Heath stepped from the small boat onto the first solid land he'd seen since entering the vast Louisiana swamp and paused to get a grip on his culture shock. He had come to Ange Maudite all the way from Australia to witness genuine Vodun rituals as research for a book about the African Diaspora. Basically, he was an underpaid, but very enthusiastic field agent. His expense account was paltry, but it gave him the opportunity to travel to America for free and he grabbed at it.

Turning in a slow circle, he took in the setting. Against the dense green, gray and black screen of the foliage stood several small buildings in an arc around a larger one. All of them looked to be built of materials found on site and to have formed by accretion rather than the application of hammers and nails. The biggest building was little more than a roof held up by myriad mismatched pillars. The only wall was at the westernmost point, where it formed a backdrop for an altar. The primitive slab of wood was laden with bright blossoms, candles and offerings of chocolate and rum. At the very center was a post garlanded with fresh flowers that reached from the earthen floor to the center point of the ceiling.

"Mr. Ledger?"

Heath turned at the sound of his name and took the offered hand.

"I'm Austin Nichols, your native guide." The well-built young man smiled at his little joke as he went on. "Hear you're lookin' for gen-u-wine local color and I guarantee you gonna git it here. Hell, we got local color comin' out our ass."

Heath wondered if he was imagining the sarcastic edge to Austin's voice and decided to pretend he didn't hear it. "I'm really grateful for the chance to see an authentic ritual," he said. "If I trespass where I shouldn't, don't hesitate to let me know."

"Oh, don't you worry yourself none about that, Mr. Ledger. Won't be no hesitatin'."

"Please call me Heath. I can't be that much older than you."

Austin's smile came back, but Heath didn't see anything particularly friendly in the baring of large, white teeth. "Could be you right about that, cher. Then again…"

Austin's voice trailed off as his eyes focused on something over Heath's shoulder. Heath turned and made a quick grab at his heart, but it was too late. The treacherous organ had flown across the clearing and was now in the possession of the young man that had just emerged from the cypress trees. A tugging ache behind Heath's pubic bone told him that the rest of him would soon be following his heart. He'd hoped to one day outgrow these sudden and overwhelming attractions to his own gender, but it looked like today was not the day. Like the tide to the moon, Heath felt the irresistible pull in his blood.

The newcomer wore a battered black tailcoat without a shirt, showcasing a collection of charms and trinkets hung around his neck. His snug, faded jeans had been patched many times with scraps of velvet and satin brocade like a Gypsy fortuneteller's cloak. The only items of clothing that looked new were the snakeskin boots. At odds with the vagabond-rock-star get-up, the young man's face was fresh and guileless, patches of rose on his cheekbones warming the pale skin. Thick, dark hair complemented eyes as vividly blue as the water off the coast of Oz. However, Heath's eyes were drawn again and again to the sweetly curved lips permanently poised to offer kisses.

"Jake's a hounsi," Austin said. "A student of Vodun. I'm a houngan."

"I'm familiar with the terms," Heath said. "Sorry, didn't mean to sound defensive, but I've done quite a lot of research already. Please go on."

"Jake ain't just a student, he's a serviteur," Austin raised on eyebrow.

"He's like a priest that attends a specific spirit," Heath said, hoping he'd passed the Cajun's test and they could get on with it.

Austin smiled at the blonde man. "We gonna get on with the ritual real soon now Jake's here. Come on over here and let's us have a little drink. It'll help, believe you me."

Heath followed the big guy over to the temple, as his guide effortlessly threaded the churning crowd. Heath stayed close to Austin's elbow, a little nervous about being swept into the whirlpool of surging, sweating bodies writhing to the compelling beat. Drums, large and small, had joined the guitars and fiddles. They added a throbbing, hypnotic pulse beneath the wild, wandering melody. Heath's heart beat in cadence with the tanbu players' rhythm and he tossed back the drink Austin put in his hand without looking at it when Jake appeared from out of the crowd.

"Jake's a serviteur of Erinle, the spirit of the forest," Austin said softly. "Tonight we holdin' a manje, or feedin' ritual. We call it bein' ridden. While Jake dances, the loa will feed from his energy. It can get a little… rowdy."

