"No!" the Major insisted with a tone of authority that surprised even himself. "We will not go in now, monsieur Glasser!"
"But, Major, if we wait "
"If we wait for the hour past darkness, we will catch them at supper. We might, monsieur Glasser, even avoid the suicide that would be most surely our fate is we charged down there right now!"
Doug had to admit that the Major was making sense. Besides, he could already see wisps of smoke from several cooking fires filtering through the conical tops of the huts. "Okay, Major," he said. "We'll play it your way."
"Trees bien, monsieur Glasser! It will at least give us a fighting chance."
In truth, they had a very good chance of pulling it off. The Djambulu had never before been attacked in their own village, and it was that precedent which was responsible for the haphazard security around their camp. It was why they had caught the sentry off guard…and why, Doug hoped, the Djambulu hadn't placed any more than the four armed guards around whichever hut Penny happened to be in.
Doug borrowed the Major's field glasses just to make sure, focusing them on the entrance to the big hut.
"How does it look, monsieur Glasser?"
Doug managed a feeble smile. "I see only two guards…and they seem to be yukking it up pretty good with a couple of Djambulu girls."
"Good, they shall be easy enough to take out. What about the others?"
Doug made a quick, sweeping scan of the compound. "Not too many people on the street, Major…a few kids playing with a hula hoop and some old men drinking beer."
"You think maybe we should provide some, uh, diversion, monsieur "
"Yep, I think the flamethrower should do quite nicely; those front huts'll go up like matchsticks." M'Bonu's heart quieted somewhat. Maybe the crazy American's plan was just unlikely enough to work. "Are there any vehicles around, monsieur Glasser?"
Doug scanned the adjoining fields. "Just a couple of old rusty truck hulks out back in the peanut patch wait! There's something coming through the bush at the far end of the street!"
"What, monsieur Glasser?"
"I'm not sure. It looks like one of those French Land Rovers with the front end that looks like a Renault."
The worried Major swallowed dryly. This could mean trouble. Big trouble. "Who is driving it, monsieur Glasser?"
"I can't tell yet; it's too fuckin dark. No, wait. He fiddled with the control aperture on the binoculars. "Yes, there…now I can see them!"
"Who, monsieur Glasser?"
"It looks like a couple of Arabs!"
"Hello, my friend, Mahguib," the fat King said. "It's good to see you again!" He studied the short swarthy Arab for a long moment before emitting a silent shudder. In truth, he really liked the young American girl, Penny Glasser, and hoped that she would make the right decision when the time came. Still, if it did happen that he had to sell her, he was certain she would command a good price.
Since the French had pulled out of North Africa, the demand for young white girls to fill the Arab harems and brothels was virtually unlimited. They were bringing up to twenty-five hundred dollars each particularly the young fresh ones like Penny. Mahguib like the innocent ones and was willing to pay well for them. He would get his personal pound of flesh in Nouakchott, then ship them off to the interior for the Arab market. The Arab's perverted sadism should be no concern of his.
Mahguib, his expressionless eyes, as always, buried behind a pair of mirror-finish sunglasses, allowed his perpetual frown to relax somewhat, in what for him, passed as a smile. "Hello, my dear King," he rasped. "Is my package ready for delivery?"
The King eyed the short squat Arab critically, then let his gaze shift to the man's lumbering bodyguard, Gamal, who stood in stony silence just inside the entrance of the "palace". Both men were wearing western-style white suits that were badly creased from their long, exhausting trip through the jungle. Gamal, unlike his employer, did not bother with sunglasses to conceal his emotions; the huge Arab bodyguard exuded power even in his deceptive parade rest stance. "I think I have something that might interest you, my friend Mahguib," the King sighed finally. Then, "Ojike, bring our friend, Mahguib, a chair to sit on while we discuss business."
