She was daydreaming as she looked out of the office window overlooking the high street in Canterbury. All those people bustling about yet few of them looked happy she thought. She had thought she had the dream job too as Personal Assistant to a busy advertising executive but the financial collapse had dramatically reduced advertising business and for the last few weeks she had not been busy and had begun wondering just how long her boss, Mark Hughes, would be able to keep her on.

If she lost her job she might have to join the miserable crowds commuting into London.

That was a terrible thought.

In the next room she heard her boss slam down the phone then whoop loudly. Startled she turned to his room just as the buzzer on her desk alerted her that she was needed. Grabbing pen and paper she rushed into his room.

"Petra! Petra get your ass in here."

She ignored his language as she stood in the doorway.

Her boss was about to say something but then stopped. She thought he was gathering his thoughts but instead he was drinking in the sight of her. He still had not quite recovered from Petra changing from a brunette to a blonde overnight. The change had been quite remarkable.

Petra was a shapely woman with a full bust, pretty face and long blond hair and he appreciated her looks. He pulled his thoughts together.

"Petra I want you to buy two tickets to Harare as soon as possible."

Petra looked at her boss, and he must have noticed her bemusement.

"Work! Petra we have a new commission! What's more there is real potential for a big long term commission."

"Ok, OK," she smiled. "That's good news. Two tickets coming up. For you and Mrs Hughes?"

Mark brought his hand up to his head and scratched his head.

"Hell no," he said. "Martha won't be able to come she had her charity fundraiser coming up next week and he knew she would blow a gasket if he told her to cancel it."

"Hmm ... Ok Petra pack your bags your coming with me!"

"Me?"

"Yes, those Africans are really hot on the social niceties I will need you with me, on my arm, we can't risk anything that might lose us this commission. Find a decent hotel and book a room."

"Two rooms," Petra quipped back.

Mark laughed.

"Ok. Two rooms. You can't blame a man for trying."

Three days later Petra was sitting on a flight to Harare alone. Mark was travelling business class and at short notice Petra had to take a seat in economy. She had not thought too much about it when she booked the seats, but she sat between two leering black men. Economy seemed nearly full of black men with only a few white people on the flight.

Her full bust and blonde hair seemed to fascinate the two men and the short denim skirt she had worn without thinking a great deal about it had been a mistake. She had barely sat down before the black men on either side of her had casually dropped their hands onto her bare thighs.

The wrestling match had been going on for an hour as she sought to keep their hands off her. They had been polite and chatty and cheerful, with big wide grins full of white teeth that seemed that much more marked in their black faces.

No matter what she said, no matter what they promised her, their hands just kept creeping back. She was tempted to stop resisting but suspected that having won the battle of her legs these men would move on to touching other parts of her body.

She was not sure she wanted to resist. One part of her was tempted to just let them fondle her but the plane was full of people and what might happen if she let her guard down. If only the plane was not so crowded!

Across the aisle a white woman stood up and made her way to the back of the plane. At least she got the chance to sit with her husband. The Africans had restrained themselves to lewd suggestions that had soon died away as people settled down for the flight.

As a lone white woman sitting alone on a flight to Africa the men seemed to think she was some sort of female sex tourist and were badgering her non-stop for the details of where she was staying in Harare.

They were booked into the Rainbow Hotel, which she understood was a former Sheraton. She was not sure what to expect as she had heard some bizarre tales about Zimbabwe following its economic collapse.

She again brushed the men's hand aside and rose to her feet. Perhaps she could get the stewardess to find her another seat but the plane seemed rather crowded.

She headed up the plane towards where she thought the stewardesses were hanging out, looking around as she did for a possible spare seat. There were not many and most would involve sitting next to other black men. What would those men think if she moved to sit beside them?

She pushed aside a curtain and came face to face with a black air stewardess.

"Do you think you could find me a seat next to another woman?"

