These are the adventures of Rachel Goodbody. Once a sexy reporter for a media giant; but now believed dead, lost with her film crew in an unfortunate air accident while deep in the African jungle. However she was not that lucky! And now she is the personal toy of the evil dictator she once crossed. If you would like to know how she started on this insane journey and what it took to get this over confident TV babe to become the “African Slave Queen” then read the aforementioned story. If you don’t really give a hoot then dive straight in. Finc
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The sweltering island looked more like an international airport than a private playground on the day of the wedding. Lear jets and helicopters taxied between the military buildings as an array of jewel encrusted dignitaries most fat with the trappings of power were each dutifully fawned over by Mobana’s guards and his island madam.
“This way your highness, ” the oriental Chui said as she bowed to the King of a close by third world state, “and welcome to President Mobana Island.”
Then it was the turn of an African industrialist.
Then an interior minister and his weekend whore.
All of the worst that Africa had to offer were here today.
“Father?” Koko said watching from the cool of the general’s office, ” I think this is becoming an obsession with you. You have already broken the woman and proved your superiority. Why marry her?”
Koko had always enjoyed the admiring looks from her father’s sycophants. But lately she’d noticed it was her enhanced Barbie doll captive who caught their eyes more. She rubbed her fathers shoulders trying to get his attention.
“She’s not that special after all…is she father?”
The general just grunted as he signed papers. Koko gave a huff and put her hands on her fabulous hips. Then she stamped her feet frustrated at his indifference to her wounded pride.
“Be rid of the bitch,” she said exasperated.” I think…”
The general’s patience was as short as ever. He would have a man shot for questioning his orders. But his darling daughter was cut some slack.
“Silence!” He screamed rising from his seat, slapping her across the face.
“I think… I THINK! Since when do I ask you to think?”
Koko managed to remain standing taking the blow well. Her face was one not of anger but acceptance. She had spoken out of line but it needed to be said. She continued matching his angry stare, the gauntlet clearly thrown down. However her tone was more caring and concerned.
“I hear things father. The war, the rebels, I fear you are distracted to the point of recklessness.”
Koko’s spies in her father’s inner circle, many officers she bedded for their loyalty had told her tales. Tales of a man unable to conduct a meeting without the mention of his white bitch, or an update from Chui about her training cutting into an important council of war. They also looked worried whenever she mentioned the rebel losses that her father publicly boasted about. Were there any rebel losses?
The general did not strike her again instead raised his hand slowly as if to calm a tensed animal.
“I have not forgotten my duties.” He said fixing her with the confident gaze of a ruler;” but this women insulted me in front of my peers.” He pointed to yet another West African despot walking from his jet. “They will know today my power and my mettle as a leader. That is all the bitch reporter is to me; another battle honour.”
Koko nodded and apologised for lack of faith. As she left the building the mid morning heat of the equator hitting her body she was more convince than ever that he was lying.
*************
In her cell a brigade of women surrounded Rachael. She sat silently and without resistance as they tended to her make-up, hair and dress. What was the point anymore? She had heard that many people would be here today but reports of her premature demise getting to the worlds press didn’t seem to concern anyone. Madam Chui had explained, amused at seeing Rachael eyes light up in thought when she had been told about the audience
“You will find Miss Goodbody that secrets can be kept from the world as long as only the right people know. No one tomorrow will ever mention what they have seen.”
Rachael had realised with professional clarity she was right. They’d be rumours maybe even a story in the National enquirer along with all the Elvis sightings, “Missing TV babe becomes African slave queen.” But that would be as far as it went. Now sat in her beautiful white wedding dress she looked forlorn at the cheerful women who jabbered and laughed as they painted her nails and brushed her stunning golden locks into an exquisite crown-topping bun.
The captive reporter knew that the blackmailing Mobana could get at her sister with astonishing ease and that was a comfort to her. Bizarre as that might sound it meant it soothed the shame of submission. She really did have no choice at all now not even death could give her sanctuary as Mobana’s revenge on her sister would be swift and terrible. But so would her own… eventually. One-day years from now when so much had been done to her that few hardly remembered who she was and why she was here she’d already vowed to kill him; and her ex best friend, his daughter.
