Hilary Irvine's Return to the Dark Continent - Cover

Hilary Irvine's Return to the Dark Continent

Copyright© 2010 by dodgynubian

Chapter 3

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 3 - A second story featuring a British journalist encountering difficulties of a sexual nature whilst in Africa.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Reluctant   Rape   Interracial   Black Male   White Female  

Now alone Hilary collapsed in tears, sobbing her heart out. Sobbing because she'd been kidnapped, beaten, and raped. And because her future seemed to only hold more of the same.

After a tearful while Hilary had cried herself out. So she wiped away hers tears and took a deep breath.

"Today has been shit," she sighed out loud, "But tomorrow is another day!"

With that determined thought she climbed onto the mattress, pulled the coarse woollen blanket over, and swiftly dozed off.

The next day brought two surprises. Firstly the sun was well up in the sky before Hilary woke up. Clearly exhaustion had overruled her terror. Secondly Umbatu did come to visit and exert his ownership rights over her body. Not that day and indeed nor the next.

In the absence of a homicidal rapist Hilary had the opportunity to study her surroundings. Dominating the circular space was a large double bed with a pillow and a coarse woollen blanket. Looking from the doorway, to the left were two buckets - one serving as a toilet the other with clean water for washing. Moving round was a TV with a video recorder. Hilary tried to watch but the thing seemed stuck on some Nigerian channel. She watched for a while until the news came on but there was no mention of her disappearance. On the other side of the bed was a dressing table with a large oval mirror. A rickety chair completed the furniture.

Strewn about the place were several Nigerian women's magazines.

The dressing table had two drawers. The left was stuffed with makeup of all sorts - a female shaver, hair products, lipstick, blusher, perfume ... for all colors of women in the world. Hilary rummaged thru and was momentarily thrilled to discover a nail file. But an attempt to use it to on the bars of a window proved fruitless - the file became more damaged than the bar and the screeching noise seemed fit to wake the dead. A second rummage produced a hair clip. Hilary used it in an attempt to pick the lock of the heavy wooden door. In the movies this seemed easy but no matter how Hilary twisted the clip it had absolutely no effect.

The drawer on the right was also stuffed - with clothing, in the flimsiest sense of the word. Baby doll nighties, bras and knickers.

All silky, lacy and almost see-thru. Against her feminist instincts

Hilary put on a dark blue pair of panties with black lace, together with matching nightie that barely reached down to past her peachy butt.

"I look like a Parisian whore!" she said out loud as she examined herself in the mirror.

Dressing like a whore was better than remaining stark naked in a camp of over fifty men.

The only human contact Hilary had was with Sarge and Corp who took it in turns to bring her food and attend to the buckets.

Sarge clearly thought himself the jolly funny type. However his comments were of such crudity - focusing on his desire to fuck Hilary's blonde pussy, her tight butt, her pouty mouth, her milky white tits - that the object of his lustful desire found nothing funny in him.

Corp said less but Hilary found him the more hateful. There was something sinister in the way he looked at her - always a sideways sneering look. When he talked it was always in an attempt to instill some fear in her, telling her that Umbatu was coming to rape her, to kill her, to throw her to the wolves.

Finding both their conversation skills lacking Hilary did her best to ignore them when they entered. She chose to sit in her chair attending to her hair, doing her best to convey the impression that she regarded

Sarge and Corp as her servants. The rotund Sarge seemed disappointed,

Corp even more venomous.

After over two days of this Hilary was actually starting to feel a little bored. The TV only seemed to broadcast inane game-shows and some soap opera where everyone screamed at everyone else. The magazines where exactly the sort of publication she despised, full of features about hair (usually braiding) and articles with titles like 'How to drive your man wild in bed!'

As it grew dark on the third day of her captivity Hilary's boredom was ended in the worst possible way - Umbatu turned up.

Hilary was sitting in the chair when she heard a jeep pull up outside.

Instinctively she knew. There was the sound of a key been turned and then the door was flung open. Umbatu, dressed in a gray suit, stood in the doorway for a moment, then strode in.

As he entered Hilary stood up. This day she'd chosen a dark red nightie with pink knickers. Her heart started beating faster. The rush of cool night air that had come in with Umbatu hardened her nipples. This worried her, the worry making her think them harder. She glanced in the mirror.

