Chapter 1

Joseph's cock lurched in his pants.

"Just look at that," he exclaimed.

Pieta Mboku, his assistant looked across, and his cock also lurched in his trousers.

Their eyes were both focused on a tightly clad, jean covered, curvy derriere swinging from side to side. Full, shapely thighs were just as tightly clad and just as easily observed as a young white woman strolled along the roadside.

They ogled the soft white beauty strolling so carelessly down the street. Blond wavy curls settled around her shoulders, occasional blown by the hot African breeze.

It was a rare sight to see white women walking alone in Harare, but this one was firmly holding the leash of a straining, lunging dog. A large dog eager to experience the new smells to be found outside the walls of the villa that comprised the only home it had known. Presumably this was the reason for her walk, giving her pet some exercise.

She might even be heading for the local shops, which were close by. She looked a bit young to be on the streets alone. Was she the wife of a newly arrived white professional? His country was always recruiting white engineers and accountants. Joseph resented it.

She looked young to be married. White women seemed to marry when they were so much older than African women. He could not understand that either. Did the white race have such a lack of understanding of sexuality that they thought late marriages were natural?

"Stop the car at the junction!"

Pieta pulled the car over and tried to get the girl back into his vision.

"Don't be so obvious Pieta! You need to practice discreet observation!"

"Yes, major!"

Pieta cursed, but below his breathe. He was too scared of his boss to do otherwise. His boss had a clear view through the car's wing mirror. It was easy for him to see the young curvy beauty, but Pieta had no chance!

Joseph eyed the approaching teenager as she swayed along, occasionally jigging in response to the dog's lurches. He guessed her age at 17, but his attention was now on the full orbs standing proud from her chest. She was wearing a light, tight top that emphasised her figure.

Every time the dog lurched those orbs bounced and jigged.

If she had been black, and it had been at night, he would assumed she was a prostitute. African women did not display themselves like that, not at night, and not during the day.

White women dressed so casually, and without regard for the heat. They seemed to learn nothing from sensible proud African women, who would not dream of wearing such sparse clothing.

They tempted men, and yet were affronted when propositioned.

As she passed the car, casting them only a cursory glance, he observed slim, smooth white arms and shoulders, and his cock hardened further.

Joseph was a Major in the Central Intelligence Organization. A powerful position that led most Africans to fear him. If Joseph wanted someone to disappear, they disappeared, and not just if they were black.

As the girl past the bonnet of his car he switched his gaze back to that delightfully round bottom. A full well rounded bottom that advertised the delights that her bottom offered a man. Below firm, shapely thighs equally tightly clad displayed legs most African men could only dream of getting between. She would survive long with such attributes, serving men's lusts.

A young woman with firm legs and hips like that would last a long time in one of his brothels!

On the one hand he desired and wanted such a young woman to satisfy his own lusts, he knew many men who would pay good money to enjoy her charms. She was white and a beauty and therefore worth far more than the factory workers using his brothels could afford to pay.

Law enforcement was not, and never had been his primary concern. The exercise of power and control had always been very satisfying to Joseph. Exercising such power over white women had been an unexpected side benefit of his career, and not just for his sexual satisfaction. He had used his power to learn about and exploit white women and now successfully ran a profitable escort service. A business that provided rich African men with whatever they wanted, and there were plenty of rich Africans who wanted young and white bodies to have their fun with.

That tightly clad curvy derriere could be the source of new riches.

Vicky tried to keep the stupid dog under control. It was really much stronger than she had realised.

She was bored, confused, and emotionally taut. When her father had told her they were going to Africa she had been delighted. Images of wild animals, spectacular mountains, Zulu warriors had filled her thoughts.

Since they had arrived a month ago, she had felt imprisoned. Locked inside their villa 24 hours a day. Her father actually locked the gates after he went to work, locking them inside! It was intolerable!

He said it was for their safety, but Vicky had not seen any danger. Just high walls and locked gates!

The garden was big enough. Four acres of acres of lush greenery, with swimming pool and tennis courts, but no boys! In a month she had no idea who lived on the other side of those walls.

She was 17 years old and she needed a boyfriend.

She needed one!

Her father did not understand.

She had started waking up in the morning with a wet pussy!

In the last 4 weeks she had not seen one white boy her age!

She had seen a few white men her father's age, and their had been other young white women her age around, though she had not made friends with one yet.

Four weeks without even seeing a white boy her age! How could she spend two years in this country without the attention she had been starting to get back home!

She was still a virgin.

She did not want to stay one until she was an old woman in her twenties!

So when Daddy employed a new gardener to look after the garden, and had given him the spare set of keys! She had inveigled him into letting her take Rover for a walk to the shops.

