2 comments/ 75987 views/ 4 favorites Polly's African Adventures By: sarahloveitt This is a sequel to The Trials of Pauline. Whilst searching for her father in the African jungle, Polly and her Eurasian friend, Marina, are subjected to a succession of bizarre punishments and sexual degradation - all of which she finds exhilarating and fulfilling. Those people who do not wish to read about the humiliation of beautiful women should avoid these stories. * Chapter One When Polly came to, she sensed that she was in great danger. She was alone in a small clearing of the dark forest. The hot sunshine rarely penetrated the tree canopy to reach the deep undergrowth of the massive tall trees reaching up, competing for the light and air. The damp heat was exhausting, suffocating for humans. All around was the seemingly impenetrable tangle of creepers, bushes and tall grasses. Polly was tied to one of the trees. Her arms were twisted round the trunk behind her, secured at the wrists with tough creepers. Her blouse was torn almost to shreds round her shoulders. Firm, full breasts, nipples thrusting upwards to the overhead canopy. Her elegant legs, now smeared with dirt and slime, were similarly bent round the tree, with ankles fastened together by more creepers. The tree grew at an angle so that her body was inclined backwards, her thighs forced wide open as her legs wrapped round the thick trunk. Her flimsy pants had become ripped off long since with the lashing, revealing her bruised thighs. Polly's sweet vulva, its puffed lips pushing their way out of the hidden orifice, showed signs of the recent ravishing it had endured. Sperm stained her inner thighs, mingling with her own secretions. She felt humiliated and lonely; wanting the strong arms of her master encircling her frailty; to curl up on his naked lap, protected from harm. Her memory suddenly flooded back! She had tripped and fallen in the thicket. The fall had knocked her unconscious. Kaldo, their guide and porter, had taken her prisoner after she and her companions had been ambushed in the dense forest, beaten and humiliated by the pygmies. Kaldo had returned to the clearing, after going on ahead to explore the territory, where he found Polly, with her travelling companions, Dwindali, the porters and Marina, bound and gagged. All had been beaten. Polly and the Eurasian girl, Marina, had been ravished by the pigmies. The two women were tied, spread-eagled, between young saplings. Polly's blouse had got torn during the attack, her naked groin now showing the puffed genitals sheltering in downy blonde curls, tousled and wet, the occasional drip of sperm falling to the forest floor. The angry pink weals and blue bruises were evidence of the beating she had endured. At the sight of Kaldo, there was relief in the faces of the three prisoners. He would release them and they could complete their journey to the village. But the sight of the pale, slender body, wrists and ankles tied to the trees, hanging helpless in front of him, inflamed the native's lust. Hunger for this frail, beautiful white woman welled up in Kaldo. He had controlled his desire for her so far, because he feared the anger and superiority of Dwindali. But Polly's protector was now bound and gagged. Helpless to interfere. This was his chance. Nothing stood in his way. Polly watched with growing anxiety as Kaldo's eyes turned sinister. Licking his lips, he slowly unclipped the coiled whip from his waist-belt. His lips broke into a cruel smile. Realising his intentions, Polly became alarmed. With fear in her wide-open eyes, she shook her head wildly. The heat of her previous beating still stirred in her loins; her flesh bruised and swollen. But the gag prevented her from screaming out. Her companions looked on, powerless to intervene. Polly yanked at the fastenings round her wrists and ankles. The saplings shook, their branches swaying wildly. But to no avail. The black giant, with muscular arms and shoulders bulging, his chest shining with perspiration, approached her slowly. Eyes roaming over her inclined body, the native eased his belt round his waist to displace the loin cloth from its frontal position. Polly stared hypnotically at the enormous half-filled penis, now swinging lazily from its nest of coarse, black hair encompassing his muscular belly. The phallus was menacing. Kaldo came up to her, leering into her face. His foul breath and strong pungent sweat offended her nose. He stared at her young breasts, firm and rounded, the nipples engorged. Coarse hands stroked the contours. A stab of pain jolted through Polly as he suddenly pinched each nipple between thumb and middle finger, twisting them hard one after the other. With a short laugh, he stepped back a few paces, lifting his whip arm, ready to strike. Polly stiffened in readiness for the blow. Her eyes filled with a mixture of excitement and dread as they followed the whip arm raised high. Suddenly, everything seemed to switch to slow motion. A swish! Polly watched the whip coil through the air towards her. The sting came with a sickening crack! It lashed round her plump buttocks, biting into the already swollen flesh. The end of the leather thong curled round her groin flicking painfully, raising a new red weal. Her body jolted with pain, her breasts bounced wildly. Polly cried out into her gag, eyes screwed up in pain. The heat stabbed into her loins. The magnificent frame of her executioner twisted away from her, the muscles in his arm taught with effort, preparing for a second lash. A brutal smile split his black face, eyes gleaming with cruel delight. Polly opened her eyes. His monstrous phallus jerked larger, swaying obscenely before him. After a pause for his cruel eyes to concentrate on the target, he swung his arm. The whip curled through the air again. It lashed round her buttocks, stinging with a sharp pain. She yelled again! 'No, please! Enough!' Polly cried into her gag. But her pleas were ignored. She squirmed, twisting her body around violently, tugging on the bonds round her wrists and ankles, in a vain attempt to escape. Her hips and breasts swung frenziedly. It was useless. Exhausted, she collapsed in despair, perspiring freely with the effort. The savage merely laughed at her futile tussle. His white teeth split his black face with a callous sneer, arm relaxed, the whip dangling in front of him. Then, taking a deep breath, tensing his body for the swing, the brute twisted his body again. Swoosh! The third stroke, the heaviest so far, cut into her soft flesh with brutal power. Polly screamed, acutely aware of the stripe of red swelling where the lash had stung her flesh like wasp stings. The heat flamed in her groin, the furnace within her melting her honey. It bubbled and dribbled freely over her distended lips. The earlier vaginal lubrication was being replenished, mixing with the remains of the pygmies' sperm drying on her skin. Polly knew she was to be Kaldo's slave. There was no escape. Through the cloud of tears of agony, her blurred sight fixed on the brute's huge erection, now at full stretch, swaying insolently. The time would come when the monster would be crushed into her vulva - after the scourging was over. Kaldo faced her, breathing hard, open legged, the enormous head of his penis thrusting out of its foreskin. A thick white ooze seeped from its eye, dribbling slowly down the thick shaft. He looked down. Scooping the sticky mess onto thick fingers, he approached close to Polly. With a loud guffaw he smeared the paste over her lips and teeth with a rough wipe across her face. Polly jerked her head from side to side with distaste but couldn't avoid the slime. It smelt loathsome! Putrid and bitter. Then, he took four steps back and lashed her once more with the full weight of his body behind the strokes, sweat trickling down his black face, grimacing with pleasure. Polly's body writhed and jolted with the lash. The pain stabbed its way to her very core. Her body oblivious to any new pain, Polly was dimly aware of being untied from the trees. She collapsed to her knees in sheer exhaustion. The cheeks of her bottom were burning with the double beating they had taken. Her back was heavily bruised. Kaldo had intended ravishing her there and then, but decided to delay his carnal pleasure until he had reached his hut. At the settlement, he could take his time exploring the beauties offered by the luscious curves of the dainty white woman. Soft pale skin would drive him wild with desire. After he had indulged his lust to the limit, he would put her at the mercy of the rest of the village. The Kwali tribe was well-known for the might of man's phallus. It was a trait inbred in the males. The tribe was also feared for the severity of the cruelty it practised on its women. After the men had taken their enjoyment of Polly's body, it was unlikely the white woman would ever walk again. They would use her as a sex doll; she would be thrown around and finally