Voodoo Magic And Other Truths

Bree Moxam showered and dressed in her warm PJ's. She poured herself a glass of wine and curled up in her favourite chair. Tucking her feet up she fingered Trent's book. It was impressive from the outside, hard cover, embossed lettering, certainly different than anything else he had done. Not, she thought, that he had ever done much anyway.

It began at the start of semester. Bree caught Trent showing off a porn magazine in class to his mate; a series of pictures of bald female genitalia and explicit sex. The rules said that she should report him to the dean but she was new at the college and didn't want to have his dismissal hanging over her head. She waited till the end of class and gave him an opportunity to do a special assignment instead. With no option he agreed but he was pissed off with being publicly humiliated. As he was doing medicine and her class was ancient history, myths etc. they agreed to the topic: "the impact of witch doctors, medicine men and how they used voodoo, black magic and superstition to control their tribe."

An Australian, just turned 22 years of age and in her first semester as a lecturer she didn't want her American sojourn to start as badly as her last finished in Australia. A brilliant student and blessed with stunning natural beauty, 5' 2", long, luxurious brunette hair, a flawless complexion, with lips that always curved to a smile: beautiful seemed such an inadequate description. Coupled with a slim body, shapely legs and the most sexy set of boobs in town, her life was a dream until she arrived home one day to find her partner and her best friend up to their pubic hairs in each other. The other side of the world wasn't far enough away but it would do for the present.

That was then.

It was now the end of semester and Trent's assignment had been completed on time. She had a hint of a tingling sensation as she opened the cover. The set out was impressive: Red lettering over a misty background on a black page.

Ancient Folklore

Black Magic

Voodoo

And Other Dark Truths

Fact or Urban Myth?

Can you handle the truth?

Bree took another sip of wine and ran her hand over the page. She was pleasantly impressed.

The introduction talked in general terms about the history of beliefs in magic, witches, timelines and the susceptibility of poor, uneducated people to suggestion. All of which reflected the sort of teachings covered in class. It was not until the last paragraph that her interest was pricked.

"Research into hitherto unknown documents gives cause for belief that in deepest Africa there is evidence that voodoo was used to convert innocent women and girls to sex slaves. Of course, the argument will always be that due to the youthful age of the girls, their lack of education, their primitive beliefs at the time that any outcomes were simply a product of a form of self-hypnosis, a self-fulfilling prophesy, or fear of disobeying an elder. As this is intriguing new research we shall explore this in some detail." Bree started reading with some anticipation. She virtually skimmed the first few paragraphs which again was pretty much standard fare until she came to the section on voodoo.

She refilled her glass and turned the page with anticipation. She was surprised at the feeling of warmth, a tingling sense of anticipation as she took another sip of wine.

Trent detailed that his research uncovered two articles from the very earliest explorers of Africa where they evidenced instances of voodoo being used to turn young girls into sex slaves. The testimony was adamant that the witch doctors or medicine men actually used a form of voodoo which worked, and according to their testimony, in all cases. However, the articles were very old and as the tribe was small little had been heard of the articles and an accompanying diary. It was a time where communication was scant.

Bree, an avid researcher was intrigued as to how Trent had found such information as her research, which she knew was more than thorough over many years, had never found any reference to these articles. Knowing Trent and his lack of attention to anything closely resembling detail she had an inkling that he was simply making up a fantasy story. She took a mental note to seek confirmation.

The reality was that Trent was surfing the net for porn and sex slaves when by pure chance he came across the articles. That started the glimmer of an idea in Trent's mind to stir some shit on the cocky Aussie bitch.

Bree returned to the assignment: "Society readily accepts the concept of religion without question; people are fanatical in their belief, yet most people are sceptical in relation to anything surrounding the occult, black magic or things like voodoo. However, this original research gives detailed direction as to the process and this article will expand on that. Again, the argument will be raised as to whether it was real or simply a mind play on impressionable young girls at a time when people did believe in witches and other magic. The question is: would any of today's educated women be susceptible to any degree of suggestion such that their culture and beliefs were subjugated? Even in today's enlightened society there are people, well-educated and sophisticated people who will champion both arguments. The crux of this assignment: the believers Vs the non-believers. Perhaps there is only one way to prove the theory.

