Chapter 1B

Nardi looked up as Angie burst through the front door and threw her satchel across the room.

"Hi Nardi. What's in the fridge?"

She flopped in an armchair. Nardi scuttled off the fridge to fetch a long cool fruit juice. She knew Angie would not stir from the chair until she had relaxed with a cold refreshing drink. Her own thoughts were still on the casual way the girl's father had dismissed her after their lovemaking.

She hid the simmering resentment as she handed Angie a cool orange juice, with crushed ice, and eyed the sprawled white teenager. He tartan quilted school skirt had slid up her thighs, displaying shapely white legs. The girl seemed to glow with health and vitality. Her lack of care and her casual relaxation was so different to most African girls her age. A moment of resentment nearly surfaced, but she suppressed it. She needed this job after all.

"Angie, your mother has asked me obtain some herbs for cooking. She has another of her meals planned. Would you be willing to pop over to the Herb Lady and pick them up?"

Angie looked up a sparkle in her eye. Nardi looked at the girl's face. She was an incredibly beautiful girl, with those blue eyes and the blonde hair framing her face. No wonder her brother had been pestering her so much. Her breasts jutted full and firm for a fifteen year old, and had nursed no babies as most African girls her age would have done by now.

"Oh yes, I can go for the herbs. It'll get me out of the house for a while."

Nardi wondered why anyone would ever want to leave the luxury of this villa. The girl had no clue how the rest of the world lived! As Nardi turned away to fetch the list of herbs that had already been ordered. She made her decision. It was about time the girl discovered the real world.

"Remember what your parents said about not going into the village bazaar."

Angie frowned, and then she dismissed her parents' caution and worried advice. She had been warned so often not to do this, not to do that, not to go there. The village bazaar had a magical mystery to her. The bustling activity drew her attention. The occasions when she had ventured into its outskirts had been lively and intriguing. Angie took the list from Nardi's hand paused for a moment considering whether to change out of her school uniform. African girls rarely changed out of their school uniform after school. She had begun to realise that men were attracted to girls in school uniforms, and her short tartan skirt flattered her lithe legs.

"The Herb Lady knows what has been ordered, but use the list to check you have everything."

"Yes, yes, don't fuss so."

She crunched the note in her fist and skipped out of the villa.

In her school uniform.

Nardi shook her head. For a moment at least peace descended onto the villa. She was the only one in the house. She stepped over to the telephone, glanced nervously around instinctively then she picked up the phone.

Angie waited impatiently as the gardener seemed to take his time opening the villa gates. His customary furtive glances towards her had become boring. He never seemed to do anything other than secretly ogle her. Angie enjoyed teasing him, but she was eager to dart into the bazaar. That it might provide any real danger was not something that remotely entered her thinking. She was young, pretty, and invincible. She avoided Shaka's gang that she could see clustered together near the traffic lights and turned the other way.

It was not far to the edge of the suburb, and there sprawling in a most haphazard way was the bazaar. She could of course go around it, but that would be boring! There was no reason to go around it, just to pacify worried parents! There were African women milling around in the bazaar. The sea of black bodies was daunting, but it was just men and women shopping. She darted forward, straight for the middle of the bazaar. At first surprised Africans seemed to part for her like a sea parting for her and Angie glanced around eagerly.

The stalls were often not more than timber boards across wooden trestles. Some more permanent structures had timber frames and corrugated sheets to keep the rain off the goods on display. Circling the bazaar better built shops predominated, made from blocks, some plastered, some just bare blocks. The goods on display had distracted Angie, she marvelled to see Africans selling empty tin cans, wondering that these had enough value that they could be sold at a market. Back home she had not thought twice about throwing empty tins in the bin, never thinking that anyone would put a value on them.

Then she saw a stall selling coloured stones and pressed closer to see what was there. The intricate patterns embedded in the stones were fascinating and she became absorbed, too absorbed as the Africans gathered closer.

When a warm hand slid under her short skirt, she remembered why she had taken this route. Her absorption in the mineral stones forgotten as a calloused hand stroked the softness of her legs. She found it remarkable that men would want to put their hands up her skirt, but the sensations of their stroking hands was pretty wild. The hand between her legs reached higher and cupped her vulva and squeezed. Shocking sensations shot through Angie and she darted away from the exploring hand, not quite ready for the exquisite thrills that the hand on her vulva had created. She turned looking for anyone following her as he hurried away. The usual mass of bustling Africans gave no indication of anyone following, and she relaxed.

