Filename: Haremd.txt Title: Harem'd Author: Knickers Universe: Nicola Adventures Keywords: MF, FF, M+F, exhib, interr, reluc, anal, spank, humil, Mdom, bd, mc? Summary: Nicola and Angela are kidnapped by an African prince and whisked away to join his harem. Disclaimer: The following story contains sex scenes and rude words. It's fairly tame, and I'm pretty broad-minded, but the decency laws in most states would require it not be read by persons under 18. Also, if you're offended by adult themes, you should probably leave now. More importantly, this tale features women presented as sexual objects. There is nothing wrong with this as they are only fictional characters. I urge readers, especially young males, to not regard real women in this way. This work is © 2003 the author. Permission is granted to freely distribute, provided it is not altered in any way. It may not be posted to any website or included in any archive without the author's permission. There is no Nicola. All characters are fictitious. The situations are made-up. This is only a fantasy, and any similarity to real persons, events & institutions is pure coincidence. The "Nicola Adventures" are a series of erotic stories about an Australian model- turned-actress who travels to Hollywood to find stardom. Author's note: This is the 20th and final Nicola Adventure. It isn't necessary to read all the previous stories to follow this one, but it wouldn't hurt. Visit the website /~knickers . As well as all the episodes, you'll find author's notes, reader feedback, and movie reviews. Harem'd (MF FF M+F exhib interr reluc anal spank humil Mdom bd mc?) If there was one thing Nicola enjoyed, it was posing for the camera. Preferably wearing as little clothing as possible. The gorgeous Aussie starlet loved being the center of attention. She reveled in the admiring gazes of the men standing around watching her, as she ran through a variety of cheesecake poses for her cameraman. On this particular assignment, Nicola had been jetted out to exotic North Africa. There, on the sparkling sun-drenched sandy beaches, the starlet was posing for a raunchy photoshoot, dressed in nothing by a tiny little pink bikini. The top was just two slips of material held against her exquisite breasts by strings. The bottom was a thong that barely covered her pussy and completely failed to cover her ass, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. Smiling happily to herself, Nicola reflected upon how great her life was. It was nearly a year since she left her native Australia, coming to Hollywood to pursue an acting career. In that time she'd been transformed from a conservative model who wouldn't even pose in lingerie, to a jiggly party girl who regularly stripped bare-ass naked either for work or play. Nicola had appeared in a number of raunchy movies, naughty TV appearances, and revealing photographs. But it wasn't just at work Nicola took a relaxed attitude to her wardrobe. She had a reputation for having fun and any event that boasted her as the entertainment was bound to be hot. The busty Aussie beauty sure knew how to put on a show. In short, Nicola Baron was a sex fantasy come to life. She rolled around on the beach, sand sticking to her damp, bare skin. Nicola had a golden all-over tan which she carefully cultivated with nude sun-bathing sessions, preferably in public places. Basking naked in the sunshine was one of Nicola's favorite hobbies, especially with an audience to ogle her. But it hadn't all been fun and games. Nicola had made a deadly rival in Hollywood: Angela 'Angel' Monroe. Tall, slim, athletic, the raven-haired beauty had been the bane of Nicola's stay in Hollywood almost since she arrived. Recently, their relationship had cooled off somewhat, but Nicola knew that Angela still disliked her. It didn't help that they always seemed to be working together. Like on this modeling assignment. As Nicola posed by the sea-side, Angela sat a short distance away. Dressed in a skimpy black bikini, the starlet stared moodily into space, carefully maintaining her aloof persona and ignoring the crowd of European tourists and African locals who had turned out to watch the free T&A show. Nicola wondered if agents and producers didn't deliberately book the couple on jobs together, gleefully watching the sparks (and clothes!) fly whenever they were around each other. "OK Knickers, that's a wrap," said the photographer. Nicola barely realized she'd been working, for her it had just been an afternoon's romp at the beach. Nicola stood up and wiped the sand from her thong-covered bottom. Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of Akumba, their African minder watching her with a big grin on his face. "Enjoying the show?" Nicola teased him playfully. "Oh, most excellent," he replied in his cultured English accent. The burly black man eyed her up with a look Nicola recognized as lust. Smirking, she set out down the beach, adding a saucy wiggle to her nonchalant saunter just for his benefit. Nicola entered the small tent that had been set up for the girls to change clothes (it was there on Angela's insistence, Nicola was happy to change in public) and stripped off her bikini. In a moment the starlet was naked, baring her golden body. She bent over, rummaging through her clothes and wondering what to wear next. Suddenly, the nude starlet heard someone moving around outside the tent. Angela? No, she would wait for Nicola to finish before getting dressed. It must be Akumba, getting an eyeful again. Well, thought Nicola, her ass still poised in the air, never let it be said that Nicola Baron doesn't know how to put on a show. She lingered in this position, letting the horny bastard enjoy himself a while longer. No sooner had Nicola stood up straight than a hand clamped around her mouth and nose. She gave a gasp of surprise and felt the scent of chloroform assault her nose. Then the world went black and the naked starlet fell to the ground. ********** Nicola awoke to feel herself being gently buffeted. The starlet quickly took stock of the situation. She was on a light aircraft. She was naked except for a pair of white high-heels. Her hands were bound behind her back with cord. And next to her lay Angela, likewise naked and restrained, snoring. This is not good, Nicola thought to herself. She rolled over to try and look into the cockpit to see who her kidnapper was. A dark face caught sight of her squirming around and broke into a grin. Akumba. "Welcome back, gorgeous. You're just in time, too, we're about to arrive at our destination." "What are you doing?" Nicola demanded. "Where are you taking us?" Before he could answer there was a thud as the plane touched down. Angela awoke with a start, groaning. "Where are we?" she asked, peering bleary-eyed around the small cabin. Akumba was more intent on taxi-ing the aircraft to a halt. Once they had stopped he jumped out of the pilot's seat and made his way back to the rear cabin. "Terribly sorry," he said (though he looked more amused than apologetic), "but I'm afraid you ladies have been, to coin a phrase, 'harem'd'." "Harem'd?" yelled Angela. Before Nicola could inquire exactly what that meant the door swung open and several hefty black guards burst into the plane. Dressed in turbans and billowing silk pants, their bare chests glistening with oil and scimitars strapped to their waists, their antique appearance caught Nicola by surprise. The guards unceremoniously hauled the naked starlets to their feet and directed them out of the plane. As Nicola stepped out onto the tarmac she felt a wave of moist, humid tropical air wash over her nude body. Things were going so fast her head swum. As the grumbling Angela exited the plane, Nicola took a deep breath and tried to orient herself. She had been kidnapped and stripped of her clothes, taken to some unknown location. If she was ever going to get out of this she had to keep her wits about her. Waiting to greet them was a short, fat black man dressed in flowing robes. "Akumba!" he called out, "Good to see you again." "Pumbo, my old friend," Akumba greeted him in return. "It's been too long." Pumbo cast a lascivious eye over the girls. "And what do we have here?" Akumba clamped a hand over each of their shoulders. "Another American. Breasts are a little small, but its good to have a little variety." "Hey!" Angela squealed indignantly. "I'm an American citizen! And a movie star! I demand you release me this instant!" "A movie star?" Pumbo raised an eyebrow. "What have you been in?" "Well," Angela suddenly sounded a little subdued. "I was in, uh, 'Undercover Cheerleaders'..." she trailed off, a little embarrassed, obviously realizing that shaking her pom-poms in some nudie movie didn't exactly make her a movie star. "...and, ah, 'Bikini Quantity Surveyors'..." "Never heard of them," said Pumbo blankly. He switched his attention to Nicola, giving her a long look that could be described as 'undressing her with his eyes' if it weren't for the fact that she was already naked. Nicola squirmed against her bonds. Having her arms tied behind her back caused her to push her chest out, making her 38-inch boobs seem even larger. "And who is this double helping of deliciousness?" Pumbo asked. "Australian," replied Akumba proudly. "Very rare." Pumbo nodded, pleased. "His Highness will be pleased. Bring them down to the waiting room, I'll break them in as soon as business is concluded." Break them in? Nicola's heart beat faster in her chest. What exactly did that mean? "Welcome to Malabunga, ladies!" laughed Akumba. He gave Angela a swat on the backside, causing the raven-haired beauty to yelp. "I hope you enjoy your stay!" With that, the guards led the girls away, Akumba's booming laughter still ringing in their ears. The two naked starlets were taken into a mercifully air-conditioned building, through wide, lavishly-decorated corridors that looked like something out of the Arabian Nights. Their high-heels clicked across beautifully patterned marble floors. The guards kept them hurrying along at quite a pace, and with their hands secured behind their backs there was no way to hide their luscious bodies from the inquisitive eyes of everyone they passed as they jogged by. "Where the hell are we?" Angela hissed. "Malabunga," Nicola replied. She'd always been good at geography in school. "Tiny nation in West Africa. First discovered by the Portuguese in the sixteenth century, became a British protectorate in the nineteenth. Government: absolute monarchy. Primary export: copper sulphide. Gross national product..." "Alright, alright, sheesh," grumbled Angela. "No talking!" growled Pumbo. Quick as a flash, something smacked across Nicola's bare bottom, causing her to squeal in pain. Angela was dealt a similarly indignant blow to her posterior, causing the bitchy beauty to squawk in unison with her rival. Rubbing their asses, the girls continued on in silence. At last they arrived at what Pumbo called 'the waiting room'. Obviously, Nicola wasn't expecting it to be like the waiting room at the dentist's. In contrast to the palatial hallways they'd just been through, this was very much a small, functional room. In the center stood two sets of wooden stocks. Nicola swallowed. The guards removed their bindings and then man-handled the girls into the stocks. Nicola was bent over facing the floor with her neck and wrists placed into cut-out sections on a crossbeam. Then a block was lowered into place, imprisoning her. The guards then splayed Nicola's legs and secured her ankles onto another crossbeam close to the floor. This left the Aussie starlet in a very vulnerable and indignant position. She was unable to move, hunched over at the waist. Strands of her long, chestnut-colored hair fell across her face and she had to arch her neck upwards to look at Pumbo standing over her. But worse still was her bare backside and pussy, exposed and open to whatever Pumbo had in mind for her. Nicola was beginning to feel more than a little uneasy. At least she had Angela with her, who was locked in a similar position in the other stocks. They had been arranged face-to-face so the two rivals could stare uncertainly at each other. Pumbo dismissed the guards. The pompous little man then began to strut up and down, examining the naked girls at his leisure. He ran his fingers through their hair, then stooped and squeezed a downward-hanging boob (doubtless noting that Nicola's hung down considerably more than Angela's). As he worked Pumbo would make the odd cluck of displeasure, or ooh in appreciation. Nicola burned at the probing. If he wanted to check her out nude, why didn't he just rent one of her movies? Or buy one of her magazines? Or go onto the Net? Or sit outside the balcony of her condo on a warm sunny day? Or... well, the list of ways to see Nicola in all her naked glory is endless. But she kept her mouth shut, her ass still smarting from the earlier assault. When he was finished with one end of Nicola, Pumbo moved on to her nether regions. Nicola held her breath as he prodded her anus, and then let out a gasp of shock as he slipped two fingers right into her pussy. "Mmm, good," he murmured. After completing the same procedure on Angela, Pumbo took up a position behind Nicola, outside of her limited field of view. "It is my job to ensure that the two of you are broken in, as it were, before presented to his Highness." This was followed by a rustling sound. Nicola craned to neck around to try and see what he was up to, but the stocks prevented her. "Believe you me, I don't enjoy this one bit, I'm really just doing my job, but I think you'll prefer to receive this from me first before the Prince gets stuck into you with his whopper." Nicola's eyes widened in shock as Pumbo slipped a finger into her ass. He was going to anally fuck her! Nicola had done many depraved things in Hollywood, but anal sex wasn't one of them. She squirmed as Pumbo fingered her sphincter. Well, thought Nicola, I ain't about to start now. Think, girl, think. Quick! "Oh, goody," said Nicola. "Yeah baby, fuck me up the ass." Pumbo paused. "You've had anal sex before?" he enquired gravely. "Mmm, I'll say," Nicola replied. "Loads of times. I just love it. Come on big boy, give it to me." She waggled her backside enticingly. "I'll bet, slut," murmured Angela. Nicola did her best to ignore her, concentrating instead on what she hoped would be the performance of her career. "And what about you, American?" asked Pumbo. "Me?" squealed Angela. "God, no, you pervert!" Pumbo let out a sigh. "Well, Australian, I guess my work on you is already done." He stepped out from behind Nicola and walked around the captured couple. Nicola could now see Pumbo was naked, his semi-erect penis jutting out obscenely from underneath his paunch. "Moving right along..." he said, standing beside Angela. She suddenly realized what was about to happen. "Hey!" Pumbo produced a red handkerchief and tied it around Angela's mouth, resulting in frantic mumbling from the starlet. Pumbo didn't waste any time in the discharge of his duties. A dollop of sweet-smelling jelly was liberally smeared into Angela's wildly clenching anus. Then Pumbo grasped Angela firmly by her imprisoned hips and rammed his cock home deep into her bowels. As Angela's face was only inches from her own and there was no way she could avert her gaze, there was nothing Nicola could do but watch in horrid fascination. The bitchy beauty's eyes bulged in shock as Pumbo plumbed her ass. Much as she disliked Angela, Nicola felt a small wave of guilt pass over her. Her little plan may've worked, but it put Angela right in it. Or rather, the plan had put 'it' right in Angela. Bending over her lustrous pale back, Pumbo grunted with effort as he vigorously buggered Angela, his gut slapping against her ass with every stroke. She let out a sigh against her gag, resigning herself to her fate, but letting out little moans and squeaks of discomfort from time to time. Nicola squirmed in her stocks. This was simply the beginning of their ordeal. It was time she started using her brains to get herself (and, she supposed, Angela too) out of this predicament before her ass was on the line as well. Literally! ********** Angela was walking a little bow-legged as they were once more marched down more corridors. The girls didn't speak, not wanting to risk another spanking from Pumbo, but Angela cast angry glances at Nicola the whole journey. Nicola knew she had for the moment escaped an ass-reaming. But at some point in the future of her captivity, her tender bottom would be exposed to an onslaught, if not from Pumbo then from whoever it was he served. She had to think of a way to escape before then! The guards arrived at a massive door made from polished copper that towered over the nude, quivering starlets. Pumbo produced a key the size of his forearm and unlocked the imposing gate. The two sweating guards set their muscle to it, and with a baleful groan the mighty door swung open. They were ushered inside