Bree found she was pleasantly surprised and enjoying Trent's article.

She turned the page and chuckled at the scrolled words. This was certainly a side of Trent that she had never seen.

Warning:

VOODOO

Read on at your own risk - YOUR future is HERE

You have been warned

The next page gave a brief explanation.

Dear reader, as you have chosen to continue reading this dissertation you do so with the full knowledge that nothing will never be the same. As one wise old sage said: I don't believe in voodoo but I'm sure afraid of it. Be afraid, be very afraid."

The following extract has been taken from authentic diaries kept by earliest explorers in deepest Africa. The authors swear by the truth. The steps below have been faithfully copied from the diaries. Obviously the terms and measures are unfamiliar but I will do my best to demonstrate how it may have been. Be warned that it is explicit!

The more difficult the step the more powerful the outcome!

The making of a sex slave.

Step 1

Make a doll of the target person. The closer to her real likeness the more powerful the spell will be.

Step 2

Make holes in the mouth, sex and anus where you would like to deposit your sperm.

Step 3

Where possible attach some of the female's hair to the doll's head.

Step 4

Where possible attach some of the female's pubic hair. This can be hard to get but is extremely powerful.

Step 5

Where possible obtain some of the female's menstrual blood and smear liberally over the doll's sex. This step will almost certainly guarantee successful conversion of the female.

Step 6

The next item was an extensive list of ingredients; some of which she recognised, most she didn't. The quantities were in ancient measurements which meant nothing to her.

Mix the ingredients together, add water and ferment for exactly one day and night. Strain the liquid. Within 24 hours ensure the female drinks all the liquid.

Step 7

If you have followed the instructions as written, the female is vulnerable and her mind and body are seeking her mate. Step 6, 7 and 8 must be immediately following each other. You must act quickly to complete these steps before she has sex with any other person or she will be tied to him.

You need to rub your sperm onto her body; the closer to her brain the better, ideally on the back of her neck near her spinal cord. This will tie her to you and identify you as her master.

Step 8

Fill the doll's holes with your sperm.

Step 9

Place the doll with any other intimate items in a box and leave them to work their magic.

Step 10

Wait. Two weeks.

Be patient. Her body needs to find you and condition itself for your pleasure. The sperm on her body is looking to identify a match to the sperm in the doll. When you next see her the connection will be made and the binding process will commence. Slowly at first, so you can enjoy watching her transformation. Many people say that the wait, knowing the prize is yours is the most erotic and enjoyable time.

Initially she will be confused by her feelings of lust for you. She will deny them, fight them, but they will grow stronger until she can resist no more. Then she will beg you, she is yours to use however you want.

Bree stopped and sipped her wine. She had never read or heard of the article Trent had referred to. Given that it was Trent there was always going to be a degree of scepticism, and she could see Trent trying to shock her with the assumptions 18 year olds are like that, but nonetheless, as a teacher she was annoyed, as a researcher she was intrigued.

"Oh my god, that's gross," she groaned, recoiling in disgust as she turned the page. She was confronted with a picture of a doll. The doll had a wig made of short brunette hair, sperm dripping from each of her holes, trimmed bush and the obscene bloodied gash of its sex. Subconsciously she noted that the doll wore lipstick and had her nails painted in the same colours that she wore.

It took a few moments more before her brain processed the fact that the doll bore an unmistakable resemblance to her. Then her mind exploded in a fit of rage.

"My god, how dare you, how dare you use a likeness of me without my permission then push it under my bloody nose. How fucking disrespectful," were her immediate thoughts. Thoughts and emotions that crashed her mind, overwhelming her. Then slowly the germ of an idea, a more sinister interpretation of what she saw dawned upon her. She fought to control the bile rising in her stomach.

