Voodoo Village

Voodoo Village

{This story includes exhibitionism, incest, interracial and Dom. Read at your discretion.}

That was decadent fun! I better write my notes before they fade from memory.

My wife, Ann, got a high paying assignment for a syndicated column to interview the King of the Mercenaires Épée Meilleurs, often just called MEM. He led a tribe of primal warriors who put their faith in the Épée Mercenaires, a specific type of battle épée, sword. Four previous reporters never filed their stories and vanished without a trace. They were all dark skinned, like the MEM, so my white family is a new approach for the journal. The editors warned that she had to assimilate into the tribe by completing certain primitive rituals and agreeing to anything the king asked. She foolishly agreed.

Sensing high danger, I chose to go with Ann as an extra eye and to protect her. My twenty-year-old son begged to come along for the periphery Voodoo experience. Since we couldn’t talk him out of coming, we planned extending the trip into a family vacation as well.

The resort hotel was just three stars, but clean and adequate. It included an adults-only pool where women wore scanty bikinis, usually topless, and full nudity was ignored. My shy wife brought a blue, micro bikini with a thong, but was afraid to wear it with our son around. He insisted he was an adult and would be in that pool with or without us.

Ann had to shave her pubes down to a small blond patch or let her curlies overflow the top, as was a Japanese fashion trend. I enjoyed watching her shave. She put on a full wrap cover-up to hide her beautiful, bare cheeks, but there was no hiding her bountiful boobs in the tiny, deep scoop, top. The narrow cups left nearly half her sumptuous tits on display. Our son, Dean, and I tried to restrict our drooling, but our Speedos left little to imagine. We followed Ann to the pool and watched the attempted restraints as her boobs rose and threatened to escape with every step. Too busy flitting between mounding boobs and ass crack shadow, we didn’t realize our religion was showing with our bulging suits.

At the pool, Dean and I immediately jumped into the water to ‘cool down’ as Ann carefully unwrapped, then quickly sat on a lounger. Among the twenty women there, every one of them was topless, except for Ann. Some were tiny, some droopy, yet all were interesting. “Are you going to join the topless parade, Ann?” She looked around at all the bare tits, then at Dean.

“Perhaps later, dear. When we have more privacy.” She nodded to the two strangers approaching, and adjusted her floppy hat.

“Hi. This must be your first day. Our wives also resisted going topless for nearly an hour. They’re standing there drinking and showing off their tits. Looks like your wife has a great pair we can’t wait to see. Later.” Despite the cold water, my dick immediately swelled as I admired the beauty of the four tits gently swaying above us. The husbands got out of the pool near Ann. They were both naked. Ann’s eyes followed their stiffening, rocking rods as they looked down into her top. When they reached their wives, both men kissed both wives deeply and rolled their nipples. I heard Dean groan. One of them pushed a wife’s bottom over her pumpkin-shaped ass and groped it. I sighed. She was slow to cover up.

With most of the men naked, Dean and I didn’t feel the need to hide our bulges when we climbed onto our loungers. Ann said nothing, but I noticed her slyly rubbing her glass against her barely hidden mound. After an hour of staring at the sights, we left. Ann’s top never came off. “Maybe tomorrow,” she apologized. When Ann removed the cover-up in our room, the thong’s string had disappeared deep into her cheeks. I’m sure Dean would have soiled his Speedo — I nearly did as I imagined those naked men staring at her bared ass.

The MEM king pushed Ann’s interview up a day, so we didn’t get back to the pool. We met our guide, Enu, in the outskirts of N’Orleans and he gave us insights on how to behave and said to dress simply. He explained that this fringe group had splintered from pure Voodoo and formed new customs; rumors of those customs are what Ann’s boss wanted confirmed or busted. He arranged for us to be part of a ceremony followed by a one hour interview with the King of the affiliated islands nation.

We changed into matching Khaki shirts and shorts. As if her shorts weren’t short enough, Ann cut them off to what some might say was indecent and barely longer than a bikini. Since our guide said villagers wore minimal clothes, and some wore none, Ann wanted to blend in, especially after the naked show at the pool. At best, her shorts exposed nearly half her cheeks and the groin-level trim with wide legging exposed much of her G-string. Despite yesterday’s show, my son’s reaction to seeing his mom’s long, sexy legs, bared cheeks, and tiny panties was much as mine. Our silk boxers did little to hide a sudden swelling.