a sumptuous apartment. Nicola gaped at the sheer opulence of it, overwhelmed beyond words. In her days in Hollywood she had come in close (very close!) contact with producers, gangsters and politicians, but never before had she seen such wealth. The floor was made from slabs of marble, inlaid with obsidian, jade and precious gems. Nicola couldn't see the walls, the room seemed to be surrounded in gently swirling silk curtains. The ceiling was a giant mirror, polished till it shone brilliantly and finished with gold. The air held a hint of rose petals and camphor. Light splashed languidly from a hundred flickering candles. The whole effect was one of sensual repose, of perfumed sighs, and cool, moist Arabian nights. If there was one thing that got Nicola's juices running it was displays of power and riches such as this. And this time was no exception, the horny little starlet feeling a familiar buzz rising in her loins despite the nagging fear of their situation. But as desirous as she was to meet the master of all this and spread her legs for him, Nicola didn't want to remain here a slave for the rest of her life. A loud bang snapped Nicola out of her reverie, and she and Angela whirled around. While the starlets had been staring about them, Pumbo and the guards had turned and left the suite, heaving the door shut behind them. Angela rushed to the giant portal and scrabbled uselessly against its beautiful facade, but there was no way to open it from the inside. "We're trapped!" she wailed. Nicola swallowed, waiting for whatever new torment was about to be thrown at them. The room was quiet, the only movement was the billowing curtains fluttering like silken ghosts in the cool breeze that wafted through the apartment. Suddenly, four figures became visible in the haze of gauzy drapes. Lithe, sexy figures, they moved like delicate angels through a world of soft delights. They were women. White women. Nicola watched, stunned, as the four beauties stepped out from behind the curtains that partially obscured them. They were gorgeous, visions of pure sexiness, dressed in wispy bits of cloth that did little to hide their bodies. Smiling, they approached Nicola and Angela. "Welcome," said one of them in a charming English accent, "to your new lives." "Excuse me?" Nicola asked, staring at the girl's nipples which strained against the strip of silk that served to barely cover her breasts. One of the others stepped forward. "You are now ze property of es 'ighness, Prince Seseke, ruler of Malabunga." Her voice had the sexy smooth tones of French. "Hey, I'm an American," said Angela sharply. "I ain't nobody's property." "Ah, a firey one," said a third girl, this time in the winsome voice of the Old South. "I once felt as you did, my darlin'. But now I know it is my destiny to wait upon my Master's cock." "Slaves," said Nicola grimly. "I knew it." "Slaves, yes," said the fourth girl. "But willing slaves." Her accent was Italian. This harem, Nicola realized, was a regular United Nations of pussy. "Perhaps we should begin with introductions," said the English girl. "And then explain. My name is Susan, and I used to be a stewardess." "I am Marie, au Francais. Wonze upon a time I was a travel agent specializing in adventure 'olidays in Afrique. Now, I am on the adventure of my life!" "Just like yawl I used to have a life before I came to Malabunga. I'm Charlotte, formerly of Georgia, now of His Highness Prince Seseke's royal harem." "And I am Isabella. Long ago I was a fashion model from Milano. But now I am less interested in what I want to wear than what my Master wants me not to wear!" Nicola cast an eye over the quartet of captured cuties. Had they seriously chucked in their lives to live here under lock and key, imprisoned to fulfill the sexual desires of this 'Prince Seseke'? "Whatever," said Angela, parking her naked bottom on a comfy cushion. "After all that walking I need a rest." "Oh no, no time to rest!" admonished Isabella with a waggle of her finger. "Her Highness the Princess Amaria will be here shortly to inspect you." "Wait, wait, wait!" cried Nicola, her head spinning. "Will someone please explain what is going on?" Charlotte smiled, like an adult smiling to a child who just didn't understand. "You've been kidnapped. Of course, you're upset, unwilling to stay and probably planning to escape. Believe me, we all did. But all that changed the moment we saw... It." "It?" asked Angela. The four girls clasped their hands together and rolled their eyes toward heaven, as if in religious rapture. "His Highness's cock," breathed Susan. "The Royal Truncheon." "The Pride of Malabunga," murmured Isabella. "Ze Wang of Wangs," whispered Marie. "Three whole feet of black, glistening love gristle," sighed Charlotte in reverend yet excited tones. "The moment you set your pretty little eyes on It, you will want to stay here for the rest of your lives, wanting nothing more than to give yourselves to Prince Seseke and his magnificent cunt reamer." Nicola and Angela exchanged worried glances. Could it be true? Were they not only prisoners for the rest of their lives, but upon witnessing their Master's cock unfurl they would embrace their fate whole- heartedly? Somewhere in the distance a bell sounded, its melodious tinkle carrying softly on the Arabesque air. "Quickly!" said Charlotte. The four harem girls grabbed Nicola and Angela and hustled them into the apartment, brushing through a maze of silk curtains. "The Princess Amaria approaches." "And how does she fit into all of this?" asked Nicola, trying hard to ignore the fact that she was buck naked and about to be introduced to more complete strangers. "Princess Amaria is the wife of Prince Seseke. She is also mistress of the royal harem, and personally inspects any new acquisitions. That's you two, sugar." Nicola boggled at the thought of it. The Prince's wife selects his sex slaves? But before she could pursue the matter further they burst into a smaller room. The girls barely had time to catch their breaths when a door at the far end pushed open, and in swept a beautiful black woman. The Princess Amaria cut an imposing figure. Tall, sleek, with an impressive cleavage threatening to burst out of the flowing silk gown wrapped around her tasty body, the young black princess cast a haughty eye upon the white women who were her charges. Behind her, their heads shaved and bowed, stood four scimitar-wielding guards. Wordlessly, the four slave girls dropped to their knees, motioning for Nicola and Angela to do so as well. From the subservient position, Nicola glanced up at Princess Amaria, sensing a vicious streak behind that cruel smile. "So," said the Princess, "these are the new acquisitions." Glaring down at the nude starlets she didn't sound too impressed. She swooped upon them, intent on making a more hands-on assessment. Nicola swallowed as those dark eyes bore down on her. Before she could protest, the Princess reached out with both hands and seized Nicola's boobs. The Aussie starlet gaped in surprise. The Princess proceeded to squeeze and fondle her tits, expertly evaluating Nicola's chesty charms. "Good, good," she murmured. "All natural. I know how you white Western girls like to stick things into your bodies." What might've been a tirade against plastic surgery or a double entendre was lost on Nicola, who was rather beginning to enjoy the surprisingly sensual boob massage her captor was administering. Princess Amaria knew just how much pressure to apply, and Nicola found her pulse racing and breath shortening. The Princess's roaming hands tweaked Nicola's puckering pink nipples, causing them to harden. She let out a slight moan. A smile crept across Princess Amaria's lips. "Excellent. We'll make a slave girl of you yet." She let go of Nicola's boobs (much to her disappointment) and moved on to Angela. The bitchy beauty normally didn't take crap from anyone, but the Princess's withering glare was enough to reduce the nude Angela to cowering at her mistress's feet. "I don't know about this one..." said the Princess with a sour face. She ran her hands down Angela's chest, sliding across her sleek, well-toned muscles and rather small breasts. "Not much up top..." Angela blushed deep scarlet, she'd always been sensitive about her small bust size. The Princess's nimble fingers tugged on Angela's perky brown nipples, tweaking and pulling, causing her to turn an even deeper shade of red. "...still, I'm sure she will have some use." She let go and there was an almost audible twang as Angela's nipples sprung back into place. Princess Amaria stuck her nose in the air. "Bathe them and dress them, and then present the new slaves to my husband." Without even pausing, the haughty black aristocrat turned on her heel and marched out, trailing her entourage of guards. Angela perked up a little at the mention of being dressed. "It's about time," she mumbled as the naked captives were once again marched away. ********** It was the largest, most sumptuous bathroom Nicola had ever seen. Sunk into the center of it was a huge tub made from solid gold, and the air was filled with steam rising from the hot, simmering waters. The Arabesque washroom overwhelmed the adorable Aussie's senses, and she suddenly realized how tired and worn out she was. Nicola and Angela kicked off their heels and the other slavegirls divested themselves of their scanty silk clothes. Nicola let out a contented sigh as Susan and Isabella's gentle hands lowered her into the warm, sweet-smelling waters. She slid down till her bottom made contact with a shelf, her nipples just visible over the milk-white surface. With a mild splash, Susan and Isabella slipped into the bath beside her. Nicola closed her eyes and let waves of relaxation pass over her as the slavegirls began to bath her. Cupping their hands they ladled hot water over Nicola's gorgeous body, the heat turning her tanned skin a glistening brown color. Nearby, Nicola sensed Angela undergoing the same pampering from Charlotte and Marie. For once, Angela was not complaining and for all her avowed homophobia she seemed to be enjoying the experience as much as the bisexual Nicola. The luxurious bath/massage gave her the chance to collect her thoughts. Here she was facing a lifetime of sexual enslavement. Her career in Hollywood as an aspiring actress and model was behind her, all Nicola had to look forward to was this. But was that necessarily a bad thing? Over the past year, Nicola had really come to enjoy sex in a way she never had before. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad thing to just go the whole hog and spend the rest of her days on her back with her legs spread? But all this was pretty academic. Nicola was a slavegirl now, and had little say in her own destiny. She was now just a plaything in the hands of her captors, a pretty toy. And from what the other slaves said, Nicola would willingly embrace her fate the moment she clapped eyes on the mysterious Prince Seseke's cock. (How did that work exactly? Nicola had heard snakes had the power to hypnotize their victims, perhaps the trouser variety had a similar ability?) As Nicola's mind worried over her future, sensual female hands roamed across her body. The next thing Nicola knew, Susan's hands were on her breasts, stroking, fondling, caressing. Nicola let out a sigh of desire, giving herself over to the naughty pleasure of being groped. With the heat from the water and Susan's attentions, Nicola's boobs were practically glowing. Her nipples stood out, hot and pink, more than an inch from her chest. Isabella wasn't idle either. The Italian model-turned-slavegirl busied herself stroking Nicola's thighs, her hands working beneath the water. As Nicola responded favorably to their caresses, Isabella's hands slipped between her thighs. Her fingers made deliciously slow and wicked circles around Nicola's engorged nether lips. "Do you like this?" whispered Isabella in her sexy Italian accent. "Yes," murmured Nicola, drifting on a cloud of erotic satisfaction. She leaned in close, pressing her tits against Nicola's arm, her lips brushing against Nicola's earlobe. "Do you want this to go on forever?" she asked. Without thinking, Nicola replied. "Oh, yes. Oyesoyesoyesoyes." Susan smiled, pleased. She kissed Nicola on the cheek. "It is time for you to meet your master." The two slavegirls arose from the pool, water streaming down their bodies. Charlotte and Marie also stood up, their naked bodies wet and glistening. Disappointed and a little bewildered, Nicola got out of the bath and followed them. Angela likewise joined them, and from her flustered appearance it was clear that she had been thoroughly 'bathed' as well. A soft towel was produced and between them Susan and Isabella gave Nicola a vigorous rubdown to dry her. Still dazed from her ordeal in the bath, the sensation of the silken towel against her bare skin made Nicola's still-buzzing pussy sing for more. Her ablution complete, Nicola was led into a smaller room adjoining the bathroom to get dressed. When Nicola saw what was provided for her, she raised an eyebrow. The girls began by slipping a gold band around Nicola's slender waist. It hung high on her hips just below her belly-button. Next, Susan and Isabella each picked up narrow 3-foot strips of diaphanous white silk, and moved like gossamer around her so that Nicola was sandwiched between them. Nicola watched quizzically as Susan slipped one end of the silk over the gold band and pulled it down so that it hung there securely like a towel on a towel rail. From the feel of cloth brushing against her ass, Nicola guessed that Isabella was doing the same with the back. Finally, the girls tightened the gold band so that the two little slips of silk were held in place against Nicola's body. Next, Susan produced another thin strip of material, and wrapped it around Nicola's chest, forming a very flimsy bikini top. Isabella slipped a pair of gold high-heels onto Nicola's dainty feet while Susan arranged a veil to cover her head and face, leaving only her baby-blue eyes peeping out. Nicola stood in front of a large gilt mirror admiring her outfit. The starlet had something of a guilty passion for dressing up in sexy and revealing costumes. Even doubled over, the narrow slivers of sheer silk front and back did little to conceal her pussy and ass, while leaving her gorgeous long legs completely bare, as well as most of her hips and groin. The top didn't so much as cover Nicola's boobs as draw attention to them. Even more transparent than her loincloth, it proudly put the starlet's best assets on display. And because it offered no support whatsoever, her tits bobbed and jiggled with every slightest movement, bouncing around inside the loose confines of the silk like a pair of ripe melons. Most extraordinary of all though was the effect of the soft material rubbing against her sensitive breasts. Nicola's already tender nipples responded warmly to this gentle caressing, giving her a pleasantly tingly sensation across her prize-winning chest. "Princess Leia eat your heart out," Nicola murmured with a satisfied smile. When (if!) she ever made it back home, she vowed to get her hands on a set of these duds for herself. Imagine sauntering into the Woody Awards dressed like this! While Nicola was shamelessly ogling herself in the mirror, Susan produced one last item to finish off the slavegirl outfit, jingling slightly as she handled it. Nicola glanced over at it and felt more than a little faint. It was a set of chains. They were only small, elegant links of gold that were more ornamental than functional, they nevertheless served to remind Nicola of her new station in life: sex slave. She offered no resistance as Susan attached the light-weight bonds around her wrists while Isabella locked a second pair around her shapely ankles. The sight of them made Nicola a little nervous, although they did look fabulous with her new slavegirl costume. She looked like a fantasy artwork come to life. Susan and Isabella watched her preening and posing, knowing smiles dancing on their lips. They were dressed again in the similar outfits, only slightly more chaste billowing harem-pants and their faces were uncovered. "Come," said Susan. "It's time." Once again, Nicola found herself marching through the luxurious marbled halls of the ruling palace of Malabunga. Marie and Charlotte joined them, a dejected looking Angela between them. The raven-haired beauty had also been dressed in a little slavegirl outfit, though, thought Nicola with a hint of smugness, she didn't look anywhere near as hot as her Aussie rival. It wasn't just the ankle-chains that forced Nicola to take smaller paces. The scanty little slip covering her crotch would flap up with every step, giving everyone an unforgettable flash of her chestnut-colored pubic hair. Not that it seemed to matter; as the slavegirls were marched through the corridors all the servants, guards and minor bureaucrats they passed would only glance in