Hilary Irvine’s African Odyssey (2/5)

They marched north. To the slaves it was immaterial what direction they went. The only concern of Hilary was whether or not one direction might offer more opportunity for escape than another; and only time would reveal that.

The first day’s march was gruelling in the extreme. Although Mudada seemed interested in making sure that none of his prizes died while on the march, and allowed them plenty of water, all of his captives were on foot and he and his men rode horses or camels. The slaves were forced to keep up, and any one of them that lagged behind received a blow of the whip or was jerked forward by one of the other captives by the chain that connected them. As a result, all of the prisoners were exhausted and footsore at the end of the day. As soon as the procession halted for the day, they all slumped to the ground, but for the fair-skinned one amongst them there was to be no rest that night...

Hilary felt a cold lump in her stomach as she was cut out of the line. The iron collar around her throat was removed, but her hands remained bound behind her back. There wasn’t much she could do about it. Two men took a firm grip of her arms and hauled her off to Mudada’s tent. It was the largest in the camp.

Inside the slaver chief was waiting for her, seated on a heap of cushions. Hilary was escorted to the villainous brigand and then they were left alone.

Mudada gloated over the woman whose fate he held in his hands.

“Special treat for you!” he jeered in his fragmented English, “You get to be Mudada’s pony! Ride you good!”

It could Hilary a moment to understand what Mudada had said. She gasped in horror when comprehension dawned. The fat Arab saw the fear in her eyes, smirked in satisfaction and moved closer.

Hilary turned her head away from the villain. His breath stank and Hilary had never seen any of the slavers take a bath or even wash. She shuddered to be at the mercy of such a revolting thug.

“You proud?” asked Mudada with false sweetness, “Too proud for simple bandit?”

“Ah!” Hilary gasped as the flimsy material that had covered her from the sun was ripped away.

Now she was naked. Bound and naked.

“I change that,” continued the Arab, “Make you whore!”

His hand moved to lightly touch her left shoulder, caressing the white skin.

“So much beauty…,” he drooled, “Men in England must be mad to let such beauty leave their land!”

He walked round behind her. Hilary steeled herself not to turn around. She would not dance to his tune.

He came round to in front of her again. As their eyes met Mudada licked his lips.

“Mudada gonna like riding you!”

“I am a British citizen and a BBC employee. If you return me to civilization you will be rewarded!”

The words came out of Hilary’s mouth in a breathless torrent. She cursed herself for not sounding more confident.

“I said I am a Brit-aw!”

Mudada’s hands had thrust out and grabbed Hilary’s breasts.

“These like ripe melons…,” he grinned as he squeezed, “Me like!”

Hilary tried to breathe slowly and evenly. She could feel her lower lip trembling but she must not panic. There was always a chance of escape if she just kept her head. She strained her arms, testing her bonds. The ropes holding her wrists had been well tied, almost cutting off the circulation. In time she could probably get loose, but she doubted that this vile pig would give her much time. She suppressed a cry as his hands descended to her loins and a large finger was thrust between the lips of her vulva.

“You no virgin,” Mudada said, not as a question but a statement of fact.

“If virgin we keep you nice!” he was smirking now, “if not you be nice to me!“

With surprising quickness the Arab slaver seized Hilary and dragged her to the pile of cushions. Panting, he shoved her down so that she was on her back, stood up and began to remove his clothing.

Hilary kept her cool even as the smell of the brigand’s unwashed body filled the tent, but her skin crawled at the thought of being touched by him. Her revulsion increased as he open his robe and dropped it to the rug floor of the tent. He was far from a pretty sight, being somewhat heavy of girth. Folds of fat jiggled about his stomach and chest. Hilary tried not to look below his stomach. To her frantic fevered mind if she couldn’t see his…thing…it might not exist, he won’t use it on her, she can go, get some sleep and wake up to find this was all a nightmare.

The ‘thing’ that Hilary was desperately trying to wish out of existence was now in Mudada’s right hand… and getting bigger. The leering Arab stood for a moment, gazing down at the naked beauty shaking on the floor. As slave master his cock had sampled a different woman every trip, it was his right. But this piece of meat was in an altogether different class. Bursting with pride, he looked down at his throbbing manhood, then again at Hilary.