He had not been happy to let her out of the villa, without direction from her father.

But she had seen the way he had sneaked looks at her. She did not like the way he stared her. He was an old man. Christ he was in his sixties! But look he did, and so Vicky had put on her tightest top, smiled sweetly, and demanded that he open the gate for her.

He had blustered and dithered, but she had pushed her chest forward leaving him swallowing hard, and fumbling for the keys.

So she had finally stepped out the gates.

Her first steps of freedom!

No father chivvying and shepherding her about.

She looked about. The first thing she noticed was that there were no white people in the street. The villas were spaced evenly along the street, set back from the road with patched of grass. At odd intervals flowering shrubs, and bushes dotted the roadside. There were no trees near the villa walls. The thought came to her that this must be deliberate to stop people using the trees to climb over the walls. She became aware that nearly every black person in the street had stopped what they were doing, and were looking at her. Not black person, she corrected herself. They were Africans, she must remember to think like that.

She set off down the street in the direction of the shops. She had only visited them once and her father had not wanted to take her their again, but their must be something interesting there.

The dog leaped and lunged forward nearly pulling her off her feet. Her full breasts bounced and jigged and everyone seemed to be looking at them! She blushed and yelled at the dog, pulling it back towards her. Then ignoring the stares she set off again.

At the next villa entrance she passed 3 African men sitting drinking tea. Their tin cups forgotten as they ogled at her. She ignored them and strode past, suddenly conscious of their eyes on her bottom. She flushed again. They were all old enough to be her father!

Two gates later there was another group of African men sitting and chatting. These were younger and drinking beer. They made no attempt to hide their interest in her. Swigging their cold beers they spoke to each other in some strange African dialect, laughing and grinning.

She would have liked to know what they had just said, then decided it might be better if she didn't know. Nevertheless she slowed her pace as she passed them.

Her breath caught in her throat, and her chest seemed to tighten. They may be black but they were men and maybe they wanted to do things to her!

Wicked naughty things!

If only she could find a man who would do something! She walked on quickly confused at the sudden race of emotions, and a flush of guilt at her thoughts.

She was acutely conscious of the confusing changes in her body that the looks of these men had set off.

God, her nipples had gone hard!

As she walked she found it easier to swing her hips. Her pussy had dampened and the crotch of her panties was riding up uncomfortably. She wriggled her hips. A car had pulled up at the junction, and she ignored the African men inside. Turning the corner she saw the shops and almost changed her mind. They seemed to be swarming with people. Hordes of black people!

She could not see a white face among them.

Then she gathered herself and walked on. The alternative was to go home and hide behind those large walls. There must be something of interest to see. She just had to be confident. She pulled on the dog's leash; the protection the large dog would offer was comforting.

Ten minutes later Vicky was in shop selling ornamental wooden carvings. The shop had filled up quite quickly after she entered it, though she was so engrossed in the intricate carvings that she did not notice. As she stood admiring a particularly ornate carving a warm hand stroked over her bottom. She jumped in surprise, and pulled away from the hand. Even as she pulled away her heart started racing and her pulse quickened.

The hand had been warm, and the feeling left behind a pleasant sensation. Her pussy tightened and throbbed in a strange nice way.

She looked behind to see grinning Africans. Who had touched her? They just grinned brazenly at her. She stepped away, but it was not easy, as the shop had become so crowded. She squeezed past an African man away from the mystery groper. Where had they all come from? Another hand came to rest on her slim waist. She twisted away, even as her heart pounded.

The warmth of the strange hand on her waist seemed strangely comforting. Nevertheless she pulled away to find her way blocked by another tall African. He stepped towards and she backed away. But there was another African close behind her.

She froze, slightly alarmed. She looked at the African in front of her and he grinned. It was not a comforting grin. Vicky's breath caught. Her stomach roiled in sudden fear. A delicious fear that set her heart racing. This man wanted to do something to her!

Her dad had been right she should not have come to these shops on her own. She pulled on the lead, but the dog just cowered down. Even the dog had the sense to realise a situation had arisen. It was afraid of the African men pressing around his new mistress.

The African in front of her raised his hand and cupped her cheek. His hand caressed the soft skin.

"So soft, so beautiful".

She tried to pull way but his hand followed.

Another warm hand arrived and softly caressed her bottom from behind. The African she had been squeezing past, slipped his arm around her slim waist and sought to pull her towards him. This left a space to her right that was quickly filled by another African. They all seemed to be crowding around her!

She tried to get away, and looked for the shopkeeper. Surely he would help. She raised herself on her toes to look over the shoulder of the African in front to try and attract the shopkeeper's attention.