The heat and humidity were oppressive and our shirts were quickly soaked. Dean and I opened them and flapped them for a cooling breeze. Though Ann wasn’t comfortable going that far, she removed her bra, fully unbuttoned her shirt and loosely tied it under her D-cups. As she moved, one nipple kept coming out. It stiffened beautifully when she caught Dean, me, and Enu staring at it. She blushed as she challenged, “Haven’t you boys seen tits before? I hear we’ll see many more where we’re going.”

Enu offered, “You won’t see any other beautiful white women with waist-long blonde hair. You will be a curiosity and must be prepared for stares and some touching.” Not used to so much exposure or compliments, Ann blushed again as she put her hair in a pony tail.

The rough boat ride to the King’s island took thirty minutes into the bayou and had Ann tightening the shirt knot and exposing a rebounding tit several times. Enu dropped us off and reminded us that he would be back for us late after noon the next day. An envoy from the King and several topless women met us at the shore and lead us into the village. Along the way, the envoy tattooed a beat on his small drum and the women whispered and pointed at us. Most of them stroked our arms and legs or Ann’s exposed cheeks and soft hair. We all accepted the contact as a tribal norm.

When we arrived at the King’s cottage, two other drummers beat a faster pace as we met the King and struggled with his Cajun English/Acadian French words. He explained that he rules over mixed peoples and cultures and they jointly adopted La.Voodoo. As we spoke, he kept casually pulling Ann’s top open, exposing both tits before she could re-tie her shirt. He felt her face, neck, chest, tits and ass under her tiny shorts and interrupted our interview several times with compliments on the softness of her skin and hair. She became less resistant and let King do as he pleased with her tits and ass. Dean and I were at a loss about how to deal with him. She wrote of his fascination with white skin and the sharp contrast with his large, ebony hand.

Interview over, the king invited us to a campfire-like dinner of jambalaya, magic mushrooms, and fresh kill. The king sat between his wife and mine, all cross legged. Naked women escorted Dean and me several seats away where we, and most of the circle, had a clear view up Ann’s tiny cutoffs and the queens dark, hairy pussy under her loin cloth. All villagers wore a 10×10″ loincloth which hung from a cincture. Most of the men slid them behind them to sit on so their varied sized and aroused cocks lay exposed. Ann assessed every one of them. Why were her lips twitching?

Several men and women seemed to point at and discuss her tiny G-string and her one visible, shaved labium. Dean’s shorts tented and I tried to signal her that her pussy was half exposed. That seemed to be the plan as the king kept rubbing and holding a leg down and open. That rocking was also loosening her shirt knot. I began to wonder if she were deliberately ignoring me and beginning to enjoy flashing us. When her eyes focused on Dean’s swelling and her mouth crinkled into a smile, I knew she knew.

Ann began thrusting her chest out and ignored the slipping shirt knot. Soon enough, the knot fell open and she ignored that too and kept chatting with the king with her beautiful tits swinging free for him. As lovers in private might do, he casually pinched her nipples as they spoke. Her deep inhales left no doubt she enjoyed the intimate touches and knew her sweet tits were on display.

When she put her plate down, his topless wife rose, exposing her pink in her gaping pussy, and removed Ann’s shirt. Dean and I both gasped, stressed our shorts and watched his mom, my wife, stretch her arms to make her wonderful tits swing for everyone to enjoy. The men around the fire applauded gently; the king stroked her tits, rolled her pink nipples or rubbed her upper thigh until he was under her shorts and stroking her pussy. She pushed his hand away, but he invited everyone to come feel her tits and his wife’s to compare them.

Ann leaned back on her hands with a broad smile. “When in Rome . . .” The king pulled, twisted and pinched her soft nipples until they stood up tall and hard. He smiled his approval at how stiff and dense they were, then invited every man there to do the same with each nipple. They all did.

Her chest flushed, her eyes glazed over and her jaw locked as each dark hand pinched harder. I knew that was sending jolts directly to her clit. As her breathing deepened into gasps, I knew she was about to cum publically and in front of her son who was subtly rubbing his cock. Some of the men reached into her shorts’ legs and rubbed her exposed, damp lip. When the last man walked away smiling, the king beckoned me and Dean to come feel my wife. We gently shook our heads no. He lifted a tit and leaned in to suck it, but Ann denied him.

