Voodoo, Magic and Other Truths

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She was exhausted, struggling to breathe, the pain in her chest burning her throat and lungs. The slavers surrounded her. They pulled her roughly to her knees. Taking her wrists they drew her arms back behind her forcing her head forward. They placed a wooden pole across her back. Her arms were bent around the pole at the elbows and her hands secured in front of her body. She was terrified as they secured an iron collar round her neck and attached it to a metal chain. Whooping in delight they headed back to camp pulling her along behind them.

Bree didn't see any other members of the safari. Alone and frightened she was bundled into the back of a jeep with four of the slavers. With her arms wrapped around the pole she was unable to make any move to ease her discomfort as the jeep bounced along the rough track. Finally they reached a substantial camp. She was hauled out of the vehicle. She looked in terror at the leering, laughing faces that surrounded her as she was paraded before the tribe.

The natives took her into the largest hut. She was trembling in fear as she looked around the packed room. She was led to the middle of the room where the chain attached to her collar was fixed to a pole in the centre and pulled tight drawing her to her full height, shoulders back and her breasts thrust forward. She felt a surge of hope when she her eyes were drawn to the one white face in the room: Trent.

She wanted to go to him, tell him what had happened, get him to help her but he was in earnest discussion with what could only be the chief. "Trent," she croaked almost inaudibly. "Trent," she cried desperately trying to attract his attention.

"Ooooh," she gasped as one of the slavers beside her slapped her face angrily. Seemingly from nowhere a striking young woman, about 19 or 20 years old appeared. She held a leather strap in her hand. Bree's eyes opened wide as she realised it was a gag. The girl smiled cynically as she dangled the gag it in front of Bree's face. The leather strap was about six inches long by three inches wide. The inside had an intricately carved wooden penis moulded to the strap, the penis dyed black and roughly an inch and a half thick and almost three inches long, the head a smooth bulb. Bree could see that there was a small hole drilled through the leather and the length of the penis as if to make it look authentic. The girl was laughing as she roughly forced the penis into Bree's mouth and secured the straps at the back of her head. Bree sucked on the penis, her tongue caressing it as she made it as comfortable as she could in her mouth. Tears coursed down her cheeks as she looked wide eyed in terror at the laughing faces around the room.

Bree's hopes rose as she saw Trent and the chief smile and shake hands. They rose and casually took the steps to her. Her eyes were pleading with him for help. Trent said something in a language she didn't understand and he and the chief laughed. Still chuckling he turned and looked at Bree. She was breathing heavily through her nose and the hole in the penis gag, her eyes wide, imploring him for salvation.

Then the room broke out in laughter as she screamed into the penis gag as Trent reached out and undid the buttons of her shirt. He pushed the shirt back over her shoulders exposing her breasts. She kept screaming in terror as, smiling and commenting to the chief, he reached out and started squeezing and fondling her breasts. But her humiliation was not complete.

All the slavers left the room. The only people left were Trent, the chief and the girl. The girl took a large wooden bowl and started to put herbs, seeds and a variety of other ingredients into the bowl before crushing them together and adding some thick black liquid. Bree could only stare as the girl freed Trent's penis from his shorts and began to slowly stroke him. She watched as the girl brought Trent to a climax, ensuring that every drop of his sperm fell into the bowl. Once she was satisfied that he had nothing left to give she stirred the mix together.

The girl separated the mix into three equal lots, placing the first into a small sac approximately the size of a baseball. Suddenly Bree knew what the hole in the gag was for as the girl attached the sac to a thin tube. Bree's head was tied back against the post prohibiting any movement and the girl fed the tube into the hole in the penis.

"Oooooooo, oooo," were the only sounds she could make as she tried to beg. Then with her mouth full of penis it was all she could do to swallow, or more precisely, let the vile fluid trickle down her throat as the girl squeezed every last drop into her stomach. Bree was fighting against the almost overpowering urge to vomit.

