Adventure Comes to Houston: An Erotic Adventure Book III (Erotic Adventures 3)

by T. S. Hill

  Chapter Sixteen

  Voodoo Island

  The fact that there are mysteries beyond our imagination, or ability to understand them, is not the question. The question is what do we do with them?

  Annette intently watched the horizon as the sky darkened. Then as we rounded a bend in the bayou, she suddenly stood up and peered forward. Bending down low and holding on to the gunwales of the boat, she quickly made her way back to Big Clyde. She said something into his ear, and he immediately slowed the engine. She pointed across the water, and he pointed and spoke back to her. They both nodded their heads as he gently increased the throttle and stood up to view where we were headed. Annette held on to Big Clyde’s arm appearing very anxious.

  When we hit a certain position, which obviously only she recognized, she suddenly and quickly, patted him on the back, and he cut the engine completely. After that, we were drifting forward Annette pointed toward a paddle that was stuck in the ribs of the boat on my side, and I retrieved it. Then she pointed to the paddle on the opposite side and Al retrieved that one. After we drifted a while longer, she pointed to both sides of the boat and then made a paddling pantomime, and pointed at a towering dead cypress tree near the shore. Al and I began paddling in a synchronized fashion, and Annette moved to the bow of the boat. There she turned to Big Clyde and made a upward motion. He raised the motor foot and latched it. A few more yards forward and she was waving at us to cut the paddling. We did and the boat drifted forward again, slowly stalling in the water.

  It seemed that we were sitting still, but soon I realized that we were getting closer to the trees along the bank. Annette leaned forward over the bow, peering intently into the darkness.

  “Fuck!”, she whispered loudly, ducking below the bow point. Tree limbs began brushing down the top edges of the boat, and we all ducked below the gunwales. Within ten to twenty seconds, the limbs were no longer dragging on the boat and its forward speed seemed to have picked up. We were no longer in the dark, but the moon was shining straight down the creek that lay ahead of us. Annette, continued to lean over the forward bow, peering forward. Suddenly she stood straight up and reached over her head, grasping something. At first, I thought it was a ball on a rope. But, as she moved to the stern of the boat with it, and turned around, The moonlight fully illuminated what I realized was a human skull suspended from the tree limbs above, on a rope. She turned to face the waters behind us and pulled hard on the rope. As she did, the bow turned left. Then she released the skull. The boat immediately lurched forward in the current down a narrow side channel, and the darkness enveloped us once again

  Human sounds began filtering through the tangle along the creek banks, and soon there were flickers of light darting between gaps in the undergrowth. Suddenly the creek widened and the moon light broke through again. We could see a large shanty like structure on the left side, with a boat tied up behind it. All of the noises were loud now and it was obvious that a fairly large number of people were gathered in some kind of activity on the other side of the shanty. There appeared to be a large bonfire burning that was lighting up the area. Shouts and sounds of drunken revelry seemed to drift and dart from the gathering. If Old Mose had known what he was talking about, it appeared that Annette, following his directions, had found the place we were looking for.

  Manning the paddles, we eased into the bank, then Annette nimbly jumped ashore with the tether line, and tied us to an overhanging brush limb. She stealthily crept over to the boat tied just below us, and cut its tether, giving it a shove out into the creek current. It slowly drifted away with the current, and Al handed her one of the AR’s as he and I climbed out alongside of her.

  “Let Clyde stay with the boat.”, She whispered.

  “Send him around the left side.”, I whispered back. “That way, if all hell breaks loose, we’ll have a cross fire preset on them.”

  “The plan is to get Sasha out, without all hell breaking loose.”, she whispered back.

  “What are the odds of that happening?”, I whispered. “We need an advantage. A left flank of firepower will give it to us.” She sighed, exasperated, “Okay, send him around the left, but tell him to stay quiet and out of sight. No shooting unless we fire.” I went back to the boat and sent Big Clyde on his way with his instructions. When I rejoined Annette and Al, she started out across the back of the shanty. “I should have my ass kicked!”, she whispered loudly. “We need to stay together! This way!” she whispered brusquely, and led us parallel to the creek bank and the back of the shanty. Once we were maybe twenty yards past the shanty, Annette cut back into the woods toward the fire and opening that we could partially see through the brush. As we drew closer to the clearing and huge bonfire, she stopped, and whispered for us all to get lower.

