Black Canary: The Warlord's Woman

There she was in a fabulous church wedding scenario. The church was huge and beautiful. It sat upon a mountain top and out of the long, verticle windows one could see a majesty of landscape and clouds. There were lots of long, hanging white ribbons connected to the cathedral ceiling which hung in casual bands above the crowded throng below. There were doves flittng back and forth across the internal expanse of the church interior. The pews were packed with Goalie Washington's family and friends. And they were all happy to be here. All happy to see Goalie joined in holy matrimony with the much younger Dinah. There were no conflicts about age, or even her race, just an overwhelming feeling of joy at being in the presence of love.

As she entered the entrance door in her spectacular wedding dress, all ready to make her approach to the altar where Goalie waited patiently in his handsome tuxedo to make her his wife, she couldn't believe how lucky she had been to be chosen as the woman who would bear his children. She headed down the isle toward the altar to the tune of blaring organ wedding music, where she would be delivered up as his woman, she smiled at all the African-Americans who watched her on either side, as this pretty as a picture young lady, was to join their family.

It had been a silly moment of imagination for Dinah, and though she had enjoyed it immensely in her inner private self, she had held it in her secret heart from revealing it to anyone, even her best friend. Dinah Lance-Washington..... what a fantasy, she told herself.

Behind her, somewhere by the entrance to the cafeteria, and down a hall, came a voice, both friendly and familiar. "Well, hello there Miss Dinah Lance!" Goalie Washington called in greeting as he made his way over to her lunch table.

Recognizing his voice, her eyes went wide and she quickly hid the notebook back under some books as she turned to look behind herself at the on coming greeter. It had been almost a month since the last time she had seen him around the school, and felt a mixed emotion of glee and ambivalence at the fact that for some reason, Goalie Washington kept running into her wherever she might be around school or the football stadium.

He was dressed sporty today, like a football coach with a white sport shirt and black shorts, which for the first time displayed to her his strong, muscular legs. He held a cup of soda with a straw in one hand and walked over and joined Dinah at the lunch table, taking a seat across from her as she sat down in front of her food trey.

"How are you doing today, Dinah?" he asked with the usual charm and affability.

She couldn't believe he was actually here, sitting across the table from her, just the two of them alone in the cafeteria with only a few lunch workers and meandering students to keep them "chaperoned". She blushed and responded, "Hello, Mr. Washington, how are you yourself?"

"Now, look..." He insisted. "We've talked about this, call me "Goalie"....."

"Okay... okay... But really? How does someone get the name 'Goalie'?" She asked and took a sip of her morning juice.

He raised his eyebrows in response. "Can you guess? It's a Bible name.... my mama was kind of proud of it, but I prefer the shorter version.... it sounds like a nickname, y'know?"

It made good sense to her due to the fact that he was once a tight end in college football. She supposed that it had been a name earned for always crossing the goal line to score. The name 'scory', might not have been as workable. She thought a moment about his challenge and then gave up in resignation. "I have no idea.... I thought it was because you scored a lot in college."

"I DID score a lot in college! Many times!" He said with a sly smile.

"But how often on the football field?" She responded with a straight expression as though not to give away a secret, naughty implication, but to leave the slate clean for his own revealing response. She then took a bite of her sandwich and waited for him to respond.

"Dinah...Dinah...." He said shaking his head and smirking. "You're not the 'bad girl', you know that." He nodded.

She blushed and half giggled with a mouth full of food.

"No...it's 'Goliath'. My momma raised me a good Baptist boy, and she wanted me to take the name of a powerful figure from the Bible.... but I think she also wanted to give me a 'red flag' to carry around for other people to see. Y'know like she wanted them to be a little afraid of me."

"Oh, my....Goliath, huh?" She said with a curious expression at the unexpected esoteric nomenclature.

She joked to herself as she briefly imagined a wedding cake with the icing spelling out 'Goliath and Dinah' on the top layer. It's close to Delilah.... her own name.... she privately joked. But that was 'Samson', wasn't it?

"Did you grow up in the hood?....... or.... in the ...... ghetto?

"Yes, I did..."

"Well, then it's totally understandable that your mother gave you the name she did....."

