see a bon fire down the beach and hear voices.
She asked, “What do you think is going on?”
“It doesn’t sound like it’s a party,” Jack answered.
Startling both Jack and Debbie, out of the shadows stepped the black boy. Climbing the steps to the deck he took Debbie by the hand. Immediately she felt her will melt away as she allowed the boy to lead her down the beach.
“Where are you taking me?” she heard herself ask.
“Hattie calls to you,” he answered leading her on.
They quietly walked the beach toward the fire, the boy gripping Debbie’s hand and Jack following a few steps behind. Each stride brought them closer and the words became clearer to Debbie.
“Quand je vous appelle, vous devez venir chez moi.”
They were calling to her. As she approached the fire they stopped. She could see a group of people dressed in brightly colored hooded robes. They were dancing around a ring of fire. Standing in the middle of the ring was Hattie. Something had been scratched in the sand. As Debbie studied it she recognized an inverted pentagram, the sign of the Devil on the Tarot from which Hattie had read her future.
She felt oddly drawn to the fire. The boy let go of her hand and as if in a trance she walked slowly forward. Jack stood mesmerized. The hooded group around parted to let her through. She walked to Hattie and then stood before her with her hands at her sides.
“Enlevez vos vętements ainsi nous pouvons voir votre corps nu,” ordered Hattie.
Although she could not understand the words, she seemed to know what was expected.
Without questioning she crossed her arms in front of her and slid her fingers beneath the straps of her gown sliding them off her shoulders. The gown drifted to the ground at her feet. She stood naked within the ring.
Jack wondered in amazement at the beauty of her body. The dancing reflection of the fires on her skin as she turned slowly so all those circling the fire could see her. His eyes were drawn to her breasts standing proud and supple on her chest with areolas the size of silver dollars and soft pert nipples. A trim waist flared to shapely, sensuous hips. A light golden fleece veiled her vulva.
Her nipples, only slightly protruding, revealed she was at ease with her nudity. His eyes traced her silhouette, caressing the gentle swell of her rounded bottom. Her body lightly tanned swayed beneath the glare of the fire light tempting his eyes. He felt his heart beating in his chest as if trying to free itself of confinement.
Hattie then spoke to the gathered group. “I call upon Dionysius, the spirit of pleasure and unbridled desire. I ask that he expose to you what is already within you. Such is nothing to fear, nothing to shame, or nothing to avoid,” she spoke.
With that she placed one hand on Debbie’s shoulder and with a light pressure caused her to kneel in the sand.
At first Debbie’s mind was racing, trying to follow and comprehend what was being said. But there was peace and tranquility in letting her thoughts go and simply accept being led.
Hattie placed her hand on Debbie’s head and chanted, “Produisez son lait pour nourrir la bęte de Dionysius.”
Suddenly Debbie felt a strange pressure in her breasts as if they were swelling. She felt weak and lay on her back upon the sand. She looked up at the stars in the pitch black sky and felt the hands of the acolytes arrange her head, arms and legs to align with the points of the pentagram.
Hattie standing with her arms askew and looking to the stars said, “Laissez cette bęte boire du lait de votre sein pour enchanter Dionysius.”
She felt a rising urge deep within her womb. It seemed to flow from her breasts. She found herself slowly rocking her hips back and forth in a languid motion, building a craving within her she knew long ago. She felt the heat of fire on her skin, and could see the flames licking at the sky, and in the shadows, the acolytes as they knelt in the sand.
She knew that Jack was watching her. She was on display performing a wanton act in front of these strange people. He could stop this if he wanted, but she could see only hunger on his face.
Jack gazed, captivated by Debbie’s exhibitionism. He sensed a torrential wave of sexual arousal wash over him as he looked at the boy standing next him. Knowing that a boy was watching the naked body of his wife writhing on the sand fed his voyeurism. Suddenly Hattie jerked her arms to the sky as if lifting a weight.
He saw Debbie dig her heels into the sand as she bucked her hips upward as if meeting the thrusts of an invisible lover. With her face contorted and whipping her head back and forth she continued the rhythmic pumping of her hips into the air, up and down until her muscles tensed and she shuddered for several moments. Finally her body slumped back to the sand having reached her sexual release.
The ceremony was over. The acolytes, Hattie and the boy disappeared into the blackness of the night, leaving only the two of them in the flickering light of the fires. Jack helped Debbie to her feet and into her nightgown and walked slowly back to the bungalow. Not a word was spoken.
Debbie was the first to wake in the morning after a lifeless sleep. She looked over at Jack still snoring away. She thought back to last night. She remembered everything but more like an illusion than reality. Getting out of bed she found sand in the sheets.
“It really happened,” she thought to herself.