The stewardess looked harassed as she struggled loading a tray with meals. She looked up at Petra.

"Why do you want to sit next to a woman? Are you a lesbian?"

Petra reeled back in shock.

The stewardess laughed good-naturedly.

"Sorry lady but this flight is full. I can find you another seat but your new seat partners are not likely to be different to the ones you have at the moment."

She looked up sympathetically for a moment and then continued loading the meals, before glancing up again at Petra.

"Look lady we will be serving the meals shortly which will distract them, things usually settle down then. If you need a break you can sit for a while in the stewardess area where there are some beds, but we will need them ourselves later."

She nodded further up the plane. Petra made her way forward, pushing aside a curtain she was confronted by four feet, two white, and two black. It took her only seconds to realise they belonged to two fiercely coupling people. Their frantic grunts and vigorous movement defied the small space of the stewardess' bunk.

Petra stepped back closing the curtain.

Was everyone on this plane sex mad?

She headed back down the plane and decided to make a visit to the toilets to freshen up before the meal arrived. At the back of the plane she found a queue of black men waiting. All their eyes turned to her. She was not used to being around so many black people.

One of the doors opened and an African came out and ambled up the plane. She waited but no one made to enter the cubicle. Then to her surprise the men waved to her and indicated she should enter the cubicle. She looked from man to man and all seemed quite happy to let her 'jump the queue.

Slightly surprised she nodded her appreciation and darted into the cubicle. A hand grasped and squeezed her bottom as she passed the, making her jump. The men just laughed. She turned in the cubicle to shut the door to find that one of the Africans was following her in. She raised her hand up against his chest and firmly pushed him out of the cubicle. To her surprise the African man backed out grinning and shrugging but making no protest as she ushered him out of the small space.

She locked the door and turned and sat. For a brief moment she some space of her own and sighed. She could hardly spend the whole flight sitting in the toilet cubicle! It was surprisingly clean.

She noticed the wall to her right seemed to shift and move and felt a moment of alarm and stood up quickly and looked at the wall. She heard a grunt and a moan and her eyes widened for a moment. More grunts and moans followed.

'Oh god', she thought and raised a hand to her mouth. She leaned forward a moment and listened.

"Please, no, please, my husband."

"Shush lady you know you want this."

"But..."

"Shush."

More grunts and moans followed.

Petra sat back down again, she pulled her skirt and pushed down her knickers and her hand crept between her legs stroking her private parts.

The next few minutes seem to last forever.

Eventually there was only silence. She heard the flush from the next cubicle and then the cubicle door opened. She sat back for a moment then she heard a different male voice from the next cubicle again.

"But I have to get back to my husband."

"Your husband is not going anywhere before the plane lands, besides he is asleep."

"But..."

"Shush woman, just hold yourself like that."

Petra heard a long male sigh from the adjacent cubicle, followed by a subdued feminine moan.

It was with a certain relief that Petra stepped out of the plane. Then the hot African air swept over her, and the hot sun seemed to strike her a physical blow and she stepped back a moment. The crowds behind her pressed forward and she saw her boss waiting by the terminal and stepped forward into the blistering heat of an African noon.

Mark waved her into the terminal but the heat hardly dropped. It was another hour before they emerged into the teeming bustle of the airport entrance with both of them being harassed by taxi drivers and porters. It was a struggle to get past them, but her boss assured her they were to be met and was looking for his contact.

It was only on the sunlit steps of the terminal that Mark was approached by the booming voice of a hearty well-built middle aged African.

"Mr Hughes is that you. Good to meet you, good of you to come all this way at such short notice. Is this your wife, she's very pretty! You lucky man! Joshua Faria here."

The African man stepped forward offering his hand, which Mark took and shook vigorously.

Mark coughed turning to Petra and smiling.

"This is my PA Petra Johnson."

The African stepped forward and Petra reached forward to shake his hands. To her surprise he took her hand and raised it his lips French style. Surprised Petra looked him in the eye and saw the sparkling humour in his eyes.

