CHAPTER FIVE
She could not have been sleeping long again when she felt pulled over closer against the wall. In her half-asleep state, she dreamed that it was Daranje Kawat and she hadn't the strength or sense of will to move and listen or open her eyes to be sure of what was going on. She sensed the stopping of trousers from a dark muscular body, and she heard them drop dully on the earthen ground. Then there was silence, except for a deep breathing. Was there no one else in the room? She tensed her body and waited for the touch of hands on her back but there was none.
Balloo stood naked for a long moment looking down at the white girl before removing his pants. He knew she was only half asleep and hazily aware of him, that he was studying her. He hoped she could feel the hot trails of desire and admiration his eyes left behind them as they roved over her reclining form.
"Pretty white bitch," she suddenly heard through the stillness like a sudden wave on a calm ocean. Her first reaction was to turn her head and see where the strange, suddenly tender, voice came from. No, it was not Daranje Kawat. What had she expected? But it was Balloo, at least, and she could see no one else around through the hazy blurred vision of her straining eyes. Yet she almost didn't recognize this Balloo from the tenderness with which he spoke. Perhaps it was because there was no one else there. The softness of his voice sheared the harsh savage away and made him something else, something human that she had mysteriously felt in him before but had not really seen until this instant. It unsettled her and confused her thoughts. She had considered them all as nothing but a bunch of wild animals, more careless than a lion of its own species. Now, with the sudden tenderness of this leader of the group, she was no longer certain. She had feared him before and sought his protection just like a fellow animal and out of necessity.
She felt the mat give a little beneath his weight as he sat down beside her. She cringed away from his nakedness out of habit although she was not as frightened by it as she had been in the beginning. There was really nothing more for her to fear except death itself, so when his hand come to rest softly on her back, her body did not jerk automatically away. Balloo's hand moved slowly on her back, mistaking her slight tremble from the lewd pictures she had dreamed and which had started to form again in her mind for the beginning of surrender.
In a way, the half drunken Balloo was right. The girl had surrendered but not for the reason he so much wanted her to. The will to resist had been totally destroyed because there was nothing else he could do to her that had not already been done. He would rather have her reason be as great as his when he gave up his chance with the king's mistress to have the missionary's white daughter. But Julie simple could stand the threat of sudden pain no more and her fatigue-wracked body was almost beyond feeling anything but the desire for the peace from which it had been so cruelly disturbed when she had been kidnapped from her home only last night, although it seemed months ago now. So she was his, both mint and body now, and the tenderness with which he touched her helped quiet her fears and inspired hope for a quick rescue. Meanwhile, as long as he was a barrier between herself and the others, she could lie still and let him play with her as he wished, gratefully.
The primitive leader, sobering slightly from the sight of the voluptuous young white girl stretched languidly on the mat beside him, gazed down at her with an almost religious reverence. He would have given anything in the world at that moment if he could have possessed her permanently under different circumstances, but to give her back to her father was a necessary sacrifice. The whiteness of her skin made no difference to him, but she had been so clean and innocent and untouched, except for the rape that he and the others had imposed, which didn't count.
Julie felt her body begin to shiver as his black hands moved down over her soft round ass and began pushing the hem of her robe she had been given to wear up the backs of her thighs. She could hear him breathing heavily behind her and wanted to turn and look at his face to see if it reflected the sudden gentility with which his hands moved but she didn't dare. She was afraid it would and suddenly and he would without warning again crept into the violence he had the first time he had taken her in the old car. He nudged her hips up from the mat, and she lifted without resistance to the gentle pressure to allow him to slip the woven garment up the full length of her body and over her head.
"Ooooohhhhhhh," she murmured as he ran his hands in a long slow caress back down her back again. Her titties trembled and hardened slightly as they made naked contact with the rough mat beneath them, and she groaned again, not from pain but from some new alien tingle that began throbbing gently inside her flesh. Again his hands came down her back, slipping like another skin down over the full voluptuous moons of her ass and hips. The dress was gone and she was nakedly exposed to him but felt no longer any embarrassment or fear or need to resist. She had come to trust him in the last few minutes and sensed that he would not hurt her intentionally the way the others had hurt Kinche. In fact, the thought ran hazily through her mind, he probably would stop if she pleaded with him, but she had no intention of doing that now. She knew that he had saved her from another horrible evening at the hands of the other three by throwing the king's mistress to them. She also sensed that it had not been totally through desire for her alone but from a new strange compassion that had arisen in him for her as a human being. She knew because his hands playing over the softness of her now quivering flesh were asking, not demanding.
He sensed too, that there had been a change in the white girl. She no longer cringed beneath his touch as she had done in the car. Now, to his amazement, she seemed to desire it. Her body strained and worked with his hands as they coursed over her. He rubbed her asscheeks in small tiny circles, gently pressing apart the two full white moons so that he could see the tiny puckered brown hole of her ass nestled there so open and vulnerable. He thought of bending over and kissing it but decided against it. These white people had very strange taboos that he could never comprehend. He did not want to do anything that would raise her guard and perhaps snap her from the relaxed mood she was in at the moment. He cupped the firm full cheeks of her ass again and then slid his fingers slowly down them and into the crease caused by the pressure of her thighs lying so close together.
As he pressured gently down between them with his hand, he expected them to clench tightly shut but was surprised when they fell limply open without resistance of any kind. He pushed his hand up between their full satin-like softness until his fingers came into sudden wet contact with the soft down of the thin brown pubic hair growing tantalizingly up between her legs. He tried to press his finger up between the soft moist flanges of her cunt but she jerked spasmodically away, not from fear or revulsion, but from the unexpected contact that sent a shiver of warm rippling sensation running up the nerves of her naked back.
Julie groaned, vaguely aware of his hands turning her body on the mat so that she was flat on her back and the whole of her naked front was presented up to him in a delicious garden of secret hollows and indentations. She was just as he remembered her last night when he had made her stand nakedly exposed before the crackling fire and had impressed the others with the value of what he possessed. And they, impressed, had reminded him of his promise to share her! She was as she was then, firm and young and white, her body shaking, but this time filled, he suspected, with passion!
Balloo kneeled beside her, running his hands reverently over her white tits, her flat white belly, her thighs, up and down over her unprotected nudity with shaking hands that brought forth small animal mewls of pleasure from between her tightly closed teeth. His passion was increased as he watched the contrast of his ebony dark hands moving over and bringing the gasping and quivering response from the white of her body. He watched her open her eyes, greener than the river, and look up at him for a moment, the bright grassy color shadowed by the dim smoky veil of building passion that was beginning to course through her.