I paid a visit to Victoria, she was in the yard as usual but chained up, I queried it with Michele but he said someone had tried to steal her, she lay against the wall, some nasty boils spoiled her looks, Michele had trained his dog to piss on her and the infections would not heal up.
”Get her cleaned up and chain her in the hole.” I instructed.
He chucked a bucket of water over her and dragged her inside.
I needed someone to go to England for me to set things up so Victoria and her baby, my baby, could go home.
I checked the Bank records and found a lady, Celia Duncan, who had a sterling account with the bank who was clearly living off capital, and her balance was just about exhausted, in fact she could barely cover the next months direct debits, she was twenty two, our records showed she had dual nationality, so she could go to England with out a visa or any hassle, and when I phoned her she sounded very definitely white.
I asked her to come in, she was a bit plain, mousey haired, nondescript, and worried.
”I am worried about your direct debits.” I told her as I looked at her from across my office desk.
”You’re worried, I can’t sleep at night.” she admitted.
It rapidly became clear she was involved with pre school children but no one could afford school fees let alone pre school fees any more and she had no income, husband or boyfriend, her parents were dead but she had dual nationality so would have no trouble entering England, but as a downside she preferred girls to men.
”What do you plan to do when the funds run out?” I asked.
She held her head in her hands, and shook her head.
”Then would you consider a proposition?”
“What, do you mean, something sexual?” she sensed my interest.
”Take my baby son back to England.”
“What?”
I explained, she was to look after Jon until they bonded then take him home to my mother.
She agreed, immediately and within forty five minutes she had signed the agreement I put before her without reading the small print, the bit about providing such sexual services as I might require.
Celia spent a while clearing her apartment, packing disposing of junk that sort of thing and then she moved in, I arranged for Jon to be returned when Celia had settled in.
Celia was fine, she moved some of her stuff in that first afternoon but come evening she was very cold and distant, I wanted our first time to be warm and cosy, but she put up quite a fight, shouting and screaming, oblivious to the soundproofing, eventually I got her hands secured behind her back with handcuffs and got her trousers and voluminous blue knickers down only for her to knee me in the groin, the pain was intense. I staggered away and sat down for a while then I just grabbed her and forced her legs apart, applied loads of lube shoved a condom on and simply shoved my manhood up her gloriously tight love tunnel.
”It hurts, don’t, please, stop, please.” she wailed, but I was enjoying the experience far too much to stop.
I shot my load in her and lay still, she still had a cardigan and bra covering her tits and I soon had them up round her neck so I could nuzzle her tits, I dared not suck Msala’s tits as she was lactating, but Celia’s were lovely specimens.
”Mmm” she sort of half muttered, then asked “Why did you rape me, you bastard?”
“You signed to say you would provide sex” I pointed out, I went and found a copy of the agreement. “See.”
She read “Oh god, It’s nothing personal but, you see I like girls.”
“You’ll like men better when I have finished with you.” I told her. “I like sex three or four times a day.” In her naievity she thought I was exaggerating.
I handed her the phone, “Care to ring the Police?”
She shook her head, “In England perhaps”
“Then the deal is off,” I stated bluntly.
”Ten thousand pounds.” she blurted out, “I want an extra ten thousand”
“O.k ten thousand, and that gets me all the sex I need, deal?”
“Twenty” she tried.
“Twenty then, do we have a deal?” I demanded.
”Oh, I never expected. ” She said, “You will pay twenty thousand?”
“Gold or deposit in a UK bank?” I asked.
”Uk please, oh god this makes me a whore.” she gasped
I shoved my prick in her face, “No but this does.”
She kept her mouth shut but I was so excited I came over her left eye , the spunk dripped down and off her chin on to her bare breasts.
”Filthy pig,” she chided. “Do you really have a child for me to look after or do you just want to humiliate me?”
I felt guilty, I just wanted sex from her, “No Jon is real enough, I just need sex and you are an attractive woman, I am just using you. I am sorry you feel humiliated.”