"You know.... that's one of the things I did want to chat with you about, Dinah..." He began with an assuring and caring tone. "My momma DID raise me to be a good Baptist boy, and I want you to know that my coming around to talk to you about this cheer-leading thing...... is straight up. I have a career to protect, and sometimes I have to deal with young ladies like yourself when I find talent here and there at various places I go all around the country." He said nodding as if to ask her if she understood the nature of his work.

She nodded and said, "Yes, I understand."

"A lot of times I have to work with minors... and you are one of those times.... so I want you to understand that I never want to talk with you alone..... when there is no one else around.... it's not personal.... just protective of you .... and me... y'know for legal reasons."

She nodded her understanding. "Oh, I know that. I would never want to cause you a problem, especially if you're really interested in helping me." She assured him.

"I am... I am.... but hell, you're eighteen..."

"You know in two months I'll be nineteen...." She said with a bit of pride.

"OOOohhhh.... well, Happy Birthday... if I am not around to say so then." He nodded in response. "I just wanted to clear the air on all of this, okay?"

"I understand." she said nodding and continuing to eat.

He looked around himself nervously and regarded the few people around in the cafeteria and said, "Now, there are really not enough people around right now, so I have to make this quick. I have a contact, a Ms. Pamela Tryon, who is a professional cheering coach with the NFL. We have an agreement where we refer talent to each other as we find them in our work travels. All of the scouts do it. And she is interested in seeing you perform your routines and talking to you about the future."

"That sounds nice." She told him. "But I have told you of my plans to go into social work as a career..."

He nodded. "I know, I know.... but many cheerleaders have a career and they cheerlead five months out of the year on the side. You could do that, too. Really, Dinah, I have seen what you do.... and as I told Pamela..... You are either a natural athlete or you have extensive Wu Shu training.... with all the flips and twirls you do....." He told her.

She suddenly froze for a second at the mention of "Wu Shu", for surely she had indeed been practicing Wu Shu as one of the many of the brands of martial arts that she was taking in her training. But she hadn't realized there was anyone who could spot that as a difference in her cheerleading performance apart from the other girls in the squad. It gave her a real start.

"Wu Shu, huh?" She said teasingly. "Well, you have me.... I am secretly a ninja.... no, I am a superhero....and now that you know my true identity I cannot let you live..... Mr. Goliath Washington." She said straightening her back and raising a menacing eyebrow while staring him down.

He gave her a laugh, which she just loved down to her toes to see, and sat back in his chair in a relaxed move of resignation. "You're beautiful and smart, Dinah. I just want you to know that the comfort zone is full of wishes and hopes... the success zone if full of results.... if you always hold back, and you never take any risks.... you'll never know that success." He told her quietly.

He reached for his wallet and pulled a card from its folds. He handed it to her and said, "Here is Ms. Tryon's card. What you do with it.... is all up to you, okay?"

She took the card and looked at it a moment. "Thanks, Goalie. You're a good friend. The best kind."

He winked at her and said, "I have to go for now, but we'll be in touch." He then took her lovely hand in his own and shook it lightly as though they had just concluded business.

As he rose and disappeared out of the exit to the football field, Dinah returned to her lunch and said to herself under her breath, "So .....it's a BAPTIST church, then?"

*******

Maleek knelt in the pitch black room of the master's chamber and awaited his arrival. In a few moments the glowing white eyes appeared fading in from the blackness to hang silently, with little clue as to the emotional position behind the mask which Warlord Voodoo wore. The booming, base-y voice then slowly spoke as he asked, "What .... has happened....? Why do you pause in ..... bringing dee wo-man to me?"

"My Lord, tings were not as perfectly planned..... directions not followed as dey should have been....." Maleek meekly informed the great master.

There was a deep, almost angry inhale of breath and then the voice spoke again. "What has happened to my bushmeat?"

"She came to us de-hydra-ted, my Lord. Dee crate was hot.... and cramped.....and I fear that dee agent in America did not do everything dey could have done to secure dee prize properly."

There was a long moment and then the voice replied, "Feh! Am-er-icans....... Deir time has come....... dee world will not be in-cohn-ve-ni-enced by dee curse of dee United States....... into dee next cent-ury. Dis is not your fault, my servant. Dere is..... no need.... to be concerned about those you love. Now...........when will dee bushmeat be ready to receive my blessing?"

"The sun has set, my Lord. We have yet to undo her bindings......"