“Its time,” Chui said as she entered the cell,” stand!”
Madam admired the effort that had been put into her appearance. Rachael was looking breathtaking; with her hair up in the bun her long neck and slight frame seemed to hover in the long silk white gown. The gown was open at the front like an ice waterfall either side of her perfect globe tits, the pink nipples swollen as ever the melons heavy with the lactic potion injected into her for many weeks. The curve of her hips could be seen inside the gown down to her shaven bare slit. The gown framing her torso and then her long beautifully waxed legs the fabric pooling around her white high-heeled sandals.
Taking a harem slave as concubine was unheard of but after this West African voodoo ceremony most people in this backward cult driven society would not question her elevation to the ruling tribe; even if only as the family’s pet dog. Madam Chui nodded in begrudging admiration of her poise and demeanour even if the idea seemed ridiculous.
“Well a least you look like you are worthy of the honour.”
As Rachael walked out in slow elegant strides the madam followed giving words of warning.” Remember where you are and who you have become. Remember the dungeons and the excesses of the little Mobana. But above all remember your sister and what we can do to her.” Rachael took a gulp and nodded in obedience. The general had warned her that if he were crossed she would have to watch the image of her sister’s inevitable gang rape. She’d have to watch each night as she serviced her master until every scream and gasps was imprinted on her mind.
Chui signalled to her aides as Rachael’s hands were tied behind her back in strong silk binds; more as decoration than serious restriction. “Prepare for your entrance.”
In the great hall Mobana addressed his audience with a smug syrupy dialect of platitude and eager boasts. He explained the age-old belief of his culture that a great chief on taking the finest of his enemies women as his concubine would never be defeated in mortal combat. Koko listened close by head bowed in reverence and growing understanding.
“So that was it,” she realised, “did her father really believe the old religion or was it an act of desperation against a strengthening rebel foe?” Either way she knew his military commanders did and so did his loyal tribe, his toughest and most ferocious troops. Maybe his motives for this white bitch were sounder than she realised. Her old college friend would become his soldier’s greatest battle standard protecting them with the arcane powers of voodoo!
Mobana had continued his speech. “So behold my prisoner bride. A princess of our most hated nemesis; the arrogant western media.”
The African drums thundered through the high ceiling hall as two lines of dignitaries parted and she entered. Flanked either side by regal presidential bodyguards she looked like a small porcelain figurine in a long flowing white gown her steadying steps showing a glistening thigh and shin, her bosom rampant thrusting out exposed for lustful eyes, her shaven mound slightly hidden by the swirls of fabric.
The crowd looked in admiration and there was an audible gasp as quickly many eyes recognised the supposedly dead news hound, risen from the grave and enhanced for pleasure.
As the blonde beauty from the afterlife was slowly pushed down the aisle towards a high alter Rachael could pick out dignitaries of nearby states. Many she had seen or even interviewed before. None looked away in shame, quite the contrary most wanting to catch her gaze to look lustfully and arrogantly into her big piercing blue eyes. Each one was enjoying her embarrassed lip biting face and then looking in a respect and admiration to general Mobana as he glowed in pride.
“Yes this is my finest hour!” The fat dictator thought as his angel floated towards him.
Rachael was flushed in humiliation her silicon DD breasts a visual feast her total debasement evident to all. She’d come across his quasi-voodoo religion before while a guest in this country. It was a cruel and bizarre religion of sacrifice and mother goddess worship.
“What insane plans does he had in store for me?” She though as she took nervous high-heeled steps forward, the drums sounding.