She passed another stall selling woven baskets, and then saw a table selling candles, she wandered over curious whether any would be the sort of scented candles she liked in her room. She soon realised that these were more basic fundamental candles, but before the moved away another unknown hand cupped and squeezed her bottom. This hand was safely on the outside of her skirt, but Angie's skin still tingled as the hand lightly caressed and circled the soft round curve of her bottom. Angie felt safer with the hand outside her clothes, and savoured the sensations the exploring hand created. She was sure this was what their gardener wanted to do but was too scared to try.

The African behind her had no fear of losing his job, but when his hand pushed up under her skirt and then up under her panties to explore Angie's soft curves, she became nervous and pulled away. The hand inside her panties caught and Angie twisted and pulled away, for a sudden moment she thought she was going to lose her panties! Then the hand wriggled free and Angie decided to move on darting away from the bold African who had slipped her hand inside her panties. That had been the first time a hand had been inside her panties. Angie's heart raced with the excitement of the forbidden deed, but she scurried away uncertain how to respond.

She weaved through the crowds of people in the bazaar. She had noticed the African women were fully covered in long wrap around colourful wraps with varying weaves. The African men were often in blue or orange boiler suits; though some wore only shorts and her eyes drank in muscled black chests and arms, and powerful thighs. She turned away quickly if an African caught her looking.

Was she any different from the men who surreptitiously looked at her?

When she passed a stall selling soapstone carvings she became distracted again, pushing close to examine the carefully made carvings. The carvings were very carefully made, in various shapes and colours. Being on a market stall for Africans they were not very expensive at all, and she was just considering a purchase when a hand slipped between her arm and her body before curling around and clasping her jutting breast. She clamped her arm down trapping the arm, but that left the hand free to clasp and squeeze her breast sending tingling bursts through her. She quickly released the arm and sought to twist away. All that happened was the hand on her breast clamped hard and pulled her backwards till she was pressed back into a warm hard and big body.

She stamped her foot down on bare toes and scrambled forward as the grip on her breast weakened. She whirled around ready to let rip into this African who had moved beyond a sly grip. Her words stalled as she saw the African. He was a giant of a man. He seemed to tower over her. He was naked above the waist and the scars on his muscled were not tribal, but fight scars. Knife wounds, and bullet scars. She caught his eyes and shivered at the cold look in them. Not the usual grinning lust. He stepped forward, and Angie turned and ran.

Her mind panicked. She knew instinctively that the African was no good, that if he got his hands on her she might never see her parents again! She ducked and weaved, and dodged around Africans who not unused to people darting around the market, though it was a rare to see a young pretty blonde girl in the market.

She glanced behind and the sight of the giant of a man blundering after her, pushing people casually aside, panicked her further and she put an extra surge in movement. She changed aisles, slipped through gaps between stalls, making for the edge of the market.

At the edge of the market, she decided she had lost him, but remained edgy. A number of African men were watching her. With heart pounding she slowed to a walk. The atmosphere of the market had changed, or her perception of it had changed. She saw an alleyway between two shops, by heading down there and circling behind the shops, she could get to the Herb Lady's house and keep out of sight of anyone looking for her from the market.

As she approached the alleyway she kept a wary eye on the Bantu African standing near the shop and watching her approach. It was normal for African men to watch her, and this did not alarm her, but she was nervous after her sudden shock with the giant African. As she entered the alleyway she glanced back at the market to see if that giant was observing her entry to the alleyway. When strong arms grasped her arms and pinioned them to her side she squawked in surprise. All of a sudden she found she had been lifted off her feet and was being bundled deeper into the shadow of the alleyway. A black hole seemed to open beneath her feet. The arms released her and she tumbled forward into darkness.

She landed on her feet on sloping ground, which caught her off guard, and she tipped forward losing her balance and she rolled down the slope into a cellar. She sensed rather than saw the African behind her jump down and started to follow her down the slope. A short pause and flaps slammed, and she heard a bolt slam home above her.

Angie was terrified.