"Oh no, oh no, oh my god noooo ... you disgusting creature.

He has made a voodoo doll: and made it in my image, just like he has written in step 1.

He is trying to show me that he has followed each of the steps described in the article?

So what that means... what he is telling me... is that he has put a voodoo spell on me..."

Bree shook her head trying to clear her thoughts.

"He's not just telling me: he

has

put a voodoo spell on me! Oh my god, oh my god. At least he has tried to... think, think. Well, if it's real. I mean, he doesn't know whether it would or wouldn't work. But if it works then he meant it.

"Christ what if it is real? What if it works? If he could cast a spell then he would turn me into... into... a sex slave... his fucking sex slave!

"Oh god no, please no it can't happen like that.

"How could anyone ne so disrespectful, so cruel?

"And now he has told me what he did, deliberately told me. He knows that we have discussed this in class, all the evidence is that voodoo is more likely to work when the target knows the spell has been made; it conditions the mind. I taught him that; and now he's using it against me. God, he wanted to shock me, to scare me. How could he do that to anyone? Fuck it, I'm his teacher for god's sake. And the arrogant fucking prick is going to be watching me to see how I react, having fun at my expense. What a sick prick he is."

Then slowly Bree calmed. "Fucking hell, I'm spooking myself," she thought. "The one thing I have continually taught my students is that for any spell; voodoo, black magic, whatever to work it must be followed exactly. Any change, any deviation makes the spell useless. Most processes were handed down verbally and became distorted. People took short cuts, used wrong measurements and the spell failed. Faith required evidence and so the beliefs declined. "

Bree took a deep breath. "I don't know what he used but there is no way on this earth that he could have got those things from me. This is his sick idea of a prank. My god, what was he thinking? How could he submit this to me? Surely he must expect some sort of backlash? he's stupid but not that stupid. He must know that I have to report this to the dean, this will get him expelled. And after this, good riddance. So why would he do it?" she thought. Bree had a big sip of wine and put the glass back on the table, yet she couldn't stop the butterflies in her stomach and the slight tremble in her hand. After a moment of reflection she turned the next page.

Slowly her eyes opened wide and her mouth fell open as she processed the information in front of her. She could feel her body trembling as her eyes scanned the page; the page a series of thumbprint pictures. "Oh my god, oh my god," an anguished cry escaped her lips as she stared at the page, her mind numb, her heart thundering in her chest.

The pictures followed each step of the process:

Trent at the wood turners. Computerised images taken from a series of photographs being fed into a computer, producing a 3D picture of her which was used to carve an almost perfect likeness, with holes fashioned in the appropriate places. And finally the finished doll, an almost perfect replica of her.

A pic of Trent stripping hair from a hair brush which she recognised as her brush and in her room. She was unnerved by the realisation that he must have broken into her house to collect items. If he went to that extent then this was either real or a bloody elaborate scheme.

A pic of her briefs from her washing basket as Trent lifted pubic hairs.

Then Bree put her head in her hands and groaned out aloud as she looked at the next sequence.

A pic of the women's modesty receptacle in the college toilet; empty.

An overhead pic of a woman, unmistakably her, early in the morning on the toilet.

A pic of one sanitary pad in the modesty receptacle; heavy period, saturated in blood. Bree didn't need to question the authenticity as she knew the recent date stamp on the pic was in the middle of her period.

Trent, a smiling Trent, rubbing the still wet and bloody sanitary pad over the doll's genital area. Her stomach turned as she saw the pics of him bringing the pad to his nose, smelling her aroma.

Bree was struggling with the information, she felt a tightening in her chest.

The next pic one displaying herbs and other ingredients laid out on a table and a conversion quantities chart to make a drink.

