This is a story about the exotic Shannon Stewart, the June 2000 playmate. Millions of men have been haunted by her mysterious eyes and captured by her voluptuous body. Thousands have tried mightily to bed this beauty; and some even have had the heavenly delights of her flesh. But only a very few know that the haunting sex goddess is also haunted.
The night Shannon Stewart was born was lit by a full moon; but the lovely girl's eighteenth birthday had a new moon and the night sky was pitch black. The witches of the bayou always told her she would be marked and on this dark night of the black new moon she was going to fulfill her destiny. As the church bells in New Orleans chimed midnight the beautiful young virgin was tied to a pole in a private cemetery in one of the oldest parts of the city. Her white wedding dress caught the faintest glimmer of the stars and revealed the lush lines of her curvaceous body. Her creamy breasts were red with her shy blushes as they heaved up and down with her terrified breathing; even under the bridal veil her eyes flashed with panic. A silk scarf was pressed between her soft red lips and muffled any sound she might make as waves of apprehension swept over her like the hot summer breeze. But she was excited too and proud that she was the chosen one. She was waiting tonight to be ravaged and raped by a ghost. Only Shannon's virginal sacrifice could end a curse over two centuries old. Now there was the sound of boots on the ancient pebbled path in this sacred spot. Shannon screamed with joy and dread as the monstrous shadow of the vengeful ghost came to claim her maidenhead.
.....................................
Months before, in the winter back in her home town, Shannon was with a group of her high school friends sitting in front of the fireplace at the home of the most popular teacher in the school. He was sharing pictures and artifacts from his family estate and he was, in fact, telling the girls a ghost story, the story of his ancestor Captain Le Rouge. He was called the red because he was a bloody pirate in his youth. In his old age he had transformed himself into a respected merchant and even took a wife and raised a family. When his first wife died he took as a bride the most beautiful girl ever to walk the streets of New Orleans, Charlotte Deneuve.
The wedding was on her eighteenth birthday, but that night the captain's evil past caught up with him. Some of his old crew who he had betrayed and abandoned finally caught up with him. They kidnapped the lovely young Charlotte and bound and gagged her on her wedding night. She was still in her wedding gown, and they captured her just as she was going upstairs to her bridal bed. The pirates were stopped as they fled the house but in the brief yet bloody skirmish Charlotte was murdered.
"And to this day, she haunts the house, moaning and crying because her husband did not protect her and possess her on her wedding day," the teacher went on in a muted voice. "It's said that until she finally has a husband that she will not rest."
The girls all took a deep awed breath; Shannon's eyes were wide and they sparkled in the light of the fire. "Here's a photo of a painting that hangs in the family home. It was finished on May 25, 1778, her wedding day, the day she died."
"Wow, that's my birthday!" Shannon said in a hushed voice. Then she blushed, "I mean, May 25th, not like I was born in 1778."
"Holy cow! She looks like you," Shannon's friend Cindy exclaimed. Sure enough, the copy of the old painting looked exactly as if Shannon had posed in an old fashioned dress. She blushed even more and the other girls teased her. The teacher looked serious and solemn for a moment then took the picture back. "No, it doesn't look like Shannon at all. Let's have no more of that." But still his brow was furrowed as he studied Shannon's beautiful face quietly.
For days and weeks afterwards, this was all Cindy could talk about. She was convinced that Shannon was the reincarnated spirit of the woeful Charlotte Deneuve. She even talked Shannon into wearing a gown like the one in the picture to a costume party. Finally a few weeks before Shannon's eighteenth birthday Cindy took her to a gypsy witch.
"Yes," the old hag sputtered as she pawed Shannon's hand eagerly, "There is great power in you. You have the destiny to save a lost soul, to finally allow a wretched creature to find lasting peace. Great strength is here in you but there is a great sacrifice you must make." Shannon was almost ready to faint from the strong smell of the incense burning in the small hut. Cindy was almost jumping up and down with excitement.
"What is the sacrifice?" Shannon asked meekly.
"You must take Charlotte's place in the bridal bed!" Both Shannon and Cindy gasped. Nobody had told the gypsy anything about Le Rouge and Charlotte Deneuve. "Yes, the night is coming, the blackest night. There was no moon that night either." The witch's eyes were rolled back in her head and her hand was stroking Shannon's as if the young girl was a cat. "Le Rouge will do his duty with you and your body will release Charlotte's soul."
"Hey," I don't like this!" Shannon got up and ran out of the room. On the way home the two girls argued. Cindy was positive about what the gypsy meant and she was determined that Shannon was going to do it. Something about the whole thing bothered Shannon and she was afraid, afraid of ghost and afraid of what exactly it meant for Le Rouge to do his duty with her.
Shannon was always busy at beauty pageants and she had little time for dating. Cindy, who was always a bit overweight, had a lot more experience and would get annoyed when Shannon would reject the approaches of boys at school and men at clubs. Secretly Cindy was jealous of Shannon's beauty and innocence and Shannon didn't realize that Cindy had many motives for pushing the virgin to the task.
A couple of days after the visit to the witch. Cindy met Shannon at her locker. "I've got terrible news. I know everything now. You are Charlotte Deneuve and if you don't do this the curse will be on you!" Cindy explained that not only was Shannon the descendant of Charlotte, but their beloved teacher was the direct descendant of Le Rouge and looked exactly like him. The curse would fall on him too. Shannon wanted to laugh but Cindy looked impossibly serious. So serious that they cut English class so Cindy could show her lunar charts, maps of the old city, pictures, and the detailed instructions from the witch. "And look, I even got the key to the mansion." She had told the teacher that she wanted to do a project on the history of New Orleans and would like to take photographs of his family home. "He only uses it during Christmas break. He doesn't like to stay there 'cause, you know, the ghost."
Of course Shannon resisted but Cindy slowly broke her down. Deep inside Shannon there was a real fear that the curse was real. She did look like the picture and it was her birthday that everything happened. Even the stuff with the moon all matched.
So on the fateful day the two girls were skipping school and driving to New Orleans. In the trunk of the car was the bridal gown that Cindy had prepared along with all the instructions and admonishments from the old witch. As they traveled they rehearsed all the details over and over. Shannon was getting more frightened by the minute but she also felt a curious tingle and thrill at the idea of meeting this sexy ghost.
Cindy had taken charge of everything and had insisted on making an appointment an exclusive salon in the city. Shannon hair was washed and perfumed and piled delicately on top of her head. They did her makeup, paying special attention to highlight the mysterious almond shape of Shannon's eyes; they used colors that accented the way the young beauty's eyes already sparked like rainbows. Even her nails were buffed and polished.
Dinner was at a fancy restaurant and Cindy had ID so they ordered wine. Shannon blushed when Cindy made a toast to the bride. "That's not funny; I'm really scared."
"Well, you look gorgeous. All I know is that he's one lucky ghost."
Shannon's face was now scarlet and even more beautiful as it glowed with innocence and purity. "Do you think it will hurt?"
"Who knows? He's a ghost."
They arrived at the house well after dark. It was a huge mansion in the oldest part of town on a dark and lonely street. It was painted deep dark colors and was surrounded by a black iron fence except for the private cemetery which was guarded by a high stone wall. It all looked very menacing.