their direction then go back about their business. Nicola felt a little outraged at this. Here she was, utterly fuckable and dressed to kill, and they weren't taking much notice! With a toss of her hair, Nicola defiantly vowed that they would lust after this slavegirl. She held her head up high, making her strides as long as her chains would allow, letting everyone get a good look at her assets. Looking more and more miserable, Angela hurried to keep up. She kept her head down, her lovely long mane of black hair covering her face, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. They were moving through an area of the palace where there seemed to be more and more people. Nicola guessed that this was the hub of Malabunga's government, the center of this Prince Seseke's power. Nicola sensed a change come over their accompanying slavegirls, Susan, Marie, Isabella and Charlotte. They seemed to glow with excitement and anticipation of the moment they would be ushered into the royal presence of their master. Nicola noted the broad smile on their lips, the blush of red on their cheeks, the shining look in their eyes. Would she soon be joining their ranks as a brainless, cock-obsessed bimbo? Finally they arrived at their destination: the royal throne room. The slavegirls stood outside a pair of massive, iron-girt doors that marked the entrance to the seat of Malabunga. The girls stood outside, waiting. The two new "recruits" nervously shuffled their feet whilst the other four seemed to squirm with impatience. After what seemed like an eternity to Nicola, the giant doors swung open with a booming groan. Susan gently took Nicola by the hand, smiling at her to try and calm the anxious starlet. Hand in hand, the six slavegirls marched into the throne room. None of the other royal apartments Nicola had seen could prepare her for the sight that greeted her. The room was massive, it seemed to be endless the walls were so far away. The ceiling must've been fifty feet high, supported on two rows of golden pillars that ran through the chamber. The south wall was opened up by a series of immense arched windows through which streamed the bright African sunshine. Nicola's eyes darted all around her, trying to take in her surroundings. But it was the throne itself that drew Nicola's attention. Made from solid copper, it sat upon a dais in the center of the room. Reclining on this edifice was a tall, imposing black man with a neat goatee beard dressed in splendid, flowing robes. As Nicola approached him, his handsome but haughty face turned to stare at the slavegirls, and under his powerful gaze she involuntarily lowered her eyes to the floor. There weren't too many other people in the throne room, just a pair of guards at the door they just entered and another pair far, far away at the other end of the chamber. And the plump, officious little Pumbo stood on the dais. But despite the lack of audience, Nicola felt both thrilled and embarrassed to be seen dressed in this outrageously sexy and revealing slavegirl costume. About ten feet from the throne the girls halted. "Kneel!" barked Pumbo. "Bow before his Highness, Ruler of Malabunga, Protector of Rusama, Rightful Heir to the Golden Crocodile Throne and All-Round Nice Chap, Prince Seseke!" The slavegirls threw themselves to the floor, prostrating their nubile bodies on the flagstones before the Prince. Bewildered, Nicola and Angela followed suit. Nicola could feel the cold hard stone floor against her barely covered breasts. From the prone position she peered up at the Prince. His dark, good-looking face continued to stare down at his slavegirls. Finally he spoke: "Arise." It was a deep, rich voice that made Nicola's insides quiver. The girls all sat upright into kneeling positions, their bottoms resting on their feet. All six of them waiting silently for His Highness to speak. "So," he said, words flowing over Nicola like liquid honey, "these are the new girls for my harem." With a rustle of cloth Prince Seseke arose from his throne and stepped majestically down from the dais. He stood before them, hands resting on his hips, infinitely confident in the power that he wielded over the hapless captives. Nicola became aware of the change that overtook Susan, Marie, Charlotte and Isabella. Their breathing was shallow, rasping. Their faces shone with anticipation. Nicola was even a little surprised to note they were so excited, their nipples made very obvious dents in their chiffon tops. "From this point on your lives are no longer your own. Your days as wonton white women, wasting your succulent bodies on unworthy white boys, is over. You are now my slaves." A sinister smile crept across his thick black lips. "And this you will do willingly." The tension in the throne room ratcheted up several notches. The slavegirls seemed to hum with sexual desire, sensing what was to come. Angela, on the other hand, seemed to sink further into her misery. This was it. Prince Seseke grasped the front of his robe and in a single fluid movement yanked it aside. Before Nicola's eyes, His Highness's cock swung mightily into view. It hung down several inches, a solid pillar of prime, gently pulsing African dick. The circumcised head shone brilliantly in the light, glistening with the Prince's potent juices. The effect it had on the girls was electric. There was a sharp intake of breath as four beauties gasped in unison. Although they remained crouched on the floor, they seemed to strain forward as if their natural impulse was to pounce on the Prince's cock. To Nicola's surprise, Angela seemed to perk up. The same glazed expression was visible in her eyes as well, staring transfixed upon Prince Seseke with equal parts dread and lust. "It's beautiful," she murmured softly. His Highness's grin twisted wider across his black face as he stood proudly exposed to his slavegirls. Nicola cast a more critical eye on his meat. It was a handsome dick, and Nicola felt her pulse surge at the sight of it. But still, it didn't flush her pussy quite the same way as it did the others. "I've seen better," she said with a shrug. A ripple of shock ran through the court. The other girls gasped in astonishment. Pumbo was puffing in surprise. The Royal Wang twitched indignantly. "WHAT??!!" roared Prince Seseke. Susan shook her pretty head and whispered, "No, no!" "All I meant to say," Nicola tried to explain, "is that it's a perfectly nice dick, and I'd be glad to fuck you, but I don't really want to spend the rest of my life with that as my only option." Prince Seseke was turning the most amazing shade of purple. His cock, which had just a moment ago hung proudly down his leg, now squirmed in agitation. The guards shuffled anxiously. The other girls looked shocked, as if amazed any white girl would even disparage her master's meat. The look of fury on Prince Seseke's face wasn't hard to read. "Take her to my royal apartments!" he commanded. "I shall deal with her personally." Nicola gulped, suddenly wishing she'd kept her mouth shut. The guards jumped to obey, seizing the starlet under her bare arms. She caught Susan's eye looking fearfully after her before Nicola was dragged bodily from the throne room. ********** Nicola was hauled none-too gently into yet another sumptuous room. The guards grabbed what little clothing she was wearing and with a vicious tug tore her lovely slavegirl outfit to shreds, leaving Nicola once again naked. Thankfully, they also removed her chains. But a moment later, Nicola realized even more awful restraints awaited her. Set up in the middle of the room was another set of stocks. Whereas the ones she and Angela had been locked into earlier had been rather functional, this set was crafted specially for the true connoisseur of the Sadistic arts. It was a frame made entirely from metal, bronze that glittered menacingly. The nude Nicola was dragged over to it and her nubile young body secured to the harsh mount. As before she was pulled forward into a bent- over position, metal locks secured around her wrists. Her ankles where forced apart and they too were locked in place, wide apart so that her delicious long legs were spread like a wishbone. Finally a metal brace was lowered across the back of her neck, pinning the starlet in a very compromising situation. Nicola wiggled with discomfort in her imprisonment. The metal felt cold and hard against her tender flesh, and she was once again forced into a position that left her charms bared. Her large, 38-inch boobs hung down beneath her, just waiting for whatever nastiness Prince Seseke had in mind. Worse still was her pussy, moist and juicy, held open by her splayed legs, exposed to her master's whims. And it was in this pose that the naked Nicola was left to stew as the guards departed. Nicola wondered why Susan and the others had fallen under Seseke's penile spell and she hadn't. The most obvious answer was that Nicola, as an aspiring Hollywood starlet, saw more dick than any normal woman, so his meat was nothing special to her. But then why was Angela affected? True, she wasn't as arduous as Nicola at pursuing her career, but she was no stranger to the casting couch. Nicola squeezed her eyes shut and conjured up the image of Seseke's dick in her mind. Sleek, black, pulsing with a raw animal energy. But Nicola's reaction was much the same as before. Sure, she wanted to fuck him, but she was hardly mesmerized. Prince Seseke entered quietly through a secret door at the rear of his royal apartments and was greeted with the sight of Nicola's bare bottom, captive in his special set of stocks. Seeing the gorgeous, naked white girl cowed thus took the edge off his rage somewhat, and the Prince allowed himself a smile of satisfaction. If anything else this was going to be fun, his first session with his new plaything. Silently, the black prince glided up behind his naughty slavegirl. Seseke had had many a nude white girl cowering at his feet, but he had to admit it, this one was something else. He reached out a hand and brushed his fingertips against Nicola's backside. At the sudden and surprisingly gentle touch, Nicola jumped, although her restraints limited her movements considerably. She squirmed hapless, trying to see who was groping her ass. Seseke made no attempt to announce his presence. Instead he slipped off his clothes and stood naked behind Nicola, looked down on the captured starlet, enjoying the spectacle of her unfettered boobs quivering with her nervousness. At last he chose to announce his presence. "You've been a very naughty girl," he said in his deep voice. "Most of my slavegirls fall in love with my beautiful black cock the moment they set eyes on it. I don't know why you didn't, but I intend to teach you some manners." "Your Highness," Nicola replied. The Prince was still out of her limited field of view and it threw her a little to speak without seeing him, but she was determined to give this her best shot. "Forgive me, but my feelings are much the same as they were earlier. You have a perfectly nice cock, but I'm not going to swoon over it." Again, Seseke felt that stab of rage. Seeing Nicola stretched out before him naked and helpless cooled it somewhat, but he still felt the indignity of being talked back to by this lowly slavegirl. He ran his hand up and along her spine. Nicola shivered under his touch. Despite her humiliating position, she was beginning to get a little turned on. She'd always had a bit of a submissive streak and, well, being shackled into a set of stocks by a big black African prince made her feel more than a little submissive. But first, she had some probing of her own to do. "And I would think you wouldn't care, seeing as you already have such a beautiful wife." Seseke's hand paused abruptly. "The Princess Amaria," he murmured. Nicola thought she detected a hint of bitterness in his voice. "She has... her own interests." "And that includes being mistress of the harem?" Nicola asked. "Yes. Apart from her own burdens of ruling Malabunga, the Princess occupies herself a great deal with the harem. It is gratifying that she should spend so much energy on ensuring my sexual satisfaction, although mystifying that she doesn't see to it herself." Nicola suddenly realized what was going on, even if Prince Seseke didn't. She guessed that once he had finished enjoying her, she would be summoned to the Princess Amaria. "Now then," sighed Prince Seseke. "Back to the task at hand." He strode past her, and for the first time Nicola was able to get a good long look at his naked body. The Prince was very well built, his bulging muscles rippling as he walked toward the far wall. Nicola was so engrossed at ogling his ass that she didn't notice what it was he was doing. The Prince suddenly turned around, his impressive but not-overwhelming cock swinging before him like a trunk. Nicola gasped in shock. It was a length of wicked black leather. It gave Nicola nasty memories of the strap the nuns at school used to use. At the sight of it she squirmed uselessly against her bonds, but there was no escape. The softest parts of her body were vulnerable and there was nothing Nicola could do about it. The Prince circled her, enjoying watching her discomfort. Finally he took up position behind her. Months of nude sunbathing had left Nicola's exquisite ass a lovely even shade of brown, and right now Prince Seseke wanted nothing more than to see that peach turn a tender shade of red. "Please," begged Nicola, "this won't change my mind." She was becoming desperate now. "Do not worry, my precious possession," the Prince hushed her gently as he raised his arm high above his head. "I know how to do this so that you will not be marked." There was nothing Nicola could do but squeeze her eyes shut. The strap sizzled through the hot, dry African air and cracked across Nicola's pert ass. She gave a squeal of pain, twisting in her bonds. Prince Seseke smiled, watching the red bloom of pain and shame creep across her white backside. Again the strap swished back and down on the tempting, heart-shaped target. Nicola's painful squeak was this time mixed with a little sob. "Please," she cried, "I'll do anything, just stop!" Prince Seseke paused. As peeved as he was at her refusal to bow before his mighty black wang, it suddenly occurred to him that it might be fun to break this haughty starlet. "Anything?" Seseke asked. "Anything!" Nicola wailed. Prince Seseke stroked his beard thoughtfully. "For a start, call me Master. I wish to hear those words fall from your pretty lips." Nicola rolled her eyes and sighed silently to herself, thankful he had at least stopped whipping her ass. She would just have to treat the Prince like any other producer, fawning over him and fulfilling his every whim, although this time it was more than just a plum role or a modeling assignment that was at stake. "Yes, Master," she said wearily. She was tired and uncomfortable and her ass stung like hell, but she did her best to sound sincere. The Prince puffed himself up with pride. His cock, dispirited by the humiliation in the throne room, gained some of its former vigor and began to stiffen. Grinning with victory, Prince Seseke made his way around Nicola to the front of her stocks, his hardon swinging to and fro before him. He stood in front of her, proudly erect, his hands resting on his hips. "So, you are ready to submit to my power, and willingly become my slavegirl?" Nicola peered up at the Prince, her eyes roaming across his naked, muscular body, down to his dick, which was beginning to pulse enthusiastically with excitement. In spite of everything he was pretty good looking. She was getting horny again! Nicola wiggled in her shackles, sensing that warm, honey-like feeling spreading across her crotch. It wasn't such a bad cock, after all. She'd entertained worse in her career. Nicola licked her lips and let out the slightest of moans. That was all the encouragement Prince Seseke needed. He reached down, running his hands erotically through Nicola's long, chestnut- colored hair. The adorable little Aussie starlet closed her eyes and sighed with sensual delight. Was she still acting or did she really want this? Nicola didn't know and she didn't care! Seseke pushed his groin into Nicola's face, feeding his cock into her little pink mouth. She eagerly opened wide, letting his thick black meat slide between her pearly white teeth and down her throat. The black Prince began to fuck her mouth with gusto. Nicola tried her best to blow him properly, but with her head locked in place it was hard. Still, she was renown in Hollywood as a BJ princess and Nicola was determined to give her best performance under these difficult circumstances. And it was obvious he had done this before as well. Nicola's tongue slithered up and down the shaft as he pumped it in and out of her drooling mouth, forcing her head as far forward as her shackles would allow to suckle eagerly on Prince Seseke's dick. All her discomfort and pain seemed to disappear into the background. It