"I can sense her.... I can reach out and feel her presence wit-in dee city...... she plans much du-pli-city...... much re-si-stance.....deere is little dat she can hide from me."

"What is your order, my Lord?"

"Hmmm." Warlord Voodoo seemed to intone as he considered his position on the matter at hand. "I will NOT see dee wo-man....... not before she has been..... prepared as I had instructed..... there would be only conflict in her speech..... insolence in her de-mea-nor.... what she has to say ....is of little consequence to me...."

"The night is long, my Lord." Maleek replied.

"Tomorrow.... at sundown....."

"As you wish, my master." Maleek said and bowed as he then turned and exited the master's main chamber.

In the darkness, the eyes seemed to move and glide without a solid form and then there was a sudden flash of flame, as though special seasoning had been thrown upon a grill covered in the hottest of cooking oil. PUh-tasssshhh! came the sudden rush of noise and popping sounds. Then a torch was lit and buried into what seemed to be a large pot which had always been sitting there in the corner of the room.

Smoke rose and the liquid boiled and bubbled. There was low level moaning and chanting and then a small skull materialized above the glowing orange and red water. "Maleek's service has provided him with many strong sons.....I now speak to his continued blessing of progeny..." Warlord Voodoo half sang and half spoke as the room filled with dark smoke and ethereal magics.

"I now call forward my own progeny.... the progeny that awaits to be born to Warlord Voodoo.......and the Black Canary! HahaHahaHahahahahahh!!!!!"

The head warrior stepped up to Black Canary, who had now been moved to a pole in the middle of the compound. She was still bound hand and foot, but was now standing and attached with rope to the pole. The cool night air of the African jungle caressed her exposed skin on her neck and cleavage and it gave her a small shiver. She addressed the warrior with a bit of aggravated pique and asked, "Okay, you have me well watered, when do I get to see the boss?"

"Dee 'boss' will not see you, Am-eri-can bitch!" He spat at her with more than a little anger, whose source was hard to decipher. In his hand he held a long pipe with a hole at each end. It was made of some type of dark grey wood from the surrounding trees and he lifted it to his lips, while watching Dinah with predator eyes.

"Nooo.... WAIT!" Black Canary protested as she tried to defer the obvious actions of the warrior. Her attempt was of little effect however, as he took a deep breath and with great force quickly blew into the tube. There was a quick "TssssShhooo" sound and Black Canary did her best to try to turn and avoid the projectile that had left the tube. Unfortunately, she couldn't turn far enough and the dart found its projected destination as it inserted its drugged tip into the top of her right breast, just above her bodice covering.

"Aggghh!" She groaned. ".........Don't I even get a fair trial?" She queried as she felt the warmth of the drug flooding through her breasts and into the rest of her body.

The warrior grabbed Dinah's face with his powerful hand and stared down into her eyes. He told her, "Aban-don all hope, Am-er-ican bitch. You belong to dee master now."

Black Canary groaned as her body began to overly relax, and her mind began to fog over. Thinking and focusing her eyes was now becoming a major accomplishment and her knees began to give way.

There were strange, yet amazing smells, making their way toward her nose, and in the back ground, somewhere behind her, there was a slow and steady beat of drums. The drums seemed to call to her with their repeating bongo sounding rythms. Dum-dee-dum dum, dee dum dum deeee. The drums went and the sound seemed to mix with the cocktail of magically altered fluids that had now been injected into her blood stream.

She felt the warrior place his hands on her shoulders and then begin to push her jacket down her arms. He then pulled forward on her bodice, exposing her well plumped breasts. His intent was clear, though Black Canary could hardly defend herself against it. He looked at her full, bulbous mammaries and nodded. "You.... are well fed.... well watered.... not like dee women here in dis land..... and yet.. you take what is ours..... what is meant for us...... even our glory..... as dee master wishes."

Black canary tried to respond in her own defense, but her mouth simply would no longer form words. She felt her body being untied from its restraints and unseen persons holding her up so that she did not collapse on the ground. Her boots were then removed, as well as her stockings and body suit. Then the rest of her clothing was removed until she was now as nude as the day she was born.

