The missionary's daughter

CHAPTER TWO

The interior of the little hut was not so little. The outside was quite deceiving, Julie realized, or perhaps it was just that there was so little furniture. In the very center was something that looked like a combination of a stone fireplace and a stone stove with a central stone chimney reaching all the way up to a hole in the center of the hut. A small area of mats against one wall seemed to be a storage area. Everything in the hut was piled there, including dishes and pots, rolled mats and a cross cut from the trunk of some huge tree, perhaps a very old baobab tree. The men found a pair of kerosene lamps and lit them. There were shelves tied to both horizontal and vertical poles that comprised the skeleton of the hut, and the lamps were placed on two of these. Wood already in the stone stove was set ablaze, and the large cross cut of wood was drawn near the stove to serve as a table. Next, several mats were strewn around on the dirt floor, and Julie was pushed down onto one of them against one wall. No one seemed to be afraid that she would run away now, and indeed she knew better. The only place a white girl could run in the African jungle was into trouble, her father had always warned her.

As Julie sat waiting for whatever was going to happen next, she noticed some of the articles on other shelves around the hut. They all seemed to be carvings, apparently in wood. They were beautiful, often delicate and lacy. Someone appeared to be an excellent craftsman, and she couldn't help wonder if it could be one of these very men. Yet not one of them seemed capable of the kind of sensitivity necessary to produce what she saw. Not knowing whether she risked anything or not, Julie finally got to her feet. The temptation to look at them more closely was too great. She glanced at the men. Enhar and Dawak seemed occupied with the preparation of food. Balloo was carrying another bowl of svench to the table. Kubby was probing around among the many articles stored on the mats against a far wall. No one was watching her, and so she made her way stealthily to the nearest carving.

She soon discovered that it was perfectly permissible to walk around and look at the wooden pieces. She found that the lace effect was meant to represent the leaves of trees or maybe it was just bare branches and fruit. The only figures were gigantic animal totems and bird masks with the single exception of one human figure that was dressed the same in three places. Since the natives she knew never wore anything but trousers or loin clothes and the figure wore a drape from the neck to the ground, she guessed that it might be a representation of the local deity although it was possibly King Daranje Kawat. She didn't know. Neither she nor her father nor anyone else except his own people had ever seen the native king. She decided against asking. These people had a strange and uncertain set of taboos. She was afraid of losing her head over the wrong question!

Suddenly she noticed Balloo smiling at her, and she dropped back down to the mat on the floor without even thinking of it, as though her legs collapsed through some understanding of their own. She leaned more heavily against the rush wall where he had left her and was surprised to feel how sturdy it was. Since the black man kept staring at her, she drew her arm around her tits. They hung loose and were partly exposed from a large tear in the upper part of her nightgown, caused by their struggles in the car. The cotton panties that were a part of her nightgown were gone, and she felt naked and vulnerable to his staring.

"You weel be good to the others, too, until tomorrow, hey you?" Balloo finally spoke to her.

She remained silent. She could not answer.

"I ask good question. You give good answer," he suddenly spat at her and walked to her side.

Still Julie did not move or make a sound. Her heart was lodged tightly in her throat in fear. Suddenly she heard before she felt, the loud sound of a hard slap echoing through the grass-walled room as the native man who had just so brutally raped her, swung his arm in a wide arc and brought the palm of his hand down hard across her face.

"I can hit badder," he warned ominously. "I give good question."

"W… what do you want from me?" she managed to stammer finally as the sting on her face brought a thin stream of tears to her eyes.

"You weel be good to the others, too," he said. He was no longer asking a question. He was demanding.

"Y… yes," she finally said quietly. She could see the cold cruel glint in his dark eyes and knew that any sign of resistance right now would only bring further pain and indignities from him. He was obviously the leader of this band and could not under any circumstances run the risk of being stood up against in front of them, at least not successfully. He would strike back just as he had warned… badder! The natives worshipped strength among other things. She sensed that if he lost his prestige in this matter with them, he would lose all. Who could tell what such repercussions would take place. She knew little about the native habits and rituals. Therefore, she was afraid. Perhaps his behavior was only the law of the wild, of the jungle, the male lion fighting for leadership of the pride as well as the women that went with it, or should she say lionesses. She didn't feel very much like a lioness.

