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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
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type of literature, or you are under age,
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African Drums
By Dark Dreamer (address withheld)
***
This is the story of a spoiled teenage coed who is
forced to accompany her parents on an African safari.
She becomes separated and is kidnapped and abused by
jungle savages and other nasty sorts. There is no real
violence... aside from the rapes, non-consensual sex
and bondage, that is. Our heroine does come out
essentially unharmed in the end. (MF+/F, nc, rp, bi,
dom, mc, size, intr)
***
Archivist note: The original story was written in 1999,
then revised in 2000 and now it has been updated to the
complete version. Enjoy a great read. Well done Dark
Dreamer.
***
Kristen had whined the entire week before they left.
She had whined and sulked during the plane flight, and
was now whining, sulking, pouting, and occasionally
snarling. Going on an African safari, far from chili
dogs, pizza, MTV, and her friends, was not her idea of
a holiday.
For once, though, her parents had held firm. They
intended that this would be a good old fashioned family
holiday, and were determined to enjoy it if it killed
them, and her. No amount of whining, cajoling and
begging had managed to sway them.
Thus she was now standing on the runway in a baking
heat, watching her father wave forlornly at baggage
handlers who zipped by as if he were invisible. It was
little wonder, what with the enormous amount of luggage
sitting beside him.
Kristen herself was very far from invisible to the
baggage handlers, as well as all the other bemused,
astonished and wondering Africans within sight. If she
noticed the stares, she gave not sign. She was, after
all, used to be stared at, though not in quite the same
way.
She was, as she well knew, a lovely, even stunning
young woman. Her development had started early. Even
when she was eleven years old, her physical maturity
was such that she was taken for a girl several years
older. She'd learned quickly that the men who looked at
her so closely could be manipulated in a variety of
ways to her benefit.
At eleven, that merely meant cooing and blinking her
eyes. By twelve she was wearing tight or revealing
clothes and positioning her body in such a way that
older boys and even grown men would groan and flash
carnal visual images in their minds.
By the time she'd turned thirteen, she was an expert at
manipulation, at controlling and maneuvering men, using
their weakness for her nubile teenage body to make soft
jelly of their hearts and minds, and hard steel of
their prongs.
She'd lost her cherry before entering high school, to a
handsome teacher who'd responded by changing her F to
an A. Usually she didn't have to actually sleep with
them of course. A little cooing and sultry whispers,
combined with a kiss or two sometimes did it.
For more difficult cases, she'd casually rub herself
against them, or let them cop a feel of her boobs, or
crotch, and sometimes even jerked them off.
She'd gotten great grades in High School without having
a particularly nimble mind, or studying hard. Others
wondered about that, but as a leader of her peer group
in school, few openly questioned her methods for
academic achievement.
It was the same in college. She'd started just this
year, and had found the college professors even more
willing to come under her sway. The high school
teachers had the added worry, first of arrest, and even
after she passed the age of consent, of firing, if
caught with her.
College teachers didn't really have to worry about
that. Affairs between students and teachers weren't
unusual. They could freely make use of what she offered
in exchange for good grades, and not worry about
consequences.
Now, as she stood on the runway, clad in her tight
short shorts and her purple tank top that was cut off
just below the breasts, she was the near perfection of
a sexual creature. She didn't even have to try and pose
anymore. Any position she took could automatically
bring males organs to erection.
Her body was that of a goddess, perfect in its Ivory
Whiteness, gleaming with health. There was not a
pimple, mole, or freckle anywhere on it. She was tall
and effortlessly graceful, her movements that of a
ballet dancer.
Her breasts were large enough to cause double takes,
but not large enough to detract from the perfect
symmetry of her shape. They were high and perfectly
round and of a firmness few young women ever achieved,
even during arousal. Her nipples were tiny pink nubs in
the exact center of each breast, which, when hard,
lengthened to an almost unnatural length, standing out
hard and ultra sensitive.
Her legs were the kind that made men run into poles, so
transfixed were they by the long gleaming contours of
her perfect thighs, shapely calves and sweet and lovely
knees.
Her ass would have won awards if such were given, and
if she had ever deigned to enter any contest. It was
the perfection other women longed for, had operations
for. Not an ounce of fat, not a hint of imperfection
marred her sweet and sumptuous buttocks. They were more
perfect in their shape when she slouched in her
sneakers than most women achieved in six inch heels and
tightly shaping pants and jeans.
Her face was the profile of delicate loveliness. Her
eyes were wide and bright, bright blue. When she
wanted, they were the eyes of an appealing child.
Within an instant they could turn sultry and wanton.
Her nose was a mere button, a little snub thing that
made the women sigh and smile. Her mouth was narrow and
luscious, her lips full and sensuous, her teeth,
brilliant white perfection. Taken as a whole, her face
was enough to make grown men and women weep, the men
with regret, that they would never know her intimate
acquaintance, the women with amazed jealousy.
Her hair was the perfect frame for such a wondrously
sculpted visage. It was chest long and as feathery soft
and fleecy as the finest silk. At the same time, it was
luxuriously thick, cascading around her head and
splashing over her shoulders and down her chest and
back like a lustrous waterfall halted in mid-fall.
All of these taken together drew lustful and envious
stares and gasps wherever she went, and contributed to
what was, admittedly, more than a hint of arrogance,
haughtiness and vanity. Being rich always tended to
draw people into immodesty. Being rich as well as
stunningly, dazzlingly, ravishingly, gorgeous, gave her
an ego hard to reign in, even on those odd occasions
when she tried.
Of course, her luscious silhouette and mouth watering
face were not the only reason she was drawing stares at
the moment. The main point of attraction for the
Africans was her hair, which was a bright, but not
unattractive shade of pink.
If she had been aware of the amusement, or confusion
her hair color was causing, she would have simply
sniffed about the crudeness and lack of sophistication
of the watchers, utterly certain that wherever in the
world she happened to be, whatever she happened to be
wearing was THE height of fashion, and that included
hair coloring and style.
She was not aware of the bewildering looks though,
since all her attention was focused on herself, and the
unhappiness and uncomfortableness she was presently
feeling. These were not things Kristen was normally
forced to contend with.
Seldom in her short life had she been refused any
pleasure, comfort or want, however fleeting or
transitory. Everywhere she went she was granted boons
favors and generosity. At home, her slightest wish was
her parent's most important demand. Nothing was denied
her.
Of course this went a long way to explaining her self
indulgent nature, her selfishness and vain outlook on
life. Kristen was about as spoiled as any human being
that walked the face of the earth, and as shallow as a
dried river bed.
Though she was far from stupid, an original thought had
never crossed her pretty little mind. She followed the
dictates of her social group to the letter, her every
move governed by whatever happened to be "IN."
Now here she was sweating, SWEATING! In a sauna that
was permissible, but out in the open, in her clothes,
it was utterly intolerable.
"Dadddeeeeeeeeee," she whined. "Can't we go indoors
where it's air-conditioned?"
"The building isn't air-conditioned sweetheart. It's
hotter than out here," he replied.
"Not air-conditioned?" She was truly amazed. In her
experience all buildings were air-conditioned. What
kind of a place was this?
"Ahhh, here comes our driver I think," her father
sighed with relief.
Kristen turned to see a boxy looking car racing towards
them in a cloud of dust. She squinted her eyes against
the sun, then put her hand over her mouth as the thing
drew up in front of them, hurling small pebbles and
dirt all around.
"You Charles Taylor?" a voice demanded.
"I am."
"Righto."
A figure jumped out of the box and moved around to
stand in front of them. Kristen looked up in disgust.
The man was in his early thirties, tall, with coarse
dark hair and weathery tanned skin, he wore a cheap
brown short sleeved shirt and dark green pants tucked
into boots, not even designer boots.
He was sort of handsome, in a rugged, cowboy type way,
with a thick, barrel chest and enormous, biceps. His
hands were big and rough from work, and his chest hair
curled out through the half open shirt. Kristen
wrinkled her nose in distaste.
"Pleased ta meet yah." The man said, holding out his
big hand at Taylor. "I'm Joe Steel."
"How do you do?" Charles said, shaking hands.
"This is my wife Lucy..."
"Charmed." Lucy said, waving her hand back and forth in
front of her face to stir a little breeze.
"And my daughter Kristen."
"Hi there Kris." he grinned, his eyes sliding quickly
and appreciatively up and down her body.
"Kristen." she said, stiffly, glaring in reproach.
It didn't do to let the help become to chummy to begin
with, and nobody dared call her Kris.
With no further delay Joe had begun hefting their bags
one and two at a time, and tossing them into the rear
of the "Rover" as he called it. He showed not even a
hint of effort at the heavy bags and was quickly done,
whereupon he jumped into the driver's seat to await
them.
Charles held open the rear door and Lucy and Kristen
carefully stepped in.
"Don't you have air-conditioning?" she complained.
"You're joking?" He laughed. "Air-conditioning! What a
laugh!" He then proceeded to laugh, long and hard,
before stomping on the gas pedal. The three passengers
were thrown back against the weakly padded seats as the
Rover bumped and bounced across the dirt field and out
through the airport gate.
In a short length of time, they were driving through an
incredibly dirty and tacky looking excuse for a city,
with hordes of Black people wandering around aimlessly
and shrieking in some ugly foreign language that
Kristen knew wasn't French or Italian, the only two
acceptable languages other than English.
"How far is the hotel?" She grumbled.
"Hotel? We ain't goin' to no hotel, gorgeous. We're
heading right for the jungle. We'll pick up the rest of
the gear in Bankoland, then head inland."
"You mean we'll be traveling in this?!" she demanded in
astonishment.
"That's it beautiful."
"But... but... but... we CAN'T travel in this!" she
exclaimed.
He looked back at her in irritation. "And just what's
wrong with this? This is a helluva fine machine, girl.
It'll take you through damn near anything without
stalling."
"How long do we have to be riding around in this
thing?" She demanded.
"This is your ride for the duration, Princess." he
grinned.
"Daddeeeeeeee!"
"Now look, precious, we could hardly travel in a Rolls
in the middle of the jungle," he tried to placate her.
"Couldn't you get something that was at least air-
conditioned!?"
"You'll never get acclimatized with air-conditioning
pinky." Joe grinned.
"What?"
"He means you won't get used to the heat, darling."
"I don't want to get used to the heat!" she stamped her
foot on the floor.
"You ain't got no choice there, pinky."
"Don't call me that!" she demanded, furiously.
He laughed, which did nothing to cool her temper. She
folded her arms tightly, despite the heat, and sank
back in her corner of the seat, determined to sulk
until she was back home again. The Rover continued to
bounce along until they reached a small village outside
town.
There they stopped. There was six other four wheel
drive vehicles there waiting. Joe looked at them in
disbelief. "What in hell?" He jumped out and went to
the waiting native drivers, chatting furiously.
"You told me to find everything on the list and bring
it here with drivers." The man in charge said,
shrugging.
"What in hell was on the friggin list?!" Joe demanded.
He poked his nose inside the rovers and jeeps, his face
growing more and more incredulous.
Finally he came over to stand in front of Charles.
"Are you nuts?" he demanded.
"Excuse me?"
"What in hell is all this junk? You got furniture here,
fer chrissake!"
"Yes, a few tables and chairs, and cots."
"Tables and chairs!"
"I suppose you've never sat in a chair or at a table."
Kristen sniffed, disdainfully. Joe glared at her, then
turned back to Taylor. "You have any idea what this is
costing you?"
"Of course I know." Charles said with dignity.
"How about how long it's gonna take us to pack up and
set down?"
"I'm sure they'll manage."
Joe closed his eyes and counted to ten.
"It's your funeral," he said before finally, stomping
over to the other drivers.
"Really." Lucy said. "Couldn't you have found a better
guide, Charles?"
"He is supposed to be the best, my dear."
"He smells badly." Kristen sulked.
"I dare say we'll all smell badly soon." Her father
said, altogether too happily. Both women looked at him
in disgust.
They bounced down dirt roads for several more hours,
with the other cars riding along behind. They left the
road then, going through the jungle on even more bouncy
trails. Just when she was certain she couldn't take
another minute, they stopped in a small clearing by a
river.
"All right. We're here." Joe said in obvious relief. He
almost dove out of the rover, moving as far away from
Kristen as he could get. Never had he had to bear such
a constant unending barrage of whining complaints, and
snotty comments.
If she had known the fantasies he'd used to try and
block her out for most of the afternoon, Kristen would
have been outraged. In truth, they weren't all that
different from most men's fantasies about her, except
for being considerably more violent.
The dozen natives proceeded to set up the camp, which
included two large tents, each ten feet by twelve feet
and tall enough for a tall man to stand. Inside each
they carried a large round plastic bathtub, which they
set up in a curtained corner, along with the portable
toilets.
They attached round curtain rods to the tubs, then put
on the curtains. A pipe with a shower nozzle on the top
was put into place, and a generator to power the pumps,
along with other gear, was started up. One large
vehicle was entirely filled with big drums of water,
which were rolled over and attached to the pumps.
Joe sat on the front bumper of his Rover and watched in
stunned amazement as the tubs, along with tables,
chairs, benches and cots were all unloaded and brought
into the tents. Each time Kristen saw him, she turned
up her nose and sniffed in disdain. Joe imagined what a
good sturdy leather belt would do to her round little
behind.
The Taylors wandered around, enjoying the scenery, what
there was of it no further than a dozen yards from the
camp at least. Kristen accompanied her parents,
shrugging and sniffing at everything they pointed out.
He's got a big campfire going, for the atmosphere,
Charles had said, since of course they'd brought
portable propane stoves and lanterns for heat and
light. The fire drew the only appreciative statement
from Kristen Joe had heard all day. She'd allowed that
it was "OK."
Soon after things were installed, the Taylors all
retired to their tents and the pumps started up. Joe's
mind filled with the image of the pink haired girl
having a shower and despite his irritation at her,
found his loins stirring.
Normally he wouldn't have dreamed of it, but the little
bitch had been such a snotty little thing that he
almost felt she owed him one, a look that is.
With nobody in sight, he unzipped the tent and poked
his head inside, then walked in, poking his head out to
be sure nobody had seen him. He moved across the room
to the little curtained alcove, then looked inside.
The curtain that ran around the tub was in place and
water pattered off it weakly. The pumps were only as
good as the power source which had to be small enough
to cart around. Still, a good spray of water enveloped
the girl as she stood under it.
The plastic curtain was solid, and only her shadow
showed through. Not a man to hesitate, Joe wandered
across the few feet that separated it from him and
pulled it aside slightly.
Her back was to him, and what a back! Despite his many
experiences with women he had to swallow a sigh of
appreciation. He shook his head as his eyes beheld her
beautifully proportioned body, the lovely round swells
of her buttocks and magnificent legs.
She turned and he let the curtains fall. Then opened
them a crack. Her head was tilted back and her hands
were rubbing shampoo through her long hair. He closed
his eyes for a second, then opened them again. No, he
hadn't been imagining.
"Good Christ!" he murmured, his voice easily covered by
the sound of splashing water. What a body! His eyes
lingered over her upturned breasts, looking even more
golden and perfect as she unconsciously thrust her
chest up and out.
Her belly was smooth and flat and looked like the
softest thing on earth. Her damp pubic hair, she was a
blonde, he saw, barely covered her dark little slit as
she stood with legs slightly apart.
The water trickled off her gleaming wet skin, giving
her a slick, oily look that set his heart pounding and
his cock pulsing. It was all he could do to keep from
jumping in and screwing her right then and there.
Luckily, he was a strong man mentally as well as
physically. He backed away and stumbled out of the tent
his eyes wide and dazed. No matter her personality
flaws, he was going to have the little bitch if it was
the last thing he did!
He set out to please her as soon as she returned from
her shower. His attempts to curry favor and amuse her
failed dismally however. She was used to men trying to
charm and please her and was in no mood for it.
Besides, he was as far from her type as it was possible
to get without actually being ugly.
His smile became strained over the course of the
evening, as his most gallant, courteous and congenial
attempts to strike up friendship, or even a
conversation, failed dismally, shot down by snotty
remarks, arrogant condescension and rude and brusque
dismissals.
He was in a foul mood when he went to sleep that night.
It didn't get any better the next day, as she repeated
her whining and complaining to such an extent he was
reduced to angry growls and snarls himself. When she
haughtily summoned him to her tent that evening, he was
in no mood to be pleasant.
Her constant sniveling had driven him to tear into his
stash of brandy far sooner than normal, and he was
ready to bite somebody's head off. None would be better
than hers.
Kristen was wearing a light white designer shirt, that,
because of the heat, she'd completely unbuttoned and
then tied together below her braless breasts.
That her magnificent orbs were thus encased in two
tight sacks that became translucent as she sweated, did
not apparently occur to her, and if it had, she
wouldn't have cared. Tormenting men, even ones she
disliked was commonplace to her.
Her shorts were the kind of baggy, multi colored things
currently in vogue in California, and looked
preposterous here, but again, that didn't occur to her.
"What is it?" He almost snarled after pushing through
her tent flap.
"This thing doesn't work," she complained, pointing at
the shower.
"So what do you want me to do about it?" She looked at
him like he was exceedingly stupid.
"Fix it," she said, pronouncing each word carefully as
she stared at him.
"It ain't my shower," he glared.
"You were hired by my father..."
"To guide you through the jungle. You want a plumber go
and find one."
"How dare you!?" she glared in outrage.
"Oh stuff a sock in it," he snapped.
"When I tell my Daddy..."
"You can tell Daddy whatever the bleeding hell you want
you silly little cunt. I'm tired of listening to your
whining and bitching and complaining!" He moved right
in front of her, staring down angrily from inches away.
She backed up in consternation, but he kept moving
forward until she was backed against a table.
He jammed his face right up against hers. "Your shit
don't stink! Do it?"
Kristen's eyes and mouth opened in amazement. Nobody,
but nobody had ever talked to her like this before.
"I-I..."
"Oh can it! I'm sick of listening to your whining
voice!" He shoved his face even closer, forcing her to
bend backwards across the table.
"You are the snottiest little ice maiden I've ever seen
in my life! You and your goddamn bathtubs and goddamn
CD player and your goddamn pink hair! What kind of a
crazy wears pink hair anyway!?
"I-it's the latest s-style," she stuttered.
"Style! Ha!" He backed up slightly, his eyes glaring as
he looked her up and down. "And your clothes. You wave
your little ass around and show off your fat tits and
then look down your nose at anyone that takes notice!"
He poked his nose in her face again, forcing her back.
"What you really need is a hard belt across your dainty
little rear end! Or better yet a good hard cock up your
tight, cold little hole!"
Kristen gasped in shock, her skin flushing red in
embarrassment and outrage.
"I bet for all your showin' off your still a stinking
virgin!" he snarled.
"I-I... am not!" she whined.
"Bullshit! I can't imagine you letting any man between
those legs of yours!" He reached his hand down and
cupped her left breast through the sweaty blouse. "The
only one that's ever touched these are you!" He
sneered, again putting his face right up against hers.
Kristen was now terrified. She was in a situation she'd
never faced in her life. Someone didn't like her!
Someone was being mean to her, yelling at her and
calling her names. She didn't know how to deal with it
and gaped at him in shock, not even trying to slap his
hand away from her hot, sweaty breast.
"What about it, little Miss Ice Queen?" he smirked.
"Or are you a lesbo? That wouldn't surprise me. A man
hating little homo!"
"A... am not!" she whimpered.
"Yeah?" He curled his lip into a sneer, then abruptly,
jammed his big hand down the front of her shorts. The
button tore off, popping across the tent as his hand
forced into the thin garment. Kristen gasped again, her
eyes staring down in shock.