Ahead a witch doctor danced and gibbered in strange tongues; large totem poles with crazy phallic carvings flanking his matrimonial alter. The general was there in his finest uniform looking triumphant, a preening peacock of a leader enjoying his occasion. Behind the witch doctor standing on a plinth was a huge ape of a man, a jet-black Nubian warrior maybe 6 foot 4 bulging muscles; thighs like tree trunks. He was naked apart from a loin cloth his shovel hands massaging together in preparation like he was an Olympic weight lifter about to go for gold. Rachael looked to her right to see Koko bowing in sarcastic courtesy along with the awful psychotic son, little Mobana.
The escorting guards pressed on her shoulder making the waif bride drop to her knees in front of the crazy holy man, his mask a multicoloured plumed extravaganza.
The drums continued to resonate a deep thunder throughout the hall. And Rachael felt the heat and noise like a soothing hypnotic blanket.
The ceremony was a wailing cacophony of dance and sacrifice. A chicken slaughtered then at its climax Mobana placing a gold collar around her elegant neck. As he did his foul breath spat words of contempt at her. “At last you know your place woman.”
The general stood back the crowd applauding the witch doctor prostrate on the ground exhausted by conversing with the nether world.
Koko and Madam Chui took Rachael’s bound arms making her climb the few steps to the altar plinth. There the huge Nubian stood his body glistening like a prize racehorse.
“Now in the tradition,” Koko said sweetly twisting her around forcing her to knell at the top of the steps, “the bride’s first duty is to suckle her new tribe in a sign of benevolence and generosity.”
“What?” Rachael gasped feeling the Nubian squat behind her his two powerful hands gripping her breast low down near their bases. His body pressed into her back pinning her tied arms his cupped palms holding her tits like a push up bra.
“Don’t worry,” Koko added as she stepped back and orderly queue of guests already forming, “the powerful beast behind you will do all the milking.”
And with that his hands tightened like vices her teats foaming then beginning to spit creamy fluid.
The first two down to her big pink nipples were her bodyguard escort. Both majors in the general’s army the bullet headed warriors mouths encircled her teats their hands by their sides the Nubian squeezing her breast the milk spurting onto their tongues as they sucked and licked. The men acted strange more reverent now eyes closed the enjoyment of savouring her breast added to by a halo of religious honour.
With each powerful squeeze she gave a little yelp until after a minute they both bowed and backed away lips dribbling as Rachael gasped see two more eager faces drop before her.
“Oh God not everyone! Please!”
As the drums hammered away the line of guests began their visit to the white fountains of Babylon.
The general was stiff in his pants the sight wondrous. His arrogant cock sure reporter now elevated to suckling voodoo mother of his tribe. The Nubian set about his task diligently his ape like palms unflinching in their tit attentions. Each powerful grope released a copious amount of milk into the mouth and onto the chins of one after another of the guests
Some sucked like angry hogs biting and pulling her big bags Rachael groaning as her nipples stretched. Others enveloped as much of her amazing globes as possible a steady stream of liquid spiting down their gullets.
Men and women seemed oblivious to any shame or remorse all accepting the bizarre tradition and dismissing the moans and obvious discomfort of the white woman as an irrelevance.
Rachael’s tits ached and the sensation of liquid release mixed with the sounds of slurping and the pressure of vice lick groping was a powerful concoction. The humiliation was unbearable. She shook her head looking to the ceiling as one man helped his own wife take Rachael’s white juice out of one then the other breast, the dutiful partner coughing with the load in her mouth.
Next the reporter’s eyes were wide in disgust as two fat old men, one a foreign business man the other the general’s health minister battled like a pair of ravenous dog chewing on her domes. The Nubian wrestled to keep hold of his milking bags as the men both who she had met and enchanted at cocktail parties seemed to become un hinged with lust and fervour. But they were only allowed a minute like all the rest and had to back away frustrated their big black lips glistening with her bounty.
The drumming helped her drift away. She imagined herself at home but the constant attention was never fully drowned. She hoped she’d feint or at least stop noticing each hungry lustful face as her breasts were fed to them.
Her enhanced bosom was a medical wonder. She now realised that the quiet professional doctor had gone about his task well. Each day injecting and weighing until he’d created these vessels of plenty.