Bree knew what was going to happen as her shorts and thong were removed. The girl took the second sac and attached it to a wooden penis. Bree moaned in humiliation as the girl fed the penis into her sex then pumped the contents of the second sac into her. Leaving the penis in Bree's cunt the girl removed the sac and plugged the hole in the penis to ensure the liquid didn't drain away. To Bree's horror the girl repeated the exercise leaving her ass with a wooden penis and sac full of fluid in her. The girl used a small brush to clean up the remnants of the liquid in the bowl and carefully brushed it over Bree's nipples and areolas. She felt full. They left her.

It wasn't long before Bree started to twitch. Her nipples were becoming hot and sensitive. Her eyes opened wide in disbelief as she watched her nipples and areolas changing colour from a soft pink to the dark purplish hue common to the native Africans. The penis in her mouth started to feel good and she was gently sucking on it, her cunt and ass were full, hot and increasingly sensitive. As the intensity grew she found relief in squeezing hard against the wooden idols, using small movements of her legs to create some friction down there. Every movement rewarded by small sparks of pleasure. She sucked harder on the penis.

An hour later Trent and the girl returned. By then Bree was a seething mass of sexuality. She looked hungrily at Trent, she wanted cock. The girl pulled the penises from Bree's body and the fluid drained down her legs. The girl laid out a mat and Trent told her to lay on it. They didn't release her arms from the pole across her back and it was agony as she lay back on the mat. The only way she could relieve the pain was to spread her legs wide, push her feet to the ground and arch her back, thrusting her groin as high as she could. She realised that her cunt was open to Trent's gaze. Trent pointed to her cunt and the girl moved out of sight. Seconds later she returned. Bree knew what was going to happen as the girl placed the sticky straps over her bush and couldn't stifle the screams as the strips were ripped off her taking her pubic hairs with it. A small clean up before Trent rubbed her now hairless pussy and nodded in satisfaction. Without any ceremony and with the girl watching Trent stripped off his shorts and mounted her.

"Ok bitch, from this moment on you are bound to me. If any other male has sex with you his sperm will make you violently ill, if anyone fondles your breast you will feel agonising pain," he said. "You're mine and I will do with you as I please."

He was big, she felt him pushing to the depths of her cunt as he took his time enjoying her body. In spite of the pain she needed him to quell her rampant lust.

She thrust against him as he thrust into her to ease the agony of his weight on her shoulders and arms until the ache became a consistent agony. It was with a sense of relief when she felt his pace quicken then he arched his back as his balls filled her abused cunt with his sperm.

***

"Nooooo," she screamed in terror as she sat bolt upright in bed. Her body was saturated in sweat as she fought to control the pounding of her heart and her ragged breathing. "Nooooo," she cried a second time, confused as she looked around her darkened room, then a wave of relief washed over her as she realised it was only a dream. She collapsed back on the bed sobbing uncontrollably. Slowly and on shaky legs she got out of bed and had a shower to calm her jangled nerves.

"It was only a dream," she said to herself, her voice trembling. "Only a dream," she repeated as she broke down again in tears.

Bree was too afraid to go back to sleep. She was shaken to her core. Her mind was in turmoil as she alternated between denial and the growing realisation that Trent had placed a spell on her ... and it was working.

She went back to his assignment to look for errors, opportunities, anything. She took out a magnifying glass and studied the thumbnails. She felt a stirring as she studied the picture of his cock. This time she was very aware of his size; long and thick and hard, the same as in her dream. And as she looked her eyes glazed in a trance like state. In the magnified view she could see the sperm being ejaculated from the eye of his penis. She took a deep breath as her eyes followed the smooth curve of the mushroom head; the purple hue where his glans were as the helmet flared. Her tongue ran over her lips as she took in the thick veins running the length of his cock and his balls, caught high in his sac as they ejaculated his sperm.

Her fingers found their way to her sex and she was gently caressing her clit as mentally she imagined the tip of his cock gently parting the folds of her pussy, pushing, stretching her as it worked its way inside her body... "Noooo," Bree gasped in alarm, and flung the book away from her in disgust. "Oh my god, I have to stop this," she thought, her mind in a panic as she fought to regain control.