impaled on the massive shaft of the God Mbotu. This was the remains of a tree trunk about a half-metre high used to chasten and punish rebellious women in the tribe, or those caught breaking the marriage vows. The remains of the tree were infested by a species of lice which preyed on human flesh. Once impaled on the trunk, the women's wrists were fastened to strong roots protruding from the ground before being whipped, spat on and humiliated by the villagers. As the lice came out to do their work inside the vagina, reducing the offender to a screaming beast, the male children in particular would enjoy mocking her, encouraged by their sisters and mothers. Whatever foul dirt they could find would be thrown at her. There she would remain in excruciating torment until sun-set before being brought before her family to beg forgiveness for her transgression in front of the whole village. Her genitals would be douched with bulls' urine until free from any lingering lice. It would be many days before the vagina was sufficiently recovered, ready to fulfil its purpose in life once more. Polly opened her eyes. Through the blurred vision, she was mesmerised by the black warrior's huge phallus, now bursting with lust. She wondered how she would manage to get such a monster into her vagina. Even the thought of encasing that mighty staff inside her, began to melt her honey; to lubricate the portals to her altar of lust. Her dazed curiosity overcame her revulsion of the man himself; his body was a superb example of powerful manhood. The thick ebony rod, hard and stiff, fascinated her. It throbbed with a strange power before her eyes. Polly was a slave to the might of the penis. The priceless pearl at its tip was now alluring. She was transfixed. Thick veins stood out like whipcord along the rock-hard shaft of polished ebony. A terrible force was boiling up in the warrior. It was irresistible. Kaldo couldn't wait. His need was immediate. The seed was stirring in his loins, eager for release. On her knees before him, the soft curves of the white woman, wrists tied behind her back, beckoned him; tore at his passion. The sight of her beauty, intensified by the bruises and swelling, overcame his resolve. Her face, even tear-stained, was a portrait of beauty to the brutal Kaldo. With a growl of greed, he dropped the whip. Grasping her face between his coarse hands, he crushed the almighty phallus between its soft lips, deep into Polly's throat. He would satisfy his lust in her warm mouth first. By the time they reached his village he would have regained his urge to split open her loins like a ripe peach with his iron shaft. Even Polly's experience in the art of fellatio was unable to control the sudden intrusion of the monster. It almost choked her. Her eyes bulged at the aggressive entry. Her breathing, even through her nose, was severely restricted by the sheer volume of cock stretching her jaws wide, filling the orifice. Polly screwed up her eyes in fright. To the accompaniment of harsh cries of lust, grunts of effort, the thick shaft pushed in and out with wild force. It dragged against the roof of her mouth. Polly desperately tried to control it. But she couldn't. She was choking. Panic hit her as her breathing became almost impossible. She struggled violently. The shaft was cruelly thrusting in and out of her dry mouth. It pounded painfully against its roof. She was sure she would faint. Her head spun with fear. A roaring in her ears got louder and louder! The thought of rending apart those tender lips of her genitals with his massive tool was too much for the native. His pent up lust burst from him with a mighty roar. Just as she thought she would die, Polly felt the deluge of warm fluid gush into her throat. Sticky and thick. The shaft was suddenly retracted until the head was just between her teeth, spurting its sticky jets into her aching cheeks. Polly gulped down long draughts of air into her burning lungs, half-choking on the copious starch-like sperm in her throat and mouth. It dribbled over her chin as she fought to regain her normal breathing. Kaldo, his immediate sexual need slaked, jerked Polly cruelly to her feet. She was forced to walk, wrists tied behind her back, pushed and goaded by a sturdy staff cut from a sapling, through the thick undergrowth towards his encampment. There, she would be subjected to a lengthy punishment. Flogged, tortured and violated by the huge warrior. The thought of such excitement drove him forward. He shouted at her to make more speed, beating her over the shoulders and buttocks with the stave. It was then that she stumbled and fell. Kaldo must have carried her into a clearing, tying her to the trunk of the tree to prevent her from escaping. Where had he gone, she wondered? Would he return? The jungle was sultry and hot. It rustled with mysterious sounds. Menacing and subdued. An occasional sudden screech shattered the murmuring quietness. The bitter taste of the warrior's semen still stung the back of her throat. With restricted movement of her head, Polly's eyes were able to search only a narrow expanse of the dense, lush undergrowth around her. Perspiration trickled down her face, between the superb breasts; over her flat belly. The pale skin of her breasts, their fullness pulled tight, was shimmering with a fine film of sweat, the coral-pink nipples jutting out. Her long platinum-blonde hair was wet and tangled. Then she saw it! Her eyes widened in terror! It was emerging from the thicket to her right. Her body froze with anticipation and fear as she watched, unblinking. A huge wolf-like beast had its black, piercing eyes, fixed on her. Slowly, it came into the clearing. It approached her, snout stretched forward, sniffing the air. The smell of Polly's female flesh aroused its curiosity. It was like a giant wolf, powerfully built with a thick muscular neck. Evil-looking eyes were set above a strong jaw. She was powerless to do anything to prevent the savage beast of the forest investigating her scent, sharpened by stale sperm. It paused, black eyes staring at her; lips curled back in a snarl, revealing razor-sharp teeth dripping with saliva. The monster moved forward again, cautiously, gracefully, growling softly from the back of the throat, black nose extended, until it reached her tree. Polly held her breath, fresh beads of sweat breaking out on her forehead. Then, uncontrolled fear opened her bladder. A stream of pale golden urine splashed into the undergrowth. It hissed and spattered, harsh in the silence around her. She tensed every muscle as the beast cocked its head. The black nose investigated the scent of the urine, soaking into the ground. Raising its head, the beast then slowly closed in on her genitals, now puffed and hot. The seat of Polly's strong, sweet smell attracted the monster. The black nose, large and hot, pushed gently against the swollen lips of wet flesh, sniffing. The unusual scent interested it. Then came a sudden sound! Snapping of twigs. The beast's head swung round, ears pricked. Polly's eyes widened when she saw that the monster's penis was unsheathed. The large crimson rod, slimy with lust. She wondered with apprehension whether it would try to penetrate her with that vile awesome cock. Satisfied that there was no danger, the beast returned its interest to Polly's genitals drenched in sweat, urine and lubrication. Its nose was pressed hard against her clitoris. Polly's loins jerked at the touch but she managed to control the outward signs to a mere twitch of her buttocks. Twisting its head sideways, the animal nudged the soft folds apart, to snake its long, rough tongue between the juicy folds. It found her entrance, the tender orifice seeping with her secretions. The rough tongue slipped deep into the sweet warmth, tasting the soft morsel. Polly began to tremble. She couldn't control her muscles. One snap of those vicious-looking teeth would surely slice through the folds of her soft genitals with ease. They would make a juicy bite for the animal. Polly closed her eyes to the horror before her, certain that her final moments had come. Her end would be painful and bloody. In the middle of this moment of terror, Polly suddenly wondered how she had managed to get herself into this unlikely predicament. Bound to a tree in a forest in the middle of the African jungle, thousands of miles from her London flat, being molested by a huge beast. * * * * * * * * * * It had all started in the small island off the Greek mainland where she had found her father, only to lose him again immediately. It happened at the festival of the Marquis de Sade. Polly was the sacrifice at the mercy of ten hooded disciples of the Marquis. Each disciple was armed with a different instrument of flagellation. Ten men, each delivering ten strokes, reduced Polly to a sobbing heap of female flesh, bruised, torn and battered. First, shackled to an altar, then hung from an overhead horizontal bar. Naked, humiliated and