When it came to Little Mobana and Koko’s turn she was thankfully becoming desensitised. The two siblings acted like all the rest. To see them you would have thought they’d never sampled her delights before as they pulled her nipples out to amazing lengths their teeth like pincers, their hungry slurps like camels drinking at an oasis.
As they stood Koko’s long fingers trailed down Rachael’s chest over her boobs then over the tiring Nubians hand. “My he is powerful isn’t he?” She said to Rachael as she gave him a lip licking come hither look, aware that his no doubt rampant erection would need some attention afterwards. The Nubians hands squeezed with excitement of possibility; but first he still had a long queue to deal.
********************
An hour later the general drank from his fine crystal as the man seated next to him at the banquet whispered, his eyes watching that no one else was listening.
“President,” he said with less reverence than Mobana’s subject,” the rebels are willing to talk. I think there will be an opportunity for peace.”
The general gulped more wine as the prime minister of his neighbouring country continued his message.
“My friend you may need to bow to some self rule in the north, but you will have peace.”
The general scoffed the prime minister a little annoyed as he had his own intelligence services who knew Mobana was losing this war. The general was distracted looking down the table. Another dignitary was razing his hand asking to begin the show.
“Please President Mobana it must be time for my gift,” he laughed. Then looking up to stroke blonde curls he added. “Even if just to give your new bride a chance to recharge.”
Above his head suspended over the banquet was Rachael. She was naked now apart from heels. Hanging like a high cliff diver legs together arms out wide. Her breast swayed as she tried to wriggle hanging down like two bladders of milk. And as she had groaned and writhed many guests had filled their cups with her fluids like some obscene human vending machine.
The entire table laughed agreeing that she must be milked dry by now and Mobana clapped his hands to his servants to begin the show. The prime minister gripped his arm the general’s indifference starting to bite.
“Mobana,” he said catching his eye,” you must meet them.”
The general’s smile faded and he nodded to his ally reluctantly in acceptance.
“Now,” he said belching wine not willing to discuss anymore,” watch my concubine in action.”
Rachael was aching and sore, as she stood naked and curvaceous in her high heels. The fantastic hairstyle was more bedraggled returning to her long curly cascade. She felt ridiculous in front of all these people but arched her back to relieve the strained muscles and her seated audience gasped at her expanding melons. Then she put her hand to her mouth as she recognised something being carried into the room.
It was the wicker chair with totem pole stirrups that she had used on her first day and many days after in his northern hellhole castle. She remembered Mobana wanking as he watched a nurse fist her tight strong pussy for the first time, until she came on the bitch’s wrist. The two men put the chair down then bowed to Rachael before leading her to the seat.
There was a buzz of excitement as she sat the men tying her hands behind the chair as before.
“No please,” she said looking at the general. “These were almost the only words she had spoken in hours.” Please not in front of all these people.”
As the two men lifted her knees then hooked her legs either side of the totem poles into a birthing position she shook her head in realization.
“Oh God he’s going to put his hand up me.” Then she thought back to the wedding guest queue and a more terrifying idea entered her min.” Oh fuck no not every one!”
It was strange relief when Miss Goodbody saw small men entering the hall. The two African pygmies were bald, naked and glistening with oils. They carried a silver jug of similar lubricant. The midget slaves hurried forward until they stood in front of the spread open woman.
The guest dignitary explained above a din of excitement and discussion.
“These are my gift President. Midget tribesmen tutored in love play and sexual arousal. They will delight and amused even the most decedent of audiences.”
The little men bowed then turned to Rachael their hands inside her thighs examining her. Their fingers trailed to her slit and they giggles as her silicone-enhanced clit popped out one of the dwarf native rubbing the tender bud between his fingers.
Rachael groaned her face flush his attention making her moisten almost immediately.
The other little man was on his knees his tongue licking up her slit his mouth opening her pussy so he could rim her tunnel entrance. Rachael’s body was already tensing her toes pointing as she tried to stretch herself another few inches. Although humiliating she couldn’t deny it was arousing her.