Joe's hand slid right under her panties and cupped her
bare flesh, squeezing up against her pussy mound. His
eyes continued to stare into hers and as she looked up,
she felt held there, her own eyes unable to pull away
as his fingers began to rub up and down over her cunt.
Chapter 2
---------
Her breathing came faster and faster and her body
experienced a different kind of heat. Joe's fingers
slid into her body, pumping slowly as his big rough
thumb rubbed back and forth across her clit. Kristen
whined in protest, but held unmoving, her fearful eyes
staring up into Joe's hard angry ones.
At first, she wasn't even aware of her awakened
arousal. For despite her many sexual encounters,
Kristen had had an orgasm only once. That was with a
woman high school teacher when she was fourteen. The
woman had put her mouth down there and a feeling of
such overwhelming pleasure had come over Kristen that
it had frightened her.
She'd never allowed another woman's hands on her since
then, for fear that she was in fact a homosexual,
which, according to societies dictates, would have made
her something less than perfect. Her trysts with men
had been a cold sort of thing.
Mostly she just laid there and let them do as they
wanted, a necessary evil for her to achieve something
or other. She had moaned and groaned at the appropriate
times, but seldom felt even an inkling of excitement
herself. Her body was a tool to be used and admired,
nothing else.
Most of her encounters in fact, had ended before actual
intercourse. Kristen was skilled in overexciting me and
then bringing them off either by hand or, if absolutely
necessary, but mouth. She had only "gone all the way"
half a dozen times, none of which had lasted more than
a few minutes.
Now, the unaccustomed feelings coming from her crotch,
combined with her flustered and fearful confusion
towards Joe's confrontation and rudeness, left her in a
floundering mental daze.
She half leaned, half sat back against the table, her
legs slightly spread and her body bent back. Joe's hand
continued to work away at her groin, which was
responding with a tremendous wave of hot, tingling
pleasure.
"Like that. Don't you baby?" he hissed, his lips pulled
back into a snide, ugly smile.
He thrust his fingers harder and faster inside her now
moist hot little pussy chamber. His thumb pressed down
hard on her clitty, rasping across it with intense
pressure.
Kristen was trembling and shaking, her body gripped by
confusion and a sensual passion she did not know how to
deal with. All she could do was continue to stare at
Joe's face as his hand rubbed and pumped and squeezed
down inside her shorts.
Then he growled, his left hand going behind her head
and gripping a thick chunk of pink hair tightly. He
jerked her head to one side, making her cry out, the
cry, a low bird like chirp of confusion and fear. His
mouth came down on hers, which was open anyway.
His tongue shot inside, rasping and whirling within her
oral cavity. He held her tight against him, his hand
rubbing roughly away at her crotch, his body pressing
hers back against the table. The kiss was long,
endless, when he withdrew, Kristen gasped, her chest
heaving as she sought to draw breath.
Her eyes were wide and staring still as he pulled his
hands free, grabbed the center of her tied blouse and
tore it open, letting her hard swollen breasts drop
out. His hands immediately captured them, cupping them
from beneath, holding them up as his fingers kneaded
the gleaming moist flesh.
His mouth descended, his lips sliding across her left
nipple, then seizing, locking onto it. He chewed the
nub as he sucked it into his mouth. Kristen moaned, a
high pitched sound of bewilderment and negation. Joe
drew his lips out, sucking the firm pink flesh.
Her nipple lengthened and expanded as it hardened, his
lips enfolded the long stiff little bud as he ground
them softly from side to side. He pulled away, then
turned his attention to her right breast, her nipple,
already hard and elongated, seemed to burn as his mouth
enfolded it, and Kristen gave a shuddering moan.
"Oh!" she gasped. "Ohhhhhhhh! Ohhhhhhhh!"
Joe buried his face between her fat meaty mounds,
squashing them in together from either side. His face
rubbed up and down, then slid up along her throat,
chewing and sucking until his lips locked on hers
again. He held her tightly, his crotch grinding into
hers.
His hand once again found her hair, twisting her head
up and back for his lips. His right hand moved down and
unzipped her shorts, then shoved, letting them fall to
her ankles. Clad only in her thin silky bikini panties,
Kristen found her legs unconsciously spreading.
Joe's hand slid inside, his fingers penetrating her
sopping pussy, his thumb rubbing ruthlessly up and down
on her hard clit. Kristen's groin humped against him as
her body responded against her will. Her breathing was
coming in short, harsh straining gasps.
She felt her body burning with a fiery heat. It was
centered at her crotch and getting worse and worse. She
was losing control of her muscles as her legs became
weak and wobbly and her body trembled and shook
alarmingly.
Then a roaring blast of hot blistering pleasure roared
through her body, like an inferno it seemed to consume
her very flesh as she convulsed in quivering,
shuddering climax. Her hips humped out and down against
Joe's sticky wet thrusting fingers and her legs parted
widely, her body sitting back further on the table and
her chest shoving out and up as her back arched.
Joe held tightly to her hair, fighting her body's
jerking, humping, shaking contortions as he stared down
at her gaping sightless face with deep satisfaction.
As her orgasm ended and her shaking subsided, he
grabbed the panties and tore them right off, hurling
them into a far corner. He shoved the girl back against
the table until she lost her balance and fell back on
it. His hands gripped her calves, shoving her legs
wide, wide apart until her thighs ached with pain, the
tendons strained alarmingly.
"Now you look good," he leered. "Now you're in the
proper position." He abandoned her legs, his hands
going to his own shorts. "I'm gonna give you that ride
you been asking for, sweetheart." he grunted, taking
his raging erection out and pointing it at her gleaming
wet cunt crack.
Kristen laid exhausted, her chest heaving. She stared
up at him, her mouth gaping, her eyes wide. She didn't
know what was happening to her, or even why. She
watched as if in slow motion as Joe's big cock moved
closer and closer to her crotch.
Then she felt it, felt it wet and rubbery and yet still
hard as iron as it pierced her oily cuntlips and pushed
into her sodden cunt tunnel. Almost instantly it
reignited her arousal. She felt her cunt expand to take
in the intruder, then clamp down hard, drawing it
further inside.
It was bigger than most of the cocks she'd known, but
her pussy had little difficulty accommodating it. Joe's
hands came down on her legs, holding them wide, almost
parallel to the table edge as he stuffed his hot fuck
tool, balls deep into the twitching, shivering little
pink haired teenager.
He jammed it in hard, then tore it back out and slammed
it in again. A good hard ride he had promised and a
good hard ride she would get. He used full steady
strokes, but sent them hammering down into her body
with bruising impact.
His hips slammed into her spread thighs and buttocks
with a meaty slap and a protesting creak from the table
legs. His cock was a blurring piston as it rutted into
the bewildered girl. Wave after wave of intense sexual
fever washed over her, rendering her helpless and
stunned.
When Joe let go of her legs to fasten his iron fingered
hands around her meat swollen tit mounds, the force of
his grip sent shock waves hurtling through her chest.
It was as if her tits were bags of bubbling hot boiling
sexual water and his hands had squeezed them flat,
sending the liquid shooting into her body where it
burned with maddening and agonized fervor.
Her body quaked, then rocked, her ass bounced up off
the table without her willing it, then did it a second
time. Her hands, resting on the table above her head,
flopped and jerked and trembled, then her back arched
with terrible force and she cried out in ecstatic
release.
A loud groan of orgasmic satisfaction drifted out of
the tent, causing the native porters to give each other
knowing looks, but fortunately not reaching as far as
the girl's parents, who were listening to a Brahms'
symphony.
Kristen's head thrashed from side to side and her teeth
gnashed as her body was gripped by an electric current
that refused to let go. She shook furiously, her ass
bouncing wildly on the table as Joe's hard boner
continued to pound into her sizzling cunt chute.
"Yeah! Yeah! Go for it, baby!" Joe groaned, his cock
flaring and steaming along its entire length. His hands
gripped her waist, almost completely encircling her
tiny waist. He hauled her back and forth on the table
like a rag doll, jerking her against his savage
thrusts.
Then the girl's cum finally subsided. Her body's
shaking eased into light trembling and twitching. He
bent forward across her, his cock screaming in
excitement as he kept pumping it to her. Then he came,
his cock like a firehouse as it jetted boiling white
scum down into her exhausted, languorous body.
He laid atop her panting, sweat covered body as they
both recovered. Neither spoke. His cock softened within
her and he slid it slowly out, watching her glistening
cuntlips slowly close together once more. He reeled
back a pace, his shaking hands pulling his spent cock
back inside his pants and fastening them together.
He shook his head, then looked down at the girl, lying
there in a semi-conscious daze, and staggered out of
the tent. Kristen laid atop the table for long minutes,
her legs still spread wide as the furnace between them
slowly cooled.
She raised her head wearily and looked around, then
blinked slowly and with a groan, pulled her legs
together and sat up. She shoved herself to a sitting
position on the table, then eased off, almost falling
as her rubbery legs failed to support her properly.
She was in a state of shock, her body and mind still
staggered by the events they'd just experienced. It had
been the first orgasm she'd experienced except by her
own hand since fourteen. It was certainly by far the
most powerful.
As her mind cleared it turned more and more to how it
had happened. How had she let that... that... that
animal turn her body into his own personal plaything?
The kind of man that attracted her was smaller,
handsomer, well... prettier, she thought. She'd never
liked the rough tough jock type.
How was it then that her body had responded to him as
it had? She blushed as she remembered how she'd cum
with his hand down her panties, rubbing her off like
that. How humiliating! How could she!? She wobbled
across the canvas floor to her bed and practically fell
in.
She was mortified! How could she possibly face the man
in the morning? It must have been the heat, she
decided. The heat and boredom and some kind of weird
animal reflex on account of her being in the jungle
like this. It wasn't her fault at all.
***
The next morning, Joe expected a change in personality.
He was surprised and angered when it didn't turn out.
His pleasant greeting was greeted by a turned up nose
and a sniff of disdain. Kristen was intent on
pretending last night had never happened.
"Sleep well?" he asked, slightly chastened.
"That is certainly none of your business, MISTER
Steel," she said, contempt lacing every word.
"What's with you?"
"If I want to converse with you, which I doubt, I'll
let you know." She sniffed, walking away. He glared
after her in confusion.
Kristen tromped off into the bushes, her hands deep in
the pockets of her knee length pink pants. Her bikini
top was slightly too small for her perfect breasts, but
then, all her tops were slightly too small. She glared
around her, still upset by last night, and still not
able to understand it.
She heard water and shifted direction towards it. A
minute later, she came out on the bank of a swiftly
moving river. She sat down on a stone and took off her
shoes, dangling her feet in the water as she pondered
the weakness her body had displayed.
Perhaps it wasn't her body at all, she thought. A man
like that probably haunted whore houses and such. He
must be greatly experienced in such things, though she
would have thought he'd have been little better than a
boorish slam-bam-thank-you-ma'am type.
She heard a strange sound and turned. Her eyes opened
wide and she gasped in surprise and fear. A fat, round
Black face stared back at her from a foot away. His
eyes were equally wide as he beheld the strange looking
beauty.
She screamed.
He scrunched up his face and then put his hand over her
mouth to stop it. His strong hands easily fended off
her weak shoves and slaps and a quirky smile appeared
on his face, then he scooped her up and carried her
several yards upstream to his canoe.
He shoved the squirming girl down into the canoe, and
with the speed and precision of a rodeo cowboy, had her
hands behind her and bound tightly to her ankles within
seconds. That done, he shoved the canoe out into the
fast flowing water and paddled out into the center of
the river.
The canoe raced downstream as Kristen squirmed around
onto her side and gazed up at him. He was a nightmare
come true. He wore only a loincloth, and his dark Black
skin gleamed in the sun. A bracelet of some kind was
around his upper arm, and another around his ankles. He
wore no shoes and his feet were enormous.
Kristen wondered if she were to be eaten. He looked
like the old pictures in the National Geographic she'd
had to look at in Geography class. What was worse,
sitting beside him in the handmade canoe, was a small
ax and a bow. A knife was stuck into the side of his
loincloth's belt.
Kristen quivered in fear, praying someone would rescue
her before this savage cooked her for dinner or chopped
off her head.
For his part, Mbinga, a member of the Bantu tribe, was
more amused than anything. He'd never heard of a race
that had pink hair before. In fact, he'd never even
heard of the color pink.
Downstream was the rest of his hunting party and he was
anticipating their own amusement and astonishment when
he presented this strange looking female.
Joe was the first to arrive at the riverbank. He
couldn't see any sign of Kristen, and first feared the
idiot girl had fallen into the fast moving water and
been carried away, then his eyes scanned the bank and
saw the outline left by the canoe. He hastened over and
examined the big footprints.
He took off his hat and wiped the sweat off his brows
as the jungle resounded to the trampling sounds of the
Taylors and some of the drivers. They were gonna love
this, he thought with resignation. He turned and looked
downstream. Well, that little girl is sure gonna get a
lot of fucking now, whether she liked it or not.
He was more remorseful that it wouldn't be him doing it
than that she'd get her little hole plugged. He had
little fear for her life. The Bantu who inhabited this
area might not be exactly civilized but they wouldn't
kill anything as harmless as the pink haired teenager.
"What's going on!? Where's my daughter?" Charles cried
as he burst through the bushes. Joe through out an arm
and caught the man just before he fell into the river,
dragging him back out from the waist deep water at
once.
"Don't wanna be goin' in there, Mister Taylor. There's
some pretty nasty types live in this water."
"Where's Kristen?" Lucy cried, arriving in front of
several of the Black drivers.
"I'm afraid Kristen has gone for a little ride." He
sighed. And I'm the one who's gonna have to go and
fetch her back, he cursed inwardly. Silly little twat!
***
Kristen's wrists were pinched tightly by the thin
vines. Her shoulders ached from having her arms pulled
so tightly back, and her hands were starting to go
numb. Her ankles were in no better condition. The
savage had tied her very tightly and efficiently.
Her clothes were soon soaked with river water, for the
canoe, though well made for its type, was not
waterproof and an inch or so of water was always in the
bottom.
Twenty minutes of paddling through the fast current
landed the canoe in a small lake. The far bank held
half a dozen canoes and Mbinga paddled across to them,
calling out in the shrill sing-song greeting of the
Bantu. There were answering calls from the eight men on
the bank who were drying fish and skinning a boar.
Mbinga brought the canoe up against the bank, then
jumped out and pulled it up after him. "Come see. Come
see," he called excitedly. The others walked over to
him as he lifted Kristen from the canoe and tossed her
carelessly on the wet sand.
"What is this?" Contaw demanded, frowning.
"I found this strange looking female sitting alone by
the river."
"Alone? A female?"
"She must have been banished from her tribe." Mbinga
said.
"With hair like that, it is no wonder," Verwinti
sniffed.
"What color is that, anyway?" Niyou asked.
"I do not know. I have never seen its like."
"Perhaps she is marked by the Gods."
"Or the devil," another suggested.
"All females are marked by the devil."
There were knowing nods from most of the men at that.
Counta's woman had cheated on him and bore him
another's son.
"What do we do with it?" Niyou wondered.
"Are you sure it's female?"
"Of course it's female. Look at it's mammary's there,"
he responded, indignantly.
Counta pulled out his knife and carefully slit the
vines binding the woman's wrists and legs together. He
slid a hand under her right arm and hauled her erect,
where she stood trembling and staring at them.
"What if she is a witch?" Niyou hissed. There were
murmurs of worry and several made a warding sign
against the devil. They stepped back from the girl,
who's head kept whipping from side to side, staring at
them all.
"Red is the color of witches," someone said.
"She is not red she is White."
"Her hair. Her hair is red!"
"That is not red."
"What is it if not red?"
"If she were a witch she would not allow Mbinga to
capture her."
"Perhaps she wants us to bring her back to the village
so she can ensorcel us all."
There were more warding gestures.
"I am sure she is not a witch," Mbinga said
indignantly.
"We should leave her."
"But if she is a cast out female she will die."
"Let her."
"That is not an honorable thing to say."
"We can not take the chance."
"There is no chance in it," Mbinga said. "I will prove
that she is no witch right here."
"How? You mean..."
"I will make use of her the way a man uses a woman. No
witch can stand that for she would lose her powers."
"She will not let you," Banga said, making more warding
signs.
"I tell you she is not witch." Mbinga said. He moved
against the girl and before she could react, tore her
bra top in half. Kristen squealed and closed her arms
over her breasts, trying to back away.
"Watch out Mbinga," someone warned.
Mbinga twisted the female around and held her arm
firmly, his hand reached for the strange garments she
wore on her hips and pulled downwards.
They easily slid down over her well rounded hips.
Mbinga paused a moment to admire the perfect tone of
her White buttocks, then grabbed the shorts and pulled,
causing the female to fall on her back as he jerked
them up and off.
"She is calling out a spell!"
The others moved further back, except Randow who was
braver than most.
"At least bind her so we might survive!" Banga cried.
Kristen screamed and begged them to let her go, but
they either ignored her or seemed to not understand.
One of the natives stripped her naked and tossed her
onto the ground. They were in a low clearing with dirt
and a slight stubble of grass beneath her.
The two natives who hadn't backed off pulled her wrists
to the ground. One of them held her right hand down
while another picked up a rock and a foot long stick.
Kristen screamed again, fearing they were about to
drive it through her hand.
Instead the stake was driven deep into the ground. The
second native tied a vine tightly around her wrist,
then tied it to the vine. This was repeated with her
other wrist, and her ankles, until Kristen was spread-
eagled and tied securely, hardly able to move a limb.
"Look. Her hair is a different color between her legs!"
"Surely that means she is a devil."
"I am not worried," Mbinga said, for he had once lived
in the city and did not believe in witches any longer.
He pulled off his loincloth and pulled on his long
flaccid penis, watching the female struggling uselessly
against the bindings.
She was not particularly attractive, though her hips
were decently round and her breasts could feed many
sons. He considered her too skinny though. The most
attractive thing about her was her smooth unblemished
flesh. For despite varying skin tones, he had never
seen anyone with such pure and flawless skin.
He skinned his fist up and down on his organ, squeezing
his fingers tightly. His eyes slid up and down the
female's body, admiring the perfection of the ivory
skin. He knelt beside her, still rubbing on his organ.
His other hand moved to her groin and squeezed. It
certainly felt like a true woman's.
Kristen's arms and legs pulled frantically at the tight
vines, despite the pain it caused her bare wrists and
ankles. Her eyes were wild and terrified as the savage
knelt beside her and then began pawing at her crotch.
She let out a sob of defeat as his hand squeezed her
crotch, then slid slowly up and down her body,
caressing her smooth flat belly, then the skin of her
chest above and between her breasts. Finally his hand
rolled up and down over her upthrust breasts, pausing
atop each little hillock to fondle her nipples.
Her eyes kept flicking from his hand on her skin, his
skin rougher even than that pig from last night, and
his prick, which was rapidly hardening under his
flicking fingers. Then he let go of it and positioned
himself between her legs, falling forward on top of the
hapless girl.
She groaned in disgust and revulsion, feeling his hard,
sun baked flesh atop hers. His skin was coarse and
rough as it pressed down on her firm rounded breasts,
irritating them and rasping across her twin nipples.
His cock was a hard bone like thing pressed against her
belly.
Then the man jerked up on one elbow and grabbed his
cock. He pressed the uncircumcised head against her
cunt. Kristen was terrified of it. She had never seen
or heard of an uncircumcised cock before and thought it
must be some kind of mutant thing, as if the man wasn't
even human.
It pushed against her cuntlips like a normal cock
though, and she felt her lips yield under its
unrelenting pressure. It moved inside her body as she
jerked against the vines once more, helpless and
sobbing in misery and fear.