was certainly different to fuck like this, Nicola thought to herself as she slurped contentedly. Standing over her, the Prince grunted with the effort of fucking Nicola's mouth. Sweat soon sprang up, glistening on his naked black torso. Seseke leaned even further forward, resting his hands on the stocks, his hips pistoning even faster. Finally Seseke let out a sharp grunt. He froze mid-fuck, his rippling muscles tensing in orgasm. An instant later a torrent of cum spurted from his dick shooting down Nicola's throat and almost choking her. She gasped, trying to gulp as much of it down as possible, but her imprisonment threw her off rhythm. With a strangled cough, Seseke's cum starting flowing out of her nose. The haughty black Prince paid little attention to his slavegirl's predicament, but instead pulled his still-pumping cock out of her mouth and began to hose his cum into the pretty girl's face. By the time Prince Seseke had finished, Nicola's entire face and head were dripping with his juices. It was in her eyes, up her nose, matting her long tresses. It was all the starlet could do but gasp and sob in shock. Nicola half-expected her master to switch ends and start giving her what she needed but Prince Seseke had what he wanted and instantly lost interest in his toy. Without looking at Nicola he walked over to a golden basin and washed his dick clean. Then he slipped his robes back on and without saying a word left the room. So Nicola was left alone, still imprisoned and more than a little sticky. She was still out of breath and panting a little. After a while the door opened again and her guards made their way over to her. Wordlessly, they unlocked her shackles and once again they were off, wandering through the cavernous corridors of Malabunga's ruling palace. Nicola was exhausted to the point of collapse by the time they reached their destination. Her eyelids had long-since fluttered shut, and the captive cutie allowed herself to be hauled along by her burly jailers. They halted, and Nicola felt herself plonked onto a bed. Ah! She sighed. At last! She could hear the guards leave with a gentle soft clinking of their scimitars. Nicola was sore, tired and filthy. But now at last she could drift off to sleep. She was just doing so when she could feel something moist sponging across her face, cleaning off the Prince's semen. Someone was washing her face, cool water trickling over her drowsy cheeks. "Mmm, Susan," Nicola murmured. But the voice that replied was too husky, too dominant, to be a slavegirl's. "My husband can be such a beast," whispered the Princess Amaria. Nicola opened her eyes, taking note of her new surroundings for the first time. She was lying on the purest white sheets she'd ever seen, in a sumptuous bedchamber lit by flickering lanterns. Night had fallen. Sitting over Nicola, her dark face bathed in shadows, was the Princess Amaria. "Ah, my pretty," she cooed, "you will now experience the softer delights Malabunga has to offer." Inwardly Nicola let out a groan. Not that she had anything against fucking another woman, on the contrary Nicola had been an enthusiastic convert to lesbianism ever since her friend Jennifer had seduced her several months ago. But if being a slavegirl at Prince Seseke's beck and call wasn't enough, she was also expected to perform for the Princess Amaria as well. After cleaning Nicola's face, Amaria produced a silken cloth and dried her. All the while she murmured to her toy in a language Nicola didn't understand. The attention made Nicola feel light-headed. She began to feel horny again. Amaria laid back in the bed and for the first time Nicola realized the Princess was as naked as she was. The iridescent lights played across her reclined body, making her skin look like liquid chocolate. Nicola loved chocolate. Amaria's breasts were large, bigger even than Nicola's, but not so huge that they lolled across her reclined chest but rather stood out proud and firm. Her thick areolas were the most amazing shade of black, like licorice. The Princess slipped one hand between her open legs and toyed with her thick black pussy lips. Nicola glanced down, astonished to see how pink her cunt looked contrasted against her dusky skin. "Come to me," Amaria purred, fingering herself. "Pleasure your mistress." Exhausted, Nicola let out the slightest of sighs but there was nothing she could do but obey. The adorable Aussie crawled submissively up the bed, her head bowed, until she reached the lounging Princess. She knew the drill. Without a word Nicola thrust her head between the Princess's legs. Her face hovered just above the Pearl of Malabunga, feeling the heat emanating from her pussy, the musky perfume of Amaria's desire in her nostrils. The Princess let out an impatient moan of lust, urging Nicola to her task. She plunged in, her tongue diving between the juicy folds of Amaria's cunt, tasting the sticky- sweetness within. The Princess threw back her long, black mane of hair and let out a squeal of ecstasy that echoed through the halls of the palace. Nicola carried on dutifully lapping away, eliciting a froth of free-flowing cunt juices from Amaria that left Nicola with a sticky sheen across her nose and chin. Her mouth full of honey, Nicola reflected that her captivity might've been a lot worse... ********** Dawn rolled beautifully, majestically across the African landscape. Brilliant sunlight lanced through the open windows of the palace, falling across the naked, dozing body of a certain little starlet. From somewhere in the palace came the distant sound of music- strange, Arabesque music with singing in a foreign tongue. Nicola opened her eyes and for a moment wondered if she hadn't woken into a dream. Then it came back to her: the day before, being kidnapped by Akumba, examined by Pumbo, her ordeal at the hands of Prince Seseke and finally her 'pampering' at the hands of Princess Amaria. There was no sign of her now, Nicola was alone in bed. The only trace of their liaison was the snail trail all over Nicola's cover-girl face. She and Angela had been missing for a day now, how long before they were missed? Surely it wouldn't be too long, they were both in demand for acting and modeling assignments. But would a search party come for them, all the way from North Africa down the coast to Malabunga? It looked like for the foreseeable future, Nicola would have to get used to being a slavegirl. She got up from the bed and padded barefoot across the room. Hardly surprisingly, there were no clothes for her to wear, not even the cute little slavegirl outfit they had provided for her yesterday. Never mind, after yesterday Nicola doubted there was anyone left in the palace who hadn't seen her bare ass. There were two doors out of the bedchamber. The first one Nicola tried was locked from the other side. The other opened with a satisfying click, opening into a darkened corridor. Nicola tiptoed down that and found herself standing before another door. She had the sense to put her ear to it and listened first. The sounds of women, laughing, splashing. Nicola opened the door and found to her chagrin that her bid for freedom had only led her to the bathroom. It looked like the same bathroom she and Angela had been taken to yesterday. It was dominated by a huge simmering tub, big enough to hold several football teams should the girls ever throw an orgy. For now it was only occupied by a couple of the slavegirls. At one end Charlotte and Isabella splashed about and giggled in what might've been either mucking around or foreplay. At the end closest to Nicola, luxuriating in the warm water, was her long-time rival and now companion-in- slavery, Angela. She was lying back, her eyes closed and her modest boobs pushed high toward the mirrored ceiling, a look of utter contentment on her face. Nicola slipped into the water next to her, surrendering her luscious body to the soothing waters. "Angela!" she hissed. The bitchy beauty opened her eyes. "Oh hello, Knickers. I'm glad you're awake. I wanted to talk to you." Nicola barely contained her surprise at this uncharacteristically warm greeting from Angela. "I wanted to talk to you too. We need to..." "You have to tell me about last night," Angela cut her off. "The Prince. You were with him, you have to tell me what he- what *It* was like!" Her eyes shone bright, just as they had done yesterday in the throne room, the moment Angela had caught sight of Prince Seseke's dick. Nicola stared at her in utter disbelief. Angela Monroe, bitch queen of Hollywood, had fallen hopelessly in love with that awful man's cock! Well, thought Nicola, the first step in getting out of here had to be getting Angela back to her arrogant, conceited self. "Angela," she said, "I'm so glad you're here to share this with me. I was a little anxious about the thought of spending the rest of my life as a slavegirl, but if you can do it so can I." "Sure," she said with a warm smile. (Had Angela ever smiled warmly??? This was serious!) Nicola put her arm around Angela's shoulder, drawing her close against her naked body. "Here we are, the two of us, former adversaries now sisters in the harem." Angela's smile faltered slightly but she recovered. "Yes, sisters." "Putting our old Hollywood lives behind us," Nicola continued. "Just imagine, right now some lesser actress is landing a role that really should've gone to you." Angela's face twitched. Nicola knew she was on to something here. "Some big-boob bimbo with all her talent in her chest. But I bet she'd trade everything to be where you are now." She glanced over at Angela who seemed deep in thought. Nicola went in for the kill. She brought her luscious lips close to Angela's ear and whispered: "No more having to go on modeling assignments, or being in movies, or hobnobbing with the glitterati. Just sitting around waiting on some guy's cock... for the rest of your life." "Fuck!" snapped the raven-haired beauty. She leapt out of the bath, her lean naked body glistening. "Fuck fuck fuck!" she squealed, jumping up and down in barely suppressed rage. Nicola smirked. "So you've changed your mind about being a slavegirl?" A savage frown crossed her pretty face. "Screw this! I've got a career to get back to." "Well, it's time we start thinking how to get out of this place and back home to Hollywood." Before the two starlets could put their heads together, Susan strode into the lavish bathroom followed closely by the other girls. "Attention, please, everyone!" she called in her clipped English accent, clapping her hands loudly. The girls hushed instantly and gathered around Susan. Nicola and Angela joined them. "I've got some good news and some bad news," she announced. "First, the bad news. Their Highnesses, the Prince and Princess, will be gone for a few days on a conference." A groan of disappointment arose from the assembled slavegirls. Nicola glanced around at their crestfallen faces, more than a little glad she wasn't one of their number. Marie seemed particularly devastated. "'Ow can I go wiz out ze big black cock?" "Gimme a break," murmured Angela and rolled her eyes. Nicola thought with some satisfaction that if it weren't for her, Angela would be agreeing with the little French cutie-pie. "Now for the good news," said Susan with a glean in her eyes that suggested she was just busting to tell them. She gave a naughty smile. "While they are gone, His Highness has suggested this might be a good time to hold this year's Miss Malabunga contest." The reaction from the girls was astounding. One moment they were moping around, heartbroken, the next they were literally jumping around and squealing with glee. "Miss Malabunga? But none of us are native Malabunganese." Angela pointed out. "It's not... an official title," replied Susan. The others giggled, and Nicola got the feeling they were planning on having some fun at the new girl's expense. "It's a special beauty contest," explained Isabella. "Only white girls participate." Their attempts to get more information on the contest were only met with schoolgirl titters. "Come on Knickers," said Angela. "It's only a beauty contest. We might as well stick around, it could be fun." "But there's something fishy going on!" Nicola insisted, her pretty brow knotted anxiously. "What kind of beauty contest would go on in a place like this?" She well remembered the last 'beauty contest' she'd taken part in. "Oh, come on," scoffed Angela. She crossed her arms across her petite chest and threw Nicola a haughty smirk. "Wassa matter, scared I'll beat you?" Nicola rolled her eyes. Angela and her damn competitive streak! Still, she guessed it wouldn't matter too much if they waited around a few days before they made their bid for freedom. ********** The enthusiasm of the harem girls was high, and they all disappeared to their various apartments in high spirits. Even Angela was looking forward to it. Their eagerness made Nicola think. They'd all been brainwashed to worship Prince Seseke's dick. This contest (apparently) had nothing to do with Malabunga's ruling organ. So, why the excitement? The girls, even Susan, were in no mood to tell, so Nicola would just have to wait and see. She had the strangest feeling it wasn't going to be terribly pleasant. So, what does a slavegirl wear to a beauty pageant? Clothing had, of late, become rather problematic. Or rather, not. Apart from the outfit she had been given (and subsequently lost when Seseke's guards had stripped her), Nicola had literally nothing to wear. No-one seemed to mind her traipsing around the harem stark naked. Therefore, she spent the rest of the day worrying. The day of the contest dawned and Nicola was still none the wiser. However, when she got out of bed she discovered someone had left her a small present: sitting on her dresser was a little blue bikini. She slipped it on and admired herself in her bedroom mirror. It was the sort of very flattering swimsuit that she normally wore, either in one of her movies, on a photoshoot, or when just lounging around the house. Nicola's spectacular 38-inch boobs threatened to pop out of the tiny top. The cups were designed to only cover the bottom half of her breasts, with the effect of putting the top swell of bosom enchantingly on display. As Nicola posed for herself, turning to admire herself from all angles, her boobs would bob and sway alarmingly, drawing the viewers attention to them. The bottoms were just a slip of a g-string, custom designed to showcase Nicola's stunning ass. Being a professional model for many years, Nicola had always kept herself in the peak of physical condition and when she put on revealing outfits like this, it showed. The final effect of the bikini was to leave her practically naked but still covered within the bounds of decency, offering onlookers tantalizing glimpses of the treasures that lay just beneath that scanty little bathing suit. The final touch was a pair of white pumps. Nicola slipped her dainty feet into those awfully-expensive shoes and then went in search of her fellow harem girls. Her heels tapping across the palace's marble floors, Nicola followed the sound of giggling until she found them. The girls were all assembled in a dressing room attached to something called "The Hall of Heroes" (at least, that's what the plaque on the door read). Nicola gaped in surprise at her fellow slavegirls: they were all dressed identically in the same little blue bikini. Of course, they weren't all built like Nicola. Angela and Isabella were tall, slim and had petite chests. Charlotte, on the other hand, was a little shorter and her enormous tits put quite a strain on her hapless bikini top. As she entered all the girls were chatting away excitedly to each other, obviously looking forward to the show they were about to put on. "Knickers!" hissed Angela. "Where have you been? Trying to shoe-horn those udders into that bikini? Never mind, you're finally here. You talk to these cock-crazed bimbos, try and get some answers out of them." Nicola turned to her fellow harem girls. They were all staring at her, smirking. Marie raised her hand to her mouth and murmured something to Isabella and they both started giggling again. This gave Nicola a sinking feeling in her tummy. She was in for something bad, she knew it! "Susan," she pleaded, "we need to know. What's this 'Miss Malabunga' all about?" "Well..." the English rose replied, "it's sort of an annual tradition here in the palace. A little treat for the Prince's personal bodyguard." "Bodyguard?" chipped in Angela. "What, are they the audience or something?" "They're the audience all right," Charlotte replied. "Judges too." "And," chimed in the adorable Isabella, "they award the prize." This last remark was delivered with a very broad grin. "Prize? What prize?" asked Nicola. "What does the winner get?" The slavegirls exchanged knowing glances. "Everything!" cried Susan and they all burst out laughing. Just then the door into the dressing room swung open and in sauntered the officious Pumbo. The girls