Mobana nodded in pride his bitch already responding to the sexual advances. He could see her clit red and fiery the black hands of small men pressing it between thumbs making it harden still
“Oh heavens ohhhhhhhhhhhhh!” She thrust her mound up to meet them the kneeling pygmy’s mouth now trailing spittle and her love juices. “Oh you dirty little fucks!”
The clit-rubbing midget took the jug and poured a steady trail down her tummy the river of lubricant filling her pussy, smearing her clit and collecting on the hole licking pygmies tongue. He pulled back rubbing his hand with oil into a fist.
She shook her head as she felt his hand turn to a ball and press on her womanly tunnel.
The crowd gasped in delight as his black fist entered her his arm sliding inside like her was searching for a lost item.
“Oh god ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”
The pygmy was touching points she never knew existed making her wail without care her eyes bulging her sore nipples like horns. Her chute was flooded, her own juice and the lubricant filling her nostrils with a sickly musk. The slime was running down the native’s hand dripping from his elbow.
As he withdrew his fist she sighed in ecstasy the other small man continuing to tickle and caress her fat maggot like clit. The sensation was making her see spots before her eyes.
The kneeling pygmy turned his head and spoke to the mesmerised guests.
“Now for your pleasure we will make this woman climax like she has never done before.”
The baldhead little man grinned his white teeth sparkling against his jet-black face. Then Rachael began to moan and shake her head. “Oh God what no…” The crowd were stunned in silence then burst into animated debate. The other pygmy was pouring the lubricant from the silver jug directly onto his little friend’s head the grease running down his face.
He bent down his shiny glistening head pressing against her open aroused slit like a torpedo tip. Rachael gave a high pitched yelp of shock, then looked to her husband shaking her head in panic.
“OH no, no you uggggggggggg!”
The man pressed forward his lubricated crown opening her up. Mobana was mesmerized as he could see the small mans head pressing harder, Rachael’s pussy lips stretching her face one of abject horror. There was a collective whistle as suddenly his temple then top of his head entered her body. Slopppp!
The young waif babe gave a horrendous moan. It was from an amazing sensation of openness her lips swallowing an incredible shape her inner flesh feeling his ears rubbing her shaft and his eye sockets bump over her labia rim.
Then she moaned again her eyes a blaze seeing all the guests’ mouths open in awe. The pygmy’s nose pressed at her hole his head shaking a little as Rachael’s pelvis writhed trying to back off.
“Ohh fuck no, no it’s uggggggggggggg!” As his nose slid inside her pussy the man gasping through his mouth she finished the sentence in her mind. “Not possible!”
She looked down over her cathedral domes her thighs so wide. HEr hooked legs in this birthing position the sight of the rear of a pygmy mans neck glistening with juices as he twisted his skull inside her pussy.
The other pygmy’s fingers rubbed her swollen clit the little mans eyes looking at her face seeing her growing tenseness as climax built.
“Oh no ohhh no ohhhhhh!”
Inside her hot tunnel the small face was awash with juice the feeling suffocating his mouth gulping air just outside her body. He felt her muscles squeezing, his head swelling her groin as he pushed up on his forehands, sliding slowly deeper.
She was coming.
The hall filled with her ecstatic screams as her body exploded. Her clit felt like she wanted the man to rip it from her body his fingers gripping it like a mini sausage on a stick. Her tunnel began to convulse her hips buck as she twisted the buried mans head like she was trying to break his neck. The pygmy was gripping the chair legs his shoulders strong and locked his dark hot world like a roller coaster ride at night
“Oh fuckkk, No you fucckkkkkk!”
She was screaming expletives her body a volcano of perspiration and energy. Her beautiful lips were in an air gasping pout her tits throbbing her swollen groin shuddering as she literally come on the man’s face.
His body started to spasm in suffocation; he’d had enough, his head pulling from her hole the juices dripping from his nose, his head a glistening hot mess.