She smiled.

"Charming. Hah, here comes the Junior Minister for Tourism but don't ever refer to him as the Junior Minister, or you will have no chance at winning the commission."

Mark blanched for a moment then gathered his thoughts. He had not prepared for meeting the Minister so soon.

"Mr Kafuso. This is Mr Hughes from England to come to help revive our country's safari industry."

"Minister." Mark nodded offering his hand. The African gripped his hand firmly and shook it. The man's eyes however had moved past Mark and were focussed on Petra.

"This must be your wife, she is lovely! I'm glad you had the foresight to bring her out for me!"

Mark raised his eyebrows at Joshua and turned to Petra.

"Your excellency," he wondered if that was the appropriate way to address an African government minister, but the man was still smiling. "May I introduce you to my Personal Assistant Petra Johnson, unfortunately my wife could not travel at short notice."

The African grinned and nudged Joshua and chuckled.

He took her hand but then pulled her close and looked her in the eye. Petra stared back, then blushed and lowered her gaze. The African chuckled.

"She will do just fine."

Petra looked back and saw his intent in his eyes and felt a tingle in her spine.

"Mr Hughes. We have some cars to take us into the city, if you will come with me."

Mark turned to Petra.

"Come along Petra we will soon be out of this heat."

Joshua glanced at the Minister and stepped forward.

"I'm afraid there is only room for you in my car. I am sure the Minister will be happy to take Petra into the city.

Mark looked between the two men then back to Petra concerned for a moment, but Mr Faria was ushering him forward and men who seemed to be the Minister's bodyguard were encircling the Minister and Petra forming a shield as the Minister led Petra to his car.

Inside Joshua's smart air conditioned limousine was refreshingly cool. He looked behind to see Petra slipping into the Minister's car then glanced across the limousine and back to Joshua.

"There would have been room for Petra." Mark commented.

His African contact smiled at him.

Inside the Minister's car Petra relaxed in the luxury of cool air, cream coloured leather seats and leaned back in the soft seat. Her bags had been taken from her and were being bundled into the boot of the car. The door across from her opened and the Minister slipped into the car beside her.

He grinned and relaxed in the back of the car as a security guard slipped into the front seat next to the driver.

"I understand you are staying at the Rainbow Hotel."

Petra nodded to him.

"We will soon have you there it is not far. Has Mr Hughes made arrangements for dinner tonight?"

Petra was not sure and that must have shown on her face.

The Minister leaned over and his hand squeezed her bare thigh.

"Well we must make sure you and Mark are booked into a quality restaurant so you can see the best of this country while you are here."

As he sat back his hand slid higher on her thigh.

Petra stared at the hand. It squeezed her thigh higher up now. If she had not had the experience on the plane she might have instinctively slapped his face, but she knew the company needed the new commission. She did nothing.

Beside her the African grinned.

He watched the pretty lady's face as his fingers started to softly stroke, and smiled as her lips parted and eyes widened.

Mark was relieved when he arrived at the hotel to find the Minister's car coming to rest behind Joshua's limousine. Petra looked flustered and pulled her skirt as far as she could down her thighs as she left the Minister's car.

"We will join you with a coffee after you register and make arrangements for the meeting tomorrow."

Mark nodded at Joshua, acknowledging his words.

The Minister was hovering behind Petra as her luggage was removed from his boot, and Mark watched with alarm as the Minister's large black hand descended on Petra's behind and give a little squeeze. He watched Petra edge away but the African hand remained on her bottom caressing.

He looked at Joshua who just grinned back to him.

"She's nice. The Minister will like her."

"Well I'm not sure how much she will stand for being touched like that. There could be trouble back home if she claims harassment."

"You had better make sure she is co-operative and if she does not 'put out' as you say then I doubt any amount of bargaining will win you the commission."

Mark looked alarmed but Joshua just laughed.

