The Art of Women By Jerome Brooke

Dear Uncle Charles. Thank you for your sage advice. The Countess is well please with my assistance with her correspondence. She is most devout, and takes great interest in the welfare of the slaves on her plantation. Your nephew, Lucian.

 

May 10, 1736.

 

“Welcome, Madame and young sir,” said the witch. “Enter, and sit here on the bench.”

The Countess DeCharente smiled, and took my arm. We sat down, while the black woman took a bottle from a table. “This is my clerk, Lucian. I have told him you have great power – and that people come to you to secure good luck.”

I had been asked by the countess to escort her to the hut of the witch, Helene. We had driven to the coast in her buggy, and arrived late morning. The witch returned with a bottle, and presented it to the Countess. To my surprise, the lady took a drink from the bottle – then gave it to me. “Try it, Lucian.” The wine had a sweet taste. I returned the bottle to Helene.

To my surprise, the witch pulled her shift over her head, to reveal her plump form.  “Do you like black women, pretty one?” the witch asked, lifting her pendulous breasts with her hands. The Countess placed her hand on my leg, with a smile. The witch had light skin, and must have been the product of miscegenation. She was a woman of years, with white hair.

“Call upon your saints to give us youth, good fortune, and luck in love,” the Countess asked, in a soft voice. The witch lit a candle on the table, and raised her arms high.  She began to chant in a strange dialect, perhaps some African tongue. As she continued her prayer, I began to feel very sleepy. The Countess began to unbutton my shirt.  She took my arm, and raised me to my feet.

As the witch continued her chant, I saw a figure emerge from a door in the rear of the room.  She was a tall black woman, also nude. Her skin was very dark, and her hair short. She came to me, and knelt at my feet. She unlaced my trousers, pulling them down. She boldly reached inside my under cloth, and grasped my manhood.

The tall woman began to practice the secret art of women, as the Countess knelt at her side. The two women took turns, ministering to me. They were soon joined by Helene in the practice of these unnatural acts. After a time, the witch rose, and took my arm.  She led me to a cot in one corner of her room. The three women stripped me of my garments, and pressed me back onto the cot.

The woman with short hair climbed atop me, slipping forward and covering my face.  After she had pleasure, the witch followed her lead. The Countess, in turn, slipped off her pantaloons, and raised her silk dress. She then followed the other two women in their perversity.

The witch then made me ready with her tongue, as her sister mounted me once more. The tall woman used her long fingers to guide me inside her womanhood. Each of the other two women followed her, in turn. After the women tired of this adventure, the tall woman knelt at my side. She used the arts of women to obtain what she desired.

The witch handed her sister a silken cloth, allowing her to spit into it. The witch took the cloth, and placed it in a leather bag.  She placed the bag on the table, near the candle.

“You have found favor with the Lady of Darkness, Lucian. She favors men with green eyes. If you serve her well, great wealth will be ours!” the countess whispered in my ear. “We must return each month, when the moon is new.”

I drew upon my clothes, as my head began to clear. As we went to the door, the two dark women shameless embraced me. I bowed, and stumbled out the door. “You are most fortunate, Lucian!” said the Countess. “You now have a powerful patroness!”

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