As he pulled away his colleague reached down between Rachael’s wide thighs squeezing her labia together like a gasping mouth letting the orgasmic juice pump out like a cliff waterfall onto the marble floor as the blonde still continued to buck and writhe in subsiding frenzy. The voyeuristic crowed gasped as her slit poured its slimy contents like the pygmies silver jug, Rachael shaking her head in claustrophobic embarrassment unable to say anything apart from a long deep groan of relief.
*************************
It was late that afternoon when Rachael was escorted to the big green presidential helicopter. She didn’t know why but the general needed to fly back North that very night and he had no intentions of missing out on his wedding night. As she sat in the whining bird the red-carpeted passenger area like a waiting room she could see Mobana shaking hands with his friend and ally the prime minister of his neighbouring country. At his side Koko stood in heeled boots and military fatigue no doubt having spent the afternoon enjoying that enormous Nubian slave.
“Good luck my friend,” the prime minister. “They will meet you at dawn to begin the negotiations.”
Mobana nodded, “they will find me as serious a diplomat as I am a general,” he bragged
“Indeed.” The prime minister said stepping back and bowing with a smile.
The General saluted his two escorting guards and Rachael recognised them as her wedding escort, the officers who had suckled so proudly on her breasts.
The door opened and as the swirling evening heat filled the cabin the general, Koko and his officers entering. Koko gave her the slightest of nose-raised looks the general more of a commanding nod. But the two majors acted in reverence both saluting then lowering their eyes.
“See my soldiers,” the general laughed taking a sip of wine as the helicopter began to taxi, “with such a queen blessed by our gods the rebels must know their time is over, that is why they call this meet.”
Rachael gave the slightest of dismissive shakes of the head more in contempt than disbelief. The generals face narrowed but she had already realised in a way been married to him was safer than not. Koko went to slap her face and the general gripped her wrist the soldier’s faces one of horror. “Behave yourselves, both of you,” he snapped and the women sat there in arrogant silence.
As the evening jungle crawled below her craft like a widening slick of deep green Rachael realised where they were heading. She had stupidly hoped she was heading to the capital but that would have been too easy. No, she would never again come close to the western world. Instead she was heading back to that awful place of dominance and pain Mobana’s deep jungle fortress.
The regal cabin allowed a degree of sound proofing to the ferocious rota just above their heads and Koko taunted her old friend.
“You were spectacular today my queen,” she said with a sly grin. “All those months of training worked wonders didn’t it?” Rachael looked stern face back at her. The general had earphones on communicating with his command and was oblivious to their discussion.
“My father will tire of you and when that happens I’ll be waiting.”
Rachael gave the slightest of smiles. Koko was taken aback, was it a sly grin?
“Maybe he’ll tire of you first,” was her unexpected response.
The black beauty had no chance to continue their game as Mobana took off his headphones happy with the news.
“Tomorrow I will bring peace to my country,” Mobana said in a pompous rant. “A great leader can always be magnanimous in victory.” Koko’s eyebrow rose at this interpretation of ongoing events.
“Selfless as always to your duty father” She added in praise and possible mockery.
He lit a cigar reclining back on his seat looking at his new wife.
“But first I have a wedding night to enjoy.”
As the aircraft banked and dipped approaching the massive walls of his camp Rachael could see miles and miles of blackness, the Northern jungle home to the rebel army. Somewhere in that blackness lay the remains of her plane and film crew. She was just one more statistic in a war that appeared to be drawing to a close and with it any hope of her plight been revealed.
*************************
High up in the central keep of his jungle fortress Rachael slowly undressed under the lustful gaze of her new husband. Out side the pitch-black night hummed with insect choir and she was grateful of the big ceiling fan slowly wafting her perspiring body.
Mobana reclined on the ornate bed his body naked his fat rolls of skin looking like he had been winched into place. As she slid the negligee from her shoulders he gave the slightest of appreciative nods her naked hourglass body glistening in the pale light.
“Very beautiful,” he coughed taking a swig of wine then a puff of his cigar. He leaned forward to talk. He loved to talk. Loved to hear himself talk.