She was alone in the dark with an African man and that slamming bolt seemed to cut her off from the safe world she knew. She trembled in fright. This was not the same as being casually fondled by grinning African men. What did he want? Did she really want to know what he wanted? What he might do to her? He might kill her to prevent her telling on him! Her scream came out as a fearful whimper. She sensed rather than saw the man loom up in front of her, then his fingers were unbuttoning her schoolgirl blouse. She froze and nimble fingers worked through the buttons on her blouse. Then it was being pushed over her shoulders and dropped to the floor. Strong hands grasped her bra and forcefully pushed it up over her swelling breasts, making no attempt to unclip it.

The stretching material hurt as it took the strain of rising over her mounds. She heard the African curse and his hot breath was in his face as he pulled her close to pull the bra over her head.

Then one of his hands grasped her long silky blonde hair and pulled down with a yank. Angie yelped at the pain. Her head shot backwards and she looked up into darkness as the African held her close.

"You keep quite girl, or you will be in real trouble!"

Angie fought the embarrassment of emptying her bowels. She was in real trouble already and the strength of this African was self-evident despite his slender form. She whimpered again; the African, taking this as her acquiescence, pushed her away from him slightly while keeping her hair tight in his grasp. His other hand came up and grasped the pale round orb only partly in sight due to the darkness of the cellar. Angie's breath caught as a hand grasped her bare breast firmly. She had never felt a hand on her breast except through clothes. The greedy squeezing warm hand on her bare breast sent unexpected sparks flying through her body, confusing her.

The Bantu African, a man named Mahat to his friends, relished the feel of the soft but firm breast and squeezed it with wonder. He had never been with, or even touched a white woman before, and this gasping squirming girl was everything he had been told about. He had balked when her had seen her beauty. Not believing such a wonder was walking straight into the trap he had prepared when his sister Nardi called. He had never believed his timid sister would go along with the plan he had suggested to her, despite his badgering.

Now his hand cupped a magnificent full white breast in his hard hand, while his other hand firmly gripped the long silky blonde hair he had seen cascading down her back. He heard the girl gasp and moan and he thought of that sweet peach mouth he had seen below bright blue eyes. It was the way she had looked back at the market place. Her fear and wariness so evident that his own confidence had soared at hat he planned to do. This girl would be a treasure trove in dark alleyways, in the African township slums and villages around Durban.

First he would have to break her in! His fingers found the puckered nipple and he squeezed. He squeezed hard. The girl yelped.

"Keep quiet girl! I warned you!"

"But you hurt me."

He squeezed her nipple hard again. The girl squirmed in his grasp, wriggling and testing the hand holding her hair, but only a shocked gasp escaped her lips.

"That's better girl."

The African ran his palm over her abused nipple in a gentle caress and Angie's knees felt weak as radiant heat made her nipple throb as the blood rushed back. The gentle caress of the palm after the abuse of the fingers was sending shocking waves of pleasure through her loins as though there was some connection between them.

"Now don't try and tell me that does not feel just fantastic."

Angie kept silently. She was still scared to death but the sensation in her nipple was hot and fiery. She remembered her friend Joanne's excited eyes when she whispered her hope that Shaka would suck her nipples. Suddenly she could understand why her friend had been excited.

But this was not Shaka. This was a dark grubby cellar, and no one would think she was missing for hours. This brutal hard man who would be able to do as he liked with her for hours before anyone came looking. She did not know what this man would do to her, or what he might do to her afterwards to keep her quiet. So she trembled, knew fear, and wished her daddy was there to save her.

Mahat did care a whit what was going through the girls mind. His cock was fit to burst as he fondled the magnificent round orb in his eager grasp. It was soft, warm and round and resilient in his squeezing hand, and he could not believe his luck. He would not be disturbed in this cellar, and he could do whatever he liked with this flower of white womanhood.

His hand left her breast and caressed and stroked the girl's soft body. He ran his hand in wonder over her silky fresh skin and pulled her close to savour her fresh innocent fragrance. He quivered as his hand enjoyed the slim inward curve of her waist, before encountering her skirt. He searched for the zip and lowered it, enjoying the fit of trembling that overtook the girl as her tartan schoolgirl skirt slipped loosely over her hips and down to her feet. He pushed the girl away as with one hand he sought out and pushed down the girl's panties, in the darkness he could see them cling to her ankles.

"Ok, step out of your panties."

Angie shivered at the words. She was naked in front of a man, other than her family, and she wished she were somewhere else. If only she had listened to her parents. Then she stepped out of her panties.

"Good girl, just do whatever I want, and everything will be fine."