abused, she had lost the last vestige of pride by losing control of her bladder. The ten disciples had watched with delight as the golden stream arched from its tiny orifice between blistered labia lips. Brought round from her unconscious state, she was held in a kneeling position by two of the men, whilst being forced to fellate the thick protrusion thrust into her mouth. At the moment of ejaculation she knew that her greatest ambition, her dearest wish, was being fulfilled. It was a moment of supreme elation for her. The hard, erupting penis was her father's! At last! Overcome with fainting, Polly was escorted back to the recovery room only to discover, on her return to consciousness, that her father had left the island. Dejected at her loss, Polly discovered that he had gone on a secret mission to Africa. A mission of great danger. She vowed to follow him. So her journey to the deepest parts of the steaming jungle had begun. * * * * * * * * * Polly's thoughts were suddenly interrupted. There came a crashing sound from the other side of the clearing. The wolf-like animal turned its head, looking for the source of the noise. Something was crashing through the undergrowth, coming towards them. The beast raised its snout, sniffing at the air from the direction of the sound. Polly saw it's genitals, the large, hairy testicles swaying between its powerful haunches, now taught, ready to spring. Through the dense undergrowth appeared Kaldo. A large, almost black, monstrous figure. Naked and carrying an armful of long supple canes. His eyes were bright with anticipation, his enormous penis, half distended, swaying before him, the low-slung testicles swinging wildly as his long legs thrust through the grasses. He had reached the edge of the clearing before he saw the beast, now crouching, coiled. The man stopped in his tracks. Dropping the canes, his jaw fell open, and his eyes bulged with terror. Before he could make another move, the beast sprang. Its jaw snapped with a loud growl. With a bellow of agony and terror, the man was hurled backwards by the blow. The beast paused to tear at what was in its mouth and, as the man turned to flee in panic, Polly saw that his entire genitals had been ripped away. That proud, mighty shaft and its huge supplying sac were missing. In their place was jagged raw flesh, gory tubes hanging, blood running down the inner thigh as far as to the knees. Polly's African Adventures Ch. 02 It all started when relaxing with her master, Ulysses, in his luxury apartment following a particularly sadistic beating. Her master was a well-built man with a shaved head. Apart from a dark beard and moustache encircling his mouth, with matching eyebrows, his body was devoid of hair. When naked, he was a magnificent sight to behold, particularly when sporting a strong erection. He radiated domination and power. The mere sight of Ulysses was enough to rouse Polly's base instincts to slave-like devotion. She melted. He could treat her as he wished. And he did. Polly suffered his humiliating acts of sadism with relish. Round his neck he wore a gold chain and locket. His body was usually swathed in white robes when relaxing in his apartment. His faithful attendant and ever-present helper was the dwarf, Quilp. His was a misshapen body and humped back. A large head was topped with slicked-back hair, a flat face split in two by a black moustache. A permanent grin gave him an altogether satanic appearance. He was usually perched on a padded stool. He, too wore a white wrap-over robe. Polly shared their sadistic games with her companion, Marina, the small Eurasian woman she had rescued from the clutches of a cruel boat captain. Earlier that evening Polly had watched Marina sobbing under the torment of Quilp. The smallness of his body was not matched by his misshapen phallus. When at full stretch, it reared above Quilp's chin. As he stood gazing lewdly at the forlorn, helpless figure of Marina, he would tease the waif-like girl by kissing the end of his own cock. She was made to stand naked in the middle of the room, legs well apart, behind a silver bowl on the floor. Wrists were manacled, arms held high to lift her small breasts. The near-black nipples hard and shrivelled, tempting lips to suckle them hard to straighten out the wrinkles. Above her head, slung from the ceiling, was a container. It resembled a spherical kettle. Steam rose from it. It held boiling oil. From one side of the container dangled a cord, the end of which was attached to Marina's wrists. If she lowered her arms above a few centimetres, the container would tilt, dripping boiling oil from its spout onto the body beneath. Splashes of molten agony. Quilp sat, kissing his solid penis casually, watching the strain on Marina's face as her arms began to ache. Perspiration broke out on her forehead. Her mind began to panic as the muscles in her arms begged for relief. Quilp smiled at her discomfort. 'Pee for me, darling,' he asked. 'Then you shall be released.' Quilp had a fetish for watching a woman pee. He moved closer to Marina, concentrating his scrutiny on the gash between her thighs. The parting of the legs opened the labia so that the small pink folds were clear to see. Marina's secret honey was smeared over them, for she was seldom free from the secretions from her passage. Quilp reached out his hand to part the lips, exposing the small orifice of the urethra. Although Marina had drank a fair amount of liquid, to pass water to order was not easy, even though it was a common demand from her master. She was not allowed to empty her bladder until ordered to do so, but given the order, she found it hard. She squeezed her bladder as hard as she could. But to no avail. Quilp took her clitoris between thumb and second finger, nipping it very hard. 'Pee!' Her body jolted in response. Then she screamed! A drop of molten oil had tipped out of the container onto her shoulder. Her bladder opened. To Quilp's great joy and squeals of delight, the golden stream tinkled into the silver bowl. The dwarf held the palm of his hand under the stream allowing the hot liquid to run through his fingers into the bowl. When, at last, the stream had finished, Marina's face screwed up in agony, the manacles round the wrist were unclasped by a remote control switch. Marina sobbed as her arms fell to her sides, her head hung in shame and dismay. A small blister had formed on her shoulder. The burning pain from it bit into her flesh. The bowl removed, Quilp then proceeded to thrash Marina's buttocks with a short, wide leather strap. About the size of a large slipper. It was a casual, almost disinterested flogging. But behind the superficial appearance, Quilp was relishing the humiliating punishment of the pretty young woman; taking delight in watching her suffering expression, teeth gritted to avoid screaming in pain. Yelps only encouraged the dwarf to strike even harder. 'Bend!' he barked. The compliant slave bent forward, her taught buttocks presented for his enjoyment. After the strapping she endured that evening, Quilp drew on a pair of gloves whilst ordering her to lay, face down, over a footstool so that her genitals were level with his loins. The enormous phallus was crushed into Marina's rectum with savage force. She yelped and jerked at the intrusion. He embraced her small tender breasts with his special gloves. They were set with a ring of thorn-like prickles round the palm. These dug painfully into the soft olive-coloured flesh. Marina screamed in agony as gloves clasped over her breasts, the thorns pressing into her whilst he thudded in and out of her tight passage. He enjoyed hearing the high screams of his slaves when he was ravishing them. He believed they were shrieks of enjoyment. So Marina intensified the cry to satisfy his desire. One day, she knew, he would tire of her. Her future - her life - would then be in serious doubt. It had taken several minutes after the punishment for Polly to repair Marina's broken skin, soothe the blister and the severe scratches on her breasts. Marina was young, though not as young as she looked. Her pretty face, smooth skin; her small frame and narrow hips, gave her the appearance of a child-like waif. Her body quickly recovered from these minor, if agonising, injuries. Then they ate their meal. Afterwards, they relaxed with their masters. 'You remember the Third Man?' Ulysses asked Polly. 'The sadistic monster in MI6?' Polly remembered his savage treatment of her friends in the punishment room some days earlier. 'The same. I have since been informed that he was one of the disciples of the Marquis at your sacrifice. Your resistance to the punishment impressed him. He now has news of your father.' Polly sat up quickly. 'Father?' 'An African Ambassador, Prince Tontu, is in England just now. The Third Man thinks you ought to meet. But, first, he wants you go see him in his office where he can explain all.' 'When?' 