Mahguib's eyes lit up behind his glasses at the mention that the King had something "special" for him. He knew Jabavu well enough by now to know that the Djambulu King, unlike most who had something to sell him, did not exaggerate; if he was enthusiastic about something, it was worth listening to. "Forget the chair," he protested. "Let us discuss this little bird of which you speak!"
The King smiled teasingly. "Such enthusiasm, my friend Mahguib. Did you not enjoy the little French package I provided you with last month?"
"Ah, yes! I liked her very much, but a month with the same girl is too long. You know they tire so quickly when left in my care. A pity, too, just when I have them trained well to appreciate my little playful sessions, they seem to lose their fire."
"I suppose you have passed her on to your associates, as usual?"
"Yes, she went rather reluctantly, but I. am a businessman and cannot let my investments sit too long without making a return on them…I have some excellent movies made of her that will go well on the American market."
The King grinned broadly. Tell me, Mahguib…would you be interested in making an additional purchase?"
"Perhaps,.. my dear King. But, you know of course, that I do not carry such money with me when I travel in this damnable jungle."
"Yes, I understand, my friend. Why do you not look her over anyway? Perhaps on your next visit "
"Tell me about her then," the Arab brightened. "When I see so much enthusiasm in your eyes, I know it must be something special!"
"First, my friend, you know I provide only the best, yes?"
"Indeed, my dear King…but I have had problems with some of them," he added the last quickly, sensing that the bargaining was beginning. "You know, they are young and so unworldly, I must often do much training to prepare them for my clients."
"Mahguib, you desert pimp," the King laughed, "you know very well that is why you are in this business; so you can sample these tender packages before you pass them on to your friends."
"My dear King," the Arab objected, raising his hands, "it is not for I, Mahguib, that I do these things. I must do them to make certain my reputation as a businessman is respected. My clients are the wealthiest in Mauritania, and I dare not send them, packages that I myself have not trained to perfection."
"Yes, my friend, but do you not fear that you will train them until they lose their fire?"
Mahguib shuffled nervously before the King's throne. "There are ways of restoring lost fire," he said. "Your pitchi is one…the lash is another." He managed a feeble smile. "Let us stop this depressing bickering. You know I am a sincere man and an honest one. I am in a very competitive business and profits have not been good for the last several years. Do not take advantage of my helpless position, I implore you."
The King smiled sympathetically. These Arabs are all the same, he mused. They never grow away from the rug-sellers mentality. It didn't matter if they were dealing with one franc or a million, their approach was always the same business was bad and the price too high. But, because you are a friend, they will sacrifice and give you half the price you ask, even though it will drive them to bankruptcy!
The King knew enough then to ask exactly double the price he expected to get if they were to eventually arrive at that figure.
"Mahguib," the King said at last, "this package is American."
There was a moment's silence as the pudgy Arab slaver let the thought sink into his mind. "I would like to see this package," he said, wetting his lips.
Penny fretted nervously as she sat on the edge of the bed which had been moved to the adjoining room in anticipation of the Arab's arrival. She could hear every word of the conversation taking place between Mahguib and King Jabavu, and the very thought of them discussing her as if she were a side of beef caused her to sicken in fear. Dear God, she prayed silently, let me die…please, let me.
"On your feet, American pig! I have a buyer who wants to look you over!"
"What the hell are Arabs doing in Djambulu country, Major?"
M'Bonu shrugged noncommittally. "I cannot say for certain, monsieur Glasser, but my guess is that they are providing the Djambulu with the Russian made rifles and sub-machine guns that have been turning up lately."
Doug's face pinched in concern. The Major's suspicions sounded all too plausible. Worse, it could mean extra guns to contend with if there happened to be samples in the back of the truck. "What do you think, Major?" he queried.
The Major's thoughts were running along the same track. "I think it would be foolish to attack now," he said. "I think the Arabs will be leaving soon, or they wouldn't have parked their vehicle right in front of the door."