Driven by fear she knew she had to find a way to counter the spell. Frantically she searched her computer; site after site looking for some form of salvation.

By the time her alarm sounded in the morning she was ragged, tired and exhausted. It was Monday, numbly she followed her normal pattern getting ready for college. She was apprehensive as she drove into the car park and breathed a sigh of relief as she was the only car in the parking lot.

Trent was equally nervous as he arrived at the college. He knew that if Bree had told anyone about the book he would be expelled or even be taken by the police. Now, in the cold light of day he couldn't understand why in the name of god he had actually done it; couldn't believe that he had been so bent on getting revenge that he could take such a stupid chance.

It was the pictures of her naked that did it. When he found them he reasoned that there was no way she would alert the dean, this was his chance to really stick it to her. God alcohol does that to you.

From a distance Trent watched and followed Bree as she entered the school. He was relieved that she seemed to be following her normal pattern. At this stage, she made no move towards the dean's office.

Trent took a few breaths to calm his nerves. He might not be out of the shit yet he thought. He realised that Bree might not have read his book. That all hell may still break loose. But if she had ... if she had... then in spite of the obscene nature of the spell, the personal nature of the contents meant she wouldn't report it, couldn't. He realised he had a power over her. And suddenly he felt a euphoric surge of confidence and sexual arousal. By the time her class came round he felt invincible.

Bree decided that she would confront Trent to tell him how she felt, of her disgust. Trent's class was the last of the day. Before class she quickly went to the ladies, put on fresh lipstick, without thinking undid the top button on her blouse, she freed her hair from the pony tail and brushed it out, a quick squirt of perfume and she was done.

She could feel the flush of embarrassment as she entered the class.

As much as she didn't want to, she quickly glanced at Trent; wished she hadn't as she took in his smile. She was flustered, stumbling on wooden legs she staggered to her desk. She was hot, her face flushed, she wished she could undo a button of her blouse but she was already on the edge of decency. She could feel her nipples tightening with the emotion. She groaned inwardly as she realised that the hard buds were prominently displayed, two sharp points pushing against the material of her blouse, standing proudly in front of her, jiggling enticingly as she walked. She wished she had worn something more modest.

Bree had difficulty concentrating. As hard as she tried she found herself drifting to Trent's side of the room. Moreover, the longer the class went the more she found herself looking and speaking to him. She could feel a heat slowly burning within her body which she desperately tried to ignore.

She hurried through the lesson to end the class early; it was a mistake as it gave Trent the chance to wait for the room to empty. Confidently he approached her desk. Casually and with a leering smile he asked "Um, have you read my assignment miss?"

Bree ran her fingers through her hair. "Ah, look, I'm sorry Trent. I, ah, read the introduction but that's about all, I've got too much marking to do," she said waving her hand at the pile of assignments on her table. "Look, when I gave you the extra work it was not about getting a mark, it was about the discipline of getting you to apply yourself. In the circumstances I will let you self-mark," she said trying desperately to pacify her nerves. She took delight in the momentary look of disappointment that crossed his face. However he quickly recovered.

"Look, I know you did a lot of work and from the little I have seen it's presented well so I'm happy to let you have an 'A'" she said smiling sweetly at him. "Look, if I get time after all the assignments are marked then I will try to read it and critique it for you," she said trying to give herself some time and a degree of authority. "But I just can't do it now."

Trent didn't know what to expect. At first he was downcast when she said she hadn't read it but he could see her discomfort in speaking to him, he could see her blushing and the points of her nipples which had been eye magnets for the duration of the class led him to believe a different story.

He really didn't believe in voodoo or any of those things but he was certain that she had read his assignment. She hadn't raised the matter with the principal and now he knew she wouldn't. Yet she knew what was in the assignment, knew the sentiments, had seen the photographs and couldn't face him. He could feel a growing arousal. "No you've read it bitch. Yeah, you've read it and you're frightened. Fuck me, you believe in this stuff," he thought.

