0 comments/ 39093 views/ 11 favorites The Naked Prey By: Laz110 The day had begun like any other day. At 6am the dawn chorus had woken us to make sure we wouldn't miss the glorious sight of an African sunrise. I never missed it, or the sun setting. It was something I looked forward to every day. Then I remembered where we were and why. 'Fuck!' Tom looked forlornly at the front tyres of the Land rover. 'One puncture is bad luck,' he said just like he'd done last night. 'But two is like bad witchcraft.' There'd been no point in just changing the one spare. We'd decided to wait until morning to try and find help. Both our cell phones had run flat so the only option was to leg it to seek assistance. We set off soon after breakfasting on bread and jam and water. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. It would be very hot in an hour or so and our reserves of water were sparse. The sweat trickled down our brows beneath our cotton hats. It was hard going. The sun beat down mercilessly. 'I'm dreaming of an ice cold beer,' Tom murmured after an hour-and-a-half's walking. It was mostly grassland interspersed with thick bush and it wasn't until nearly lunchtime when I spotted a thin wisp of smoke. 'Civilisation!' I said, pointing. It was sardonic. There's not much civilisation by Western standards in the bush in Africa. We headed towards the signs of human settlement, pleased we would soon be assured of some kind of assistance. 'I bet they'd give you a good time,' I joked, after we spotted a crowd of African women in the distance. Most were wearing modern-type clothes; tight jeans, slacks and skirts. Some of the abodes were square-shaped with corrugated tin roofs while others were round with thatched roofs. 'My wife will kill me if she ever found me straying,' Tom said. 'But you're more than welcome.' 'Sonia would do the same,' I replied. Although I liked African women my fiancée is the jealous type and any hint of hanky-panky and she'd be off like a shot. Besides I love her a lot and I hoped both the girls had by now raised the alarm about us missing. 'What the fuck...' Tom began to say as saw the black women grouped round a shape on the ground. Whoops of excited chatter, laughter and chuckling came intermittently from the females. What was actually going on was still unclear due to the shadow from the grove of mango trees obscuring much of what was occurring. We couldn't even see much of what was happening because of where the women were crouched or sat. There were about eleven of them. And they all looked like big black Amazons. What we saw next shocked me to the core. As we drew nearer I could see a black man partially hidden by the bodies of the black women. Although it was unbelievable it appeared he was staked spread-eagled, naked, to the ground. His ankles and wrists were secured to wooden pegs. Four women were each sitting on his arms and legs, with another one right on his chest, while the others crowded round. Then we were spotted. 'Mzungu!' shrieked a woman pointing at us. The others turned and cried out excitedly, 'Mzungus!' [Mzungu is the name given to whites by Africans. It is a term combining both admiration and distain at the same time, depending on the gender of the speaker. If an African female offers it the term leans more towards admiration than the latter.] Both of us sensed trouble at the same time. 'Something's very not right!' Tom exclaimed. 'Oh fuck!' I cried out at precisely the same time, then turning. 'Run!' I cried, terror gripping me like a vice. When you're scared and trying to run from danger your legs turn to jelly. But you've got to break through that and just go as fast as you can. I hared off, with Tom following me back the way we'd come. I was faster and Tom trailed behind. The women chasing us were far fitter and stronger-legged. Two dived at Tom bringing him down in a cloud of red dust. Three were gaining on me fast and as I turned to see how close they were I was suddenly swamped by three strong and muscled black female bodies. I hit the ground hard and before I could move anything I had two heavy black women sitting on me, with one tying my hands behind my back. They were grinning and chatting in Swahili, looking down at me with relish. 'We mean no harm,' I said in bad Swahili. 'Please let us go.' They ignored us, giggling and dragging us back to their village. We passed the crowd of women by the mango trees and saw clearly what was happening. What they were doing to him was unbelievable. The poor soul was helplessly pegged to the ground on his back, naked, and the women were taking it in turns to suffocate him with their hands. Whenever he turned a deeper shade of black the women screamed with delight. I couldn't believe what I saw next. One of the women sat her huge bulbous bottom right down on his face before he had a chance to breathe properly. They all thought this was hilarious. 'We'll have to get away from here,' I said to Tom, who was being dragged to a small hut no bigger than a large kennel. 'You'll get your chance, Whitey,' one of my Negress captures told me, grinning. It always surprised me when an African in a deep rural place spoke English. She was two inches taller than my six feet and her breasts and buttocks bulged ominously. Her hair was braided into streaks running across her head, tied into a tuft at the top. She had a permanent smirk on her face. I was taken to another kennel-type hut and locked inside. It was no more than four feet tall and I had to either sit or crouch. Peals of laughter and female chatter prompted me to see if I could see the events taking place outside through the cracks in the timber. The scene had changed. There was only one woman sitting astride the man. She sat heavily on his stomach, facing him, a foot placed on each of his helpless arms. The onlookers all looked on with a mixture of excitement, wonderment and amusement. The man's