She, unsure of what the silence meant looked up at him.

Their eyes met.

Hers full of fear, his full of lust.

Then he pounced.

Mudada seized Hilary’s shoulders and held her down as she squirmed beneath him. Gleefully he slobbered over her fabulous breasts, paler than any he‘d ever seen.

“No-No!” his victim shrieked as he bit down on her left nipple.

His mouth moved to her neck and he nuzzled the delicious flesh. Hilary was bucking wildly, desperate to throw this beast off her. But her bound wrists rendered her incapable of fighting him off and his bulk had her pinned down.

‘Oh God!’ she thought, ‘surely someone will come to save me!’

Mudada was chuckling. The white woman’s fight was making this even better than he could have dreamed. Now to business…

“No!” Hilary shouted as Mudada moved between her thighs.

Twisting her body, she tried to close her legs, but the bandit was already between them. She could do no more that clamp her legs about his thighs in a vain effort to keep him from taking her.

Mudada laughed in delight. This Western woman was so full of fight! He had never

seen a women so defiant. He was used to black African females who screamed and pleaded, but usually gave up without a struggle. This fair skinned lioness was something else again. He could not remember when he had ever had an erection this hard.

He let her struggle for a while. She was wonderful to watch as she fought to escape, her large breasts bouncing erotically. Sweat covered her body giving it a fine sheen in the dim light of the oil lamp. Finally he could contain himself no longer, and gripping

her hips he thrust into her.

“Arghhhh!” Hilary screamed.

Not so much in pain, but because of the horror and humiliation of being violated. She had done everything she could to try and stop her assailant and it had been for nothing. He was forcing his way into her, parting her vulva and penetrating her fully.

“Uh-uh-uh!” grunted Mudada as he pounded into the white woman’s writhing body as she fought desperately to get him out of her.

“NO-no-no-n…,” Hilary gasped as he humped deeper and deeper into her.

After awhile she stopped her struggles. She had lost, and she realized that her doomed resistance was simply making her violation all the more enjoyable to the fat, sweaty pig between her legs. She lay still, closed her eyes and tried to contain her tears.

Unresisting, Hilary Irvine let the Arab slaver rape her.

With a long grunt, Mudada came. As she felt his muck spray inside her Hilary let out a small sob but nothing more. Mudada smirked as he pinned his victim down by her shoulders and pumped his hips into her. Up until the end, the white woman had been very special, but he had broken her - as he knew he would. Now she lay still, denying him any more pleasure. He grinned his crooked toothed smile as he pulled out, got up and looked down on her. She was shaking and trying to stop herself collapsing into sobbing.

It would be interesting to see how this white beauty reacted to the rest of the night‘s activity...

Chuckling Mudada went pulled back the flap of the tent and called in Arabic to one of his men.

“She is ready for you. I think you will find her most entertaining!”

The man came into the tent and dragged Hilary to her feet. With a firm grip on her arm he pulled her out into the open evening air. Still in shock from been raped it took a while before Hilary realised she was not been led back to the other slaves. Confused she looked up ahead. What she saw made her almost sick with fear. Waiting for her was every slaver in the camp. Including the one holding it that made eight men in all. And every one of them fixed her with a look of undisguised lust, their bulges evident even through their heavy robes. None had fucked a white woman before and it was obvious that their first taste was going be of the juiciest quality.

Hilary could feel her knees trembling. Her stomach was churning fit to burst. She had foolishly hoped that her sexual degradation was over, at least for one night. But she now saw that it was just starting.

“No-n-n-no…,” the bound white woman stammered as the pack of Arabs swarmed towards her.

Whooping with savage delight they lifted her bodily and carrying her to a blanket near the fire. Dumping her on the ground, Hilary was pinned down while they untied her. This action confused the terrified woman and gave her hope for a second, until she realized that her chances of escaping from the clutches of these men were remote indeed. What they wanted was for her to struggle in order to add to their sadistic enjoyment. Gritting her teeth in determination, Hilary decided to deny them that pleasure. She might be forced to let them use her, but she did not have to provide them with any extra amusement. They could do what they wanted with her. She could not stop them, but she would not fight or scream.

