White Magic Woman Read online

  WHITE MAGIC WOMAN

  by Ju Ephraime

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  ENVISION Business & Computer School Publishing

  An Imprint of ENVISION Business & Computer School, LLC

  23 Kimberly Avenue

  West Haven, CT 06516

  Copyright 2012 by Julia E. Antoine

  ISBN: 13: 9780983602934

  www.juliaeantoine.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For information address inquiries to, ENVISION Business & Computer School, 23 Kimberly Avenue, West Haven, CT 06516.

  Printed in the U.S.A.

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9836029-3-4

  EAN-10: 098360293X

  LCC: 2012955634

  If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publishers, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  INTRODUCTION

  When it had first begun, he’d thought he was imagining the entire thing, but as it went on, he’d decided it was simply a fantasy, which would cease once he returned home. But apparently the woman had somehow accompanied him all the way back home to New South Wales. She had essentially ruined his relationship with his wife because, by the time she left him in the predawn hours, he could not maintain an erection even if his life depended on it. But somehow, he was raring to go again when she made her appearance each night at midnight.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Thank you so much to my friends in St. Lucia and my imaginary friends in New South Wales. Without them this book would not have been possible. They gave me the idea for the book, and as usual, I appreciate it. To my daughter, who took the time from her busy school schedule to do the first edits on this book, although she was not comfortable with the subject matter. A special thank you goes out to all those who helped me in this second paranormal novel, especially Devin, who proved to be a tremendous help. And finally thanks to all those who take the time to read my books. Heartfelt thanks to you all.

  Ju

  Prologue

  It really isn’t fair why I can’t sleep with my wife, like any normal husband,” Todd Montgomery grumbled to himself. It wasn’t that he did not love his wife; he did. He loved Simonia to death, but he could not bring himself to engage in sexual activities with her.

  It had not always been that way. He and Simonia had had a very active and fulfilling sex life until three months ago. Ever since then, he could not even get an erection the few times he’d attempted to perform his husbandly duty. It was as if he was under a spell of the woman who visited his bed every night for the past three months.

  It started one night in the bungalow he rented on the island of St. Lucia, where he had been stationed for the past two years. He was researching a strain of malaria that had surfaced on the island, which was proving particularly resistant to treatment. As part of his job with the Malaria Research and Reference Reagent Resource Center (MR4), it was his responsibility to go to the source of the virus to conduct research. Usually, Simonia would accompany him, but on this trip, because of the highly contagious nature of the virus, he talked her into remaining at home.

  The first time he’d seen the woman, it had not been the first time she had been in his room. The first time was the night he had flown in on the eight-hour long flight. He was exhausted and had thought it was a dream. But the nights following that first night, he knew it was not a dream. He was able to see the woman as she had her way with him, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

  The night following that first night it had happened, it was unbearably hot in the room. Even though his bed was enclosed by the mosquito netting, he still slept under the cool cotton sheet. The previous night, the woman had ridden him repeatedly, each orgasm more powerful than the last. But this night, the pattern had changed. He was awakened by the feel of someone going down on him. He raised himself up to look down at her, and she lifted her head at the same time, looking directly into his eyes. The moonlight and shadow that drifted through the window outlined her breasts as she knelt back on her heels before climbing over him like a cat. Without taking her hands from the bed, she would then use the muscles of her pussy to impale herself on his engorged penis in one fluid move. Just thinking about it gave him an erection. From that night until now, she visited him about the same time every night, midnight. There was no lovemaking, no kissing, no foreplay, but she always woke him the same way–with her mouth on his cock.

  She was always gone in the morning, leaving no trace of her presence, which is why the first time he’d thought the entire thing had been a dream. But after repeated re-occurrences of almost the same thing, even a skeptic like him had to admit that it was developing into a pattern.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Exhausted from the long flight from his home in New South Wales to his job in the West Indies, Todd Montgomery was lying on his bed waiting for sleep to claim him. He’d been too tired to have dinner, so he was both tired and hungry when he felt a movement as if a cool breeze had blown into the room.

  It felt good to him, so he turned towards the window, what he thought was the source of the breeze, at the same time wondering why he’d left it open in the first place. I should get up and close it because the mosquitoes will have a field day with me, he thought to himself. But he was too tired to move, so he remained on his bed under the mosquito net, which every visitor to the island couldn’t sleep without.

  The natives appeared to be immune to the bites. They went around with all of their skin exposed and were none the worse for wear. But if he were to ever attempt to behave in such an irresponsible manner, he would pay for it dearly with hundreds of mosquito bites all over his body.