bloodshot eyes were protruding grotesquely while the grinning female firmly held both hands over her victim's nose and mouth. This went on for ages, with him squirming as best he could beneath her. Her strong hands held his head in an upturned position while all the time he tried to wrest his face from her tormenting palms. Peels of laughter followed his pitiful gaspings in between her smothering him. It was hot in the hut but not as scorching as outside in the open sun. Thankfully shade from some trees cooled the kennel, making it almost bearable. I sat on the hard ground, moistening my parched lips with spittle and busied myself with trying to untie my hands from behind my back. More shrieks of mirth caused me to peer through the slats. Now their victim had another Amazon squatting on his face again. This time she was facing his frantically flailing feet, grinning evilly at her laughing black sisters. Her backside was so big his entire head was almost obliterated. His futile struggles for survival brought even more merriment. This was barbaric! How could one human being treat another in this way? Frantically, I tried every way I could to free myself from my bonds. But the leather straps were too strong. I noticed my taller captor looking in my direction, smirking. My heart missed a beat. I dared not contemplate what was going to happen to me and Tom. As if drawn by some 'accident magnet', I couldn't prevent myself from observing the proceedings going on outside. The Negress torturess rose from his choking and gasping face, much to the mirth of the on-looking Amazons. Then I espied another African woman coming out of the largest of the houses. She was elegant and wore a white skirt which gently flapped when she move. Her wide hips and thick, muscled thighs indicated her bottom was going to be huge. From her demeanour I guessed she held a higher social status than the others. No one else had touched the still panting man since the woman's entrance, as if by a common knowledge of future events. The poor fellow had by now managed to regain enough wind to be able to loudly plead with his captors. I couldn't make out much because of my poor command of Swahili, but I knew he was begging for his life. The other women enthusiastically greeted the woman. Then my fears were confirmed. When she turned her back to stand over him, straddling his head, I saw the size of her bulging, onion-shaped bottom pushing tightly against the skirt. He wouldn't stand an earthly chance of survival against that backside. She grinned down at the shrieking man before crouching down to the cheers of the female crowd of spectators. Then, lifting up her skirt to reveal her vast naked posterior, she manoeuvred his head into a forced upright position with her feet. To my horror, she slowly sank down to obliterate his face with her black anal flesh. Then she settled herself more comfortably and occasionally wriggled herself to extract more pleasure from the experience. The Naked Prey Ch. 02 There was a part of me which didn't want to watch this barbaric spectacle, yet inexplicably I couldn't tear myself away from looking. The head-negress was thoroughly enjoying herself at the victim's expense. She was deliberately suffocating him by sitting on his face, much to the delight of her fellow sisters. This act of cruelty was exacerbated by her, every so often, shifting her buttocks so he could barely snuffle a minute amount of much-needed air before reseating herself. This persecution persisted for a considerable length of time. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. She was relishing what she was making him endure. I wiped sweat from my eyes and, although I'm not religious, I knelt and prayed that somehow this wretched man would survive this debauchery. She continued with this smother torture for much longer amid the laughter and chatter of the group of female onlookers. I couldn't control myself any longer. 'Let him go!' I heard myself shout, in a fit of pique. The Amazon with the permanent smirk glanced in my direction, grinning even more, and then returned to watch in utter amusement at this systematic torture. Her two friends who'd also helped to catch me appeared to have designs on me because they kept staring at my kennel too. I heard Tom kicking at the wood of his prison in frustrated anger, but to no avail. This was hardwood and there was no chance of escape. The smell of food wafted over from a large pot cooking over a jeko. [A round iron stove, heated by charcoal.] Then I witnessed the most extraordinary thing. She bent forward, raising her bottom from his blackened-purple face and turned, chuckling to give him an order. I couldn't quite make out the words but I knew that 'kiss' was amongst them. The poor guy was still gasping and choking in recovering his breath but she still barked out the command again. Humiliatingly she wiggled her vast backside in his face impatiently. He managed to lift his head just enough to be able to kiss one of her buttocks. She chuckled even more at this, and there came cheers from the black female audience. She barked something else and he immediately kissed her buttock more enthusiastically. What I was witnessing was the degradation of a broken man. It didn't make easy viewing. Another command came and he sobbed as he was forced to kiss her large posterior all over. Another command, and he slowed down and put more effort into caressing each inch of supple black flesh. This can't go on, I thought. This is inhuman. I began shouting for them to stop this merciless persecution, joined by Tom bellowing. Several of the onlookers leered in his direction and others, including the Smirker, gazed in mine. Then they grinningly resumed watching their debauched entertainment. What I saw next turned my stomach and made me lose all faith in human nature. The queen Negress bent forward even further, parted her bottom cheeks with her hands and demanded him to do something. I was shocked when he began licking the inside of her bottom, even deep inside the crack. 