“You are my bride and my tribes bride. Such a over confident western bitch brought to her knees.” He crawled closer. “But life could be bearable if you allow it to be.” He caressed her thigh then up to her waist. “If you please me you could live many years in comfort.” His face then frowned. “Or you will live many years in distress.”
Rachael nodded feeling the potion he had given her take effect. She needed the relaxant, hungered for it even. She needed anything to take the edge of the reality of tonight, tomorrow and forever.
“Sir,” she said softly feeling his hand cup between her legs his palm pressing on her mound his fingers in the crack of her ass. “I’ll do whatever you say.”
He smiled then sat at the side of the bed.
“Very good my Queen,” he said putting his hand into a silver bowl at his bedside. “Now come here and bend over.”
His hand removed from the bowl a long sturdy sausage. The thing was a German frankfurter or bratwurst type food. A strong skinned meat in a thick cylindrical tube. The long food had been dripping with gel and the President traced the end down the crack of her ass as Rachael touched her toes her heels legs slightly apart.
She knew what to do, he’d already explained.
The evening began to rumble with thunder, as the weather grew more intense and humid. The president was now laid back on his bed, his hands on Rachael’s great rump. The blonde goddess was straddling his flabby chest her ass waving towards his face her head down between his thighs sucking on his cock. As she took deep long slurps she gave slight grunts of effort her anal muscles hard at work.
“Yes Rachael I can see it now, uhh good push, push harder as you fellate me.”
The generals eyes widened in enjoyment as while his bride dutifully blew his cock he could watch as a stiff greased sausage appeared from her anus. The rubbery skinned meat slowly snaked from her ass as the woman squeezed with all her might.
That’s it my queen, you swallowed it all the way in, now let me see you shit it back out.”
She could feel herself forcing the meat truncheon out like a stiff tail all the while his rampant cock in her mouth the eye hole seeping with enjoyment.
There was a crack of thunder and the blonde’s skin glowed with sweat like a fluorescent statue.
His hands kneaded her ass cheeks pulling them wide and Rachael’s head lifted and she gave a groan of humiliation as she squeezed the sausage all the way out the thing dropping on Mobana s chest slippery with gel.
“Hold tight,” Mobana coached and Rachael nodded and gritted her teeth.
Her yes widened and she froze then gasped as she felt the sausage press then slid back up her ass until her sphincter closed around it; the turd deep inside her again.
“I want to watch you do it again my dear. And again, and again.”
The big black tyrant pushed her onto her knees his body behind and as he knelt he slid his cock up into her pussy his hands on her ass cheeks again spreading wide awaiting the bratwurst tip to appear slowly from her anus again. Her tits swung heavy and pendulous and she gave a slight whisper and then began to push.
“Yes my President anything you command.”
It would be a long night.
******************************
Rachael was awoken in a painful thump on the bedroom floor. She had been sleeping across her master’s midriff when the big dictator had leapt from the bed sending her flying into a crumpled heap. As she rolled the dawn light filling the room she heard Mobana’s voice. It seemed different she had never heard him like this; it seemed agitated.
The dictator was pulling on a dressing gown and slippers as a bug eyed trooper had a message in his hand. As Rachael pulled her gown across her naked body she caught the final words as the two men hurried down the steps.
“Get me the capital I must speak with my son!”
Rachael pulled herself to her feet brushing her hair from her face pulling the long silk gown tight around her hips her breasts thrusting the fabric out like a crazy coke bottle shape.
As she turned away from the widow she felt the heat and pressure wave as her world was then turned upside down her hearing a high pitched buzz, her vision blacking out.
Mobana had reached the compound just as the first rocket hit. The aide had been ranting about the capital. There were rebels on the street the world media already in frenzy as they relayed the images back to the networks. He saw Koko was running towards him dressed in fatigues a machine pistol in her hand.
For a moment he was confused. Why did she need a weapon? He needed to speak to his son, but the man told him the line to the city was dead. Mobana wondered if his son was too.