After Jack woke and showered they sat quietly on the deck over coffee.
“What was that all about?” Jack asked.
“A Voodoo ritual,” she said softly, “And I just let it all happen,” explaining her misgivings.
From that day on, Debbie gradually noticed her sexuality creeping uncontrollably to the surface. She found herself dreaming about sex even in the day time. Lustful thoughts constantly swirled within her mind. Deviant visions seemed to be weaving their way into her every sleeping and waking thought. Why? What created these strange and perverted desires in her?
She thought about Hattie and the Tarot. She decided she would see her and discuss the night on the beach.
“Please explain what happened on the beach the other night. That was a Voodoo ceremony,” she said.
“Yes, I am Voodoo-si,” she said proudly.,”You came to me so your hidden desires could be freed. You are ready to begin your new journey,” she explained.
Hattie then proceeded to lay out ten cards. Debbie felt a cold shiver run up her spine. They were the exact same ten cards as had laid in front of her before. This time however, Hattie pushed the other five cards she did not describe earlier toward Debbie and began to describe them, The Page of Wands, The Queen of the Thrones of Flame, The Three of Cups, The Four of Cups, and The Eight of Cups.
She then offered Debbie this explanation.
“Love has turned to familiarity and physical pleasure has passed, correct?” she asked. Pausing to see Debbie nod she continued, “You are young and still fruitful in mind and body. You long for excitement and gratification?” she asked.
Again there was only a slight nod from Debbie.
“I have become so obsessed with sex,” Debbie began.
Hattie reached out and touched her cheek lightly and said, “Dionysius has exposed your inhibitions. The desires are natural within you,” she said as she took Debbie by the hand,”The lust in your mind is potent. It is temptation that provokes your hunger.”
Debbie was still confused, “What temptation?”
“The lure of the forbidden seduces you. It is your temptation. That is what troubles you,” Hattie answered.
Debbie looked down in her lap shaking her head.
“My desires are so decadent.”
Debbie choked blinking through tears welling up in her eyes.
“Restrained desire has been freed. You must surrender to it. There is nothing to fear, or shame,” Hattie argued.
Debbie went home unnerved by what Hattie spoke. That night Debbie found her dream more vivid than ever. Unable to sleep tormented by the conflict between her moral compass and merciless taunting of her striking dream, Debbie quietly arose removing her nightgown and slipped into the shower.
Afterward, she peeked at Jack sound asleep and pulled an oversized blanket from the linen closet. Silently stepping outside she was greeted by the fresh ocean air and a barely visible slice of orange on the horizon. Walking down to the beach covered only by the blanket she wanted the struggle to cease.
Watching the sun rise she listened to the waves lapping at the beach and the predawn chirping of birds still in their nightly roost. A light breeze carried the salty moisture of ocean spray and a damp chill. Unexpectedly Debbie saw the strange black boy emerge from behind her. He was dressed only in his dingy jockey shorts as he sat in the sand next to her. Apprehensively she looked into his eyes. She saw daring that delighted her, mischief that motivated her and temptation that caused her to tremble. She saw in his eyes a reflection of her lust.
Irrationally extending a blanket clad arm, she offered him the warmth of her naked body against the morning chill. Burying his face against her soft breast his lips drew on a nipple. She could feel his tongue taunting her causing a quiver deep inside. A hand cupped her other breast, teasing the soft skin around her nipple with a delicate touch. She gently caressed his face feeling the smooth texture of his dark skin. With her fingers she lightly traced along his young lips nursing from her breast.
She could feel the wetness of her sexual arousal. Would she dare have sex with this boy? It was immoral, but she had an undeniable thirst for this taboo temptation. He lifted his face from her breast as his lips reluctantly let her nipple slip from between them. Looking into his eyes she knew she would. Her soft lips parted as she felt the electric thrill of his tongue touching hers for the first time. The kiss was tender at first, then demanding as he pressed his lips hungrily into her.
Debbie could feel the unmistakable warmth of the boy’s penis against her belly. Reaching down she touched him then held him unable to close her fingers around his thickness.
As she lightly brushed her lips over his he murmured, “Give me your body and I will give you ecstasy.”
Laying back on the sandy beach Debbie spread her legs in submission to the boy. He drew her nipple into his mouth as she cradled his head to her. His tongue pressed her nipple as he sucked. She could feel the sensation deep within her womb as her clitoris hardened and she felt an orgasm course through her body. Holding his rigid penis the thought of his cock sliding into her overcame any lingering rationale she might have had left.
