Hilary Irvine’s return to the Dark Continent  (5)

 

It must have been a combination of exhaustion and the fact that she was at least somewhere that caused Hilary to drop off to sleep – it couldn’t have been from a feeling of security.

 

When the bound blonde awoke it daylight was streaming in thru the dirty windows of Tinga’s office.  She tried to rise and immediately felt the cruel, hard embrace of wire mesh on her bare arms and butt.  She sighed.  The subsequent breathing in was a mistake as the pungent aroma of sweat and piss assailed her nostrils.

 

In the next cage was the Arabic woman, similarly restrained. 

“Where are we?” Hilary asked in a whisper, “What will they do with us?”

“Doomed…” sighed the woman, “We is doomed…”

Then she turned and presented her back to the Westerner.

‘Well!’ thought Hilary, ‘That’s a negative attitude if ever I heard one!’

 

Tinga was also in the office, chatting on the phone and leaning back on his chair like a cheeky schoolboy.  Hilary hoped he’d fall over backwards but he was too skilled at this particular art.  He was jabbering on the phone in English but so fast and with such a strong dialect that Hilary couldn’t make out many words.  Numbers were been mentioned on a regular basis and occasionally Hilary could make out the word ‘blonde’ accompanied by a winking look towards her. 

 

Late in the afternoon Tinga picked himself up from his chair and waddled his short fat body over to where Hilary was caged.

 

“So,” he whistled thru his gappy tooth smile, “You were the Governor’s private fuck toy.  I bet he nailed yo juicy body every day...yeah…every fucking an’sucking day!”

Hilary turned her head away.  This wasn’t the sort of conversation she was keen on.  He evidently was…HHHHHHHHHHqd-Hialry ws completely ignored) HHHH

“But he chucked yo out, eh?  Strange, considering that yo body is still so ripe.”

This was accompanied by a bony finger poking thru the mesh to jab Hilary’s left booby.

“Wassamatter, Blondie?  Didn’t you fuck good?”

“Fuck off!” was her unladylike response.

Tinga burst out laughing.

“Feisty!” he chortled, “I really like you, Blondie!”

Then he leaned closer and lowered his voice to add…

“But tonight you’ll fuck good or die hard!”

 

“I won’t be good for anything unless you feed me!”

 

Chuckling, Tinga got up and went over to his desk.  There he picked up some bread and fruit, pulled it apart and threw the bits around the various cages.  Several bits made it thru the mesh of Hilary’s cage.  She wouldn’t give Tinga the satisfaction of seeing her grovel for food so waited until he was busy before leaning down as far as possible, extending her tongue and pulling nourishment into her mouth.

 

After it became dark the atmosphere changed, seemed to pick up.

There was a knock at the door and half a dozen young black men entered – Tinga’s henchmen.

 

“Ready for tonight, gennelmens?” Ting asked without turning round.

They grunted sounds that suggested assent then one of them stroked his chin and moved closer.

“Wiv been tinking, Boss-man,” he mumbled, “Bout dis bonus-thingy…”

“You’ll all get some, you’ll see!” answered Tinga, complacently.

“Yeah, but, ding is…like…”

“Can we bang the blonde?” piped up another grinning hopefully, “Bang her hard!  Bang her now!”

 

Tinga turned round slowly and fixed the guy with a withering look.

“You wanna bang that?” he said jerking a thumb towards the caged Hilary, “Then you wait yo turn!”

“But-“

“No buts!  You wanna fuck pussy then fuck that black!  She got plenty last week and is gagging for more today!”

This was directed at the poor naked Negress in the corner.

 

There was a moment’s pause then the men shuffled out, freeing and escorting the black girl with them.

‘Gang rape postponed!’ thought Hilary.

 

A few minutes later and light suddenly filtered thru the cracks in the wall that adjoined the main part of the warehouse.  Hilary leaned close and found she could see inside the cavernous building.  At first it appeared empty but gradually the young men filled it up with chairs and tables.  To the right Hilary espied a stage-like structure.

‘An auction!’ she thought, ‘They’re going to sell us like cattle!’

The sound of groaning drew her gaze downwards.  She could just make out the black girl – on her knees and sucking cock.  To Hilary’s disgust as others worked the men took it turns to fuck the girl’s face before sauntering back to the job at hand.  Work progressed slowly and in a relaxed manner.

 

Now Hilary could see them trundling in some barrels over towards some larger tables.  A bar!  What next?  Washroom facilities?