'You fucking bitches,' I shouted. 'Let the poor sod go!' Even the normally placid Tom swore at them too. Again we were ignored. They were too intent on something else. But what they were doing was absolutely outrageous. Many of the black females were fingering themselves; glassy-eye, gazing at the ridicule their leader was imposing on their defeated prey. More orders followed and he had to stretch his head even more to reach, whilst working his tongue-tip around her anal muscle, working her into a frenzy. I cringed as he forced his entire tongue inside her anal passage. Then she straightened up, looked up to heaven before sitting down fully on his face. She hissed something at him as he smothered beneath her voluptuous bottom. A gasp eluded from her throat and she arched her back in orgasm. I guessed she'd told the man to keep licking as he suffocated. She remained sitting on his face while he futilely writhed under her weight. Her pleasure appeared to grow stronger the more the wretched man smothered. What these savages was making him endure was becoming too much to watch. But this magnet of 'watching the unwatchable' was too strong to fight. She rose after a long time, just as his struggles grew weaker and weaker. Chuckling loudly, she looked down at him trying to recover, smoothing down her white dress, brushing off small patches of red dust. 'He's all yours, girls,' she said in perfect English, glancing first in my direction then in Tom's. Giving us a flip of the head so her ponytail flapped, she strode off wiggling her wide hips, her skirt swaying with her oscillating movements. The other black female tormentors were like a pack of wolves closing in for the kill. The next one to take up the smother-torturer's position was one of the ones who'd captured me. But this time she was sitting on his face with her back to his feet. She worked herself off on his squashed nose and gave him the same commands her head sister had given when she'd made him lick her bottom. She grinned down at his pleading eyes between her muscled thighs and then grinned in my direction. Intermittently she'd first enjoy watching him then she'd glance towards me. My blood ran cold. As the man heaved beneath her she drove herself into a climax that seemed to go on for ages. As soon as she'd finished with him another girl took her place. There must have been close to twenty-five females there, all wanting to defile him in this way just for their own perverted pleasure. It was getting extremely hot. I was so thirsty my lips were starting to dry. The girls who had finished using him for sex helped themselves to some food from the pot. They continued watching their sisters tormenting and degrading their captive, with much appreciation. 'I need water!' I called, hoarsely. The Smirker, who had finished having sex and was now eating, looked over. 'Water!' I cried out. Tom yelled too. It was many hours since our last meagre amount of water had run out. And in this confined space the sweat was pouring out of us. She reluctantly rose from her unfinished lunch and strolled over to me. Unlocking the kennel's door, she stood in the entrance, turned her back and dropped her jeans. A prominent, vast black bottom now filled the gap, looking exceedingly aggressive. 'You want water then kiss my bum, Whitey,' she said bossily above me. The amount of room where I was being held made it hard for me to back away. The bulbous backside was so close to my face I could smell its bummy odour. This was the last thing on earth I wanted to do, but my throat was parched. It wouldn't be long before I hyperventilated from thirst. 'Hurry up, or I'll go,' she said. I couldn't even swallow my throat was so dry. Leaning forward, I placed my lips against a large bottom cheek and tentatively pecked it. 'Kiss it properly!' she demanded, swinging her posterior in my face. 'And I want it all over.' Fighting through the feelings of humiliation, I began kissing her vast anal flesh, disgusted at her sounds of pleasure. 'That's lovely, keep going,' she said, smirking even more down at me. If this were going to enable me to quench my thirst I would endure this sadistic indignity. 'You're a good kisser,' she chuckled. 'Please can I have something to drink now?' I asked. 'That was good practise for you,' she informed me, pushing my face away with her bottom and redressing. 'Now you can have some water.' Locking the door, she ambled away, to return minutes later with a tin plate with some ugali [African doughy maize-bread] and chicken broth and a small jug of water. She pushed them in under a small gap in one of the side walls. I saw Tom was getting the same as me from another female. 'Wait,' I said, just as she was leaving. I could see her through the slits looking down at me impatiently. 'Well?' she said. 'Can you let us go?' I ventured. 'We can pay you lots of money and we'll forget all about this. If you let us walk away we'll pay you well.' She threw back her head and barked out a laugh. 'We've got your money, cards and everything else anyways, mzungu,' she said. Then she added ominously: 'It's not just your money we're after.' 'You can't do this to white people,' I continued. 