'God, my tits look fantastic! Think unsexy thoughts!'

Umbatu slammed the door behind him and stood looking at the blonde, white woman for a long minute. Hilary couldn't read his face. Was it a look of hate, contempt, desire, lust?

"Strip!" he barked.

Hilary swallowed hard. She'd given considerable thought to how she would react in this situation. It would be wonderful to knock Umbatu out, race outside, grab a vehicle and speed away to freedom. Wonderful but impossible. Umbatu had already shown that he was stronger than her and outside were too many armed men. Right now he wanted to fuck her, not kill her. If she resisted she would undoubtedly suffer physical harm.

She took a deep breath, pulled her nightie over her head and flung it aside. Avoiding meeting Umbatu's eye she stuck her thumbs in her panties and pushed them down. With her bare foot she moved them to one side. Now looking up Hilary was slightly surprised to note that Umbatu hadn't watched her strip but was himself undressing.

"On the bed!" he commanded.

Hilary sighed, but complied.

"Spread your legs!" was the next order.

Hilary lay back and moved her legs apart, exposing her sex to the watching black man.

As he advanced Hilary noticed that he was aroused - his stiffening member in his hand. She gritted her teeth, closed her eyes and awaited his assault.

"Ohhh!" she gasped as Umbatu stuck his forefinger into her most intimate hole, then grabbed her legs to drag her toward him.

"Ahhh!" swiftly followed as Umbatu's member entered her.

Hilary panted and felt sweat forming on her brow as cock worked it way deeper into her. She planted the palms of her hands down by her side and seized the mattress and tried to regulate her breathing.

Another sound invaded her ears. The sound of ... amusement.

Puzzled Hilary looked to her right and gasped as she saw several Negro heads watching the sex thru the bars of the window, Sarge amongst them.

They were sniggering, laughing and nodding in time to the thrusting she could now feel between her legs.

"Go, Boss!"

"Bone the bitch!"

Hilary wrenched her head round to the window on her left. More spectators, more laughter. She couldn't see it but at the other window behind her she felt certain was more of the same.

She looked up to see the grunting shape of the naked Umbatu getting down to the short strokes and let out a sob. It was bad enough been forced into sex, but having a dozen men watching her made things worse. She imagined most military camps showed films to entertain the troops. Here

'The Humping of Hilary Irvine' seemed the best show in town.

Umbatu came. Hilary felt his seed spraying inside her, felt him hump away to deposit as much of his load as he could. Thankfully he then withdrew, pulling some spunk out to dribble down out of her snatch.

Hilary felt a sigh of relief, rolled onto her side and instinctively pulled her legs up together.

If Umbatu had an audience there was no doubt that the abuse would continue...

Hilary steeled herself for the next command, sure that

Umbatu's sick mind would conjure up some act of depravity to force upon her, some new humiliation, some...

He'd gone.

He'd got dressed and walked out.

Confused Hilary looked toward the windows. The men were drifting away.

The rape - the entertainment - was over.


Umbatu didn't turn up the next day. The only abuse Hilary received was from the tongues of Sarge and Corp. Sarge loudly asserted that if he was Umbatu Hilary would have been banged all night long in every hole.

"In de morning yo wouldn't be able to walk!"

Hilary ignored him. But it was the comments of Corp that stung her.

"You're a real bitch, ain't ya? Strutting about the place, pretending you're a lady. Then when Umbatu comes you're flat on your back begging for his cock! Your friend with the tits at least put up a fight. Man, how she'd scream an' beg an' scream some more! But not you! You're a grade-one cock-tease bitch whore, like all your kind!"

Hilary shot him an angry look.

"There's shit in that bucket!" she yelled in the haughtiest tone she could muster, "Get rid of it!"

Corp made to respond but before he could Hilary yelled,

"Get on with it, you servant!"

Now she had stung him and he gave her a filthy look as he left, bucket in hand. Hilary forced herself to grin at him, a small victory in a war she appeared to be losing.


Umbatu returned two days later. The session went much the same as before. At his first word - "Strip!" - Hilary whipped off her panties, hopped onto the bed and spread herself for mounting. Umbatu duly obliged, without another word and with little preamble he stuck his cock inside and started thrusting. Trying to ignore the laughter of the watching audience Hilary gritted her teeth and waited for the inevitable sensation of his blast of cum. This soon arrived and Umbatu withdrew after a final thrust to shoot as much into his victim as possible.