The cock pushed down deeper and deeper despite her
tight squeezing of her pussy muscles. It rasped hard
against her tight dry cunt as it moved in, bringing
pain to her shaking body.
The man grunted and threw his hips forward, jamming
another several inches of cock meat up into her belly.
Kristen gave up resisting, she wept and let her head
fall back, staring up at the sky as the man drove his
cock fully into her body, his balls pressing against
the underside of her buttocks as he sighed and rested
atop her.
He pulled back almost immediately, then began a quick,
forceful rutting against her crotch. Kristen grunted in
pain as his long cock slid back and forth inside her
pussy tunnel. The sky above gradually began to blot out
as the other natives moved forward, somewhat reassured
now that she was no danger, now that Mbinga had
deflowered her.
They watched intently, making sure it could not be some
trick. Their eyes followed Mbinga's organ as it moved
back and forth, sliding in and out of the female's love
hole.
Kristen's breath was harsh and uneven as she slowed her
sobbing. Her eyes were watery with tears and saw
everything blurry. Her ankles ached as the native
raping her threw his hips against her crotch with a
flurry of very hard thrusts, slamming her small, light
body upwards against the bindings on her ankles.
Then he grunted in pleasure and came inside her.
Kristen was as horrified as most women would have been
if a dog or pig had cum inside her. She imagined the
foul wet stuff burning away inside her belly, like some
terrible acid.
"You see. I told you," Mbinga sighed.
"I will try and see," Niyou said.
"You do not think she could still be a witch," Mbinga
accused.
"No." Niyou grinned. "But if you are going to sell her,
I should find out how she rides first."
There were several laughs, though several men still
looked worriedly.
Niyou knelt between the female's legs, his own organ
already hard.
Kristen groaned in dismay as the second native climbed
on top of her. She watched dully as his fat cock pushed
against her pussy and then drove inside. This one was
much more eager than the first. His hands roved across
her body, squeezing and caressing her skin.
His hands folded atop her breasts as he held himself
fully inside her, and he began to fondle them roughly,
then his mouth bent and he kissed her on the lips.
Kristen almost threw up in disgust. She closed her
teeth and lips tightly and turned her head away.
The native grabbed her pink hair, a move that brought
ooohs of worry from some of the men watching. He held
her head tightly and kissed her again, preventing her
from shifting aside. Still, her lips and teeth remained
tightly closed.
He cursed and backhanded her, knocking her head to one
side. The Bantu did not tolerate defiance in women and
certainly not in captured slaves, which was what
Kristen was for the moment. He slapped her in the other
direction, then backhanded her again.
She surrendered with a woeful sob and her mouth opened.
Niyou's lips closed against hers and his tongue shot
into her mouth. His hands slipped under her and
clutched her round buttocks his nails sliding deeply
into the tender, malleable flesh.
He resumed his wild pumping, his cock pounding in and
out of her cunt tube so hard that her body was half
lifted with each stroke. Kristen felt strange tastes in
her mouth and wondered what manner of awful thing the
savage ate.
Her cunt ached from the ferocious assault of his
hammering cock tool. Her ass flesh was being squeezed
and kneaded as he hauled her up against his downward
thrusts. He humped against her fiercely, now raising up
his chest and howling in glee. His body was arching
backwards as his cock slammed deep into Kristen's body
and spewed out its load of hot white semen.
"Her love tunnel feels almost unused," he gasped to the
others. "It is amazingly tight on my manhood."
Most of the women in the Bantu were heavy and their
pussies were consequently larger than the comparatively
skinny girl now staked out on the grass.
The next native tore off his loincloth and dropped
between her legs. Again, a hot male organ was driven
deep into Kristen's body and the humping renewed. She
closed her eyes, tears spilling down the sides of her
face as she was raped for the third time.
The sun blazed down overhead on the lewd and carnal
scene, as one after the other, each of the nine men
present got on top of the skinny White girl and used
her body for their own pleasures. Mbinga then used her
for a second time, to restate his ownership of her.
Finally, all were satisfied. They were satisfied not
just in their lusts, but that the female was no threat.
No witch could have any power after being ridden so
hard by so many Bantu men.
Kristen's arms and wrists were cut loose and the weary,
miserable girl was hauled to her wobbly feet. Her hands
were bound behind her once more, but her feet remained
free as the natives put her aboard one of the canoes
and set off down the river again.
Chapter 3
---------
Joe knelt and stared at the tracks in front of him. It
had taken more than two days to get a motorboat and
then find where the Bantu had come out of the river,
and now all it showed was that they'd gone back in
again soon after. He glared at the tracks in
frustration.
Actually, the signs told more than just that. The
stakes were still in the ground, and part of the vines
were still attached. It didn't take a great deal of
imagination to guess what had been tied down like that
and why.
He let out a cold smile. He kind of wished he'd been
there to see it. He was willing to bet the little bitch
had gone nuts. He sighed again and walked back to the
boat, waving the pilot to start up again. He hadn't
brought a lot of men. He knew he wouldn't have to take
Kristen back by force.
The Bantu sold their captives and he had more than
enough to outbid anyone else for her, at least, anyone
among the tribe. The motorboat eased back into the
river and then shot forward.
He cursed again, how was he even supposed to find the
proper village anyway? There were scores of Bantu
villages around here. He just hoped he got her before
she was pregnant. If that happened and the Bantu became
aware of it they wouldn't part with her until the brat
was dropped.
***
After two more hours on the river, the canoes slowly
pulled ashore. There were a number of other canoes
there and the natives pulled out all their canoes and
rested them alongside the others. None of the vessels
belonged to any one village, they were shared by those
who happened to want them at a particular time on a
first-come-first-served basis.
After overturning the canoes, they set out down a
narrow trail that became almost imperceptible after a
hundred paces. Kristen was dragged along behind them,
still completely naked and her wrists still tied behind
her.
Mbinga tied a long vine around her throat and led her
behind him exactly as if she were a goat. A goat
however, would have been much more sure footed.
Kristen had difficulty almost from the start. The
natives set off on a natural pace that ate up the miles
rapidly. For her it was almost impossible to keep up.
Another problem was her bare feet. The natives had no
need of shoes. Their soles were hardened from years of
walking.
Kristen kept stepping on rocks and pebbles and sharp
twigs. She hopped and whined and cried out in soreness.
Mbinga kept tugging on the rope to encourage her onward
but she kept falling in pain. Finally the column
stopped and Mbinga went back in exasperation to examine
her feet.
One examination told him that her feet were like the
soft city people. He could not understand this since
she hadn't been wearing any footwear when he'd captured
her. Nevertheless, he hauled out a long strip of hide
and bound it around her right foot, doing the same with
the other.
They set off again, her feet now somewhat protected.
Still, Kristen kept falling back. She was panting
exhausted within a few minutes and dragging back on the
vine. Mbinga glared back in irritation, then handed the
line to Cowqe.
Cowqe pulled the female on while Mbinga drifted back
behind her. He picked up a light stick a foot long from
the bush and began smacking it down on her round ass
cheeks whenever it looked like she was lagging behind.
Each whack produced a satisfying burst of speed, as
well as a yelp of pain. The stick would not damage her
perfect skin, for he knew that would be the main
selling point of this girl, that and her tight love
hole. The girl fell back again and he whipped the cane
across her ass again, making her cry out and run
faster.
Kristen would have wept in misery but she had no breath
for it. Her chest burned and ached as she trotted along
behind the natives. Every time she slowed the one
behind slashed his hard stick against her behind. She
yelped again as the stick descended.
She was getting dizzy and lightheaded as her pain
numbed body neared the end of its resources. No matter
what Mbinga did she would have to slow down.
Mbinga slapped at her behind again, then again and
again, and again, soon making the entire area red with
pain and soreness. The girl kept yelping, yet did not
increase speed significantly and then not at all. In
fact she was slowing down further. Mbinga growled and
whipped her harder.
Kristen gave a final panting gasp and fell forward into
the grass. The natives halted and Mbinga came up to
stand over her frowning. She would not bring such a
good price if she were indeed this weak. He reached
down and grabbed her by her long thick hair and jerked
her up to her knees, holding her there despite her best
efforts to collapse.
"It is no use. We will have to wait for her to rest,"
he told the others.
"But we have long to go, Mbinga."
"We can not rest this soon, else it will take us days
to reach home."
"Then we must carry her," Mbinga shrugged.
"Only if we share in her price."
He frowned angrily, then tugged viciously on the vine,
making the sweating girl choke briefly.
"All right then," he agreed, sullenly, all his visions
of profits tainted by the weakness of this female.
Niyou and Counta chopped down a tall bamboo and skinned
it quickly, as Mbinga and Contaw rebound her wrists and
ankles in front of her. The pole, about eight feet
long, was then thrust between her arms and legs. Mbinga
and Counta took the first shift, lifting her off the
ground and setting the pole on their shoulders.
They set out once again, Kristen bouncing beneath the
pole, her wrists and ankles burning with pain as her
weight hung suspended from them. They ignored her
complaints, continuing their unhurried, ground eating
pace for long hours.
Kristen gradually lost the feeling in her wrists and
ankles and a numbness set in around them. Her head
bounced and jerked as she moved through the grasses,
her tangled hair sometimes covering her face
completely. She fell in and out of consciousness, her
body utterly drained by the day's events.
Then the natives cut across a miles wide grassland.
Kristen's body, carried along only a foot or so above
the ground, slid through a near continuous wave of tall
grasses. They slid like coarse feathers against her
upper thighs and buttocks, then downward across her
cunt, and down off her as she passed over them.
Her ass felt as if an endless revolving brush was
rubbing across her entire nether area. Her cunt,
peering out from between her legs, was especially
sensitive to the continuous sliding caress of the
grasses. It began to tingle at the light massage.
Slowly, with Kristen totally unaware of it, her body
became aroused. Her mind, what was left conscious of
it, was too caught up in her own misery to even notice.
Still, her cunt soon sizzled and burned and itched with
need, providing yet another source of profound aching
in her young body.
The tingling grew greater and greater, the raping
caress of the grasses making her ass jerk and tremble
instinctively. She needed something, needed relief,
needed something more than these light constant,
endless rubbing stalks.
She moaned, then moaned louder. Her delirious body
jerked and jumped on the pole. Her eyes fluttered open
and closed and she whined in seeming pain. The two
natives carrying her stopped, calling to their
comrades. They set her down and peered at her
uncertainly, wondering what was the matter.
Mbinga hurried back, glaring down at the woman and
beginning to wish he'd never taken her. "What is the
matter with her now?" he sighed. They pulled the pole
free from her, leaving her on her back. The girl's eyes
were closed and she gave no sign of the source of her
pain.
"Perhaps the bindings are too tight," Niyou ventured.
Then the girl's bound hands slid downward into her
crotch. Instantly her behind humped upward against her
hands and her fingers pushed into her love hole. The
watching men stared in amazement. "What is she doing?"
Rayogh wondered.
Mbinga knelt beside her and pulled her hands away,
jamming his own between her crotch. Again, she shot her
behind upward, arching her back and moaning loudly. His
hand came away sopping wet. He held it up to the others
with astonishment and happiness. This sign of her heat
would definitely increase her price.
"She needs a man's organ in her hole," he said.
"That is a wondrous thing indeed," Ghougumba said,
shaking his head.
"Perhaps it is this way with these people," Niyou said.
"Perhaps their females need a man's organ every few
hours or else are in pain."
"I envy their men," Counta said, causing laughter.
"Well, I will take care of her," Mbinga said.
"I will help if you like," Niyou said.
"I am sure I can sate her fires," Mbinga replied with
dignity.
He turned the girl over onto her belly and hauled her
up off the ground so she was kneeling on all fours. Her
arms promptly gave way and her head and shoulders sank
back to the ground. Mbinga knelt behind her and brought
his organ out from his loincloth.
He didn't bother to undo her wrists, but cut away the
bindings on her ankles and spread her legs apart. Now
her knees started to give way. His hands slid around
her waist and held her steady for a moment, then,
holding her with one arm, he used his other hand to
place his organ against her tight and very wet love
hole.
He replaced his grip on the female's waist, then thrust
forward hard. The girl yowled like a kicked dog. Her
head shot up and her back arched and then she shuddered
all over. Before the startled Mbinga could move she
began rutting furiously back against his organ, humping
her ass with a bizarre desperation.
He began to respond in kind, pounding his groin against
her behind with eager desire. Her love hole sucked and
slurped at his organ more than any he had ever plumbed.
He could not withhold his white love juice from her as
his body shook and she sucked out all of his seed.
Counta moved in at once and he sheathed his own organ
in her spasming love hole. He humped like a mad dog,
shooting off inside her in seconds before being
replaced by Niyou. He took her with long, hard thrusts
that drove her from her knees.
His big hands kept hauling her back up to meet his
strokes and all there saw the White female's body
tremble all over once again as grunts of pleasure came
from her pretty lips.
The tribesmen continued to sheath their sabers in the
girl long after her body spent itself and knelt, then
laid unmoving. Finally, they lifted her on the poles
again and carried her a few more miles before camping
for the night by a stream.
***
Joe had finally found where they'd come out of the
river, at the communal fishing point for the long neck
bands. That was some help but not much. There were over
fifty separate villages on that side of the Reboogie
River that made use of this spot.
He was forced to wander inland, instantly losing their
trail amongst the scores of others that had wandered up
and down here in the past two days. There was nothing
he could do but visit each of the villages and hope
that she was in one of the closer ones.
If she wasn't then he was in trouble. The further
villages were much more war like. They had to be for
they vied with the Pouta tribes in that area. The Pouta
tribes were extremely dangerous, especially to White
men.
He moved down the trail, accompanied by his three
bearers. He knew though, that they'd abandon him if
they came close to the Pouta areas. None wished to be
eviscerated by the angry tribes of the north.
***
It was night. The sound of crickets and other night
insects filled the air. The tribesmen knew the insects
as their friends, their guards through the night. For
if ought approached the insects would cease their song
to tell them of danger.
They sat quietly around their small fire, speaking in
low voices. Some ate quietly, gulping down tough pieces
of dried meat. In a corner, Kristen sat, propped
against a tree. She was conscious now, though not
greatly alert. Her wrists were bound behind the tree
and her head lolled forward.
She shivered with cold for the air had chilled with the
loss of light. Her dull eyes gazed bleakly around at
the savages sprawled about her and she started to
wonder not if, but whether she would ever return home.
She wept silently, feeling immensely sorry for herself
and cursing everyone and everything that had brought
her to this place.
Her dreams were filled with big barbarous Black savages
and their immense prongs.
The tribesmen woke before dawn and began making
preparations for the continued journey. They ate
lightly and relieved themselves away from the camp.
Kristen was cut loose and placed on her hands and
knees, then several of the tribesmen took her...
casually, though with pleasure.
Her hands were bound behind her and the vine attached
to her throat again. Then they all set out. Kristen's
legs ached ferociously, and were unbearably stiff. But
under the continued pressure of the rope around her
neck, they soon heated and became more limber.
She jogged behind the natives, keeping up at first.
After ten or fifteen minutes though, she began falling
behind. Mbinga began lashing her behind with a cane
which sped her up for a while, but finally she
collapsed like the previous day and they were forced to
carry her again.
The Bantu were not cruel without reason, and, not
wanting to cause the woman any unnecessary pain,
stopped and took her at regular intervals. They were
pleased that this seemed to work so well.
Several hours into their journey the Bantu slowed,
becoming more cautious. They removed their bows from
around their shoulders and held arrows to them as they
moved through the grass. Their voices became mere
whispers as they moved along.
Kristen hardly noticed this however as she had become
numbed by the long journey and repeated rapes. Every
portion of her anatomy ached terribly and her brain
reeled with despair.
Early that evening, they finally came into the tribe's
territory. The men hailed guards and minutes later,
jogged into the brightly lit village. Kristen was set
down with the other parcels and packages as the men
greeted wives and comrades.
She looked around dully, then became more alert. After
two days naked in the company of the small hunting
group she'd become accustomed to it. Now though, scores
of men women and children crowded around, all
chattering gaily and staring at her.
She covered her nudity as best she could, her skin
reddening in humiliation. A number of the people were
pointing at her and chattering. A small child rushed
forward and poked her with a stick before being chased
away by Mbinga.
She was carried into a hut and deposited on the dirt
floor. There she waited in the dark for some time
before a native woman, a fat thing with huge hanging
breasts and a kind of skirt around her waist, came in
and shoved a bowl of some unidentifiable substance into
her hands.
She looked at it worriedly and the woman made eating
sounds and lifted her hands in an obvious pantomime
that Kristen should eat the stuff. It was hard to see
it in the dark of the hut but it smelled good. She
brought it to her lips and began to slurp it down.
Satisfied, the woman left. Kristen finished the stuff,
which was surprisingly filling, and rolled onto her
side, eventually falling asleep.
***
"I tell you it isn't that dangerous," Joe glared.
"No go, Boss man. No go," the man shook his head
firmly. Joe sighed and nodded. It would be pointless to
try and argue any more. The men dumped his things and
started back down the trail.
He picked up the necessities, including his 30-30 with
the scope and the little Uzi submachine gun, neither of
which he hoped he'd need. He loaded on extra ammo and
rations, a change of clothes and a few other things,
then started uphill.
Within minutes he'd left the impaled skull that had
been left as a warning far behind. He found himself
panting and cursed under his breath, trying to ease the
sound of his breathing.
He reached the top and started along a very faint
trail, hoping he didn't run into the fellows who'd made
it. Out in this part of the jungle the Bantu, just like
the Pouta, would kill anyone they ran across before
even stopping to see who it was.
He made decent time the first several hours, but then
had to slow down to move more quietly. Every now and
then he stopped when he heard some unidentified noise,
then moved forward more carefully. By nightfall he'd
made only a half dozen miles.
He climbed a tall tree and tied himself to a branch,
spending an uneasy night up there. When he got that
little bitch back, she was gonna owe him a good hard
ride, that was for sure.
***
The animals wakened with the brightening sky and so did
the tribesmen and women. The little village bustled
with movement as the women hurried out to take care of
the animals and cook the morning meal. Kristen was
visited once more by the big fat faced woman who gave
her some gooey substance on a thick chunk of leaves and
insisted she eat it.
That done, her hands and legs were untied and the big
woman hauled her out of the hut and through the early
morning bustle. Kristen tried to cover her nudity with
her hands but the big woman had a hold of her left so
she only had her right, which she held over her right
breast, her hand in front of her pussy.
She was led down to a stream where several other big
women waited. The big woman with her waded out into the
stream, dragging Kristen behind her. When they were
waist deep, she shoved down on Kristen's head,
submersing her in the water.
Kristen surfaced with a spray of water, coughing the
water out of her mouth. Three women surrounded her and
began to rub at her body with coarse weeds. She
protested weakly, trying to draw away but they treated
her as if she were a baby that needed washing, and did
so.
The weeds were coated with a soapy goo they'd made and
soon had her skin tingling and stinging as they rasped
roughly across. They soaped up her hair and face and
between her legs without a trace of bother at touching
another woman's private parts.
When they were finished they dunked her underwater
several times and then hauled her ashore. The first big
woman led the sputtering teenager up the low hill to
the village and then sat her down on a small stool
outside a hut.
A coarse comb soon ran through her hair as the woman
brought the tangled mess to semblance of order. A
chastened Kristen bore the pulling of the comb bravely,
hardly yelling at all. When it was done the woman
beamed at her, pointed a finger at her and said
something, which Kristen took to mean, "Wait here."
She sat there wet and naked, holding her arms across
her chest and her legs tight together, for almost an
hour. Then Mbinga came for her. He pulled her to her
feet and then walked around, inspecting her. He nodded,
pleased, for the journey had left no mark on her
flawless skin.
