Kirstie stepped tentatively into the bar. She had
arrived that evening from New York, but was too excited
to catch up on her sleep. At last, she was here!
In Africa, on a safari holiday!
She had flown in with a group of Americans and had been
met at the airport by the safari firm, where she had
met the other people who would be on the tour with her.
Some of them were in the bar, but they did not seem to
have noticed her. They were a mixed bag. Two couples,
two families with their kids, and one other single
woman travelling alone. Her name was Ruth, she was
about 25, and she did not seem very friendly. Not
apparently wanting Kirstie as a holiday friend. This
had disconcerted Kirstie. Only in her late teens, this
was her first holiday alone. Her rich parents thought
she was staying with Susan, and her family, at their
cabin in the mountains.
She stepped deeper into the crowded bar. The reality
was beyond anything she had imagined. She was shocked
by the teeming mass of black people. The smell in the
bar was of humanity at its most pungent. Most of the
crowd in the bar were black African men, with a few
tourists among them. Obviously, the local Africans used
this bar as well as the hotel guests.
She could have gone into the rooftop bar but meeting
black men had been one of her teenage fantasies. There
were a few black women in the bar. They did not look
particularly respectable. She suspected they were
whores looking to make money from the white tourists.
They were certainly very aggressive in chatting up the
white men, even when their wives were present.
She had never seen so many black people in one place
before. It shouldn’t have, but it still came as a
surprise to her to being in a country where nearly
everyone was black. African, she corrected herself. She
must be careful not to offend.
As she headed for the bar, the crowds parted. It was as
if she was walking through the sea, and the water was
parting for her. She was surrounded by sea of smiling
black faces. She jumped as a hand cupped her bottom in
a quick squeeze then darted between her legs from
behind. She whirled in fury that someone would have
dared to touch her. She glared at the laughing African
men behind her. They were much older than her. She
tried to decide which one had been the groper, but
their laughing eyes and smiling faces defeated her.
They took no offence at her belligerent scowl that
would have scared off her college suitors. They pressed
forward trying to talk to her, offering her their
drink. Cheeky grins prominent.
She realized that she had nothing to fear from these
smiling faces. Only warmth and laughter was in their
eyes.
Nevertheless, she backed away from this group of rather
forward men. She dodged through a gap in the crown and
reached the crowded bar. Surprised that almost by magic
a gap had opened for her. Even the barman seemed to be
awaiting her arrival. “Coke, please,” she asked the
barman who grinned and fetched a Coke, as she watched
he stopped and put some Bacardi in it.
“No, no just Coke,” she protested. He grinned. “On the
house, madam.” His grin was infectious, and Kirstie
couldn’t help but smile. She took the drink, looking
nervously at it. She had not had many alcoholic drinks.
In America, she would not even be allowed in a bar,
never mind given alcohol. This was another first for
her.
She jumped!
Someone else had groped her!
A hand on her leg, up underneath her lightweight skirt!
She whirled around, to be met by more laughing eyes,
and grinning faces. She scowled, but who to scowl to?
“On holiday, miss?” “Have you been here before, miss?”
“Do you have any friends as pretty as you?” Laughter
all around, Kirstie could not help but smile. “You’ll
see lots of animals. Lots of birds.”
“Will I see dangerous animals?”
“We are all around you, miss!” They roared with
laughter.
“Come and sit down, miss.” “Over here.” “No, over
here.” “Next to me.” Kirstie was confused. There seemed
to be such an eager, cheerful crowd of men. She had
never been the centre of so much attention of so many
men so much older than herself. She was used to the
boys at school. As the daughter of one of the town’s
prominent businessmen, she was used to being treated
with a certain respect.
She looked around for people from her group. What few
there were in the bar where equally besieged. She tried
to head for one of them. The crush of Africans was
thick. She could feel them pressing against her. Hands
seemed everywhere. She tried to avoid them but whenever
she turned hands seemed to accidentally touch, or not
so accidentally touch.
To brush her bottom, her waist, her breasts, her bare
legs, even! She pushed hard, but it was no good, the
press was too thick. She turned back to the bar,
resting her drink and gathered herself.
Africans were all around her. Is this not what she had
wanted? Some were whispering to her, but she could not
hear from the noise in the hotel bar. It was all so
overpowering. Another drink appeared in front of her.
