The Voodoo Mistress

I imagine some of you, more fortunate, ladies must know what it's like to have good pussy. The kind with a little grip to it,  that could squeeze the nut up out of a dick so fast, it'll leave a nigga exhausted and embarrassed. Bitches are born with good pussy and find out years down the line, way before they even start having sex, that the pussy is their most sacred jewel. Typically girls are warned by their mothers and grandmothers around puberty age; cause the OG's already know what it's hitting for. Because if you didn’t know,  GOOD PUSSY DOES IN FACT, RUN IN THE FAMILY! You better believe a bitch with good pussy comes from a long line of women who had the same problem and survived more than a few tender dick niggas! Yes, having good pussy might get you cussed out, and that's a headache, but it's nothing that you can't handle.

Then there's an elite group of women with GREAT pussy; a bitch always knows when she's got great pussy! Her whole essences is exuberant; everything from her style down to the way she speaks; even her walk is different. This the type of pussy that can make a nigga toes start to curl up as soon as she jumps on top and fills her sweet pulsating walls, taking every inch down to the shaft. She has the confidence of the most beautiful woman in the entire world, which can be humbling for some because, unfortunately,  not every girl with good pussy has been blessed with good looks. Actually, I would guess most of the uglier girls might fall into this category. God had to give them something, right? Just think about that ugly girl you went to high school with, with all the kids and their respective daddies; that should tell you something! Her pussy is Great, probably Great Great! Oh and don't get it confused, niggas don't play about great pussy, she could look like a damn monkey, don't make him no never mind! Great pussy will make a nigga spin the block on a bitch! This type of pussy can get a bitch beat up and trapped with a baby so you gotta be real careful who you giving it too.

It's hard having good pussy, and even harder having great pussy but some of y'all hoes will never know what luxury and pain it is to have what I call, VooDoo pussy. That's the most magical pussy of them all! That pussy is so intoxicating it would make a man do things he never dreamed he'd do. He would be so smitten, it'll have him ready to kill you and anybody else, including himself, over that pussy! Voodoo pussy is so enchanting because whatever's in it can literally make a man go insane! It's like once a penis goes inside of some voodoo pussy, he's' pulled into another dimension and loses all touch with reality. This the kinda pussy that have niggas hallucinating; staying up all night, fighting visions about who's trying to get at their most prized possession.

Bitches with voodoo pussy can be hard to find, but they're always easy to spot because they're constantly surrounded by drama! If you've ever heard your neighbor's baby father banging on her door at 4 in the morning, crying bout how he's going to burn the complex down, then you should stay away from that bitch! Trust and believe, you get a taste of that Voodoo pussy you'll be under her spell next! Voodoo pussy is not the type of pussy that niggas willingly walk away from, hell no, they will die for that shit! It's dangerous and once a nigga is hooked on some Voodoo pussy, it doesn't matter what a bitch do to him, his ass ain't going nowhere! I'm going to tell you a story about my cousin Peaches, a dancer in NJ that most definitely got some Voodoo Pussy! (Remember, it runs in the family)


Peaches, Newark. NJ--I’ve always been an attractive girl. Not to sound cocky, but it has never a problem for me to find or keep a man! My issue, since the time I started dating, has always been getting rid of them! I’m almost 35 years old and I’ve never been dumped by a single boyfriend in all my days. I haven't met a man who could resist all the sexiness in this fun-sized package. I'm a honey roasted caramel complexion; 5'5 petite glass of wine! Even with three children, I still turn heads everywhere that I go. Partially because I wear clothes that support my shapely frame, and show off every curve my mama blessed me with. I've dated every shade of brown, even had a few nights with men of other ethnicities and the same shit always applies. Men take one hit of this good shit and became a chain smoker baby! The only time a nigga ever left me was when he went to jail. Otherwise, I’ve maintained long term relationships all of my adult life, even while working as an exotic entertainer.

I learned early, my pussy is a weapon of power and control, and If used correctly, I could have everything I wanted for me and my children. Through many years of trial and error, it was found that having a good pussy was just the cherry on top. In order to turn a nigga out, I was going to have to touch him in a way he's never been touched, comfort him in a way no other woman has and understand him better than he understood himself. I had a science when it came to seducing a nigga's mind so I could get closer to his wallet, and only ten percent of that was physical, the remaining ninety percent is a combination of mental manipulation and the magic of the universe.