He pulled her by the arm out into the center of the
village. Kristen had no choice but to go along. In the
center of the village was a round platform of sorts. It
was made of wood and about a foot high. In the middle
of it were two thick poles, placed several feet apart.
Each was over eight feet tall, and a third, horizontal
pole was lashed across their tops forming a crude
frame. This frame was usually used to hang especially
big animals that a brace hunter had killed, so the
tribe could admire them.
Now it was Kristen that was lashed between the poles.
Her arms were pulled high above her and tied to either
pole so that she was standing absolutely erect. Then,
despite her abject protests, her legs were also pulled
apart and lashed to the poles.
She was thus bound very tightly in the shape of an X,
and left there. Mbinga wanted her displayed in such a
way that she could be easily examined. Crowds of people
came close and examined her as Mbinga called out to
them that she would be sold in one half hour.
The people were amazed at her strange hair coloring,
though Mbinga allayed their fears by assuring them that
if she ever was a witch, she couldn't be now. He also
confided to them about her especially tight love hole,
and stroked her skin as he pointed out how perfect and
unblemished it was.
Numerous villagers came up next to her and slid their
hands over her body, marveling at its smooth soft
texture and pale ivory tone. Prospective buyers
squeezed her breasts and felt between her legs, making
sure all her parts were intact. Several also forced her
mouth open and inspected her teeth.
Kristen gazed around in terror and humiliation. This
was worse than her worse nightmare ever had been. She
bit her tongue and moaned as men and women of all ages
crowded up against her naked body, fondling and
caressing her.
She was afraid she was going to be subjected to some
kind of mass rape and was horrified at the number, and
looks of the people who might do it. She yelped as a
big woman stuffed her thick fat finger up inside
Kristen's asshole, searching for signs of bleeding.
Never could she have imagined being so utterly degraded
and abased. She wept in shame as more and more of them
crowded around her, their eyes sliding excitedly over
her nude form, their voices cackling in her ears.
After the hour was up, Mbinga began to take offers for
the female. Initially, the bids were low, as she was on
the skinny side. However, when he described how hot and
tight she was inside, and how her race seemed to need
sex regularly, there was considerably more interest.
Instead of pigs, goats were offered, along with several
spears and bows. He began to think he might well profit
from the weak White female, even after splitting the
cut with his hunting comrades. Then a truly deep voice
spoke up from the rear of the crowd.
Lunga had no need to push his way to the front. At
seven feet tall, he could easily see over everyone
else's head. His thick, powerfully muscled frame stood
on two tree trunk sized legs that could almost outrun
an elephant. Indeed, when Lunga ran the ground rumbled
like an elephant was passing.
Lunga, in fact, meant elephant in Bantu, for at birth
he had been so enormous that his mother had barely
survived his parting and her love hole was never the
same. He was easily the strongest man in the village,
able to lift a water buffalo.
"Three goats." he offered. It was a wonderful offer,
but then Lunga was the wealthiest man in the village,
other than the chief. His hunting skills were
extraordinary. No one sought to top his offer and
Mbinga clapped his hands, signaling the end of the
bidding.
The crowd parted before Lunga who tromped up to the
girl hanging on the frame and examined her with
interest. Beside him were his two wives, Churla and
Gumne, both weighed in at over two hundred pounds and
both were shaking their heads at their man's
foolishness.
"She will provide you with many satisfying rides,
Lunga." Mbinga said. If she doesn't split apart, he
silently added. Lunga was a man of few words. He nodded
with a low rumbling grunt. He slid his huge hand onto
the girl's front, covering her entire belly easily.
"Soft!" he grunted.
"She's weak and small," Churla sighed.
"Will get stronger."
"But no bigger. She looks fully grown, if skinny."
"Feed," Lunga said.
"We'll have to feed her a cow," Gumne sniffed.
Lunga paid them no heed, as was the way of men with
women in the Bantu. He reached down and tugged on the
vines holding her ankles, snapping them like seaweed.
Then he pulled on the vines holding her wrists to the
poles and she came free, dropping into his massive
arms. She gazed at him in shock, her small body held
against him like a child against her mother.
Lunga held one hand under her behind and walked back to
his hut with her, his two wives trailing behind and
still shaking their heads.
He carried the female into the hut and put her down on
the floor, where she nearly collapsed from weakness.
Then he turned to his two wives and grunted a demand
that she be prepared for him for later. He picked up
his spear then and moved out, going off to hunt.
Churla and Ghumne gazed down at the skinny female in
disgust, then sighed and set to work. They cut the
remains of the vines off her wrists and ankles and then
sat her back against the side of the hut. Churla brewed
up some special medicine that the clan long knew as a
powerful aphrodisiac.
It was not for Lunga of course, since both wives knew
of his enormous sexual drive and hunger. No, Lunga's
partner would need the brew to fortify her, to convince
her body to respond with all the necessary actions that
would minimize the trauma involved with mating with
Lunga.
Lunga was not named after an elephant merely because of
his body's size, but because of his "trunk," as the
Bantu laughingly called it. His male organ was a source
of much pride to he and his wives, being far larger
than any other man in the village possessed.
It was, had the Bantu any such measuring devices, well
over a foot long and six inches around, making it
somewhat thinner than a baseball bat. Many awed
comments were made about it on the occasions when he
was nude, such as the ceremonial potency dance.
When erect it became as hard as the hardest iron and
both wives had cause to worry about whether this small
framed female would survive the first introduction to
it.
Chapter 4
---------
Joe knelt behind a large coconut tree as the group of
Pounta warriors moved past. He held the Uzi in his
hands, almost not breathing until they had passed. An
encounter now would have made it extremely difficult to
continue the search, to say nothing of the danger to
his skin.
He heaved a sigh of relief when they'd passed, then
lowered the gun. Just as he did an arrow thunked into
the tree next to his head. He dove flat and rolled,
hearing several other arrows zipping past him as he
rolled behind a bush and pair of trees.
He peered through the bush, seeing nothing. Looking
back at the tree, he could see the direction the arrows
had come from, just behind that set of trees there, he
decided. Then one of the bushes shook and he fired an
entire clip into the area, shaking the gun from side to
side to spread out the impact area.
As soon as the clip was empty he jumped to his feet and
raced back the way he'd come along the trail. There
were no sounds behind him. Even if he'd hit one of the
natives and not killed him the man would not have made
a sound.
After thirty seconds, he turned and jumped as far as he
could off the trail, landing and rolling. Then he began
crawling as fast as he could without making noise. He
clutched the reloaded Uzi to his chest as he moved as
far from the trail as possible.
Once out of sight of it, he jumped to his feet and
struck out at an angle, moving swiftly, but quietly.
Nobody could outrun the natives of this area, so his
only hope lay in silence, in them not knowing exactly
where he was.
He cursed furiously as he moved. He was reasonably sure
he'd killed a few of the Pounta, if that was indeed
them in the bushes, and that meant they'd never stop
tracking him. This was going to make it damned hard to
find that girl, unless he brought an army back here.
He heard no movement behind him, but he knew better
than to take heart in that. The Pounta wouldn't make
any noise. His little jump off the trail wouldn't fool
them for more than a minute, and despite his
precautions as he moved, they would find his trail very
soon.
He moved between a pair of tall trees, then stopped. He
quickly reached back and pulled a thin spool of fishing
line from his pack, tying it and then stringing it
around one of the trees, through the bushes and around
the other tree trunk. He attached a grenade to either
end and then raced away, knowing they couldn't be far
behind now.
He was right, less than thirty seconds after he started
running there was a loud double explosion behind him.
He smiled grimly. If they hadn't heard him running,
they might have been watching the ground more
carefully. Now they'd have to slow down considerably to
avoid any similar traps he left.
That gave him time, which was what he really needed. He
was no slouch at losing pursuit, and given enough space
between him and his pursuers he was reasonably sure
he'd be able to lose them. The trouble was he was
heading directly away from the Bantu villages and
towards the Pounta
***
Kristen wrinkled her nose and pushed away the bowl but
the old fat woman insisted, pushing it back at her
again. She'd already drank a bowl of the foul smelling
stuff and didn't want any more, but couldn't seem to
get that across to the big woman.
The heat and smell of the first bowl was already making
her sick. Her chest felt on fire and her stomach
rumbled. Nevertheless, she began sipping on the bowl,
thinking forlornly about the cases of spring water in
the jeeps they'd brought.
Only after she finished the terrible stuff did the old
woman let go her hold on the bowl. She looked at
Kristen curiously, her fat hand feeling Kristen's
belly, then her chest, between her breasts, then her
forehead. She nodded then moved away, saying something
to the other fat woman.
The two of them picked up another pot of something.
Kristen groaned, praying it wasn't something else she
had to eat. She didn't think she could keep anything
else down. Her stomach was feeling more quivery and
unsettled by the minute.
But they didn't hold the bowl near her face, instead
they turned her over onto her hands and knees, pushing
her down and holding her there, though she didn't
resist. One of the fat women took a handful of thick
goo that looked like a kind of dark honey or molasses,
and rubbed it against Kristen's crotch.
Kristen was startled, but didn't move away. The fat
woman rubbed her hand up and down Kristen's pubic mound
for a few seconds, then slowly thrust a finger in
between Kristen's pussy lips. Kristen tried to move
away, but the other fat woman snapped something angrily
and Kristen trembled but held still.
The finger inside her pushed deep into her cunt tunnel,
then wriggled around, pressing first one side, then
another, then another, then another. It withdrew, then
slid in again. It withdrew, and then two fingers were
thrust into her.
Kristen could feel her pussy oily and wet with the
greasy slime she'd put on her cuntmound. The two
fingers pressed against opposite sides of her pussylips
and opened her up. Now two more fingers, then three
more were placed against her pussy mouth, all holding
her cunt wide open.
She whimpered in pain as the first fat woman held her
cunt wide open. The second fat woman slapped heaping
handfuls of that smelly oozing molasses stuff against
her, then began to thrust several fingers into her
pussy, rubbing the stuff into her good.
Kristen had no idea why they were doing that, in fact,
she was finding it increasingly hard to think anything
coherently. Her brain was in a strange muddle and she
didn't know why. Suddenly, she giggled, then stopped,
amused at nothing in particular.
The woman behind her continued to rub her fingers in
and out of her pussy tunnel. The second woman let her
cuntlips go and they closed tightly around the second
woman's three fingers, which continued to slide in and
out of her cunt tunnel.
Churla pulled her fingers free from the White girl's
love tunnel and stood up, wiping her fingers off on her
skirt. She accepted a drink of retgha from Ghumne and
watched the still kneeling girl. Beneath her legs, as
if she had released it from her bowels, was a wet pile
of Churla's brew. More continued to dribble out from
her love hole now that it was closed.
That was all right. Lunga would not be happy if the
girl was a mess down there. Churla gave her love hole a
few minutes to push out the excess liquid, then moved
back to her. By this time, the girl was humming softly
and moving her head from side to side like an imbecile.
Churla led her a few feet away from the pile of liquid,
then knelt beside her once again. She wiped the girl's
crotch dry, then began to rub her finger up and down
the little pink slit. She found the centerpiece of
woman's enjoyment, up at the top of the love-hole, and
began to manipulate it carefully.
Churla had done this a number of times before, always
with new virgin wives. Normally the Bantu girl's
married as soon as they began menstruating, and as such
the girl's were often of small size compared with the
men. The men married only when they were old enough to
pay the bride price to the girl's father.
The girl's humming became more highly pitched as Churla
worked on her love button. The girl's behind began to
push back against Churla's rubbing fingers. That was
good. Churla knew that the girl's own love hole would
now be manufacturing its own grease to ease Lunga's
passage.
She kept rubbing the little button though and the girl
pumped her behind out at her with more vigor. Churla
stopped then, though the girl continued to rut her ass
backwards for several seconds. Churla waited a time,
then began to rub the little button again.
By the time Lunga returned half an hour later, the
White girl was sobbing and shaking with need. Churla
had never brought a girl to such heights of need
before. Were it not for the immensity of Lunga's organ
she would not do so now. It was a cruel thing to do.
Though neither could understand the White girl's
language, they could both recognize the pleading and
begging and weeping, and felt sorry for the girl. They
both knew that it was for her own good however. She
would receive her reward many times over when Lunga
took her.
Churla gave her trembling body a final rub, then stood
up. She and Ghumne lifted the girl by the arms and
carried her to a big log that was covered with a
blanket. Even they could not take Lunga's massive
weight upon their body and of course, no one could
expect this slight creature to do so.
They set her down belly down, across the log. It was
almost too high for the girl's knees to touch the
ground, though she was not a short girl. They balanced
her carefully, with her top draped down one side and
her ass sticking up in the air.
Each pulled a leg apart, opening up what was now a
steaming volcanic pit in the girl's crotch. Lunga
nodded with a grunt and the two moved aside.
Lunga stripped off his weapons and loincloth, standing
there naked. He smiled happily as he looked down at the
trembling White buttocks looking up at him. His hand
went to his manhood, which was already at half
erection. Fat fingers shucked up and down as he knelt
behind the girl.
Very quickly, his manhood rose up between his legs
until it was pointing straight out towards the girl's
gleaming moist pussy mouth. Lung looked at her smoothly
rounded ass cheeks with interest, dropping his big
leathery hands on them and kneading the soft flesh.
He grumbled with pleasure, then took his right hand off
to fold it around his thick penis. He pushed the
uncircumcised head against the opening to the girl's
love hole and slowly pushed forward. At first, her love
hole flatly refused to open before his blunt nosed
organ.
He was a warrior however and used to challenges and
adversity. He pushed harder, then harder still. Slowly
his organ began to sink into the incredible tightness
between the girl's legs. As he did, she whined and
mewled and shook her body atop the log.
Kristen was dazed and unhappy. She didn't know what was
going on, but her body felt tense and wet and itchy.
The itch was most pronounced between her legs, being so
itchy and tingly that she kept trying to touch and
scratch it. The women wouldn't let her though.
The strangeness in her belly grew and grew and she
began to whine, then suddenly, she felt something push
firmly against her cunt opening. She mewled with
pleasure for firm pressure was what she instinctively
knew she needed to gain the release that would satisfy
her belly.
The firmness became greater and greater, and she felt a
pain, almost a tearing between her legs. She whimpered
in pain, trying to draw away, but was held in a grip of
iron. The pressure mounted and she felt her pussy lips
being forced unnaturally wide around something.
She kept trying to crawl up over the log and escape but
couldn't move an inch. Her pussy lips continued to
open, to spread as some massive thing pushed against
her. She felt it stab into her body, prying open the
front of her cunt tunnel as it drove into her.
Her elastic cunt spread wider than ever it had before,
the silky flesh of the tube straining to absorb the
giant girth of the object pushing into it. Thick gobs
of grease and girl juice eased the way as the huge cock
pushed deeper, a full three inches inside her now and
spreading her cunt wide, splitting her cheeks and body.
Lunga threw his hips forward and the girl screamed in
pain as three more inches jammed into her small belly.
She was even tighter than Mbinga had said. He swatted,
not with the effort but with the tremendous pressure
being exerted on the front of his manhood.
He pulled back an inch, then thrust forward, jamming
three more inches into her belly. He grumbled, the
sound like a lion, then drew back two more inches. He
lunged forward, his bloated organ stabbing in several
more inches.
Kristen trembled in shock, sure she was being killed.
Her entire lower body felt grossly swollen around some
massive log that had been forced up into her. She
hugged the log, her fingers White as she felt the log
press even deeper inside her.
She felt its end crushing up against her cervix with
tremendous force. Her belly ached and screamed, cramps
rolling through it as her organs were forced apart.
Even her pubic bones were slowly forced wider, as if
she were in childbirth.
Still the pressure continued as more and more of the
log was fed into her overstuffed fuck tunnel. She
gritted her teeth and closed her eyes, waiting for the
feeling of blood gushing from her crotch.
Then the thing jammed even deeper, seeming to push
right up into her stomach. She almost threw up, gagging
as the thing forced its way up the length of her body.
She wondered, dazedly, if it would actually go up
through her chest and into her brain.
But it moved no further. It held within her, unmoving.
She trembled around it, and felt it throb within her
body. She wondered what kind of a log or weapon they
had used that it should seem to breathe with a life of
its own.
Lunga rubbed his hands over the woman's widely parted
buttocks. At last, the entire length of his manhood
laid within her. His fat, heavy balls, the size of
tennis balls, hung low beneath his crotch, resting
against the side of the log as his manhood shaft laid
enfolded in the fiery heat and crushing embrace of this
White girl's love tunnel.
He waited patiently, knowing he must. Churla had been
only thirteen when he'd first taken her, and no bigger
than this. Ghumne had been the same age. He knew that
the woman beneath him was older than they had been,
though not quite as large as them at their first use.
He slowly pulled his manhood back, retreating only a
few inches for fear that the entire tunnel would
collapse behind him. He pushed forward again, then
retreated. Slowly he built up his speed as her muscles
surrendered beneath his immensity.
Certain now, that the girl would survive Lunga's
lovemaking, Churla and Ghumne left the hut to begin
making the afternoon meal. Lunga humped faster and
faster into the girl's love hole, his hands now moving
more freely across her wonderfully soft skin.
Kristen could hardly believe she was still alive. The
thing that had pushed into her cunt was now moving in
and out, fucking her like a cock. Wearily, she pulled
her head up and turned around to gaze behind her. There
was a giant behind her and he actually was fucking her.
She stared with disbelief at the size of his massive
prick as it moved in and out of her body. She could
hardly believe her cunt had managed to absorb something
that size without splitting wide open. There was no
sign of blood, though his cock was completely Black and
would have made that difficult to spot.
Weakly, her head fell back and she groaned as the giant
fucking her picked up the pace. His enormous cock was
thudding down into the end of her cunt-pit with
tremendous force, causing her pain. It felt like there
was a fist repeatedly punching her deep inside her
body.
Her cunt tunnel, so widely stretched, felt like it was
being rasped by sandpaper as the fat fuck-stick drove
in and out. Every hair on Lunga's shaft cut along the
super taut skin of her rubber cunt tunnel. The pain
however, began to ease, partly because her cunt had
somewhat adjusted, but mostly because her muscles had
given up and were no longer functioning.
She felt the repeated impact, not just of the giant's
cock tip against her cervix, but of his heavy belly and
hips against her ass and thighs. The impact was hard
enough to bruise her painfully, but there was nothing
she could do to stop it. In fact, the power of his
thrusting grew.
Now though, without the agony she had first
experienced, her body's previous sexual arousal began
to reassert itself. Her clitty was being buzzed
furiously by the thickness of the cock driving over it,
her cunt was being ploughed, skewered.
Her belly, already cramping and fluttering with the
deep and thick penetration, resumed its sensuous dance
as her already dazed mind suffered under new assaults
of feverish need. Her body shook, trembled. Already it
was jerking and humping as the giant cock threw it
forward and pulled it back, but it increased its
movement.
Then a minor orgasm swept through her, leaving her
breathless. Rather than calm her body down it merely
stoked the fires higher. She was burning up with sexual
fever, her body bubbling and boiling as her nerve
endings twisted and quivered.
A second orgasm hit her, wrenching her reality and
making her cry out at its sudden shocking force. Her
body shook and trembled, and her ass actually pushed
back against the monster prong fucking her. Again, she
clutched the log, now holding it as a child caught in a
whirlwind, seeking an anchor to reality.
Her body convulsed and she howled in torment and
delight. A fireball of sexual ecstasy exploded in her
lower belly, sending hot steaming streamers shooting
out into her body. She was being royally fucked, and in
the dim recesses of her mind knew it.