  He felt the breeze again, and this time he made a move to go to the window, but somehow he couldn't move. He was lying with his eyes wide open, but he could not get himself out of bed. It was as though he was in a dreamlike state yet not quite. He felt fingers working into his hair, and the next thing he was aware of was being caught in an erotic dream where he was straddled by a beautiful woman who moved on him with such unrelenting intensity that he lost control as one orgasm after another gripped his body, each one more powerful than the last. He thought he might die from it.

  The next morning he awoke hungry and exhausted, as if he had not slept a wink. But he’d had an uneventful night, other than this dream that seemed to have gone on and on. He reached down and felt his Charlie, and he was limp, as if he had used it to death. That was indeed a strange experience.

  He was walking into the shower before he realized he was nude. He did not recall removing his shorts; then again he could have if it had gotten too hot in the room, but he couldn’t remember doing so. He had quite a few appointments at work today, and he didn’t have the time to dwell on whether or not he’d gone to bed naked.

  He was late and didn’t have time to prepare breakfast. He would stop at Josephine's for a bite to eat on the way; although he'd promised himself he would stop eating there. It was not that he didn't like the food; on the contrary, he liked it too much.

  Josephine’s was an open-air Caribbean-style bistro and bar. The place was elegant yet casual, with the friendly proprietress making the rounds of the restaurant to make certain all her guests were properly taken care of.
But on his last two visits there, he had experienced a strange feeling while he was being served by the new waitress.

  He couldn't, for the life of him, tell what it was about the woman that rubbed him the wrong way, but he'd almost asked Josephine to get him someone else to wait on him. He was glad to be out of there. He had the same feelings when he’d gone back there two days later. It’d now been two weeks since he last visited the place, so hopefully whatever was bothering him had righted itself. He hoped so anyway. He didn't want to be responsible for anyone losing their job; life was tough enough on the island. But he couldn't stand the new help.

  It was not that she was hard on the eyes. On the contrary, she was too good on the eyes, but for all her beauty, something about her rubbed him the wrong way.

  He walked into the restaurant, and thank God, she was nowhere to be seen. He ordered two fried eggs, which came with two fried bakes, and a cup of hot chocolate. He loved the hot chocolate; it was made with all natural ingredients.

  The islanders harvested the cocoa nuts, and after roasting them, they pounded them using a mortar and pestle until they sweated. Nothing else was added to it, but it kept for days. When they were ready to use it, they cut chunks of it into boiling water and allowed it to boil with a pinch of cinnamon and nutmeg.

  This was served hot with milk on the side or the milk was added to it while it was being prepared. It was out of this world. If he didn't watch himself, he could down several cups in one sitting.

  He was on his second cup when he felt the hair on the back of his neck raise up. He turned around to see what was causing this reaction and ended up looking straight into the deep, fathomless eyes of the new waitress. He couldn't tell the exact color because it was dark with a white and gray ring around the outer edge of the iris; it was scary and fascinating at the same time. Just then the most inexplicable thing happened. As he stared into the strange, fathomless eyes of the new help, he was hit with the most incredible hard-on. The erection was so hard it hurt, as he could feel it pulsing with need. This reaction was perplexing since only a short time earlier he’d woken up for the first time in his life without a hard-on.

  What was going on? He’d never felt so hard in his life. He had to try three times before he was able to tear his eyes away from hers. He was left feeling like a perverted fool as she walked away with a smirk on her face. If he knew anything, he knew this woman was bad news. And he'd do well to stay away from her.

  He'd made it a point since he'd accepted this position from the home office not to mess around with the native women. It was not that they were not good enough for him, on the contrary. He just did not want to be fooling around on his wife. After all, he had only been married for a little over a year, and he was still in the honeymoon phase with his wife. He also didn't want to do as his father before him. He’d done the same line of work and left a brood of children wherever he worked. As far as Todd knew, he had half brothers and sisters all over the globe. Wherever his father was stationed, he had several women with whom he fooled around. He would still be alive today had it not been for his womanizing ways.

  In the last location where he’d been stationed, Dominica, he’d made the sad mistake of taking one of the native Carib-Indian women on the island. After it became know that the woman was pregnant with his child, he was found dead in his room that very night by his maid. His head and genitals were both severed. It took a lot of negotiation on the part of the government to get his body returned home. Todd’s mother took the news so hard that she suffered a nervous breakdown from which she never recovered. She died less than one year later. That had been nine years ago, and he had been then a young man of nineteen just about to turn twenty.

  He missed his father something terrible, but he was mature enough to realize that his father had brought the entire situation on himself. He knew that messing around with the women who weren’t his wife, while their husbands stood by powerless, was not a wise decision. Usually, the husbands were too scared to take on a foreigner like his father who was well connected to the government. He believed that was what had protected his father before, but the indigenous people of Dominica were a law unto themselves, and some of the warring ways of the ancestors from bygone days still existed today. It was believed that Dominica had the only tribe of Carib Indians left in the Caribbean.