The women all clustered around her and felt her tits too. As they lifted them then pinched a nipple hard, she whimpered through clenched teeth, squeezed her eyes shut, shuddered, and came for us. Her white G-string quickly grew a dark spot as her legs trembled. Her mouth dropped and she sighed deep relief as her legs and tits continued to jerk for another moment. When her sightless eyes could see again, she looked around in shock. She saw her son gasping as he rubbed himself, and leapt up and ran to our cottage to more applause.

When Dean and I rose to follow, four of the women smiled at us as they rubbed our engorged cocks. Dean grabbed her shirt. We paused for just a few seconds to enjoy the wonderful, illicit sensations then followed Ann. We found her pacing inside, still topless. Eyes brimming, she pulled us both into a family hug. Dean started to pull away, but she pulled him closer. “It’s OK, honey. I saw you refuse to come to me. You can feel them now. Everyone else has. Pinch my nipples, both of you. Pinch hard. Dean, you may suck on them as you last did sixteen years ago. Make me cum for you, my family.” We did, just by biting her begging nipples. She flushed and shook again as I rubbed her clit next to our son.

When she calmed down some, still breathing hard, she kissed Dean full on the mouth. Not a motherly kiss, but a full, passionate, lover’s kiss with a little tongue. Blame the shrooms. Then she turned to me and wrestled my tongue while holding Dean against us by his waistband. After this closeup with his horny mother, she squeezed his cock inside his shorts. “I saw your reactions to losing my shirt, looking up my shorts and watching all those people fondle me and make me cum. We may all need to get naked tomorrow and I’ll get one or more women to service you as I can’t.” Dean’s eyes lit up in thanks.

When she grabbed and stroked my cock, Dean asked if he should take a walk for a while. Ann said, “No. Not with all those horny women outside. Besides, it will be pitch black in here when we blow out this candle. You on your blanket can do as you like and so will we. Grab a tissue.” I blew out the candle and stripped Ann in the dim moonlight. Her pussy was soaked and dripping delicious nectar. As my eyes adjusted, I saw Dean slip out of his shorts, pull down his boxers and make his cock bounce before he began strangling it. Ann giggled as she watched her son maul his surprisingly thick cock.

Ann slid my shorts and boxers off then hopped onto my hips. My cock slid easily into her steaming cauldron. Neither of us suppressed our moans despite Dean’s watching and listening to us. Her shaking on my cock made it surge and fill her pussy with shot after shot. Minutes later, Ann’s next orgasm was more vocal and Dean’s outcry met hers as he released his tensions. We lay on our blanket, no more than two feet from Dean, and clearly saw the veins in his cock. If we could see his, he could see mine. In minutes, mine rose once more and Ann whispered, “Again? Wow.” As our son watched, I filled his mom with more of my cream.

When I woke minutes later, I put on my boxers. Ann had already put on her damp G-string and one of my T shirts. Some hours later, someone shook me awake and pulled me outside into the bright sunshine. Near a raging fire, two naked people each held Ann and Dean’s arms down. One of them had a stiff, shiny cock on Ann’s thigh. Everyone from earlier was there plus several strangers from the next island. Two more naked people came and held my arms down.

The King, in his feathers and paint, danced around us to the ominous beat of village drums. When he moved close to Ann, he said, “You have pleased and displeased me last night. We have a village custom for new people. On your own, you have exceeded what is expected in our test. You passed that test by baring your tits and letting everyone fondle them. But you didn’t allow any of us to suck them, finger or fuck you, so it is time to fully induct you into our village. Once that is done, you are welcome to join us as our white villagers with all privileges I give my people, or you may leave later today as you planned. The four people your boss last sent to interview me are now holding down your son and husband.”

I recognized all four of them, even naked. Ann did too, though her wide eyes still showed fear. They smiled and nodded assurances. The king pulled a knife from a pouch and held it to Ann’s face, then tits. “You see the three men practicing with their Mercenaires Épées? They are slicing through vines on their mother’s chests. Five layers of leaves give some protection. The men become warriors when they cleanly slice ten vines without cutting any leaves. They become Mercenaires Épée Meilleurs, the best warriors, when they can slice clothing off mothers or others without drawing blood. You three visitors are their final exam today.”