The giant's fingers hauled her upwards, lifting her off
the log and carrying her across the floor to a bed of
straw. She was dropped back down onto her knees again,
and the reaming continued, with even more force. Now
the huge fingers, which totally encircled her belly,
hauled her back against the fuck-pole rutting her.
Her body was jerked back and forth like a rag doll, her
head flying up and down with the sudden changes in
direction, her breasts whipping back and forth. Spit
drooled out of her gaping mouth as she stared at multi
colored lights bursting before her eyes.
She came again, her entire body seared by a super-nova,
blasting through her. Sexual electricity ripped up and
down her spine, causing muscle convulsions. Her back
arched, then began to bounce up and down wildly.
Something huge and hard and heavy was slamming into her
buttocks with terrible force, but the feeling was
hardly noticeable beneath the impaling power of the
mighty cock within her. Giant fingers like sausages
whipped around her breasts then squeezed them with an
awful force, making her screech in response.
Her chest exploded with agony and ecstasy, her breasts
burning and throbbing and rippling with sexual
electricity. Fat fingers caught her nipples and twisted
them, pulled them downwards, distorting her breasts.
The nipples were stretched out a full two inches from
her tits, almost touching the ground beneath her.
Then she came again, the top of her head blowing off as
her body flailed and writhed and danced in madness. Her
head lashed from side to side and her entire nervous
system screamed and flared out. Then, just before she
lost consciousness, she felt an immense flood of
liquids gushing into her belly. She knew it was her
blood and that she had just died, but she died happily.
Lunga felt his seed shooting into the White girl in
great fat heaping wads of shiny white potency. Her body
collapsed after a final wailing shriek as he emptied
himself into her. He gave a satisfied sigh, and pulled
his fingers from around her waist.
Her arms collapsed, dropping her head and chest down
onto the ground. Her knees slipped apart and her ass
slowly sank down, her cunt sliding over his softening
cock before finally pulling free and dropping her flat
on the dirt. Thick gobs of White sperm dribbled out of
the still open love hole, but Lunga knew enough had
been pumped into her to do the job.
***
Joe giggled weakly as the sound of the distant
explosion echoed through the jungle. He'd started
laying false trails hours ago, finally creating enough
of a gap between him and his pursuers to plant the thin
wire, then double far back, climb a tree and climb and
jump from branch to branch through the densely packed
growth for a hundred yards.
The explosion signaled the Pounta had found the end of
his trail miles distant and heading in the opposite
direction. Now, unless he hit bad luck, he was safe, at
least from that group. He rested his weary frame for a
half hour, then rose and began making his way back
north.
By darkness he'd recovered most of the ground he'd lost
during the morning's pursuit. He slept in a tree, then
continued at dawn, leaving that particular tribe's
boundary a few hours later. He reached the first of the
Bantu villages, and after a nervous few minutes, was
welcomed generously enough.
He had lunch with the village chieftain, who professed
no knowledge about a White skinned female in this area
and looked at Joe like he was crazy when the White
guide tried to explain what the color pink was.
Joe managed to gain a guide further north, to the
Clantae village a dozen miles away, reaching there by
nightfall. The girl wasn't there either, much to his
disgust and weariness. He decided to camp there for the
night.
Around the fire, he told the chief of his trouble with
the Pounta and how he'd escaped them. The chief and his
warriors howled with laughter as he described the
Pounta being blown up by his explosive booby traps. The
chief called him "Loitiiea," which meant roughly,
tiger-man, and presented him with one of his daughters
for the night.
The girl, a young thing who's body still bore the
slimness of girlhood, but also the wide hips and
rounded breasts of womanhood, giggled at the sight of
his reddened prick. Her body was a gleaming, shiny
Black in the dim light as he slowly caressed her body.
Her small brown nipples tasted of smoky meat as he
suckled gently. His tongue slid downward along her
belly and then in between her legs. She allowed him to
part her thighs, glancing in astonishment as his tongue
began to move up and down her slit.
He slid a finger inside her, and began to pump it in
and out as his tongue found and began to slid back and
forth across her clit. She was extremely curious as
well as wary, but relaxed completely when the pleasure
began to course through her body.
She whimpered, murmuring in wonderment as her body
steamed with sexual heat. The Bantu were hardly the
world's greatest lovers. The men simply drove it in and
humped for a couple of minutes until they came. Orgasm
was not totally unknown among women, but seldom
happened in actual sex. As for masturbation, it was
technically forbidden to women, though the older ones
all did it from time to time. This girl, though, seemed
not to have. Her eyes were wide with excitement and
bewildered pleasure as Joe's tongue whipped back and
forth across her clit.
Then her back arched. "Oooooooooohhhhhhh!" she gasped,
pushing her small cunt up against his face. His fingers
slid in and out of the little pink slit as his tongue
writhed against her.
When she stopped shaking, he climbed up the length of
her body and drove his cock into her tight pink hole.
She threw her arms around him and kissed him, their
lips meeting wetly and forcefully. His hands went under
her ass and jerked her up against him as he began to
pump into her with excited speed.
Then he came, his cock spewing out his jism as she
writhed in pleasure under him. He sucked hard on her
nipples, his hands fondling her ass as he humped
continuously into her pink hole.
***
Kristen was awakened by Lunga's wives, who slapped her
face and tossed water on her to bring her to
consciousness. Churla rubbed her hand against Kristen's
cunt gently, smiling in sympathy and saying something
Kristen couldn't understand.
They helped the teenager to her feet and walked her
outside into the sun, sitting her down on the ground as
they sat on low stools beside her. They began sewing
hides together, making a skirt for someone. Kristen
tried to sit, but couldn't do it comfortably. Her
behind and cunt hurt too much when she put pressure on
them.
One of the women said something to the other, and they
both looked at Kristen and laughed. She flushed in
embarrassment. Then one of them got up and picked up a
basket of some dirty clothing and pulled on Kristen's
arm.
Naked, she followed the woman down the path to the
stream, where the woman dumped the basket, then picked
up a sarong. She brought it over to a rock and dumped
it into the water, then started rubbing it on the rock.
She motioned to Kristen, who stood beside her watching.
Then she moved away and pushed Kristen towards the
thing, obviously wanting her to do it. She sighed and
began rubbing the thing against the rock as the woman
stood by and watched in satisfaction. The woman
produced another wad of leafy gooey stuff, like the
women had used to clean Kristen earlier.
She rubbed it against the cloth and signaled Kristen to
keep rubbing it as she watched. There were several
other rocks and the other woman began to clean clothes
on one, as Kristen cleaned them on the other.
After about an hour, she found herself wondering why
these people didn't get a washing machine, then smiled
at her own foolishness. The fat woman saw her smile and
smiled back, saying something happily.
Kristen followed her back into the camp, looking around
more carefully than she had before. She noted that
there were several nude people in the camp besides
herself. Most were women, but a couple were men. She
guessed that these too were prisoners of some sort.
In fact, they were slaves, as she was. But the word
slave simply didn't enter her mind. She thought of
herself as a prisoner, that was all. The fat women
taught her how to pound meet with a rock, for what
purpose she didn't know, and had her stirring a deep
smelly pot of something.
After that, she began to sweep out the hut with a rough
broom thing, then carried in fresh straw from a pile
under a lean-to. The giant man came into the hut just
then. He pushed her down onto her knees and knelt
behind her.
Kristen whined in anxious worry and tensed up. He
pulled her legs apart and then slowly forced his huge
organ into her body again, pounding furiously against
her until she cried out and collapsed with exhaustion.
When he'd poured a load of hot cum into her, he left.
She was given more clothing to wash, then a small bowl
of goop to eat for lunch, after which she had to follow
a girl of about ten to a small pasture where there were
goats. The girl showed her how to milk the goats, and
despite her revulsion, Kristen had had to sit down and
begin to fondle the thing's teats, sending milk
shooting into a wood barrel.
By dinner, she was exhausted. She had to keep working
though, as the two fat women, their numerous children
and the giant man who'd raped her, all ate.
When they had finished, she was given a bowl of the
same sludge she'd eaten before, along with a bowl
containing the scraps from their own meal. She looked
at it in surprise and disgust, but she was ravenous
after working all day and had no choice but to eat the
partly burned, partly undercooked, cold meat. In fact,
she wolfed it down quickly. Mildly surprised that she
could even force it into her mouth.
Shortly after that, one of the fat ladies led her
across the village to a small hut. This one was much
more strongly built than others, and had a door of
sorts, made of strong young tree branches lashed
together. She was pushed inside and the thing closed
behind her.
Churla pushed the bolt into place across the slave
shack and gave a sigh of relief. Now she could go back
to her hut and get some sleep. She glanced behind her
as she walked away, hoping the White girl would be all
right in there.
Normally, slave women slept in their owner's hut. Only
slave men were kept in the strongly locked little
shack. However, out of kindness for her body's needs,
they had put her in with the two slave men. She had
only been taken twice during the day and they worried
that was not enough.
Lunga's huge girth could not be used by her always
though. After all, Churla and Ghumne needed its use as
well. From Mbinga's description, the girl needed to be
used many times, and Churla was confident the slave men
would see to her.
Chapter 5
---------
Joe bid farewell to the Claintu village and headed east
towards the Minra clan village thirty kilometers away.
Again, he was accompanied by a guide, a thin, grinning
teenager who moved along far to cockily for Joe's
comfort.
Close to the village, okay, but after half a dozen
kilometers he began to worry if the boy might be
showing off in a rather dangerous way. He had to
continuously shush the boy as he insisted on talking in
overly loud whispers.
It was more in resignation, then in surprise then, that
he saw a blur next to him and then watched a spear pin
the boy to a tree. The boy was looking at it in
astonishment as several more spears chunked into the
ground and bush around him.
Joe dove behind another tree, then edged around towards
were the spears were coming from. There was no sign of
movement and no sound from whoever had fired the arrow.
He knew the general direction and that was all. Then
the bushes suddenly jerked apart and a dozen screaming
Pounta warriors raced forward.
Joe brought the Uzi up and sprayed bullets towards
them, felling several, then he swung the butt around to
knock aside a stabbing spear, kicking the man in the
crotch and shooting two others as they approached from
the other side.
He shot the first warrior then, jumping atop a low hill
and firing wildly behind him. Half a dozen feet away
another warrior slammed his spear deep into the Bantu
boy's belly.
Joe raced through the bush, reloading as he dodged
spears. He kept spraying the gun behind him as he ran,
forcing the pursuing warriors to dive to cover. Then a
long flying spear caught him in the side, bowling him
over.
The surge of adrenaline he was riding allowed him to
jerk it out, almost screaming as blood welled from the
wound. He tore a spare shirt from his pack and wadded
it up, pressing it against the hole, then getting up
and staggering off.
Most of the warriors were dead behind him, and he shot
two more who wouldn't quit before he left the last of
them behind. He managed to stop finally, and pull
bandages and disinfectants from his pack, carefully
bandaging the wound before falling unconscious.
***
Kristen couldn't see anything in the darkened hut, but
then she heard, and sensed movement. She was standing
with her back against the door and she pushed against
it worriedly. It failed to budge. There was some light
in the hut from barred windows high up, but there was
nothing to see.
Then something moved into a section of light. She
heaved a sigh of relief. It was only a man. Two men,
she corrected herself. Both tall and Black, and looking
at her with astonishment on their faces. One of them
said something to the other.
Kristen was surprised at the words, for she thought
she'd come to recognize the sing-song language of the
people who'd captured her and this was different. The
men moved closer, and she saw that they were naked.
They must be prisoners like her, of course, she chided
herself.
"Who are you?" she asked, hoping they would speak
English. They looked back blankly. "My name is
Kristen." She patted her chest. "Kristen."
"What does she say?" Craw asked.
"I do not speak her language," Sno replied.
"Why is she here?"
"Why would I know."
"It has been long since I have had a woman."
"You may never have another if her master catches you."
"Why would they put her in here if not as a reward to
us?"
"I do not know all the ways of the Bantu. Perhaps it is
a test."
"If so, I intend to pass it," Craw said, a long smile
appearing on his face as his eyes slid up and down the
light skinned female standing before him.
"They may kill you."
"I am tired of this anyway. At least my member will
enjoy itself before I die." He reached for the female
and drew her in close to him, his hands running up and
down her body. Her skin was amazingly soft.
"I have never taken a White woman before," he breathed.
Kristen had no idea what the two were talking about. It
was plain what the first one wanted however, when his
hand began to caress her breasts. She stood
acquiescently as his hands roamed her lithe body,
sliding down between her legs to cup her pubic mound
firmly.
The man looked at her, as if wondering what she would
do. Kristen looked back blankly. She had no idea of the
low status these men held, and was afraid to resist in
any way. What was the point, anyway?
The man pushed her down on her back on a pile of straw
and lay down on top of her. She spread her legs
resignedly and felt his hardness press against her
belly. His mouth slurped around her right nipple and
his teeth chewed lightly. She winced, for his teeth
were odd and sharp.
Then she grunted a she felt his cock pushed into her
pussy hole. Her sore pussy lips spread and his member
pushed into her. Her cunt adjusted quickly, despite her
lack of sexual excitement. Perhaps the long fat cock of
the giant had loosened her cunt forever.
She grunted in disgust as the man's mouth came down on
hers, his lips rubbing forcefully, and his tongue
sliding into her own mouth. His hands were all over
her, like mad, uncontrolled animals, they were fast and
rough as they moved from place to place, squeezing and
fondling her.
His hands slid under her then, cupping her ass cheeks
as he began to stroke into her. Like most of the
natives she'd been raped by, he had not a trace of
expertise, at least as she'd come to know it. There was
no gentleness in his fucking, instead it was a harsh,
fast, brutal fucking.
He humped furiously into her, his cock slicing in and
out of her pained body. His hips smashed down into
hers, his pubic bone cracking against her crotch and
lower belly as he rutted against her. She felt the
speed of his cock burning up her cunt, sending pain
shooting into her belly, but knew she could do nothing
about it.
His breathing became faster and faster as his
excitement mounted. His cock pumped brutally, his body
hammering down into the slim White girl. Kristen's ass
was bouncing up and down on the ground, in the grip of
the man's iron fingers.
He jerked her groin up to meet his brutal downward
thrusts, sending his cock shooting down her fuck tunnel
with powerful force. He began grunting with the effort
as he humped against her. The tiny shack resounded with
his gasps and grunts, and the wet slapping sound of his
body coming against hers.
His cock pistoned back and forth inside Kristen with
incredible speed, and her body was hammered repeatedly
by the brutal pounding of his groin into her thighs and
crotch. His lips were bruisingly demanding as they
roved hungrily against hers.
They moved all along her throat, stopping every few
inches. Wherever they stopped his sharply pointed teeth
came out and nipped her tender flesh repeatedly. He
gripped her twin mammary mounds and squeezed them up
and together, then rubbed his face back and forth
across them.
His hands seized her head firmly and pressed his lips
against hers, his tongue wriggling around in her mouth
as his breath was forced into her and then sucked back
out. He ground his hips into her, his prong buried deep
in her silky fuck-tunnel.
Kristen moaned, her body becoming aroused despite her
unhappiness. All her resistance to fucking had been
broken down in the past days. She was no longer
embarrassed or even bothered much by strange men taking
her without her leave and consent.
Her body, without the resistance of her mind, responded
as a woman's body will, her clit, repeatedly hammered,
rubbed and sawed by the man's cock and belly, send hot
quivering blasts of sexual bliss through her belly.
Her pussy, stuffed and pumped, sent its own steamy
message of enjoyment. Her breasts, sucked, man-handled,
squeezed and kneaded, their small pink nipples chewed
and bothered, became hot and swollen with sexual heat,
the nipples hard and erect.
Tentatively, at first, she began to respond, to push
back against his pounding fuck-tool. Her heels ground
into the dirt, pushing against it as if to lift herself
upward onto that plunging organ. She drew her heels up,
then raised her legs into the air in short little
bounces.
As the hard, savage fucking continued, she brought her
legs up around the tribesman, hugging him to her as she
opened her crotch to even deeper penetration. Her moans
were added to his grunts as the steely cock continued
its' rasping pump.
She whimpered in ecstasy as she felt his cock-tip high
in her belly, and ground herself harder on it. His
hands came down around her ass cheeks, pulling her even
tighter against his crotch as his excitement became
uncontrollable.
He pounded his cock down her slimy wet cunt tunnel his
body sweating and gleaming in the moonlight coming from
the window. Her fingers dug into his back, clawing at
him as she began to cum. Then she threw back her head,
her mouth opening in a silent gasp of delight.
Her head thrashed from side to side and her body jerked
and shivered as an orgasm washed over her. All
awareness disappeared as her cunt flared and exploded
around the humping, pistoning organ within it. Then it
pulled and sucked ferociously on the moving cock and
long wet wads of sperm gushed forth.
"She gave you a good ride!" Sno said, appreciatively.
"Let me use her now."
"There is much time," Craw groaned, laying flat atop an
unmoving Kristen. He gave a final gasp, letting out a
great breath of air, then rolled off the girl. Sno
quickly took his place.
Kristen felt another cock pushed into her cunt. She lay
in a daze, half conscious. Her eyes were closed as the
second man settled atop her and began to pump. She
didn't move, lying spread-eagled on the straw covered
ground as he eagerly humped her.
She slowly opened her eyes, watching the man's
straining face as he humped down into her crotch-hole.
She could feel his cock working its way back and forth
and could feel it was thicker, though shorter than the
first man's.
She lay there, tiredly enjoying the second fuck, her
cunt relaxing also at first. His mouth came against
hers and she kissed him back, lightly. His hands
squeezed her breasts, then his mouth lowered onto her
right nipple and bit sharply. She moaned at the sudden
sharp pain.
A small drop of dark appeared on the nipple, outlined
in the shaft of moonlight, and the man's mouth closed
around it, sucking fiercely. Kristen felt him sucking
on her blood and wondered if he was some kind of
cannibal. Somehow the idea excited her.
Or perhaps it was the steady sucking and chewing on her
outraged nipple, or the furious rutting cock within her
fuck-box. Her body began to steam with sexual heat once
more and her crotch slowly began its up and down dance
against the stranger's fucking.
She felt her frame seized in the carnal embrace of
sexual arousal, and once more gave herself over to its
embrace.
By morning, Kristen was an utterly exhausted wreck. For
Sno and Craw had been without a woman for more than two
years. They took her over and over and over again,
seemingly tireless, and her body responded each time.
She lost track of the orgasms that had racked her, of
the gut wrenching spasms that had torn her belly open,
and the groaning gasps of pleasure she had uttered.
Unfortunately, she was hardly permitted an hour's
sleep, when the fat woman came for her. She was brought
back to the same hut as yesterday, given a little
gruel, and then placed on her knees as the giant took
her again. His huge organ had pounded into her
relentlessly, finally sending her into a shrieking
orgasm that dropped her unconscious to the hut floor.
She had been wakened and set to cleaning the hut, then
the surrounding area. After that, many other tasks
awaited her, from gutting fish, to drying meat and
hides. Nor were the Bantu inconsiderate enough as to
let her go without rutting.
Though the slaves were busy in the daytime, Lunga had
considerately offered her favors to his friends. Every
hour or so, one would show up and either push Kristen
to her knees where she stood, or pull her into his hut,
or just into some bushes. Then he would enter her body
and fuck her furiously.
By nightfall, she was barely able to walk, and
practically fell onto the straw after the fat woman
placed her in the shack again. The two slaves were
waiting for her, though, their lust hardly sated at all
by the previous night's work.
Again they took her repeatedly, one after the other,
only tiring towards dawn, for they had heavy work to do
in the day. Kristen's fuck tunnel was more heavily used
than a forty-second street hooker's, and was beginning
to chafe and bleed from overuse.