She was then allowed to collapse to the ground. Unable to bring her hands up to cushion herself, she fell hard and flat on her stomach with a grunt. She lay in the grass and dirt, face down and with her exposed behind high in the air. And the drums kept beating as she swam in their syrupy, sexual thumping rhythms.

Dum dee dumm dumm dee dumm dumm dee dee. The drums went, and Dinah floated away on a sea of mystical sounds, smells and a curiously increasing lustful desire within her breast. The warrior watched the vanquished heroine for a moment and then commented to his men surrounding them all, "Dis is the great.....Black Canary...." And then he shook his head in derision.

Several of the men lifted the moaning, writhing heroine high in the air and placed her nude body on a mat made of strong intertwined palm leaves, which had two poles tied to each side of the bed. Black Canary lifted her face to look around her as she struggled with her eyes, which were now demanding to roll in her head.

She saw dozens of torches, villagers all dressed in strange regalia with skull masks on their faces and they surrounded the mat as it was lifted high above the people. Her breasts were now swelling, her nipples hardening and her loins were becoming almost too hot to withstand despite the gushing flood of female juices that rolled out of her sex and onto the mat in an increasing torrent of wanton lust.

Dumm dee dumm dumm dee dumm deedumm deedum.... went the drums.

The people sang as a group in a low, slow tone. "Oom takaaaaaa noddoo sloommo oom takkaaaaaaa....." they sang in rythm with the pulsating drums.

Black Canary smelled strange concoctions of burning scents in the air surrounding her as the torches pitched and swayed while the people carried her to some unknown destination. She writhed and turned on the mat with unbridled, animal lust as her vaginal lips had grown large, swollen and began to purple.

"OOOOhhhhh!" she moaned with deep need. She then squeezed here naked thighs together and rolled her hips while grinding her teeth to the rising tide of sexual desire that accompanied the pounding pulse in her throat. She tried to slip her hand between her legs to massage herself for relief, but her hand was slapped away by an unknown person in the surrounding crowd who held a long switch and swung it at her hands as she tried to touch herself.

"NO!" Came the command from a stern voice. She stretched her mouth in a grimace of mixed pain and need as she reached behind her and grabbed hold of the mat in order to not receive any more attention from the person with the switch. And the drums played as the procession moved forward slowly rocking her back and forth.

"EEErrrgghh!" She groaned in frustration.

Dum dee dumm dumm dum dee dee dumm dumm.....

"Oom takaaaaaa noddoo sloommo oom takkaa....." they sang.

Black Canary's superheroine outfit was collected and placed upon the pole that she had been tied to when she had been stripped. The jacket hung around the one piece body suit. The suit hung above the stockings. The stockings hung above the boots on the ground. And there her heroine outfit hung in an effigy to her defeat at the hands of Warlord Voodoo.

The crowd moved forward with their writhing, drooling captive as they entered a large, single hut. Within the hut were blazing torches and dozens of multi-colored candles which shone with a strange bluish aura. There was strange smoke which hung in the atmosphere and cloyed to her nude skin with a consistency of spider webs. She raised her head from her mind blowing sexual reverie to peer around her, and as she did there was a low howl in the room, one like a wounded animal in the far off jungle.

"OOooowwwOOOOooowww......" Moaned the high pitched sound. And it repeated and reverberated throughout the room. The drums remained out side and continued their throbbing pulse but the people carried her into the room and toward the center while still singing their hypnotic song.

"Ooomba takaaaa noobum takaaaa soooohli...."

In the center of the room was a large black cast iron pot. It had been partially filled with a mixture of oils and water, and there was a slow flame beneath it burning on large pieces of dark wood. Warmed, the oil rose to the surface and then rolled back down into the pot once more, with tiny little air bubbles trapped within its undulating waves. Black Canary was guided over to the pot while held high on the mat and then the procession gently lowered one half of the mat and allowed her to slide feet first into the pot of oils.

As her naked body slid into the oils, an intense warming sensation filled her mind and she gasped in rapturous surprise. Up and down her spine there was a thrilling needling of her skin and her muscles relaxed and tensed to the epidermal sensation. She grabbed the sides of the pot lip and hung on. It seemed she might pass out and slide whole body and head long into the bubbling, sensuous mixture. She half stood, half sat in the pot, her mouth hanging open in amazement at the carnal reaction of her body as she accepted the effects of absorbed liquid magic in her most private places.