 Dancers like myself, that practice magic, attract money by way of using spells, candles, praying to deities and calling on our inner sexual essence to appeal to men on a deeper, more spiritual level. Many people assume that using sexual energy is equivalent to selling your body for money, but that couldn't be further from the truth. A real hustler, know's how to use her slick lips to make a nigga go in his wallet and pay a few bills, without doing any extra shit. I have a few sugar daddies on the roster, that I've never slept with a day in my life. Why would I? Would you buy the cow, when you can get the milk for free? No, exactly... The same logic applies when it comes to dealing with tricks. I've mastered the art of being really good at pretending like a nigga has a chance to fuck when in reality, he could never be so lucky. I never fuck my customers, I have enough headaches with the men in my real life. 

 Let me tell you about it! 

I was in a relationship for 3 years with Ace before he went to jail. We were on the verge of breaking up when they took his ass but I wasn't the kinda girl to leave a man while he was down. I decided to stick around and help him in whatever way that I could. I kept it real and let him know I was just supporting him as a friend, I emphasized very clearly we were NOT in a relationship! He was reluctant to accept the idea. He had it made up in his mind that our souls were married, from the first time we made love and I put this powerful punani on his ass!  I still had a tremendous amount of love and respect for him because we had been through so much. In a short period of time, he taught me a lot about myself, about magic and the real world; so I was willing to give our relationship another chance once he got out of jail.
 It wasn't actually clear when Ace would be coming home, so my focus wasn't on finding a man, or sex; I had more important shit to worry about! I still had three, big, hungry-ass teenage boys to take care of on my own, so I had to get on my shit! I was going to use this opportunity to run it up and do what I needed to do for me and my kids! Taking care of my kids has always been my main objective but the grind was about to go into overdrive now that I didn't have a nigga in my face to distract me or slow my money up. When you're a stripper, you'll learn its best that your customers think you're single. Since my niggas always following me around to the clubs like a lost puppy, this rouse was always extremely difficult for me to keep up.

I begin doing attraction spells with my magic, trying to draw in the right customers so when I worked in the club,  money would just find me, instead of me chasing after it! Every day I was in the mirror repeating my affirmations and burning my sage. I purchased some anointed "Make it Rain" soap from my homegirl, Tender Montana, and BABYYYY the money just started rolling in! It wasn't a night I went to the club and made anything less than $350. Everything was going according to plan. My money was stacking up, I was about to move my kids into a bigger apartment and I was still able to hold my nigga down in jail. I had all kinds of sugar daddies. My vibe, my energy, and my sexual magic was as pulling every dollar right up out of a customer's wallet, faster than a pickpocketer on the NY subway.

Of course, when you're getting money fast the devil tries to throw you a curveball and that's exactly what happened when I got introduced to Dre, about three months after my nigga got locked up. He was a friend of my little cousin that came over my house one day to smoke and never left. I could tell he was younger than me but I enjoyed his laid back demeanor. It was very mysterious and that made my mind wonder what it might be like to try him out for a night. After months of jailhouse phone sex with Ace, a bitch was ready to feel the real thing! My vibrator was on its last buzz since I had been blowing the batteries out that bitch almost every night.
Dre and I talked about everything, he was so easy to talk too. He was well aware that I was still in communication with Ace because he would be right beside me when I accepted the calls. I never hid anything from Dre, but I withheld certain information from Ace just to ease his mind while he was away. But Ace was no fool, he knew what the fuck I was up too out in the real world. We were so in tune, If I fell and hit my head, he would get the headache.  I knew he had to know I had this young nigga blowing my back out every night. Yet, he didn't dare ask me any questions. He knew I was too honest for that. He was very careful not to ever ask me about things he didn’t really want to know the answers too. Instead he would just remind me that his time is going to be up soon. He would say things like. " I'll be coming home soon and whatever nigga you dealing with going to disappear or he's going to die." At the time, I thought It was just tough jail talk but Ace was going to show me and Dre, just how serious he was about his wife and his family!

