Chapter 2

In the previous chapter, we left poor Sally in a dreadful situation with her suddenly vulnerable cherry ripe for the plucking and with her anticipation of humiliation flooding her brain with visions of impossible degradation.

Before her trip to Sudan on behalf of famine relief, she had very little contact with dark-skinned males. She had several black female friends, but they were so steeped in social graces that they might have well been WASPs with a deep, deep tan. A couple of the black football players expressed an interest in getting to know her better because of her reputation for taking it up the ass on any pretext or silly excuse that managed to keep her from looking like a complete slut.

Now, it was beginning to look like she was about to get a rude awakening in the form of multiple partners using her in any way they considered her training required for the purpose of instilling proper prisoner behavior. She had already witnessed their standard treatment of her bunkmate right in front of her horrified eyes and she was certain her fate was already written on the violent winds of terror and chaotic environment.

She was suspended from the rafter in a manner identical to her already processed friend and she remembered the girl’s warning.

“Don’t fight them at all. Just try to ignore the worst of it and think that it will all be over before too long. The more you cooperate, the less you will suffer.”

She could see the value of that advice because the tall, black girl was only beaten lightly and was immediately released to the barracks as soon as they finished with her. It was her turn now and she was not quite certain how she would react to the certain humiliation waiting for her. In fact, she was convinced she would be treated more harshly because the rebels had no love for white foreigners, either male or female. At least, as a female, she would not be disposed of out of hand and be allowed to live a bit longer to keep them entertained while they waited for reinforcements from other central African countries with pipelines of trained militants.

She was surprised that the agitated men around her were careful to remove all her clothing without damaging the buttons or tearing the fabric. She had expected something more brutal and less careful than the way they were handling her. The simple truth was that they were under strict orders to “don’t damage the merchandise” because she would fetch a large bonus at the slave auction the following weekend in a pristine state of appearance.

They even lubricated her two entryways with lots of animal fat with their rude invasive hands and laughed as she shivered at their touch in the cooler temperatures of the late afternoon daylight. The breeze was blowing with a vengeance making a sound in the cave like a howling hyena searching for a mate in strange territory.

One of the older men slapped her face and told her,

“Don’t shut your pretty eyes, missy. The boss-man doesn’t want you to miss any of the fun.”

She did her best to pretend it was all a scene of her own design and that she was not a victim but actually the organizer of the entire tableau with the express purpose of giving her just what she wanted after months of sex-deprived existence.

The young man in front of her face bounced his business on her lips and she opened her mouth knowing it was time for her to show some degree of cooperation in the process. She even kept her eyes open in compliance with the instructions and saw the thick shaft moving eagerly in front of her shocked face with typical male lack of patience.

When she looked up, she saw the boy was smiling at her and that confused her because she wanted to hate him for his greedy taking of her dignity. It was difficult to do so, because he was a rather good-looking specimen and she had to admit his equipment was first rate in terms of her personal limited experience.

A bare foot in the small of her back pushed her down on the rampant cock sticking straight up into the air underneath her and she was forced to straddle the unseen man’s hips taking the extended shaft right up into her vaginal slit and right through her hymen like a knife through butter. She was instantly relieved of her virginity and her eyes widened with the knowledge that all she experienced was a joyful stretching of her secret feminine folds and a sense of fullness that she had never felt before. It was so swift and without drama that she was a bit disappointed expecting something more exhilarating or even stimulating.

Finally, the stocky muscular man that was standing silently behind her spread her buttocks with a laugh that promised the drama she felt was lacking in the first two entries would soon shake her soul with the ultimate “tingle” of her lifetime. The fellow was mostly in the shadows but she could discern the fact he was deliciously hung with an impressive cock of some considerable girth and length. The sight of the thing made her shudder like a schoolgirl at the thought of taking it in her rear door like some slut with no morals or strength of character.

Unfortunately, the thing was buried well past her surrendered sphincter before she had a chance to react. The boisterous males laughed with nasty appreciation at the easy entry proving to them that she was well-practiced in submitting to the nasty business of unexpected rear entry.