With her hand, Debbie guided his throbbing penis to her wet opening. The pressure of his cock at her sex increased as the engorged head slid slightly between her soaked lips. She arched her back to ease his entry. Inch by inch she was giving herself to this black boy. His cock was pushing into the open folds of her moist vulva. She felt the delicious warmth as his thickening penis slid deeper and deeper into her, penetrating her, as she willingly opened her sheath to him. Erotic sensations were willing her to press against him until his young firm cock probed fully into her. The warm folds of her pussy enveloped his cock as it claimed her.
He stroked into her once, twice, and then again. Her lust had created an ache of desire for this forbidden mating. His shaft, glistening with her secretions slid in and out of her body, his hands fondling her soft white breasts, and his lips suckling upon her nipples.
He moved in and out of her for what seemed like an eternity as his cock made slow deliberate fucking motions into her, then out of her, then back in, stretching her and filling her.
Her pink lips spread wide, as his penis fit firmly inside her, possessing her. Her soft folds reveling at the feel of this unfamiliar cock. The boy’s black body moved in harmony with her pale body. She felt shameless bound in this willful union, her sex suckling his cock as it fucked in and out of her.
She locked her legs around the boy as she dug her heels into his buttocks in orgasm, pulling him into her, forcing his cock to fill her need until there was nothing left outside. Her hips rocked as he withdrew his hardness from within her. His muscles tensed as he drove harder into her. She heaved her hips meeting his thrusts. He lurched and Debbie felt his seed pierce her womb.
She lay exhausted to his side kissing his face. She opened her mouth to his tongue and drank at his lips.
The boy looked into her eyes and commanded, “I am your Dionysius, and you will belong to me.”
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jack standing on the deck watching them.
“Everything will change,” she thought to herself.
Later that morning she found Jack sitting on the deck. She sat in the chair next to him.
“I saw you and the boy on the beach this morning,” he said sounding hurt.
Debbie pulled her knees tight against her chest as if cowering.
“You had sex with him didn’t you?”
“Yes,” she whispered. Debbie sat motionless looking at the horizon wishing she were someplace else, “I’m sorry Jack, I didn’t plan for this happen,” she sobbed.
“You have cuckolded me with a black, boy,” he jeered spitting the finals words out one by one.
Sitting quietly for long moments, the tension between them palpable.
Jack finally asked “Will it happen again?”
Debbie hesitated before answering.
With downcast eyes and in an almost inaudible sigh she answered, “Yes.”
Things did change. Debbie acquiesced to the boy’s exclusive possession. As she lay naked she held his black cock in her hand as she sucked upon the swollen head. Cupping his testicles in one hand she bowed her head as she felt the soft skin slid across her tongue, the head probing into the back of her throat. She pressed down until he was totally in her, her lips stretched and jaws wide apart. She worked her tongue around as she lifted her face from him, stopping to suck and explore the tiny hole on the head.
She felt his hand gently tickling along her leg and over her hip. The other hand was cupping her breast and lightly pinching her nipples. She marveled at the joy she had come to know giving herself completely to this boy. Taking his cock deep into her throat she looked at her bare ring finger and saw her husband masturbating his flaccid penis on the sofa.
With the moon light shining in through the sliding doors Jack could clearly see into the bedroom. He could hear her moans and see the boy’s hands cupping her breasts and caressing her body. His eyes burned with lust as her mouth savored the rigid boy cock. His own need had lurched in his hand as he fumbled to hold on to himself. Opening her mouth she kissed the head of his penis and then engulfed it completely, taking him as deep as he would go into her throat. With her hand cupping his sack and squeezing lightly she moved her head up and down his stiff member.
In time the boy pushed her off and kissed his way to her breasts and encircled a nipple as he pulled hard to draw moisture from her. Debbie felt the rush of wanton desire course through her body as he trailed kisses down her stomach to nuzzle his face into her scent.
With heaving hips and the sound of inhaled breath, Jack knew that the boy was nursing upon her clitoris. Soon they fell into a naked embrace as the boy penetrated his wife with his black cock. He saw Debbie, eyes wide open looking at him, and he knew this was what she desired. Spent, he watched the two bodies lurch and lunge into each other, meeting the other’s thrusts and willing their every pore to pleasure above all else. Finally, at the peak of erotic desire the boy stiffened and moaned into Debbie’s breast.
Debbie, legs wrapped tightly around the boy, pulling him as far into her as she could to fill her need, cried out, “Yeeesssss!”
As she laid quietly, the boy teasing her nipple, she thought of Hattie. She would never have considered having sex with a boy. She knew it was Voodoo. Feeling the throbbing of the boy’s cock embedded firmly in her, she began to rhythmically rock. She was a married woman of thirty-two unable to refuse a perverse passion. She surrendered her most intimate treasure to this forbidden lust and the proof was in her now swollen belly, pregnant by a boy’s seed, with his black baby.
THE END