That resolution lasted only a few seconds. As her legs were wrenched apart and the biggest and ugliest of the slavers moved between her thighs Hilary lost all composure.

“No! Nooo!” she shrieked in rage and fear.

Arching her sexy body she kicked and fought with all her might, lunging desperately against the many hands that held her. Her giggling captors let their beautiful victim thrash desperately as she battled hopelessly to avoid further violation, and then the man between her legs gripped her flexing buttocks and lunged into her.

Hilary screamed again as he penetrated her. It was not so much from the pain, but from the horror of having a dozen filthy, grimy Arab hands assaulting her. She was being pinched and groped everywhere they could reach. As the first rapist began to ram in and out of her two men began to suck on each of her breasts, while a third grabbed her hair and pulled her head back and to the side preparatory to taking her in the mouth. Hilary suddenly had the disgusting shock of seeing a fully-erect cock jabbed into her full red lips. She kept her mouth tightly closed, not wanting to taste any of it, but could smell the musky scent. Her world became focused on the dick an inch from her mouth. Focusing on it drew her mind’s attention from what was happening - or rather humping - between her legs and the soreness of her teats.

In the moonlight Hilary could see that the end was glistening with pre-cum. If she could just stop them fucking her face it would be a small victory…

“Aieeeeeee!” shrieked Hilary as her right breast was viciously tweaked.

The man at her mouth had grown frustrated and told one of his mates to help out.

Hilary’s cry of pain had amused the man at her left boobie. He thought he’d join in the fun.

“Arghh! No! Please!”

Suddenly her cries were curtailed as her screaming had given an easy entrance to yet another Arabic cock and her pleas were stifled by man-meat. As the hot cock filled her mouth Hilary wept the tears of the defeated.

Between her legs the biggest rapist was now pumping into her energetically, grunting in pleasure, his stiff cock completely filling her tight vagina. His thick tool stretched her cunt wide, and Hilary moaned in pain around the prick in her mouth as he slammed his hips down against hers over and over, fucking her into the sandy ground relentlessly.

Hilary sobbed around the prick in her mouth in despair, shutting her eyes tightly. She pushed her tongue against the cock in her mouth, hoping to push it out, but all that seemed to do was make the grinning rapist thrust faster. Suddenly Hilary felt the prick swell inside her mouth, almost choking her. She tried to pull back, knowing what it meant, but the Arab held his hand hard against the back of her head. He held her tightly against his hips, burying her face into his lice-ridden pubic hair.

“Ahhhhh!“ he groaned loudly in bliss as his penis flooded her tight throat with his cum.

He rammed his cock in as far as he could, forcing the white woman to swallow. She took as much as she could in her mouth, but some inevitably dribbled out her lips. He pulled out suddenly, leaving Hilary to gulp in air in relief, gasping for breath, her mouth hanging open, drool and cum slipping from her mouth and dripping down her chin.

The withdrawal of the man in her mouth gave poor Hilary a mere nanosecond of relief for now the rape of her vagina was reaching a climax.

“N-no…,” she gasped quietly as the rapist between her legs blasted his sperm deep into her womb, grunting in pleasure as he filled her body with his jism.

Tears streamed down Hilary’s cheeks, as the beast rammed himself in again and again, pumping his foul cum further inside her defenceless body.

When he had finally finished Hilary’s head lolled back - to be greeted by another cock been stuck into her face. Closing her eyes in utter despair Hilary felt her legs been pushed apart once more. The sensation of been entered soon followed. The assault on her boobs continued thru-out.

Hilary gave up. These monsters could do what they wanted and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to stop them.

The ugly brute at her face wasn’t content to let his victim take a passive role in proceedings. With a snarl of hatred he slapped her beautiful face and jabbed his prick still harder at her lips. Tasting the pre-cum on her mouth Hilary reluctantly decided that surrender was all she could do. Her lower jaw dropped and the filthy slaver was in. Even this wasn’t enough. The Arab yanked on Hilary’s hair until tears were flowing freely. Finally she got the message. Hilary sucked.