'He will find the means of telling you. But, Polly, I must warn you that he is a brutal sadist. Quilp is a benevolent saint compared with him. Even so, he is very important to me. So you must do all he asks of you, without question. If you agree to a meeting there will be no going back. He is a merciless killer if it becomes necessary.' So it was that a mysterious message on her answer-phone told her to be ready the following day at 7.00pm. At exactly seven a car drew up outside the door. An ordinary small private car in need of a wash and polish. It was dusk as the car came to a stop outside a dingy terraced house in a quiet street. Polly knew she was somewhere in central London, but the obscured windows prevented her from knowing exactly where. The sound of Big Ben chiming the half-hour suggested she was not far from Westminster. Before she had time to reach the door at the top of three stone steps, it opened. Polly found herself in a dingy entrance hall. The door closed behind her with a soft click. A young man in a grey suit motioned her to follow him up the staircase. The carpet was threadbare. The paint peeling off the walls. When she reached the top of the stairs a panel hissed open in front of her. She stepped into a small cubicle. A soft hiss behind her told her that the panel had closed. All was in blackness. The only sound was that of her own breathing. She then felt the jolt as the cubicle moved. Polly realised she was in a lift. It came to a halt. Another hiss. Then a sudden shaft of light blinded her. Her body was hauled out of the cubicle, the blinding light obscuring her surroundings. 'You are Pauline Raddles?' The voice was that of a woman. It had a sinister tone. 'I am,' she stammered softly. 'All right,' said a more friendly male voice. 'It's her all right.' The spotlight was turned off. Polly's eyes became accustomed to the normal light. At the end of a desk facing her was a tall, severe-looking woman of heavy build. She was dressed in a black uniform, her hair tied back into a bun. Round her waist was a thick studded belt. On the desk was a black box. Wires came from it, attached at the other end to metal rods. On the wall behind the desk was a large screen. At the other side of the desk, sat in an armchair, was The Third Man, smiling at her. He was tapping an ebony cane in the palm of his left hand. His eyes looked her up and down. They had an evil glint, examining her curves. Polly had dressed soberly and was wearing a long belted raincoat. Beneath a two-piece costume, she had put on a blouse and a pair of white silk French knickers with open crotch. 'You are in a high security building, Miss Raddles. It will be necessary to search you. All newcomers are regarded as adversaries until proved otherwise. You will be stripped and searched. Please hold your hands high and keep them there at all times.' Polly had no sooner raised her arms when the woman came to her. The raincoat was expertly removed and the pockets searched. They were empty. Buttons were expertly unfastened. Before Polly realised it, she was standing only in her knickers. Turning to face Polly, the heavy woman had a look of respect and excitement in her eyes as she studied Polly's figure. The perfectly shaped breasts, smooth and pale. The chunky nipples. The shapely thighs and narrow waist. At a nod from The Third Man, the uniformed woman pushed down Polly's knickers, removing them altogether. Holding them to her nose, she inhaled the odour of Polly's crotch with relish. Polly now stood naked and vulnerable. A lonely waif with blonde tresses tumbling over her shoulders. She had an expression of shame on her face. Her rounded, peach-like bottom attracted The Third Man. He had an evil, hungry look. Almost satanic. 'You can lower your hands,' he said. Polly took up a child-like stance, shoulders slightly hunched, head bowed with thumb between her lips. The woman came to her, grasped her wrists in a vice-like grip, pulling them down. There was the feel of cold metal and a click. Polly's wrists were manacled. A shiver of apprehension went through her. The Third Man now stood up from his arm chair. He stared at her beautiful body. His ebony cane traced casually over the contours of each breast, pausing at each nipple. He prodded them, to test their stiffness before moving down the flat belly, the soft blonde curls, the narrow waist and swelling thighs, the contours of her bottom. Polly felt herself beginning to get wet. There was a curious feeling of foreboding about the place. A sexual threat. A fear of the unknown. It roused her sensuality. 'Hmm! Excellent. Such inviting flesh.' And with a sudden swing of his arm, The Third Man swiped the ebony cane across the pale cheek of her buttocks. Polly winced, grunting at the suddenness of the sting. 'Get on the trolley please.' Polly had not noticed the inspection trolley beside her. She hesitated a fraction. The cane was brought down hard on her buttocks once again. 'Please, Miss Raddles.' Polly quickly climbed onto the trolley, laying on her back. The trolley was wheeled into the centre of the room. Above her were stirrups suspended from the ceiling. The were clearly controlled by a remote switch, for they began to descend. The powerful woman took each of Polly's legs, fixing her ankles in the stirrups. They were then raised until her legs were pulled apart into a large V-shape, exposing her vulva. The outer lips were drawn apart to reveal the pretty orifice with its coral-pink wrinkled lips. Warm honey glinted on them. Polly felt a mixture of embarrassment at being examined in this way, with her enjoyment of exposing her beauty. For she knew she had the perfect set of genitals. Their shape, their proportions, were in every way female perfection; sweet and innocent looking. Suddenly, an overhead spotlight came on. Its beam lit up the genitals. Every detail was ready for inspection. The woman gasped audibly. Her eyes popped with awe as they feasted on the sight. Polly was familiar with the reaction. She, herself, enjoyed gazing on their beauty through a hand mirror, teasing apart the pink lips to reveal the orifice itself. The dark secret of her feminine paradise. The small button, so innocent-looking, nestling in its little fold. That nub of gristle which had the power to excite; to send currents of ecstasy jolting though her body. 'You may examine her,' the woman was told. Moving between Polly's legs, the powerful woman slowly reached forward to part the delicate lips between her fingers. A narrow tube was inserted into the vulva. The screen behind the desk flickered into life. There, for all to see, was the enlarged view of the inside of Polly's vagina. Pink, soft and honeyed. The tube, a miniature TV camera, was moved around and pushed to its fullest depth. 'Clear,' the woman muttered thickly. 'Nothing hidden.' 'And the other opening.' Polly realised that she would have the indignity of the tube in her rectum. The smooth metal pushed into the tight puckered entrance. 'Clear,' came the response. Polly noticed the excitement on the woman's face; the way she licked her thick, dry lips. 'Codes?' the man asked. Polly's torso was inspected minutely. Her breasts were lifted for examination, her armpits, her inner thighs. Her legs were taken from the stirrups, and she was turned over onto her belly. The cheeks of her buttocks were dragged apart, every square inch of flesh scrutinised. 'None!' she muttered curtly. 'Now, Miss Raddles. It seems that there are no marks on you to indicate any connection with the Russian espionage. And, believe me, if you were an agent, there would be. Not obvious, but certainly there. Used as a means of identifying unrecognisable corpses. They are usually etched into the skin to one side of the vulva. A small red dagger. On a man, you will find a similar symbol on the underside of his penis. The skin must be stretched to identify it fully. Of course, when the penis is erect, the sign is clear. A combination of three minute dots identifies the person. Or dead person, perhaps.' Polly realised these people meant business. They were not playing a game. It was a matter of life and death to them. The warder-like woman was strapping Polly's ankles to the two stirrups which had been lowered. A button was pressed. There was a whirring noise. Polly felt her body lifted in the stirrups once again. But this time the trolley was removed from beneath her. She was swinging loose, suspended by her ankles, legs wide apart. Her hair swept the carpet. Her hands could just reach the floor. The Third Man was, meantime, explaining the action to her. 'Our enemies will do anything to make us talk. They torture the names of contacts out of our agents if they can. We need to be certain that you will be able to withstand such treatment, Polly. It will hurt, I promise you. And, if it helps, you should know that we have all undergone this same punishment. Yes, even Two-o-five here. I personally had the enjoyment of testing our friend.' 'But I don't know any contacts. How can I reveal that I don't know?' 