all stopped laughing and snapped to attention like half-naked soldiers. Nicola and Angela followed suit with less military precision. The pompous little Negro scowled at the collection of captured white girls. "The contest is about to start! This is very important for the morale of His Highness's royal guard. What is all this noise?" He carried a wicked short riding crop-style whip, which he flicked viciously at them. The girls all looked crestfallen. "I'm sorry, Master Pumbo," said Susan, shuffling her feet nervously. "We were... we were having a little fun at the expensive of the new girls." Pumbo turned to look at Nicola and Angela and broke into a broad grin. "So... American, Australian, you have not been told of the details of our little beauty contest, have you?" "No, sir," said Nicola warily. "Well, you're in for a treat... especially if one of you gets voted Miss Malabunga!" Pumbo started laughing, his fat body rippling. "But- but we don't even know what we're supposed to do!" wailed Nicola, despairing she'd ever know what was going on until it was too late. Pumbo sighed. "It's very simple, my pretty little bimbo. I will MC the show. When you hear your names called come out onto the stage. Do your little turn, then go and stand next to the other girls. Then we vote, and crown one of you Miss Malabunga." "That's it?" asked Angela. "That's it" Pumbo smirked, and the girls let out a snigger. "Come!" he cried. "The heroes of Malabunga await, and they demand their entertainment. And entertain them you will, or else!" This inspiring little speech was punctuated with a sizzle of the whip through the air. Pumbo waddled past the slavegirls, up a short flight of steps and through a door. A moment later Nicola heard a drunken roar that sounded like several dozen men cheering at once. The girls clustered at the bottom of the stairwell, listening. Pumbo was launching into his spiel, but as it was all in Malabunganese Nicola couldn't understand it. Every so often Pumbo's voice would rise in pitch and be drowned out in lecherous laughter. The other girls had, in the course of their captivity, picked up a few words of their owner's language and from their reaction it sounded like Pumbo's material was a little blue. "I do declare," giggled Charlotte, fanning herself and blushing. "What?" Nicola asked. "It loses a little in translation, but Master Pumbo has just insinuated that white women are... rather partial to the amorous attentions of farm animals." Suddenly, Pumbo switched to English. "And now, brave warriors, for your pleasure, I give you the contestants vying for the coveted title Miss Malabunga!" More hollering from the unseen crowd. Despite herself, Nicola was flushed with excitement. She was a born exhibitionist and loved performing before an audience, so the thought of getting up before a group of cheering men did appeal to her. Maybe she was wrong? Maybe this was just a little innocent beauty contest put on for the benefit of a few otherwise-bored soldiers? While Nicola was daydreaming, Pumbo called out Susan's name. With a few words of encouragement from the others, the prim, blonde little English rose scampered up the stairwell and disappeared through the door. The noise her entrance made was deafening. Nicola stood with the others, straining to hear what was going on. It was mostly just a haze of noise, men cheering and laughing, with some yelling in Malabunganese. This went on for several minutes before Pumbo's voice bellowed out over the top of it: "Let's hear it for Susan, a damn fine piece of ass and a credit to her race! Next up from Georgia, USA, comes a girl with tits you could ski down. Charlotte!" With a shriek of delight, Charlotte dashed up the stairs, her mammoth boobs bouncing under her tiny bikini. As she disappeared through the door, yet another roar of salacious delight accompanied her. And so it went on, each of the eager slavegirls called out in order, and each of them disappearing through those doors, until only Nicola and Angela were left. The raven-haired beauty stood with her hands on her shapely hips, exuding an air of superiority. "So, Knickers, you won't be too jealous when I'm crowned Miss Malabunga and you're not?" Nicola knew that this wasn't the time or place for their usual competitive relationship but she couldn't help a burning desire to win the contest just to put snooty Angela's nose out of joint. She opened her mouth to make a cutting reply when suddenly Pumbo's voice rang out: "Our next contestant is a young lady new to Malabunga and it's innovative race relations policies. I know that you'll all do your best to make her feel welcome. Please put your hands together for Nicola!" Trying to take that intro purely at face value, Nicola took a deep breath, adjusted her bikini top so that her boobs were covered as much as possible, tugged on her g-string so that it was firmly wedged between her ass cheeks, and made her way up the stairs and through that mysterious door. The moment she stepped through, Nicola was overwhelmed by blinding bright lights and the raucous noise arising from her agitated audience. She stood there dumbfounded for a second or two before she managed to get her bearings. She was standing on a stage, of sorts. Except it wasn't really that high and she was well within groping distance of the crowd. The lights were brighter than she expected, and Nicola had to put her hand to her brow to get a good look at them. There were at least 50 of them. Big, black men, each of them stripped to the waist and glistening with sweat. They were all crammed into the small 'Hall of Heroes', clustered around the stage, staring up at Nicola in much the same way a hungry man drools over a steak. Nicola, dressed in nothing but her skimpy little bikini, felt small and vulnerable in front of those big strong boys. From speakers came the booming sound of African music, heavy with a pulsing drum beat. Nicola realized she was supposed to dance. Slowly, tentatively, she began to undulate her body. The music washed over her. Nicola surrendered herself willingly to the African rhythms, unlike the way she resisted surrendering herself to these African men. She writhed her luscious body to the beat, gyrating lewdly for the benefit of her bawling audience. Her boobs bounced wildly with every step, threatening to spill out of the miniscule bikini top, and part of Nicola wished they would. Nicola danced her way down the stage, wiggling her ass, a sea of black hands reaching out to stroke her. Nicola laughed, turning, daring them to do so. As she did so she noticed Pumbo scowling and frantically gesturing at her. A split second later Nicola glanced over at the other girls and realized what he was trying to tell her. The four of them were standing in a row, posing like models with hands on hips, one leg pointed out in front of them, chest thrust out. And they were grinning, obviously enjoying themselves. All of them- Susan, Marie, Charlotte and Isabella, each had something blue dangling off their left arm. It was their bikinis. The four slavegirls were standing there on stage completely naked. Under those hot stage lights they had begun to sweat, and their delectable bodies glistened with moisture. Nicola gaped at them, utterly exposed, bare breasts pert and four little muffs trimmed into landing strips (as Prince Seseke demanded). That was what Pumbo wanted from her. This was not just a regular beauty contest, this was a strip show! There wasn't much Nicola could do about it even if she wanted to. Carried away by the music, the roar of the crowd, the excitement, Nicola was seized by a desire to strip nude too. Without a hint of shame, Nicola turned back to face the men of the royal guard. Still dancing she reached behind her back, her delicate fingers tugging at the knot that held her bikini top in place. The material fell away, but before it could fall off completely Nicola caught it and held it loosely in place. Smirking naughtily, she danced on, her bikini top hanging loosely against her impressive tits. Looking down on the men, teasing them, was like a reversal of power for Nicola. Here she was, the slavegirl, their plaything, but as she slowly peeled her clothes for them Nicola realized they were slaves to their own lust. They chanted over and over again in English, "Tits! Tits! Tits!" The thought made the adorable Aussie starlet laugh out loud with glee. Time to give them what they wanted! Like a spokesmodel on a gameshow, Nicola posed on the stage. Slowly she pulled away the top, revealing her twin globes for the men. They roared in unison, stamping their feet. Nicola was so excited now her breath was racing, causing her bare boobs to heave up and down, much to her audience's delight. But there was still more to come. Nicola reached for the tiny strip of blue, the only thing standing between her salivating pussy and those baying black men. Enough with the teasing, she thought. Nicola wanted to do something with impact! She grabbed the bikini bottoms in both hands and yanked. There was a brief sound of ripping before they came away completely, nothing more than shreds of cloth. Howls of approval arose from the assembled Africans, their grinning faces turned up toward her. The naked Nicola stood panting with exhilaration for a moment or two, basking in the glow of their adoration, before she retired downstage with the other girls and posed next to them with her bikini draped over her arm. "Our final contestant tonight for Miss Malabunga is a stuck-up little American girl who has yet to fully appreciate her new station in life. Hopefully, we can change all that tonight. Please welcome, Angela!" The door swung open and in sauntered Angela. Ever the professional, the bitchy beauty strode onstage with an obviously fake smile plastered across her face. When the sight of her howling Negro audience hit her that phony look faltered somewhat and Angela looked distinctly queasy. For a moment Nicola felt a surge of satisfaction at Angela's distress. But this quickly dissolved into sympathy. They were in this together. Angela struggled to recover from that initial shock. Once again the music started and Angela tried to dance, wiggling her ass for the guardsmen. But she was not the most accomplished dancer at the best of times. Nicola watched as she tried to shimmy her lithe, bikini-clad body down the stage. The raven-haired beauty was already sweating with anxiety, her muscular body glistening under the lights. Slowly, awkwardly, she danced towards those hands that were reaching up to stroke her snowy white flesh. Angela didn't linger too long near for the audience to get a good grope. Blushing profusely she turned to make her way back up the stage. It was then she caught sight of Nicola and the other girls, standing naked in a row. Angela stopped short and let out an audible gasp. This was met with hoots of delight from her black spectators, who seemed to be enjoying her obvious discomfort more than the willing shows the other girls had put on. The chorus they took up had a jeering quality to it: "Tits! Tits! Tits!" Pumbo, however, was not amused. "Strip!" he roared. Angela froze, shaking her head. Pumbo's arm snapped out and the whip sizzled against her bare thigh. Angela let out a squeal of pain and tried to retreat but there was nowhere to go. "OK, OK," she pleaded. A whoop of triumphant glee erupted from the men. Pumbo merely glowered at her, brandishing the whip in case of more reluctance. Angela turned back to her audience. Slowly, she began to untie her bikini string. The guardsmen all craned forward, not wanting to miss a moment of her little show. Angela's fumbling fingers finally got the skimpy garment loose and it popped free from her small, pointy breasts. Although Angela's career as a Hollywood starlet meant she was no stranger to dancing naked in front of a crowd, unlike Nicola she usually had a more mercenary motive than just because she was enjoying herself. So, her perky little tits pointing out at the salivating men, Angela tried to dance for their leering pleasure. "All the way!" barked Pumbo. Angela jumped. The tiny blue bikini bottoms were the only thing separating those hungry black eyes from her pussy. But she complied nevertheless, again fumbling with the complicated knots that concealed her modesty. Angela closed her eyes and let the garment slip away, cheers and applause greeting her acquiescence to their eager demands. Finally, the music came to an end and Angela was able to scuttle back and stand next to Nicola. "Ok," she whispered, "This is one contest I don't care about winning." Pumbo raised his hands to settle the excited guardsmen. "Now that you've seen the contestants in all their glory it's time for you, brave heroes of Malabunga to decide which of these beauties shall have the honor of being crowned." The men of the audience started whispering to each other in low voices, occasionally giving out a booming laugh. Pumbo moved behind the girls. Nicola felt herself tense, not so much in hope of winning but a funny feeling she really didn't want to win this contest! Pumbo moved to the end of the line and held his hand over Susan's head. "Alright gentlemen, let's hear your appreciation for contestant #1, the prim English rose with an insatiable hunger for black cock!" Susan grinned as if to sheepishly acknowledge the truth of Pumbo's description. The applause for her was respectable if a little restrained. "Brothers, contestant #2. The forefathers of our American brethren were slaves to her forefathers. Now she's our slave! How's that for progress? Give it up for our tasty Georgia peach." If Charlotte showed any embarrassment at being sniggered about so openly by these black men she didn't show it. Instead she waved excited to the clapping crowd, obviously hoping to win. "Contestant #3, from Italy, her hobbies include fashion, music, and being a bitch- slut for whatever black cock is closest to hand!" Likewise, Isabella accepted Pumbo's jibe as if it was a compliment. "The fatter the better for contestant #4. Put this little beauty on your cock and hear her scream for more." Marie giggled with delight at this. As her applause echoed through the hall of heroes, Nicola braced herself for whatever 'flattering' remark Pumbo was going to make about her. His dark hand hovered ominously over her chestnut-colored hair. Pumbo seemed to sense her anxiety and deliberately drew the moment out. "Now, my brothers of the Royal Guard, contestant #5 is something a little special. As I said, she is a newcomer both to the harem and the Miss Malabunga contest. Now, my sweet little treasure, how about telling us all what prize the winner of this contest will receive?" A hush fell over the hall. All of the men stared at Nicola, smirking. "Um, I don't know," she replied in a small voice. This was met with peals of raucous laughter. "You hear that, boys?" taunted Pumbo. "She doesn't know!" Pumbo gently stroked her cheek. "What do you think it is, hmm? A new car? A pretty new dress?" Nicola never felt more uncomfortable in her entire life. The gorgeous little Aussie was onstage, stark naked and being teased. She squirmed under their mocking gaze, wishing she were anywhere else. "Perhaps you will win and then you'll find out for yourself firsthand!" The audience reaction Nicola got from this little performance easily surpassed any of the other girls, and Nicola ruefully realized she might just do that after all. "Last, but not least, contestant #6. Not much up here, unfortunately..." Pumbo reached around and grabbed Angela's left boob, causing her to squeal in indignant surprise. "...but I'm sure she can be put to use in some capacity." Pumbo finished on a lascivious wink that left no-one, least of all Angela, in doubt about whatever 'duties' he was referring to. This got plenty of hoots and hollers from the men. "So," cried Pumbo, "we have the finalists, our 2 new acquisitions! Come on, boys, it's your choice. Which one of these fine pieces of ass should we crown Miss Malabunga?" His hand darted back and forth over Nicola and Angela's heads as Pumbo gauged the audience's support for each girl. Finally, much to Nicola's displeasure, he settled over hers. "We have a winner!" cried Pumbo. The crowd roared their approval. Nicola glanced over at the other girls, who were clapping and smiling, and (she thought) looking more than a little envious. Except for a relieved Angela. Pumbo gently took her by the elbow and led her to the center of the stage. Waves of applause washed over Nicola, swelling her with pride. Maybe this wasn't so bad after all? Pumbo produced a small crown and a sash that read 'Miss Malabunga'. Nicola was absolutely delighted as he draped those trophies of office over her nude body. She adjusted the sash so that it provided a little coverage and gave a cheery wave to the crowd. "Thank-you," Nicola gushed. "Now, what do I really win?" The fat little bureaucrat grinned broadly. "This," he smirked. Quicker than Nicola could've imagined, Pumbo's chubby