Cristy's Quest Ch. 01 - The Big Easy

Introduction

What exact is a Meta-Empath? A Meta-Emath is someone whose already strong empathetic abilities intensify during a dangerous or erotic encounter. They are highly sensitive during sex and even moments of flirtation, often experiencing heightened stress or bliss. Further, they are hyper sexual beings who are capable of riding the emotive energy of an intimate encounter to dangerous levels of orgasmic release. Many are known to experience out of body orgasmic visions of other worlds and mind melds with their partner. There are two kinds of meta empathy, those of the light, who seek to love, liberate and heal, and those of the dark, who seek to enslave, control and captivate. Love making for both is fueled by lust, with the light preferring tenderness, while on the dark side the sexual exchange is marked by kink and experimentation.

When two metas meet their erotic exchange is one that will last not for minutes, but rather long days, weeks or months. When two metas from the light and dark sides meet the experience for both is highly volatile and can produce a strong emotional bond and mind meld between the two that afterward makes the light side more willing to experiment and accept risk and danger, with the dark side becoming more tender and willing to feel and even accept love. What quality both metas share is the willingness to cross taboo sexual boundaries that society has created and the ability to continue to seek out continued taboo erotic encounters after the first one is experienced.

In the opening story of The Cristy Chronicles, 30 year old recently divorced and mother of two Cristy Lee embarks on a well deserved vacation to New Orleans Mardi Gras during which journey she is seduced by the erotic spirit of the voodoo queen, Marie Leveau and her human host, the world famous porn star Ebony Ayes, or as Cristy calls her "big momma." Madame Leveau can see within Cristy her suppressed meta-empathetic powers and seeks to use them to help her return to the erotic underworld where time stands still and a war of good versus evil is being waged, in which Cristy is the ultimate prize.

Together with their Army trained bodyguard Quinton, the three seek out the portal to the entrance that is somewhere between the French Quarter and the oil rigs off the Louisiana coast. Along the way however they must battle a man from Cristy's youthful past who is now a dealer in high grade sexual narcotics, as well as arms dealers, voodoo witch doctors, street gang thugs, and mythical creatures disguised as sex starved human rough necks. Along the way Cristy's meta abilities as an Empath, with the help of the evil Dr. Bud's chemical assistance, blossom, the powers of which she will need if she is to survive in the erotic underworld of Middle Earth.

Prologue- The Legend of the House of the Rising Sun

Like many other myths and legends in the Crescent City, a cloud of mystery surrounds "The House of the Rising Sun," the song made famous by The Animals in the 1960s. Everyone agrees that it's about the dark and debaucherous side of New Orleans' culture, but that's pretty much where the consensus ends. But not where my questions do.

Was "the house" a brothel? A tuberculosis hospital? Slave quarters on a plantation? An antebellum syphilis clinic for prostitutes? (Really, that's an actual theory!) The lyrics have been changed so much over the years, it's really hard to tell. But, let's do a little detective work.

The two earliest recordings date back to 1930s Appalachia, but it's known to be older than that. In his book, Chasing the Rising Sun, the Journey of an American Song, author Ted Anthony actually traces the song's origins back to a bawdy English folk song that goes, "If you go to Lowestoft and ask for the Rising Sun, there you'll find two old whores, and my old woman's one."

Well, that certainly lends credence to the house-of-ill repute theory, but it's by no means proof. Lyrics from the earliest American versions include lines like "Going back to New Orleans, my race is almost run. Going back to spend the rest of my days beneath that Rising Sun." So despondent! Maybe a prison or hospital is plausible after all? Time to delve deeper into local lore.

According to my research, only two contenders are documented as having used the name "Rising Sun." A Rising Sun Hotel was located at 535-37 Conti Street in the 1820s. (This is on the same block as Paul Prudhomme's K-Paul's Kitchen and a block away from the Napoleon House, should you need a hearty dinner and/or a Pimm's Cup). An old newspaper ad mentions that the hotel has "the best entertainment" and that "Gentlemen may here rely upon finding attentive servants." (You decide if these are euphemisms.) Additionally, lots of rouge and makeup were found on the property. Interesting artifacts for a gentleman's hotel, doncha think?