She saw him near the door and her eyes widened as she watched him flick the sign over to indicate the shop was closed, before turning back grinning. Just at that moment a warm hand slipped between her legs and for the first time in her life a man's hand stroked across her pussy.

She had never let one of her boyfriend's in England do that.

She closed her eyes as hot sensations shot from her loins.

The Africans crowding around saw her reaction and grinned. Eight African cocks sprang to attention as they realised this white sensationally pretty white girl was not going to start screaming!

Vicky opened her eyes, and twisted trying to push the hand away. She looked at the African in front of her, but he just grinned and reached for her. She drew away from and felt the warm body of an African man press against her back.

She shivered as the African in front of her reached out with his hand and stroked her face again. He seemed mesmerized by her soft white skin and ran his hand over her soft cheek again. A look of wonder on his face as heenjoyed the soft, white, pretty face in the palm of his hand.

Another African reached up and ran his hand through her long blond hair.

Vicky's heart raced.

She breathed in the pungent smell of the crowding African men, and the strong masculine smell was overpowering. Black hands were stroking her bare arms. It was as though every African present wanted to touch some part of her.

Then she jumped in surprise and shock as the African man behind her reached around and grasped and fondled her breasts. She had allowed any boy who was brave enough to touch and play with them. The hands of the African were different.

Strong, bold, black hands that squeezed and fondled in a manner that left her legs weak. The fumbling boys back home had not triggered the hot sensations these hands generated. Without realising it she relaxed into the arms of the African behind her, and gasped as something hot and hard rubbed against her bottom!

Another African reached in through the press and ran up her jean clad leg seeking out a chance to squeeze her pussy. She made no attempt this time to push it away. The babble of the excited African men was rising.

Vicky's heart was pounding.

These men were going to do things to her!

Her virgin pussy throbbed and the sensations in her loins were hot and unbelievably exquisite.

Joseph pounded on the shop door.

As soon as he saw the shopkeeper flick the sign over to closed, he had known the white girl inside was in trouble!

There were a sizable number of African men in that shop and the shopkeeper would be selling a different product than wood carvings if Joseph did not act quickly!

He was not prepared to have such a lovely girl become soiled goods at the hands of these peasants! It would cost him money! Never mind his own enjoyment.

"Pieta! Get around the back!"

"We won't have time! Those horny bastards are already stripping her!"

Joseph looked up to see one of the Africans toss aside the ornate, narrow belt he had seen decorating the girl's slim waist.

The shopkeeper inside was still trying to shoo him away.

He pulled out his gun and pointed it at the shop's lock.

The look of shock and panic on the shopkeeper's face would have been comical, if Joseph had just heard the distinct sound of tearing cloth from inside the shop and a roar from the African's inside!

He had little time to waste.

Pieta slammed his CIO warrant pass against the glass, and the shopkeeper's legs seemed to give way as he looked with horror at the dreaded symbol of the Zimbabwe secret police!

He fumbled quickly opening the locked door, and was relieved to be just violently pushed aside as the two men rushed inside. He collapsed on the floor and stayed there as shots rang out!

Joseph knew these rampant, aroused African males with a young white girl in their grasp were not going to surrender her just by asking.

One shot had not been enough!

The second and last one that would be aimed at the ceiling was fired from thrust in among the African heads around the girl.

It was enough as startled, panicked and confused Africans dived for cover. Leaving Vicky struggling in the arms of the African, now seeking to use her as a shield. Her jeans had been pushed partly down her hips, her top was torn and a pert jutting breast with a hardened pink tip had burst out.

Joseph paused to drink in the lovely sight.

Then he raised the gun and pointed it at the head of the African behind her.

That African promptly shrieked and fell to his feet, curling into a ball, babbling incoherently.

The white girl looked confused, stunned, her flushed pretty face shone. Belatedly she reached up a hand to cover her exposed breast. Suddenly conscious that her jeans were halfway down her hips.

He realised this girl had not been afraid or terrified by what the Africans had been preparing to do.

She had been excited, and aroused.

Perfect, he thought, just perfect. She would be a fantastic whore!

Africa was short of enthusiastic and pretty white whores.

He almost rubbed his hand at the thought of the money he would make!

He reached forward and took her hand pulling her forcefully towards him.

Startled she allowed herself to be pulled forward by this handsome African with a gun! She stumbled against him, and he steadied her with an arm around her waist.

"Come on sweetpea, I have saved you!"

Vicky caught herself starting to pout. She hadn't wanted to be saved. Those men had been going to do things to her...

She just knew she had been about to be fucked for the first time, and this man had stopped them! She started to complain, when the hand around her waist dropped to cup her bottom and pull her close.