Doug swallowed tightly and studied the thin line of Senegalese troops fanned out belly down along the crest of the hill. Christ, it was a pathetic-looking outfit. He looked at his watch. It was six-fifteen and just now dark. "Let's give them till seven-thirty, eight at the latest," he suggested.
The Major nodded reluctantly. He was willing to wait all night if necessary. "Yes, Eight, I think, monsieur Glasser," he agreed.
It was settled.
They would wait.
Penny dropped the blue raffia robe from her trim well-tapered body on the command of this short dark Arab standing in front of her. His name, she learned, was Mahguib, and he controlled with an iron hand the sale of all the fresh young European women that passed through this part of West Africa. What she did not know was that his own government did not forbid his trade completely as they knew the tribal chieftans who now supported the government would take a dim view of their supply of white girls being cut off. They did require that he do it more discreetly than it had been done when the French were there. After all, this was one of the new socialist societies and must protect their world image as such in the United Nations and before the world press. One never knew when an Interpol agent might penetrate the mother organization and blow the whistle. If this happened, then the Socialist State needed a scape-goat and Mahguib knew very well who that scape-goat would be. A firing squad was the only acceptable penalty for disgracing the state and he did not have the slightest inclination for ending his term here on earth in that brutal manner. None of this was any help to Penny.
"Now turn for Mahguib, Penny," the King coaxed threateningly. "Show him what you have to offer his clients!"
Penny followed the African Monarch's commands as obediently as a well-trained show bitch. She had learned enough already to know that even the slightest resistance would not be tolerated. She looked down at the Arab slaver studying her. Instinctively, she knew she must please the sickening little man, and with a sudden unprompted movement of her hands she brought them up under her breasts, cupping them into twin rounded peaks of firm white flesh.
Mahguib choked back a gasp and his eyes widened behind his mirror-finish glasses to take in the milky-whiteness of Penny's succulent blue-veined, pink-nippled breasts. His penis began pulsing strongly, visibly beneath the trousers of his white suit. Then, Penny felt her stomach muscles tighten into a knot and she thought she would surely faint when she saw the Arab slaver lift his pudgy fingers to the tips of her breasts.
"Why don't you taste them, Mahguib?" the King suggested lewdly.
To her utter horror, Penny saw Mahguib's glistening baldhead dip, his mouth go for her nipple. Oh dear God, she sickened, there wasn't a thing she could do but stand there and hold her naked breasts while the obscene slaver slobbered and sucked her strawberry-size nipples into quivering, glistening stiffness!
"My Arab friend, this fresh young American girl is almost a virgin. She is worth at least ten thousand dollars. Come take a look at her ass."
The King led the squat Mauritanian behind the still stiffly standing girl. "Now, Penny, bend forward and let Mahguib explore the petals of your rose!"
The frightened young wife bent over, spreading her legs about two feet apart on the floor. She could hear a slight gasp of approval from behind her as the Arab bent to look up between her slightly spread legs like some perverted meat inspector.
"Now reach behind and open it for him! Let Mahguib feel how tight you are."
Obediently, Penny reached back with both hands and spread the lips of her vagina slowly and tantalizingly apart. The moist pink flesh of her tiny narrow slit became visible slowly as she gently parted the soft dark pubic hair covering the plane between her legs.
"Go ahead and touch her, you Moslem whoremonger," the fat King laughed. "She is not pork to soil your fingers!"
The swarthy slaver was actually trembling with excitement as he reached forward and slipped a single sausage-like finger into her moist pink sex, then slowly withdrew it, the viscid flesh of her interior clinging to it like a coat of paint on the outstroke. She was tight, very tight.
"Well, my friend, what do you think of my little American package?"
Beads of sweat popped out on Mahguib's upper lips as he reclaimed his thick middle finger. "I would like to try her," he rasped.
"Certainly, my friend," the King laughed lewdly, his jellyish paunch rolling with the effort. "Do whatever you wish…we will leave you alone with her." He turned toward the door. "Wait!"
The King stopped and turned to face Mahguib. "Yes, my friend?"