The other documented candidate is Rising Sun Hall, which was owned by a social aid and pleasure club during the late 19th century on the riverfront of the Uptown/Carrollton area. Far from the seedier parts of town, but who knows?

Yet another theory involves a madam named Marianne LeSoleil Levant, whose name is French for "rising sun." Hmm. A couple of sources place her brothel at 1614 Esplanade Avenue, a very unromantic spot in the shadow of the I-10 freeway. But most say it was at 826-830 St. Louis Street, a block north of Chris Owens' infamous club and around the corner from Chef Susan Spicer's Bayona. This location is now a real estate office, and the owner says renovations uncovered risque postcards from the 1800s and a ceiling mural of a golden rising sun surrounded by three cherubs. Indeed!

I came across one final claim by a gentlemen who used to own Good & Plenty Records at 1129 Decatur Street, now the location of the Courtyard Gallery, across from the Magnolia Grill. Before his death in the 90s, "Record Ron" claimed this was the original site. It's totally random, but what the heck? Might as well toss it onto the pile.

So many theories, but where's the definitive proof? Only a few people truly know for sure, and one of them is Voodoo Queen Madame Marie Leveau, and legend has it that the house the song speaks of is the entrance to the underworld where all the creatures of mythology dwell. However, Madame Marie died nearly 150 years ago along with all of her secrets, including that of exactly where the fabled house and entrance were. Since her death many have sought out the entrance to what one may think of as middle or hollow Earth, where few humans have dared walk and return from. Those who have, like H.P. Lovecraft, H, Rider Haggard, J.R. Tolkien, C.S. Lewis and countless others before them since the dawn of man, have seen their true stories fictionalized with their tales now seen as simply fantasy, myth and lore.

There is a legend that says only Madame Marie knows the spell and enchantment to open the portal, and that enchantment is one that can only said by one deemed worthy and desirable by the gatekeepers of the underworld. Of course there are other ways in at various points throughout the globe, but only in New Orleans can one step through, descend directly and albeit safely into the arms of the Centaurs, the creatures who protect the top world from invasion by monsters like the Demogorgon, Cthulhu, Dragons, Minotaurs, Orcs, that will, if not stopped, seek out men to kill and eat, and women to mate and breed with.

However, in New Orleans there are underworld spies who for over centuries have been waiting for the return of Madame Marie in the hopes of gaining from her the enchantment and spell with which to open up that portal and unleash hell from the bowels of middle earth. The spies come in all forms, including many who will soon learn of Madame Marie's return along with that of her lovely new friend- Cristy Lee.

Cum & Take Me to the Mardi Gras

Less than 12 hours before she was to depart for her girl's Mardi Gras weekend, the beautiful and lovely Cristy Lee lay naked underneath her sheets sated after an intense love making session with her ex and father of her children. As she basked in the afterglow she cupped her mound and felt his warm seed that mixed with her still flowing juices. Even though the man had been cruel to her in the divorce he still turned her on and was able to press all of her orgasmic buttons.

Their problems of course were never in the bedroom; however that was a long story that as she touched and caressed herself she did not want to think about. Instead, as somehow her phone started playing jazz, she wanted to think about where she was soon going to be, in the French Quarter getting hammered and going wild just like she had always wished he would have let her do when they were married.

"If only there were a man who would let me be free and love me the way that people who write books talk about, without limits or conditions yet never fearing the love will go away." She thought to herself as she reached down and spread her wet lips apart to gently stroke her aching clit. As she did she purred and imagined a faceless stranger between her thighs taking command of her and worshiping her pussy like her girlfriends said she long deserved. The question of course for Cristy was just what would her mystery lover, or lovers, look like, and could she find one or more in the decadent French Quarter.

All Cristy wanted from her life and relationships now was no drama, for that was what killed her marriage, The drama sucked what joy there was out of their love making, especially his jealousy and lies, both of which he brought to the table. She was a good wife, but clearly that was not enough for him, even though she sucked his beautiful cock every night, morning and whenever else he asked. She would have done anything for him, literally "anything" no matter how perverse or strange, just to make him happy.