 

What was next turned out to be a metal frame bed, topped with a lousy mattress.  This was placed in the middle of the stage.

‘Not an auction...’ surmised Hilary, ‘Some sort of sex club?’

 

The erection of the bed ended this part of the evening’s activities.  Doubtless while waiting for whatever was to come the men gathered round the naked black girl and took turns.  Whilst those that weren’t currently emptying their muck into her various holes commented on the performance of those who were.

(Hilary tried to block out of her mind the belief that for a woman been repeatedly raped the girl was been a mite over-cooperative.)

 

About 30 minutes later the audience was left in.  To Hilary it was no surprise that they were all men – about a hundred or so.  However something else did create a surprise…

“Good God!” she gasped out loud.

For in amongst the throng of Africans were a handful of white men.  In ones and twos and accompanied by blacks.  At first these all looked nervous but their colored friends engaged in such jocularly bonhomie - slapping their backs, laughing at their jokes, buying them drinks – that soon they were as relaxed and raucous as the rest.

 

The reason for the increasing noise level was soon apparent.  Despite her energetic efforts to please the black girl was now swinging from the ceiling by her ankle.  Stark naked.  Whatever was holding her was elasticized as men took it in turns to grab her wrists and pull her down to groin level.  Clearly her earlier dick sucking was going to continue thru out the night.

 

“Ladies an’ Gentlemen!” boomed Tinga’s voice thru a microphone, “Welcome to the latest of ol’ Tinga’s party nights!”

The old man bounded onto the stage as the audience whooped their greeting.

“Yep!  Tinga’s party nights!” he continued, “Where boys have a good time and girls get loads!”

(This accompanied by frantic pelvic thrusting)

“Lets start with yo favorite, Mr. Jokey Jones!”

A fat man in a ghastly yellow shirt waddled on stage and started yammering so fast that Hilary couldn’t make out what he said but the shrieking guffaws of the watching men told her what he was – a stand-up comedian.

 

There was a noise behind Hilary and she turned to see the other three girls been pulled out of their cages.  The Negress and the Arab seemed to be accepting their fate, but the petite oriental girl made to struggle.  Her resistance was in vain as she was half the size of the two Africans holding firmly onto her arms.   Off they all went, leaving Hilary alone.

 

Downstairs the ribald humor of Mr. Jones ended and Tinga popped up again, giving the fake laughter of the tackiest compere.

“Thank you Jonesy!” he began, “But I reckon these fellas are here for more than laughs!”

Cries of ‘Yep!’ ‘Sure thing!’ and ‘Bring it on!’ could be heard from the mass of beer-guzzling men.

“You want flesh!”

Whoops of agreement.

“Then lets meet the MEAT!”

 

To an accompaniment of whistles, cheering and basic animal noises the three captive women were brought on.

 

Spread out across the front of the stage were the Arabic girl, the Oriental and the African – all shaking to various degrees and staring at their feet.   The audience quietened down as they watched, a quiet filled with foreboding.

 

“Nice ladies, dontch think?” grinned Tinga, “Lets see what they’re packing!”

Whoops of joy from the crowd.

But then a booming voice cut across the room.

“What the fuck is this, Tinga!”

Hilary strained to see a powerfully built middle-aged black man standing towards the back of the hall.

“I came here to see blonde meat a-fucking!  You promised!”

The mood amongst the men changed as many seemed in agreement.

 

“Friends….friends…” started Tinga smoothly, “The blonde is the main course!  These sluts are merely first course!  Second for those who had that,” he added indicating the girl swinging from the ceiling.

 

This placated the big man who sat down.

Once he had done so Tinga turned to the girls on the stage.

“OK Sluts!” he roared, “Strip!”

 

After a moment’s hesitation the black and then the Arab started to peel off their clothes.  Their fear and nerves made the process a slow one, increasing the titillation of the leering men.

The petite Oriental girl on the other hand was rooted to the spot.

“C’mon you yellow monkey!” spat Tinga, “Show us yer tits!”

Getting no response Tinga produced a whip that he swished at the back of the shaking girl.

“Strip!” he barked.

A command taken up by the male mob.

“Strip! Strip! Strip!” they bayed.

 

Either side of her the women were down to their underwear, where an understandable reluctance had kicked in.

“Please!” pleaded the Oriental with tears falling freely down her cheeks, “Please!”

Her eyes shot either side of her to take in the female flesh been exposed.