hands darted out and gave her a shove. With a squeak of surprise the starlet lurched forward and fell off the stage. The assembled guardsmen were obviously waiting for this because they caught her easily and, with a shout of victory, hoisted the naked Nicola into the air. Nicola wriggled furiously but there was nothing she could do. Several strong black hands were clamped around her arms and legs. Any sense of decorum the Miss Malabunga Beauty Contest might've had went out the window, and the audience/judges quite freely groped Nicola's bare ass and squeezed her heaving boobs. The men carried her across the Hall of Heroes towards what looked suspiciously like a bench with stirrups. Nicola was laid down on her back with her legs yanked far apart and locked into place in the stirrups. Her hands were pulled back behind her head and likewise shackled in place. She was still wearing the 'Miss Malabunga' sash, and someone retrieved her crown from the floor and daintily placed it on Nicola's head. Not for the first time since arriving in Malabunga, Nicola found herself forced into a very exposed position. Looking down the length of her body, Nicola could see her juicy pink pussy open and vulnerable to whatever the guardsmen had in mind. As their excited black faces clustered around her, Nicola could guess what that was. The Aussie starlet writhed briefly against her bonds, but she quickly realized the undulations of her glistening naked torso only made them more aroused. It was probably best, she thought, to just lie back and enjoy this. There was some jabbering in Malabunganese and jostling as the guardsmen crowded around Nicola's open legs as if she was a buffet table. There was a great deal of stroking and prodding of Nicola's tender parts going on and she began to feel her pulse race with desire. One of the men- a particularly large brute who must've had some seniority- positioned himself in the prime spot right between Nicola's thighs. A meaty black paw pushed inside her. Nicola let out a gasp as his fingers went to work on her pussy, slipping between her salivating lips and gently fingering her labia. That got the starlet panting in no time. Her black paramour grinned in simple delight at the reaction he was able to elicit from the captured cutie. He ran one finger down the inside of Nicola's cunt then raised it dripping wet into the air and said something in Malabunganese that caused his companions to burst out laughing. Nicola didn't know what he was saying but there was only one language she understood right now- the language of lust. There were hands all around her, squeezing her sensitive boobs, caressing her white skin, roaming over the most intimate places. Despite her imprisonment Nicola was horny and she desperately wanted these big black boys to fuck her silly. The starlet began to wriggle against her bonds again, but this time she wasn't trying to escape. The chorus of whimpers and moans that escaped her succulent lips let everyone know Nicola was coming around to their way of thinking. The big guy kicked off his red silk pants. Nicola glimpsed the monster rearing up from between his legs (and hers!) and gasped. If Prince Seseke thought he was something special, he should take the time to 'inspect' his guards. Not for the first time, the adorable Aussie marveled at how wonderful the Negro cock was. A hush fell across the men, and the Hall of Heroes was quiet except for the sound of Nicola's rapid breathing. The head of her would-be lover's penis glistened in the dim light. Maneuvering the beast with both hands he pressed that moist helmet against Nicola's bare thigh and traced snail-trails on her goosepimped flesh. Nicola shivered. She raised her bum into the air as far as her bonds would allow, trying to force her cunt toward him, urging the giant guardsman to stuff her deliciously as soon as possible. Two big hands hooked underneath Nicola's thighs as the guardsman positioned his outsized pussy-plunger at the mouth of her cunt. With a clench of his bare buttocks, the guardsman eased himself forward, inch by inch feeding himself deep inside Nicola. She let out a long, shuddering sigh as the big black cock slipped in, savoring the delicious friction as it slowly scraped against the sensitive walls of her joy department. Deeper, deeper he entered her, stretching out her cunt as more of his dick was squeezed inside the quivering starlet. Nicola's abdomen squirmed in discomfort as she felt herself fit to burst yet there was still more of him to go. Finally, with Nicola feeling like a huge salami had been inserted in her, the guardsman's balls gently slapped against her ass as he bottomed out. His comrades, who had been watching the operation with silent awe, suddenly broke into a cheer that startled Nicola. Nicola's unnamed lover leaned forward so that his vast bulk hung over her and with a satisfied grunt he began to fuck her vigorously. Held tight by her bonds there wasn't much for Nicola to do by lie there and enjoy it, although the bondage contraption she was shackled to lurched precariously as it bore the hefty, shuddering weight of her mate. Urged on by the other guardsmen, he continued to pound away at the squealing starlet. Thanks to her drooling pussy his massive black cock slithered smoothly in and out of Nicola, making obscene slurping noises with every stroke as if her greedy cunt was trying to swallow him whole. He picked up the pace. Nicola, secured to the bench, juddered all the more. This violent back-and-forth motion was transferred to her boobs, which bounced and wobbled on her chest like a couple of oversize jellies. The other guardsmen- still awaiting their turn- noticed the effect momentum was having on her chesty charms and watched fascinated, occasionally making a no-doubt filthy joke in Malabunganese that would set them off laughing. Suddenly, the guardsmen busy fucking her let out a deep groan, pressing his hips further into Nicola. Deep inside her velvet hollow she could feel that mighty cock spasm. A moment later Nicola felt that rewarding, glowing sensation as her lover emptied the contents of his balls inside her. A monster this size made for quite a gusher and as he pulled out of her his cum was still flowing from his prick, spraying all over Nicola's rippling belly and down her quivering thighs. Nicola had just a moment to agonize the fact that she hadn't cum herself when suddenly there was another guardsman standing between her splayed legs, his black dick nosing its way into her cunt. Perhaps Nicola should've put up some resistance, tried to put the hungry pack of men off, but if truth be told all the adorable Aussie starlet did was wiggle her tush and welcome this new onslaught on her dripping cunt with a contented smile. And so, as guardsmen #2 set to work fucking the captive cutie, Nicola lay back against the hard bench and let herself drift away on a sea of pleasure, as one-by-one the men of the Royal Guard took their turn between her thighs. An unconventional prize, but not an entirely unwelcome one... ********** It was a good thing Nicola could spend most of the next day soaking in the harem's communal bathtub. She was no stranger to gangbangs, but the workout the guardsmen had given her last night was something else! Her cunt had been well and truly reamed and was more than a little tender. She was not alone. Angela was luxuriating in the waters next to her. It seemed that as Nicola was 'entertaining' the men of the Royal Guard last night, Prince Seseke had returned early and promptly called for Angela. Although the raven-haired beauty did not elaborate upon what had taken place in the privacy of the royal apartments, Nicola guessed it had involved the beautifully-crafted set of metal stocks that she herself had been acquainted with. As clothing was pretty scarce for the slavegirls, the unlikely duo were getting used to wandering around the sumptuous palace buck naked, the sensation of warm African air on bare skin, and the lingering stares of the male palace servants on their naked bodies. How the normally homophobic Angela dealt with all of this close, intimate female contact Nicola didn't know. "We have to get out of here," said Angela with fire in her eyes. "And soon." She shivered, as if recalled the events of last night. Nicola nodded. Although at the time she had rather enjoyed her own ordeal she knew that she had to get back to Hollywood and pick up both her life and her career. Despite the beguiling charms of the harem, Nicola was destined to be a starlet and not a slavegirl. At least, she hoped she was. "But how?" Nicola asked. Here they were, under lock and key day and night, surrounded by guards, and even if they did manage to get out of the palace, there was no way to get out of Malabunga. They didn't even have any clothes! Nicola picked herself up and out of the tub, water streaming down her naked body. "If you have any bright ideas," she sighed, "I'll be taking a nap." The adorable Aussie sauntered out of the bathroom and into her bedroom. She stretched her nude body out on the expensive silk sheets. Nicola let out a languid moan, lying on her back with her legs spread, letting her still tender pussy get some cool air. She felt so utterly comfortable, sprawled there with the warmest part of her anatomy exposed to the sultry African breezes wafting through the palace. Soon she was asleep... As she slept Nicola dreamed. A delicious tingling sensation buzzed through her pussy, as if a highly experienced set of fingers were diddling away down there. Nicola moaned, a satisfied smile spreading across her lips. As those soft digits worked her over Nicola's cunt turned liquid, her juices flowing freely down her legs and onto the bed. The starlet began to gyrate her hips, humping that mysterious hand that was giving her such pleasure. It wasn't long before she was gasping in pleasure, furiously humping away. Somewhere in the back of Nicola's slumbering mind she knew it was only dream but it feel sooooo good! The gasps became screams and the next thing Nicola knew she awoke cumming. She took a few moments to catch her breath, glancing around the bedchamber to make sure no-one saw her little performance. That was weird. Nicola didn't usually have naughty dreams, her real sex life was way wilder than anything her imagination could come up with! But she had indeed dreamt someone had wanked her and she had the stains to prove it. Nicola sat up on the bed and leaned forward to inspect her swollen cunt. She slipped a couple of fingers inside herself. She could feel something! Concealed inside the juicy folds of her pussy, Nicola found a small wad of paper. She pulled it out, coated in her love- slime, and opened it up. Dear Nicola, A woman like you could never be content being Seseke's slavegirl! You want to escape I can help you. You must find a way to get access to the East Palace, it provides the best way out. Bide your time and I will be in contact again soon. -A friend Nicola gasped. Someone had sneaked into the harem and slipped her a secret note! 'A friend'- who could that be? Nicola jumped off her bed and dashed into Angela's room next door. When she burst in excitedly, Angela was lying on her bed. Her fingers were jammed in her pussy and she was masturbating furiously, accompanied by a cacophony of squeals and moans. Nicola came to an abrupt halt and stared in surprise at Angela. It took a moment or two for the raven-haired beauty to realize she had an audience. Her hand sprang to her side as if her cunt was red hot and she turned beet red with embarrassment. "Well..." she said lamely, "there's not a lot for us to do around here." "Never mind," Nicola replied handing over the note. "We've got an ally on the outside." "Why's it all sticky?" asked Angela. "Someone slipped it into my snatch while I was sleeping," she said matter-of-factly. "Ewwwww!" cried Angela, dropping it to the floor and frantically wiping her fingers on the bedspread. Nicola ignored her. "All we need is an opportunity to get into the East Palace. That's the first step to getting out of here!" As it turned out they didn't have long to wait. Later that afternoon Susan assembled all the harem girls to make an important announcement. "His Highness's conference has gone terribly well," she gushed in her oh-so- prim English accent. "He bragged to all the other delegates about his harem of gorgeous white girls and many of them were very interested in coming to Malabunga to see it for themselves." Uh-oh, sighed Nicola. She knew that another orgy was just around the corner. Susan, on the other hand, seemed thrilled to be telling everyone they were about to pack- fucked by a bunch of horny black diplomats. A murmur of expectation ran through the slavegirls, except Nicola and Angela who exchanged worried glances. "There will be a big reception banquet," Susan continued, "in which His Highness will fete his guests. We shall be there to serve all their appetites." She winked and grinned at the girls who giggled in glee. "Will we get to wear clothes for this?" interrupted Angela. "Yes, of course!" cried Susan, clapping her hands together. "We'll be putting our bodies on display in our sexy little slavegirl outfits." Nicola was pleased to hear that. Not so much because she'd finally be putting an end to wandering around naked but because she really did like wearing that costume. "Where will the banquet be held?" asked Isabella, her eyes shining in anticipation of being butt-fucked by her master's friends. "The East Palace of course!" Susan replied. Nicola pricked up her ears at that. The East Palace! For the benefit of the two new girls Susan explained. It was one of the most splendid and opulent parts of the Prince's palace, overlooking the beautiful Rusama River as it snaked its way into the dark jungle heart of Africa. It was also right next to the palace's private airfield, which is why it was used to greet important visitors. As the girls eagerly hurried about making preparations for the banquet, Nicola and Angela set about planning to escape. ********** Nicola's first visit to the East Palace was to help arrange the banquet chamber. The stunning starlet was becoming less self- conscious being nude in the palace, and as she entered the impressive hall she felt no shame at being naked in a room full of clothed black people. Most of them were servants bustling about their royal tasks. Nicola's bare white skin made her conspicuous in the crowd, and she felt many a hungry roving eye taking in her exquisite body. And not just eyes- as Nicola eased her way past two men carrying a huge floral centerpiece she felt the unmistakable feeling of a hand pinching her ass. She gave a squeal and spun around to see who it was but in this host of people there was no end of likely perpetrators. Rubbing her sore bottom Nicola realized that any one of these guys could be her mysterious ally. She made her way across the chamber trying to ignore the number of men who 'accidentally' bumped into her swinging boobs or brushed against her succulent ass. When Nicola would turn to confront her groper she would be met with a grinning black face and, realizing that as a white girl in Malabunga, there was nothing she could do about it. Suddenly, from the direction of the kitchens, a voice bawled out: "Where is that lazy-ass white bitch got herself too!?" Nicola scuttled over to where that harpy- like shriek had come from, her tits bouncing with every hurried footfall. There, standing in the doorway to the kitchen, was a monstrously imposing figure. She was a woman, of sorts. Rolls of fat hung off her body, barely concealed inside a red and white blouse and skirt. Her bloated... 