"Don't look so alarmed she has probably already wet her knickers from his touching her."

Mark would have been shocked if he had known how accurate Joshua's words were. He stepped forward taking Petra's arm.

"The Minister and Mr Faria are going to join me for coffee Petra. Can you check us in and get the luggage up to our rooms. Then come and join us."

Petra looked at him, and leaned over to whisper in his ear.

"I won't be coming down until they have left! Mark you must promise not to leave me alone with him. He's older than my father for goodness sake."

Mark nodded reassuringly while his mind wrestled with Joshua's words that the Minister would be expecting to bed Petra and winning the job might depend on it.

"It'll all work out Ok we are only here for a few days."

The next day they headed for the Ministry of Tourism. Petra was more relaxed. The hotel had been remarkably comfortable and the staff attentive. The restaurant had been of high quality and the hotel had many white guests, and the hotel bar had been lively and buzzing with cheerful conversation. The Africans in the hotel had been well dressed and appeared wealthy, and she had been flattered at the number of complimentary cocktails presented to her. She had stayed close to her boss, hoping that the Africans present would assume he was her husband but that did not seem to deter them at all.

She had seen a few attractive white women on the arms of African men. All had seemed cheerful and happy in the company of the Africans, and it had made her wonder about the stories she had heard of black men. She found herself wondering if she could take a big cock since her own private parts did not seem designed to take large cocks, as she had found out back in England.

She shook her head to clear it off such thoughts. The watching Africans liked the way her long blond hair flowed around her head, and seemed to edge forward. The long flight had taken its toll and Mark and Petra had made an early night of it.

Petra took in the streets of Harare as they drove by. The hotel was near the city centre and the traffic was busy but not particularly heavy. The streets were bustling and it really stood out to her that nearly everyone walking the streets were black, which was something quite new for her.

She also noticed the number of uniformed men on the street, often equipped with helmets and batons who looked very fierce, while at some junctions there were men with what looked like machine pistols. She wondered just how safe this country would be without such a high level of security in the city.

The taxi they had booked soon pulled up at a relatively nondescript building four stories high, with brown plastered walls. Only the armed guards outside indicated the building housed anything of importance.

Going inside they found it was a subsidiary office of the Ministry of Tourism and led up to the meeting room. The next few hours kept Petra busy as she made notes of the discussions, occasionally researched something on the internet and passed notes to her boss on items she had looked up.

Mainly the Africans talked and her boss listened, and Petra made notes.

Then it was the turn of her boss and with the use of computerised links he gave them a demonstration of his technical wizardry and then an exposition how he believed his firm could aid the Ministry.

It was all pretty routine to Petra, though she realised the importance of winning the contract she had little direct involvement in the presentation and discussions.

The meeting was brought to an abrupt close when the Junior Minister strode into the room. He asked if all was going well and Petra was surprised at the deferential and eager way the Africans responded to his presence.

"Right, enough of that! I am going to take Petra to lunch at the Harare Women's Club. We mustn't be late. Joshua, take Mr Hughes out to Lake Chivero and show him around the park. I have arranged for a barbecue to be laid on for you all."

Petra was a bit put out by this and looked urgently at her boss. She had told him she did not want to be left alone with this man. To her consternation Mark just shrugged and nodded. She edged closer to him and whispered quietly to him her concerns at being alone with Mr Kafuso.

"Oh I am sure it will be all right Petra. It sounds safe enough ... the Harare Women's Club not the sort of place he would take you to if he was up to no good. For goodness sake Petra remember we need this contract and be nice to him!"

The big African grinned as he watched the white businessman urge his lovely assistant to join him for lunch.

Petra hung on for a moment to her boss's arm before releasing it and stepping across to take the offered arm of the African Minister. His large black hand reached over to clap hers in his hand as he escorted her through the office. Many of the African staff turned to look and grinned that their notorious Minister led a new pretty white woman through their office.