Her eyes were dull, exhausted slits, and her body
became whiter than ever as she slouched and slumped her
way through her daily tasks. She fell asleep while
milking the goats and was slapped awake by the annoyed
boy tending her.
***
Joe woke up in the night. He felt better, the pain
still there, but diminished considerably. He didn't
move at first, taking in his surroundings. He was lucky
some animal hadn't come upon him in the night and
started eating, he thought grimly.
Slowly, he sat up, then staggered erect. His head swam,
but he held still and the dizziness passed. Money ain't
worth this, he thought, miserably. He sat back down
again, then unwrapped his arm and looked at it. It
didn't look too bad. Didn't seem infected or anything.
He carefully rewrapped it in fresh bandages and then
ate some dried food from his pack. It was nourishing if
tasteless and he felt considerably strengthened. Now
where the fuck am I, he wondered, bleakly.
He tried to replay the events of today, especially
concerning the direction he'd run. He couldn't be that
far from the village, a few klicks at best. He could
probably make it back by morning. How they would
receive him, considering the boy who'd gone with him
was dead, he wasn't sure and didn't intend to risk it.
He knew the general direction of the next Bantu
village, and now was probably a good time to head for
it. By dawn, the Pounta would be on his trail, and he
was in no condition to be running. He slid his pack
over his shoulder and set off slowly.
Luckily there was a full moon out. Still, he kept
careful watch on the ground as he moved, and still
managed to trip a number of times. He wasn't making
much progress, so concentrated instead on obliterating
all trace of himself.
After several hours, he was exhausted. He found a tree
and climbed upward, then settled in for a nap as the
sky began to light around him.
His watch alarm woke him several hours later. He felt
stiff and sore, as he always did when sleeping like
this. His arm felt sore, but no worse than before,
which hopefully meant it wasn't going to start turning
yellow and green.
He lowered himself to the ground and set off again,
this time making better time. He encountered no signs
of the Pounta, and by mid day was approaching the Bantu
village. A mile from its outskirts he was challenged by
a sentry and yelled back a greeting in Bantu.
Twenty minutes later he was standing before the chief,
who, like the previous one, wanted to know all about
his adventures with the Pounta. He sighed quietly
realizing the necessity of the tail. It would only
serve to ingratiate him with the Bantu if he told them
of all the Pounta he'd killed.
Finally, he was able to get to the point and ask about
Kristen.
"No. No White girls here. I have not seen a White woman
since..." the chief thought carefully. "Not for many
years anyhow." He finished, lamely.
"None of your people have heard of a White girl being
taken by neighboring villages?" he asked, wearily.
The chief shrugged, then called out the question to
those surrounding them. There was a chorus of negative
responses, then one man, who had been out hunting,
trotted into the village with his catch of snakes and
overheard.
"You wish to know of a White woman with the Bantu?" he
asked.
"You know something?" Joe asked, eagerly.
The man looked at the chief, who shrugged.
"There is a White woman at Retewq," he said.
"For how long?"
"Not long. A few days. She is very sweet to look upon,
though skinny. Her hair is an odd shade."
"That sounds like her!" Joe gasped.
"Is she one of yours? She has a strange appetite."
"Strange?"
"They say she must receive a man's organ very often or
else she suffers pain."
"Huh?"
"That is what they say," the man shrugged.
"Where is Retewq?"
"Not far. Only a half day's journey north."
"You can not set out now. You would arrive after dark
and be shot by the sentries," the chief said. Joe
looked at his watch and realized that was the truth.
"You stay with us the night. I have two lovely
daughters to offer you," the Chief beamed, throwing his
arms around the giggling young women as they looked
shyly at Joe.
"Well now. That's right kind of you, Chief," Joe
grinned.
He stayed with the girls that night, surprising himself
by taking both twice. Like most of the African girls'
he'd had, they were astonished at his foreplay, and
would probably be more than a little displeased with
their next lovers.
After a hard day's march, he arrived at the environs of
Retewq. As at the previous village, he was challenged
and then welcomed into the village. He trotted in
behind the young sentry, wading through a small stream
and then climbing a low hill at the edge of a clearing.
He stopped suddenly, attracted by something moving only
a few feet away. His eyes opened wide as he peered
around a bush. There she was! Kristen was on her hands
and knees, her legs apart and a look of satisfaction on
her face. A dark skinned Bantu warrior knelt behind her
his cock plunging back and forth in her cunt.
The man felt Joe's eyes on him and looked up. He smiled
and waved. "She will be free for your use in a few
moments, Stranger, should you want her."
"Uh, thank you," Joe stammered, watching the man,
matter-of-factly return to his fucking. Kristen didn't
even look up. Her eyes were closed and her jaw hung
low. Her fat breasts were swinging back and forth
beneath her as she humped her ass back against the
man's plunging cock-strokes.
"This way, Joe-boss," his young guide gestured. Joe
took a last look at the odd scene and followed him up
the path to the village. A short time later he was
explaining his journey again to the local chief,
stressing the many Pounta he'd killed to reach here.
In the midst of the explanation, Kristen walked past,
naked, her arms laden with hides. She didn't notice him
again, her shoulders slumped and her eyes on the
ground.
"We did think it strange, she was out on her own," the
Chief admitted, glaring at Mbinga.
"I was very close by, Chief. If your man hadn't been on
a swift river, I'd have caught up long since."
"Still, the matter is out of my hands," the Chief
shrugged. "You may kill Mbinga for stealing the woman,
but she has been properly sold to Lunga, who bought her
not knowing of any prior ownership. If you want her
back, you will have to buy her from Lunga or kill him."
Joe looked at the one called Lunga without a great deal
of encouragement. The guy was huge!
"I'm sure we can work something out," he said.
"That is between the two of you. For now, you are an
honored guest." He gestured at the woman and food was
brought. Joe sat down, knowing he had to observe the
amenities first.
He ate gladly, sick of dried food. During the meal
which Lunga shared, Kristen came out from a hut and
Lunga called to her. He had her serve him, looking at
Joe challengingly, then slapped her on the behind,
setting her cheeks jiggling as she moved on some
errand.
After dinner, she moved quickly to Lunga, who nodded
and tuned, gesturing to his hut. Joe followed him
across the village until the big man sat down on a
rough stool in front of the hut. Joe sat down next to
him as one of the man's wives brought water.
They both sipped the water, a nominal welcome to his
home, then Joe settled down to business.
"I hope this skinny, weak woman has not been a burden
on you, Lunga," he said.
"No. No burden at all. I have enjoyed her love-tunnel
enormously. It is very tight and friendly."
"Yes. That is true. Still, she can surely not compare
to your wives."
Since his wives were standing behind him, Lunga could
hardly disagree.
"Being as weak as she is, she will not long survive in
Retewq."
Lunga frowned and one of his wives prodded him with her
fingers.
"See. I told you."
"Shut up, woman."
"She is, as you can tell, of little real use in
chores," Joe said, playing to the women. "She knows
nothing about cooking or cleaning or any of the womanly
duties."
"She gives a man a long hard ride," Lunga growled.
"This is a woman's first duty."
"True. True. Still, in a very few days she will waste
away until she sickens and then dies. Then all your
money will be gone and you will have nothing to show
for it."
"Why do you want her if she is so sickly?" Lunga
demanded.
"Well, I will take her back to her people, where she
will not sicken. There she will be happy and healthy
once more."
"Woman. Come here." Lunga called into the hut. Kristen
emerged a moment later and Lunga pulled her down to her
knees beside him. His hands stroked her head, as if
petting a dog, then cupped her breasts and squeezed
them.
"And how much will you give me for this worthless
woman?" he asked.
"I hear from Mbinga that you paid two goats for her,"
Joe said. Lunga frowned and glared across the village
towards the man.
"This is true," he admitted.
"I do not have any animals with me, of course," Joe
said. "But I do have the government paper that you can
exchange for livestock with others."
Lunga nodded. He knew about money. Some of the
villagers had been to the city, or to the farming towns
not far south of the river.
"And how much of this paper will you give me?" he
asked, stroking Kristen's breasts and belly.
"I will give you enough to purchase three goats," Joe
said.
"Three goats. That is a lot for one skinny woman."
"Yes, I know. But I can see that Lunga is a great
warrior, and he deserves a high price."
"My women have spent many hours training this female in
woman's duties. That is now wasted," Lunga observed.
"Ahh, but three goats. Think of what you may trade for
that."
"Not as much as four goats."
"Four goats! That is too high a price for this one."
"Not for a man who has come so far and been to so many
villages in search of her," Lunga observed shrewdly.
"You are a very smart man, Lunga," Joe sighed. "I will
have to see if I have enough money." He pulled out his
wallet and carefully counted the money in there,
knowing how much he had but putting on a show. Finally
he sighed and looked up glumly.
"You take the very food from my mouth, Lunga," he
protested.
"Ahh, but such fine skin and soft flesh is worth it."
Lunga smiled, sliding his hand down between Kristen's
legs and squeezing her crotch. They had been talking in
Bantu, of course. Kristen had never even looked at him
during the conversation, her dull eyes staring at the
ground.
Now she groaned low in her throat and arched her back,
pushing her crotch forward. Joe watched in disbelief as
she rubbed her pussy back and forth across Lunga's
motionless hand, her eyes closed.
"See how much she wants my manhood?" Lunga's teeth
gleamed. "Never have I met a woman like her. In truth,
it is proving time consuming to satisfy her. She gets
little done since she is always on her knees."
"Then we have a deal?"
Lunga looked regretfully at Kristen, who was still
humping against his hand in slow, grinding movements,
her head rolling around weakly.
"I will miss the tightness of her love hole." He
sighed. "But we have a deal." He spit on his hand and
held it out. Joe did the same and they shook hands.
Chapter 6
--------
Joe handed the money over to Lunga, who gave Kristen's
crotch a final squeeze, then took his hand away.
"She is yours." he said, eyeing the money dubiously. He
knew what it could bring, but didn't really like the
stuff. He looked back at Kristen, who was still humping
slightly, her own hands coming down to her crotch.
"She is in need again." he observed. "I do not envy you
having to return with her on your own. Perhaps I should
accompany you so you are not overly tired by her."
"I'll manage," Joe assured him.
"So you say, yet she is obviously in need here. Will
you not relieve her?"
"Uhhh..."
"You may use my hut," he said, generously. He clapped
his hands and one of his fat wives lifted Kristen to
her feet and led her inside. Joe tried to think of a
way of avoiding it, knowing the girl would probably be
pissed off when she regained her senses, but couldn't
find any alternative.
Where the Bantu had come to the conclusion that Kristen
needed a rodding every so often, he couldn't guess, but
they'd think him a poor master if he left her in pain.
He sighed and followed the girl into the hut, where the
fat woman was placing her on her hands and knees.
Kristen assumed the position eagerly, spreading her
legs apart and raising her ass into the air. Joe's cock
gave a lurch as he eyed her naked crotch and its
glistening fuck-hole.
He got to his knees behind her, his hands slowly
running across her taut ass flesh. "Oh well," he said
to himself. He opened his pants and drew out his
bulging cock, pointing it at Kristen's cunt sheath.
"Well, baby. I told you I'd ream you out after I got my
hands on you. I just didn't think it would really
happen so literally," he thought.
He pressed his cockhead against her tightly closed
cuntlips and she moaned in response, pushing back
against him. He had no idea what had happened to her
mind since he'd last seen her, but figured she'd
probably be seeing a shrink for the rest of her life.
He pressed his cock between her lips, forcing them
open, then thrust forward, driving himself deep into
her cunt tube with a single stroke. Her chest swelled
suddenly at a quick intake of breath, then she arched
her back and almost purred in pleasure.
He pushed forward, jamming his cock fully into her
tight, warm fuck hole until his balls rested against
her. His hands slid up and down her sides, from her
hips to her armpits, then up onto her shoulders. He
ground himself into her, twisting his cock around
inside her.
Then he drew slowly back, his hands sliding under her
and squeezing her round tit meat. He began to fuck her,
using slow, even strokes, using the full length of his
cockshaft as he rode back and forth in her belly.
Lunga came in while he was rutting her and watched
nonchalantly. Joe was used to the ease with which these
people treated sex, but he was still bothered at the
audience. Still, Kristen's box was stroking against his
shaft with too much pressure and heat for him to pause.
He thrust into her again and again, his cock sliding in
and out of her pierced fucklips as he rode her like a
bitch dog. His hips moved faster and faster, sending
his cock pounding down the tight silky fuck-tunnel to
the bottom.
He felt his sex juices bubbling around in his crotch
and knew he would cum soon. He knew that Kristen was on
the verge of cumming too, and had to wait until then,
otherwise the Bantu watching would think him weak. He
clenched his jaw as he fucked into her, pressing his
cock downward against her clitty.
He slid his hand down beneath her, stroking her belly,
then sliding it in between her legs to manipulate her
clit. She gave a loud gasp and redoubled her own
pounding movements, sending her ass slapping back
against his thrusting cock-rod.
Then she came, arching her back and shaking her head
from side to side as she gurgled in pleasure. Her body
shook and trembled as the orgasm blasted through her
and her cunt clenched and unclenched around Joe's
stabbing cock.
She drew him in tight and his cum spewed out into her
belly, bubbling down her fuck tunnel to her cervix and
on into her womb. His fingers gripped her hair, drawing
her head backwards as he bit deep into the side of her
throat and sucked hard.
Finally he stopped and pulled his softening cock out of
the sagging girl's sheath.
"Would you mind if I rode her a final time?" Lunga
asked deferentially. His cock was sticking straight out
from his crotch and Joe was amazed at the sight of it.
To turn him down would be considered awfully
unfriendly.
He waved and nodded, crawling a few feet away and
sitting down. Lunga quickly knelt behind Kristen and
held his enormously thick cock in his fist. Joe stared
at it in awe as it pushed against Kristen's crotch
hole. If that was what she'd been getting for the past
week, no wonder she was insensible.
He watched in stunned amazement as her cuntlips spread
wider and wider to engulf the massive organ. Then it
slid into her, inch by inch by inch, until Lunga's
belly was pressed against Kristen's sweet round teenage
ass. Joe shook his head slowly, wondering where she'd
found room for it all.
Without preamble, Lunga began to pump into her. His
strokes were powerful and savage, his body hammering
into Kristen's ass cheeks relentlessly. The girl
shivered and shook and bucked like a bronco ready to
throw its rider. She groaned and grunted and shook as
another cum roared through her.
Joe watched her eyes roll back in her head, watched her
body stiffen, then shake and shudder repeatedly. He
watched Lunga's gigantic cock rutting brutally into her
slit, spearing her with its immense size and brutal
force. His own cock stiffened again.
Ignoring her orgasm, Lunga continued to ride her,
rodding his fat cock back and forth, driving it deep
into the young woman's belly as he drove his hips in
and out. After long minutes of fucking, Kristen came
again, this time grunting in almost animal like
madness.
Lunga jammed his cock deep within her quivering body
and held still. Joe could imagine the fat wads of cum
blasting into the girl's belly as Lunga came. Kristen
whined and yowled like a stuck cat, then her head and
body began thrashing madly.
Lunga pulled his cock back slowly, a look of satisfied
bliss on his face. He held it for a moment, then drove
deep into her body again, almost lifting her from the
ground. He did it a second time, then a third. Finally,
he pulled out, leaving Kristen to sag to the ground,
almost unconscious.
The Bantu found a native skirt and hide top for the
girl, and gave Joe the hide slippers they'd made her.
Joe left the village, waving behind at the villagers as
he led Kristen forward, the rope around her throat.
Out of sight of the village, he untied the rope, then,
reconsidering, slid it around her narrow waist and
retied it, afraid she'd wander off. They journeyed for
a few miles before stopping.
"Kristen," he said, in English.
She looked up dull eyed.
"Remember me? Joe?"
Kristen continued to stare at him.
"I'm going to bring you back to your mother and
father."
"Uhhnnggghhh?"
"Your mother and father. Do you understand me?"
She nodded.
"Say something then," he said, in exasperation.
She didn't say anything.
"Kristen? You remember who I am?"
"J-Joe?" she whispered.
"That's right, babe. And your name's Kristen."
"Kristen," she said, cocking her head. "My name is
Kristen."
"I know that, girl." He sighed and opened his canteen,
swigging several mouthfuls of water.
"J... Joe?"
"Uh huh."
"You're going to take me home?"
"That's right honey."
"To my mother and father?"
"Uh huh."
"Not to the big man?"
"Nope. Forget him. You won't see him again."
"Or the other men?"
"I'll take you to your father and then you can go home
to California."
"California," she said, wonderingly. Her eyes were
blinking repeatedly. "I'm tired," she said, at last.
"Well, we'll be at the next village around noon. You
can have a nap then."
They didn't make it nearly that far though. Joe wasn't
thinking about how weak the girl was. They only made it
a half dozen miles before they had to rest. During the
rest, she fell asleep, and he figured they might as
well camp and eat.
He woke her up to eat some dried food, then let her
fall asleep again. "Probably good for her," he
muttered, somewhat impatiently.
She slept most of the afternoon. They made a few miles
before dusk, then she ate, exhaustedly and fell asleep
again, sleeping until after dawn, when he woke her up.
It was the first night's sleep she'd had in days,
though Joe didn't know it.
She didn't talk much during the trip back to the other
village, mostly just responding to his questions if he
asked them. Still, at least she was responding.
She was reluctant to enter the village, but moved
forward at once when he glared and raised his voice.
They ate with the Chief, who eyed the girl with
interest.
Joe decided to leave the village, rather than spend the
night. He knew he'd have to offer her to the Chief if
they stayed and wasn't sure if that would send her back
into her bleak dullness.
A dozen miles outside the village, they stopped and Joe
let her sleep again, cursing the delay. He kept careful
watch as she slept away much of the afternoon. Then
woke her and continued on until it was dark.
Now back in the heart of Pounta country, he didn't want
to stay on the ground. He lifted her into the tree and
tied her to a branch, then settled down himself and
slept soundly.
After a couple of days straight travel, they had
reached a roadway and were walking south on it, hoping
someone would come by and give them a lift. Kristen had
regained her senses, though she seemed strangely
agreeable, for her, and not very spirited.
Since he'd never had the occasion to be with a woman
who'd just been subjected to repeated rapes over a
number of days, Joe wasn't sure what to do or say.
After some time though, she finally voiced what seemed
to be bothering her the most.
"I just don't understand," she said.
"What?"
"I... Well... You wouldn't understand."
"Try me."
"I don't understand how I could do that."
"Huh? How you could do what?"
"You weren't there. You didn't see me," she groaned,
shaking her head.
"See you doing what?"
"Promise not to tell my parents?"
"I promise."
"I was... I was a total slut!"
"A..."
"I the a nympho from hell! I screwed like I was crazy!"
Her eyes were wild as she stared at him in disbelief.
"You have no idea how many times I came, how I acted,
and the things I said!"
"Well, I'm sure..."
"No, no!" she shook her head. "You don't understand! I
wanted them to do it! Not at first, but then, oh how I
wanted it! How I groaned and wiggled and waved myself
in their faces to get them to fuck me! Especially that
giant man!"
"Lunga?"
"Was that his name?" she asked, wonderingly. "I never
knew. All I knew was that he had this huge, big cock
and I wanted it in me!"
"You were exhausted and beaten down. You hadn't eaten
or slept..."
"But I knew it was wrong! I couldn't' help myself! I
wanted his cock! I wanted all their cocks!"
"I ain't no shrink, Kristen. But what's wrong with
wanting a good screw?"
"But they're savages!"
"They were men."