All Bree wanted at that time was for him to leave, she just needed a few minutes to gather her thoughts and emotions. It was just the knowledge of what he had done that caused her to become flustered she reasoned. She struggled to control her breathing as she slowly packed her books and notes into her briefcase. Then she almost screamed in frustration as Trent perched impudently on the corner of her desk. Her eyes flicked to the bulge in the front of his jeans, paused longer than she wanted before she dragged them away. Her embarrassment was complete as she looked at Trent and knew that he had seen.

Trent was in his element, with a growing confidence he played with her. "You really should read my assignment miss," he said calmly. "You will really be interested in some old obscure articles that I have found. They are supposed to be genuine although they do raise some interesting intergenerational challenges. We could have some interesting discussions as to whether voodoo can be applied to today's educated people or whether it was simply used to control superstitious and uneducated people. I mean, let's take you for instance. Now, you teach the subject so to a degree you are a true believer. So, does that make you more susceptible to suggestion or is there really magic?"

"The article suggests that both are true: in the end, the writer argues that in his experience voodoo really is powerful magic but when a believer, made aware that a genuine spell has been placed on her will find it impossible to avoid falling under that spell. Once the person knows of the spell it's like being reeled in like a fish on a line only it's the mind and all the senses. Give a bit of slack, reel it in, give a bit of slack, reel it in: only it's not a fish it's a person."

Then Trent started talking slower. Pausing between sentences, the pauses becoming longer, almost hypnotic.

"If you take a step back and look at the situation, it's sort of delicious, he crooned...

"The man knows the woman believes in magic, in voodoo... so he knows the woman is a good subject, at least she is vulnerable.

"Most people keep their fantasies to themselves but no, on this occasion he tells the woman that he is going to turn her into his sex slave...

"Imagine her shock. She knows who it is, what he wants to do to her and he even tells her how he is going to do it...

"She's in turmoil. Her problem is that in her mind she believes it can happen, she knows what the outcome will be but can't accept it...

"Naturally she rebels against the thought, her immediate response is anger, outrage, then it turns to fear, mind numbing fear...

"This is her life, she resents the thought that some man is going to steal her future, make her his slave, mentally she fights - oh but how she fights...but against what?

"But all the while she can feel herself inexorably falling under the power of the spell...

"Yet invariably she still believes that she can escape the spell, especially the educated women...

"For the first few days there is no outward sign of change, internally her body is being conditioned for him. All she notices is a growing sense of wellbeing in his presence...

"Then after a few days, if all the weights and measures have been done correctly she will become ill, like a bad case of morning sickness. Something is growing inside her. She can still function, still work but she knows something is happening to her...

"Her nipples are the first visible sign. Whenever she is in his presence they are in a constant state of arousal, hard little buds of desire proudly displayed for all the world to see...

"When she looks at him she knows that it is only him and her that know what those tantalising little points under her blouse mean...

"Then they start to ache - for him. If any other male touches her breasts it causes her pain...

"She starts getting hot flushes, hot sexual flushes, they increase in frequency and intensity...

"She starts dreaming of him at night, wild erotic dreams...

By now his voice was mesmerising, almost at a whisper and she leaned closer to hear him. In her hypnotic state she didn't note the change of reference.

"Inevitably the heat invades your most sacred place, your sex...

"Minute by minute; hour by hour; day by day your arousal increases...

"You are hot, aroused, sensitive; you can't relieve it...

"You know you are losing the fight...

"He can see it in your eyes, your look, the look of fear, of lust, and you know it...

"Your mind and body crave him; his touch, you need him, need him inside you...

"You feel the passion rising, rising, you can't fight it any longer, don't want to, you are being overwhelmed, you surrender yourself to him... to his desires.

The room was deathly quiet. Trent sat motionless staring at her; looking at the swell of her breasts, the points of her aroused nipples rising and falling as she took deep breaths. For long seconds she sat staring in front of her in a trance like state. It was almost over.

Then slowly, agonisingly slowly he could see her claw back some sense of control. With a supreme effort she fought her way back to the present.