'Our government will send people to look for us.' Giving out another laugh, she wiggled back towards her awaiting chicken stew. She deliberately emphasised her rolling buttocks purely for my benefit, to instil even more trepidation within me. And it worked. I was dreading what fate was going to befall me and Tom. It was several hours later when the last of the villagers was taking her turn to suffocate their prisoner by sitting on his face and making him give her oral sex. It was surprising but by now, after witnessing this type of diabolical treatment for the best part of the entire day, it seemed I was becoming immune to their selfish pleasure seeking and cruelty. It had, thankfully, begun to get cooler. It wouldn't be long before the sun would start to go down. Tom called out something to the gathering, a request for the toilet. Minutes later we had our doors unlocked and we were each led by an Amazon to the latrines. These were like the English outside toilets we had in the 50's, mostly up North. But with these you can't sit down, you have to squat and aim for the hole. There were three 'huts' side by side, and the third is always a shower room. Our guards untied our hands, holding the long leather thongs like whips, then stood chatting outside. 'Do you believe what we're seeing?' Tom voice whispered through the dividing wall. 'We have to escape,' I whispered back. 'I tried to bribe them but they weren't interested.' 'We'll make a run for it when we get out,' he said. 'Okay, but this time run faster,' I said. I heard a laugh. I went on: 'There's only two of them and we've got a better chance.' 'Did you know the guy they're torturing is a thief,' he said. 'Are they going to let him go?' 'I don't know. If they've done this to him I hope they will.' Our guards banged heavily on the doors, shouting at us to go out. The latrines were built on a raised concrete base, and as soon as we emerged we were high enough for it to give us enough leverage to both push hard at the chests of the women. This took them off-guard and unbalanced them sufficiently enough to enable us to leg it round the back of the latrines. Before us the scenery was mostly bush, with plenty of places to use as camouflage. When it got dark we could hide even better. We ran as fast as we could, scattering into the wild countryside. If we separated it would give us a better chance of escape. I managed to run even faster than before, dodging round bushes and trees to give no proper line-of-sight to our pursuers. I hadn't looked back at all because I didn't want to slow down, but when I finally did I panicked at how close the women had come. They seemed to gain speed all the time. What made it worse they were speedily followed by ten other Amazons, all baying for our blood. Now we were running for our survival. I dug deep inside of myself to give me that extra spurt and accelerated away faster. Tom was haring away about a hundred yards to my left. Then I saw his pursuer emerging quickly from being hidden by bush and was gaining on him fast. It was like watching a lioness chasing its prey. It was inevitable, I suppose, but in a matter of thirty seconds I saw Tom being brought down heavily. Then there were lots of them swarming all over him. I put my head down and kept on going for all my might. But I was beginning to tire, not sure how much longer I could keep up this pace. Then it happened. I heard her panting right behind my tail and a moment later I was down on the ground, the red dust exploding from my impact. The evening was filled with excited chatter and laughter as they secured my hands in front of me this time, plus my feet. They put my limbs through a long pole, and then lifted me up, and four of them carried each of us back like two freshly caught elands. It was strange and frightening being captured in this fashion in a procession going through the African bush. The sunset was illuminating the horizon, silhouetting forests and small mountains in the distance. It was beautiful to see. As I swayed from side to side hanging upside down I wondered if I was going to be able to see any more sunsets. The Naked Prey Ch. 03 It was dusk by the time our captors returned with us to the village. The Amazons hardly broke a sweat carrying two full-grown men secured to poles. Me and Tom couldn't see much in the fading light but I knew the Africans' eyesight was much better than ours in the darkness. A crowd of women were still amusing themselves by taking it in turns to suffocate the poor wretch. Some females were lighting a fire close by to where the prostrate man was still staked to shed more light on the centrepiece of their enjoyment. Paraffin lamps, dotted outside the houses, glowed to show the insects flying close by. The sound of crickets chirping in the undergrowth provided a background symphony to his sobs and occasional gut-wrenching gasps. Our carriers dropped both of us on the dusty ground and meandered off to find refreshments. All we could do was to lay there uncomfortably, forced to face the obscene spectacle of inhuman smother-torture. The village leader strutted from out of her house and barked at a couple of women preparing supper over a charcoal fire. Chattering loudly, they grouped all the women in a circle around their victim. There came a quietness, almost a strange stillness in the night air as the leader stood at his feet, hands on wide hips. Her white skirt fluttered in the gentle breeze. There was still one female who was unaware of what was going on around her. She was experiencing an orgasm by suffocating him and forcing him to lick her anus. The leader grinned and said something to her. She opened her eyes, reluctantly stood up from his face and found a space to sit and watch. The man looked up at her towering over him, his eyes wide and white with fear. He was so weak from hours of degradation and tormenting he could bearly move his head. He pleaded with her and the sounds of begging he made were pitiful to hear. She grinned down at him and in a trice her skirt came off and was thrown to a woman to catch in the crowd. Her mighty black body shimmered in the flickering flames and I'll never forget that look on her face. It sent a chill of ice shooting down my back, even in that hot African evening. The sense of atmosphere told me something extraordinary was going to happen and my premonition was about to be confirmed. I glanced at Tom and his look of horror matched my own. She ambled slowly along the length of his body, her eyes