Upon hearing her agreement, Balloo smiled arrogantly down at her and tweaked her cheek with his thumb and forefinger.

"She ees a woman to grind," Enhar suggested.

"Good," Balloo commented, and Julie was frightened. She didn't know what "grind" meant, but they had just been talking about her taking care of the men, and her imagination was limited by the desperate images Balloo had planted.

Balloo then grabbed her arm and pulled her up, shoving her toward the tall thin Dawak, who chortled, then pushed her in his turn toward the fat Enhar. They were all indulging in their usual chuckling and giggling. There was no longer any sense in the hopeless resistance she had put up at first. Her only chance for even staying alive, she suspected, was to keep close to Balloo. She was certain that his hard outward approach to her was an act to show the others that he could be cold and cruel, for he seemed to have developed a sense of protectiveness toward her that might keep the others away… for a little while anyway.

Enhar sat her down on another mat and handed her a very large wooden bowl of seeds and a stone for a pestle. She understood and relieved, started to grind the kernels. She hoped and prayed that she would be forced to grind them all night long! She showed her obedience by setting assiduously to work under the eyes of Balloo whom she knew she must take special pains to please. She dared not alienate him or he might be forced to show his control over her by letting the others take advantage of her as he had done. The missionary's young daughter vowed to herself that she would rather die and would do all in her power to avoid being used in that way again.

Julie bent to the grinding with as much energy as she could muster after the horrible beating her muscles had taken. She was surprised, though, that the soreness between her legs was not more acute, considering the ravishment she had undergone. Of course, she did a lot of horseback riding between the mission and town. Perhaps that had loosened her for the final assault that Enhar had submitted her to, followed by Balloo. She didn't know which was worse! This was the first time since leaving the car that she thought about those things. She had been in a complete state of shock since the natives had first grabbed her, and now, even though her consciousness was beginning to clear, she still could not recall all the bitter details of what had happened or why it had happened.

Why had they used her like this? Sheer lust couldn't be the answer unless they were absolute animals, and the thought was gradually sinking into her mind that perhaps they were. Her father claimed that they had human souls to save. She would have preferred to let those souls live their own lives and allow her and her family to return to normal civilization, but she had never questioned that they were human beings. She had never questioned it before! But if they were not driven by animal lust alone, what did they hope to accomplish with all their brutality? What intelligent plan could account for this?

"Give the Missa Julie food," she heard Balloo ordering someone, and then the lanky Dawak brought her a wood slat with one of the native pan breads on it. It was probably the same kind of food for which she was in the process of grinding flour right now. She had seen it made before. It was only flour with animal fat and water and cooked in small loaves right on top of the hot stones of the stove. The natives had plenty of goats, but there didn't seem to be any milk products here now. She would have liked some cheese or butter. The bread would be like sawdust without it, and she wasn't hungry. But she ate, ate and smiled. She ate to please!

Kubby was the one with the best view. He sat facing her, and without looking up, she knew very well his eyes were glued tightly to her almost entirely visible body beneath the tattered nightgown she was wearing. It had been ripped and torn in so many places that there was very little material left to cover her completely naked body hiding beneath. While she ate, she concentrated on keeping her arm pinned down to the side of her left tit so the material wouldn't fall open in front of Kubby. She knew this would be fatal. They were already all worked up so badly by watching Balloo rape her in the back seat of the car, that it wouldn't take much to set them off again. As soon as she finished her little loaf of the bread, she concentrated on studying the four primitives who were holding her prisoner.

Kubby was not very tall, maybe five-five, she guessed. But what he lacked in height, he certainly made up for in build. He was broad and stocky, and as she studied him, she remembered the way he had walked from the car to the hut. It had reminded her dimly of an ape with his bare torso and his long swinging arms that were out of proportion to the rest of his body. It almost appeared as though he could touch the ground without bending over much farther than his natural stance. His face was thick and his broad nose flat, more the central African type as she understood it, rather than Senegalese.