Hilary could feel the constant pounding of the other rapist's hips against her body, but was more concerned at the true sadist in her mouth. Dutifully sucking and slurping Hilary could hear the sweaty pig grunting in approval. Thankfully the cock soon twitched and sprayed. Fearing more slapping Hilary opened her mouth as wide as she could and swallowed. With a final satisfied grunt the man pulled out. As he did Hilary plumbed new depths of despair.

As cocks came and withdrew new cocks, erect and eager for white pussy or hot Hilary mouth work, took over.

As the night wore on, Hilary quickly learned what they expected her to do as she was raped repeatedly. When any one of the slavers offered her their prick, she speedily took it into her mouth and sucked on it dutifully. Swirling her tongue over their hard shafts, she reluctantly sucked lightly on them, desperate to make they cum quickly. They forced her to swallow as much as she could, but the amount of cum emptied into her became too much, and soon they seemed content to let it just dribble out of her slack mouth.

Between her legs each time a penis was pressed against her cunt, Hilary pushed back with her hips to take it in all the way. Once the thrusting started she rocked back, again to help them cum speedily.

Hilary soon lost track of how many men had raped her. Would it ever end, she wondered deliriously...?

She gagged as the man in her mouth ejaculated. Swallowing the Arab cum now seemed natural. Then another man took his place. Either side of her more men waited their turn, cocks in hand. The sight of Hilary’s fantastic white body been ferociously humped by their Arabic brethren was too exciting for some, who aimed to shoot their muck over her tits.

“Arghhh! No! No!” Hilary managed to scream as her breasts were viciously twisted by men on either side of her.

Deprived of the thrill of Hilary resisting their assaults some of the men were getting their jollies by becoming brutal.

“Help!” she shrieked, “Please! Someone help me!”

But no hero came to save her. The only response to Hilary’s pleadings was the chuckling of those assaulting her. The routine of double rape continued.

It went on most of the night. Helpless Hilary probably serviced the band of slavers at least three times each. She wasn’t sure. Everything became a blur after awhile. As dawn tinted the sky, she was led back to the other captives, staggering as she walked. Droplets of blood from her ravaged vagina traced a trail in the dry sand as she stumbled back into her place in line. Too beaten to care what was happening Hilary lapsed into a coma-like sleep.

Once he was sure the guards had moved off and settled down for the night one of the black African slaves crept over to where the violated white woman lay. She was sound asleep. Good. He leaned closer. Even after the brutality of been repeatedly raped (the sounds of which the man had thoroughly enjoyed) this Westerner was still a stunningly beautiful woman. He glanced around again, then gently pushed her legs apart. No response. She was too beaten to resist. So he got to work.

Thankfully Hilary was in too deep a sleep to notice yet another blast of spunk been pumped into her. She slept the sleep of the dead, not waking until the touch of Mudada’s whip jolted her back to life.

“Get up Eenglish bitch,” the slaver taunted, prodding her with the whip handle.

“You sleep long enough.”

With a barely audible whimper, Hilary dragged herself to her feet. She had never

felt so completely defeated. Almost crying with pain, she took her place in the

line. At a shout from Mudada the captives moved off.

------------------------

Hilary was at the back of the line, her wrists bound in front of her. More rope went from her bonds to a halter around the neck of the black man plodding along in front of her. Thruout the day the man turned round and winked at her. At first Hilary thought he was trying to keep her spirits up - the first kind act she had experienced for quite a while. However as the day wore on it seemed that his interest was salacious, which Hilary couldn’t initially understand. Slowly realisation dawned. The pervert must have witnessed the events of the previous night and found them exciting.

Been leered at by a fellow slave was bad enough, but the Arab slavers were worse. Whenever they rode near her Hilary could hear them talking and laughing. Though she spoke no Arabic it was humiliatingly obvious that their conversation was about her.

‘Comparing notes, the bastards!’ thought Hilary.