I wiped her chin and started to wipe her breast but it was obvious she was getting excited once again. “Let’s go to bed,” I suggested.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
I collected Victoria from the Brothel one afternoon, the evidence of her improvised Caesarian writ large across her belly, and clothed only in a blanket I took her to the Bank, to my room, room 604
I fetched my tools, an angle grinder and an aluminum sheet backed by wood to use as a heat shield, and started to grind off her manacles, it took a long time.
She seemed unsure of what I intended, frightened even, but had no objection when I filled a bath with warm water and ordered her to climb in.
The water turned brown almost instantly and then when I turned the shower on and aimed it at her head the dirt cascaded down her face.
I emptied the bath and started to fill it again, she was scrubbing herself raw, I had to take the scrubbing brush from her, “Its sunburn not dirt” I told her. Then I started to unpick her hair it took hours, and it was in awful condition, I helped her wash it, with shampoo.
”Why are you doing this?” she asked.
”The fucking baby, it was mine, right?”
“Unfortunately yes.” she replied.
”So it needs looking after, and you can’t do that in a fucking shit hole.”
It was late into the night when I finished grooming her, it was very restful, like grooming a horse, sitting combing her long dark hair, she must have thought she was dreaming, to be treated so tenderly. I kissed her neck, she responded, she though I wished to make love.
I kissed her again, kissed her breasts, each one and then I moved down kissing her belly and then her engorged clit, as it stood erect like a tiny penis. I lifted her and laid her gently on the floor.
She never suspected a thing, I was kissing her, administering loving caresses, almost at the point so she thought of seeking penetration, when suddenly she felt the tool cold against her clit the pressure both sides as I tightened the clamp and then she certainly felt the pain as I fired the pure gold rod through her most tender part.
Her scream was beautiful, like Pavarotti hitting High C, pure terror.
I admired my handiwork and released the clamp and quickly laid the tool aside , the tool a sort of double barrel grey cylinder about eight inches long with its separate clamp at the end of its lower chamber simply fired gold rod through the skin and flesh, possibly bone as well, although I had not tried it, propelled by a standard point one seven seven bullet, no needles no freezing, bang and it’s done, a rod ready for curling into a ring. I designed and made it myself.
She continued wailing as cut the rod to length and started to curl it round, it was soft so it was easy, and then when it was perfectly round, I assembled the two heat sinks and my tiny blow lamp on the heat shield and as she sobbed uncontrollably as she looked down horrified I soldered the ring closed.
She carried on sobbing as I undressed, she dutifully spread her legs, she even held her lower lips open and then I simply shoved my Penis straight into her, one not very energetic shove took me ball deep, she was so wet and soaking, it was not satisfactory, she was supposed to be tight like a virgin.
I shut her up by kissing her, running my tongue round her toothless cunt of a mouth, then she started a different sort of moan, she hated herself, I knew but her orgasm was building and she could do nothing about it, her cunt muscles seemed to be dancing a fandango and suddenly I was coming, shooting my sperm deep inside her.
We lay still afterwards, two sweating bodies together yet worlds apart. I had work to do, I took my set of gauges, brass rings, each a different size which fitted a different size wooden plug in their polished mahogany box, carefully I tried them on her fingers and toes and wrote down the size of each, she had no idea why I was doing it, and she would never have believed me had I told her.
”You hurt my back, will you rape me in a bed next time please.” she suggested, some of her old bravado creeping back.
”Fine,” I said, I stood up, basically knackered, and gently hauled her to her feet by her hair before walking the short distance to my room where I threw her on the bed. “Your turn to be on top.”
She just lay there, so I left her and tidied room 604. When I returned she was sleeping so I just covered her with the Duvet and joined her.
The first rays of the morning sun woke me and my first touch of her bloodied and swollen freshly pierced clit woke her with a start, a few exploratory caresses between her legs brought the lubrication necessary, and I lifted her and slid her gently down on to my prick. She was quiet this time, no tears, just slightly ragged breathing to betray her excitement and enjoyment.
”Do you like married life?” I asked her.
She realised straight away, “I signed a marriage license didn’t I?”
I nodded. “Honor and Obey. you already got the ring.”