He pulled the girl closer, enjoying her warm femininity, as with his free hand he freed his cock from his trousers. Then he pushed her down to her knees in front of him.

Angie was confused as she was pushed down to her knees. She had no idea what he wanted. She had already begun to realise from observation that African were surprisingly strong physically, so his strength in pushing her to her knees was no surprise. The feeling that came over to be so weak in a man's grip surprised her. His presence loomed above her, his darkness seemed greater than the room's darkness, and she looked up at him.

When a warm round object butted her lips she was taken completely by surprise. The man smell of the African was overpowering and pungent. She pulled away from the nudging object even more confused. One of his hands cupped the back of her head and pulled her forward. Then her lips were battered again and she turned her head, the warm hard object had a soft edge, and slid across her cheek. The hard end passed over her lips and behind it a gnarled length of warm cylinder slid over her lips and across her cheek.

'Oh, my God, it must be his cock!'

Angie had never seen a cock, never touched one, even through a man's trousers. She had never even seen a picture of one, but she had gossiped with other girls. She understood the idea of cock sucking, and thought it a gross idea. The feel of a warm throbbing length of hard flesh sliding over her lips and cheek assaulting her senses was shocking. She knew now what he wanted and was scared. In the pit of her stomach, butterflies swarmed.

"Urghhh!"

"Open your mouth."

Confused Angie kept her mouth shut. The hot cock slid back across her lips and she had no alternative to taste cock on her lips. She felt throbbing veins slide over her cheek, and she quivered in his grasp. Then the head of the cock was butting at her mouth again.

"Open your mouth!" The African raised his voice.

A second hand grasped her hair and tightened its grip. She could feel then ends of hair being stretched from her skull. If it was to be believed some girls liked sucking cock! Angie whimpered, then opened her mouth. The cock surged in and she gagged around it is its thickness stretched her mouth. In a sudden rush several inches of cock seemed to thrust deep into her mouth. She tried to pull away, but the African held her head firmly.

"Good girl, easy now, relax, that's it. No one is going to hurt you. We are just going to have some fun!"

Fun! Angie's widened in disbelief. The brute was forcing her to take his cock in her mouth and claiming they were going to have fun! The cock in her mouth receded and Angie sighed in relief, but then it was being pushed alarmingly deep into her mouth again. The hands on her head held her firm, preventing her pulling away, and Angie found herself adapting to the strangeness of its warm thickness in her mouth. Without realising it her lips closed over the cock as the African pulled his cock back out of her mouth.

"Fuck, that's good," gasped the African standing above her.

His hands in her hair relaxed and he pushed back in. Angie relaxed as the pressure on her head eased. When the cock thrust back into her mouth she managed to suppress her panic as she realised he was not trying to thrust down her throat, as she had feared.

The African pulled his cock back, and Angie became conscious of the gnarled throbbing veins that lined the fleshy member as it slid across her lips. Her fear receded as the threat seemed to pass. The African was focussed on sliding his cock in and out of her mouth, and not pushing it deep into her mouth. She knelt at his feet, and things seemed to calm down as the African focused on sliding his cock in and out of her mouth. This was cock sucking she realised except she was not sucking, just kneeling and accepting it.

Her fear receded further. The grasp on her hair had loosened. She started to focus on the cock in her mouth. It was warm and pulsing. Feeling her lips pass over gnarled throbbing lips was the strangest experience. She experimentally tightened her lips around it as it slid out and was surprised to hear the African groan. It set off a tingling motion that seemed to run up and down her spine with its centre in her loins. Girls were supposed to like sucking cock! Her friends had gossiped about it. She never had expected to be doing it hear in a dark cellar after an African had snatched her off the street!

The male cock was pungent, and she examined the taste of it on her lips. She tightened her lips as it slid in but quickly released it, as it seemed strange as it pushed inward. Instead she gripped the cock with her lips as it slid out, and in a moment of unthinking instinctive reaction she sucked on the receding member. She was shocked when the African shivered, trembled and groaned in obvious delight. Her hands came up to grasp his naked legs, suddenly fearful he would fall on her. Then his hands pushed her head forward and down. She did not resist his repositioning of her head.

His legs, which were surprisingly, warm and hairy in her inexperienced hands, shifted and she could sense he was repositioning his hips. Then when the cock slid back into her mouth. This time it was aimed downwards and she could not get her tongue out of the way.