"Fascinating," Heath replied without a hint of sarcasm.

The other dancers edged back, forming a circle around Jake. Austin and Heath now had a perfect vantage point to watch the lanky young man move to the music. Closing his eyes, Jake raised his arms above his head, swaying his hips slowly from side to side as he glided sinuously forward, the tails of the coat flaring gracefully. The music increased in tempo and the serviteur whirled faster around the circle, spinning and sliding. Without pausing in his steps, Jake divested himself of his tailcoat. Hard muscles gleamed with a fine dew of sweat and the amulets glittered in the torchlight. As he spun toward the altar, his hands dropped to his waistband and he unbuttoned his jeans. With a sharp tug, he pulled the pants down over the curve of his buttocks. Whirling about, the serviteur pressed himself against the sacred poteau-mitan, hips churning, humping the flower-wreathed pole with abandon.

"That's just plain weird," Austin murmured, as the serviteur's head fell back and his eyes, as hot and blue as gas flames, locked with Heath's.

"What's going on?" Heath asked, as Jake approached him, supple as a serpent.

"I ain't sure, but this ain't no normal manje. Looks like Erinle wants to dance for you," Austin said, unable to keep the resentment from bleeding into his voice. "Try not to back away and don't break the circle."

"I'll do my best," Heath said.

Austin sidled nearer the altar, leaving a clear path to Heath. Jake wafted closer, his body undulating like a reed in a languid current. This close, Heath could smell the other man's scent, an alluring compound of musk and cinnamon with an elusive sweet note like the faint fragrance of honeysuckle on the night breeze. Heath closed his eyes, breathing deeply. They hadn't allowed him to bring a camera, so he'd have to store up as many impressions as he could and try to describe them later.

A feather-light touch like the brush of moth wings against his cheeks made Heath open his eyes. Jake's face was inches away and the Australian realized that the young man had kissed him twice and was about to do it again. On the verge of pulling his head back, Heath recalled Austin's admonition and quelled the impulse. Jake rose on tiptoe to touch his lips to Heath's forehead in the gentlest of caresses. Meeting the man's eyes, the serviteur leaned forward again. Heath stayed absolutely still as the soft mouth covered his briefly. A sigh rippled through the onlookers like a fresh wind through green leaves. Heath hoped none of them would notice his reaction to the sensual dance, but he felt as though his cock must be glowing through the fabric by now. Jake certainly hadn't missed the fact that he was hard.

"Bloody hell!" Heath exclaimed as the serviteur grabbed a handful of crotch.

The Australian's panicked gaze went to Austin, and his guide shrugged in a most unhelpful manner. "Best you just roll with it," was Austin's advice. "What happens on the bayou stays on the bayou."

Jake hooked his fingers through Heath's belt loops and dragged him to the altar. Pushing the researcher back against the wood and stone platform, he leaned against him.

"What does he want?" Heath hissed at Austin.

"You cain't possibly be that dense," Austin said dryly. "What a you think he wants?"

"I don't believe this," Heath said. "This doesn't happen. This is a letter to Penthouse, an elaborate prank, or a bad screenplay that just needs an excuse for the main characters to get busy."

"Suit yourself, cher," Austin said. "You may repent at your leisure."

Heath sucked in a harsh breath as Jake ground against him to the sultry, smoky rhythm of the drums. Heath's head whipped toward Austin, as the dancers on either side of him took hold of his arms. Heath struggled as he was pressed back against the altar and held fast by Austin and two muscular celebrants. The serviteur continued his mesmerizing dance as he went slowly to his knees. Heath protested loudly when Jake unzipped his pants.

"Softly, cher," Austin said from behind Heath. "This don't hurt a bit. Seems like Erinle's sister, Erzuli, is ridin' Jake tonight. We didn't expect this, but sure would be grateful if you'd help out."

"They're stripping me starkers," Heath pointed out as calmly as he could.

"You just look at Jake, cher," Austin said softly. "Don't that purty?"