"Tell Gamal to wait outside the door…In case I need him."
The King winked his understanding. "As you wish, my friend, as you wish."
Penny stood silently for a long time after the King had left the room, shifting nervously by the side of the bed, waiting for the ugly Arab to make the next move. The pitchi had worn off completely and she was totally on her own and at the mercy of a filthy Mauritanian Arab who made his living peddling the flesh of helpless women. Oh, God in heaven, it was horrible…horrible!
The Arab circled her, then came to a full stop in front of her. She knew the time had come again, and the only escape was to get it over with as quickly and unpleasantly as possible.
She smiled.
"Do you speak Arabic?" Mahguib queried.
Penny didn't respond.
"French?" "Qui, monsieur, je parle francais."
"Tres bien. We understand each other, no?"
There was more to the Arab's question than the implications of speaking a common language. Penny nodded gravely. "Yes, monsieur…we understand each other."
Mahguib stood motionless for a long moment, drinking in the loveliness of Jabavu's latest catch. She was incredibly beautiful, and the soft, diffused lighting of the torches made her even more so. He couldn't take his eyes off her delicious, young body, still ripe and firm with youth, her skin soft and smooth, her delectable breasts firm and proud, standing like two ripe melons, her pink nipples still shiny and swollen with his saliva. No need for any padded bra in her case-there was more than enough without any man-made help, and they bulged tantalizingly before him, juicy soft mounds awaiting his touch. Her smooth, flat belly and firm body tapered gently to her tiny waist, then flared again perfectly in just-right hips. He gasped at the sight of the sparse pubic wedge at the junction of Penny's firm, smooth thighs. A fantastic piece, this, he mused. She will bring a good price at market.
Penny watched, expressionless, as he fumbled with the buttons on his jacket, then finally got it off, followed by his soiled white shirt, then his pants. He balanced precariously on one leg, trying futilely to get his foot out of his pants cuff. Only after bracing himself against the head of the bed was he able to manage it.
His stubby cock protruded slightly from the gaping opening in his undershorts. It couldn't have been more than two inches long, and it hung there foolishly, a wrinkled growth of sagging flesh.
Penny nearly laughed from nervous tension when she caught a glimpse of his penis, or lack of it. But again she knew it would be a mistake to make the Arab slaver mad.
Mahguib rubbed, his shriveled penis gently between his thumb and forefingers, stretching it out into the open, as if maybe that would make it grow longer. And then suddenly, as if awakened from a long sleep, it began to come to life. Slowly it swelled, not in quick virile jerks like a younger man's might have, but in a sluggish, steady swell, until it reached its full length not particularly long, but almost as big around as from base to tip. Penny stared at his hairy loins in dumfounded amazement, she'd seen it but she didn't believe it. His cock was a short, squat stump…like the man himself!
But the Arab, his nakedness all the more ridiculous with the silverish sunglasses masking half his swarthy, pockmarked face, only grinned. He knew what she was thinking; That his cock couldn't be much of a threat that his stubby little shaft couldn't begin to satisfy any woman. But he laughed to himself, thinking of where his throbbing prick would be in a few quick moments. He knew only too well that it had a lot of growing to do yet…that it might not be the biggest by any means, but that it had a long way to go yet.
Slowly, it continued to harden, throbbing painfully as the uncircumcised shaft grew longer and longer as he stepped out of his shorts and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Now, my little American beauty," he said, "you will suck my penis."
Penny chilled at the thought of that hideous shaft in her mouth, his lewdly seething sperm squirting into her throat. "No, please. Let's just do it the normal way," she said hopefully, backing cautiously away from the naked Arab. But he was quicker than she would have guessed one fast snap and her arm was tightly held in his strong grip. He pulled her roughly to her knees, kneeling at his feet.