The day passed quickly, she found a pair of Levis and a Tee shirt in my drawers and we went shopping for some clothes, not the easiest of tasks in the wilderness that was depression wracked Harare but we found some second hand outfits, and bits and pieces, and then I took her to my dentist and the optician.
We came home with clothes and promises, but it cost me several gold rings and a diamond necklace, paper money being worthless here, promises of glasses and false teeth
She moaned about the clit ring, and at one stage I am sure I caught her masturbating, certainly she was very keen to put a skirt on and made no comment when I said she was not to wear underwear.
”It’s driving me mad,” she confessed.
”Good” I replied as I gently caressed it, making her face contort in pleasure.
I needed to keep her aware of her status so one evening I took her back to Michele’s brothel, she knew better than to complain and I took her to her former workplace, the Glory hole, she expected to be stripped I am sure but instead I sat on the floor and held her hand as with the light switched out she waited for customers.
I squeezed her hand as the tip of a stinking black prick appeared and she stooped to take it in her mouth, my hand massaged her clit ring gently and she squirmed in pleasure and confusion then I took my hand away, she tried to look round then I saw her desperately trying to pleasure herself with her own fingers, suddenly the guy was spurting and she was pushed over the edge of orgasm and she collapsed on the floor as he withdrew.
”Bastard,” she whispered.
A second prick appeared shortly after and as she started to suck I moved round behind her in the darkness and flipped her skirt over her back before shoving my prick deep within her, I slid my ands under her shirt to caress her breasts and whispered so softly
“I love you”.
She tried to clean the poor guy up after but I was still banging into her, and she started crying out, “Yes Yes,”
“What the fuck” asked the guy waiting at the hole and Michele had to admit she was doing two customers at once.
”That’s dirty” he said as he shoved his prick through and she started to suck. This time we all came just about together, she had black mans spunk going down as white mans spunk went up and she seemed to be enjoying the experience.
I ushered her straight from the hole, straight into the street and straight to an exclusive restaurant, she could not eat much with no teeth but she wished to taste of spunk from her mouth with soup and caviare followed by Ice cream, and then I gave her a little present, a ring, platinum with diamonds, I slid it on to her finger to signify our engagement, I knew it would fit.
”Your head really is screwed up.” she told me.
”I’ll have it back then.” I suggested.
“Love and cherish,” she reminded me, she smiled, I guess it was the first time I had seen her smile, the lack of teeth spoiled it.
I think it was Newton who wrote about actions and equal reactions, well when we got home she found the flip side, the toe rings, a gold band on each toe, I had to split and solder the big toe rings using heat shields and heat sinks but the little pinkies just needed soap and agonising force.
She looked fantastic, her toes glittering, walking was agony, but who cares, she cried a bit and called me a bastard again, but later she said sorry and asked if I wanted a fuck.
”Do you?” I asked.
”Yes,” she admitted.
So I guess we made love.
She was admiring her toes next morning, she tried to pretend she hated the gold bands but I knew she was vain enough to trade a lot of pain for the right look.
Again we went shopping, glasses and teeth, suddenly she was the sort of girl you could take home to mother again, I bought her some ridiculously expensive high heels with open toes to show her toe rings off, and suddenly I figured I needed to smarten myself up. she was certainly getting the stares of the low lifes many of who had probably been sucked off by her not so long ago.
She was learning her place, tottering on high heels, her toes ringed like a native whore.
”How is my baby?” she asked.
”Our baby, He’s fine, but you can start work at the Brothel properly now, now you got teeth and everything, no need to worry about Aids or diseases because I am going home, to England, so I don’t need you any more.”
She stood sobbing, “Look after him. please.” It was the right answer.
”Would you like a drink before I escort you to the Brothel, sort of a farewell drink, we got off on the wrong foot, but I would like to think we part as friends.”
She nodded, I stood back and motioned for her to step inside, then I showed her to my room again, made her sit while I spread her legs and marveled at how fuckable her cunt looked, then lifted her gown from her, her tits were still tiny, “I must confess I am worried that you may misbehave back at the Brothel, so Jon sent this.”
I showed her the restraint Jacket, he called it a straight Jacket, white with long sleeves which ended with tapes which tied round behind the wearer.