Heath's eyes dropped to the young man kneeling in front of him. Jake's eyes shone like the lamps of heaven as he gazed adoringly up at the Heath's hard flesh. To the Australian's utter embarrassment, his unruly cock twitched and a bead of moisture oozed from the tip.

"Let 'im touch you," Austin whispered. "You won't regret it, I guarantee."

"I can't just…" Heath's words dissolved in a sudden groan of pleasure as Jake flicked his tongue over the head of the leaking shaft. The crowed murmured as the boy tipped his head back, closing his eyes and licking his lips as though Heath's pre-cum was the nectar of the gods. Heath swallowed hard at the erotic vision. Though he was a very civilized man, he was on the verge of throwing propriety to the four winds. As if they felt the stranger wavering, the musicians changed the tempo of their drumming. The crowd began to sway as one, chanting softly in a sensual chorus.

"Let it take you, cher," Austin's voice filled Heath's ears, backed by the low, passionate noises of the bizarre choir.

"Just who is this Erzuli?" Heath managed to ask.

"She is the spirit of love."

Austin's voice seemed to come from a great distance and the singing of the crowd was like a shell held up to Heath's ear. He could feel warm breath on his manhood and the blood sang in his veins like electricity through power lines. With an impatient gesture, Heath easily broke free of his captors and took Jake's head between his hands. Ignoring the excited buzz of the onlookers, Heath rubbed his thumbs over the other man's ears, feeling the teasing prickle of short dark hair against his skin, as he drew Jake forward. The serviteur came readily, dipping his head to take the tip of Heath's shaft into his mouth. No longer needed, the men who had restrained Heath melted back into the crowd.

Heath could not recall when he had been so hard and so eager. Strong as an ox, potent as a stallion, these clichés did not begin to describe how Heath felt. Every cell in his body vibrated with teeming energy. He could stretch up his arms and pull stars from the firmament; if he clapped his hands, thunder would roll across the land. He was mighty and a son of the mighty and … there was a task he must perform.

Lowering his proud head, Ayza the Protector saw the serviteur of lovely Erzuli at his feet and saw that the human was worthy of the role of avatar. Pulling the velvet mouth from his cock, Ayza lifted the mortal's chin on his fingers, staring into the summer sky eyes. Erzuli gazed hotly back and Ayza grinned. He remembered now what his task was.

Heath marveled at his strength as he lifted Jake and sat him on the low altar. This was definitely weird, but whatever drug they had slipped him in the moonshine left him feeling marvelously light and empowered, and in love with the universe: the way he'd heard Ecstasy made you feel. The delusions of godhood were a bit worrisome, but Heath couldn't muster the will to care. Jake held out his arms and lifted his pelvis in as clear an invitation as Heath had ever seen, and when Jake's hand touched Heath's, the world vanished with a roar like a furnace flaring to life. All Heath's inhibitions were consumed in the conflagration that turned his blood to lava. Giving in to the urge, he ran a hand down Jake's sweat-sheened chest to his abdomen, mesmerized by the way the other man moaned and twisted on the altar. Letting slip his moorings, Heath surrendered to the spell of possession.

Ayza lifted his pulsing rod and prepared to sheath it in the oldest mystery. The serviteur moaned a welcome as the tip touched his opening, already glistening with oil. The music and chanting swelled as Ayza thrust powerfully, forcing his way past the gates of paradise.

Jake cried out sharply as he was breached and a ribbon of bright red flowed down his cleft. The first drop fell on the altar and was absorbed to the sound of exultant shouts of triumph. Ayza threw back his head and joined the faithful in proclaiming his conquest. Jake cried out again, unsure exactly what had happened since he'd lost control of the ceremony, but very aware that something had gone awry. Austin moved closer, stroking Jake's inner thigh soothingly as he called on his patron Dambala, the Serpent Spirit. Wise Dambala infused the serviteur with a measure of his suppleness and withdrew, leaving the field to jealous Ayza. The Protector bridled at the interference until Erzuli sent her mount's interior muscles rippling along Ayza's embedded spear. The god groaned and leaned forward, sinking deeper. Jake's teeth broke through the skin of his bottom lip as the big cock slid home in his socket. Austin murmured words that made no more sense than the lapping of the waves against the rocks, but they calmed Jake. Looking to Ayza for consent, the hounsi took hold of the ridden one's arousal.