Hilary watched him as he dressed. As he pulled on his jacket he shot her a look of utter contempt and left. The blonde lay back, shaking.

'Should I resist?' she thought, 'Am I betraying women everywhere by letting him take me?'

"Have I become his whore?" she said out loud.

After some time composing herself Hilary tried to understand Umbatu's motives. From her past, painful experience whenever she had found herself in the power of men they'd taken great delight in using and abusing her. According to various websites around the globe Hilary

Irvine was hot stuff - one of the most desirable women on the planet.

Yet Umbatu was content to shot his muck and depart.

Wham-Bam-Thank-You-M'am.

He didn't seem to derive much pleasure from what he did to her.

He hadn't even wanted his cock sucked!

It was all a puzzle.

"What's wrong with me!?" she said, slapping her forehead, "Am I complaining that I'm not getting raped hard enough?"


Two days later Umbatu's entrance seemed to portend a change. He wasn't alone. Sarge and Corp followed him in. Behind them came a woman.

Negro, aged about 30, wearing a red and yellow robe complete with a matching headdress that made her appear taller than even Umbatu.

'Jeez', thought Hilary as she stood up, 'Now what? A lesbo gang-bang?'

To her surprise Umbatu picked up the chair and parked it in front of the TV.

"Sit!" he barked.

Hilary consented.

Sarge was fiddling with the VCR. When he had finished he tossed a remote control to his boss who made himself comfortable on the bed.

Umbatu pressed a switch and the TV came to life.

In the center of the screen was a naked white woman. At first Hilary thought that there was a problem with the TV for the picture appeared to be upside-down. Then she realized that it was the woman who was upside-down - suspended by her ankles. It also appeared that her hands were tied behind her back. The suspended girl swayed slightly as she wriggled like a woman on a fishhook.

From the left of the screen a man approached the woman. He was black and naked. He stood before her, his crotch at the level of her head.

To Hilary's professional eye it seemed that no one was working the camera. It was obviously in a fixed position, probably a tripod.

The man seemed to be just standing in front of the suspended woman, but then Hilary peered closer...

"C'mon baby," he could heard whispering, "please yo master."

As he started moving his hips it was obvious what he was doing - fucking her face.

From the right another man entered view. He was also a naked black man, slightly smaller than the first. He was carrying a chair that he plonked down and climbed atop.

"Lets make this bitch twitch!" he laughed revealing a stick in his hand.

KRAK!

With no more a-do he slammed the stick into the back of the calves of the suspended white girl.

"Yes! Yes! You bitch!" screamed the man, manically laughing.

With a jolt Hilary recognized that hateful laughter. Moses. The man getting his dick sucked was also now obvious. Samuel Mbonga. Which meant that the poor girl screaming round the cock in her mouth could only be...

"I have no desire to watch this," Hilary announced turning away from the screen, "Its sick!"

"You should watch," responded Umbatu in a tone of surprising smoothness,

"You'll like the next bit."

He noticed that Hilary was fixing her gaze on the floor.

"Corp!" he said, switching the TV off, "If she doesn't watch grab her ears and make her!"

Corp moved up behind the seated blonde. She had no doubt he would enjoy any opportunity to inflict pain on her so Hilary turned to face the

TV. As she did so Umbatu made the picture re-appear.

The scene was as before. Suzy tied up upside-down with Samuel's cock in her mouth and the repeated lashings of Moses' stick on her legs. Samuel seized her head and worked it back and forth on his manhood.

KRAK!

Moses was relentless, foaming at the mouth with excitement. Hilary noticed that his cock was throbbing, making it look like a black snake swinging between his legs.

KRAK!

Suddenly there was extra light from off-screen on the left.

"Black Bastards!" screamed a man's voice.

BLAM-BLAM!

Moses was thrown back and out of screen-shot.

Samuel stopped and turned to face the left.

"Gennelmens! Pleas-!"

BLAM-BLAM!

This second fusillade hit Samuel in the belly, throwing him down to the floor, just out of sight of the camera. Blood had splattered onto

Suzy's tits and face. For a moment she swung there silently, then started emitting a whining noise.

"Check 'em!" said a voice in a strange accent.

