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African Drums
By Dark Dreamer 

***

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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