  We were all but crawling the last ten yards, until we were just behind the brush edge. We could see clearly now into the clearing. The huge bonfire burned in the center. On the opposite side of the clearing from where we were, was a gathering of the motorcycle gang members. There may have been twenty of them, drinking beer, yelling, arguing, and generally behaving like the uncivilized thugs that they were. To the far right of the clearing, tied to a large tree that stood against the thick underbrush, was Sasha, without a stich of clothes. She was kneeling, with her back against the tree.

  Her arms were wrapped backwards and tied around the back of the trunk, as were her ankles. Her head was drooped down, with her chin on her chest, and her breasts and arms were striped with angry red whelps, as were her thighs. It appeared that she had been whipped severely, with either a belt, a whip, or maybe even a cane from the swamp. I could make out a large red hand print on her right cheek, where she had obviously been slapped violently. My blood boiled, and it took all of the control that I could muster, to not open fire into the group of motorcycle animals. I couldn’t get my eyes off of Sasha and the motorcycle creeps. Annette touched my shoulder and then gently turned my head toward the shanty. Sitting in a chair on the porch, was the most unusual human being that I had ever witnessed.

  This had to be Antonique Jubeaulet. I had heard legends, but never believed that she actually existed. At least some of the legend was accurate. She was a strikingly beautiful woman, although she was dressed the most bizarrely that I have ever seen a human being dressed. Her hair had been braided, and those braids piled upon the top of her head, in a hodge-podge manner. Probably forty or so large feathers, of various types and colors, were randomly sticking out of the hair braids. A string of beads were also strewn around between the feathers.

  The light mocha skin of her face, arms and hands was flawlessly smooth and velvety in appearance. Her face almost angelic, with high arching eyebrows, a narrow, pert nose, and curvy, pursed lips that appeared as soft as they were beautiful. Her arms were slender, and her delicate hands possessed long slender fingers, each of which was tipped with beautifully manicured nails, that alternated between black and white.

  She wore a loose fitting, deep purple, sleeveless, tunic style top, which flowed down onto an ankle length gold lame skirt, that was slit on each side all the way up her thighs almost to her waist. The front of her royal purple tunic was sprinkled with a variety of small white bones that had been fastened to the fabric. Around her neck she wore a huge necklace that hung almost to her waist. At the bottom of the necklace, a small alligator skull hung as the pendant. To either side of the gator skull, and all the way back up to her chest level, the necklace was strung with various small animal skulls.

  The dual slits of the long gold lame skirt let the fabric fall between her amazingly long and beautiful legs. The skin of her legs matched the soft mocha skin of her face and arms. Finally, her delicate and dainty feet were finished off, with toenails painted to match her fingernails, in the alternating black and white. She sat in a chair draped with practically every type of animal skin that could be found in the bayous and surrounding forests. Appearing almost regal, her confidence, and poise, radiated from her. She stared out into t
he huge bonfire, and its flames reflected their dance in her eyes, giving her the eerie appearance, of having a fire burning within her eye sockets.

  A short, squatty, dark chocolate skinned girl stood on either side of her, each completely naked from the waist up, and only wearing a simple, knee length wrap skirt, of some nondescript grey cloth. Both were bare legged, and bare footed, and neither wore any jewelry or decoration. Neither of the women were attractive at all. In fact, standing next to Antonique Jubeaulet, they were almost repulsive. Never the less, each was leaning against the fur lined chair with an arm draped across the shoulders of, and their other hand stroking and caressing, Antonique Jubeaulet. I must have become a bit mesmerized by the sight, because Annette, grabbed my jaw and pulled my head around to face her, and motioned me to follow. Then she did Al the same way.

  We crept back to the creek bank, and with Annette leading us, continued to follow it along as it curved around to the left. How she decided we were at the right spot, I don’t know, but Annette abruptly stopped and then turned back up the bank into the woods. Al and I followed, and soon we were slowly crawling up behind the tree to which Sasha was tied. Annette motioned for me to come with her, and she and I crawled up, just behind the tree.