'face' (for wont of a better word) was twisted into a bitter scowl as she scanned the great hall for signs of the slavegirl that had been assigned to her. In one meaty paw she wielded a wooden batter- spoon that looked like a trunk of Redwood. This was the formidable Madame Kunte, mistress of the East Palace kitchens. For a moment Nicola gaped at the black ogress. She must've weighted more than half the harem put together. Each of her fleshy arms was thicker than Nicola's waist. Then she adopted a meeker stance and gave a little curtsey. "Here, Madame Kunte." "Not 'Kun-tay'," the fat slag corrected her. "Kun-t. The e is silent" Nicola gallantly suppressed the urge to giggle. "Yes, Madame Kunte." The 'lady' put her hands on her massive hips and shook her head. "What do you think you are? Skinny as a rake but tits like over-ripe watermelons. But I guess His Highness like his bitches that way. Probably fake, too, all you American sluts have fake titties." "Actually," Nicola interjected, "I'm Australian not American." With a shuddering of flab, Madame Kunte's right arm lashed out at Nicola and the wooden spoon landed with a thwack on her bare backside. Nicola yelped in pain, throwing her hands behind her to protect her tender rump. "None of your cheek, you little bimbo," Madame Kunte growled, brandishing the spoon. "Yes ma'am," said Nicola submissively, lowering her head. A few of the other kitchen hands paused, enjoying the spectacle of someone- a white someone- getting chewed out by Madame Kunte. "Well, let's get that tiny little white ass of yours to work. Prove it ain't just good for getting porked by some big black dick, na?" Madame Kunte laughed raucously, setting all seven of her jowls wobbling. Nicola blushed furiously. The pretty prisoner was soon put to work. As she was a prized possession of Prince Seseke the labor was pretty light and didn't involve anything that might blemish her skin. Madame Kunte gave her a list of items that needed to be brought from the big storeroom into the pantry next to the kitchens. Having a completely nude white girl walking around proved to be a distraction to the black staff but no-one seemed to mind too much. As the task of carrying groceries occupied both her hands Nicola was helpless to defend herself against any passing grope that might be visited upon her luscious body. It wasn't long before Nicola was hot and flustered, blushing from her forehead to her bare boobs. Nicola at least took the opportunity to get a good look around. Through one of the (few) windows, she could look across towards the airfield on the edge of the jungle. Although it was only a few hundred yards away it might as well be miles, as the kitchens and storerooms were entirely enclosed and there seemed to be no way out of the palace from here. However, Nicola did notice that there was a sort of alleyway that ran alongside the palace between the kitchens and some rather ugly sheds. Craning her head out the window, Nicola spied a vent that emerged from the side of the building. If she could find the other end of that vent in the kitchens she'd have a way out! Of course, leaning out of the window like that put Nicola's ass temptingly on display. The saucy starlet was still examining the outside of the building when she suddenly felt a sharp smack across her bottom. With a squeal of pain she jumped back inside. "What you think you doing?" demanded Madame Kunte, wielding the fearsome wooden spoon that had so recently been used to assault Nicola's posterior. "I was just... admiring the view," Nicola replied, rubbing her stinging ass. It seemed that this, of all her adventures, involved the most amount of violence inflicted upon her poor bare bottom! Madame Kunte eyed her suspiciously. "Time to take a break now. Go into the kitchen for your lunch." She turned ponderously and waddled away, her massive buttocks slapping together like a couple of bumper-cars. Nicola sat alone at one of the tables munching away on a sandwich. The rest of the staff sat far away from her, occasionally looking in her direction and tittering. She was just finishing up when Madame Kunte waddled into the kitchens and eased her vast bulk into a large wicker chair that sat in one corner. She sat there like an obese queen surveying her miniature kingdom. Nicola couldn't help but stare, Madame Kunte was one of the most repulsive people she'd ever seen. Take all the slimiest producers in Hollywood, lump them all together into a single blob, and the resulting creature wouldn't be half as fat and disgusting as the mistress of the East Palace kitchens. Madame Kunte caught Nicola's eye and gave an evil grin. "Slut," she called out, beckoning with her spoon. "Come here." Nervously, Nicola stood up and walked over to her. "Y-yes, Mistress?" "As you can see, Madame Kunte ain't got no footstool upon which to rest her weary feet. Get down on your hands and knees." Horrified, Nicola realized what she had in mind. But there was nothing she could do about it. Slowly, she sunk down to the floor and crouched in front of Madame Kunte on all fours, her big boobs hanging down underneath her. Cackling with glee, Madame Kunte kicked off her shoes to reveal two fat, scarred, bunioned lumps of flesh that might've once been feet. They gave off such a stench that Nicola was almost knocked over. She braced herself as Madame Kunte none too gently plonked her feet on Nicola's bare back. "Ahhh!" sighed the obese Negress. "Dis is de life!" The rest of the kitchen staff erupted into laughter, enjoying the spectacle of Madame Kunte tormenting the naked slavegirl. The sight of the Westerner, naked and kneeling on the floor with Madame Kunte's feet resting on her was the best entertainment they'd seen in ages and they milked every moment of it. Nicola blushed, and just concentrated on the thought of the freedom that would soon be hers... Mercifully, lunch was short. Madame Kunte eventually got her feet off Nicola and she was able to get up from the floor and go back to work. Nicola made her way back to the storeroom. She stood in the dim light looking up at the walls. After a short search she found what she was looking for: a vent. She clambered over a couple of steps to get a closer look. It was covered by a metal grille that, after a few tugs, came away. Nicola set the grille aside and peered into the darkness. Much to her disappointment, Nicola realized the vent was very narrow. Glancing around to make sure no-one was watching, she experimented by shoving her head and shoulders inside. With a sigh of relief, Nicola discovered she would fit- but only just. "Where that girl got to?" she heard Madame Kunte bellow. Quickly Nicola replaced the grille over the vent. "Just coming!" she cried back. There was only one thing left that needed to be brought down to the pantry- a big bag of flour. Nicola hefted the heavy load into her arms and stumbled out of the storeroom with her burden. Nicola didn't get very far down the corridor when suddenly something (or someone) tripped her up. With a squeal of shock she tumbled ass-over-tits and landed face-forward on top of the bag of flour. The force of her crash caused the bag to explode, white powder flying everywhere- most of it onto Nicola herself. The adorable Aussie lay dazed on the floor, her naked body liberally coated with flour. From all around her came the sound of laughter. But then a shadow fell over her, as if an enormous bulk was blocking out the sun. "What the hell you think you doing now?" Madame Kunte demanded. She looked at the mess Nicola was sitting in the middle of and her piggy little eyes narrowed. "Why you dump all that flour all over yerself? You think no-one notice, neh?" Nicola tried to stammer a reply but Madame Kunte wasn't interested. She shook her head. "Stupid white bimbo! Only good for fucking. You get out of here now, go back to harem." Laughter ringing in her ears Nicola got up from the floor and made a fruitless attempt to clean the flour off her body. "You go now!" yelled Madame Kunte and aimed a particularly vicious blow with the wooden spoon on Nicola's dusty ass. With both her self-esteem and her backside smarting, Nicola fled the kitchens. ********** "God, manual labor! Don't they realize a woman of my caliber doesn't waste her talents doing menial work?" moaned Angela. Nicola stood with her back to a mirror, examining her exquisite ass for signs of bruising. Angela reclined lazily on the bed complaining about the work she had to do. Nicola wasn't really listening to her very much but that didn't stop the bitchy beauty. "I mean look at these hands! Are these the sort of hands you just throw away on grunt work?" Nicola carefully appraised the condition of her firm buttocks. As a model it was always important to look her best, and her ass was no exception. She dreaded to think that Madame Kunte may've permanently damaged one of her best assets. Thankfully, apart from being covered in flour, she was fine. "What did they make you do again?" Nicola asked absently. Angela rolled her eyes theatrically. "Flower arranging." Nicola was just finishing her inspection when she noticed something clenched between her cheeks. She reached behind her and plucked it out. "It's another note!" "Yuck," said Angela. "Whoever this person is they have an unhealthy obsession with your bodily orifices." Dear Nicola- Good work on finding a way out through the storerooms. You must escape during the banquet. I will have a plane fuelled and ready to leave. Good luck! So, thought Nicola, they had a way of out Malabunga. Now all they how to was escape the palace... ********** If she didn't know they were all captive slavegirls, Nicola would've sworn she was hanging out with a bunch of naughty co-eds. As they got ready for the banquet the girls giggled, gossiped, swapped makeup tips and cooed over each other's outfits. They were all dressed in the same slavegirl outfits Nicola and Angela had been made to wear when they first arrived. Although the kidnapped starlets now finally had something to wear it really wasn't all much of an improvement. The daring little costumes were obviously designed not to cover up but show off the wearer's body. Nicola slipped the gold belt around her middle, adjusted it so that it was tight against her trim tummy. Next, she took a length of gauzy chiffon, folded it and slipped it under and over the belt, making a sort of loose, hanging veil to cover her crotch. Behind her, Susan did the same with a second slip of material, providing scant cover for her bare ass. Next came the 'top', another piece of almost-transparent silk that was wound loosely around Nicola's generous boobs. As before it not only did little to conceal but provided no support so Nicola's tits would bob and jiggle with the slightest move. This would cause her nipples to brush against the soft fabric in a way that the adorable Aussie found mouth-wateringly good. By the time they put her heels on Nicola was feeling rather horny. Angela was less enthusiastic about wearing the revealing little outfit, but then again she didn't fill it out quite as well as Nicola did. Their heels tapping on the marble floors, the girls made their way to the East Palace where the banquet was already well under way. They arrived at the entrance to the banquet hall where Pumbo and a squad of guards awaited them. "You will enter when told," the fat little official informed them. "And don't forget to do anything and everything to amuse our guests. They are His Highness's peers. If one of you fails to perform your duties I will personally see to your punishment." "Don't worry Master Pumbo," Susan replied. "We're ready to serve the Prince with all our talents." Nicola strained to hear what was going on inside the banquet hall. She could hear a deep, powerful voice- undoubtedly Prince Seseke- but couldn't quite make out what he was saying. Suddenly, he was drowned out but a burst of raucous laughter that must've come from his guests. It made Nicola remember the 'beauty contest' she had so recently won. "Now, enter," ordered Pumbo. The guards swung open the double doors that led into the banquet hall. With their heads held high, the slavegirls marched into the chamber. It was definitely a memorable entrance. Seated around the banquet table were ten elegant black men, a rogue's gallery of monarchs, presidents and prime ministers from various African nations. As the girls entered they were greeted with eager applause as each of those men turned their ogling gaze on Prince Seseke's collection of white slavegirls. Smiling demurely, the scantily-clad girls paraded through the banquet hall making sure the guests got a good eyeful of their charms, barely concealed by their wispy little outfits. Nicola took the opportunity to glance around. Scimitar-wielding guards manned all of the exits, except of course for the archway that led through to the kitchens. But she was careful not to arouse any suspicions (dicks yes, suspicions no), so Nicola maintained her smile and fixed her attention on the men she was supposed to serve. Flaunting her gorgeous body, Nicola felt that familiar thrill of exhibitionism. Her cheeks flushed and her already-impressive bosom swelled with pride to see all those eager eyes roving over her body. But the starlet had to remind herself that this was definitely not the life for her, she would be equally happy showing off her bare ass for a roomful of Hollywood producers and the rewards would be more tangible. The girls arranged themselves in a circle around the table, posing like models so that the guests could get a better look at them. Nicola found herself standing next to a withered old black man who couldn't have been more than five foot tall, peering at her through a pair of spectacles. "Ahh..." he murmured, reaching out to stroke Nicola's bare thigh. "I've always thought that all of the world's problems were caused because women were allowed to wear pants." Nicola's heart fluttered at the sensation of his hand on her skin. The old coot didn't look like much but he carried himself like a natural-born ruler, and if there was one thing guaranteed to open Nicola's legs it was power. "Are they really all your slaves?" asked a tall, elegant fellow who was eyeing up Charlotte's boobs. "Of course!" beamed Prince Seseke. "Each of these white beauties has been trained to be subservient to her black masters. Go ahead! Enjoy yourself." The guest turned back to Charlotte and plunged his hand into her cleavage. Apart from a slight gasp the Southern Belle didn't complain. In a moment they were all exploring the girls, testing the limits of their servility, and the hall was drowned in excited babbling. Nicola's admirer's hand slipped under the lick of silk covering her ass and gave her an affectionate pat. "I look forward to discussing what reparations white Europeans owe we black Africans, my dear," he said with a leer. "Gentlemen, gentlemen," Prince Seseke called for attention. "Now that you've got a good look at the succulent dishes on the menu tonight, perhaps you'd like to begin our meal." The guests laughed, and it was time for the girls to act as waitresses for the banquet. They made their way into the kitchens, where the formidable Madame Kunte was bawling instructions to her staff. Thankfully, the ogress was too busy to waste time spanking Nicola, so her tasty ass remained unmolested for now. First course was soup. The girls were paired up, one of them carried the steaming bowl while the other was on ladle duty. Nicola was teamed with Angela (of course) and the captive cuties returned to the banquet hall to serve their masters. With her hands full, Nicola had little chance to fend off the wandering hands that went straight for her tender nether regions as they served the soup. All she could do was blush and accept their gropes with good grace. As Nicola stood next to one man in a dashiki (a lucky coincidence for him that he was ethnically able to wear the garment, as he was too grossly fat to wear anything else) a probing hand made straight for her joy department. The loincloth-like strip of silk offered little resistance, and in a second the stranger had slipped a couple of fingers deep into the moistest part of Nicola's anatomy. The starlet squealed in surprise, throwing up her hands. The bowl of hot soup went flying into the air, landing with a crash onto the expensive lace tablecloth. Liquid splashed in all directions, splattering most of the guests. "Oops," said Nicola in a tiny voice. Everyone turned to look at her in surprise. To Nicola it felt like an eternity as the entire hall stared at her. Then they burst out laughing- all of them except fatty- dashiki. "What do you think you are doing?!" he bellowed. "S-sorry, sir," Nicola stammered. "Seseke! Is this how you allow your guests to be treated in your own palace?" The Prince was obviously more amused than angry. "I'm sorry, Mr. President, that one has a particularly rebellious streak. It adds to her other, more obvious charms." His guest still quivered with rage. "I demand you punish this clumsy bimbo right now." Prince Seseke stroked his beard thoughtfully, and then grinned devilishly. "I have just the thing in mind..." He motioned to the guards and before Nicola knew it two pairs of beefy black hands had seized her. In what was no doubt a well- rehearsed maneuver, they grabbed her meager clothing and a few rips later, Nicola was completely naked with a few shred of silk lying at her feet. "Bring in my stocks!" Seseke called, and another set of guards jumped to obey. There was nothing Nicola could do as the hateful artifact of humiliation was brought into the banquet hall. The floral centerpiece was removed and the stocks set up in their place. The hapless starlet looked up balefully at the restraints: a fearsome skeleton-like metal frame that reminded Nicola uncomfortably of some kind of an overgrown insect. She was manhandled up onto the table and clamped into the mount. Although normally she loved the limelight, this wasn't exactly the way Nicola liked to be the center of attention. She was forced down into a bent-over position, her ass sticking out and her boobs hanging down beneath her. Nicola's face burned crimson as she felt Prince Seseke and his guests staring in unashamed delight at her predicament, lapping up the spectacle of the gorgeous white girl chained