gleefully scanning her prey, revelling in his whimperings. Then she stood over his shoulders and studied his stricken face, her eyes fixated with his. After a moment she crouched down to squat on his chest. Then she slipped forward and her vagina rubbed against his quivering chin. Like some glorious actress before her audience, she smiled at her black sisters before sitting fully on his helpless head. Her voluminous body smothered his groans of despair, while she settled her bottom to obliterate his face. Only his forehead and eyes could be seen. They were rolling around, big and bulging as she captured his nose inside her pussy. The smell of the earthy ground made me realise the poor wretch had been lying in that dirt all day. These bitches had made him lie there all that time while they all took turns to use him in their perverted sex games. Now it was all about to finish. His struggles were hardly visible; just the occasional insipid straining of bound ankles and wrists at the pegs. The sight was pathetic to watch, yet it was impossible to look away. She manoeuvred herself to bring her legs out straight before her so she was now sitting full-weight on his face. Then she wriggled her hips to grind her bottom deeper into his squashed face, her own a picture of delight. The spectators looked on enthralled, laughing, chuckling and some open-eyed, mesmerised. She gave him absolutely no quarter. There was not even a glimmer of mercy in her face, just perverted pleasure at what she was doing to him. Every second seemed like a minute. It seemed like he had been suffocated for a very long time. Perhaps his lung capacity had been stretched with so much torture he could now hold his breath for several minutes. Every so often she'd wriggled his nose into her cunt and gave a little gasp at the sensation it gave her. She kept on doing this until he made one last desperate attempt to break his face free, guttural noises emanating from beneath her. Then she closed her eyes and bent forwards slightly as the crescendo of her orgasm overcame her. Gently rocking her vulva into his nose she milked the climax for as long as she could while the victim began to die under her mighty body. I glanced at Tom and we gave each other a look of terror and both looked away from this debauched spectacle. As the seconds ticked by we again soon became drawn like magnets to look, but only looking at it as a sideways surveillance. I quickly evaluated that the audience was enraptured by the sight of their village leader using their prey's face as a means of suffocating him to death. He didn't stand a chance. This bitch was killing a man before our very eyes just because she enjoyed it. She was loving it, every second, every moment of making him suffer beneath her. A few of her sisters cheered, some whooped, and others groaned as if in some kind of shared deeper, licentious pleasure. His body began to jerk quite a bit while every ounce of his survival fibre fought against the certain and inevitable conclusion. The head, black Amazon took a sharp intake of breath as the last strains of his life-force drained from his worn, tired and abused body. She gasped a few words in her mother tongue and howls came from her sisters as if in total She remained sitting there for a while, her posture straight whilst smearing and grinding his face with her overwhelming backside and pussy. Then it was over. The she slowly raised her black voluptuous frame from her victim. The sight was hideous to see. He lay there in the red dirt. Tortured, tormented, smothered, suffocated, used and abused. A man had died just because these evil bitches from Hell had greatly enjoyed sitting on a man's face until he suffocated so much they took his life. I felt sorry for what they'd done to this man, even if he had been a thief. His eyes bulged grotesquely, his tongue still protruding from where she'd forced him to perform even as he was dying. It suddenly hit us both of what our fate was going to be as the leader of these black Amazons began to look at us and strutted over. Grinning down at us, she spoke good English with a faint African accent: 'Mzungus, you have seen what us ladies in this village like doing to men.' She paused, as if for greater effect. 'Tonight we will prepare ourselves and pray for what happens tomorrow.' I swallowed hard. Is that our fate? To be smothered to death by some muscled Amazon? I don't mind admitting I have never been more afraid in my entire life. She continued grinning and speaking: 'Tomorrow you will become our prey and we will hunt you. And whoever catches you they will have you.' I could have been wrong but I suspected I heard a faint tone of lust in her voice. She went on: 'Tonight we will pray and celebrate and you will witness what we do to guards who don't do their job.' She shouted something in her natural language in the direction of a house. Four women pushed out our two guards we'd escaped from. Both women were naked, tethered with their hands behind their backs, with worried looks on their faces. They were thrown to the ground and a horde of excitable women scrambled to hold them down and sit on them. Within seconds they were covered in black female bottoms, crushing and squashing them. A woman took pride of position on each of their prisoners, smearing their backsides into their captives' faces. As me and Tom lay there watching yet another debauched scene I couldn't help but wonder if I would live to see another sunset, just as the last tip of the dying red sun disappeared over the horizon. I was woken by the very near and very loud crowing of a strutting cockerel. That sound, and the barking of dogs, are the most common noises in Africa. Dawn's early light filtering through the netted widow showed a small tidy, sparsely furnished room. It was hot, even for that time of the morning. I sweated all night. Now I was thirsty. I was bound, semi-clothed on a not-very-comfortable bed, with my fellow captive Tom beside me. We had a mosquito net covering us, hanging from a rafter like a mini bell-tent. I assumed they wanted us disease-free, or else they'd have let us be infected by the most proficient killing machine of all insects that only bites at night. Ironically, the gender of the mosquito that carries the malaria parasite isn't the male. It seems the female of the species is much deadlier than the male. Last night the female savages had spent several hours amusing themselves with the guards. Failure brought its own just desserts in this place. The crowds bullied the two women into performing cunninglingus and analingus by enforced smothering. The cockerel squawked again. Before I had a chance to wake Tom up to exchange information an Amazon burst through the door. 