Petra was feeling slightly intimidated by this large African man who was clearly used to getting his own way. She was disappointed her boss had not taken more effort to keep her away from him as she had asked, but now she had no alternative but to smile and look happy. The Harare Women's Club sounded harmless enough after all.

The Minister urged her out into the street where his car was waiting. She noticed there were a couple of armed motorcycle outriders and could not help herself from being impressed as the small cavalcade pulled off with sirens wailing.

She sat back in the cool interior of the limousine was relieved when the Minister sat beside her and kept his hands to himself, though an inner tickling of her emotions felt disappointed.

The car with the outrider's sirens wailing swept through the inner city streets then out into a wider tree lined avenue. She noticed how the Africans in the street stopped and stared as they passed, and how they breezed through red lights with no complaining honks of horns from other drivers.

She could get used to travelling like this she decided.

She turned to glance at the Minister and with a start realising he was staring at her, or at least ogling her large full breasts. She blushed and glanced quickly away and out of the vehicle window and stirred in her seat. She found her emotions confusing. She liked men looking at her but was not sure if she was in control of this situation.

She suspected if the Minister tried anything his driver and security guard would look on but do nothing to stop him doing whatever he wanted. She felt herself dampen between her thighs and large nipples tingled. She cursed her wicked body and looked again at the Minister and found his eyes looking into hers.

"I see you have no ring on your finger. Are you not married?"

Petra shook her head she noticed his eyes were deep and dark.

"Will your boyfriend be missing you? I would have thought few men would be willing to part with your company for a few days. You do have a boyfriends don't you?"

"Sort of."

She was discomforted by the Minister's knowing smile at her response.

He reached forward and patted her knee, giving it a light squeeze, before withdrawing his hand.

"Don't worry dear we will make sure you will not be short of masculine company while you are visiting. You will find black men in Africa are real men who know how to look after lovely creatures like yourself."

Petra blushed again and looked away not trusting herself to speak. 'Who did he think he was? Or she was? To assume she needed masculine company indeed!' She found however that her senses seemed to have heightened and the strong musky scent of the Minister was strangely disturbing.

The vehicle made another turn and she was passing a long high yellow painted wall, which merged into a building with high casement windows.

"It used to be a nunnery."

The Minister's words broke through her thoughts, and she turned to see him nodding to the building she had been looking at.

"But now it is home to the Harare Women's Club."

Petra looked at it more closely, a former nunnery, perhaps she nothing to worry about at all.

The car came to a halt and the security guard rushed to open the door for her, while the driver opened the Minister's door. They were outside a recessed secluded entrance that was tucked back into the wall. She had not noticed it as they had approached down the street.

As she watched another car drew up and out jumped a white woman, while two teenage girls tumbled out of the back of the car chattering excitedly. The two girls looked about fourteen and sixteen years old. They all headed into the Club and Petra felt some of her anxiety slip away at this perfectly normal sight, concluding that there was no reason to be suspicious of the Minister's invitation to lunch after all.

The Minister took her arm.

"I will need to have you signed in as a guest. Visitors can only visit twice before joining the Club. Friday lunchtimes are special as that is when members go through a ritual that all new members have to go through."

Petra looked at him.

"It sounds like a type of 'hazing.'"

She looked up at the Minister and saw him grin back.

"A bit like that but everyone enjoys themselves."

They reached the door. Petra was surprised when they stepped through and closed behind them with a whispering seal, and she realised the door was of heavy steel and had closed with an airtight gasp.

Her eyes widened.

"The Club is sound proof within the main building as well."

Petra looked at him with some alarm. What sort of club had steel doors and was sound proofed?

"Just stay close to me and you will be perfectly OK, best not to go wandering off exploring though. Now shall we go and have lunch I have a table reserved for us."