Dawak, her guardian in the car, was tall and thin, not as muscular as the others, which explained why holding her down was such a strain for him. He seemed to know that he did not measure up in some way. His eyes stayed blatantly on her when she looked at him almost as if to say that his lack of strength didn't matter; he was every bit as tough as the others. There was an innate cold cruelty in his dark eyes that she could not otherwise explain except by his possible sense of inferiority. Anyway, she had no desire to challenge him and was grateful that he was held in check out of fear of Balloo's authority. She wondered what would happen to her if Balloo were not here!

. Balloo, on the other hand, was strong and well-built, and he carried himself with an arrogant confidence befitting his position as leader of the little band. He had long sensuous hands that she could still remember coursing over her body as he had ravished her in the car. His nails were long and sharp, and she still winced slightly each time she moved from the marks he had made on her body while he was stroking her. He, too, had a certain cold aloofness about him that repulsed and frightened her. It was almost as though he possessed nothing whatsoever in the way of human compassion. There was no doubt of the tremendous strength he possessed. She could still feel the welts from his fingers on her hips and upper thighs where he had grasped her when he was pulling himself into her.

Enhar, now, was repulsive to her, and she suspected that he was not very bright. His build was much like Kubby's, except that he was older and less in proportion. His head was far too small for his body, and he kept it shaved, showing off a myriad of bumps. His limping walk, as though his feet were disorganized, added to the off-balance physical appearance he made. His eyes were small and sunk deep in his head, not the usual Senegalese either, but more so than Kubby. She was afraid of Enhar, not so much because of what he had done to her in the car, but because he looked the least human of the group. He looked as though he had no reasoning power at all. Tonight was not the first time she had noticed this, either. As little as she paid attention to her father's so-called "flock", she had definitely noticed Enhar from time to time and shuddered. She had thought before that there would be no reasoning or mercy if she ever came under his power, that it was unpredictable what he might do if his natural instincts were unleashed from the accepted human restrictions. Of course, she had never dreamed in the remotest way, that such a time would come to pass. God help her now!

She could detect each of them turning to stare at her out of the corners of their eyes with hungry animalistic gazes that could mean only one thing. Still, they continued eating. She kept her eyes on Balloo as she cowered back against the wall, grinding in the big bowl again after hurriedly finishing the bit of bread given her. She felt that it was stuck all the way down her throat and around in the lining of her stomach. The firelight now burned brightly in the stone stove, elongating weird silhouettes of the men across the dirt floor and against the grass walls.

Out of grim necessity, she had accepted Balloo as protector. She felt like a wild dog in a pack or a doe, following the strongest buck. To think that a few short hours ago, she had been a sheltered and innocent little religious girl who believed in all the things she had learned about the value of her protected virginity. Suddenly she saw her femininity as a means of survival. Once she had thought that she could choose a nice young religious boy and settle down with him in a nice chaste religious marriage and the entire world would keep hands off. But that was a fairy tale like Santa Claus! Why did adults like her father go on teaching such fairy tales that made their children so vulnerable in a world where strength and cunning meant survival whatever we wish to think! A few short hours ago she still had dreams of an ideal fairy tale mate whom she must seek! Very abruptly she realized that her mate must be the strongest in the pack, the strongest she could attract in whatever circumstances. Right now she must choose Balloo and make him feel the full the full effect his protective strength had so that he would be inspired to use it… for her sake! He wanted her now and she had no choice but to choose him if she were to escape the others. Maybe by choice, she meant cooperation.

It was apparent also that Balloo could feel the power he now possessed over the young, naive white girl as he ate with a quiet confidence, never once raising his eyes to look at her like the others. He knew she was there and knew she was his by virtue of his leadership of the gang. His hold on her was his strength and the protection he offered her. On the other hand, he had to be trustworthy as a leader as well. Enhar had been easily eliminated for his foolish mistake, but he still owed Dawak and Kubby the fruits of his promise. As he ate silently, he tried to think of some way to keep his promises while at the same time breaking them! He didn't want to hand her over. She was his!

"Give some svetch to her," he ordered suddenly, pointing to the bowl they all drank from in common. "But a small bowl!"