'Come!' she said, wrapping the net into the shape of a dangling ball. She pulled us both off the bed and was joined by another large female; my nemesis, the smirker. 'We are to get you ready for the games,' she informed us. Tom and I exchanged glances. Games? 'Come and toilet then eat,' she said, smirking even more, dragging us, with her assistant's help, outside. Later, they tied our hands together in front of us, gave us some sort of hot porridge in mugs while we sat on the ground watching the village come to life. A few goats were tethered beneath a tree and chickens roamed freely, pecking at anything that looked edible. Women were busying themselves with washing dishes or clothes or having their breakfasts. With our hearts pounding, we watched the head of the village enjoy her breakfast outside her house with a few friends. She often glanced over to us, said some words to her companions, and raucous laughter then followed. In fact most of the women would cast us momentary lecherous leers at some point during the course of the morning. The sun was very hot and directly above us when events took an ominous turn. The women began organising themselves into two groups dressed only in thongs and bras. I got very frightened when a couple of spears were produced. They were laughing and joking amongst themselves and becoming excitable. 'This could be it,' I said to my friend. 'I hope it's quick,' he replied dryly. They looked a fearsome sight. A horde of black African females, muscled, tall and strong. Several Amazons came over, yanked us to our feet and pulled us towards their leader. 'Mzungus,' she announced. 'This is a good day for the village. Today you will take part in the games to find a wife. It is a happy day for us because today two of us will find a husband.' Jesus H! They weren't going to kill us but marry us instead! Tom's eyes were dazed when he looked at me. We both knew what this meant. These crazed females were looking for a man to do all the foul sexual deviations they enjoyed most. 'But,' she went on in her good English, 'you will have a chance to escape.' Laughter and hand clapping came from every woman present. 'You will each throw a spear,' she explained, 'as far as you can, then you will run.' She looked around at her black sisters with a huge grin on her high cheek-boned face. 'Then,' she paused for effect; 'we will chase you from when you reach the spear and the first one to catch you wins you.' There came deafening whoops and cheers. When they calmed down she added mischievously: 'To do whatever we like with.' They loved that. The noise of their excitation went on for several minutes. Then the games began. Tom was to go first. He was untied, stripped naked and a spear was thrust into his hand. A few women urged him to throw it, in Swahili, others showed by indication. 'Good luck, mate,' I called. When he was ready he took the stance, raised the weapon and ran a few feet before launching it as hard as he could. Dozens of pairs of eyes followed its path through the air as it sailed towards the open ground. It was a good throw. It landed a good thirty yards from where we stood. 'Go!' they said to him, pushing him. He legged it, accelerating as fast as he could. Please make it, I thought. Please don't trip. Just make it to freedom. He ran well. I've never seen him run so quickly and I was glad to see him pick up speed as he flew past the embedded spear. Immediately he passed the marker the first group of about twenty women set off in hot pursuit. The village head wasn't among them and I also couldn't see the smirker. Then I spotted both of them in the remaining group staring at me with wide grins. They, like the rest of their group, could barely take their attention from the pursuit, only managing to ogle at me briefly in anticipation. So it looked like I'd been especially selected for one of these women to become her smother slave. A shard of fear shot right through me just at the thought. Tom was making good headway through the open grassy plain. He was becoming a pinprick and I calculated he had a chance before his pursuers caught up if only he could make it to the distant hills. For no particular reason I wondered why they hadn't put me into the 'games' so far, then it struck me why not. They were waiting for the return of the first group before they set off after me because they couldn't trust the first groups' women to not partake in the second chase. African women, like most races of women, can be very artful when it comes to them wanting something badly. My group of women chatted, hooted, whooped, jumping up and down excitedly, revelling in the atmosphere. Their large, muscular black female African protruding buttocks seemed to me to be ominously threatening in some way. I prayed Tom would make it. That also gave me a better chance, too. The Naked Prey Ch. 04 Any hope I had that I'd get out of this situation had begun to fade. They'd only been gone a couple of hours. Now they were back with Tom. He could barely walk and was supported by one negress. I guessed it was the female who'd caught