One of the Africans was holding it out to her. She
turned to look at him.
He was big!
I mean REALLY big.
There was laughter in his eyes, which seemed to be
laughing and admiring at the same time. He pushed the
drink towards her and she took it. She smiled back at
him, nervously. He leaned forward to try and hear what
he was saying. That was when the hand touched her
again, high on her thigh. Inside again, beneath her
skirt.
She froze.
Smiling faces in all directions. The crowd was so tight
around her she was unable to tell whose hand it was! It
moved, stroking gently. Kirstie felt like a prisoner,
trapped in a sea of men. It was as though the press of
men had conspired to pin her in position giving her
groper a free rein. She couldn’t believe this was
happening. Who would dare?
The hand was gentle, soft, warm. It stroked in circles.
Her nipples stiffened. Kirstie cursed her body for
betraying her. She shouldn’t be aroused by a stranger’s
hand. It was so weird to be standing in a bar, with a
man’s hand under her skirt and not even know whose it
was! She wriggled her hips to throw it off, and there
was giggling around her. She realized these men could
see her nipples had become erect though her tight T-
shirt. It was embarrassing.
She turned to the gentleman who had offered her a
drink. He smiled and she edged closer. He was big. He
would keep the others off, she reasoned.
She twitched as his hand slid around her shoulders and
pulled her closer to him. The other hands slid away.
To her surprise, she realized she missed the warm touch
of that caressing hand. What on earth was the matter
with her? Her rescuer, for that was how she considered
him now, was whispering in her ear. She could not hear
him, but he was gesturing to an alcove where there was
some seating. She nodded, and allowed him to lead her
there.
She would be able to sit down and she would be safe
there, sheltered from the crowd. She moved forward, and
his hand slid around her waist. He was so strong, she
realized. She could feel his muscles ripple across his
arm.
The alcove she found was crowded suddenly, as African
men poured in to the alcove behind them. She was
pressed and crowded by laughing, grinning faces.
“You like to party?” Kirstie nodded. The Africans
roared their approval. “You party girl, yes?” Kirstie
grinned. Parties she understood. “I like parties!”
“Yeah!” they roared and Kirstie smiled.
The Africans were talking rapidly among themselves, and
Kirstie could not understand them. She looked at her
rescuer. His eyes met hers and she shivered. It was a
strange, tingling shiver. She felt herself moisten and
was shocked. No man had ever made her react like this.
He was a big male animal and he wanted her. Just like
all these other men wanted her, she realized. She would
have to be very careful. This was not America. This was
not a game. This was the real world, with real men.
The surrounding crowd of African men did little to hide
their admiration. Bantering, joking, laughing smiling
eyes that fondled in much the same way that hand had
stroked. Her “friend” nodded at her. “You’ll be safe
with me.” His hand rested on her bare thigh. She
nodded. Another drink appeared in front of her.
“Do you like dancing?” she asked the Africans around
her. They looked at her. “Yes, we like dancing. Too
crowded here. You come with us and we take you dancing.
We party!” More laughter. Kirstie nodded.
“Is there a club nearby? A nightclub?”
“We have our own club!”
Laughter and giggling greeted those words. The hand on
her thigh stroked and Kirstie relaxed. It felt nice.
She was feeling woozy. Nice, but woozy. The hand was
hot, stroking, sliding on her bare flesh. It was too
hot to wear stockings. She looked at the hand.
It was black, so black on her white flesh. She shivered
again. Her nipples were really hard. She looked at the
Africans who were talking to her. She could see their
eyes on her hard nipples. They knew! She flushed, and
they laughed. She flushed again.
Inside, she was glowing. A strange warm glow centred in
her loins. She must be careful, she realized. Only one
more drink, and then she must sleep. But the drinks
kept coming. She found herself excited at the eager
African eyes.
It was as though they were making love to her with
their eyes. Caressing her, fondling her. Stripping her.
Instead of being shocked or afraid, she found herself
even more aroused. Wet between her legs! Her panties
were soaked.
She stood up, and wobbled lightly, to more laughter.
Hands supported her.
“Party Time!”
“No, I must sleep now.” African eyes grinned at her.
“No time for sleep! Holiday time! Party time! Dancing!
Fun! You come with us, we show you the best time ever.”
Kirstie could not help but laugh at their enthusiasm.