The Minister led Petra down a long wood panelled corridor in which a number of dark leather sofas were placed. Sitting on the sofa's chatting were a number of couples. Petra realised that all the couples were black men with white women. She was surprised at that. There were no white women sitting without male companions attentive on them. This was quite different than anything she had seen in her quiet town just South of London. There did not seem to be any white men in the place, though many of the women had rings on their wedding finger.

The Minister led her into a large restaurant room, which seemed like an old school hall. There was even a raised stage at one of the hall which was curtained off. Around the hall were alcoves with leather covered benches in a U-shaped table set for lunch, while in the centre of the room were circular tables that houses up to eight places. There were no small tables for smaller groups of people.

The Minister led her to a table near the front that had apparently been reserved for him. As Petra sat she saw that they had dining companions and looked around the table.

"Petra allow me to introduce you to our dining companions." For a moment Petra felt as though everything was normal, or almost normal as she looked across the table. Every African sitting at the table was accompanied by a white woman, then she corrected herself some of where just girls such as the young girl sitting to her left.

She was radiant and pretty with long flowing blond hair with an animated excited air about her. She looked quite young but seemed quite confident and comfortable in her surroundings.

"Petra, that's Hayley on your left. Her father works for Ngorro who sits on her other side."

The African on the far side was large. Petra corrected herself, the man was grossly overweight with pig like eyes set in a bullet like bald head. The man extended his hand, it was large and podgy. Petra took his hand intending a brief shake but he grasped her hand firmly and grinned at her.

"Are those real?" He asked, nodding to her breasts, Petra flushed in embarrassment and sought to pull her hand away but the pudgy hand was deceptively strong and he held her in place as he looked her over in a way that made her skin crawl but also sent strange tingling through her body. His eyes hungrily looked at her breasts with no attempt at circumspection. He released her hand and turned to the girl.

"Normally I prefer ripe young apple breasts like Hayley here."

Then in front of everyone he reached down and grasped one of the girl's breasts. Petra was shocked to see the older, overweight African squeeze and fondle the girl's pert breast. He looked back at Petra, curious to see if he had shocked her.

"But a man needs a change now and then and you seem to have a pair that will make a nice handful!" He chuckled, a sound that sent a shiver through her.

"And this is Jacky. Hayley's older sister."

Petra looked at the older girl, who looked about seventeen years old. She did not seem at all disturbed at the way Ngorro was fondling her younger sister's breast.

"Besides Jacky is Oba Abere. He is Vice President of African Conglomerate Trading, and on his left is the very pretty Vicky. She is one of Joseph's favourite whores."

Petra wondered if he was teasing but as she looked into the Jacky'e eyes she realised it was true. Instead of being shocked she found the idea both wicked and exciting.

"That's Joseph next to Vicky, looks harmless enough but a real terror of a man."

Petra looked at Joseph who was the youngest man at the table and the only man not overweight. Indeed he looked quite fit. She looked into his eyes then quickly looked away from the hardness she saw in them.

"Joseph here is our whoremaster. If you ever get tired of working for Mr Hughes Joseph here can give you a job. A pretty white woman like you can make a lot of money in Harare and get as much cock as want."

Petra flushed at such crude words. The thought however of being a whore was darkly erotic, and she found the idea incredibly arousing.

At that point the first course arrived and everyone set to with gusto.

Beer was served rather than coffee, though the women were allowed wine, and attention seemed to have switched to the stage.

Petra looked up as the curtain switched aside and cheers erupted across the room.

An African strode forward in his hand he held a leash which was attached to a leather band around a pretty white woman's neck. More cheers erupted as the African men realised that this lunchtime's show featured a particularly pretty white woman.

"Ladies and Gentleman, Rogues and Scoundrels, Whores and Rakehells I bid you all welcome and it is my privilege to introduce you all to the latest lady to seek membership of our illustrious Club," he raised his arm..."I give you Mrs..." more cheers erupted as the audience realised the white woman was a married white woman. "Mrs Kristina Higgins."