Chapter 1

St. Peter, St Peter, open the door,

I'm callin' you, come to me!

St. Peter, St Peter, open the door,

Papa Legba, open the gate for me, Ago-e

Ativon Legba, open the gate for me;

The gate for me, papa, so that I may enter the temple

On my way back, I shall thank you for this favor

The young girl was naked.

She was stretched out on the black marble table. Her eyes were closed. Her breathing deep and relaxed. Little tremors could be visibly seen centered in her lower abdomen and her pubic mound. Her lips were forming the very same words being chanted in dull monotone by hooded worshipers gathered in a circle around her.

Marie was not conscious, yet she was not sleeping either.

No ear outside this darkened chamber could hear these words. They were only for the ears of the under-lord so familiar to them all. Beads of sweat were running off the rounded breasts and concave hips of the beautiful young girl.

It was difficult to say if Marie was White or Black. She was one of those beauties of the French Quarter that fell into the Octroon plus category. Her skin color was more darkly shaded white. Untouched by Mother Sun and sheltered from the elements. Her features were sharply defined. When considered in their totality, her face appeared somewhat predatory. Softness was not an ingredient of her visage or of her character.

The chanting stopped.

Marie's eyes opened. She stared off into space. Seeing nothing. Seeing everything. Her eyes were silent conduits of multi-dimensional communication.

Her naked hips began to gyrate instinctively. No sounds, no music. Yet the rhythm was unmistakable. The young virgin was accepting her spirit lover inside her unblemished pure body.

She was thrusting high in the air, lifting her lean, petite ass cheeks up off the cold marble. This mating dance of spiritual lovers told of consuming passion and shattering release.

"Take my sweet sheath, my lord. I am thy anointed servant here and in the afterworld."

The tiny girl fell back to the altar in a limp and listless state.

Two of the worshipers dried her wet body with Jasmine scented towels. They dressed her in her everyday walk around clothes. Combed her hair with whalebone brushes. Placed her simple sandals on her tiny feet. Her toes were painted blood red as were her lips.

A tall man stepped forward and placed his hand on the girl's forehead. Wordlessly, he snapped his fingers three times.

Marie awoke with a sense of well-being. Her friends and teachers told her she had been a wonderful guide.

"Noo Def?"

"Maa Ngi Ri"

Marie and her teacher spoke in the ancient language buried in African roots. He inquired about her journey and she responded that all was well with her and she was at peace.

"Marie Ma Cher, This is Michael. He will be your Hep Cat whenever you leave your house."

The young man was nervous and bowed to Marie asking forgiveness for his unworthiness. He was young but he was hep-a-cat and was aware of all that was past and all that is now. He was here to protect Marie just as her two shadows, Saul and Jeremiah, formed a barrier to evil forces.

"Glory be to Queen Marie ... As it was in the beginning, is now, and shall ever be."

Michael caught her unaware by referring to her by the title, Queen! Then the realization sank in that from here on in, she would be the true Queen of her Voodoo practitioners. Their fears, their worries, their pleas were her only concern now and she must be strong in her resolve to serve them even as they served her.

Marie's teacher handed her a cloth bag filled with several essential gris gris for her consultations and divining sessions. He told her to be very careful with the black drawstring purse which contained her poisons necessary for special cases.

She touched the silver cross reverently. It contained the tiny relic of Saint Patrick, the driver of snakes. A powerful juu juu and source of her divine power. Marie had no idea of the location of a Country called Ireland but she knew the mystical power of this legendary healer.

Marie beckoned Michael to her side. She reached out and touched his bulging crotch. The length and thickness of Michael's genitalia satisfied her expectations.

"Michael, it will be necessary for me to use your juices from time to time to achieve my duties. Are you ready to serve me fully and give me your juice when I require it?"

"Yes, great one. I will keep my juice for you only. It will be ready for you whenever you need it."

Exactly the right answer. Marie waved the others to disperse into the early morning mist. The crypts were receiving the first rays of light. Darkened shadows flitted away into the cold morning air. It was difficult to discern if they were human or wisps of the spirit world seeking their own niche of dark solace.

Now it was time to go home to Mama and Papa and tell them the good news of her ascendancy. The Ward had been devoid of a true Queen for several passings of the moon.

It was time.

Time for Queen Marie to attend to her flock.

VOODOO QUEEN PART II

Today is Sunday!

Marie stood on the grass outside the Catholic Church dressed all in white.

The only thing not white was the black rimmed sunglasses and her simple silver cross.

She was flanked by her two shadow men, Saul and Jeremiah, blending into invisibility in the early morning light. The worshipers went silent as they passed her. Most of them gave her a little almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgment as they filed into the crowded Church.

The Church Bells rang out loud and clear. Latecomers hastened to avoid being late.

Marie walked slowly to the first side row. The family seated there quietly moved further back and gave up the entire row to Marie, her two shadow men, Saul and Jeremiah, and three of her favorite hand maidens.

The girls were virgins, sixteen to eighteen years old, dressed all in white, exactly like Marie Ma Cher. They also wore similar crosses on their chests. They looked down demurely in keeping with their presence in the Catholic Lord's house. They sat in muted elegance, a testament to their teacher, Marie Ma Cher.

Marie always selected her girls from the hidden back Bayous. She knew they would look "other worldly" to the simple St. Bernard parishioners.

The Church of St. Bernard was resplendent in Stained Glass and Marble floors. The silently revered statues of several Saints were scattered in various alcoves throughout the Church. One of Marie's favorite statues, the one of St. Theresa of Avila stood watch over her special corner. Her corner was located just beyond the confessionals (now called reconciliation booths for some unexplained reason) right where rays of light shone through the stained glass windows and reflected off the marble floor.

Marie sat patiently, her eyes hidden behind her dark sunglasses. No one could suspect the torment of her tight ass hole being stretched to the limit by an extra wide butt plug inserted for her self-discipline. The one she usually wore to Mass was smaller and much less stressful. She took the opportunity to offer up her suffering to the Catholic Lord to redeem her for her many sins in her human form. She also knew the butt plug was necessary to keep her tiny pucker hole well trained and ready to milk her ordained male crue members for their creamy juices during special ritual ceremonies. Her mentor teacher, Le Grande Pere Anton, constantly stressed to her that her pussy must remain forever closed to retain her Voodoo powers. Once she lost that, she would be defenseless against the evil ones.