"Savages!" she shook her head. "And I rutted with them
like a complete slut, like a bitch in heat!"
"I don't think that's any big crime."
"You didn't see me," she repeated.
"Well, with a cock that big..."
"You saw it then? You saw his... Did you... did you see
him... fuck me?" she asked, swallowing.
"Uh, well, he wanted a final fling before you went."
"So you did see. You saw me with him. Did you see how I
shook and moaned and acted like an insane nympho?"
Joe easily resisted the idea of telling her that he'd
fucked her first. "I saw you. You looked hot and sexy."
"I always look hot and sexy," she sighed. "But I never
acted like a complete whore before."
"You acted like a cocktease."
"All girls act like that," she smiled tiredly.
"There must be something in me, some kind of raw,
carnal whore that likes doing it with savages."
"You acted pretty happy when I did you in your tent,"
he said.
She blushed, the memory coming back to her. "I... I'd
forgotten."
"I didn't. I couldn't. You were one hot little number.
I don't think you're changed much."
"I don't understand why I let you do that, why I
responded to you, or to them."
"Your body responded. Hell, girl. Why fight it? So you
enjoyed yourself. So what? Nobody else has to know."
"But what about now? What about in future? Am I going
to drop my pants every time some guy looks sideways at
me?"
"Somehow I doubt it," he grinned.
***
Another day, and several rides got them south of the
river. Another day and they'd be back in town where
he'd left his jeep. Kristen had continued to mope,
though she didn't seem quite so bad. She was not at all
the argumentative girl he'd traveled with before, for
which he was grateful, and she hadn't remembered that
he'd taken her in the village.
Then the truck they were riding on stopped at a
roadblock. There were a dozen soldiers standing around
with their rifles. They demanded everyone's papers, and
studied them carefully, gazing at the owners
suspiciously. When Kristen was unable to produce any
papers, she was ordered off the truck.
Joe got down with her and the truck drove on.
"Look, Captain..."
"I am no speak to you!"
"But I am the girl's guardian."
"What means guardian? Are you husband?"
"Well, no."
"Are you brother or uncle or cousin."
"No, but..."
"Then shut you up," he turned to Kristen, his eyes
examining her strange costume.
"Why do you wear this?"
"Uh... My clothes were lost in the river."
"You get these from Bantu, yes?"
"Uh... yes, I guess so."
"Bantu are bad people. They fight against government.
Where you see Bantu."
"It was far north of the river in..."
"I ask you? I not ask you!" the captain snapped.
"Look, Captain, I can get her papers if..."
Someone hit him on the back of the head with a rifle
butt. When he came to, his guns and watch, and other
valuables were gone. He was lying by the side of the
road with nothing much more than his clothes.
The roadblock and the soldiers were gone, and so was
Kristen. He held his head, which throbbed with pain and
gazed up and down the road furiously. Right on the
fucking edge of town, he thought, viciously, thinking
of the things he'd do to that Captain when he caught up
with him.
***
Kristen was sitting in the back of the army truck, her
eyes looking down at her feet. Soldiers sat all around
her, most of them staring at her body, most of which
was revealed rather well by the Bantu outfit. The man
beside her slid his hand along her thigh and laughed
when she moved slightly aside.
Her skirt was held together by a single knot at her
hip. The soldier worked it loose and pulled the skirt
open, revealing everything to their lust filled eyes.
Kristen pressed her knees tight together, her hand
bunched at her lap to hide her nakedness.
The soldier pulled her hands aside and forced his hand
between her thighs, squeezing her roughly.
"I think the Captain wants her for himself." One of the
others warned.
"Will he know?" The first one asked, staring furiously
around. The Captain was in a jeep up ahead of them.
Nobody said anything, though several of them grinned.
The man gripped Kristen's hair and twisted it cruelly,
making her cry out in pain, then he forced her down
onto the floor of the truck and around to her knees so
her face was between his knees. The soldiers sitting
across from him stared into her naked ass with
admiration.
"I have heard that White women like the taste of a
man's organ." The soldier panted, undoing his pants and
taking out his erection. Kristen whined in denial, but
couldn't move at all as the man's fingers kept a tight
hold of her hair.
He pointed his cock at her and pulled on her hair,
forcing her face closer. "Take it in your mouth, White
woman!" he hissed. Kristen could not understand his
words, but knew what he wanted well enough. She opened
her lips and slid them around his cockhead.
She hadn't sucked a cock since coming to Africa. None
of her numerous lovers had known about fellatio, being
too crude and ignorant to know much perversity. This
soldier came from the city though, and though more
sophisticated than the Bantu, was considerably crueler.
He forced Kristen's lips down his cockshaft, humping up
at her as she began to suck on his tool. The others
watched eagerly, bulging erections showing in their
uniform pants. One of the soldiers opposite stared into
the White girl's crotch and fell forward off the bench,
pulling at his pants.
He knelt behind her and then pulled out his hard, black
cock, pointing it at her slash.
Kristen grunted into the cock as she felt another one
drive deep into her cunt. Hands held her hips as the
cock began to work in and out of her furiously. She
tried to concentrate on the cock in her mouth, but the
ferocious ruttings of the man fucking her kept throwing
off her pace.
The man sitting before her growled and slapped her
face, cursing at her. She redoubled her efforts, trying
to ignore the pounding against her ass. The man shoved
his cock deep into her mouth, cursing at her angrily.
His hand fastened around her hanging tit and squeezed
it tightly, twisting it around painfully.
She moaned and jerked back, but was held in place
easily. Her tit was twisted again, and the cock pushed
against the back of her mouth. Then the cockhead
slipped past her mouth and lodged in her throat. At
once, the man lunged forward, driving the cock down her
throat.
He began to throat fuck her, timing his strokes with
the man raping her fuck-hole. The two of them lunged
into her together, jamming their cocks into her weak,
helpless body and crushing her against them. Both of
them were grunting and laughing with pleasure.
Then the man throat fucking her came, his cum shooting
down her throat into her stomach. He slid his cock back
out of her throat and Kristen gasped for air. Another
man knelt in front of her then and gripped her hair,
forcing her head up and back as his cock pushed between
her lips.
Cum spewed down her fuck hole and the soldier pulled
out, another taking his place. Kristen's head reeled.
She had never been taken like this, so meanly and
cruelly. She'd never been fucked by more than one man
at a time.
The Bantu had been rough, but out of ignorance and not
out of cruelty. They had never knowingly inflicted pain
on her as they used her body. These men were different,
city men, army men, who could do pretty much as they
liked to the helpless, and much used to rape.
Their hands dug into her flesh, pinching nastily,
slapping her without reason and cursing her
continuously. Their nails dug into her nipples,
grinding hard to make her cry out. Their cocks hammered
her with brutal savagery, causing the maximum pain to
her soft flesh.
Her hair was pulled and twisted, her face and head
slapped. Her breasts were crushed and mashed and
pinched and slapped, and fingers abused her clit, not
to pleasure her, but to cause her pain. Each cry of
pain brought laughter from the men who surrounded her.
They had raped many girls and women, but never a White
woman, and they were getting the most of this
opportunity, knowing another would probably not present
itself.
The cock in her throat shot its load and pulled free.
It was not immediately replaced, though the dazed girl
didn't know why. The cruel men turned her so she was
facing down the aisle between their benches, then the
man rutting her pulled free.
At first, she didn't know what was gong on. Then she
felt a hard, sharp pain at her anus. She moaned in
fright as she realized the cock was trying to force
entrance there. She had never, ever done that before,
thinking it disgusting and filthy.
Now she felt her pained asshole forced open as the
soldiers watched with glee. A hard, fat cock was pushed
slowly into her anus. Every cry of pain made the
soldiers laugh and giggle as they urged on the man
behind her.
The cock drove deeper and deeper into her rectum,
twisting and thrusting with no regard at all for the
pain she was experiencing. She had put up with a lot
from the Bantu, but now Kristen felt shattered and
lost. She had never encountered men like these before.
They were worse, much worse than the Bantu.
She cried out in pain as the cock wormed deeper into
her anus. Tears poured from her eyes as the prick sank
to the bottom of her asshole and lodged firmly and
tightly inside her. Hands slapped her and squeezed her.
The cock held still but a moment, then pulled back,
hurting as much as it had going in.
The soldier began to rut furiously, humping in and out,
tearing his cock around inside her, ripping her flesh
and reaming out her asshole. He beat down her sphincter
and crammed his long, oozing cock pole down into the
deepest pit of her asshole.
Then her hair was jerked viciously and her head pulled
up. A fat Black cock stared her in the face. Seconds
later someone cuffed her hard, rocking her head. The
cock prodded at her lips and she meekly opened them,
allowing the man to stuff his cock into her mouth.
Again she was hammered from two sides. One cock slammed
up and down her tight anal sheath, the other slid back
and forth over her shapely, pouting lips. The man
fucking her ass was pounding into her with relentless
force, his cock slicing in and out of her with brutal
ease.
He was grunting, a high singing song of conquest and
satisfaction. He drove his spurting rod deep into her
guts and sprayed a hot load of salty seed into her
body. His hands squeezed her ass cheeks, then he with-
drew, immediately replaced by another.
Another hard cock penetrated her anus, thrusting deep
inside her. This one was longer than the other and
caused painful cramps deep in the recesses of her belly
as it brought hard pressure to bear inside her. The man
showed now mercy, ripping the cock up and down her anal
passage as his hands slapped out a crude, brutal tattoo
on her soft White ass cheeks.
His hands soon turned her ass red with pain as his cock
continued to skewer her tight asshole. His hands moved
up her body to her ribs, his knuckles pressing hard and
making her wince with pain. Then his hands slid under
her and started squeezing her hanging tits.
The man fucking her face, jammed his cockhead deep down
her throat, then spit out his dirty sperm. As he
withdrew, the man raping her asshole, jerked her back
against him. His hands slid under her arms, then up
behind her head in a full nelson, pulling her way up
and back, bowing her back as his cock ground deep into
her ass.
She was half sitting on his hard cock, her back arched
painfully and her head pressed downward. He rubbed his
hard cock back and forth in her ass tunnel as others
around them pawed and fondled her breasts and crotch.
Fingers slid up her cunt tunnel while her nipples were
pinched and twisted.
A cock was pushed against her face and she swallowed
it, sucking instinctively now as her body burned with
pain and fear. The men manhandled her like a rag doll.
She was pulled back down on the floor of the truck bed,
on her right side. Her head was forced back and the
cock in her mouth slid down her throat.
The man ass fucking her knelt behind her, holding her
left leg high in the air as he rutted into her. Another
man knelt in front of her at her crotch. He helped the
man behind her force her leg higher still so her
tendons screamed in pain. Then his cock was pushed
against her cunt.
She whimpered in confusion and misery as the man's hard
erection forced open her tight cunt and worked its way
into her. Her entire crotch was afire with pain now as
her skin was tautly stretched between the two raping
cocks. The soldiers were not to be denied, however, and
soon her cunt tube was stuffed with male meat.
The two men sawed their cocks back and forth in her
body, churning her guts into a boiling frothy mixture
of pain and bewildered arousal. She seemed to no longer
have control of her bodily functions as her skin
rippled with heat and her guts fluttered and spasmed.
Out of nowhere, her arousal blasted into the
stratosphere and consumed her body. Her frame was
slashed with razor sharp sexual shocks that blasted
into her with the impact of an explosion. Her body was
speared by three giant cocks and helpless to withhold
its hot sexual fever of carnal response.
Chapter 7
---------
Joe arrived at the little town several hours later.
There he found Moure and a pair of Rovers. Moure was
sleeping under one and Joe had to lay down on the
ground and stick his leg underneath to jab the man
awake.
Inside the Rovers was the equipment he'd been unable to
carry with him down river. There was a second Uzi, and
a number of other weapons, including explosives. Joe
pulled out a stick of dynamite and looked at it,
promising himself he was going to stuff it up that
Captain's asshole and light it.
"Where we go, Boss?" Moure queried.
"Where's the nearest army base?"
"That be north, near Bwale."
"That's where we're goin'."
"Them no good, Boss."
"That's for sure. I gotta find someone, though."
"Hokay, Boss."
A couple of hours later they were parked across the
road and a half mile down from the entrance to the army
base. It wasn't a big place as things went, but it was
heavily guarded. Joe studied it through his binoculars,
looking for the most likely buildings where they would
take prisoners.
Fortunately, there weren't many. Most of the structures
were obviously barracks. A few were supply type
buildings, and a garage or two. There were only two
buildings that looked likely to be housing prisoners,
and one of them, the one with an extra barbed wire
fence around it seemed to be number one.
He watched the soldiers doing their rounds and curled
his lip. They were typical of African soldiers, sloppy
and poorly disciplined and trained. He didn't think it
would be very hard to penetrate this base. Getting
through the second fence would be only slightly harder.
There were no guards on it, but plenty of light.
He looked around the base a little more. There didn't
seem to be any kind of generator. That meant that the
power came in from the big dam fifty miles off. It
would not be hard to cut the wire outside the base.
Barring bad luck, he'd find Kristen tonight, or rather,
tomorrow morning, around three.
***
Kristen had come several times before the multiple
fucks ended. The truck slowed near a fence and several
of the soldiers pulled her back into place on the bench
and put her clothes back around her. One even gave her
a rough wipe between the legs and over the tits with a
rag.
The truck pulled through the gate and into what seemed
to be some kind of army base. They drove over to a
building with another fence around it and the truck
stopped. A few seconds later the officer in charge came
back from the jeep and Kristen was pulled down from the
truck, which drove away.
The man led her through a gate and up the walk to the
two story windowless building. There was a thick steel
door and he pounded on it. The door opened and she was
dragged through. She looked around, her eyes wide. She
was in a very dimly lit little entrance hall. Narrow
halls led off in three directions and a stair well led
both up and down.
The officer said something to the men there and then
led her across the hall and down the concrete stairs.
They emerged in an even more dimly lit hallway. It was
all concrete and lit only by a few naked bulbs hanging
here and there along its length.
There were steel doors placed against the sides of the
corridor and they stopped in front of one of them. The
man opened it and pushed Kristen through. Then the door
slammed shut behind her. She was in a very small
concrete cell of some sort. There were no furnishings.
No cot or anything.
The cell was lit by one small light bulb up high. The
walls were covered with scratch marks and stains. The
floor was filthy and covered with old straw, stained
with ugly looking, foul smelling things. Bugs moved all
around on the walls and in the straw.
She stood in a corner, not wanting to touch anything.
She didn't know what she was going to do if she had to
stay here for any length of time. The idea of sleeping
here was horrifying. She just couldn't bring herself to
lie down on the horrible looking floor, despite her
exhaustion.
Hour after hour, she stood there in the corner. Her
legs were becoming stiff and weak. Finally there was a
clanking sound and the door opened. A harsh voice
called out and she moved to the door, then shuffled
out. There was another officer of some sort. He grabbed
her arm roughly and led her back down the corridor and
into another room, this one bigger.
There was a bored looking man standing in the room. His
eyes widened with interest when he saw Kristen. The two
men spoke to one another and then the man moved to
Kristen and began pulling off her clothes. She sighed
and did nothing to stop or hinder him. In seconds she
was nude.
The man pulled her over into a corner where there was a
shower. He turned the water on, cold of course and
tossed her a bar of soap. She just looked at it for a
second and then back at him. He gestured impatiently.
She started to scrub herself, glad to clean off some of
the filth she'd accumulated.
She felt itchy all over just from being near all those
bugs in that filthy cell and scrubbed her feet
repeatedly. She also scrubbed between her legs and over
her tits. She only wished they had a douche and
mouthwash so she could get rid of all trace of the
stinking sperm that had entered her body.
After she'd scrubbed herself, the water was turned off
and the man pulled her away from the shower and over to
a table. His hands slid over her body, lingering for a
while on her breasts, which he squeezed repeatedly,
like a small child, fascinated with a new toy. His
hands slid between her legs and squeezed her pussy as
well.
He looked at his watch and then sighed, apparently with
regret. He fetched a towel and threw it to her and
Kristen began to dry herself. After that, the man gave
her a brush and led her to a little table that had a
cracked and dirty mirror over it.
Well, it was the first one she'd seen in a week and she
was grateful, until she saw herself. She winced at he
horrible mass of tangled hair. It took fifteen minutes
of relentless attack before the tangles were out and
her hair fell more or less straight.
What she needed, she sighed, was a full perm, as well
as a complete massage, oil down, and makeover. She
could stand to have her nails done too. The man didn't
seem likely to offer that however. He grunted
impatiently, then pulled her away from the chair and
out the door into the corridor.
There was another soldier waiting there. He exchanged
his hand for the others on Kristen's arm and then led
her down the corridor to the stairs, then up them. They
didn't stop at the first floor, but instead went up to
the second. There, the hallway was much wider and
looked much less threatening.
Kristen didn't care. She was just happy they weren't
taking her back to the dungeon, or whatever it was they
called the basement. They walked to a wooden door and
stopped. Then the man knocked twice. After a moment,
the door opened and the man saluted an older man.
The older man replied in kind, his eyes on Kristen
roving up and down her naked body. She'd been without
clothes for so long now, that it was difficult to be
embarrassed as his eyes bored into her. He motioned her
inside and then closed the door.
She was in some kind of office. The man led her over to
a chair sitting in front of a desk and then sat her
down. He moved around behind the desk and looked across
it at her, though he didn't sit down.
"Good afternoon," he said, his accent terrible.
"You speak English!" she cried.
"Yes. I speak English."
"Oh, thank God! Will you contact my parents and tell
them where I am?"
"First you will answer my questions."
"Anything you want."
"Who do you work for?"
"Pardon?"
"Who do you work for?"
"I don't work for anybody," she said, confused.
"You work for the South Africans, don't you?"
"I told you, I don't work for anybody."
"What were you doing north of the river?"
"I was kidnapped!"
"You expect me to believe that?"
"But it's the truth. I was grabbed by some Bantu and
taken to their village."
"The Bantu would not have taken you there, especially
not with that strange hair of yours. They would have
thought you were an evil spirit or witch."
"Well, they did."
"Did you have sexual relations with them?"
She blushed and nodded.
"With who?"
"I don't know, a lot of them."
"So you are an American prostitute."
"I am not!" she said, indignantly.
"You lie! I see it now. You were sent here to use your
filthy body and influence our people into rebellion!"
"I was not!"
"That is just the kind of thing the filthy South
Africans would do!" he snarled, stomping around the
corner of the desk and staring down at her furiously.
"But I'm not a prostitute!" she protested. His hand
swung down and slapped her face so hard she was flung
out of her chair. She sat on the floor, holding her
cheek and looking up at him in fear.
"Get up, you slut!"
"I'm not! I'm really not!"
She slowly got to her feet and the man shoved her back
in the chair and grabbed her still damp hair. He pulled
her head far back so her neck bent across the back of
the chair. He laid his fist against her throat and
looked nastily down at her.
"One blow and you would die, slut!"
"Please don't hurt me!" she gasped.
He pulled her hair forward again, then jerked her out
of the chair and slammed her belly into the desk and
shoved her down across it.
His knees forced her legs open and then she felt his
hard male organ pressing against her cuntlips. She
sighed in resignation, by now almost used to rape. His
cock slid into her and he began to pump energetically.
It was less than a minute before he came inside her and
pulled out again.
"I do not believe you whore!" he gasped. "You are a
slut and a prostitute. It is obvious that you work for
the South Africans."
"B-but..."
"I will have you taken back to your cell. There you
will remain for the next ten or twenty years or so,
until you decide to cooperate."
"But I don't know anything!" Kristen wailed, appalled
at the idea of going back to the little cell. She
dropped to her knees in front of him and flung her arms
around his legs, tears coursing down her cheeks.