The threat of Tinga’s whip had persuaded the darker-skinned lovelies to stick their thumbs in their panties and push them down.

“Pussy” yelled someone in the crowd and chortling followed.

Now completely naked both girls instinctively covered their breasts with their hands.

“Dance!” chided Tinga, “Waggle those titties!”

Both girls moved about, arms outstretched, their boobs swaying nicely.

 

Between them the fully –dressed Oriental girl stood out like as sore thumb.

“Strip! Strip! Strip!” chanted the mass.

“Me virgin!” she suddenly shrieked.

This caused all a sudden hush to descend on the men.  The girl nervously looked around.  If she hoped her plea would grant her mercy she was mistaken.

“You heard her boys!” yelled Tinga, “She’s never had cock!  Who wants to help her out?”

In response several leering – indeed drooling – men surged towards the stage.

“Back!” snarled Tinga, “Back I say!  You know the routine.”

 

Reluctantly the men drew back into their seats as one of Tinga’s henchmen brought forth a small sack.

“Now then, gents.  I hope everyone placed their ticket in here ‘cos I’m about to make the draw.”

Confused and disconcerted Hilary watched as Tinga stuck a hand into the bag and pulled out a small ball.

“26!” he yelled out showing the ball to the men.

“That’s me!” screamed a man off to the left, raising to show the world his ticket.

 

“Then c’mon up!” grinned Tinga.

The man bounded forth, accompanied by the sour looks of his fellow audience members.  Once on stage Hilary could see he was black, about 30, something of the construction worker about him.

“Boys!” said Tinga to two employees, “Lets show our friend what he’s won!”

The muscular twosome leapt forward and seized the surprised Oriental girl from behind.  Before she could gasp in shock her top was ripped open, revealing her barely-formed breasts.  Pitifully she tried to cover herself  but as one man grabbed her waist and held her up the other tore down her trousers.   With a friendly nod Tinga indicated to the leering prizewinner that he could remove the panties.  Down they came to reveal a neatly trimmed Asian snatch.  The winner already had his pants down and his cock out but Tinga held him back and pulled the frightened girl round to face the audience.

“Untouched cunt!” he roared, “Who says ol’Tinga don’t put on the best shows!”

Roughly he grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the prizewinner.  Taking this as his cue he flung the girl onto the bed, leaping on top as she bounced up.  With the audience roaring their encouragement the man wasted no time in pushing her slim legs apart.

“NO! NO! NO!” Hilary could hear the girl scream as she begged to protect her chastity.

A final scream rent the air and Hilary knew he was in.  She saw his bare black backside humping away before turning away.

 

After several minutes of trying to block out the sounds of brutal rape below Hilary was surprised to see the door to the office open.  In walked one of Tinga’s men, the one who’d asked to ‘Bang her hard’ earlier.  He had a look of lust combined with furtiveness on his face.

“Getting lonely, Missy?” he asked, grinning nervously.

Instinctively Hilary knew he wasn’t supposed to be here.  After her African adventures so far in was obvious what he was after, but could this be turned to her advantage?

 

“I need a friend,” she breathed huskily, “Someone to be nice to me….”

Goggling, the man reached for the lock. 

Click and Hilary’s cage was unlocked.

Harshly than she would have liked Hilary was pulled to her feet and allowed to step out from the confines of the wire.

“Thank you,” she said, stretching some life back into her aching limbs.

He didn’t hear, all his attention focused on Hilary’s pert tits - milky white with nipples like ripened strawberries.

“If we could just unggghh!” Hilary gasped as the man sank his teeth into her left boob and started gnawing away.

“No!” she protested until a shriek from below made her hush.

Clearly one of the other women in the warehouse was now the main attraction.

The man worked his way over to her other boob, forcing Hilary to bite her lip to control her anguish.

 

Suddenly she was pushed against the wall and the man was between her legs.  It was dark but she could make out the glistening piece of light of pre-cum from the tip of his dick.  He pushed the top of her legs further apart, took a deep breath and… 

 

“What the fuck!”

It was Tinga with a couple goons behind him.  His entrance giving Hilary a flashback to Umbatu’s entrance the previous night.

 

The man between the stunned blonde’s legs was pulled away.

“You piece of shit!” snarled Tinga, “You fucking traitor! You think you get first go!”

Blam!

The gunshot shocked Hilary.  The sight of the man staggering back minus most of his penis shocked her even more.

Blam!

The second shot flung him back and put him down.