Soon after noon one of the them had the idea of riding behind Hilary and flicking his whip at the back of her thighs. Soon they seemed to be taking it in turns. A stinging hit drew a gasp and caused their target to stagger. But not once did she fall, and though her eyes became tearful Hilary did not break down. Despite the loud amusement behind her the bound white woman just gritted her teeth and endured.

This iron will took a knock late in the afternoon when one of the Arabs - the one who had so enjoyed pulling her hair the night before - rode up close alongside her. As their eyes met he growled at Hilary, stood up in his saddle and threw back his cloak to reveal his cock, stiff. Grabbing his manhood he spat some hateful words at her and rode off.

As she gratefully watched him go Hilary was struck by a horrible thought…

‘Dear God no! They’re gonna rape me again tonight!’

Naively Hilary had assumed that as every slaver had raped her repeatedly the night before they would be satiated. At worst they would assault one of the other female slaves.

This horrifying realization consumed Hilary as the evening drew on. The meagre food the slaves had been given was poor in quality but it wasn’t that which made her feel sick. Walking under the glare of the hot desert sun was exhausting but it wasn’t tiredness that made Hilary’s legs shake.

Darkness came and the camp was established, Hilary in deep funk as the animals were tethered and the tents erected.

What could she do?

There was nothing she could offer them. Pleading for mercy was evidently pointless. Escape was hopeless. At her lowest ebb Hilary contemplated suicide. But even that extreme course was impossible to achieve.

All too soon one of the slavers came over to where the captives had been herded. With a crooked smile he cut Hilary loose and pulled her to her feet. He whispered something in her dainty ear - something cruel no doubt - and hauled her off in the direction of Mudada’s tent. As she looked back Hilary noticed that the black slave who had spent the day leering at her was licking his lips.

Moving in front of her Hilary’s escort pulled back the tent flap and was pushed her inside. As before the slave master was sitting on a heap of cushions, grinning up at his unwilling guest. He turned to the other Arab, the smile dropped, and he ordered the man out. The man grunted and exited, but not before he groped one of Hilary’s peachy butt cheeks.

“Now we are alone, Eenglish.” Mudada smirked, stating the obvious.

He licked his lips as he approached the naked woman. She was trembling with fear. He liked that.

“Did my men amuse you last night?” the slaver smirked, running his finger lightly over Hilary’s shoulder, “you want same tonight, hmm?”

The memory of what she had gone thru 24 hours previously, the thought of been forced into a repeat performance terrified Hilary. Her breathing became short, her knees felt so weak collapse seemed imminent.

“N-no…,” she managed to stammer.

“No?” repeated her captor, “Are you sure? Tonight I told my men they could fuck your asshole. You sure you don’t want 8 Arabs up your shit-pipe?”

‘Dear God,’ thought Hilary, ‘Tonight will be even worse than last night!’

“Please…,” she stammered, defeat in her voice.

Mudada smiled as he moved back to his cushions. He sat down and leaned back.

“You be nice to Mudada. Mudada nice to you!” he grinned as he pulled back his robe to reveal his throbbing todger.

Hilary was beaten, utterly subservient. She took a deep breath and sank to her knees. Trying to blot out reality she took the foul Arabic organ in her hand, opened her mouth and moved to take it. To her surprise Mudada seized her hair and held her off. Her tearful eyes met his to see that there was not an ounce of mercy there. He just wanted a memory of a beautiful white woman on her knees, mouth open and ready to suck.

The hand moved down as the prick was jabbed upward and Hilary had cock in her mouth

"Suck on it, Engleesh bitch! Suck on it like you would a straw in a milkshake!"

Hilary flushed red, humiliated, but still she started sucking on Mudada's cock. She felt like a slut, like a cheap whore, but she had no choice. She continued sucking on him while he face fucked her. Mudada was moaning deep in his throat, his hands rubbing either side of her head as his excitement grew. He began moving more rapidly in his white captive’s mouth, moaning almost continuously.

"Oh, Allah! Oh, Allah you are a good little cock sucker!" Mudada moaned, causing a wave of shame to wash over Hilary.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she continued doing what she had to do to. Mudada was nearing a frenzy now, hurting her as he drove viciously into her throat, but Hilary kept sucking on him.