him. The returning group was congratulated by mine, then the winner was cheered by all of them. The queen began to organise them in her mother tongue and they all formed a semi-circle round Tom and his captor. The leader joined them. The rest is just a blur. They performed some kind of ceremony and before I realised he'd been married to the victor. Her name was Mary and she was two inches taller than him, had enormous breasts, muscular body and her African bottom stuck out a lot. I knew the type of Hell Tom was going to endure. And soon it would be my turn. I watched in a daze while Mary dragged him inside her house. It was pitiful to hear, through the window, my friend pleading with her. Then would come the silence and you couldn't hear anything apart from her laughing, or chuckling. Afterwards came his gasping and pleas. It went on like this until I was stripped down and we started to position ourselves to the forthcoming race. This was going to be my only hope. This was a race for freedom. I felt so vulnerable standing in the searing sun stark naked, surrounded by twenty or so athletic black females. The excitement and tension hung like electricity in the air. The smirker was behind me, feeling my white skin with a lecherous smirk. The leader and others felt me in admiration, touching and prodding, all with a licentious intention. Then a spear was thrust into my hand and they indicated what I had to do. Mary's orgasmic shriek, heard just above the chattering women, cut into me like a knife. I had to do well if I'd get some sort of chance. Balancing the javelin in my right hand, I ran forwards three long steps and flung it as hard as I could. It seemed to sail through the hot air, but it was slightly lopsided and its direction was not as good as I intended. It made about forty metres, sticking limply in the grass. 'Go!' the crowd cried. I ran as fast as I could. The noise from them increased as they became more frenzied. Just as I passed my spear I instantly knew they were chasing me. I dare not look back, I just had to keep going, heading for the hills. I'd have a better chance there to hide. In the cloudless blue sky the sun was directly above. The heat bore down on me. A short distance away my pursuers' cries of excitability died down after a while. I ran for an hour before stopping for breath and just allowed myself the quick risk of looking back. I was glad to see the forerunners were probably at least a minute behind me. They were just far enough to be unable to recognise, but I bet the smirker was one of them. My breathing was laboured, even after the second wind. Allowing myself just a few seconds to recover, I darted off as they suddenly got closer. The thought of my wife waiting for me spurred me on. I tried hard to keep the images of what they'd do to me out of my mind. I wanted to just keep running for as long as I could before collapsing. When you seat in that heat you lose a lot of moisture. There was no water until I reached the mountains. The threat of dehydration tugged at my remaining resources. Another hour on and I was close to exhaustion. But by now the small mountainous range loomed large before me and was but a few minutes away. I had to pause again to catch my breath. A quick glance told me they were gaining fast. They were less than thirty seconds away. Again I headed off, making for the tallest peak to the right, where a forest looked like bunches of broccoli along the rolling hills. Somehow I managed to make the woods and rushed manically onwards, pushing myself to the limits. Crashing past trees, I lumbered on, deeper and deeper into the foliage. By a stroke of luck I came to a large-trunked Camwood tree. It was the best camouflage around. They passed me by one by one, where I remained unseen until the last of the stragglers jogged past. It was another couple of hours later that I managed to completely evade the persistent Amazons. I'd have to find shelter soon. It would be dark at seven, just like every day of the year here. And it's not safe out after dark, especially in deep rural. After refreshing myself at a small waterhole, I trundled on, skirting high up on one of the hills and saw a small town, about a two hour's walk. It wasn't until I reached the southern part that I knew I'd been here before. It meant I knew someone here who could help. That was the first stroke of luck I'd had Her house was up one of the many dirt roads leading from the town centre. I was close to utter exhaustion by the time I got to the large compound. Entering through the iron gate, I called out through an open widow in the main house: 'Aquino!' She came out, an astonished look on her pretty face. 'Uncle!' she cried, giving me the usual double cheek peck of a greeting. 'I heard from Aunty you were missing. Come in and eat and tell me all about it.' Aquino is African, early twenties, slender and very bright. She's our adopted niece, being part of an extended family. I hadn't seen her in over a year since last time we came to Africa. By the time we'd eaten and chatted I was involuntarily dropping off. 'Come, Uncle,' she said, taking my hand. 'You can sleep in the spare room.' I must have slept for only an hour when I was awoken by someone entering into my room. I lay quietly on my back, wondering if it was my niece how I was going to let her down nicely. Or if it was someone else I might have a bigger problem. It was pitch dark and I could only just make out, through the mosquito net, a shape moving, I tried to straighten up as quietly as I could. Then I tried again but I couldn't move. My wrists and ankles were immobilised in some way. Suddenly the flaring light of a match was followed by the glow of a candle. 'Aquino!' I exclaimed. 'Hello, Uncle,' she breathed seductively, brushing back the net and entering inside. 'Look, Aquino,' I spluttered, 'I'm very flattered... but ... I'm your uncle for goodness sake... I...' 