'But you do my dear. There's me, for example. There's Two-o-five here. There's Ulysses. There's your father. and - of course - Fagin.' 'Fagin!' Polly was truly amazed to learn that her old master and teacher, Fagin, was in the pay of MI6. 'So, you see! Of course, the punishment is not usually carried out in comfortable surroundings. But those comforts will soon be forgotten, I assure you. There are three stages to the usual punishment. The failure of one leads to the next one.' And the first began immediately. A leather whip landed without warning across Polly's delicious cheeks with a loud crack. It cut a deep rut in the pale flesh which swelled up quickly to a red weal. She yelped, her body jerking, setting it swinging drunkenly. A succession of blows quickly rained down on her buttocks and thighs. A whip was alternated with a supple cane. It was rapid and unremitting. Brutal. The pain rapidly reached a crescendo. It swamped her sensations. It seared through her groin making her sob. Her loins were ablaze. Her flesh quickly became a mass of crimson, with purple bruises and swollen ridges of stinging agony. It lasted exactly one minute. Then it stopped. 'Who is your contact, Polly. Tell me. Then we need not flog you any further.' Polly bit her lip. Tears filled her eyes, squeezed shut against the agony bursting in her head. She remembered Ulysses' warning. 'Come, my dear. Just one name and the pain will go away. Otherwise, the punishment will be turned on your secret little genitals. Your pride. So beautiful. So tender. It will be a shame to spoil them.' Polly was horrified. She suddenly felt sick with dread of being whipped between her thighs. But she bit her lip, tensing her body against the onslaught she knew would come. She screamed! The cane struck between the pearly lips, sending up a fine spray of her honey. It was worse than she expected. The woman stood behind her, the man in front. Both were wielding slender canes. Two cruel stokes each cut into the tender folds. The pain was excruciating. She must tell them! She could not endure more punishment. After all, what's a name? 'Tell! The name!' Polly was now sobbing. Her body was a mass of suffering. She turned her mind deliberately onto other things. She thought of her father's playful spanking; his semi-thick phallus teasing; beckoning. The burst of his sperm in her throat. Her body remained rigid. She remained silent. Another three strokes each sliced sharply into the fleshy folds of her vulva. Polly's brain was incapable of taking more agony. A numbness was creeping over her burning flesh, scalding deep into her loins. Thighs and buttocks were aflame with angry crimson blotches and weals, mixed with blue bruises. As string of red pearls seeped from two new ridges, her whole genital area was pulverised to a cluster of swollen raw flesh. 'The name!' This time, the voice was harsh and menacing. 'Tell us the name and your life will be spared. Your wounds will be attended to. Soothed. Just say the name of your contact.' Polly hardly heard the voice. Her brain was trying to cope with the messages of anguish, swamping out all else. There was a welcome respite for a few moments before Polly's wrists were grasped and manacled together. She suddenly felt her shoulders being lifted until her body hung limp, like a hammock. 'So, Two-o-five. Stage two.' The voice in the distance sounded threatening. After a short pause, a cool, thin rod was inserted deep into her vagina. A second one was inserted into the bowels of her rectum. Snap! The pain was excruciating. Her body recoiled and convulsed wildly as the electric current jolted her internal tubes and passages. Her mouth opened in a silent scream. The agony was too intense to describe. It jolted her torso in a sea of stabbing agony. Polly had no control of her muscles. The current buffeted them; piercing agony! Then it stopped! The scream held in her throat finally escaped her in a deafening shriek. She knew she would die! There was no escape! Then, a merest touch on her clitoris sent the electric current jabbing straight to the groin and Polly erupted in the most agonising orgasm she had ever felt. Her body convulsed, tossing and leaping with its power. Polly's African Adventures Ch. 02 'The name!' A voice shouted from the distance mountain tops. Her body slowly subsided. Her brain gave up trying to cope. She became semi-conscious, floating in a sea of boiling lava; her flesh was roasting, disintegrating. It would fall off her bones. She no longer cared. At least, the agony would end. She had even no cause to bite her lip any more. Each throb of her heart sent streams of pain through her arteries. 'The name!' But Polly didn't hear. 'Stage three, Two-o-five,' came the command. There was the prick of a needle in her upper arm. After a short while, a curious sensation slowly engulfed her. A growing need for sexual contact. Her arousal gradually overcame the sheer agony racking her limbs. Her genitals became wet and stimulated. A deep-seated desire inflamed her. Desperation overwhelmed her. She must have penetration. A cock. Her breathing became laboured. Her sighs pitiful. From the depths of her blazing loins she felt the honey streaming out of her. Her frustration became obsessive. She must have it! 'Fuck me!' she screamed. 'Fuck me!' Her utter humiliation at having to beg for a cock to fuck her could be heard in her cries. 'The name!' came the reply. 'Tell us the name. Then you will be penetrated by a large, thick penis. It will fuck you until you explode with joy and release.' This was the nearest Polly came to blurting out his name. She twisted and flexed her loins. Her whole body was desperate for her vagina to be violated. Her mind became filled with images of large ejaculating cocks. Polly sobbed in desperation for release. Her loins screamed. 'Oh, please! Release me from this agony.' 'The name!' boomed the voice. But Polly refused to utter a syllable. Her writhing body showed her suffering. If only she could reach her clitoris. Rub it! Push her fingers in! Alas, they were manacled. She prayed for unconsciousness, but the demands of her body for urgent sexual activity tormented her. Just as she thought she would burst, she felt her body falling. Her suspended buttocks struck the boiling water. the stirrups lowered the full length of her body into the bath. She shrieked as never in her life before. The sound tore her throat. 'The name!' It was then that Polly lost consciousness. When she came to, she was suspended by the wrists from the stirrups. She was cold and wet. A strange throbbing of excitement was swirling through her loins. A door slid open across the room. Through it, into the spot-light, stepped a heavily-built man carrying a terrified-looking Marina! She was gagged and bound round the arms and legs. Polly had never seen such an evil looking brute! The intruder had a shaven head which accentuated the missing right ear. He wore a black eye-patch. His figure was bulky, like that of a wrestler. A black polo-neck shirt and black track suit trousers covered him. A sheath knife and truncheon hung from a wide belt. He stood Marina in front of him, taking out his sheath knife. It sliced through the ropes with ease. They fell to the floor. Marina was rooted to the spot, too terrified to move. With his free hand, the wrestler snatched her blouse, ripping it from her body leaving Marina naked from the waist up. Then, slipping the keen edge of the knife into the side of her waist band, he sliced down the skirt and pants. The skirt fell away. The knife soon sliced through the other waist of the pants to leave Marina totally naked. With bowed head, she was too ashamed to look Polly in the face. She had been left to guard the flat. But her visitor had told her that Polly wanted her urgently and that she must accompany him. Once inside the privacy of the apartment he had pounced on her, binding her and slapping a band of wide sticking plaster over her mouth. Marina was scooped up in his arms like a doll. Without saying a word, the man replaced the sheath knife with the truncheon. Releasing a catch at one end, a coiled thong dropped out from the other. Marina was completely dominated by this misshapen hulk. Polly's African Adventures Ch. 05 The Editors decided that the content of Chapters 3 and 4 did not comply with the rules of Literotica. We'll try to do better with this one! * Chapter Five The Prince was impressed by Polly's behaviour and obedience. She had convinced him that her resolution under torture would not be broken. Her resistance to torture and pain were of the highest order. Prince Tontu explained to her that her father was on the trail of special Korean agents who were in his country. But his whereabouts had become uncertain, but he was known to be deep in the bush. If Polly wished to join the search for him, it might be acceptable. The Korean agents would not be looking for a young, English safari traveller. Rather, they would be seeking Middle Eastern agents, or Greek spies. He arranged for her to be flown to Central Africa in his private jet. She should present herself to the VIP desk at Heathrow in five days time. She would be allowed her personal attendant to travel with her. They arrived in good time for boarding, and drank a black coffee in the VIP lounge. 