"Uuuuhhhhoooooo!" the Muslim moaned as he shot a thick wad of cum into the BBC reporter’s throat.

Hilary retched and fought down the urge to vomit again as she swallowed the disgusting fluids that Mudada repeatedly shot into her. His hand kept working her head up and down on his cock so Hilary felt she had no option but to keep sucking. Never had she felt so ashamed of herself, so disgusted with herself, as she continued sucking on that filthy, sweaty fuckstick. With a final shudder, Mustafa sighed and pulled his cock out of Hilary's mouth.

Her head sagged and she wept quietly.

When he recovered his breath Mudada got up, made sure his captive’s wrists were bound and went to sleep. His snores conveyed to Hilary the relieving news that her sexual degradation was over at least for that night. Somehow she drifted off to sleep.

The next day and for the following four days been Mudada’s whore revealed itself to have some advantages. Hilary rode on a horse and food and drink were, if not plentiful, sufficient. She was given cream to rub into her wounds which healed quickly.

The other men left her alone, working off their frustration at been denied hot white pussy by raping the Africans - women and boys. This improvement did nothing to raise Hilary’s spirits. Each day was just a long wait till the moment she was hauled off her mount, escorted to her master’s tent and forced to service his cock.

Mudada was a lazy fuck, content to let the white girl suck his dick. She was the slave, let her do the work!

Hilary hated herself more and more with each passing blow-job. She tried to convince herself that she had to do this to survive but every time that Arabic spunk slid down her throat death seemed preferable.

Sometimes she tried reasoning with her captor. Pointing out the reward he would receive if he released her. But he ignored her, content to enjoy nights of passion followed by the money he’d get by selling her.

Halfway thru the fifth day Hilary was taken to an oasis and told to bathe. After she was dressed in the best - or rather the least worse - robe that could be found and put back on her horse. Hilary was grimly aware that she was been readied to be moved on. Perhaps this gave her a chance to escape?

Hilary, Mudada and one other man rode thru the desert for a couple hours until they arrived at a collection of Bedouin tents next to an oasis. Hilary was hauled off her horse, dragged inside one of them and pushed to her knees.

“My God!” she gasped when she was finally able to look around.

Kneeling next to her were three other white women. Three nice-looking twentysomethings. One was wearing the outfit of an air hostess, another a shirt with the ‘Medicin sans frontieres’ logo. All had their wrists bound behind their backs. All were shaking and tearful.

‘What version of Hell is this?’ wondered Hilary.

An old Arab now entered, accompanied by several thug henchman. He studied the captive women, assessing them for his doubtless dreadful needs. Then he moved towards them for a closer gawp. Starting with the girl furthest away from Hilary he moved along the line. As he drew level with each woman a man behind her seized her hair and yanked her head backwards so the old Arab could see the face.

Hilary was breathing heavily. This was monstrous. Her life and her career had been the embodiment of the intelligent, independent woman in the twenty-first century. For such a woman to be paraded at this human cattle market was the ultimate indignity.

“Ahhhh!”

The old man was now standing in front of Hilary. As his craggy old face stared down at her Mudada had seized her hair and forced her face upwards. Hilary gritted her teeth. The urge for defiance was rising within her. The old man caught this hint of fire in her eye and peered closer. He had been inclined to disregard this particular infidel because though she was a rare beauty it was obvious that the fool of a slave trader had allowed her to be raped. Now it appeared she was still spirited…

“Oh!”

In an effort to clinch the sale Mudada had ripped off Hilary’s smock and forced her to thrust her jugs forward. She glared defiantly at the old Arab, hatred building within her all the time. His eyes did not meet hers. They were ogling the bounteous beauties that was her boobs. He licked his lips.

‘Enough!’ was the thought that flashed thru Hilary’s head, then…

P-Tooo!

The spittle hit the old lecher just below the left eye. There was a dreadful moments hush then all hell broke loose…

The old man was screaming at her, Mudada was screaming in her ear, the thugs were drawing weapons. Then Hilary felt a blinding pain on the back of head and darkness enveloped her…

Check out part 3!

Thanks to ASSTR for publishing.

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