Pleasure flooded Jake's senses, canceling the discomfort of his first time, and Erzuli rose up to take control again. Lifting the serviteur's taut buttocks from the blood-consecrated altar, the spirit of love engulfed Ayza's rod to the root. The Protector grasped the sleek flanks of his steed and thrust, rocking the slender body against the sacred cerements that shrouded the altar. The flames of the presence candles flickered and small offerings were swept to the ground as Erzuli fervently met the strong stroke, wrapping long legs around Ayza's hips, clutching at the Protector's wrists. Ayza lowered his face to the furled buds in their dark nests and sucked ardently, interspersing the suction with sharp nips of his strong white teeth. The serviteur arched his back, long fingers sinking into the hard muscles of the Protector's corded arms. Austin relinquished Jake's straining cock as Ayza raised the young man's calves to rest on his shoulders and cupped the sculpted buttocks. The god's powerful, rolling stroke pushed the serviteur's shaft rhythmically against dark-pelted washboard abs. Jake moaned helplessly as the stimulation from within and without sent his pleasure spiraling to the verge of climax. Frantically, he sat up, seeking his rider's lips, welding their mouths together with the very heat of Creation. Abruptly, Jake cried out into Heath's mouth and spilled his seed in a glorious scatter of pearls.

Erzuli, exultant and well fed, departed her host with his release leaving behind her the benediction of sweet afterglow. In her absence, Jake regained full consciousness. He groaned at the pressure in his untried sheath, and pushed at the stranger's chest. With a growl, Ayza crouched over his mount and thrust harder. Jake cried out and Austin signaled the drummers to slow their tempo and bravely approached the altar. "Shush, now, cher," he said. "Let Dambala take you, and take away your pain. Finish the ceremony."

Jake went limp, pliant as water in the god's hands, as Ayza pulled back to the brink. The rider looked down at his mount and something changed in the smoky amber eyes. Slowly, smoothly, reverently, the Protector thrust his full length into the tight passage to the sweet, sultry rhythm established by the tanbu drums. As the hard, slick shaft entered Jake at a new angle, the blunt head dragged over his prostate making him moan involuntarily. Ayza grinned and his happiness was infectious, imbuing the worshippers with joy. Here and there in the crowd, couples danced entwined, hands roving over fevered flesh. Austin lifted his voice in a compelling chant that was taken up by the watchers.

For Heath and Jake, the situation had lost all semblance of reality. The throbbing drums, the flickering light and the rising waves of pleasure that assailed them, conspired to convince them that this must be a fever dream. As uninhibited as though they were alone, Heath took hold of Jake's arousal, feeling the hot, hard flesh pulse against his palm. He thrust tirelessly, panting and groaning his delight at the feel of the hot, velvet sheath gripping him so tightly. Ayza shouted with pleasure as the clenching opening massaged his length and triggered his release. Yanking his shaft free, the Protector marked this favored mount with his seed, rubbing his twitching length against the mortal's manhood. Jake's sob of relief drew out into a deep moan of fulfillment as the tip of the other man's rod brushed his and he climaxed again. Well pleased, Ayza gathered the serviteur in his arms and held him close as the aftershocks weakened

"The ritual is over and your task is complete, Ayza," Austin Nichols said a trifle impatiently. "Go with our gratitude."

The Protector's gold-flecked eyes glowed eerily in the candlelight as he drew back and gazed on the sated figure of the serviteur. Stretching forth his hand, Ayza gently stirred the ends of the spiky dark hair in a tender gesture, reluctant to leave this shell of flesh just yet. Jake whimpered, shivering at the light caress as his eyes rolled up and he passed out cold. Heath blinked and looked around in bewilderment before his knees gave way and he fell to the ground. Austin stroked Jake's shoulder gently as he looked down at the unconscious Australian.

"Well now, Mr. Tourist," he said softly. "Was that enough local color for you?"

The End