'I'm glad to be on the way,' Polly admitted. 'I've just about recovered from the ordeal at the Embassy. I'm getting ready for more adventures.' 'Oh, I've been getting regular treatment from Joseph,' came the response from Marina. 'Even so, I'm always ready for a change of master.' 'Lucky you!' Both were travelling light since they were assured that everything they could possibly need would be available at their destination. Safari suits and all essential equipment would be there. The Prince's nephew was to meet them in Nairobi. Then they were to travel by Jeep immediately to the base camp on the edge of the interior. Dressed in summer blouses and short skirts of white crepe, sling-back white shoes and white briefs, their braless breasts swayed provocatively under the blouse, pockets hiding the nipples from view. Vanity cases were their only luggage of personal possessions. They were approached by two tall black men in uniform. Both were very smart and clean-looking. They looked the ladies up and down as they reached their table, smiling at them in obvious appreciation. Polly returned the smile with a lingering look into the nearest man's eyes with her best little-girl-lost look. She could see his surprise - and disbelief. There was never any mistaking Polly's message of surrender! They introduced themselves as the Captain and his first officer with wide brilliant smiles. The women were escorted to the private jet which had just been re-fuelled. 'We have instructions from the ambassador to treat you well. Anything you want, just ask.' Polly and Marina exchanges glances. Each knew what the other wanted. The interior of the aircraft was stupendous. Armchairs and a sofa with low backs, deeply cushioned in white upholstery. Mahogany coffee tables. A desk at one end was supplied with computer equipment. The windows were covered in heavy silver and white damask, draped with thick silver cords. The floor was covered in a deep pile, woollen carpet. The small cocktail bar was well-stocked. A glass display cabinet on the wall beside the entrance door contained various instruments in case of danger. Bamboo tubes, machetes, rapiers, leather whips, a taws and wide canvas belts. After they settled into the arm-chairs for their long flight to Nairobi, the steward stole glances at the long, elegant legs and exposed length of thigh both women showed. His manhood stirred at the thought of what lay between those beautiful thighs. He came to the table to offer them coffee. As he bent over Polly to pour, his eyes strayed to her blouse hoping to catch a glimpse of her cream-coloured breasts. Polly eased her shoulders forward slightly so that the blouse would billow at the top, giving him a good view of her perfect rounded orbs, with nipples taught and stiff. The steward's eyes opened wider. His manhood stirred again. 'Enjoying the sights?' she whispered hoarsely, smiling into his embarrassed face. 'Don't be shy, they're worth looking at. Let me show you.' She unfastened the top two button with unconcern, flapping back the blouse to show her left breast. 'Not bad for a little girl, eh?' She pouted her lips in a girlish display. Then closed the blouse. 'You can come back later for more if you're a good boy.' The steward returned to the bar, where he whispered excitedly to his colleague. They kept glancing across at them. Meantime, Polly and Marina whispered together, giggling at the bulge in the steward's trousers. When he returned to refill her cup, he paused at her side. Polly looked up into his face, drawing her blouse to one side again, revealing the superb breast. As he ogled it, she placed the palm of her hand on his groin, feeling the stiffening tenant, rubbing her palm slowly up and down. The steward gulped. 'Are you interested?' she asked, 'or is it just a passing fancy?' 'You are stunning. Who could not possibly be interested in your beauty. But the Captain and First Officer have first choice.' 'Who says?' she asked. 'When your duties are done, you can fuck me,' she whispered to him. 'I'm sure you can find a place. Meantime perhaps you can find us a bottle of champagne.' Lucy laughed quietly. 'You never give up trying, do you Polly? Do you seriously expect to have him during the flight?' 'Of course. I'm pretty sure his friend will be interested too.' Sure enough, the other attendant behind the bar was looking across at them with widened eyes as the steward whispered to him in their native tongue. 'How are you fixed, Marina?' 'I'll try anything once!' After a few minutes, the steward returned with the champagne in an ice bucket and two glasses. He was a young smooth man of powerful build, wearing regulation shirt and dark-blue trousers. As he approached, Polly studied his crotch before looking up at him with her little-girl-lost look. When he got to the table she once again felt his crotch. It had already half-filled in anticipation. 'How well are you hung? Will it hurt me?' she asked. 'I'm only an innocent little girl, really.' He was setting the ice bucket beside the arm of her seat. The cork was already drawn. 'Well, little girl,' he hesitated, 'our tribe has a reputation for man-sized cocks. Why not take a look for yourself?' So, Polly unzipped his flies, groped inside to search for a way through the boxer shorts, finding the stiffening tube of warm flesh. Her eyes widened as she felt the thickness of the throbbing penis, still thickening. She cupped the genitals in her hand, drawing out the full set. The penis was swelling quickly. Black as ebony, smooth-skinned and thick. Polly stared at it in disbelief. Polly could never get enough cock, no matter which of her natural orifices was being penetrated. She just adored the organ. Its nobility, its arrogance, its servility in front of woman. And this was a superb specimen. 'I suppose it requires plenty of lubrication,' her eyes still fixed on the iron-hard cock. 'That certainly helps, madam.' Marina watched with a light smile in the corners of her mouth as Polly withdrew her hand with a gasp, putting her fingers to her lips in mock astonishment. 'Are they all as big as that?' she asked ingenuously. Polly reached her hand forward to take the expanding cock once again in her grasp. There was a powerful aroma of male sex. Polly always enjoyed watching cock grow. She took it in her mouth, running her tongue over the knob, teeth gently biting into the shaft, sliding it in and out. The steward gasped and jerked at the contact, but concentrated on pouring two glasses of bubbly as Polly concentrated on bringing him to full stretch. Looking down at her with a glazed look, a glass in one hand, he watched his penis thrust into the beautiful mouth of the elegant lady. To increase his excitement, Marina smiled up at him. She opened her blouse to show him her olive-coloured breasts, cradling them in her hands, lifting them for his better inspection. His eyes nearly popped out of his head. Polly took her head away for a few seconds as he put the glass down in front of her. She peeled back the foreskin to examine the weapon more closely, its shaft hard and smooth, knob a deep purple - almost black. Fondling his testicles she took the head once again into her mouth, setting about working it up into a frenzy. Having been cock-starved for almost a week she was relishing the sensation of having control over such a wonderful weapon. Thighs began to tremble. The steward tried to suppress jerks in his hips. Polly felt his loins clench, his buttocks jerk. He was pouring the other glass of bubbly, passing the point of no return. ' No doubt there's an adequate supply of cream?' Polly increased the pressure of her lips, teeth scraping the skin. Feeling his spasms begin to increase, she slid her mouth as afr as she culd onto the cock, until its head reached the back of her throat. With a muffled grunt he ejected his semen into her mouth with several wild jerks of his loins. The spurts of hot sperm flowed directly down her throat, dribbling thickly from his cock, until it was all spent. 'Copious, madam! Copious!' he gasped through his discharge. When his spasms has passed, she withdrew the cock slowly from her mouth, as he handed the glass to Marina. Polly quietly replaced his genitals into the trousers, zipping it up. She sat back in her seat, lifted the glass to her lips and took a long sip. 'Is that to your satisfaction, little girl?' he asked. Polly smiled as she swallowed. 'That was a superb cocktail. Not too dry,' she mused. 'Bitter-sweet. Thank you!' 'Thank YOU young madam,' he replied. 'It isn't often I have the pleasure!' 'Nor me!' she assured him. 