Pulp Erotica


The firelight made shadows dance on the stone wall over her throne. The gilded back and arms gleamed. Shamzara the voodoo queen sat waiting for him, dark hair wild and flowing, dark nipples showing thru her flimsy gown.

"Welcome to my court, Mark Hemingway," she said in a low tone. Pale, soulless zombies lay at her feet, men and girls, nearly naked, kissing and licking at her toes and ankles.

"Your unholy scheme is over, Shamzara. It's only a matter of time now." The big zombie behind him jabbed him in the ribs with his stick. Hemingway held his head high, despite the tight bonds.

The voodoo queen smiled venomously. "Your foolish plan to ruin me has already failed, Mark Hemingway. I have the chief of police in the palm of my hand." A figure stepped out from behind her throne, carrying a long, straight dagger of gleaming steel.

"You bastard!" Hemingway spat. But the chief only cracked a grim smile.

Shamzara rose; her flowing gown clung to her womanly curves, shimmered in the firelight, and stirred the smoke. "Now you will taste the blood of a voodoo sacrifice and become my slave!"

To Hemingway's horror, a girl was brought out from a hut toward the circle of fire—a beautiful young girl with the flowing black hair and almond eyes.

"Malia! No!"

"Ha ha ha ha ha!" the voodoo queen cackled. "Ha ha ha! She is mine now, Mark Hemingway, and soon you shall be too!"

"Mark!" the girl squealed desperately. But he could see already that her eyes were dull and her limbs were heavy. Her breasts shook under her thin, torn nightgown as she wept. Her body was not bound, but her will was lost to the voodoo queen.

"First," said Shamzara, "let me demonstrate the strength of my power. Malia! Come to me."

She sat down again and spread her long, brown legs. Malia automatically kneeled before her, whimpered, but obedient. "Lick me, little one."

"No!" Hemingway cried, but the zombies holding him back jabbed him, punched him into submission, and brought him to his knees. Malia looked back over her shoulder with pleading eyes, desperate for some way out, but enslaved to fulfill her queen's demand. She kneeled between Shamzara's thighs, gazed on the dark, moist folds of her sex, and licked her lips.

"Watch closely, Mark Hemingway. Soon you'll be on your knees before me too." Then she smiled down on her little slave. "Let your tongue taste my sex. Pleasure me until I come in your mouth."


reprinted with permission

Pulp Erotica



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