Fast forward a few months later. I'm busily getting dressed to go visit my sugar daddy when I get a call.
"Hello? Who is this?" I ask, pushing the receiver to my ear.
"You know, who this is girl, stop playing with me," A familiar voice says.
"Ace! Boy, what number you calling me from? Where you at?"
"I'm coming home baby! I should be at the house in like 20 minutes," he explains.
"Today? Like right now?"
"Yeah nigga, right now! So tell that nigga you been fuckin with, daddy's home so better pack it up and he got 19 minutes to do so. (I chuckle) On everything I love Peaches, it better just be you and the kids when I get up there or I'm going right back to jail yo! I'm dead-ass!" he threatened.
"Boy, shut up! Ain't nobody even over here." I said while locking eyes with  Dre. " See you soon, let me try to straighten up before you get here..... Love you too."
I hang up the phone and look over at Dre, who is just sitting at the edge of the bed with the saddest eyes I've ever seen. I knew I was about to have a problem! Dre had been staying in my house for a few months, by this time. I felt bad having to kick him out, cause I had love for him too, but where else was my husband supposed to go! This was the home we shared before he left, so I had no other choice except, to get rid of Dre. I just didn’t know how hard getting rid of him would be!

I'm not the bitch that's going to sugar coat shit, so I hop up off the bed and start cleaning, tap Dre on his should and say, "You gotta go, Ace on his way." Without waiting for his response, I continue with the broom, sweeping the trash out of the door. He follows behind me, with the whining shit.
"What you mean, I gotta go? Oh so just like that it's fuck me? Really peaches?!"
" What do you want me to say, he lives here! Where else is he going to go Dre?"
"I live here too so I don't know where the fuck he going but I know, I'm not going nowhere!"
"Huhhh boy, come on now! Don't do this, you already knew what it was bruh," I screamed, standing on my toes to get closer to his face. I'm a midget in comparison to his tall 6'2 build; I had to make sure the nigga was hearing me! "He's on his way right now! If you stay here he's going to kill you. Real talk and I'm not even being funny or nothing, he will really kill you. Just leave please, my kids in the next room, I'm not even trying to deal with the dumb shit today!" I begged.
"Man what?!" Dre screamed so loud, his eyes looked like they were going to explode!
I could tell my statement offended his masculinity because he instantly became so enraged! "That Nigga ain't gone do shit to me! On my set, I'll wait right here and bet that nigga ain't going to kill nobody!" I watched his light skin turn red, as he began stomping through the house, knocking shit over, having one big childish tantrum. I've never seen a grown man act like this in my entire life! All I know is, I'm trying to clean up before my husband cames home and I got this nigga in here fuckin my house up!
 "Oh hell no! Don't be in this motherfucker tearing my shit up!" At this point I'm livid, so I chase his ass into the room, wildin the fuck out. "I told you, in the beginning, this was all just fun and games. I don't want to be with you Dre, and you know that, so stop the act and get the fuck out of my house! Now!" I snatch laundry bag out of the closet and start packing his shit.
"Man, move! I'm not going anywhere! That nigga gonna have to kill me!" Dre says while trying to snatch the bag out of my hands. My natural reaction is to start swinging, on the nigga! I punched him in his face a few times before I just let go of the bag.
" Get all this shit and get the fuck out of my house Dre! Hurry the fuck up!" I said as I exit the bedroom to continue cleaning my house. Dre didn't know what to do, he just stood in the closet, holding his eye in one hand, and the partially full laundry bag in the other.

About 15 minutes pass, I hit the blunt a few times and that seemed to calm me right back down. Dre was taking his slow ass time, but I wasn't about to keep yelling for him to get out. I already warned him about the ass whooping he was going to get when my husband came home so, at this point, I had nothing else to say! I was just so anxious to see Ace again, I didn't see him since the day they served him with the warrant, so it was going to be nice having him back home again after 6 months. I was hoping our reunion was going to be all love, but I just felt it in my spirit that Dre was going to start some shit, and as long as it was taking him to get out, I knew he was stalling to do just that!