Kubby jumped up to fetch a small bowl from the storage area and then poured her a generous amount from the larger bowl on the table. She had to stop grinding to take it.

"Drink and don't stop," Balloo commanded her, reveling in demonstrating his power over her to the others. They were all chuckling, of course.

Julie raised the little bowl and took a small sip, feeling the hot pulpy tasting liquid burning all the way down to her stomach. It certainly burned the bread away! It also made her feel slightly sick until she saw Balloo's eyes glued to her out of the corner of her own eye, and she tilted the bowl again to take a greater swallow. She almost coughed it up but with a supreme effort, managed to hold it down. A faint lightheadedness swirled through her as she raised tilted the bowl again and turned it bottom-up as quickly as she could finish the warm fluid to the last drop.

"Sheen do it!" Enhar said with a gleeful ring to his voice. "I tell her do," Balloo said proudly. "She is Balloo's woman no one can have unless I geev!"

"Hey you!" Kubby protested shrilly immediately. "You already geev!"

"Aaaawwwww," Balloo hedged. "She leetle. I gotta teach!" He rose from his mat and grabbed Julie by the arm, pushing her roughly back toward the stove. Though it appeared to the others that he was hurting her, she could feel a certain restraint in his movement that almost bordered on gentleness. She understood that he had to be firm in front of the others to maintain his status, and she let herself be carried limply along with him across the room.

"Now I teach," he announced and reached to the back of Julie's tattered nightgown and ripped it down the back in one mighty jerk. The flimsy material split without effort and floated uselessly to the ground. Unconsciously she gasped when she realized what he had done and tried desperately to recover the last remnants of clothing she had left with which to cover her nakedly exposed body.

"Leave it," she heard Balloo's voice command from above her. "Thees is first white ass for us. They never see." He indicated the others with a gesture of his hand. He didn't seem to expect her to be concerned about her nudity, and her father had said that the native women wore nothing on top just like the men, and that they would have to change that if he could induce the women to come to him at all. The men came, apparently not learning much thought Julie wryly, but the women did not.

So Julie Davenport hesitated miserably, still crouched on the hard dirt floor where she kneeled in the vain attempt to cover herself. Her arms were folded tightly over her large firm titties, that swayed down voluptuously from her bending torso, naked and unprotected. Her legs were clamped tightly together in an attempt to hide the brown silken triangle between her thighs. She began to tremble from the sudden obscene exposure of her body to the others in the room.

"Get up, Missa Julie," Balloo commanded tersely. "They cannot see white ass like that!"

Julie froze when she looked at the table area and saw the others begin to rise from their mats and walk with bulging eyes toward her, crouching naked and vulnerable before the stove. She looked up at Balloo with a pleading cowed look in her green eyes, but his gaze remained cold and totally without sympathy. This was his moment to shine in the eyes of his underlings and he was playing it for all it was worth, the power he held over her. He was cruelly sure of himself, and Julie felt her body rising involuntarily to a standing position before his hard unyielding stare, unable to resist his command.

The other men crowded around her, gaping with unadulterated admiration and desire at the full proud young white body being exhibited before them.

"Good titties," Kubby chortled breathlessly. "Good in the mouth!" He pulled his lips back from a toothy grin that frightened her. She could almost feel his bite on her nipples.

Enhar stood immobile, a crazy lustful grin on his face. It was all he could do to keep from reaching forward again and fondling the softness of her with his harsh callused hands as he had done before in the car, but one look at Balloo cut him short. He had felt his wrath earlier and that was enough to keep him restrained for awhile.

"Thees is good for all," the bony Dawak gasped as his eyes followed the full, ripe contours of her curved hips to the soft silken down at the juncture of her hips and thighs.

But Balloo stood proud and defiant beside, reveling in the control he held over her and the others. It was the supreme moment of leadership for him, being able to play on and control their passions this way. He was confident and sure of his power, and as he stood there, almost smirking at them, a thoughtful contemptuous smile slowly crossed his lips. But it was short lived.

"Hey you," Kubby suddenly said, careful not to smile the wrong kind of smile to infuriate the touchy leader. "You geev now. She is good taught."