'Perhaps your companion would like to show my little sister here what he has to offer in the way of sweets. She's very fond of chocolate bars. Particularly ones full of cream.' 'I'll send him over,' he said, adjusting his trousers before returning to the cocktail bar where his companion was open-mouthed. Marina laughed, adjusting her blouse to cover her breasts. 'That was cool, Polly! Cool!' The bar-man was smiling broadly as the Steward spoke to him. He walked over to the side of Marina. 'And what can I get for you my little girl?' 'My friend here tells me that you have some nice chocolate bar, filled with cream.' 'Certainly,' he responded, opening his flies to tug out his thickening penis. 'There.' 'Oooh!' cried Marina, wide-eyed. 'My! That is a lovely chocolate bar. Can I lick it? Is it all for me?' The young bar-man smiled, proffering the almost rigid penis to her face. 'All of it, young lady.' Marina took it between her rose-bud lips, sucking and licking the head as though it was a lollipop. 'Hmmm!' she murmured. 'It tastes ever so good! But where's the cream?' 'Ah, you must lick it hard and long before you can taste the cream, little one.' He stood, pelvis thrust forward, hands holding his buttocks. Marina's warm mouth bobbed up and down the hard shaft, fondling the testicles and inner thighs with one hand, whilst massaging the base of the column with the other. Her mouth was full to bursting, but she was able to control the plunging phallus. Soon, the man's face screwed up, head thrown back. The loins began to jerk and tremble. The muscles of his thighs tightened. His groin jabbed at her face. Then, with a stifled roar, his black shaft burst. A torrent of cream squirted into Marina's throat and cheeks. She whimpered and squealed with delight. When the last jerk had subsided, Marina swallowed before drawing the shaft from her mouth with a big smile. 'What a lot of lovely cream,' she cooed. 'When will you have some more?' 'Oh, it don't take long little girl. It don't take long!' The two women watched wistfully as he returned his softening dark tube into his trousers. 'Mmm! That was unexpected,' Marina cooed. 'Always expect the unexpected,' Polly was saying. 'After seven days of chastity, that felt absolutely wonderful!' 'Cheers!' Marina lifted her glass. But, unknown to Polly and Marina, the whole episode had been watched with interest by the Captain and First Officer on the closed-circuit TV screen in the cock-pit. They left their seats, leaving the engineer and second officer to control the flight. Polly looked up to see the captain and First Officer facing her. Both were well over two metres tall, with powerful physiques to match. Their black, polished faces beamed down with gleaming smiles at the two young ladies. 'I hope everything is to your liking.' 'Thank you, yes. You have a very obliging staff, Captain. A little stiff, but very forthcoming.' 'Thank you. We do our best to please. Were you fully satisfied, or can I be of assistance in completing your pleasure? I have a little time to spare.' Polly placed her hand on the captain's bulging groin. 'Hmmm! Feels promising!' She unzipped the flies, pushing a hand delicately into the gap. Her fingers immediately curled round the stem. He had clearly removed his underwear in advance. The Captain remained aloof and still, smiling at her with indulgence. 'You seem to have been cock-sure of my interest,' she added. 'Well, one lick of cream is rarely enough for a lady of obvious discernment. Two is always better, and sometimes more is best!' Polly took his circumcised shaft, stiffening quickly. As others of the same tribe, it was a monstrous size. That of the Prince seemed as normal compared with these giants she was seeing today. Marina's eyes were bulging with amazement. 'We shall see,' Polly replied. 'You'll forgive me if I refrain from speaking to you with my mouth full.' The tangy smell of male sex filled her nostrils once again, as she leaned forward to run her lips expertly round the velvety head before sinking it deep into her mouth. The mouth open at full stretch only just managed to sheath the swelling shaft. It filled her cheeks until it reached its limit. Shorter than the steward's, though thicker, Polly worked on it ravenously, fondling the testicles, heavy and warm. Marina took over the conversation. 'You have a useful piece of apparatus, there, Captain. Does you use it often?' 'Whenever I can, madam. Occasionally it gets overworked, but most of the time I'm able to regulate its use to suit my requirements. But I have to tell you that it is against regulations to eat chocolate bars on the President's Private jet. You must both be punished for it. Please stand.' And the Captain withdrew his now rampant wet penis, with some reluctance, from Polly's warm mouth. The two women looked at one another. Then they stood. 'The ambassador mentioned the need for you to be punished if you were naughty girls. Please lift your skirts and bend over the arm-chair backs.' Without a word, Polly and Marina stood behind their arms chairs, lifting their skirts up the waist. They bent over the upholstered backs, hands gripping the arms, heads turned in the seat cushion. 'But, first, you have both to be searched for hidden containers. It is security. There must be no chance whatever of anyone leaving explosives hidden on the aircraft.' The Captain and his First Officer examined the white silk briefs, pulled taught over the cheeks of the bottoms. Polly's pale and well-rounded, Marina's olive-coloured and firm. The darkening patch in the gussets were clear to see. Much sweet honey had already soaked into the cotton padding. The two Stewards came to watch the proceedings. The officers peeled the panties down to the women's knees to expose their two secret orifices. When the Captain caught sight of Polly's perfect genitals, he stared in disbelief at its perfection. The vulvas were wet with arousal, allowing the men ease of access with special examination tubes which explored every inner fold and crevice. Polly was shamed by this familiar action by the Captain with the most private part of her body. His examination was long and thorough, taking great delight in probing the dark secrets of this perfect vagina. Her humiliation was deepened, her cheeks burning red with embarrassment when the tube was inserted deep into her rectum. Marina was being similarly explored by the First Officer. The examinations complete, the Captain crossed to the glass display cabinet, opening it to remove two instruments. A leather strap split into a bunch of fingers at one end. And a flat wooden lath, narrow and supple. He handed the taws to his first officer before talking up position at the side of Polly, the First Officer facing him at the side of Marina. 'Ten whacks, I think. To begin with. We may not mark you, of course. Merely heighten the colour of your skin. Stimulate the flow of blood.' And he suddenly landed a vicious thwack on Polly's bottom. She yelped in surprise. Her loins recoiled violently as the sting spread through her flesh. The First Officer slapped Marina at the same time with the leather taws. The blows came at regular intervals, every two seconds. They were very painful. Polly bit her lip, tensing her body against the beating. The stinging pain stoked the furnace in her loins. The flesh of her cheeks burned hot with a thousand stings. But the briefs had prevented any real damage to the flesh. When the ten strokes were complete, the two women had tears down their cheeks, bodies exhausted with the tension and resistance to the punishment. Briefs were peeled down the ladies' thighs exposing scarlet cheeks glowing hot, and inflamed. Vulvas had bubbled over, the soft folds sprinkled with the dew of lust. Kneeling between her thighs, the Captain examined their beauty with eager eyes. Roving fingers explored the coated lips, seeking out her bud of delight. He then put his mouth to the slick lips, pressing his tongue against the warm wetness. Polly writhed with pleasure; whimpered with delight as her roused body was probed by stiffened tongue. Marina was similarly scrutinised and tasted, wriggling her bottom against the tongue of the First Officer. Unable to resist the craving of his arousal any further, the Captain stood, dropped his trousers, hauling from the boxer shorts his turgid weapon. His First Officer did the same. Together, they placed the heads of their cocks at the entrance of the women's inviting shrines. As one, their hard shafts sank deep into the slippery passages, to the gasps of shock and delight of the women as their vulvas stretched to receive the huge invaders. The two men began their rhythmic thrusts in and out of the tight vaginas, wallowing in the enjoyment of taut muscles gripping their shafts. Polly and Marina groaned. Vaginas filled with hard penis, pushing hard at the altars of their shrines. Watching the event, the two stewards were again at full stretch. After a quick glance at each other, they moved to the