As her mind started drifting back to reality she stifled those thoughts and refocused her attention on what her girlfriend said were her insatiable need, that being her love of having an orgasm, and as she thought of New Orleans, her mind focused on the movie "Interview With a Vampire" and the scene that turned her on the most, when the blonde mortal woman was taken on stage by the gang of male vampires. Not that she wanted to be raped, but the thought of nameless men touching her was now starting to make her wetter the more she remembered the scene and wondered if she would ever have the courage to be so open sexually in public.

Of course, in New Orleans, masks during Mardi Gras were standard faire, so, as she probed her moist opening more intently she envisioned her disguised self on that stage being poked and pleasured....

As Cristy replayed the scene in her head and touched herself sensuously to bring herself to orgasm after orgasm, her sexual spirit somehow awakened the long dormant ghost of one Marie Leveau, the legendary voodoo queen, who found herself naked at the foot of the bed as the most beautiful white woman she had ever seen scream out and convulse in pleasure. The sight of this lovely woman left the voodoo queen transfixed as she cupped her own mound, but in vain, for even though she had desires, she had no human host with which to quench them.

As Marie Leveau surveyed this beauty who, despite having already cum, was seeking out yet another orgasm, she sensed in her to be the "soul sister" that history had always denied her, for this enchanting white skinned desirous woman was someone whom the gods must have delivered her to for a reason, but why? If only she could taste this beautiful white woman with breasts that made her mouth water as she imagined the taste not just of her tender skin, but also the milk they clearly still contained.

As Cristy came hard again, Marie's ghostly form straddled her and looked deep into her eyes as they flew open in orgasmic release and peered into her beautiful soul. What she saw in there melted her heart for this lovely girl also knew the pains of loss and love, as well as other tragedies, just as she did. The queen also saw within her the same insatiable desires, yet with Cristy they were unknown and unfulfilled, much like many of the Queen's were, which is why she sensed their eventual coupling would be perfect, but only if she could find the perfect host.

As Cristy came again, this time with such a force that it brought true tiredness to her weary oversexed and sweaty body, the Queen leaned in to kiss her; however, she soon realized that was impossible, and so she left the beautiful fair skinned and raven haired beauty to sleep and then surveyed the dwelling in which she now found herself.

As a ghost, despite her nudity and striking features of large full breasts with the darkest of nipples and her shaven pubis and tall statuesque physique, no one would have the pleasure of seeing her in all her natural glory. However, she was hopeful that she could and would find a suitable host that matched her own beauty and features. If so, then she could appear before the petite woman and hopefully get to know her intimately; yet that person would have to be someone whom Cristy would accept and not be afraid to be intimate with, be it physically or spiritually.

As the Queen looked around she knew there had to be a reason why soul was in this house, which she discerned was somewhere in the South, and from what the calendar read, the 21st Century. With that knowledge alone of the place and year the Queen was nervous as to what the world looked like now after 200 years, for as a black woman the world she knew was not kind to either women or those of her skin color,

Fortunately, as she surveyed the headlines on the newspaper on the kitchen table and saw images of black celebrities and politicians, she smiled knowing that America was not the racist place she once knew. Fortunately for the Queen, the television had been left on so she could also get a sense of what a black woman's place was in 21st Century America, and from what she could see, black women were more beautiful than she remembered.

As the Queen continued to watch what appeared to be a sporting match of some sort involving a statuesque black woman named Serena, whose outfit would have gotten her lynched in her time, and whose appearance also served to make her ghostly womb wet, she saw on the other side of the room what appeared to be the box in which her ashes had once belong. She knew that to be so from the French inscription and the fact it was now opened after 200 years and appeared to be gift from Cristy's friend in New Orleans, who wrote on the note card next to it, "I know you love old jewelry boxes, so I knew this would be perfect. Have fun in NOLA! So sorry I can't join you :-(."