“No, no, time to sleep!” They smiled, and urged her
forward. Kirstie allowed them to guide her through the
bar. It seemed much easier with the Africans helping
her. Suddenly she was outside, in the balmy African
evening. It was so refreshing outside, a lovely,
comforting warmth. With wonderful smells from the
hotel’s lush garden.
How did she get here?
She was supposed to be going to the hotel lobby. She
turned, but the Africans were surging out behind her.
“Party time!” They yelled, grinning at her.
“No,” she tried to explain, but it was no good, they
were not having any of it. She laughed as arms around
her waist virtually lifted her off her feet. These
Africans were so strong! She snuggled against her
protector, offering no resistance as he carried her
away.
“Well, only for a little while,” she whispered to him.
The Africans whooped, and led her in a crazy dance
across the pristine grass-covered lawns of the hotel,
past the swaying palm trees, and under the glittering
starlit sky. They laughed and whooped with Kirstie, but
their eyes were watchful for the hotel security men.
For the police who would no doubt question them if they
found them with this pretty white girl.
Kirstie looked up. Where were they?
They had gone only a few hundred yards from the hotel
and yet the transformation. The road had become dust.
Shanties lined the street. There were no more street
lights. She looked at her escort. He grinned and
tightened his grip around her waist.
“Where are we going?” She was nervous. They could tell
it from her voice. They grinned. The predators had
snared their prey. Soon it would be time to play with
their prize.
They turned through the narrow maze of alleys, through
the shanties until they stopped. They listened. There
were some whisperings. Then they led Kirstie inside the
nearest shanty.
Candles and oil lanterns lit the interior. It was
musky. Music started up, and one of the Africans handed
her a drink. She drank it nervously.
“I’ll have to go soon.” They grinned. She could see a
feral lust in their eyes, a greedy naked hunger that
she had never seen in the eyes of men. She quivered,
and turned to her rescuer.
“Come little lady, let’s dance.” She slid into his open
arms. He would protect her. She would cling to him, and
he would keep her safe. The music was slow, the other
Africans silent, watchful. She pressed closer. The
African grinned. He could sense her fear, and it
excited him. He could feel her youthful breasts pressed
against him. They would taste so sweet. His hands slid
down her back, gently cupping her soft, round bottom.
She would be able to feel his cock now, and he grinned
to himself.
Kirstie held on tight. She had gone too far. She knew
that now. No one would come and help in this shanty
town. Her skirt was short and light, and she could
sense their eyes on her lovely legs. Her “rescuer’s”
hand cupped her bottom.
Normally, she would not allow this. Not allow this
familiarity. Tonight she hung on and hoped she would be
allowed to go back to the hotel soon. His hands were
stroking her bottom. It was nice. She wriggled in his
arms. He had something in his pocket. It felt like two
cans of Coke. You would have thought he would take it
out before dancing with her!
Suddenly his hands were on her bare bottom! Not over
her skirt, but inside her panties! She struggled, but
he held her tight. His large black hands moulded the
soft, silky curves. As she struggled she wriggled
against him. He seemed to be rubbing the Coke bottles
against her!
“No, let me go.” Her voice was low, pleading. There was
no point being demanding. She knew that would get her
nowhere. His hands were electrifying on her! No man had
ever had his hands inside her panties, and others were
watching.
“Please, no.” She struggled free of his hands and
pulled away. She looked up at him.
“I would like to go back to the hotel now.” He grinned.
But this time there was no humour in his eyes. Instead
there was a strange look. He reached for her. Kirstie
backed away, but the now silent Africans pushed her
back towards him. She fell into his arms, and he
grasped her tight. His mouth crushed down on hers, and
he kissed her.
Fiercely. Passionately. He kissed. Kirstie nearly
swooned.
Then his hand was between her legs. Cupping her vulva,
moulding, teasing exploring. Kirstie struggled to pull
free, to push his hand away, to free herself.
He shook her. It was like shaking a rag doll! Kirstie
bounced in his arms, and then he pulled her close. He
had locked one of her hands behind her back! She
squirmed in his grasp.
“Please….”
She looked up at him. His eyes stared back at her.
Those eyes…. She felt loins pulse and throb between
her legs as she looked into his eyes!
“Please….” Her voice was a soft whimper. He grinned,
and Kirstie watched as his mouth lowered over hers. His
tongue flicked her lips gently, soothing, searching.