A figure moved across the TV screen.

"Dead. Both of 'em!"

"You trigger-happy fuckers! Now they won't talk!"

That was van Eyck's voice!

Another figure moved into sight, so close to the camera he blocked most of the view out.

"Who is it?"

Van Eyck again.

"The brunette," came the reply.

"Well, that's just fucking great!"

CLUNK!

Something, probably a foot, had caught the camera and sent it falling.

Now it looked like the naked Suzy was horizontal, floating in mid-air.

CLUNK!

The picture was lost, replaced by static. Desperately Hilary stared at the screen, hoping for a picture to re-emerge. But nothing did.

As Corp went to switch off the telly Hilary's mind was whirring, trying to assimilate what she'd just seen, what it meant, what would likely happen next...

"I thought Mbonga was smart," Umbatu intoned, cutting across Hilary's trail of thought, "But he was dumb. He an' his friend fucked Suzy

Hughes all the day and all the night. I reckon the sound of all that fucking woke the neighbors. Neighbors told friends. Friends told their friends. Told your friends." He paused. "You saw what happens."

Indeed she had. Samuel was dead, with Moses copping it as a bonus. If

Hilary could ever find herself out of her current predicament she'd no longer fear been blackmailed into sharing her bed with that South

African snake.

"Suzy Hughes is back in London," continued Umbatu, "I had a word with someone in the Interior Ministry. They talked to your friends. Here in

Nigeria we don't like mercenaries. Especially white ones that go round shooting blacks. Your mercenaries have also left the country."

'Well, thank God Suzy is safe!' thought Hilary.

But her mind had moved on. If Suzy was in London she'd be free to talk. Free to tell the world that she'd been kidnapped by the Governor of Katgina. (If she wished to leave out the weeklong rape that'll be fine by Hilary) Suzy had also seen Hilary before Samuel whisked her away. By now the British government should know who abducted ace BBC reporter Hilary Irvine and have a fair idea where she was! British

Special Forces could be watching this building right now, waiting for the moment to storm in and free her!

Hilary was so excited she dared not turn to Umbatu, lest her thoughts be somehow transmuted into his mind. But surely he'd realized these things? Realized the game was up?

"Seize her!"

Before she could react Corp grabbed Hilary's arm. Sarge lumbered over to take hold of the other one. Together the two black soldiers pulled her to her feet and dragged her over to the bed.

'They're gonna kill me!' flashed thru Hilary's mind as she started to struggle.

"Ooooof!" she gasped as she was flung on the mattress.

As she struggled to get up her ankles were grabbed and, together with the hold on her wrists, Hilary found herself pinned down.

"Grrrrr! Gerrof! This is wrong!"

The African woman move into view. In the excitement of watching the video Hilary had forgotten all about her. In her hand the woman had a green bottle, which she now opened.

'Poison!' thought the desperate blonde, 'They're gonna poison me!"

The black woman moved closer, the bottle poised.

"You want her naked, Boss?" asked an excited Sarge.

"Wha?"

Now Umbatu clamped his hand on Hilary's chin and tried to wrench her mouth open. She resisted as best she could, gritting her teeth. But then Umbatu used his free hand to pinch her dainty nose, closing the nostrils. Pressure increased inside her heaving chest but still she resisted.

"Hurt her!" barked the African leader.

"Argghhhh!" screamed Hilary as her left nipple was viciously tweaked -

Corp enjoying the job.

"Again!"

"Argghh-ulp-cough!"

At her second scream of pain the African woman was ready and emptied a significant portion of the potion.

Hilary tried to cough the warm liquid up, but both Sarge and Corp pulled her legs apart and the sudden strain caused her to swallow.

Now sputtering Hilary found her free of any man-holds. Her head started spinning as she writhed on the bed. The room seemed to start spinning as well, several black faces looking down on her as she went faster and faster. Sweat was forming on her brow, her heartbeat increased, her breathing became panting.

'Uhhhh... , ' she thought, 'Not so bad. Dying isn't so bad... '

People were moving round her. A bright light shone in her face, into her eye.

"Awwww!" she protested.

Hilary didn't like that. It spoiled things. She had been starting to feel better, to feel happy.

The light pulled back.

That was better.

Happiness returned. Hilary felt the urge to giggle. Around her she could hear laughter. That was nice.

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