textfiles/sex/EROTICA/A/african.txt

                        AFRICAN DRUMS


                       Part One

     Mandy 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 no 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.
     Mandy 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 manoeuvring 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 it's 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 they 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 that 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
Mandy 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 favours and generosity. At home, her
slightest wish was her parents 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. Mandy
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
permissable, 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, there comes our drive I think." her father sighed with
relief.
     Mandy 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. Mandy 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. Mandy 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 Mandy."
     "Hi there Maddie." he grinned, his eyes sliding quickly and
appreciatively up and down her body.
     "Mandy." 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 Maddie.
     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 drivers seat to
await them.
     Charles held open the rear door and Lucy and Mandy 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 dirt and tacky looking excuse for a city, with hordes of
black people wandering around aimlessly and shrieking in some ugly
foreign language that Mandy 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 travelling 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 friggen list?!" Joe demanded.
He poked his nose in the sides of 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." Mandy
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, 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." Mandy sulked.
     "I daresay 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 Mandy 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, Mandy 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 the 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
Mandy 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.
     They Taylors wandered around, enjoying the scenery, what there
was of it no further than a dozen yards from the camp at least.
Mandy accompanied her parents, shrugging and sniffing at everything
they pointed out.
     He 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 Mandy 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 bitch 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 to 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 slut 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 favour 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 snivelling had driven him to tear into his stash
of brandy far sooner than normal, and he was ready to bite
somebodies head off. None would be better than hers.
     Mandy was wearing a light white designer shirt, that, because
of the heat, she'd completely unbuttoned and then tied together
below her bra-less 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 me, 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?"
Mandy's eyes and mouth opened in amazement. Nobody, but nobody had
ever talked to her like this before.
     "I... 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 Goddam bathtubs and Goddam CD player and your
Goddam pink hair! What kind of a crazy wears pink hair anyway!?
     "It... 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 titties 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!"  
     Mandy 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 big left
breast through the sweaty blouse.  "The only one that's ever
touched these are you!" He sneered, against putting his face right
up against hers.
     Mandy 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, sweating 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.
Mandy 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.


                            Part Two

     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. Mandy 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, Mandy 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 Mandy 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 lay 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. Mandy 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.
     Mandy 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, Mandy 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. Mandy 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 grinded 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 Mandy 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 an 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, Mandy 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.
Mandy'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 bodies 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 calfs, 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.
     Mandy lay 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
red 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 know, 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 send 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 fervour.
     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.
     Mandy'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 it's 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 lay 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. Mandy lay
atop the table for long minutes, her legs still spread wide as the
furnace between her 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.
Mandy 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 will let you
know." She sniffed, walking away. He glared after her in confusion.
     Mandy 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 Mandy 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.
     Mandy 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 axe and a bow. A knife was stuck into the side
of his loincloth's belt.
     Mandy 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 Mandy, 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 Mandy?" Lucy cried, arriving in front of several of
the black drivers.
     "I'm afraid Mandy 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!

     Mandy'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 it's 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 Mandy 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 it's 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 mammaries 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 honourable 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.
Mandy 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. 
     The 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.
     Mandy 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. Mandy 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
Mandy was spreadeagled 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.
     Mandy'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. Mandy 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 it's 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. Mandy 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. Mandy 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.
     Mandy'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. Mandy 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.
     Mandy 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. Mandy 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 Mandy 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. Mandy 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 Mandy's body
and spewed out it's 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 Mandy'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. 
     Mandy'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.


                          Part Three

     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 be 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 Mandy 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. Mandy 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.
     Mandy 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. 
     Mandy 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,
Mandy kept falling back. She was panting exhaustedly 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 feet 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.
     Mandy 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 it's 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.
     Mandy 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, Mandy 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.
     Mandy gradually lost the feeling in her wrists and ankles and
a numbness set in around them. He 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. Mandy'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 Mandy 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 sabres in the girl
long after her body spent itself and knelt, then lay 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.
     The sat quietly around their small fire, speaking in low
voices. Some ate quietly, gulping down tough pieces of dried meat.
In a corner, Mandy 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. Mandy 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. Mandy'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.
     Mandy 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. Mandy 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 Mandy she 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. Mandy 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. Mandy 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.
Mandy tried to cover her nudity with her hands but the big woman
had ahold 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
Mandy behind her. When they were waist deep, she shoved down on
Mandy's head, submersing her in the water.
     Mandy 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 Mandy 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 Mandy 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.
Mandy 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 to 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 Mandy 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, marvelling at it's 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.
     Mandy 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 Mandy'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
considerable 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, signalling 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 the 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. The 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
bodies 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.