  “Sash, can you hear me?”, I whispered loudly, but there was no response. I reached forward and squeezed her hand and wrist where it was tied.

  “Sash, it’s me, Babe, Tagg!”, I whispered loudly. “Can you hear me?”

  “Yes!”, she whimpered. Then Annette spoke up.

  “Shug! This is Annette!”, she whispered raspily. We’re going to cut your ties loose, but don’t move. When no one is looking, Tagg will snatch you from your left side, and pull you around the tree. We’re going to get you out of here.”

  “Okay!”, was all Sash whimpered back. Annette carefully cut her ties and Sasha held her position, waiting for us to make our move. Annette and I both were peering intently at the motorcycle gang on the opposite side of the bonfire, and then intermittently glancing at Antonique Jubeaulet, and her two servant girls. The reveling bikers seemed to get enamored with a fight that broke out, and their loud shouts of encouragement to the combatants, seemed to catch the attention of Antonique Jubeaulet. Her two attendants’ attention was on her to start with, so the time seemed perfect to me.

  Just at that instant, Annette growled, “Now!” Sasha swung her body to her left and I pulled at her upper arm, dragging her through the thick underbrush, and several feet into woods. I picked her up and started back down the bank toward the creek edge. Al and Annette hung back for a few seconds to see if the move had been immediately noticed. Evidently it wasn’t and they soon caught up to Sasha and me. We hurried along the creek bank back toward our boat, that was tied behind the shanty where Antonique Jubeaulet sat on the porch. The fight crowd seemed to grow louder, and Sasha clung to me even tighter. I sat her over in the boat but she wouldn’t turn loose of me.

  “I’ve got to go find “Big Clyde.”, I said.

  “I’ll go find him.”, Al said. “You three be ready to move out.” And, he disappeared up the creek bank. I climbed into the boat with Sasha, then Annette positioned the boat to launch upon their return. In only a few minutes, Al was back.

  “They’ve got him, and they know Sasha’s gone.”, he blurted.

  “Fuck! I knew we should have stayed together.”, Annette growled.

  “I’m sorry.”, I told her.

  “No. It was a good idea to cover with a crossfire.”, she replied. “It just didn’t work, because it wasn’t needed. It could have been different.”

  “Al can we get close to see what’s happening?”, I asked him in a whisper.

  “Yeah, I found a spot.”, he replied.

  “I’ll stay with Sasha.”, Annette whispered, slipping her arm around her. “Shug, let’s get you the blanket I brought.”, she told her. Sasha released her iron grip on me and hugged to Annette, then I followed Al back up the creek bank. Within a minute, we were crawling to the edge of the brushy undergrowth, and once again peering into the bonfire lit clearing. They gang members had Big Clyde’s arms and they were dragging him to the large tree where Sasha had been tied. As they turned him around and slammed his back against the tree, we could see his face glistening wet. The red streaks down the front of his shirt told me that his face glistened with blood.

  “How the hell did they get him without firing a shot?”, Al whispered

  “I don’t know. How the hell are we gonna get him back?”, I whispered back to him.

  “Not without firing a shot.”, he replied, tugging on my arm, as he turned to leave. My last glance back toward the scene of mayhem, made me almost lose hope. Four of the motorcycle gang members were wrapping Big Clyde to the tree with chains, and I saw a padlock being hooked into the links at his feet. Glancing back toward the shanty porch, I saw that Antonique Jubeaulet had risen from her seat, and was standing on the edge of the porch, with a look of bemusement on her face, watching the Grave Robbers securing Big Clyde to the tree. Her two sycophants still clung to either side of her. As the gang members began tearing Big Clyde’s clothes from his body, I turned, and hurried after Al.

  Back at the boat, Annette asked, “What’s the situation?”

  “They’ve got Clyde chained to the tree where they had Sasha.”, Al piped up. “You and I will go back on this side and lay down distracting fire, taking as many of the sons of bitches out as we can, while Tagg goes back and gets Clyde. When we see that he’s got him, we’ll work our way back here.”