"I said I want a sucking…and I mean just that!" The excitement was almost too much for him to bear, watching the unwilling American girl cringing before him like the frightened slave she was soon to become. He pulled her toward his naked crotch, her face just inches from the bulbous tip of his stiff little penis as he pulled back the taut foreskin and shoved the throbbing head toward her trembling lips.
Her pleas had become frightened whimperings. But Mahguib had come too far to be turned away now. His prick felt as if it would explode at any second, and he wasn't about to give up. He grabbed a handful of soft, thick hair and yanked her viciously forward, shoving his passion-swollen cock against her tightly clamped lips. Her face twisted grotesquely from her unspeakable humiliation, but she refused to cry out.
"Do not resist!" the Arab warned.
But Penny stubbornly refused, shaking her head as she tried to pull away. "You're hurting me!" she gasped. And that was the chance he'd been waiting for.
Mahguib shoved his short cock forward, cramming it between her open lips as she cried out in pain. "If you bite it," he spat, "I'll call Gamal in here to gouge out your blue eyes!"
Penny was beaten and she knew it. There was no future in further resistance to the desires of the vile man. Her only choice was to get it done as quickly as possible; struggling would only bring more pain, more degradation and debasement. She closed her lips over the pudgy little penis in her mouth, trying not to touch it with her tongue.
"You had better improve in a hurry!" he warned. "I am not a patient man!" He stabbed at the back of her mouth to show her he meant what he said.
His testicles expanded and puffed up like tennis balls as he watched Penny's pretty face rocking back and forth on the end of his cock. He could see her smooth, unblemished chest her twin, juicy mounds of ripe softness swaying as she sucked, like fleshy metronomes.
The swarthy Arab grabbed her bobbing head firmly between his two hands, holding her tightly, but not painfully this time, as he guided his prick smoothly between her taut, moist lips and down into her straining tonsils. Her tongue gave him chills all over, starting right at the base of his aching penis and running up his backbone until they spread throughout his body.
"You show promise," he gasped. "Keep it up!"
He started feeding it in a little further, shoving his loins forward harder with every deep thrust that sank deliciously into the warm, wet confines of Penny's throat.
Penny knew she had to keep her throat relaxed, and not to tighten up, or it would only be worse for her. Mahguib's stiff little penis slipped easily over the roughness of her tongue and into the delicate opening of her throat, and down into the relaxed passage, seemingly filling her whole mouth as it bur rowed itself in to the hilt. He pulled it back each time right to her ovaled lips, stretched tightly around the circumference of his hardened cock, leaving only the throbbing head still in her warm mouth, then he would lunge forward again, shoving the stiffened shaft far down into her throat.
When she swallowed, the muscles of Penny's throat caressed and massaged Mahguib's pulsing cock like a thousand tiny fingers, and he could feel the scalding pressure building in his swollen balls. Even now, there was an oozing drop of semen seeping from the bulb-like head, and Penny could taste its peculiar flavor on her tongue as she swirled it around his sausage-like penis.
It was so agonizingly delicious he could hardly bear it. The surging flood in his loins was bursting to get out, and he knew he could contain it only a few minutes longer. He pulled his thick shaft from her mouth, holding it just at her wet, lipstick rimmed lips, rubbing against the softness of her tongue, another tiny drop of semen seeping from the swollen tip.
The Arab savored the agonizing delicacy of the American girl's probing tongue exploring the throbbing tip of his aching penis, poking at the tiny opening, sending shivers of delight throughout his body. But in a moment he could stand it no longer, and his disproportionately thick shaft slid again between her moist, warm lips and into her narrow throat, her cheeks hollowing to accommodate him as his hairy loins ground wetly against her face, brushing her nose and chin with his wiry pubic hair.
"How do you like sucking the cock of an Arab?" he teased lewdly. "Is it better than your American Jews?"
Penny tried to answer, but Mahguib's greasy flesh filled her throat, and it was nearly impossible just to breathe. He was pumping faster and faster into her mouth, ramming his stiff little penis into her warm, wet lips with long, hard thrusts that bored down her ravaged throat passage, choking and gagging her with every thrilling lunge.