'I've come to help you,' she said. 'I sighed in relief. 'Of thank God for that,' I blurted. 'Can you undo these things,' indicating my straps. She took off her nightie and straddled my stomach. Perplexed, I looked at her smiling down at me. 'What are you doing?' I asked, puzzled. 'I thought you were going to help me?' 'Her smile grew into a grin, as she reached down to cover my mouth and nose with her hands. 'I am, Uncle' she tittered. 'I'm going to help you to suffocate.' It was impossible for me to fight her off. I tried to move my head this way and that for all my might, but I was weakened from the marathon chase and lack of sleep. Her wicked smile in the flickering candlelight told me she was delighted at being able to make me suffocate. 'I've longed to do this to you, Uncle,' she chuckled. 'My friends told me you'd escaped and I was so disappointed that I wasn't going to be able to come and visit you in their village.' The strain of being smothered was causing pain in my chest and lungs. She let me snort in some air through a nostril then re-sealed her grip on my nose. Disgusted, I noticed her nipples were erect. She was revelling in my torment. 'It is lovely doing this to a white,' she sniggered. Just before I began passing out, she released her grip. I desperately coughed and choked air into my severely deprived lungs. Then to my utter amazement she turned round and squatted over my face, her bulbous bottom pressing into it. My cries of protest became muffled as she sat down. Skilfully, she guided my head into an upright position with her feet, her weight squashing down to submerge my entire countenance under her backside. My nose stuck right up into her crack, while my mouth was plastered by her vagina. 'Lick me, Uncle,' I heard her say. There was an edge to her voice I'd never heard before. 'Lick me,' she said again. 'Or I'll suffocate you so very much.' It's rather like being caught in a vacuum, with your lungs desperately searching for replenishment, yet being denied. And the one who's in total command of your breathing is purposely preventing you from inhaling the faintest breath by sitting on your face. Its gnawing agony of air deprivation on my lungs was bad enough, but to suffer the indignity and degradation of having someone's bottom on your face as well was the worst humiliation I've ever experienced. And you can't get away or do anything about it. And she's just loving it, wallowing in every single second of your suffering. She wasn't getting off so I decided to lick. As soon as I did I heard her breathing go all heavy and slow. 'That's it, right there,' she breathed, wriggling slightly to better feel my nose against her anus. She let me suck in a little bit of air with the slightest of movements but only through my nose before reseating herself. 'Lick it harder,' she directed. I could tell from her breathing and tone of voice she was close to achieving an orgasm. This was hell on earth to me. How could she do this to me, make me do these terrible things? My tongue worked around her clitoris, while all I could see above me were the moons of her buttocks squashing my face. Then she shuddered and kept on saying: 'No... no... noooo...' Just as the darkness of unconsciousness tugged at my head, she raised her bottom to allow me to breathe. 'Now kiss my bum,' she commanded, grinning down at me over her shoulder. I did as I was bid, I could do nothing else. 'In the crack,' she told me in her English accent. I'd paid for that accent, sponsoring her to take a degree in sociology in England. It seemed like another world now. My lips caressed her bottom-crease, bringing moans from the back of her throat. Then without notice she sat back down on my face to suffocate me again. This was the worst thing in the world. How did she think she'd get away with it? I heard her laugh gleefully while I struggled at my leashes in a futile bid for freedom. I couldn't even wrench my face away from her dominating backside. 'There's no getting away, Uncle,' she tittered. She stayed smothering me for a while longer, eventually raising her posterior just a few inches above my mouth. She laughed at my strained gasping, purposely keeping her bottom near my face to accentuate her dominance. What she said next made me sick to my stomach. 'Now lick my bum, Uncle,' she breathed, parting her bottom-cheeks with her hands to reveal her anus. 'Or I'll suffocate you again,' she said, pre-empting my hesitation. Tentatively, I prodded her anal muscle with the tip of my tongue, bringing more gasps of pleasure from her. Lick it properly, Uncle,' she ordered. I worked my tongue around her anal muscle until the anal sphincters opened up in readiness for the next stage of my humiliation. 'In deep,' she said hoarsely. It's impossible to describe my humiliation, the shame I felt at having to do this to my niece, a much younger female who had complete control over me. The moment my tongue entered into her anal passage she squealed with delight. 'More,' she hungrily urged, 'more!' The texture of her bum-hole was alien to me. I'd never experienced anything like it. But at each stroke of my tongue in an effort to gain depth brought extreme cries of ecstasy from my tormentress. Her anal passage became wider from my ministrations, making it easier to probe my ensnared tongue as deep as it could go. 'Keep sticking it out and keep it like that,' came her next throaty command. Before I knew it, she was pumping her bottom-hole up and down on my tongue. She was using my tongue to fuck her anus! 'I'm going to use you a lot tonight, Uncle,' she wheezed, working her bottom in the direction in which she could derive the most pleasure. 'And there's nothing in the world that can stop me,' she giggled. Sitting down on my face again to cut off my air supply, she wiggled her posterior on my face to emphasise her superiority. Then she stayed sitting on me for a very long time.