Africa Slave Queen - Cover

Africa Slave Queen

Copyright© 2004 by Finc

Chapter 1

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Rachel Goodbody is sexy, feisty and her channels number one reporter. But an insulted African dictator has other plans. Turning her into his most amazing sex slave ever.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Mult   NonConsensual   Rape   Coercion   Blackmail   Mind Control   Slavery   BDSM   MaleDom   FemaleDom   Spanking   Rough   Humiliation   Sadistic   Gang Bang   Harem   Interracial   Black Female   Black Male   White Female   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Fisting   Sex Toys   Food   Lactation   Enema   Exhibitionism   Voyeurism   Size   Doctor/Nurse   Foot Fetish   Body Modification   Caution  

Illustration of blong tied and getting fucked by a black man

The theatrically over decorated general gripped the podium tighter and tighter. The news conference was turning sour. It had supposed to have been his moment on the world stage to impress to tell everyone what a great and generous leader he was; but now this. All the cameras continued to focus on his glistening black forehead.

"I'll repeat my question," came the annoying voice of the young reporter. He narrowed his gaze at the attractive white woman and gave a forced smile.

"Please do."

Rachel enunciated the words clearly and concisely for the media filled hall.

"You say there is no evidence of your army using chemical weapons against northern separatists groups, however why did you house and pay for the 3 top ex soviet research scientist who specialise in chemical warfare to stay in your country last year? And can you explain the site of mass killings I visited yesterday north of the Butta river?"

Once again he paused before replying then gave a bitter yet revealing answer.

"Miss Goodbody, you have taken my hospitality and use it against me. As a guest of my daughter you have unfairly used the relationship presented to you."

The audience of news hacks cursed under their breath at her luck at the same time noticing that this was hardly a denial from the bloated General, long serving president of his country. The media scrum erupted in questions, none the general would answer and as he stormed from the podium he glared back at Rachel as she fended off questions of her own.

Outside the government building Rachel and her news team congratulated themselves on their scoop.

"I got the lot," laughed Jack her camera man, the sound man nodding in agreement.

"Good," smiled Rachel wiping her brow in the intense African heat. "The guys back home are pretty pleased; we can syndicate this story all around the world. The UN has demanded that we all see the alleged site tomorrow. We've got centre stage!"

As they talk a long black limo screeched to a halt along side them. Dust billowing up on the shabby streets. It flew the presidential crest.

"How could you?" Yelled an educated African voice of a young woman.

Stepping from the limo in a flowing gold dress was Koko the general's daughter.

Rachel gave a gulp of embarrassment her face going red. She'd been in this third world country to see her old college friend and do an exclusive on her father. General Mobana the long time ruler of this small east African state was vain and arrogant. He had welcomed the chance to parade in front of a camera. Over the last few week Rachel had being given exclusive access to the general's inner circle. Koko had never realised she had a bigger plan; to unmask his war crimes in the civil war that had been raging for nearly a decade.

"Koko I'm sorry but your father he has to be stopped."

Slap!

Rachel went flying Koko's own bodyguards pulling her back to stop more of a beating

"Get out of my country bitch," she hissed getting back in the car, "before I have you thrown out."

The car sped off her team seeming a little uneasy.

"I'm sorry Koko," Rachel shouted in remorse as the car sped away. Then looking to her worried team she smiled. "Relax guys, now its out in the open we're perfectly safe. Ok, let's get ready for the flight tomorrow, remember I want to get back to those killing fields we exposed before CNN do."

The next morning the team sat in the rickety Cessna plane double checking their equipment. Jack looked out of the grime window at the 45 degree heat haze. Across the runway a figure was approaching. In her mid twenties Rachel Goodbody was making a name for herself as her channels feistiest reporter. It helped that she was blessed not only with the tenacity of an alligator but she had the looks any TV station would drool over. She walked briskly in her heeled sandals long legs hidden just above the knee with a khaki skirt. Her slim waist and schoolgirl like frame were covered in a white baggy linen shirt, but as Jack remembered at ambassador receptions across the world her waif figure bewitched many a dignitary.

As she reached the plane Rachel adjusted her tied back long blonde mane feeling the sweat already trickling down between her cleavages. Her full lips were dry in the oppressive heat her blue eyes hidden behind designer shades.

"Everyone here? Great, then let's go boys."

The view from the plane was spectacular. Deep lush green forest for as far as the eye could see. They were heading north following the Butta River towards the prearranged media site. Today the worlds press would see for them elves what the general was capable of; mass graves of villagers poisoned with mustard gas.

The local pilot began ranting in excitement then explained in broken English. He had radio traffic hailing him. He pointed to the west and the news crew peered out at an approaching black speck. The aircraft approached rapidly and passed directly in front of the tiny plane.

Rachel could see it was one of the countries squadron of Mig 21 fighters. The Mig was an ancient soviet plane however still fast and deadly.

The air force jet made another slower pass.

"It's requesting we follow it!" The pilot said in a concerned voice

"Damn general!" Jack hissed, "he doesn't want us to be there toady." He looked at the pilot, "ignore him." The pilot's eyes widened in fear.

"Jack you can't escape a jet." Rachel said frustrated with how the day was going. "It's just the generals little game, we've already done the damage why is this going to make any difference? Let's not provoke it."

The Cessna turned east for 30 minutes under the supervision of the air force before a landing strip became visible cut into the dense jungle.