Just a few more deep thrusts and it would all be over his balls would pump their obscene load into her voraciously sucking face and nothing she could do would stop it…nothing!
Mahguib slowed his deep, savage thrusts still just as deep in her soft oral passage, but slower, so he could make it last as long as possible. The sheer ecstasy of his burning load spurting from his achingly hard cock into her mouth was something he wanted to long remember. He wanted her to gulp down every drop of his load to suck his thick cock until nothing remained in his balls. He leaned his head back, waiting.. waiting…
The burning, liquid flooded out of his swollen balls and along the length of his hard shaft like lava from a volcano, and exploded against the back of her throat as he gave one last lunge. "Suck it! Suck it dry, slave!" he bellowed.
Penny gulped it down greedily in big, gasping swallows. Her fingers squeezed the Arab's emptying balls, summoning every precious drop from his loins, his wet, fleshy cock shoved as far as it would go down her hungry, throat.
She couldn't control herself the savage lust that dwelled deep within the darkest recesses of her soul had reared its ugly head. With every gulping mouthful, she hated herself more and more, but there was no turning back. She wanted every warm ounce of his sperm, and she sucked voraciously until there was nothing left, until his balls emptied the last musky squirt into her quivering stomach.
Then, as quickly as it had all begun, the swarthy Arab slaver was withdrawing his shriveling sticky flesh from the slippery confines of Penny's mouth. Is he done with me? she hoped desperately. Will he go away and leave me alone? Her hopes died in her throat as Mahguib opened his mouth to speak.
"You show some promise," he leered, "but…but I think perhaps a little too much spirit for my tastes…and those of my many clients." He paused a minute or two to wipe himself clean on her silken hair. "With a bit of training in the art of respect for your superiors, most particularly I think you will come to fetch a fine price." Abruptly, he let his voice trail off, then wandered toward the door leading to the main room and whispered something to his awaiting bodyguard.
Penny's pounding heart almost stopped as she saw the Arab's vicious-looking bodyguard peering over his shoulder at her nakedness while his master spoke. Then, it lodged in her throat as she saw him turn on heels and follow Mahguib into the room.
"This is my dear friend, Gamal," explained Mahguib. "He is going to whip your pretty little ass with his belt."
Penny's breathing stopped altogether as the slaver's words registered in her consciousness. "B-But why?" she gasped finally, drawing her knees together to protect her vulnerability. "Oh, God…what have I done?"
Mahguib smiled sadistically. Already his short fat penis was beginning to thicken again. "What have you done, my dear? Nothing. Absolutely nothing."
"Then why-"
"Because it gives me an erection, my dear…During the course of your bondage, you will undoubtedly come under the tutelage of many who share this little peculiarity of mine…who knows, my pretty? You may even come to like it!"
Suddenly, the entire torturous experience welled up in Penny's throat. Uncontrollably, she began to scream.
The anger rose in Mahguib. He didn't have to stand for such adolescent nonsense. "Silence the bitch, Gamal!" he ordered.
In two giant strides, the grotesquely enormous bodyguard closed the gap between himself and the American girl. He hit Penny across the face, hard. And, before she could catch her breath again, his hand was at her throat, throttling her, his dirty hand covering her mouth, blocking any possibility of further screaming.
Penny's eyes bulged and she shuddered in fright and revulsion. She struggled, but Gamal shoved her easily across the room, his body close to hers. Her stomach was doing nauseous flips and she thought she would vomit as he forced her to the bed.
"Oh, God…NooMff!" she gasped within the cup of his mammoth hand. "Let me GoMfff!"
She fought the rough grip of the monster who was forcing her onto the bed. She could see his bulging firey eyes devouring her naked body, taking in her voluptuous loins and thighs, the startling bulge of her breasts now jutting proudly forward as she struggled. Oh, God! she panicked, they're both insane.