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Hoodoo Dreams Part 1

Tags: f/f, f/m, m/m
Samantha looks to excape her past in a foreign City, and the Hoodoo fills her dreams with depravity!
New Orleans. City of a million dreams. The Big Easy.

Samantha had roamed the crowded streets of the French Quarter looking for the excitement that she craved. She was looking for something to fill the void left after the break-up. It was hot and steamy and only hours away from July. She scanned the crowds through eggshell blue eyes, a lot of lost souls looking for something similar, a break from everyday life, excitement or a forbidden thrill.

It was almost dark and the neon lights were full, the music spilling from bars, a heavy New Orleans beat, the pianos, the horns, the heady thrill of the second line, the beat of sex and attraction. Samantha’s heart began to race. Maybe she would find something here. If you were to find excitement anywhere in the world, then New Orleans had to be the right place to be.

She looked up to an ornate balcony where a pretty blonde girl lounged looking out over the crowd. She sipped absinthe from a dark green glass, hardly hiding her breasts in a slip of a black dress as she leaned over the rails. Samantha stared up at her and envied her inhibition. The girl looked as if she had no care in the world and lived only for pleasure. It was the way Samantha longed to be, free and untamed.

Being out of England did give her something of what she craved; a place where no one knew her name; a place where she could escape anyone’s preconceived ideas of how she should look or behave. She stared up at the blonde beauty as if mesmerised, until the girl caught her staring and smiled down at her. Samantha stepped back into the crowd to hide away, embarrassed to have drawn attention to herself.

The absinthe still swirled through Samantha’s blood as she slept, making her restless. Vivid dreams tormented her. She sighed and moaned without waking. She dreamed of the strange place she had visited that day buried deep in the French Quarter; the small shop filled from floor to ceiling with charms and potions and voodoo dolls; the small shop with its smell of tallow candles, incense and tobacco smoke; the small shop so hot that it was a relief to step back into the burning street outside and breath amid the crowds of tourists passing by on all sides. She dreamed of the little old lady who huddled in one corner, smoking and chattering to herself, who had roughly taken her money with a dry and withered hand and then turned away. She dreamed of the small black bag she had purchased, filled with roots and magic and black cat essence; the mojo which she hoped would help her find the passion she desired and craved. She ran the fingers of one hand through her blonde curls and muttered in her sleep. She threw back the white sheet from her naked body revealing her golden skin and gorgeous slim curves. She twisted her upper body back so that her shoulder blades were against the mattress and her large firm breasts were thrust upward invitingly. Above her on the iron bedpost the little black bag hung, swinging gently as she moved. She dreamed of the little shop and her visit in the midday heat. She dreamed of the Hoodoo Palace.

The little black bag had been sealed in clear polythene and stapled to a small square of cardboard. The board was dark brown and covered in a mass of white letters; the spell of the Mojo Hand, and the instructions for its use.

This gris-gris for the beautiful but shy. Use wisely for this is powerful magic of the Big Easy. Once you call on me there is no return. The spirit is unleashed. When potential lover calls, clutch me, hold me tight and wait. Be ready!

Samantha dreamed.

She was naked but for black leather boots; knee high lace up boots with spike stiletto heels and hundreds of chrome eyelets; knee high lace up boots which creaked as she moved and made her long legs taught and muscular; knee high lace up boots with spike stiletto heels which clicked as she moved along the marble hallway. She breathed heavily, her large round breasts rising and falling, her pendulum hips swaying. She was already soaking between her legs, dripping the warm evidence of arousal from her swollen shaved pussy, rubbing her thighs together as she walked to ease some of the erotic tension inside.

A sharp tug from her Mistress’s long silver chain made her topple forwards and reminded her of her one other adornment; a black leather collar, two inches wide and padded; a choker, with its chain leading away from her in a low arch, up into the small tight fist of the lady who led her, a beautiful dark skinned girl in a black lace bodice and flowing skirt.

Her Mistress turned her face to her, her lips curling into a snarl of displeasure, and she pulled hard on Samantha’s chain to urge her along.

But Samantha faltered, and fell to her knees at her Mistress’s feet. The woman reached down and took her roughly by the curls of her blonde hair. She turned her face to hers and looked down into Samantha’s hazel eyes.

“You stupid whore!” she hissed, “If I had time I’d fuck you right here in this hallway, but I must go away tonight, and so I’ll wait my turn. Right now my drudges await their feast, and I cannot deny them.”

She reached her hand beneath Samantha as she held her head up high. She reached beneath her to her heavy breasts, and she grasped one round globe in her palm, squeezing the flesh. Then she slid her thumb and fingertips together and tugged at one erect nipple, digging her nails in until Samantha squealed and turned her body to one side to ease the sharp pain. Her round eyes filled with tears.

The Mistress rang a bell in the hallway which sounded heavily some distance away. Two maids quickly came running. On the Mistress’s signal they took Samantha by the shoulders and half dragged, half led her away.

“Take her to the banquet hall where the drudges are waiting. After six days in their cell alone with only each other to suck and bugger they will be eager for some female flesh no doubt, and I’m sure her pretty round ass will endure the same treatment they have inflicted on each other. Lock her in when you leave her, and then return the key to me chamber.” Her wicked laugh echoed in the hallway as she turned on her heels and walked away.

Samantha clambered forward as the maids led her away. Her knees were sore on the hard marble floor. She sighed and muttered her defiance, but her body was quivering with excitement now, wet with perspiration, dripping between her legs, compliant and aroused.

She was thrown inside the banquet hall, face down, still on her knees so her round bottom was raised up behind her. She heard the heavy door slam shut, and shuddered as the key slowly turned in the lock making her a prisoner. She stared at the carpeted floor hardly daring to look up and she breathed fast and hard.

“Mercy!” a deep male voice croaked from deep within the room. “Look what we have here boys!”

Samantha heard the man slide his chair back and pace slowly over to her. She saw his bare feet and thick ankles before her, grimy and shining with sweat.

“Miss la Veau must be pleased with us to give us this treat. Just look at the bitch, in boots and a collar, all ready for fucking!”

Samantha cowered as she looked up with wide pleading eyes at the man who towered over her. He was naked also except for shackles on his wrists and chains from these leading to a chrome collar around his throat. His huge cock was swollen and erect, jutting from a bed of thick dark curls over Samantha, dripping with pre cum.

She gulped and tried to speak but she could find no words. She was terrified and achingly aroused together, her heart pounding, her breasts and pussy swollen with desire.

Another naked man joined the first and stared down at Samantha, also grimy and in chains, with long dark hair almost hiding his face, and then another, and then another. All the men had huge semi hard cocks which became all Samantha could see, knowing she would have to accommodate them in one way or another.

The light in the room suddenly burnt a fierce red and the heat intensified. Samantha could feel the perspiration breaking on her skin as she writhed in the furnace, looking up at her four tormentors. Her pussy gaped and dripped its juice down her inner thighs and her nipples stiffened to long buds.

The men grew into demons, their skin glowing red and horns growing from their heads, their muscles flexing. Their massive cocks swelled and lengthened further as they fell down upon Samantha and they grasped and pawed her body with heavy hard hands.

“Oh my God!” Samantha muttered.

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