One woman hold Ann back leaned in and whispered, “I’ve always wanted to do this to the office snob.” She bit Ann’s earlobe as she harshly spread then slipped two fingers deep into Ann’s wet pussy. After seconds of stirring, Ann moaned. The woman pulled out her fingers and made Ann watch as she swirled and sucked her juices off them. Still not satisfied, I saw her finger herself then force her sticky fingers into Ann’s mouth. That could have been a loving act, but it obviously wasn’t.

The first candidate approached Ann as he swished his blade. He focused on her, blade straight up, then blurred his sword three times. Her eyes popped wide open, her mouth trembling, her arms still restrained, she awaited a bloody swish. The first slashed my shirt from the collar to the end of the left armhole; the second swish sliced through her right arm hole. If there were any doubt about how sharp the blade was, that was silenced when his third swish sliced from her collar down the center to the shirt’s hem and the shirt fell open then past her waist to the ground.

My vanished T-shirt left her chaotic tits exposed to all again as she lurched and gasped. Rosy nipples hardened again and the king smiled as he pinched them. He lifted the shirt and examined it for any drops of blood, then closely stared at her chest. Not finding any, he threw my shirt into the fire leaving Ann in nothing but her tiny G-string. He leaned in and sucked her nipples before biting them. “No longer denied,” he laughed.

“You also denied me the sight and touch of your white lips and pink pussy.” Two more naked men with long, soft dicks came and held her legs down and apart. She squirmed and fought knowing what was coming next. The restrainers palmed her bare ass and pushed it forward. Her mound pushed against her tiny G-string triangle as her swollen labia tried to swallow it. Her pubes overflowed her panties. The candidate focused and slashed one side, then, as he spun, he slashed the other. Nothing happened for seconds; the village stayed silent. The G-string gently fell away on both sides until her puffy lips and ass crack stopped it from falling off. The candidate reached out with his sword, tangled the strings in it and tugged the last of her clothes away. King bent and closely examined her pussy and panties. He ran thick fingers through her small, triangular patch of blond hair, then shifted her labia, but there was no blood. He tossed the panties into the fire as a sign of success. The village cheered and roared. Ann’s moist pussy glistened in the hot summer sun. Helpers pulled her legs apart and her swollen clit escaped and demanded attention. Ann moaned and squeezed her legs to squeeze her clit.

Dean’s thick cock popped out of his boxers and stood stiffly straight. The other two candidates approached us. One focused on Dean for several seconds. Swish-swish. His boxers slowly separated along his upper thighs. His cock poking through the opening held them up. His eyes and mine swelled at the thought that the next cut would be down to his cock. Instead, King signaled the women holding us and they pulled his shredded boxers off. Though his junk didn’t need their help, they pulled his scrotum and lifted his stiff cock. Ann and I stared at our son’s impressive cock as they gently jerked me. This was the first time Ann and I saw his youthful cock in strong light and the first time he saw mine. Queen examined my boy’s cock for blood. Finding none, she tossed his cut boxers into the fire and the village roared.

Relief was brief as the last candidate, a nude female, focused on me. Panic made me imagine my bloody cock at my feet. No stupid bet or reward would ever prompt me to bet against my cock, yet here I was about to risk it for no reward. Swish-swish-swish. Both sides and the cock vent-to-waist fell away and to the ground. Queen closely examined me, lifted and pulled my terrified cock before licking it as she looked for blood. Finding none, she tossed my boxers into the fire. The crowd roared to celebrate the third Mercenaires Épée Meilleurs promotions.

Queen stroked my cock as she sucked it back to fullness. Another woman, her maiden, did the same to Dean as I noticed the King finally had his fingers in my wife and stroked her to multiple orgasms. As she began to drip, he lapped her wet pussy and spread her labia to drink more from her. Licking her clit brought her to another orgasm — surely a record for her. The others pulled and sucked Dean’s stiff cock until he came in their mouths and directed the balance toward the fire.

As Ann and I watched our son cum, Queen sucked me into her throat and warbled. That immediately made me fill her belly with my cream. She also extracted me and directed some of my cum toward the fire. King nodded and smiled. “Tres bien. Now for the final act of acceptance. Lay the boy on his back on this blanket. Bien, now mama on top, tête à queue, 6 9. Ann, make your son hard again with your hand and mouth. Yes, mama, you will or my biggest chief will fuck his ass as you watch him bleed.”