"Ahh!" Said the Queen. "That explains it! So 'Cristy' is going to travel to my city? Hmm?" Which was even more apparent now that the Queen recognized what appeared to be clothes laid out for a trip. Though, even for a woman who was 200 years removed from fashion, this Cristy did appear to like wearing a lot of simply white tops made of a stretch material and bottoms made of a blue canvas like material.

As the Queen surveyed her wardrobe, she looked at her ghostly image in the mirror, a sight that only she could see, and wondered how tempting her still youthful body would look in some of Cristy's provocative wear. The Queen then gazed over at the now sated and sleeping beauty and joined her anonymously in bed. She traced her soft skin with her dark spirit fingers and wondered what her lovely body tasted like. Was her moistness sweet like hers was, and did the milk that still dribbled from her pert little pink nipples taste as wonderful as the best milk she had every tasted fresh from the dairy?

Soon she hoped she would know, for tomorrow their journey to New Orleans would begin and at some point the Queen sensed she would find the perfect body to inhabit and hopefully get to know Cristy more intimately. In the meantime, Marie intended to use her ghostly powers to inhabit Cristy's dreams, which at the moment were just beginning to start as she entered the first phase of REM sleep and found herself in a world inhabited by strange creatures in a place where Minotaurs, Orcs and Centaurs reigned and humans like this very fertile Cristy served and mated with them at their pleasure...

What Dreams May Cum- Saved By The Centaurs

The last thing that Cristy remembered when she awoke in a meadow field was that she had been laying in bed touching herself when she heard a female voice with a thick French accent whisper in her ear, "follow me my love." As her eyes adjusted to the sun and her surroundings she looked down to see that she was in her bare feet and wearing over her a white translucent sun dress that did little to hide her milk filled breasts and the rest of her body, as it barely covered her beautiful bottom and the lips of pussy.

As she rose to her feet she realized she was in a meadow that seemed to be like those she saw on her drives through Kentucky. When she got to her feet she heard approaching from behind her the sounds of many hooves, yet as she spied the approaching herd she had to take a double take, for the creatures that approached her were not at all what she was expecting. Instead what quickly she realized that the horses were men, or half-horses, while on the back of one sat a very buxom and statuesque naked black woman who dismounted and approached her with a hungry smile as she eyed Cristy up and down with a desirous look.

"Greetings my beautiful soul sister, my name is Marie Leveau and these are my playmates here in this place of our dreams."

Marie then saw that her name did not register in Cristy's mind and took her petite hand in her larger one and said, "come my dear, let us escape from the creatures heading our way, for you are in grave danger! Let me help you up here on my steed."

After Marie mounted her Centaur, she effortlessly she reached down for Cristy. At five foot two inches tall and weighing barely above 110, the "MILF" whom many of the men in her town called her was lifted up effortlessly by the athletic and muscular ebony goddess who towered over her at six feet and seven inches tall. Marie, who was a "she-hulk" whose firm and muscular like a toned athletic body had incredibly large and firm breasts with the darkest of brown nipples.

The sight of her unashamed nudity and confidence somehow made her a woman that Cristy felt she could connect on a very deep level with. Of course Cristy could easily hold her own as one of her old neighbors constantly reminded her whenever they talked. That old friend was still very much in love with her and was forever comparing her to a beautiful work of art that many saw but few truly appreciated. Cristy was tough and when she was mad and passionate that was when she was her most beautiful and radiant. She was literally a woman of no fear whose mouth got her often into trouble, and whose mouth he also reminded her could bring a man to his knees and get her out of any bad situation.

Once up on the steed Cristy wrapped her arms around the waist of Marie and pressed her body up close to hers and rested her cheeks on her smooth skin that smelled of lavender. She felt tiny next to this powerful woman as she looked around at the silent Centaurs who surrounded them. Cristy had been so nervous and focused on Marie that she had not really soaked in the sights of these powerfully built half man half stallion creatures, all of whom had perfect beautiful physiques. Of course she could not help notice that underneath them their male appendages were longer and thicker than her or Marie's arms.