up. "Now, for the punishment!" cried the dashiki'd President, who was all for jumping onto the table and metering it out himself. "No!" commanded Seseke with surprising force. His guest slumped sheepishly back into his chair. "We shall enjoy a civilized meal first," the Prince continued in much smoother tones. "And then we shall be about our business with this naughty slavegirl." Nicola realized that Seseke wanted his guests to enjoy her discomfort for as long as possible. She squirmed helplessly but the metal held her tender flesh tight. Angela cast her a furious glance, how were they supposed to escape with her shackled up? There was nothing for it but to wait and see how it all played out. The rest of the dinner was surprisingly urbane. A passing stranger would, at first glance, see a group of black men enjoying an excellent meal and some good conversation, who just happened to be served by scantily clad white women, and were seated around a beautiful girl locked into a set of metal stocks in a very compromising position. It was probably the most uncomfortable meal Nicola had ever attended in her life... The courses proceeded quickly. Although her head was held face down, Nicola could crane her neck upwards and glance around at her audience, noting that they were eying her up hungrily. With the main course finished, one of the white-clad servants approached Prince Seseke and whispered in his ear. A broad smile spread across his thick lips and he clapped his hands together. "An excellent suggestion!" "What is it, Seseke?" demanded the aggrieved President, no doubt impatient to get to work on Nicola. "There is still one course left!" cried the Prince. "It seems one of our white sluts has exercised what little brains she possesses and made a suggestion as to what we might like to have for dessert." With a munificent sweep of his arm, Prince Seseke indicated the archway to the kitchens. In through the portal paraded his five other slavegirls: the elegant Susan, the busty Charlotte, the tall, sleek Isabella, the petite Marie, and finally Nicola's bitchy fellow starlet Angela. Still dressed in their scanty slavegirl costumes, the girls carried between them several heavy vats. The girls set their load down on the marble floor and proceeded to strip off their clothes to the delight of the guests. "Gentlemen," announced the Prince. "For your dining pleasure, I give you what will from now on be Malabunga's national dessert: slavegirl dipped in honey!" Charlotte and Isabella both picked up one of the vats and upended it over Susan's head. It was quite an amusing sight, to see her prim little English smile dissolve as the torrent of golden, sticky honey oozed over. Susan gave a slight squeak of surprise as the sweet-smelling goo flowed over her naked body. Peeked up at her, Nicola had to admit she made a very tasty- looking dish. One by one, each of the girls was smothered in honey so that their nude bodies glistened in the lamplight. Then Angela approached Prince Seseke and prostrated herself at his feet. "O great Prince," she said, "even though the slavegirl Nicola has disgraced your Highness before your guests, would you consent to her, too, being lathered in honey for the sole purpose of your gratification?" Seseke puffed himself up with pride, enjoying being addressed like this by his white slavegirls. "It pleases me," he announced. Angela stood up respectfully and, together with Marie, they climbed up onto the banquet table with the last tub of honey. "What the hell is going on?" whispered Nicola. "It's the honey," Angela hissed back. "It'll help you slip out of the locks." Before Nicola could pass comment on their plan Angela and Marie began pouring the sticky syrup all over her. It oozed over her chestnut-colored hair, down her pretty face and over her shoulders. Nicola shivered at the not-unpleasant sensation of honey running down her bare boobs. The girls used their hands to smear the gooey mess all over Nicola's naked body, working it into every nook and cranny. Marie made sure that Nicola's pussy and ass was well lubricated with honey, while Angela surreptitiously rubbed it into her wrists and ankles where the metal clamps held her tight. Once Nicola was covered in the sticky, sweet-smelling liquid, Angela and Marie stepped down from the table. "Fuck dessert," said the President. "All I want is to fuck that dessert." He pointed at Nicola and jumped to his feet. Despite the limited field of vision her stocks afforded her, Nicola would see him staring hungrily at her bare ass. Prince Seseke gave a theatrical sigh. "Well brothers? Now that our other appetites are sated, perhaps we move on and sample the white sweetmeats who have served us so well thus far?" This was greeted with an excited babble of approval from the assembled African dignitaries, who were doubtless looking forward to porking one or more of the saucy little slavegirls who had tantalized them so much all night. But it looked very much like the orgy would begin with Nicola being very publicly butt- fucked while locked in the Prince's ornate metal stocks. With his tongue hanging out, the President made to scramble onto the dinner table but a scowl from Seseke sent him whimpering like a puppy back to his seat. "After me," growled the Prince, "you can be first." Despite his love for entertaining, Seseke didn't like to share his toys with his guests. Nicola was aware of the Prince climbing up onto the table behind her. She remembered her first night in Malabunga, when she had been in a similar situation in his private rooms. But now she had an audience, and everywhere Nicola looked she saw a grinning black face, expectantly waiting for the show to begin. She glanced over toward the kitchens, the direction of freedom. Everyone's attention was fixed on the hapless starlet, the guests, guards, servants and other slavegirls. Taking advantage of this, Angela had quietly sidled around by the exit. She made a frantic gesture to Nicola, indicating it was time they made their escape attempt. There was a rustle behind her, and Nicola knew that Prince Seseke had cast off his silk pants. Something wet and slimy nuzzled against her ass, unmistakably the head of the Royal Wang being rubbed against her backside, a prelude to the ass-fucking that was to come. Nicola wriggled her honey-coated wrists against the metal clamps and was relieved to find them starting to slip free. Likewise, she felt her ankles slide out of the iron circlets that held her in place. Thank goodness for shoddy Malabunganese workmanship! Prince Seseke grinned as he eyed up Nicola's quivering sphincter. So fresh, so tight! Taking his cock in both hands he pushed the head against that brown little hole, enjoying the sensation of the captive cutie's anus reluctantly beginning to open to admit the intruder. The adorable Aussie gave a sharp intake of breath as the Prince's dick began to slowly penetrate her tender ass. Time to get out of here right now! The guests began to whistle and applaud, all pretence of a civilised banquet slipping away as the orgy began. The noise they were making battered Nicola, making her heart pound all the more. Nicola squeezed her eyes shut and pulled her arms back as hard as she could. With a slurp-pop her slippery hands burst free from the clamps the moment Prince Seseke's cock pushed into her back passage. She gasped in surprise and stood up straight. Upon seeing their prey unexpectedly pop free of her bounds, her audience were struck dumb. Nicola took the opportunity to wrench her feet free from the stocks. While everyone was still gaping at her, the starlet bounded off the table, Seseke's cock slurping free from her butt and hanging limply down his leg. "Run!" Nicola cried to Angela, and the pair dashed through into the kitchens. Prince Seseke finally came to his senses, realizing his tasty like playthings were getting away. "Guards! Grab those slavegirls!" The pair ran through the kitchens, past Madame Kunte and her staff who were just as stunned as everyone else. Into the storeroom they dashed, Angela wrenching off the grille that covered their escape route. Nicola paused, hearing the pounding foot- falls of the guards right behind them. "You go ahead," Nicola gasped, "I've got an idea that'll buy us some time." As the slippery, nude Angela slithered into the vent, Nicola turned and hollered into the kitchen: "Oi! Madame Cunt! Your cooking smells worse than your feet, yer fat slag!" The obese kitchen mistress turned purple with rage. With a bellow, she surged forward, an enraged mass of blubber. Nicola's heart leapt in fear at the sight of just how fast Madame Kunte could move when she wanted. The guards paused in their pursuit, judiciously getting out of the charging monster's way. One of them was a little too slow, and with a squeal of agony the unfortunate man was stomped beneath Madame Kunte's thunderous legs. "You little slut! I kill you!" the Negress screamed, bearing down on Nicola. At the last moment the starlet dived into the open vent. It was a tight squeeze, but thankfully she was buck-naked and still lubricated with a generous quantity of honey. Madame Kunte dived after her, but of course there was no chance of cramming her vast bulk into the vent. The upper part of her body was firmly jammed in the entrance, blocking any attempt to follow the escapees. Without so much as a parting glance at the flailing Madame Kunte, Nicola began to crawl through the vent. It was a curious experience, wriggling along that narrow, metal tunnel, and one that Nicola felt strangely arousing. Warm air flowed over her naked body as she slithered over the sheets of aluminum. Angela had already left a snail-trail of warm honey, and Nicola found that by pulling herself along facedown she not only made good progress but also felt rather a nice sensation in her groin. Nicola imagined herself slip-sliding up a giant metal vagina, and the thought made her giggle like a schoolgirl. But she knew she had yet to make it out of the palace, let alone Malabunga. Finally, Nicola emerged from the other end of the vent and dropped into the alleyway. Angela was there waiting, lurking in the shadows, and still as naked as Nicola. Now her lean, lustrous body was covered in splotches of dirt and grime from her crawl through the vent, and Angela's normally immaculately coiffed mane was rather dishevelled. "You took your damn time," sniffed the bitchy starlet. "There'll be plenty of time for catfighting when we get back to Hollywood," said Nicola breathlessly. "Let's get out of here now!" The two nude fugitives turned to exit the alley, but a figure blocked their path. A rather plump figure wielding a scimitar. Pumbo. "So," the corpulent bureaucrat drawled, "this is how it ends. I'm sorry to cut your little escape short, but it is time for you to return to the harem. Each of your pretty white asses has a date with a big, fat black cock." Nicola's heart fell. To come all this way just to be stopped when they were so close! What a plot twist! She was used to her life resembling bad porno fiction, but this was ridiculous! But Angela stepped forward. "Leave this to me," she said evenly. "I owe this bastard for what he did to my butt." Grinning, Pumbo stepped forward. He brandished the scimitar before him, its wickedly curved edge glinting in a single shaft of sunlight falling through the alley. Quicker than Nicola's eye could follow, Angela's right foot lashed out, catching Pumbo on the chin. His head snapped back and he staggered. Angela skip-jumped, and this time her left foot knifed into Pumbo's crotch with such force that even Nicola winced. Seseke's chamberlain turned the most peculiar shade of purple. He dropped the scimitar and with a deep groan keeled over. "Where did you learn to do that?" Nicola asked. "'Buck-Naked Kickboxing Bimbos III'," Angela replied. "Actually, I only ever learned to do that move when I'm not wearing pants." She bent over and picked up the sword, peering at its pommel with an evil glint in her eye. As Nicola watched, Angela yanked down Pumbo's pants, baring his fat ass. A moment later, Pumbo gave a squeal of shock as Angela claimed her payback. Leaving the little man writing around on the ground with the blunt end of his scimitar in a very uncomfortable place, the starlets ran towards the airstrip. The girls burst out from the cover of the alley, the hot African sun washing across their nude bodies. Nicola was so nervous she was sweating, beads of moisture forming on her perfect, naked body. At the far end of the strip she could see a Cessna plane, its propeller churning through the humid air. Nicola's heart leapt for joy. Whoever their mysterious benefactor was, they had come through. "Come on!" Nicola cried, grabbing Angela by the arm. "Stop!" a booming voice shouted at them. "You are my property, come back here now!" It was Prince Seseke, dashing across the airfield from the direction of his palace. He was still naked from the waist down, his cock flapping comically between his legs as he ran to intercept the girls, followed closely by a squad of his guards. The starlets took off as fast as their shapely legs could carry them, knowing that they were running for their freedom. Lithe Angela quickly took the lead, Nicola lagging a little behind. Sprinting along caused her hefty boobs to pound back and forth across her chest (something Angela didn't have to contend with), and the saucy starlet wished that somewhere along this adventure she'd managed to get hold of a sports bra. As they rapidly approached the Cessna, Nicola tried to make out just who was sitting at the controls, but all she could see through the canopy was a dark silhouette waving at them to hurry up. She risked a glance back over her shoulder and saw her former master hot on her heels. Angela reached the plane first and bounded into the rear compartment. "Move it, lardass! Or I'm leaving you behind." A moment later Nicola caught up, and climbed into the plane as it began to taxi along the runway, slamming the door shut behind her. Seseke and his men continued to give chase but as the Cessna picked up speed the enraged Prince was left further and further behind. Nicola still clenched her teeth, worried that they weren't out of the woods yet. It wasn't until the plane's wheels gently rose off the ground that she at last felt safe. Far behind them, Seseke finally came to a halt, panting with the exertions of the chase. His guards, catching up to him, noticed for the first time he wasn't wearing any pants. They exchanged smirking glances and a few titters were heard. "Shut up," Seseke muttered and stalked back towards his palace. Nicola looked down at the receding African jungle and sighed a sigh of relief. There was, however, still one more mystery that needed to be solved. From the rear cabin all Nicola could see of their pilot and benefactor was his (her?) shoulder and the back of their helmet. "Dammit!" murmured Angela, searching through the cabin. "Isn't there anything to wear?" Nicola pushed past her, heading for the cockpit. "Who are you?" Nicola cried, trying to raise her voice above the din of noise inside the plane. Slowly, the pilot turned around, revealing- "Akumba!" Nicola gasped. He twisted his thick lips into a crooked smile. "Actually, the name's Joe Gribble," he said, his accent miraculously transformed to sharp, unmistakeably Californian tones. "*The* Joe Gribble?" asked Angela, coming up behind Nicola. "Of Blackguard Pictures?" "That's me, sweetheart," he replied modestly. Instantly smelling money and power, Angela's eyes lit up. "Oh my," she purred. "If only I'd known we'd have such distinguished company, I'd've put some clothes on." She coyly fanned herself, thus drawing his attention to her slim, naked body. "But," Nicola butted in before Angela started fucking his leg like a bitch in heat, "you kidnapped us in the first place, Seseke paid you." "Yup," he replied. "Ysee, I'm casting a new movie called 'Captured Beauties', about a pair of gorgeous tourists who get kidnapped and whipped off to join an African prince's harem. Your agents recommended the two of you for the leads." "So, this was all just a sort of audition?" Nicola asked, not believing what she was hearing. "You could call it that. I thought this way would be a lot more fun for all involved." He gave the starlet a naughty wink. Nicola opened her mouth to indignantly reply that it had not been fun, but, on a moment's reflection, she realized that the past couple of days hadn't been that bad. "Do we get the parts?" Angela asked eagerly. "Maybe..." Gribble replied. "We'll see." "At least we're heading back to Hollywood," Nicola sighed. "Actually, we're heading for Cannes. I'm having a little soiree there tonight for some of my European contacts." He glanced back at the naked starlets. "I could do with a couple of gorgeous girls to help with the... 'entertainment'. You wouldn't mind, wouldcha? Could really help cinch those roles." Nicola rolled her eyes. Things really were back to normal! END.