front of the arm-chairs. Lifting the heads of the women, who supported themselves on their forearms on the sides of the arm-chairs, they presented stiff cocks to their faces. Polly and Marina took the chocolate-coloured bars deep into their mouths, sucking and licking, whilst their vaginas were ravished by quick savage lunges at the other end. The painful burning in Polly's loins washed through her nerve endings, heightening the excitement of sexual arousal. Her muscles tensed. The coil of frustration tightened. Her loins trembles and shuddered. The shout of triumph behind her, the sudden burst of sperm in her passage, the several thuds against her sore buttocks, brought on her own orgastic surge. It enveloped her senses, sending currents of agony through her. At the same time, the dam burst in the phallus between her lips with another cry of victory. It jerked deep into her throat, erupting its spouts of sticky sperm. She heard vaguely the cries of Marina as her friend's orgasm ripped through the spare body, impaled on the huge spear of dark male muscle. Before her cries were ended, Marina's violator yelled his discharge into the sweet tightness, crashing his rough groin against her slender, bruised buttocks. Polly's African Adventures Ch. 05 After they had recovered, the men zipped up their trousers as Polly took a sip of champagne, swallowing the cocktail. 'That was enough to send me into orbit, Captain. Thank you for showing us your gadgets and how they operate.' 'Well, they certainly work better when fully submerged in the channels designed by nature for them. Even so, it's always a pleasure to help satisfy the ladies' taste buds as well.' As lunch time approached, the Second Officer and the Engineer were invited to join Polly and Marina in a cocktail. Polly sat on one of the sofas with the Second Officer beside her, whilst the Engineer joined Marina on the facing sofa. The Steward served their Martini's without any tell-tale expression. He was totally professional in his attitude. Both men were good conversationalists with perfect English. Polly's companion turned the conversation tentatively to sex, to see how Polly would respond to his overtures. Feeling a bit more confident, he confided in Polly. 'Women seem to enjoy my company.' 'Why?' Polly asked him. 'Have you got a large cock?' He smiled at the unexpected question. 'I like to think so,' he responded modestly. 'Ah, but do the ladies like to think so?' 'Is size important to you?' 'Absolutely! She's a liar who says otherwise. Small cocks are no use to me. Let me feel!' Without further ado, using both hands to undo the waist fastening and the zip of his trousers, she pushed her hand into his groin. His face showed surprise as her hand buried its way into the opening, fumbling for his cock. It was there, thickened but not fully swollen. Polly lifted it out to look at its dark appearance jutting out of a mass of black curls. 'Hmmm! Not bad!' she cooed. Her fingers trailed lightly up and down the shaft, rousing it to greater heights until it stood thick and proud. He looked at it with pride showing in his smiling face as Polly calmly peeled back the foreskin, wrapping her slender hand around it to masturbate it. Her male partner grunted with instinctive arousal! Following her lead, Marina was similarly engaged with an equally obliging companion. The stewards, busy cleaning up, glanced over from time to time to see the carnal activities. 'Yes! It's quite a good size!' Polly kidded, watching the fully engorged monster thrusting itself impatiently in her pumping hand. 'The only question is,' the Second Officer said, 'if your cunt is big enough to take it all.' Pausing in her stimulation, Polly sat back in the sofa, hoisted up her hips to ease her panties down her legs, before slipping them off. Lifting her skirt she knelt across her companion's hips, took his hard cock in one hand, pressing it to the portals of her secret orifice. Her vulva lips were fat and wet. She slid herself onto the thick projection with a long sigh of relief. The Captain had stretched her folds beforehand, so that they now took in this monstrous weapon without discomfort. 'How's that? Push it in! Get it up!' she whispered urgently. Satisfied that everything was placed comfortably, Polly started to heave herself up and down, slowly at first, then faster. As her enthusiasm grew inside her, she bobbed up and own with relish. The spring of lust inside her was winding tenser and tighter. Preparing herself for the joy of orgasm, she felt the cock splash its riches into her. Just then she lost awareness as her own exhilaration swept to a climax, the orgasm slamming into her belly like an electric shock. With an intense whimper, her loins jerked wildly until the spasms finally subside. 'There,' Polly said. 'Are you satisfied?' On the other sofa, Marina was also trembling with orgastic spasms, muffling her cries of joy. The two ladies, satisfied and relaxed, buttocks still ablaze with stinging pain, visited the wash-room to freshen up and apply soothing cream to their reddened buttocks. 'How was yours?' Polly asked Marina. 'Big! And yours?' 'Enormous!' They laughed at the memories. ' I wonder if they are all so huge?' 'Well,' Marina reminded her, 'you remember what the steward said about the special attribute of his tribe. I can't wait to get there!' Following a light meal, they dozed contentedly for the rest of the flight. Polly's African Adventures As he tried to get to his feet, to retreat in the direction he had appeared from, there came a flash of movement. A second beast hurled itself through the air, front paws stiffened, outstretched. A half-tonne of beast brought the man crashing to the earth. The animal straddled him in the green undergrowth. The scream of terror changed into a loud, choking gurgle as the animal's teeth sank deep into the throat, tearing the wind-pipe. The first beast, having consumed the sponge-like morsel ripped from the groin, set upon the writhing body, severing a large slice of raw flesh from the buttocks. Polly was spellbound by the scene of horror being played out in front of her. Two smaller beasts now appeared from the undergrowth. They started tearing strips of flesh from the writhing limbs, muscles jerking in death throes. The warrior's cries were now silenced. Polly's dry throat could make no sound. The scream froze on her lips. It was then that she felt the cord binding her slacken. A soft voice whispered urgently, but barely audible, in her ear. 'Polly! Don't make a sound. Don't alarm the beasts. Slide quietly behind the tree and follow me.' Polly had never been more relieved to hear the sound of a human voice in all her life. She could breathe again. She would be able to slip away whilst the beasts gorged themselves on the remains of her captor. When they had had their fill, they would slink away, leaving the remains to the jackals of the forest, then the insects, until the bones were stripped clean, gleaming white. Soon, even they would be overgrown and no sign would remain of Kaldo ever having existed. Her rescuer was the faithful Dwindali. He was her mentor, her master and protector, provided by the great Prince Tontu, chief of the savage tribe of Mtonti. With great caution, breath held, the two crept away from the scene of carnage. Polly held onto the rope wrapped round the ebony, shining waist of the naked native. When they cleared the dense undergrowth, Dwindali hoisted the exhausted Polly onto his brawny back, carrying her back to the settlement. 'Not far, Polly. I believed Kaldo to be a faithful servant. But the sight of your innocence and beauty overcame him. The Kwali prize white women very highly.' 'He paid the price,' Polly said. 'I thought it was me the beasts would eat. He arrived in the nick of time to deflect the monster's attention.' 'And that would have been a death preferable to the torture and agony his tribe would have subjected you to.' 'Tell me.' And Dwindali recounted the sexual rites of the Kwali tribe; their base torture and abuse of the female body for the satisfaction of their lewd appetite and sadistic pleasure. Polly shuddered. 'Would they have done all that?' 'Aye. Kaldo was a reformed character, we thought. But his inbred instincts got the better of him. It was the sight of your innocent, violated body.' Marina was waiting for them when they finally arrived at the village. Dwindali's young attendants took over the nursing of the white woman, Marina helping. They prepared a bath of spring water, generously sprinkled with aromatic herbs, gently washing her body all over with the cool liquid. After drying her, she was laid on a low rattan table covered with dried grasses and soft green moss. There, she was massaged with oils and essences to help the healing of the bruised skin on her back and buttocks. As she closed her eyes and surrendered herself to the gentle touch of warm palms, her mind went back to the beginning of the adventure she had found herself in.