He has pulled her very close, and she felt a hot hardness press against her stomach.

The African behind her had been enthusiastically rubbing his hardness against her soft bottom. Now she felt her rescuer's hard cock was pushing against her soft stomach!

She felt her pulse race, as she looked up at the African who had scared the others way. His eyes were on her partly exposed breast, and she could see he liked what he was looking at.

Her heart started racing again, and she stopped resisting as the hand on her bottom urged her closer to the hot hardness pressing into her. She could feel it throbbing!

This man had 'saved her' because he wanted what the other Africans had been going to take.

She was still going to be fucked!

She was sure of it!

She saw his gaze on her face and flushed looking away.

Joseph's arm passed possessively around her slim waist as he led her out of the shop. The former horny African men were now driven by fear to keep out of his way. Pieta strolled arrogantly and confidently past them, noting that none dared meet his gaze.

Vicky was acutely conscious of the strong, warm arm around the waist. Africans gathering out side the shop were staring at her. She had forgotten her exposed breast, but her thoughts were on the strong man at her side, and the possessive way he held her close.

The warmth of his body, she looked up at him. He was glaring at the crowd who quickly parted for him as he made his way to his car. She was impressed at the way they cleared for him. When she walked these shops with her father she had been regularly groped and fondled, even in her father's presence.

These same Africans now watched and kept clear of the man holding her. His colleague following behind suddenly rushed forward and open one of the rear doors of the car.

She noted the distinctive sign, and recognised it as a Mercedes. An expensive car and it was much more impressive that the usual cars driven by accident.

She slipped into the back seat and the African followed her in while the other closed the door, before rushing around to the driver's door.

"Well sweetpea, that was close! What is your name?"

"Vicky... Vicky Jones." She smiled tentatively up at the African.

"My name is Joseph, and I work for government security."

Vicky's eyes widened, then as he held up a badge she looked at it. Central Intelligence Organisation... her eyes focussed on those words. Even though she had only been in the country she had heard on the CIO.

The government's 'Terror Squad' was renowned for its brutality and ruthlessness. Dismissed by the white population she had met, Vicky had noticed that dismissal was edged with nervousness. She looked closer and realised that 'Joseph' was a Major in that force. That explained the expensive car. She couldn't help but be impressed.

Joseph's interest was in the firm pink mound jutting through the torn cloth. It was full, and looked firm. The pink tip was already hardened, but not fully aroused. He grinned and reached forward.

Vicky gasped as a black hand firmly cupped her exposed breast and lightly squeezed. The hand was hot and strong, the light caress and squeezing soon became firmer and she squirmed at the acute hot flush that flooded her loins. She fell back in the car, but an arm around her shoulders pulled her close and the hand on her breast became the focal point of her life.

Boys had sought a quick grope before, quick daring grabs, but Joseph's adept and confident fondling of her was the first time she had felt a warm strong hand caress the bare skin of her breast.

His palm seemed slid backwards and forwards across her nipple and hot darts of pleasure seemed to quiver through her body. Oh Wow! "Oh!" she gasped.

"Like that sweetpea?"

She looked up at the confident grinning African, and he smiled at her and his hand worked magic on her breast!

Joseph looked down into startled and wide blue eyes. She looked so confused, but was obviously excited. Those wide eyes showed no fear, and the firming nipple under his palm demonstrated the young woman's growing sexual arousal.

Her face, now he could see it up close and without distractions, was perfect. An oval of perfection, with soft white cheeks flushed pink with excitement. He just a loved blushing, embarrassed, submissive white women, and this girl had all the behavior of a natural submissive.

He squeezed the firm, full and young breast in his hand. African women rarely had breasts so full and firm for long, and the firm roundness in his hand was a marvel.

Black men would pay good money just to suck on round full white breasts like these. They would love to taste the fresh pink nipple, and run their greedy tongues over it. Those sort of men would not be able to afford more, but would happily spend the rest of the month waiting and dreaming of doing it again.

This young honey would probably cream in her pants as black men queued in line to pay Z$5 dollars to suck and lick her nipples. Then when he took her home afterwards she would be so hot and aroused she would be leaping on his cock for satisfaction, or any other male cock that was available.

He grinned and ran a thumb across peach perfect lips. She had a high forehead and the blond curls framed her perfection. He could sense her uncertainty how to respond to the probing thumb at her mouth, and grinned at this evidence of her innocence. A more experienced woman would be sucking his thumb into her mouth, or sticking out her tongue to lick her lips, or his thumb.

He cherished such innocence. She would not retain it long, but the men he sold her to would recognise and delight in their opportunity to despoil an innocent, young, white beauty like this.