She looked so sad, but knew she had to co operate, and she allowed me to slip it over her, making no comment as I fastened the buckles then wrapped her arms round her to tie them securely behind her.
”Do you want to go back to England, live in a big house, ride your horse to the Fox Hunting or work in a brothel again?” I asked.
”Oh my God you are twisted.” she squealed, “I can cope with the brothel, I hate it, but perhaps one day.”
I interrupted her, “Big house or Brothel?”
“Big House of course but you can’t make it happen so don’t torment me.”
I eased her up from her chair jammed a eight inch dildo against her anus and waited as she slowly and painfully subsided driving it inch by agonizing inch inside her.
”Don’t doubt me” I told her, “If I want you to run my Manor House, be my fuck slut, and ride to hounds with your posh friends that is what you will do.”
“You are getting off on this, aren’t you?” she stated flatly.
I nodded and whipped my penis out and started wanking over her, “Yes,” I admitted, do you hate me?”
“Yes.” she agreed as the stream of creamy cum flew through the air to splatter her white jacket.
”Now, there is a problem because I love you, because you are my child’s mother.” her stare of confusion was priceless.
I helped her to drink a glass of milk, holding it to her lips as she drank, she never tasted the sedative and soon she was sleeping peacefully.
I guess I never considered that she wouldn’t want the Manor house life because the plan was already set up to repatriate her, all I had to do was make a phone call to confirm the arrangements, I started to make her look respectable, then I made the call.
The Dildo was surprisingly difficult to remove, but I had her cleaned up when the Ambulance arrived, cleaned up and respectable with Jog pants and slippers, and then as they took her on the stretcher, I too left the building taking the hired truck I had loaded up earlier.
We stopped about thirty kilometers north of the city, a rough airstrip, just mud on the African plain but to the minute an old wartime Dakota landed and we were aboard in what seemed like seconds. We flew noisily and low to civilisation, and transferred to a chartered Lear jet configured for Medevac duties. I even wangled clearance to land at RAF Northolt instead of Heathrow because “My Wife” was traumatised by being captured and held to ransom by Gorillas.
From Northolt we travelled north, Victoria in an ambulance and me in a taxi towards Buckinghamshire and a rehabilitation unit or lunatic asylum to give it it’s original Victorian title.
It was a former Victorian vicarage, set in immaculate gardens tended by two full time gardeners, Lesbians, chosen so the did not impregnate the inmates and Victoria joined twenty other patients and she slowly settled in to a restful pattern of life, sedated most of the time.
I flew home to Harare leaving her in their capable hands.
I already had a substantial shareholding in the asylum so I gradually bought the other shareholders out to become sole owner and then I started to move the business to a new unit, a former country house hotel five miles away.
As the business was being wound up and as the nurses and patients drifted away, builders came and started to transform the building into a house again and soon Victoria was the only patient left together with a few nurses, working shifts to cover the 24 hours.
They gave her a refurbished room on the second floor, her things had reappeared, she was allowed out of her restraint jacket more and more and then one day she was told to move into the master bedroom. “Your Husband is coming to visit,” she was told.
She looked radiant as I arrived, I spent a bloody fortune on a Saville Row suit to impress her, and she looked down from the steps under the portico, as I parked the Bentley.
”Hello darling” I greeted her,
She bounded down the steps like a gazelle.
”Hello, are you taking me away?” she asked hopefully, the months of sedation having dimmed her memory.
”Hardly, I just spent two Million doing the old dump up, I thought we could take a spin and look at some horses.” I replied
She looked puzzled.
”You can’t ride to hounds on a push bike.” I pointed out.
She looked bewildered, “What?”
“You heard, and you did not ask about Jon,”
“Jon?” she asked.
”Our son.”
“Oh”.
She liked the Bentley, she had dreamed of a Bentley, a proper one, Like a re badged Rolls Royce, I knew she would just love it, she had expected to earn one as she worked her way through the Bank heirarchy, but she had earned it simply by marrying me, Oh and by walking through customs with about five million pounds worth of diamonds sewn into her restraint jacket.