 

There was a moment’s silence as everyone in the room watched the life ooze out of the man on the floor.  Then Tinga turned to Hilary.

“C’mon, baby!” he smiled taking her arm, “It’s Showtime!”

 

Hilary felt herself been pulled towards the door.  She stepped over the corpse as she moved.  Glancing down it occurred to her that for the second night running a man who wanted her for sex was now dead. 

 

Outside at the top of the staircase the coolness of the night air hit her, giving her goose bumps.  A henchman took each arm and Hilary was marched towards ground level.  As she descended the sounds of bestial passion could clearly be heard from inside the warehouse.

 

Once on the ground Hilary was surprised to have a blanket thrown round her.  Another was thrown over her head, blinding her.  Hands reached thru the blanket behind her to unlock her cuffs, taking the opportunity to squeeze her bum as they withdrew.

“Go check he’s ready,” She heard Tinga say.

“Can’t someone else go,” whined a male voice, “He scares me!”

“Just do it!” snarled Tinga, “I ain’t in the mood for more staff problems!”

 

For several minutes thereafter Hilary and her unseen captors stood outside as the noise calmed down.  Then she heard a door opening just in front of her.   From a distance Tinga’s voice could be heard.

 

“OK Boys!” he said, “Time for the main event!”

 

Hilary felt herself been pushed from behind and entered the warehouse.  Where there had been male-accented hubbub there was now an oppressive silence.

 

“Ahh!” Hilary exclaimed as her toe bumped into the stairs leading to the stage.  At another push in the back she gingerly ascended.

 

“Look at her ankles!” shrieked a voice nearby, “There’s white meat under there!”

This set up a cacophony of sound – words indistinguishable, animal desire all too clear.

 

Hilary was stopped at a point she judged to be the front center of the stage.  Her heart was pounding, her body shaking.

 

The blanket covering her heads was whipped away.  Hilary blinked to adjust her vision against the sudden.   Now focused she gasped at the leering mass of mankind in front of her.  They’d abandoned their chairs and crowded the stage, a mere two yards away from where Hilary stood, shaking. 

 

There was silence, an oppressive silence that tightened Hilary’s chest, forcing her to remind herself to breathe in.  The room stank of smoke, sweat and testosterone. 

All eyes were on her, all lips been licked at the thought of what lay beneath the second blanket.

“You wants to rest the rest?” asked Tinga slowly.

There were a few murmurs of assent, mostly dull nods.

“Show us her tits!” yelled a man, breaking the tense atmosphere.

 

Then the blanket was gone and Hilary Irvine stood naked before a hundred drooling man-beasts.

See met their glare as best she could.

 

“If you scum think I’m gonna stand here and waggle my tits you can fuck off!”

   

With an animal roar the mass surged towards her.  Hilary stepped backwards and in panic looked around.  To both sides muscular young men barred her escape, behind was only the bed with its portent of her fate.  Some men made to leap upon the stage but suddenly there was Tinga swinging a stick to drive them back.  The men recoiled and sullenly waited for the opportunity to surge again.

 

“Ahhh!”  Hilary gasped as Tinga grabbed her hair and pulled her head back.

“Prime meat, eh boys!” he roared.

In pain Hilary couldn’t see the men’s reactions but their lustful whoops filled her ears.

“A top quality body like this needs to be fucked by something of quality, dontcha think?”

 

Hilary was released.  By the time she recovered her poise Tinga had withdrawn.

 

A low murmur filled the warehouse.  The murmur from the men grew in volume.

“Dong….Dong…Dong…”

 

Confused, Hilary looked about.  She could see nothing.  The relentless chanting pounded her brain. 

 

The mass of men seemed to look to Hilary’s right.  She looked and could make out a man approaching the stage and moving towards her.  He stepped up on the raised stage.  Hilary could see he was black and big, well over six feet.  Bald and barrel-chested.  Her eyes moved down….

 

“… oh dear God…”

 

Mankind comes in all sizes.  Most are average, some are bigger, some are smaller.  A few unfortunate souls are very small.  A few lucky souls are very big.  And every once in a while someone lucky so-and-so has something of freakish proportions.

And so it was with Dong, for swinging between his legs was what must surely have been the biggest dick in Africa.

 

He paused six feet from her and gave the smile of the simple-minded.  It was obvious he liked what he saw for Dong’s dong throbbed and rose up.  A jet-black beast glistening with sweat as it appeared to sniff out its blonde pussy prey.

“Dong….Dong…Dong…” was the cry that filled the air.