As the rocket hit he flung himself to the ground the fortress beginning to erupt in small arms fire.
It had been an ambush. He pulled himself to his feet, Koko screaming.
“Father the capitals over run. The palace is in flames. You’ve been tricked.”
Another rocket hit the walls then a third exploding on the main gate.
Mobana’s face drained as Koko looked at him for guidance. But he was like a rabbit in the headlights. His troops were running to and fro the sounds of battle close by just on the other side of the fortress gate.
“Father?” Koko shouted the aide now running for his life.
Mobana ran too, pushing past his daughter pulling up his trailing dressing gown as the rotors on his big green helicopter parked across the compound began to spin.
Suddenly the gates gave way and through a cloud of smoke the figures of skinny jungle rebels began to dance between tracer fire. Koko was running also, chasing her fleeing father as a battle royal began in the courtyard. Mobana was already in the helicopter screaming to the pilot the rotors spinning at take off speed.
“Father don’t leave me!”
The chopper was lifting and Mobana never looked out to see his daughter fall.
At that very moment a dazed, deafened Rachael stumbled out into the chaos. She swayed in her bare feet the tight silk gown billowing in the morning wind and rain. The muddy compound was red with blood but she hardly noticed taking cross over steps as if any second she’d fall.
Her ears were still ringing and she could only sense the hiss of bullets as Mobana’s elite troops held on grimly to an inner circle of sandbags and wrecked vehicles.
She looked up almost falling as she shielded her eyes to the beating rain. The big green bird thundered overhead the “thumpa” sound of its blades resonating on the sodden earth. Close by rebel troops ignored the woman and levelled their rocket launchers at the target.
Then for or the second time in minutes Rachael was on her back the heat of the explosion like a flash bulb in her face.
She never saw it hit the ground only felt the flames and smell of kerosene as the wrecked burned in a hundred pieces.
She stood again like a drunken fool lurching into danger. The noise and carnage danced around her as like some white robed ghosts she floated across the battlefield.
Her foot felt something and she tripped.
It was Koko; the girl a crumpled bullet riddled mess. Rachael’s gripped the babe’s hair pulling her head up. She was dead and Rachael felt the anger, cheated of her revenge. She saw men close by the shouts of pain and anger beginning to filter into her deafened world. The slice of a rebel bullet spattered her with blood and the beautiful blonde waited for the final killer round as she began to feint.
From the redoubt the presidents tribal soldier charged with the passion of voodoo and Rachael’s vision saw double as a line of men thundered towards her their features snarling in death faces.
***************
She awoke to silence. The feted jungle air closed around her body and she realised she could see the stormy sky above. How long had she been lying here? In a moment she pulled her body upright. Her nightgown was torn and smeared and as she stood her arm felt limp the pain dull, but the wound dressed.
She was back in the keep. On her wedding bed the damaged room now open to the sky, the bed more like a lop side ramp. She stood then limped to the balcony. The doors were smashed hanging by threads and as she pushed them open they collapsed.
She could see down into the war zone. The battle was over.
All around the rebel bodies were piled high as sweat-smeared soldiers collected their defeated enemies. She couldn’t know but across the country the uprising had failed. But she did know one thing; she was still here. She began to sob her tears matching the morning down pour. Even now she hadn’t died; the nightmare just wouldn’t end.
The sexy prisoner heard the shout of soldiers and she shook her head in frustration.
Below in the compound the major one of her wedding escort saw her and gave a tribal cry. Rachael’s beautiful face looked up and her eyes showing a flicker of life force as she struggled to understand. The soldiers on mass had knelt in the red stained earth the rain and wind beating down around them. The major was the only one to raise his head and gaze on their divine talisman.
He knew Mobana was dead, so was his daughter and now they had heard his son was too. Only one of their tribe’s regal line remained to lead them as she had already victoriously done this very day; walking between her enemies with the majesty of an immortal.
As the down pour increased in this twisted dark heart of a continent the hundred or so kneeling warriors paid dutiful homage to their new Queen.
THE END