Marie

Marie, the Voodooienne with the flashing silver eyes looked up from her table, strewn with bottles and jars, ancient scripts. Who would have thought such a place existed in a modern city like this. Cobwebs, dust and earth illuminated only by the enormous number of candles placed around the room.

Standing stock-still in the doorway, unable to look away and terrified to step further into the room, Michael stood trembling with excitement and fear. On entering the basement, he was always filled with a sense of homecoming. He loved to visit this Mistress, no matter how scared she made him. His obedience always slightly teinted with a little pride, knowing he was one of her favourite pets. Bringing her obscure knickknacks from his travels, having no idea what they were for, only that she requested them and was ecstatic upon receiving them.

Marie made her money from those visiting clients, who were desirous of obtaining "power" to regain a lost lover, to take a new lover, to eliminate a business partner, or even to destroy an enemy. Her own power was unmistakeable and her confidence unshakeable. The scent of herbs and oils seemed to be undulate from her body and imbed itself in the very walls of the room. “Did you bring it?” she asked, raising her eyebrow and staring directly at him.

“I have Madame, as you asked” Michael reached over and handed the Voodooienne a small, tatty pouch of dirty sackcloth.

Smirking at him, Marie pulled on a pair of tight leather gauntlet gloves and delicately pinched the sackcloth pouch out of Michael's hands. Opening the neck carefully and slowly, peering inside, she then began to laugh. “Wonderful! Thank you Michael, you've done very well”.

Michael knelt by her feet and dropped his head to the floor, relieved and grateful.

Marie was always barefoot and swept past Michael's head, brushing it slightly with her white lace skirts. He couldn't help but follow her feet with his eyes, smiling and reminiscing on how he had previously worshipped them and hoping that the next opportunity to do so would be very soon.

“Stand up Michael. I have a present for you, my best and bravest pet”

Michael scrabbled to his feet and stood upright.

“Do you love me Michael?”

“More than anything Madame!”

“Would you do anything I asked Michael?”

“Of course Madame – anything!”

“Would you be my pet forever Michael?”

“It's all I've ever wanted Madame”

“Hmmm…sure about that are you?”

Confused, Michael looked directly at Marie, who slapped his face hard with her gloved hand.
“That was for your impertinence. Look directly at me when you're told to and at no other time”.
Michael was really confused now. What was going on? He had always been allowed to look directly at Madame before?

“Are you my slave Michael?”

“Most certainly Madame”

“Then why don't you act like one Michael? I know your secrets. I know you have pride when it isn't earned. I know you disobey when you think I'm not looking. Oh yes, don't argue, I know that you slept with that whore in Thailand, even though you were supposed to be in chastity. But I'm always looking Michael, haven't you worked that out yet? I'm always with you”

Michael looked down, blushing with red hot shame. How the hell did she know??? No one knew!
“Because you smell of her Michael, she's all over your skin”

Her knack of mind-reading always unnerved him, more so now he had been caught out.
“You obviously don't have what it takes to be my slave on your own merits, so we're going to have to perform a little…mind alteration, mould you to what I think you should be like. Look at me Michael.” Marie drew his chin upwards and stared deep within his eyes. “You are mine Michael. Never doubt that. And after I give you your present, you will always be mine and mine alone”.

Sweeping the jars off the table, Marie threw a crisp white cotton sheet over it and told Michael to strip. He hated this. No matter what others thought of his body or the compliments he received from lovers, Michael could never be comfortable naked – the one area he felt insecure.

“Get on the table Michael. On your hands and knees – legs apart.”

Blushing further Michael did as he was told.

Running her gloved hands over his body, Marie smiled to herself and laughed out loud at Michael's obvious excitement.

“Beautiful boy. But willful. And I've had enough of willful from you. You will be a slave, the perfect slave and I'm going to make you so” she whispered in his ear.

Scattering a handful of rusty nails under Michael's arched body, she began to hum to herself. She then poured three glasses of rum – one she threw back down her throat, one she poured over Michael's back and the last she placed on the table in front of Michael.