 

Hilary swallowed as hard as she could, given her dry mouth.

She knew, she just knew, what the beast moving towards would undoubtedly rip her open if it penetrated.  That if they ever found her corpse the cause of death would be listed as ‘Death by cock.’

 

With that in mind Hilary felt that only one course of action remained. 

 

She dropped to her knees.   That brought the chanting to a halt.

 

Accompanied by Tinga murmuring ‘Holy Anna’ Dong advanced on the kneeling blonde, cock growing all the time.   He, or rather it, stopped inches from her mouth.  The stench of the meaty beast almost overwhelmed Hilary, a hot heady mix of sweat, dirt and sex.  Gingerly her small hand reached out to the snake.  Saying a silent prayer she rose up on her haunches and planted a kiss at its base.  Her hand moved along the rod and she carefully lifted it up and kissed along the black shaft.

 

“The balls…,” Tinga breathed, “Lick his balls!”

 

Hilary moved her head closer, her nose almost rubbing along the cock as she leant towards the swinging balls.  If anything they smelt even worse but, fighting against gagging, Hilary stuck out her tongue and felt the hairy skin upon it.

 

Dong himself got to work now.  First pushing Hilary’s head back and then jabbing his dick against her cheeks, her mouth and up against her nose.  As it reared past her left cheek Hilary took it in hand and worked her tongue over, the cock responding to her sensitive touch.

 

Hilary couldn’t see the male audience but she could sense their contempt, their amusement at her humiliation.  She wanted it to end.   So she grabbed the cockshaft (her hand incapable of encompassing it all) and pumped away.  Not enough.  Very well.  In concert to the pumping she licked like she had never licked before.

“MMMMmmmm!” she moaned, “Cum for me!  More!  Cum! CUM FOR ME!”

 

Above her Hilary could hear Dong grunting.  His dick jabbed at her mouth.  If he tried to force it in…

“CUM!” she screamed, “fucking cum you-ahhhhhh!”

 

The blast of fuckslime hit Hilary in the face.  Though she’d begged for it, it still came as a surprise.  Spunk covered her face and sprayed over her bare breasts.  Big balls produced mucha spunk.

 

Dong held his sex partners’ head in place until he emptied his balls onto her.  Then he grunted and jabbed his deflating cock into her mouth.  At first she was too dumb to realize what was required but then got to work using her tongue to clean him up.  

This took some time but eventually the panting blonde was permitted to flop down onto the stage floor.

 

“You saw it boys!” chuckled Tinga, “Even the most stuck-up blonde bitch is a sucker for black cock!  A real sucker in this case!”

Guffaws filled the warehouse.

“Ol’ Dong has shown you how to do it!” he continued, “Now HELP YOURSELF!”

 

Hilary only had time to look up and mouth ‘Wha?’ before the men swarmed over her.  She was picked up by a dozen hands and flung onto the bed.  Working together the men got her how they wanted – flat on her back and legs akimbo.

 

Hilary tried to fight off someone as her wrists were pinned.  She tired to rise and…

“Arggggh!” she shrieked as a cock was rammed into her gaping pussy.

A further shriek has cut short by another stiff dick taking on her mouth.

 

The one in her pussy didn’t take long, but as soon as he was out someone else was in.  In and pounding.

Hilary felt herself choking on cum until the monster in her mouth withdrew.  Again he was quickly replaced.  Unable to immediately fuck her cunt or face may of the mass around her got their fun with her tits or even her feet.  Not fun in a playful way but in a sucking and even gnawing manner.

 

On and on it went.  Hilary Irvine was fucked relentlessly like a big sexy piece of meat.  She started feeling her mind slip away.  She wasn’t resisting or even crying now, just letting them do her, moaning quietly when she got the chance.  A stiff white cock at her face caused a moment’s focus.

“Fuck IT!” barked a voice with a strong German accent, “Suck!”

She did.

 

Hilary had no idea how long the rape continued but eventually there was an end and she was alone on the bed.  The mattress and her body drenched in cum.  Panting for breath Hilary was unable to move, only fill the soreness of her pussy and the stickiness of the pool of spunk clinging her down.

 

“Anybody here not fucked it?” she heard Tinga roar.

The absence of a further rape seemed to answer his question.

“Now onto the final event of the evening!  Check your tickets, boys!”

 

Hilary’s eyes rolled round in her head as she heard Tinga yell out the number 42.

“That’s me!” yelled a voice.