Julie understood that Kubby was praising Balloo so that the leader could back down from breaking his word and save face doing so. She didn't know whether this sort of thing would work among men as primitive as this. Did their word mean anything? If Balloo had promised to give her to the others, did he have to do so? But Kubby was certainly trying to pry her away from Balloo in the very same way a white man might try to do it. Perhaps pride was as important among these savages as it was everywhere else in the world. Pride is evil, her father taught. Julie was beginning to think that it all depended how you looked at it. If Kubby's strategy were not successful, then Balloo's pride in his possession of her was her friend! But if Kubby was successful in reviving Balloo's pride in keeping his word as a leader, then his pride became Julie's enemy. If Balloo were a humble leader, then she would have no chance at all! In spite of the circumstances, Julie could not repress a smile as she thought of how proud her father was of his humility!

Balloo cast a forlorn glance over her body. He did not look her in the eye now, and it was clear to Julie that a leader's word was indeed very important among these people. She had to use all her will power to keep her legs from giving out from under her as she saw that Balloo was going to have to let them take her. She trembled, knowing she had no choice, and that if she didn't do as they commanded her, they would only force her. That would be a thousand times worse. No, it wouldn't help anything for her to show resistance. She had to retain an appearance of obedience to Balloo as an investment in the future. Besides, the men would very probably enjoy any resistance as adding spice to the game of conquering her. They were not stronger than Balloo, but they were stronger than she was, and they would love the opportunity to show their strength. No, fighting would just make matters worse, and she couldn't bear for this to go on for too long, whatever was going to happen. Yet she would have to bear up under it until the chance for escape came. There was nothing else in the world to help her now but her own will power, brains, and courage. She was alone. She didn't suppose her father would approve of her submission, but isn't that what a humble person would do? Humble or wise!

"Pretty, pretty pussy," Kubby was leering. "Let me feel the leetle pussy!" Julie automatically jumped back as his thick stubby hand reached out and began stroking the soft resilient pubic hair growing at the base of her white softly rounded belly.

"Be steel, son-of-a-bitch!" he commanded coldly. Balloo had completely withdrawn and left Kubby in charge, apparently. The cruel unyielding tone of the fattest savage's voice immobilized her, and she stood cringing next to where he was slumped down over his knees as he crouched. Her face crimsoned at the indignity of having to stand there unable to move as his harsh calloused fingers coursed around the secret protective parts of her exposed genitals. She could hear through tightly clenched senses, including her eyes, the snickers of the others in the hut as they watched her black tormentor taking indecent liberties with her white young body. She moaned softly in shame and humiliation as she suddenly felt the tip of a finger part the sparse brown pubic hair and push itself into the soft fleshy folds surrounding her cunt. It was still moist from the ravishment she had undergone in the car some hours ago, and she heard a slight gasp come from his lips as he felt her openness.

"Aaaahhhhh, I theenk it slide in like slurp easy," he mummured as he worked his finger up and down the length of the narrow hairlined slit. "My prick is slurp in there all night long." Slurp was their word for mud-sliding into the river, a game they played.

Julie understood what he meant and felt the blood rising in her head until she thought her brain would burst from the pressure. Her face was beet red from the indignities being heaped upon her. Their demeanors were slowly changing from one of chortling amusement to slow smouldering desire.

Balloo sat on his mat, leaning on the wood table, his eyes gazing darkly around the hut as he watched the jubilant Kubby slowly working himself into a sexual frenzy that he knew was going to erupt into a volcano of rape within a matter of minutes. He wanted, for some reason he didn't understand, to rise at that moment and smash his fist into Kubby's face until there was nothing left but a bloody mass of unrecognizable flesh for what he was doing to this white girl. Whether it was because he had possessed something that he must give away, he didn't know. One did not hesitate to give one's wife to a friend for a favor. But the white girl was not a wife, she was spoils and by rights belonged to the leader. Yet he had offered her so what could he do?

"Enhar have hees turn in car like me," Balloo told Kubby in a warning tone. That was one less of them he had to share the girl with! "Don't get no marks on her," he suddenly commanded, rising from his mat. "King Daranje Kawat will be harsh if the missionary will not take her back because of marks."