  “It’s not that simple, Al.”, I spoke up. There’s at least one, if not more, padlocks holding that chain around Big Clyde and the tree.”

  “Shush! Both of you!”, Annette piped in. Do you two remember what Old Mose said?”, she asked.

  “What”, we both whispered simultaneously. She grabbed the front of both of our shirts, and pulled us close to her face.

  “Listen carefully.”, she began. “Old Mose said, that this island is ruled by a voodoo witch that calls herself a priestess. He said, ‘It’s a female power in an evil form. When you go in, you’re going to have to be led by a female power in a good form.’ Then he said, ‘Big Clyde would guide us through the bayous and backwaters, to get us to Voodoo Island. But that, this fighting woman that you brought with you, would lead you through the island, to get what you’re after. Then, she’ll get you back out of there. Then, Big Clyde will get you back to Old Mose’s place again.’ Remember that?”

  “Well yeah, but…”, Al began, then I cut him off.

  “No. Listen Al.”, I spoke up. “She’s right. There’s evidently powers at play here that we don’t understand. Big Clyde did get us here, and Annette did lead us in, to the exact spot. Annette has to lead this, and we have to have Big Clyde to get back.”

  “What do you want us to do, Annette?”, Al asked.

  “Just a little different version of what you said.”, she replied, reaching into her pinned up hair. “You and Tagg go lay down fire, to distract, and I suggest, take out, the motorcycle gang. While I,”, she paused to place a bobby pin between her lips, and reach back into her hair again. “pick the locks and free Big Clyde.”, she finished, placing a second pin with the first one in the corner of her mouth. “Buy then, I’ll know your position from the heavy gunfire, and I can lay down a little of my own to give you guys a chance to head back here. The only thing is, I need to move this boat down to where I’m going into the woods. If any of them follow me down to the creek bank, we don’t want to have to float right past them. So, you guys will need to really hustle, once I start firing. That will be your signal that I have Big Clyde and you’re ready to go. Any questions?”

  “Can you pick those locks, Annette?”, Al asked.

  “The kind of urban combat training I had was a little different than most. Yes, I can pick the fucking locks!”, she adamantly stated. “They only shoot locks off in the movies.” She quickly checked on Sasha, then turned back to us. “For fucks sake! What are you w
aiting for? Move!”, she whispered impatiently. Adding to the noise from the motorcycle gang, loud booming drums started sounding off with a strange rhythmic beat.

  “What the hell is that?”, Al asked.

  “What it sounds like I suppose, drums.”, I responded, following him back up the creek bank, as Annette began walking our boat down the edge of the bank. Not far out to the side of the shanty, Al led me into a thicket with very little undergrowth, and within a minute, we were peeping through the brush surrounding the clearing. Antonique Jubeaulet’s two servant girls were out in the clearing, just off of the porch of the shanty, each banging at a large drum. Their eyes were locked on Antonique Jubeaulet, as they watched her begin a writhing dance around the bonfire.

  Across the open area, the motorcycle gang were starting to take notice of her dancing also, and began milling back to their party area, while watching her, leaving Big Clyde alone, chained to the tree. His face was still bloodied, and now his clothes were completely gone.

  “I see why he’s called Big Clyde, now.”, Al whispered in my ear. What’s that black witch doing?”, he asked.

  “Dancing.”, I whispered back to him.

  “Is that some kind of spell casting?”, he whispered back to me.

  “I don’t know!”, I whispered back. “I’m not a voodoo person. The drumbeat changed and Antonique Jubeaulet’s dance changed with it, incorporating more sensual and seductive moves. As she moved to the opposite side of the fire, near Big Clyde, it became apparent that her dance was for him, and she undulated and swirled her way gradually toward him, until she was only inches away from him. As she arrived directly in front of him, swaying and swirling and grasping at herself, as though she were in the throes of sexual ecstasy, she shifted her skirt waist a quarter turn, so that the dramatic slits, aligned front to back, instead of side to side. Spreading her legs and bending her knees, she thrust her hips forward and swept the folds of the skirt to the sides and behind her shapely legs.