"We must land here," the pilot shouted as he began to descend.

The crew gripped anything they could as the tiny plane bounced along the makeshift dirt runway. Overhead the Mig continued to circle, watching.

There was a flurry of panic in the plane as a group of armed soldiers appeared from shanty huts running towards the parked aircraft.

"Shit!" Jack cried.

"Keep calm!" Rachel said gripping both men's arms. "They're just trying to spook us."

The door opened and a smiling officer peered in.

"Ah Miss Goodbody please forgive me but my general requests he meet you at his personal residence."

"Rachel scoffed back."We have nothing to discuss with the general, now can we please get under way."

The officer continued to smile as a rifle was pointed over his shoulder at the shapely reporter.

"Miss Goodbody I'm afraid he insists."

Rachel climbed from the plane demanding answers, her team following her. The officer held them back inside the plane

"No need, you must return to your media event. The general only invites Miss Goodbody. Please we have only delayed you a short time you can be back at the site within another hour."

The young reporter turned and looked at her two team members. "I guess I'll be along in a bit." She said a little nervous. Jack was about to explain his concerned when she just held up a hand and nodded.

"Yeah I know I'm on my own but at least you'll be able to let our channel know where I am."

Jack nodded. "Damn right."

Rachel took her bag and strode across the runway towards a waiting limo. She turned to see the Cessna lift into the sky bank and begin to head north again. As the plane became a dark spec she felt the situation quickly change

The officer gripped Rachel's arm firmly. "This way miss in the truck." Rachel looked at him then at the army truck and limo ahead of her.

"It's about 90 in the shade and you want me to ride in a truck! Forget it! And by the way don't man-handle me again."

The officer began to pull her towards the vehicle. Rachel gave a yelp then dug her heels in making the duct billow up. But she slid towards the vehicle. He shouted orders to his platoon of men and they began to climb in. She reached the rear of the covered truck hair all over the place sweat already covering her face and saw a cage in the foot well about 4 foot square.

"Get in there Miss!" He demanded, burly soldiers grabbing her arms pulling her up as she kicked her legs.

Rachel gave a shriek as her blouse tore the men pushing her into the cage before bolting it closed.

"How dare you, this is outrageous!" She shrieked trying to kick at the steel bars.

The officer closed up the trailer gate obviously taking the air conditioned limo for his ride and then the truck began to head off. Rachel rolled onto her side in a foetal position feeling claustrophobic surrounded by twenty seated jet black skinned soldiers. She called out to them but they all just smiled and grinned chatting amongst themselves in their own tribe language. She recognised them to be from the generals own tribe, his loyalist troops and as she had remembered calling them in front of camera his most despicable.

The journey seemed to last for ever she was dehydrating the sweat covering her skin her clothes sodden with it. One of the soldiers eventually noticed bending down to feed her a water bottle through the bars.

"Drink," he said gruffly.

She coughed and spluttered then looked up at him. Rachel had wide expressive eyes the light blue of them and small pupils giving her a sensuous piercing stare.

"You have to let me out," She said more of a plea than a demand now.

"Miss," he said in a stern heavily accented voice. "You don't tell people what to do anymore. Understand!"

She was about to reply when the truck came to a halt. The canopy opened and the humid air flooded in to mix with the sauna like conditions inside the truck. Fours trooper slid long poles inside the bars allowing them to lift the cage out. Rachel gripped the bars blinking in the brilliant sunlight her sunglasses crushed somewhere back at the runway. She was in a concreted compound with guard towers the dense jungle closing in around the general's hidden fort. No doubt from here he conducted his war against the rebels without prying eyes of foreigners.

She gave a moan of horror as she saw captive rebels hung from nooses or impaled on large spikes.

"Jesus it's a hell hole," She screamed feeling her stomach turning.

She was grateful by the time the cage had been carried across the courtyard into a cell block. The cage was placed on the floor then been unbolted. Rachel crawled out unsure what to do. Fight, run, both were ridiculous. She gingerly stood straightening her dress adjusting her ripped blouse covering her sweaty heaving chest.

The officer was stood in front of her.

"Listen you piece of shit," Rachel's anger now uncontrollable. "I'm an American citizen in this country with my news team. How the hell do you think you can just abduct me? When I see the general he's going to know who he's dealing with."

The officer adjusted his black beret then gave a wide African grin.

"In the cell please Miss the general will be along at his convenience."

The cell door slammed shut behind her and she found herself in a large concrete room. There was a wire bed and a hole in the floor for toilet but nothing else. High above was the ceiling with dirty roof lights. The whole place was dim and incredibly hot and humid.

Rachel undid her blouse slightly her bra poking from the open fabric. Her whole body was dripping in sweat the insides of her thighs hot and sticky her knickers tight in her ass crack. She tightened her pony tail keeping the hair from her beautiful face then bent down to feel her sculpted calves massaging the bronzed skin to get the blood flowing again. She felt ridiculous in her heeled sandals stood in a concrete cell but the floor was too coarse for the soles of her soft western feet so she left them on.

In her head she thought through what would happen. She'd have to be released within a day there no way she could be accused of any crime. Sure it happened all the time here, but it would have had to have been before she let rip and told the world about his exploits. The crew had been scared to death for the last three weeks of just disappearing on trumped up charges. But now the entire world would be in uproar.

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