 

Groaning in irritation Hilary felt herself been forced over onto her belly.  Someone heavy sat on her ass as her head was allowed to flop over an edge.  Then that was yanked up so Hilary could see Mr. 42 bearing down on her.   Tinga handed him a machete and Hilary understood what his prize was.

“What’s the betting, boys!” yelled Tinga, “Reckon our friend here can hack off her head in one go?”

 

‘I’m about to die,’ thought Hilary, ‘I’m about to be decapitated.’

She never been religious so the thought occurred to her that it would be peaceful to place herself in a happy memory.

She remembered a time when she was about 8, at an auntie’s house.  It was a hot summers day and Hilary had run in and out of the passing lawn sprinkler.  She ran in, she ran out.  In and out.  Dark and light.  Life and death.

 

The memory of running about on the lawn continued.  Continued until Hilary was bored with it.  She looked up.

 

Mr. 42 was there, beside her.  A fat middle-aged black man with a sweaty baldhead.  The machete was raised high above his head and he was looking back.   He seemed nervous.  Hilary couldn’t understand why.  Then she could.  Holding back the arm of the machete-wielding would-be killer was Dong.

 

“Now Dong,” chided Tinga slowly, “Let our guest claim his prize.  There’s a good boy…”

Dong’s big simple face seemed to struggle with what to say but then…,

“Lady is nice to Dong.  Lady is my girlfriend.”

 

There was a moment’s pause.  Tinga shot a look of hatred at the big African then his face changed.

“OK, big fella,” he said with a false smile, “She’s your girlfriend!”

 

Satisfied Dong released his grip on the shaking man and Hilary felt the weight on her butt lifting.  Then she airborne and been carried off by Dong’s powerful arms.

“Take her to my office!” cried Tinga as Dong and Hilary made for the exit, “Get friendly like!”

 

 

About twenty minutes later Tinga was able to see the last of his guests out of the warehouse.   Tonight would live long in the memory of Lagos society.  The only fly in the ointment was the ridiculous antics of that lump Dong.

‘Lady is nice to Dong!’ indeed!

 

After Dong had left Tinga had been smart enough to bring on the black and the Arab for a little lesbo show to end the evening. (Cock-sucking for anyone who wanted it).   The Arab didn’t seem to object that much.  And wasn’t objecting much now to the three of Tinga’s employees banging her on the bed.  Tinga would make quite a bit of money from a girl like that.  She’d last several weeks. 

Unlike the black who’d been swinging from the ceiling.  Someone had the idea of slitting open her belly and painting the floor with her blood. 

The Oriental was dead as well.  Apparently fucked to death.  No loss there.  A girl should either fuck or fight.  Standing there doing nothing was no good for business!

 

Tinga went outside and headed up the staircase to his office.  Time to finish the blonde.  With any luck Dong would have fucked her death.  If not he’d quietly slit her throat and tell Dong she’d run off.

 

He got to the door and entered.

“Dong, my boy!” he announced, “You there?”

Strange; the light didn’t work.

K-RAKKK!

 

The bottle exploded in Hilary’s hand as she smashed it over Tinga’s head.   Down he went and he didn’t get up.

Stage two completed.

 

Stage one had been acting as mother to Dong.  Channeling his gropes into singing nursery rhymes and plying him with the contents of a whiskey bottle she’d found in the office.  Finally her lullabies had sent the freak off to sleep and she’d been able to gently ease him off her and make for the exit.  Just as Tinga started climbing the staircase…

 

Well now he’d been dealt with. 

 

Hilary peeked a look outside into the darkness.  Below could be made out the shapes of a couple vehicles.  Carefully she crept out and down. 

 

Now on the ground Hilary was relieved to see that the first vehicle she checked had the keys in the ignition.  Quietly she snuck in and tried to start the engine.  It turned over then died.  She tried again.  Same thing.

“Fuck it!” she spat, savagely turning the key and gunning the engine.

 

The car shot forward, straight thru the wooden fence and out into the street.  Hilary had just enough time to slam the brakes on before the car plowed into a wall.    Now stationary Hilary took time to compose herself.  Though it was dark she could make out where the city center was.  From there she could probably find the British embassy.  If she was lucky no one would be about on the streets and no one would try to stop her.

 

“Just let ‘em try!” she thought with determination, putting the car in gear and driving out into the African night.

 

 

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THE END

 

Thanks to ASSTR for publishing.

 

Any feedback to [email protected]