"I-I don't think I'd be interested."
The King was growing increasingly impatient. "Perhaps you would rather I sold you to an Arab slaver from the north!"
Penny swallowed tightly. "I-Is there a difference?" she managed with a burst of bravery that surprised even herself.
Jabavu's inky-black face bloated heavily with rage, then calmed as he realized that he had been selling the wrong points. After what had happened just moments before, he knew full well where her weakness lay. "The Djambulu are not jealous like the other tribes," he explained with a wicked smile. "We do not circumcise our women…and they are free to take lovers…even the King's wives." Again, Penny opened her mouth to protest, but the King raised his hand to stay her. "As a Djambulu Queen, there are no avenues closed to your freedom of sexual expression. Do you like to whip or be whipped?" Penny cast her eyes downward in embarrassment. The pitchi bark was apparently still working. "Perhaps sex with small children or animals appeals to you?" The idea of such things were positively abhorrent to the young American girl. Her pussy lips flowered open. "I have one wife who has sex with her own son and another who indulges herself with hyenas. Perhaps-"
"Stop it! STOP IT!"
The King smiled indulgently. "Perhaps you should reserve your decision until after the performance," he suggested.
***Luckily, the ignition key was still in the dash. That would save precious time. Doug turned it, hit the starter-clutch pedal and fed the engine a little gas. It roared into life and Doug sighed with relief. Quickly, just as the little corporal came running out the door with his arms waving wildly in the air above his head, the angry young husband dropped the vehicle into gear and sped off in the direction of the gate. It was a good twenty miles to Liberte in mounting darkness…on a road that even a native, Montanan like himself had to consider lousy.
Judging from the sun's position, it must have been very close to five o'clock. And, judging from what he'd seen of the Major's bravery, he supposed that he would either be staying over in Liberte until morning, or starting back to Dakar before sunset so he could be safely out of Djambulu country by the time darkness settled in for the night. He had no way of knowing just which were the Major's plans. He knew full-well that M'Bonu would in no circumstances be willing to make the return trip to Mgoro twice in one day after he'd been safely re-ensconced in Dakar.
He hurried, making the torturous twenty miles run to Liberte at top speed. When he caught sight of the drippy red letters, Jungle Bar, on the front of the ramshackle building at the end of the steep mountain street he actually managed a small smile. There, in front like a horse tied to a hitching rail, was the Major's Land-Rover, its official green, yellow and red Sengalese tri-color flapping idly from the radio aerial in the light afternoon breeze.
CHAPTER NINE
Penny was already starting her fourth glass of poma when the King's several naked servants began to clear away the last of the evening's dinnerware. The meal of rice and fish cooked in peanut oil had been surprisingly delicious, and she found herself feeling suddenly relaxed. "Is the show about to start now?" she whispered quietly to the King.
Jabavu looked at the naked white girl seated next to him on the throne and smiled. He was pleased to see that the poma was beginning to affect her. "Yes, it is," he replied. "But first, the stage must be set."
The stage, as Penny soon found out, consisted of a four-poster brass bed that the Djambulu had picked up on one of their endless raids. The two burly servants who brought it into the room turned it at a right angle to the throne, then bowed graciously before their master before turning to leave.
"Now the show is about to begin," the fat King winked.
Penny emitted a startled gasp as a beautiful young white girl was ushered into the room from a side door. She was fully dressed in the clothes she'd been captured in, and Penny guessed her to be no older than eighteen or nineteen. She had dark hair, but her features were quite light and appealing.
"Is she French?" she queried, leaning closer to the King.
"She's Portuguese," the black ruler explained. "Da Silva captured her on his last raid to Guine."
"What's she going to do?"
"Just watch, Penny. You will see, you will see." There was an ominous tone in his voice which caused the fine hairs on the back of Penny's neck to bristle.
The girl walked around the bed as if she weren't quite sure of herself. But her eyes were glazed with pitchi, and it was obvious that she had been carefully rehearsed, more than likely by the surprising Danielle.
Unprompted, the girl began to remove her clothes just like any girl her age might do if she were preparing herself for bed. The only thing that made her different was the fantastic shape of her sensual young body. Her dark hair was silky and long, tied back in a ponytail style, and as she removed her dress, she had to swing the long strand of hair out of the way. There was something about the way she moved that gave her the appearance of feline sensuality, and she was almost purring as her dress came off over her head. Her undergarments were black and lacy, and even with a bra on, it was apparent that her breasts were round and full. Almost casually, the young girl ran her hands lightly over her hips and belly as if feeling a stirring sensation within, and then she reached behind her back to unfasten the lacy bra. It fell away from her luscious body like it was propelled by breasts strapped in too tightly, and the white smooth skin of her firm full breasts shimmered golden in the torchlight. They were as magnificent as any imagination would have them, and after dropping her bra to the fur-covered floor, she rubbed her palms over the tips of the tiny brown nipples in such a way as to instantly make them rise into hardness.
Penny shifted nervously as she watched the young Portuguese girl. It surprised her to see the young girl act so oblivious to her and the King seated on the throne. She was so close to the girl that she felt she could reach out and touch her, and yet she felt embarrassed to be watching. It seemed so…so indecent. Especially since Penny was naked and exposed herself.
The girl was walking around with her breasts pointing straight out, naked for all the world to see. Penny was glad the girl still had black panties on at least, and she seemed to be leaving them alone, but the total picture the girl presented seemed very indecent to her in any case.
Penny picked up her glass of poma and nervously drained it. Immediately, the King refilled her glass from the large clay pot Danielle had left, and she was about to pick it up when she was started by the sudden intrusion of a tall gaunt African charging nakedly into the room from a side door. It was Ojike, the Glassers Mgoro houseboy! Instantly, she knew the truth of her and Doug's capture…and the houseboy's tremendous erection that last day in camp. Ojike was no more than a common traitor!
Still, Penny held her glass tightly as she watched the evil houseboy engage in a mock struggle with the lovely Portuguese girl. He overpowered her easily, and holding her arms behind her naked back, he reached under the pillow of the bed and pulled out some short lengths of ropes. Everything seemed to happen at lightning speed, and the next thing Penny saw was the girl being bent forward at the head of the bed. With quick movements, the naked Ojike tied the girl's fragile wrists to the brass stead at the head of the bed. The treacherous houseboy was around behind her in a flash, and he rapidly tied the girl's ankles wide apart, each fastened to the bed's rear legs. Penny was completely awed by the sight before her, and wondered if they weren't perhaps re-enacting the poor girl's capture. The girl was like a prisoner on the bed, her beautiful young body held tightly between the metal pipes, her full jutting breasts squashed down against the mattress. Her arms were pulled parallel with the bed, and she was lying face down as though her buttocks were a target. With her legs tied to the foot of the bedstead, the girl looked highly vulnerable to anything the man might do…especially when he began to wedge the wadded pillow under her flat stomach in order to elevate her buttocks.