Dre finally pulls his laundry bag into the living room and sit's it by the door. I'm standing across the room, trying to ignore his glances by looking at my cellphone. Kinda wondering, what is he waiting for? "You got a cigarette," he asked, his words interrupted my thoughts. " No, you smoked the last one earlier" I respond, visibility aggravated.
"You know, it's really fucked up how you could get mad at somebody for being in love with you! You did this to me Peaches, I didn't ask to fall in love with you!" Dre said, fighting back tears.
Here we go with this shit again. 
I tried to hold in my laughter; I know this nigga cannot be serious right now! I don't want to be a cold-hearted bitch, but I'm starting to feel like having good pussy is a curse because niggas been saying goofy shit like this, to me my entire life.
" Oh my god, Dre stop it! You know that's not the reason I'm mad! I just want you to go, I'm not even really mad honestly. I only hit you because you tried to destroy my house and then snatched the bag out of my hand, but I'm not even mad bruh. I get it, but you knew what it was already. No love lost or hard feelings. I'll still see you around, say wassup and everything... But that man lives here, you know this!" I said, grabbing his hand." You need to leave before he gets here. For real ." I warned, looking him right in his eyes.
There is no way to describe the defeat, I saw all over Dre's face as he broke away from me, grabbed his bag and started down the stairs. I don't bother to follow behind him, I let the door close and continue on with my cleaning. Just as I get back into the rhythm, I hear the doorbell ring and I run down the stairs to open the door.
With each step, the chaos from the porch is growing louder and louder. "Aye, what's going on?"
I open the door and on the front steps, there's Ace and Dre wrestling like fools! It’s  clothes scattered everywhere!
"Nigga, you ready to die about that pussy? Cause I am," Ace screamed, as I pulled him away from Dre. " Stay away from my house nigga, this my shit! That's my wife!"
Dre regains his balance, lunges forward and throws another punch at Ace, knocking him back a bit. Ace, who has that fresh out of prison muscular built, pushes my little ass out of his way and charges into Dre, knocking them both off the porch into the dirt on the side of the house. This was enough to daze Dre, and he could no longer escape the inevitable ass-whooping awaiting him. After all, Ace had just been released from prison-- he definitely had some bottled-up frustration. For what it's worth, Dre tried to put up a good fight!

Ace walked off, leaving him just laying there bleeding all over the place! He was so messy, I couldn't pinpoint exactly where the blood was coming from. Baby got fucked up! I tried to help him to his feet so he could collect himself, but he was much too heavy. It was probably best that he sleep that off anyway, so I just left him alone. I started cleaning his clothes up from the porch, putting it back inside the bag; most of them stained with blood. Just as I'm finished getting the clothes in the bag, Ace comes downstairs with a bucket of soap and water, to clean the porch. Dre must've felt his energy because, for a man that just got knocked out and was literally snoring, he shot straight up like somebody stuck a thumb in his ass!
"Are you alright?" I ask.
Too confused to answer, he just heads straight for his bag.
"Do you want some water or anything? Say something?!" Now, I'm starting to worry that he might actually be really hurt. He doesn't respond, he keeps his eyes locked on Ace. Ace is also fixed on him and they just continue what appears to be some never-ending staring contest, while Dre rummages through the bag of clothes.
"Hurry yo ass up Pussy!"Ace scoffs and spits in his direction. Some real prison shit.
"Make me nigga!"Dre mutters, in a weak diluted tone.
Ace sit's the bucket on the porch and rushes over to approach Dre. From where I'm standing on the porch, I know I won't be able to get to them fast enough to save Dre from another beat down. I'm not really understanding why he couldn't just take the first ass-whooping and just go home. He wakes up Poppin shit, but that was typical Dre. He was going to be a tough guy until the very bitter end and he wasn't about to just go out looking like a bitch! Before I knew it, all I saw was a thin shiny silver blade at the end of Dre's right hand and he swung that bitch just as Ace got right up on him, slicing a deep gash from his eyebrow to the top of his lip! "Ahhhhhhh, Wtf " Ace said grabbing his face in agony, the blood pouring down through the cracks of his fingers. Dre just took off running, he didn't even take his clothes. By the time I looked for him. he was already up the block about to turn the corner.
Its blood everywhere!
"I'm gonna kill that nigga yo!" Ace said as he reached in the bag of abandoned clothes on the porch, soon finding a clean shirt to apply pressure to his wound. "On my kids, I promise you it's war when I see that nigga! He's a dead man!" He promised, and I knew he meant what he said.


To be continued!