She felt weak at the knees. She briefly struggled then
sagged into his arms. His hand slid lower, slid between
her legs, then moved tantalizingly upwards. Her wet
pussy soaked through her panties and coated his black
fingers.
His mouth clamped on hers in another fiercely
passionate kiss. His hand slid inside her panties,
sliding them to one side, and delving within. He
explored her wetness. The heat, and arousal of her
loins, was so much more intense than she had ever
experienced before. Tentatively her tongue lapped
against his own, greeting and accepting his tongue.
His hands tightened her in the crotch of her panties,
twisting and turning them until his grip was firm. A
ripping noise filled the cabin. Kirstie was nearly
faint with shock. The black stud had literally ripped
her knickers off! She looked at his hand, raised before
her face. The panties were in shreds.
“You won’t need these in Kenya!”
Then he hurled them into the fire. She watched the
flames curl, and frizzle at the material. He pushed her
down to her knees in front of him.
She crouched there at his feet, while he struggled with
his trousers. Suddenly he pulled his cock free. She
nearly screamed. It was incredibly thick and long.
It had not been soda cans in his pocket at all, she
realized. He grasped her hair tightly and pulled her
forward. With his other hand he grasped his cock and
slapped her face with it. Her cheek flushed as wet
juice splashed against her face. He laughed and pulled
her head back before slapping her face again with his
cock. There was a cruelty in his eyes now, as his heavy
black cock slapped from pretty white cheek to pretty
white cheek.
Red marks flushed her pretty face. Then he thrust into
her mouth. Gripping her hair tightly, he thrust.
Kirstie spluttered as she took her first cock into her
mouth. Her “protector” laughed. A low evil laugh, as
Kirstie struggled and choked. To Kirstie’s shame and
confusion, her tongue was licking and lapping as though
it had a mind of its own.
Finally he pulled free. He looked down at Kirstie, his
eyes were cold and hard. She trembled at his feet as
she looked in awe at this powerful vigorous man. His
hand stroked lightly over his huge cock, then he pulled
it erect. Kirstie found herself eyeing two large
hanging testicles.
“Lick,” he commanded.
“Lick!” roared the other Africans. To her amazement,
Kirstie’s head bobbed forward, and she started licking.
Her body was betraying her, she reasoned. She had to
submit, she reasoned. She had no alternative, she
reasoned. Her breasts were throbbing with heat. Her
nipples were straining, and her thighs were wet with
her own running juices. She groaned as she licked at
the delicious tasty pungent black balls.
Then he pulled away again. He grinned down at her
approvingly. She smiled happily in response to that
grin. Then he turned around so he had his back to her.
Kirstie was confused. She looked at his thick full
heavy bottom. She was confused. What did he want?
“Lick,” the Africans shouted. Kirstie looked at them.
“Lick!” they roared. Kirstie looked back at her new
Master. Shocked, she saw he had parted his buttocks.
The dark ring of his anus peeked at her.
“Lick!” they almost screamed at her! Kirstie’s head
bobbed forward, and her dainty pink tongue licked. The
room erupted as Africans surged forward. She found
herself lifted off her feet and carried backwards to a
straw pallet. Black hands ripped her clothes from her
body. Hands that probed and eagerly and roughly
fondled. Squeezed and stroked. Bodies surged on and
around her as 10 African men sought to be the first to
mount her.
Suddenly Africans were flying all around picked up and
hurled aside. Kirstie gasped as her “rescuer” loomed
above. Her eyes fell to his cock. It was huge! It would
split her apart. She clutched at the other Africans
trying to keep them between her and the black God
preparing to take his pleasure from her.
Her hand slid across slippery black flesh, as the last
African was torn free of her grasp. She lay beneath
him, a vision of loveliness. Ah, so young.
Goosebumps raced up and down her gorgeous white body.
Her breasts heaved. He looked at her.
“Well,” Kirstie whimpered as her tightly clasped legs
loosened and parted. She stared fearfully into his
eyes, as her legs slowly drifted apart, opening for
him.
Finally she lay beneath him like a frightened pigeon.
Spread. He grinned as he lowered himself. Laughed as
Kirstie screamed as his cock impaled her virginity.
He chortled, as 10 black inches thrust all the way home
to Kirstie’s desperate wailing keen.
Her body shook and rolled in orgasm despite the pain of
her deflowering.