Not that his own throbbing cock was not signaling its own appreciation of the soft warm female held close.

He squeezed the youthful, full, white orb, in his hand and watched her eyes widen further, her pretty face flush, and her perfect lips gasp and part. God she was worth a fortune!

He knew men who would be willing to pay a fortune to hold such a white beauty in their hand while they guided those perfect lips over their lust hardened black cocks. Or to have that so pretty white face forced between their black buttocks until her soft tongue licked, lapped and pushed in.

He bent his head and gently kissed those softly parted lips. He felt her sudden spasm as his lips pressed firmly down, and grinned wondering if she had ever been really kissed before.

He could not understand Englishmen who allowed such pretty females in their family to remain unmarried. If this young woman had been African, she would have been married years ago, and have a brood of kids by now. That was how it should be!

Not that he could complain. There would then be no opportunity for men like him to have their fun with them.

He lifted his lips from hers, and found them following after. He grinned even innocence, could not hide the passion underneath.

"How old are you Vicky?"

"Seventeen!" There was a defiant note in her voice, and it would not have surprised him if she had told him her seventeenth birthday had been just two weeks earlier. Vicky kept quiet about that, not wanting him to think of her as a youngster.

He looked down at the torn top and exposed, rounded pink flesh.

"Your mum at home?"

Vicky nodded.

"Would she understand you coming home like this?" He nodded at the torn clothes, and nearly laughed at the sudden alarm in her eyes.

"Perhaps we should go back to my villa, where I am sure I can find you a new top."

Vicky was quick to accept. Besides she did not want to go home at the moment. She looked up at the handsome African who had, she decided, rescued her indeed.

He grinned back down at her and when his lips lowered, hers rose to meet them!

The kiss was passionate, and Vicky eagerly responded. She felt his arm, comforting and strong around her. His lips pressed down on hers, and his tongue snaked into her mouth.

Vicky's heart leapt into her throat in shock and excitement. She was unsure how to respond, but his probing searching tongue found hers and her own tongue leapt to meet it.

She stopped thinking and kissed.

His tongue was hot and active, duelling and sliding against her own more slender tongue. She nearly fainted from pleasure and excitement. Kissing like this was wild! His arm around her made her feel safe, and the heat of a man's body pressing against her own was wonderful and thrilling.

She give no thought that he was black.

That she was white was very much on Joseph's mind. She was cute, pretty, and responsive. He could sense this was all knew to her, and he relished the idea that she might really by innocent and naive. He loved breaking in innocent white girls. His clients would pay huge sums for the pleasure such a delightful, enthusiastic innocent would provide them.

At seventeen she was a lot older than many of them would prefer, but her soft beauty was a marvel they would treasure.

His hands stroked and caressed her soft slim form, but Vicky's focus was on her mouth and the wonderful discovery she had made. Now she knew what real kissing was all about!

Vicky hardly noticed as the car passed through the wrought iron gates of a high walled villa. She hardly noticed the car come to a halt. All her senses were focused on the exciting, exploring, demanding male tongue in her mouth. Male lips crushed her own soft lips, in an exciting, demanding way. Her world had entered a new dimension. This was what she had needed. To be held, kissed and caressed. To be held against a hard male body.

Her body was on fire with a lust and excitement she had never felt before. When Joseph pulled away to open the car door, he had to push the eagerly kissing girl away. He laughed with amusement at her enthusiasm.

Pieta opened the door for him, and Joseph stepped out. Vicky followed, and Pieta ogled lustfully the round white breast, partly exposed by the torn cloth. His cock stood to attention in his trousers, as it had during the drive to Joseph's villa. The sounds in the backseat had been clear enough, and he knew Joseph well enough to know the man would not deny him the opportunity to fuck the girl, once he had taken his own pleasure.

The sight of that soft skinned, round, jutting pink tipped orb fired his own lust. Like many Africans he had a deep desire to bed as many white women as possible, and this young honey was particularly tempting. He would want to suck on that nipple, nibble on that soft white ear, and ram his black cock hard and deep inside that slim, white body.

Vicky had forgotten her exposed breast. She looked at the yellow painted villa, in front of her with its ornamental red stone framed windows. The gardens were lush and vibrant with colour.

She had thought the villa her father's white employer had provided was an example of sumptuous colonial splendour, even if it was slightly run down. This villa, by comparison, was sharp and bright. Recently painted, with every sign of careful and meticulous maintenance. The gardens had smartly clipped lawns. The flowers were so brilliant, and colourful, she almost felt someone had dusted the leaves.

This villa oozed wealth and privilege.