  Known as the Kalinago people, these natives lived on a 3,700-acre reservation, where they were ruled by an elected chief. The chief strongly discouraged any Carib from taking a mate outside the tribe. Like everything else, the rule was much more lenient for the men but very rigid for the women. There was terrible retribution to both the woman, who was ostracized, and the male in question, who in this instance was his father, savagely killed while he slept. Though, knowing his father, it could’ve been the danger inherent in the relationship that attracted him.

  Given this history, when Todd accepted the position as researcher in St. Lucia, he’d promised himself that at no time would he violate any of the women on the island. In the beginning it had been difficult because some of the women made it known that they were available, but after repeatedly refusing to take them up on their offers, he had been pretty much left alone.

  Before this perplexing experience, he’d been proud of the fact that, in the two years as on-call researcher for the island, he hadn’t succumbed once. He hadn’t even allowed himself to be attracted to any of the women, no matter how attractive or beautiful they appeared to be. So he knew that what was happening to him in bed at nights was not of his own doing, or was it?

  CHAPTER TWO

  The vivid dreams of being visited by a female beauty who would pleasure him, and then ride him hard until he was completely spent, continued on for days until his body just couldn’t take it anymore. He had to get to the bottom of this. He decided to talk to two of the local island men about his experience, looking for some sort of explanation, and they told him he was being visited by a White Magic Woman.

  According to the islanders, there were two kinds of magic on the island—white magic and black magic. Both kinds had their foundations in sexual activities. It was called Black Magic (Magie Noir) when it was a man visiting a woman he was lusting after during the day but could not have. Such men used the power of the dark arts of sorcery to satisfy their own wanton and selfish desires.

  According to the story, when the new moon came around, at the stroke of midnight, the sorcerer performed an ancient ritual that allowed him to leave his body in the form of an evil spirit. Unseen and unheard by anyone, he made his way to the door of the woman’s house. He knocked on the door because he had to be allowed entry through the door by an occupant of the house. When the husband of the woman in question opened the door, the evil spirit blew a magic dust that he carried with him into the face of the unsuspecting husband. This caused the husband to fall into a deep coma-like sleep after going to bed.

  The evil spirit then bewitched the woman with a spell and had sex with her all night. This was often carried out while the husband slept next to the wife, dead to the world. Before the sun rose, the evil spirit took leave of the house and returned back to the home of the sorcerer, where the shell of the body awaited its return.

  The following morning when the couple awakened, neither remembered anything of the night before. The woman, however, would feel drawn, ill-at-ease, and troubled by a deep scratch on her body, which would typically itch and burn. This was the mark of the sorcerer.

  In his case, he was told he was being visited by the female version of this sorcerer, called White Magic, (Magie Blanc). The story had it that the White Magic Woman was even more forceful and passionate than her male counterpart. It usually began when a female sorceress became obsessed with desire for an attractive young man. If the young man rejected her advances, then she waited patiently for the cycle of the new moon to begin her visits to the unsuspecting male.

  In the case of a White Magic Woman, the female took sustenance from the male and became stronger and stronger
with each visit to her victim. The same physical symptoms like those experienced by the women who were visited by Black Magic Men were visible on the men after each visit. But the other significant difference was that the man in question couldn’t have an erection for any other female while he was being visited by the sorceress. From what the island men had heard, the sex was out of this world, so they encouraged him to just grin and bear it.

  What they neglected to tell him was that, once started, it was very difficult to stop without the use of magic. This required repeated visits to an Obeah woman, the only one able to stop the sorceress.

  As he thought about which of his acquaintances could be a sorceress, his mind went back to the day his body reacted almost violently to the new waitress at Josephine’s. He had to stop in there to ask Josephine about her when she was not present. If she were the one visiting him at nights, he didn’t want her to know that he was on to her.

  He was so strung out he was no good at work. His assistant, Sharon, had to ask him the same question three times before he finally comprehended her. After that happened for the fourth time, he knew he wouldn’t be good for much until he was able to get some information on Josephine’s new help. As the thought came to him, he put away the research he was attempting to work on and called Sharon into his office.

  “I have to leave now, Sharon. I’ll try to be back as soon as possible,” he told her.

  “Are you going into town, Mr. Montgomery?”

  He’d given up trying to get her to call him by his first name. She’d insisted on the formality. So, he’d stopped correcting her every time she addressed him. He didn’t tell her being addressed as Mr. Montgomery made him feel old, but he guessed to her he was old. After all, she was only nineteen, although she was a very mature nineteen. She was a prodigy with an A-level degree in biomedicine. She was smart as a whip, so he didn’t have to tell her the same thing twice. Truth be told, she was his smartest assistant; her brain was able to process information, particularly numbers, at a rapid pace. He was in awe of her, but he tried not to let her know.