'Christ above, what's happening now?' Michael thought to himself. He'd never seen Marie perform any of her rituals before, he only heard the muffled noises as he waited his turn outside her workshop.

A small bottle of oil, with flecks of gold suspended in it, appeared in front of Michael's face.
“I shall anoint you my special one, Michael” she murmured, dripping the oil on his hair and brushing it through with her gloved hands. Dripping the oil onto her fingertips and smearing it over his lips, his eyelids and then onto his cock, making him moan and writhe.

“Keep still and obey”

Michael did as he was told.

“Stick out your tongue Michael” and as he did, Marie slowly inserted an oiled, gloved and slick finger into his mouth, leaving gold flecks on his tongue and a taste of bitter cinnamon in his mouth.

Still humming to herself, Marie began to light some candles in red tea glasses and place them under Michael's arched body. Between the placing of each candle, she took a swig from the bottle of rum, until there were 20 candles and hardly any rum left.

Marie sat back in her high backed wicker chair to examine her handiwork and laughed. Michael was beginning to feel more ridiculous by the minute and shifted uncomfortably on the table.

“Still”

“But Madame…”

*slap!* again hard across the face. Her hand encased in leather felt like iron and Michael could feel the mark burning his cheek and tears welling in his eyes.

“Quiet. I'm going to give you what you have always wanted Michael, a little respect for me wouldn't go amiss”

“Yes Madame” Michael said quietly, bowing his head and letting his tears fall into the glass in front of him. The candles beneath him stinging only slightly more than his eyes.

Marie threw her own glass onto the hard floor and it shattered. She took off one of her gloves and picking up a shard which she held to her palm by her gloved hand, she made a tiny cut. She hummed as the blood welled and she trickled the ruby red blood into the glass.

Michael gasped as he saw Madame clench her fist and miraculously the wound sealed itself in front of his eyes.

Pulling on the glove again, Marie reached for the tatty sackcloth pouch and took a pinch of the contents. Dust? Michael thought. I went halfway round the world for dust?

“Not any dust Michael – goofer dust. From the grave of a very powerful witch. This will make you succumb to my gris-gris forever. No more questions, no more doubts, no more fear. You will be mine. Always”

She sprinkled the dust into the glass of rum, blood and tears and stirred it with her gloved finger, which she sucked clean.

“Now drink Michael and be mine”

She held the glass to his lips and tilted it gently into his mouth, humming all the while. When the last drop had gone, Marie smashed the glass on the floor, as she had the previous one and laughed.

“Madame. I'm feeling a bit…”

Michael collapsed onto the candles, putting them out and searing his chest.

Blackness followed for who knows how long. Michael certainly didn't, but Marie sat in her chair and watched and waited and waited, serenely.

When he finally came to, he found himself wrapped in the white sheet – not so pristine anymore and unable to move or speak. His eyes scanned the room around him and found those of Marie who smiled broadly.

“Sit up Michael”

He did.

“To whom do you belong Michael”

'To you Madame' Michael thought but couldn't say. He was mute. He couldn't speak! His brain yammered inside his head, panicked.

Marie smiled and reached out her gloved hand to him.

“Come to me Michael”

Michael felt his body getting up off the table and walking over to Marie. 'But I can't speak! I can't feel my legs! I can't walk! How is this happening??? He screamed inside.

“On your knees Michael”

His knees buckled and he dropped to the ground.

'Help me! Oh dear god, please! Help me! I don't know what's going on!' Michael screamed over and over in his head. His mouth silent, his face still, his body numb, yet somehow he was physically obeying her commands.

“Erect Michael” His cock became hard, but he couldn't feel it.

“Perfect!” Marie said ruffling his hair and walking away.

Michael stayed on his knees, screaming, pleading and begging with his mind for her to release him. Mute silence in his ears. The spell hadn't worked according to her plan. She had total control of his body, but not his mind. Yet she could still read his mind and didn't care.