We drove towards Newbury, I pulled over to the side of the road and told her to drive, she needed her confidence built up, ready to cut it down again, and she struggled to cope with the Bentley’s power, I sneakily turned the Traction control back on before she killed us, and we cruised westwards, “That miles not Kilometers” I reminded her as she kept religiously to 100 mph, thinking it was 100 kph or 62 mph.
”Oh fuck” she replied and then I had he pull over as we approached the rolling Downland
“Do you like it?”
“Yes,” she smiled, the sun glinting off her perfect dentures, I decided to get her mouth filled with some genuine fake teeth, it would be agony for her, but that was a bonus.
I held her hand, and said quietly. “You are a stupid bitch.”
She looked wide eyed.
”You nearly fucked all this up. the house the cars” I continued as she stared. “I was systematically emptying all the safe deposit boxes of Mugabe’s henchmen. I’ve already shifted nearly a hundred million’s worth, mainly diamonds and gold, and as yet I have barely cashed in the tip of the iceberg, so if you turn me in, you lose everything,” I paused, “or you can enjoy all this.”
Her eyes filled with greed “I don’t know what to say,” she admitted, she switched the motor off. shifted in the seat, and demanded. “Will you let me take the rings off my toes, and see if I can get some proper teeth implanted.”
She seemed surprised when I just said “Fine.”
“Oh,” she said.
”It’s all right, you will think of something else.” I acknowledged.
”I want to see mummy and daddy,” she added.
“It can be arranged,” I agreed.
”No you are lying.”
“No,” I reiterated firmly, “now drive, we have horses to see.”
She drove on, the confidence slowly returning.
The Sat Nav took us easily towards the narrow lane leading to the stables, a quadrangle of loose boxes, with an arched gateway stood to one side of an impressive modern farmhouse.
The gates were firmly closed, we could see the stables across a hundred yards of immaculate white gravel, I suppose I could have got out and opened the gate myself but I chose to hold the horn button down, a face appeared at an upstairs window, then a girl was sprinting across towards us.
”Sorry,” she gasped between ragged breaths, “Should have been waiting.” her eyes added “you lazy bastard.”
“Steady.” I advised Victoria as we crunched across the gravel, making the girl jog to keep up with us, her brown hair swaying in the breeze, and her breasts jiggling nicely.
The horse was nothing special, it looked nice, but the owners had realised it would never make the grade for “Events” as they called them, show jumping, dressage and cross country and so he was on sale, still a cool hundred thousand but then they paid quarter of a million for him, a year previously.
The owner appeared. “Oh my god it’s Julian.” Victoria exclaimed.
”Victoria, this is Julian Peters, we served together briefly.”
“Charmed” he said looking straight through her, completely oblivious to the fact that he had fucked her and even offered marriage not so very long ago.
She shrank back. “Hello.”
“And this is my wife Caroline.” Peters indicated the breathless girl I had made run.
We wandered through the arch and along to the stable, most of the stalls were empty, but a noble black face peered out from one.
“And this is Eastwind Avenger.” Julian observed.
“He’s lovely!” Victoria said earnestly.
“Do you like him? you’ll have to muck him out and that sort of thing.”
She nodded.
“It’s a lot of money pumpkin, but if you want it you shall have it.”
“Yes!” she said excitedly and she turned and kissed me spontaneously, “I love you!”
Julian went green with envy as I handed over a bankers draft for the full amount, “Looks like we have a deal!” I said with no attempt to negotiate or beat the price down.
Victoria stared at me, “John,” she said, “Where is little Jon, where is my baby?”
“In safe hands, Celia Duncan is looking after him,” I assured her, “She’s expensive but.”
“You’re screwing her.” Victoria deduced, I smiled.
“John,” she said, “Can we start again.”
“No, lets just carry on,” I suggested, “I own the house, I’ll move in.”
“John,” she said, “I want another baby.”
“Sure, as many as you like but,” I cautioned, “Mine, ok?”
“Ok,” she said, “There’s some fresh straw in that stable.”
“Oh yes,” I agreed, “Shall we.”
“Yes!” she agreed, and she sprinted for the stable door, “What are you waiting for!”