Later, much later, he pulled free from a sated,
exhausted Kirstie. As he pulled away, the rumpus began
again as the other Africans surged forward. Before
Kirstie could draw breath, another eager desperate
black cock was surging inside her wet, aroused centre.
Others clustered around. Cocks were thrust at her face.
Her hands were wrapped around other cocks. She could
see men playing with themselves as they waited their
turn. Another orgasm wracked her body, as the second
African shot his seed deep inside her belly.
He was quickly pulled away, and Kirstie found herself
flicked over, and held face down. Immediately a heavy
black cock thrust into her mouth and she suckled on it.
Sudden pain wracked her body, as an African cock
buggered her. Split her anal cherry with a fierce and
eager lunge. Kirstie screamed around the cock in her
mouth, which only excited the Africans more. Jets of
heavy male sperm shot into her mouth. Kirstie struggled
to free her mouth from the torrent pouring into her.
The cock in her bottom thrust hard pushing her deeper
onto the cock in her mouth. Suddenly she was sucking
and swallowing, as she realized it was quite tasty. Her
bottom bucked against the cock in her ass. She gulped
for air as the cock in her mouth pulled free. It was a
short gasp as another quickly replaced it.
Ooooh! She realized. All these men are turned and want
me. Every one of them is going to have me! She cooed,
sucked, bucked and writhed! In the corner of her eye
she saw the rest of her clothes being thrown onto the
fire. She mewled around the thick, heavy black cock in
her mouth. She wouldn’t need the clothes anyway.
Not this holiday.
Two months later, Kirstie was writhing between two
eager rutting Africans, on the mattress they had
specially brought for her. The two months had been sex,
drink, sex, sex, eat, sex, drink, and sex! She was sore
and exhausted. Deeper in the cabin, she had an
audience. It was not uncommon now. Performing on the
bed while other Africans watched and usually joined in.
Not just Africans. White people came to watch. Rich
tourists she suspected coming to see a white girl
fucked by African men. She didn’t care anymore. The
door opened and sunlight invaded the cabin. Kirstie
closed her eyes, and continued suckling and humping.
The Africans were haggling, bartering. It must be
another tourist, she thought. She humped and nibbled,
sucked and thrust. She loved putting on shows. It made
the Africans even hornier to fuck her in front other
Americans!
Beer cans opened and the newcomer settled into his
seat, watching the sweet young white girl writhe
between the rutting Africans. He had come to Africa to
try and find Kirstie, who had gone missing two months
ago. Her father was a friend of his, and Susan his own
daughter was one of her friends from school. Susan was
back at the hotel sleeping off some sunstroke.
He was 46, his first time abroad. He had heard there
were shows like these in Africa. The white girl was
obviously loving it, she was sandwiched between two
eager thrusting blacks, and sucking on a third! His
cock throbbed and he tried to appear nonchalant sipping
on his beer. The girl’s body shook in rapture as she
had another orgasm.
She was young enough to be Susan, he thought, and his
cock throbbed and jerked at the wicked thought!
The Africans were finished and leading the girl over to
him. He could see a leather collar around her neck. A
steel chain led to a central pillar. My God, he
realized she was just like slave. Except she was white,
and they the blacks were Masters.
The girl was led in front of him. He looked down
eagerly and was shocked to meet Kirstie’s glazed, lust-
laden eyes. His face was stricken.
“Please,” she whispered, “help me.” Her tongue licked
nervously across the wet lips of a succulent mouth. The
Africans had taught her to behave like this. It
encouraged the tourists think it was real. That it was
real was not lost on her. It excited her.
He reached down. God forgive me, as his fingers reached
for his zipper. God forgive me he whispered as he
pulled that succulent mouth forward. He had fantasized
about the lovely Kirstie sucking on his cock. Her
father would never find out….
Kizeki grinned. As he slid quietly into the hut, he
smiled as he watched the middle-aged American pleasure
himself with Kirstie’s mouth. He had to control his
laughter. His own pretty daughter Susan was not in
their hotel as he supposed. He had heard of this
American asking too many questions and checked him out.
Susan was safely ensconced in another of his shanty
cabins miles deep in the township. When this American
returned to the hotel to find his daughter gone, he
would not need much imagination to know exactly what
was happening to his own sweet daughter! By the time he
led the police back here they would be long gone.