Julie Davenport was astonished at his words. Did he really believe that her father would refuse to take her back if she had marks on her? What a strange way to think! But then, she reminded herself, a woman was like the wood carvings she had been admiring. To these primitives, if a woman was marred or broken in any way, what good was she? They probably assumed that her father would feel the same way. There was one thing about what Balloo said, though, that made her too happy to care what they thought of women. They were planning to offer her to her father, but in exchange for what?

Kubby, meanwhile, was suddenly jerked from his eager probing between the trembling Julie's legs by the harsh gruffness of Balloo's voice, and withdrew his hand by instinct. He was disciplined to follow a leader's commands without question, and this was no exception even though he and Dawak had been given the girl for the evening. He knew he could get away with almost anything as long as he stuck to what he could argue was his, but if he didn't, there would be danger he was not prepared to accept. He played it cool.

"I am to sleep now," Balloo announced as he kept his old stare on Kubby, then made his way with his mat to a spot against the wall. "But I weel wake if something wrong happens," he growled as he threw down the mat and curled up on it, his face toward the wall. Kubby was silent as he watched his leader disposing himself for the night, then let his eyes flicker to the downcast Julie still standing by his mat. He rose in a slow manner that revealed the strength of his legs in spite of the fat on his body and with a sudden move that caught her completely by surprise, grabbed her wrist and twisted her arm painfully behind her back so that she was forced to turn and fall back against him. Dawak and Enhar jumped up from where they were sitting and crowded around her so they could see the exposed view of her white curvaceous front. Enhar's eyes glowed like a panther's in the dark as he feasted them hungrily on the firm round titties pointing out at him, gleaming in the firelight.

"Y… you, hey you, I can fuck her, too, Kubby?" Enhar whispered excitedly from the impact the sight of Julie's body was having on him.

"You help me," was all Kubby would say, but he glanced at the form of Balloo against the wail and leered meaningfully at Enhar. He began to twist harder on Julie's arm, perhaps out of nervousness. To allow Enhar a chance with the girl would place Kubby in a position of authority, which was hard to resist, but it would be rebelling against Balloo, and that was not too safe.

Julie grunted from the increased pain, but she still refused to cry out. She didn't want to make things harder for herself, but her face was locked in a determined expression of defiance that seemed to increase with each moment the final assault of her helpless body drew near.

The earlier weakness and lethargy she had let herself sink into had faded, and she now found herself resisting them automatically with all her moral being. Maybe it was better to resist. Even the cruel inhuman pain she was being subjected to could not overcome the intense revulsion and hate she felt for the three dark and animal-like faces surrounding her. She had to resist now even though she knew her fate was inevitable. Her final punishment and humiliation would be in their hands.

"Hey you, for you asking big trouble," Kubby finally growled in frustration and anger at the unexpected courage of the helpless white girl. "Gimme help," he demanded of the others.

He jerked forward and pushed her toward the mat placed for her originally against the wall on the other side of the hut from Balloo. Her arm was almost twisted to the breaking point, and it was almost with relief that she felt herself being pushed face down onto the mat, causing him to release her wrist from the cruel hold he had on it. But it was only momentary relief. As she struggled to hide her nakedness with her hands and arms, other hands reached out from the side and pressed her tightly down into the layers of bound rushes that formed the mat.

"Hold shee down!" Julie heard a voice command through the haze as, without warning, a hard fist smashed into the side of her head. She groaned and her arms and legs went limp, her body splayed wide and helpless in a spread-eagle position across the bed. She trembled loose and quivering for a moment, and then she tightened the muscles of her body again as she heard Kubby's next foreboding words.

"Beg me to have the cock or more fist in the head!" She felt Kubby's hands coursing over her back, and she quivered. She did not resist this time for fear of further pain. She didn't want to be knocked out. That way she could not call for Balloo if they overstepped their permitted bounds. She knew that now her resistance could only be mental and would be a victory only within herself.

"Turn here and see my black cock," Kubby commanded above her.