"Please, please don't send me back there!!" she begged.
"I'll do anything you want!"
"Well," he said, considering. "It might be possible for
you to work out your penance in some other way."
He carefully examined her body again, noting the
fullness of her round breasts and the perfection of her
skin, despite the numerous light scratches.
"I think we can find some other form of punishment for
you," he smiled.
She was not surprised at what the "punishment"
consisted of. She was given another cell, only this one
was on the second floor here, and was much bigger and
nicer. It had a nice big bed too and Kristen found
herself spending most of her time in it.
Every hour or so, another man would come to her, always
an officer of course. She would twist and turn her body
as they directed, then allow herself to be pushed to
her back or onto her knees as the man fucked her. None
of them spent much time fucking her, generally spraying
inside her within minutes.
For that she was grateful. She wondered if she was to
be an actual prostitute for the rest of her life. That
was what she seemed to be now. Did they really think
she was a hooker? Probably not. She doubted it mattered
to them.
After some hours, she was exhausted, but the men showed
no sign of stopping. There were no clocks or anything,
so she didn't know what time it was. There weren't even
any windows to look out of. She didn't know if it was
day or night.
She took a quick shower. The officers didn't want to
smell each other on her skin. She douched, for much the
same reason, then took off her shower cap and brushed
her hair. Five minutes later, her next customer
arrived.
He didn't arrive alone, though. Kristen stared in
surprise as the man, a big fat guy, led in a small thin
girl behind him. She was a couple of years younger than
Kristen, and her skin was as Black as Kristen's was
White. She was just as naked too.
The two girls stared at each other for a moment, then
the man said something. Kristen didn't understand it
but the girl evidently did. She moved forward until the
two were standing only a foot apart.
Kristen stared at her. She was shorter than Kristen,
and her breasts were smaller. Despite the darkness of
the girl's flesh, Kristen could see the dark slit
between her legs, for the girl had no pubic hair.
Kristen had never seen a girl this old without pubic
hair, and realized at once that it must have been
shaved off.
Kristen's gaze traveled up to her face. It was pudgy,
with wide brown eyes and the very light coating of
Black hair that most African women had.
The man said something else and the girl moved against
her. Kristen jerked back slightly, but knew she had to
do whatever the man wanted. The girl's body pressed
against hers, and her arms came around Kristen and
caressed her White skin.
Kristen stared into the girl's brown eyes in fright,
worried now that she would respond even worse than she
had with her male rapists. The one time she had cum
before had been with a woman, and it had worried her
for years. Now she was faced with another, and had no
choice but to let the girl fondle her, and even return
the caresses.
Already the girl's hands were sliding up and down her
lower back, then they slid down softly over her
buttocks, following the contours of her rounded cheeks
as her fingers barely touched her. Suddenly the girl's
fingers gave a tight squeeze. Kristen gasped and jerked
upward onto her toes, her body pushing against the
Black girl's.
Their breasts touched, and it was like the girl was a
live electrical circuit. Kristen's round breasts
exploded with blood, swelling up like balloons, her
nipples hardening and lengthening, pressing into the
Black girl's own smaller Black breasts.
Their bodies rubbed together as the fat man watched
with an interested smirk. The Black girl cocked her
head to one side then kissed Kristen, her lips wide and
soft and wet. The kiss went on and on, the girl
obviously familiar with the man's tastes and knowing
how to please him.
Kristen found herself returning the kiss, found her own
arms instinctively going around the smaller girl's
shoulders and her hands rubbing the girl's back. Their
lips moved together with more and more passion, their
tongues dancing together, first in Kristen's mouth,
then in the other girl's.
The Black girl pulled her lips away, lowering her head
to Kristen's soft rounded breasts. She cupped one
gently, forcing the nipple out even further. Her lips
surrounded the long pink bud of flesh, pressing down
against it, surrounding it, and then rubbing softly
from side to side as her tongue swirled on the very tip
of the sharp little nubin.
Then her lips moved forward, her mouth suckling as the
Black girl took more of Kristen's tit meat into her
mouth. Now Kristen could feel the girl's teeth against
her nipple, pressing down, not hard, but with a
sharpness, a slight pain that send heat coursing
through her body.
The Black girl's hand slid up and down the crevice
between Kristen's firmly rounded ass cheeks, the
stroking soft, and slow, then suddenly the hand slid
down between her legs from behind, and squeezed her
pubic mound firmly. Kristen gasped and pulled the
girl's head into her tits.
She felt her body shivering and her legs going rubbery.
The Black girl was suckling furiously at her breast as
her fingers prodded at Kristen's cunt slit, then she
forced the tight lips apart and drove a finger up into
Kristen's cunt, wiggling it about with quick, agile
movements.
Kristen felt herself lowering as her legs gave way, and
then she was on her knees, looking up into the Black
girl's hairless slit. The girl spread her legs,
straightening her body and caressing the sides of
Kristen's head. She pulled Kristen forward, so her face
was pressed into her Black groin, then rubbed herself
against the White girl.
Kristen opened her mouth, hesitantly, then her tongue
slid out and touched the Black girl's cunt slit. She
rubbed her tongue up and down the narrow slash, pushing
harder and deeper, trying to force her tongue up the
tight twat hole. Her hands slid around the girl and
cupped and squeezed her small ass cheeks.
Her fingers dug deep into the flesh as her mind was
dazed by brilliant flashes of sexual electricity. She
rubbed her tongue madly up and down the slit, then
found the little pink clitty peaking out and began to
work on it with almost desperate intensity.
The girl began to moan and sigh with pleasure, her hips
slowly pumping from side to side and in and out. She
arched her back, and brought her hands up behind her
head, throwing her chest out. Her eyes closed to narrow
slits and she moaned louder, partly from pleasure,
partly because she knew the watching man wanted her to.
She began to mumble and mutter in a low panting voice,
words that Kristen didn't understand, but the ogling
man did. His cock swelled with excitement as he watched
the White girl's tongue dance in the Black girl's
crotch.
Then the girl seized Kristen's face and pulled her hard
against her crotch as she rubbed furiously against her.
She cried out in ecstasy, her body trembling and
shaking through a light orgasm that she exaggerated for
effect. She let her knees give way and fell down onto
her knees in front of Kristen.
Their lips joined again, and their arms encircled each
other, then they slid to the ground, their bodies
rubbing and stroking each other. The Black girl laid on
top of Kristen, who spread her legs wide, and began to
rub up and down against her, stroking the White girl's
jittery wet crotch with her own.
She suckled fiercely on Kristen's round tits, her hand
sliding between the White girl's legs and stroking her
cunt. A finger pushed into Kristen, then a second, then
a third, then a fourth. Kristen groaned and whimpered
and humped up against the pumping fingers as her body
tingled and shook with arousal.
Then she gave a low gasp as her cunt was forced even
wider. The Black girl's wrist passed through her cunt
and she had her entire hand inside Kristen's cunt box.
She bunched up her fingers into a tight little fist and
worked her hand even deeper as the White girl writhed
beneath her.
She finally reached the bottom of the tight, wet,
sucking cunt box and ground her knuckles against
Kristen's cervix, making the her scream in pleasure.
Kristen jerked and humped and twisted in a mad sexual
dance, her body consumed by vast waves of intense
erotic bliss.
"Oh! Oh! Oh! OH! OH! OH! OOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Kristen
gasped. "OH YES! OH YES! YES! YES!"
The Black girl pumped her fist up and down the spasming
pink cuntslit, watching with amusement as the White
girl went insane beneath her. Kristen's body thrashed
and shook, jerking and bucking furiously as she was
whipped by hurricane force winds of delirious sexual
pleasure.
She shook and trembled and whined like a bitch cat with
her tail on fire. The hole between her legs had become
a furnace, then an erupting volcano that threatened to
fry her with its intense heat. Her eyes rolled back and
her body stiffened, then she collapsed motionless, her
chest heaving with exertion.
Chapter 8
---------
It was almost embarrassingly easy. He simply cut a
couple of the strands of wire and slipped into the
camp. There were no guards in sight. The one that was
supposed to be patrolling had evidently gone to sleep
somewhere. He kept low as he moved across the dark
camp, heading for the second fence, the one around the
building that was his target.
He slipped into some bushes a dozen yards from the
fence and waited, scanning his watch. Two minutes
later, the lights went out and he raced forward and
clipped the lowest strand, then slid under. He used a
small piece of wire from his pocket to tie the severed
strand back together, then raced to the building and
jumped, grabbing the drainpipe.
This was a gamble, but it held and he shinnied up to
the top and fell over onto the roof, gasping for
breath. The lights came back on again. There was no
loud outcry or anything. Maybe nobody had even noticed.
But no, the door below opened and a fat looking guy
with a machine pistol came out and looked around.
Apparently satisfied, he went back inside.
Joe crept across the roof. There it was, a door leading
down. He knew there'd be one. It was locked of course,
but that presented no major difficulty. He took out the
pry bar from his belt and slowly began to work on it.
It didn't take long. The wood was rotting and the steal
was rusting.
Five minutes later, with very little sound, the door
popped open and he slid inside. There was a narrow
stairway, which he moved down. At the foot was another
door, this one unlocked. He stepped through and into a
hallway.
It was quiet in the hall, though from each of the
numerous doors came quiet and unidentifiable sounds. He
pushed the first one open a crack and looked in. There
was a naked Black man on a bed. A young girl, only
barely developing, was squatting atop him, taking his
thick cock into her body.
He closed the door. The next revealed much the same,
except the girl was older. Across the hall, he opened
the door to find a man fucking a boy in the ass. The
next room revealed an oriental woman hanging from her
wrists from the ceiling. Joe couldn't see the guy, and
didn't care to. He closed the door and moved on.
He pushed open another door. There was a man sitting on
a chair, his back to the door. Joe couldn't see any
girl. This was obviously some kind of whorehouse and he
couldn't imagine the guy being alone. He opened the
door further, peering around it.
There was a pair of legs on the floor. They were
obviously female, and just as obviously Black. He
started to retreat, then curiosity got the best of him.
What the heck was she doing sitting on the floor?
He pushed his head around the door. Now he could see
much better. The girl was on her back and there was
another girl on top of her. The two were sixty-nineing
and the one on top was White... with pink hair!" He was
so relieved he almost laughed.
Instead, he crept into the room and closed the door.
The man looked up in surprise just to catch the butt of
his Uzi in the face. A second blow took him in the head
and he fell over, unconscious. Joe moved around him to
the girl's who were still licking and slurping at each
other's pussies.
He gripped the pink hair and pulled upward. Kristen
blinked in dazed confusion.
"Time to go pinky." he said. He looked down at the
Black girl, who looked back impassively. He pulled on
Kristen's arm and hauled her to her feet, where she
staggered and would have fallen if not for his firm
hold.
He picked up the Black man's pants and slipped them
onto Kristen's legs, rolling them up at the bottom.
Then he grabbed the uniform jacket and got her into
that, tying the belt to keep it closed around her.
"Let's go."
"Go?" she mumbled, in confusion.
"Just follow me," he sighed, pulling her along, hand in
hand.
He opened the door and peaked outside. There was
nothing moving. Everyone was too busy. They went down
the hallway and up the stairs to the roof. Joe checked
his watch and pulled Kristen over to a corner, where
he'd tied a rope earlier.
"Do you think you can climb down a rope?"
She looked at him blankly and he cursed softly and tied
the other end of the rope around her under her arms. He
checked his watch again. Just then the lights went out.
"Over you go lovey," he said, pushing Kristen over the
edge of the building. She gave a low cry, but stopped
when she realized the rope was preventing her from
falling.
He lowered her to the ground, where she sat down dumbly
at the base of the wall. He jumped over and slid
quickly down to the ground, landing beside her.
"Let's go, kid!" he hissed. He slipped the rope off and
then pulled her to the fence, quickly pulling the wire
loose and shoving her threw.
A minute or so later, the fat guy came out of the door
again and looked around. He saw the rope coming down
from the roof and gave a cry of alarm. A second man
joined him and then the two raced back into the
building and up the stairs.
They drove for over half an hour before Kristen finally
began to talk.
"Are you going to take me back to the camp where I was
kidnapped?" She asked, softly.
"No. Of course not. You're parents are in Harare
anyway."
"Are we going there?"
"Tomorrow morning."
"What about tonight?"
"Tonight, we take you to what passes for a luxury hotel
in this city."
"Luxury," she said. "That would be something new."
"I hope you like it."
Thirty minutes later, they entered a large, and old
building. There were thick wall to wall carpets in the
lobby. Apparently he already had a room for they didn't
go to the desk. Instead he led her to the elevator. The
man inside looked at her unusual clothes but then
politely averted his eyes.
Then they were in his room on the fourth floor. It was
tastelessly overdone, with big carvings and murals and
atrociously ostentatious furnishings. Kristen loved it
though. She loved the shower and bath even more. She
spent half an hour in the shower, scrubbing herself
down. When that was done, she filled up the bathtub and
spent another hour in the bath.
She emerged, finally, clad in a big oversized bath
towel, her hair falling behind her in a dark red wave.
"You look much better," Joe said.
"I feel much better."
She sat down beside him on the couch, looking at the
big fire crackling in the fireplace. "I guess I have a
lot to thank you for," she said.
"Part of the service."
"It must have been hard finding me in the jungle like
that, then to break me out of that awful army base..."
"I'll charge your father a finder's fee."
She smiled, "I'd like to apologize."
"For what?"
"For the way I treated you, you know, before I was
kidnapped."
"Oh, that. Forget it."
"I was a bitch. Admit it."
"Ok. You were a bitch."
She smiled again.
"Still, there were moments."
"You mean in your tent?" he grinned.
"Yes, of course I mean that. That was, I'll have you
know, the first orgasm I'd had with a man, ever."
"You're kidding!"
She shook her head.
"What do you mean, with a man?"
"I had one when I was much younger, with a woman, and
of course, I've had a number, as they say, on my own."
"A woman, huh. I wondered whether you were gay."
"I'm not really. I haven't even been with a woman in
three or four years, except for tonight that is."
"Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it."
"Don't get cocky, Joe. I came like gangbusters with the
Bantu, remember, and even in the truck on the way to
the army camp... well, anyway, let's just say that you
don't have to be superman to make me cum now. I don't
know how or when I changed, but I've become a multi-
orgasmic nympho."
"All women should be so lucky, and all men."
"So anyway..." she continued, swirling a little of the
brandy he'd poured into a glass for her, "I forgive you
for the rather rude way you uh, did me then, and even
for doing me again in the village. Oh yes, I know about
it. Didn't think I'd remember, did you?" she grinned.
"It was sort of, thrust upon me, lass."
"Not half as much as it was thrust upon me."
"Aww well."
"I forgive you for that, but I want a favor."
"Name it."
"I've been fucked like a she-bitch so often in the last
week, screwed in the dirt and grass and mud, hammered
by big-dicked jerks and all. I want something else. I
want you to make love to me."
"After all you've been through?"
"I want to see if it's me that's changed, or whether it
was just the roughness that made me cum. Do I need to
be used like that or can I have an orgasm that doesn't
leave bruises?"
She stood up and let the towel fall to the floor. Joe
set his glass down and stood up as well. He reached out
and took her hand, then led her forward until they were
next to the fireplace, then he gently drew her down
onto the heavily carpeted floor.
"How's this for clichéd?" he grinned, pushing her onto
her back beside the fire. He knelt beside her, then
pulled off his shirt and slipped his pants down. Nude,
he sat next to her, his hand sliding softly across her
flesh, caressing her curves and sweet rounded breasts.
He laid down next to her, his arm going around her.
Their faces leaned together and they kissed, softly,
gently. His hand continued to slowly massage the flesh
of her shoulders and sides, then slid easily down over
her belly and into her groin. He cupped her moist pubic
region, his fingers rubbing softly.
Her breathing became heavier as his lips slid over hers
and down against the side of her throat. He kissed her
there, then his lips moved downward kissing her
shoulders, then her breasts. He sucked in her left
nipple, and slid it around inside his mouth, his tongue
rubbing against it. Then he let it go and took in her
right nipple, repeating the gentle suckling.
He kissed his way down her body until he was between
her legs. Kristen spread them wide, drawing them back
so her heels rested against the sides of her buttocks.
He laid between her legs, his face against her crotch.
Slowly his tongue began to work up and down her slit.
She closed her eyes and lay motionless as his tongue
and fingers began to manipulate her clitty and delve
between the ever more moist lips of her cunt hole. He
sucked on her lips, then moved to her clitty and began
to work on it, his teeth grinding back and forth on it
as she started to mewl in pleasure and hump slightly
against him.
His hands caressed her buttocks as his tongue worked on
her clitty and pussy. He slipped a finger into her
cunt, pushing it in to the knuckle and working it
easily around. His tongue continued to slither back and
forth across her clit as he started to slowly pump the
finger in and out of the young woman.
She groaned loudly, her hands coming down to his hair
and caressing his head. He worked against her clit with
long, slow raping licks, making her raise her ass in
the air and move it in slow circles. His tongue pushed
forcefully in between her lips and sucked out wads of
girl juice, then returned to her clit.
His finger was joined by a second, then a third,
pumping slowly in and out as his tongue moved faster on
her clitty. Then she suddenly gave a moan of pleasure
and her hands pressed down hard on his head as she
humped up at him. She jerked and shook as an orgasm
rolled over her.
"So... so now... we know," she panted, when it had
subsided. He slid up her body, his tongue suckling on
her breasts again before he laid down atop her. She
stared up into his face as her breasts pushed heavily
against his chest. Then they kissed, a long, slow
gentle kiss of certainty and pleasure.
She felt his hardness pressing against her belly and
reached down to take it in her hand. He raised his
crotch slightly and Kristen took the cock and placed it
against her hot, wet pussy entrance. Then she slid her
ass slightly over and pushed it in. He settled down
upon her again, his cock sliding easily and deeply into
her cunt.
She groaned involuntarily as his hard hot meat filled
her up. She clenched down on her cunt muscles, feeling
his cock with them. She slid her arms around his body
as their kiss continued. He began to slowly push his
body up and down over hers, sliding his cock in and out
of her pussy.
She sighed with pleasure, not pushing back, just
resting there, legs spread, enjoying the sensation of
being fully penetrated by the fat organ. It slid in and
out of her body, rubbing persistently across her clitty
and bringing new arousal to her body.
Her skin flushed with excitement as her body began to
twitch and tremble with sexual bliss. Her hands slid
down to his ass and squeezed down, drawing him in
tighter. She slid her legs up around him and shook her
head from side to side.
They rolled over, and now she was on top, a position
she had not occupied in some time. She straddled his
hips, sitting atop his organ and gazing down at him.
She bent forward and kissed him as he cupped her
breasts and fondled them with his rough fingers.
She pushed back up, sitting down, then kneeling, her
knees wide apart on either side of his hips. She rose
up, pulling herself high above him so only the tip of
his cock was inside her. Then slowly, wanting it to
last forever, she slid down his shaft, letting it push
up into her belly.
He pulled her down again, his hands around her back and
head as they kissed, then they rolled over again, and
now he was on top once more. He began to fuck into her
with harder strokes, his cock sliding back and forth
across her clit as she shivered in excitement.
She felt her body quiver and shake, felt the orgasm
high above her. It was a huge sparkling white cloud,
vast and deep, it fell downward onto her, engulfing
her, and making her body shake and spasm and convulse
in erotic ecstasy.
His cock plunged back and forth within her, and seconds
later the cloud engulfed him also. Searing heat joined
their bodies as his juices spat down into her and
joined with her own. Their cum went on and on and on,
and then as they slowly relaxed. And Kristen knew that
everything would be okay...
THE END
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 54