Then she closed her eyes as she recalled Friday night at the pub last week:

"Peace offering," he said holding it out to her and smiling warmly. "I've been a nuisance and it took this assignment to make me realise just how much of a pain I've been. I've got some really interesting stuff for my assignment and I'm throwing myself at it. I'm sure you will be captivated by the outcome," he said and bowed to her.

She had smiled at him and with little option accepted the drink.

"Given my assignment topic I thought this appropriate. It's called a voodoo," he said and they both laughed. He was charming, fun and made sure she drank every last drop.

"Oops," he said moving behind her as she finished the drink. "Pardon me, but your tag is showing." And with that he stepped behind her. Without waiting for permission he reached up and adjusted her clothing. She moved slightly as she felt his fingers gently rub the few spinal disks on the back of her neck to her hair line. She gave a small shudder as his hands were moist and clammy.

"God, he must use hand moisturiser," she thought at the time as she mumbled her thanks. "Thank you," she had responded and now wished she hadn't finished his drink. Hand moisturiser, her stomach lurched as she knew what the moisturiser was.

And it was all she could do not to vomit as she turned the page and saw a pic of his cock ejaculating sperm onto the doll's sex before he smeared it into her holes and over his fingers. She knew instantly where those fingers went next. For the briefest moment she acknowledged the impressive length of his cock.

She closed her eyes and tried to focus. There was no doubt in her mind that she was going to have him expelled. This was beyond anyone's sense of decency.

She didn't want to read any more, didn't want to turn the page but felt compelled to take one more look. Then she broke down sobbing as she looked at the last picture.

"Noooo," Bree cried when she turned to the picture. The doll was in a small wooden box. In the bottom of the box she recognised a picture taken by her ex of herself, naked, knees drawn up and sex exposed, inviting him to make love to her, a thong she couldn't find in the laundry, her gold ear rings, one of her pieces of belly button jewellery and to her horror her purple dildo. She realised that Trent had broken into her house to steal the items from her. She also knew there was now no possible way she could report this to the college head, the items too revealing and personal. She knew that he had reasoned that when she saw the collection she wouldn't report him.

Bree was shaking with fear and rage as she closed the book. Her body was awash with emotion as she fought to control the tempest in her mind. Unwanted the thought came to her that the steps had been completed. If there was any truth to the story... "there is no truth, none, sweet fuck all," she retorted angrily to herself. But she couldn't stop her mind straying again as she thought of the timeline. That was a week ago, a week, what had happened in a week?

"Nothing has changed," was her immediate thought. "The weekend was good, no problems. Got really ill on Monday, sort of like a morning sickness for what, four days so I didn't do anything socially," she mused. "And Trent was, well she had to admit that he had been pleasant and attentive in class. The fucking prick, what a disgusting person. Ok, he's been pleasant in class and stopped to have a brief chat and laugh afterwards. And we did run into each other at the markets when I did the shopping on Thursday after school. That was embarrassing as I got flustered, he took me by surprise. That was when my bloody nipples started doing their own bloody thing. In front of all those people, so gallant, simply taking my shopping and carrying the bags for me. Ok, we might have stopped for a coffee on the way home but nothing more than a bit of light hearted chat and laughter. Oh yes, the little shit was Mr nice guy then wasn't he. It would have been different if I had known this shit then! But no, nothing has changed. I mean, I was in control."

***

Sleep didn't come easily. Bree tossed and turned and when sleep finally came it was troubled by dreams.

She was on safari with Paul Smyth and a few other teachers. It had been a long hot day and they stopped to set up camp. Suddenly their guides burst into the camp screaming. "Run, run missy, slave traders, bad men they come. Hurry run for your life."

For a moment she was frozen in place then the adrenalin started pumping through her body. In a panic she let go her tent rope and ran blindly into the bush. She had no idea where she was going but was spurred on by the cries and sounds of conflict and confusion behind her. Fear drove her on as she heard the sounds of pursuit close behind. Her lungs and legs were burning from the effort yet she pushed on until a blow from the pursuing band of slave traders brought her crashing to the ground.