She didn't move or answer until she suddenly felt his hand tangling in her hair. He jerked her head up and around a few inches off the mat. Her eyes opened automatically, and her face contorted in horror at the long thick black instrument, stone-rigid, that he held over her head. It was monstrous and webbed all along the underside with heavy throbbing veins, giving grim advance warning of the lustful state he had worked himself into during her kidnapping. Her eyes trailed a slow path up the length of his torso to his face, a piteous and useless plea nestled in them, pleading for mercy. There was none. Nothing but a cold and unyielding face staring down at her.

"You like?" he tormented.

She tried to answer, but her voice was frozen somewhere deep in her chest.

"Hey you, you like?" he hissed again and twisted her hair viciously in his hand.

"Y… yes, I like it," she finally managed to stammer through the pain and degradation.

"You see," he explained. "I put it in here and you weel have it come out here!" He laughed and so did the others. He had pointed that he was going to put it in her cunt and it was going to come out her mouth!

Loosened up, the other two men laughed nervously from excitement now, thinking of what was about to happen. It had been different back there in the car when Balloo had been laying it to her. They couldn't see it all too well in the semi-darkness of the car, lit only by the small flashlight. But now she was stretched out before them completely nakedly exposed in all her white youth and innocence, and they were going to watch her get fucked like they had never seen anyone get fucked before. Both their eyes glowed like hot coals in the shadows from the anticipation that had been building like a storm since they had first abducted her from her bedroom hours back.

"Hold her down until I een there," Kubby ordered nervously. His voice quivered from the salacious thought of what he was about to do to this virginal young white girl, and his long lust-thickened cock ached like it had never ached in all his life. He dropped to the mat and rolled across the full length of her back, his face pressed into the clean soft odor of her light brown hair that glimmered with little orange sparks in the firelight from the stove.

Julie winced from the attack and began to struggle weakly, but unseen hands forced her back deeper into the mat. Her arms were pulled to the sides of the mat and held in a vice-like grip that could not be broken. Kubby's knees behind her were slowly and relentlessly forcing her knees apart with a rough pressure that scraped the tender backsides of her thighs and calves.

With all her power she strained to keep them closed, but it was hopeless. She gave a sudden "Oooomph," as the breath surged from her lungs, and her resistance broke. He dropped between her legs as they spread wide across the mat, her toes hanging out onto the dirt floor on either side. A soft helpless moan escaped from her tightly closed lips as she felt the hardness of his prick make warm wet contact with the soft inner flesh of her thighs. He moved forward, insinuating the full length of it along the narrow widely stretched crack of her asscheeks. Her shoulders were held down tight against the bed so that her struggles were limited to her lower torso. Her asscheeks squirmed and twisted beneath him, inciting his lust to the utmost.

"Hey you, kneel here," his voice breathed into her hair.

She tried to stiffen her body more and pressed tighter into the mat. Bitter tears of anger and fear ran from her cheeks, wetting the grass under her face as she felt his smooth hot skin pressing down onto her, covering the full length of her prostrate body. She tried not to move now after the command, knowing whatever she did would only worsen her position.

A hand pushed down on the back of her head, pressing her face tight into the rushes. She struggled for a moment to breathe but could not. She tried to cry out, but her mouth would not open. A faint dizziness swept over her from the lack of oxygen, and she let her body go limp. The hand was released and she gulped desperately at the air greedily filling her tortured lungs with welcome relief. Hands on her now relaxed hips pulled them powerfully up off the bed, another hand staying hard behind her neck to keep her tits and face pressed harshly down into the mat. By the time she fully recovered her breath, her asscheeks were waving high off the bed behind, and she made a momentary and fruitless lurch forward to flatten them again. The hand pushed her face tight back into the mat, cutting off her breath as before.

She relaxed and ceased her struggles. She knew she would eventually give in the end, anyway. There was nothing left now but horrible humiliating submission to their every obscene desire. Her body was a helpless toy to be used as they wanted in their animalistic quest for satisfaction, satisfaction that would only cease when they had exploded their hot liquid desire deep inside her soft and resilient body that was now beyond all resistance and care. She listened, suddenly hearing a noise that she prayed would be some kind of rescue. Perhaps Balloo had changed his mind! She listened carefully, but it was only Balloo… snoring!