An African Adventure
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Episode 82: Steph's African Adventure free porn video
Introduction
This story is set in 2008 in Burkina Faso, which as we all ‘know’ is a land-locked West African country, has one of the lowest Ages of Consent in the world (13) and a history of barbarous FGM.
My name is Steph from Cornwall, I featured as a ch1ld in Episode 33 and as a young teenager in Episode 37, meeting Kit where I first encountered the two native black beauties in her Dad Kurt’s limousine, at Paddington Station. I gave up trying to pronounce their proper African names, so just called them ‘Red’ and ‘Blue’ being the colour of their skin-tight sheath dresses and matching thongs.
Kurt had a mission to ‘rescue’ young pre-FGM girls from Burkina Faso, bring them to London to work in his Sex Club and give them an education. Then they are sent back home for short trips to celebrate the idea that having a clitoris should be no barrier to a full satisfying sexual or marriage relationship.
An email arrived from Kurt inviting me to join him, his daughter Kit, Red and Blue on their next trip. Kurt, the sex club owner defined the trip to have three main elements:
• Celebration of the Clitoris,
• Education to change the FGM culture,
• Elimination of the women responsible for cutting.
Kurt
I have adored Kurt since that day long ago when he came down to Cornwall talent scouting for junior hostesses to work in his Soho sex club. Me and this other pre-pubescent slut were posing in the holiday chalet for a few selected ‘clients’ equipped with expensive cameras. They liked us to dress up and play at lesbian sex while they got their rocks off photographing us, often leaving big tips if we satisfied their particular kinks. Most of the blokes were old, fat and white; I remember Kurt because he was none of these: much younger, very fit and very black. I crawled over to him, seated in a dark corner, the last of my clothing snagged against the rough wooden floor, arriving at his feet wet with anticipation. He put the camera away, lifting me onto his lap, one leg either side – my bare cunt touching the bulge in his trousers. He kissed my forehead, my nose, then down my neck, all the while holding my hips very close.
I could just about manage “Hello I’m Stephanie, but all my friends call me Steph”, before his fingers found my juvenile clit. “Oh God” I moaned into his shoulder “you’re going to make me cum if you keep rubbing that button”.
He laughed “that’s exactly what I intend to do, My Little Steph, but not before checking your virginity”.
‘Oh God’ I thought, ‘he wants to put that Big Black Cock in me and fuck me raw’; you can tell the sort of porn videos Grandpa left lying around at Honey Cottage. Kurt must sensed my fear -eyes opened wide, legs trying to clamp closed around his hand, hands on his shoulders shaking.
“It’s all right baby – nobody’s going to hurt you”, except that his trouser bulge seemed to disagree. Two fingers stopped rubbing my clit around in tight circles and slid up between my slick lips, meeting the slight resistance of hymen and kept going inside to touch my g-spot. I screamed, not in pain, but in ecstasy – nobody had ever touched me there – my first grown-up orgasm ripped through my young body. Kurt smiled knowingly – this was to be the first of many at his Dominant hands and he felt a special responsibility towards his new Sub.
[You’ll need to read ‘Episode 33: Second Homes’ for the full story of how I used our randy village Librarian and Chemist to track down Kurt and his gorgeous daughter Kit once he had gone back to London, leaving me just his Escorts Soho business card, a fifty pound note and my first transparent panties].
Red and Blue
I first met the two gorgeous black teenagers Red and Blue from Burkina Faso when Kit invited me up to London. [You can read the full story in ‘Episode 37: Cuntal Butterflies’, including how we all rode the London Eye, fucking ourselves stupid for the benefit of tourists in the pod and how I started a rural business designing and making intimate colourful jewellery celebrating and displaying a girl’s greatest asset – her clitoris].
‘Red sauntered over, dropping her dress on the floor of the limo – dressed now in just a bright red thong that shimmered in the light, between her beautifully firm black buttocks. Holding onto the grab-handles she slowly spun around until her crotch was inches from my face. The scent of her sex was overwhelming, absolutely intoxicating – spicy and mouth-watering. I breathed her in, eyes closed, still wondering what an adult pussy looked like. Remember this was long before the days of free internet porn; how was a young girl to know? She leant forward – her warm skin touched against my nose; eyes now open - I was looking at the jewel-encrusted silver snake suspended between her legs. Its tail emerged from between her purple-black lips, snaking forwards, making no attempt to cover her pussy – rather to hold the lips apart. The snake emerged into her tight black curly pubic hair, the jewels gleaming, and then looped around to hold her prominent clitoris in its mouth. It was a celebration of femininity – a beautiful device to show off the beauty of this young girl; stunning’
I had certainly never heard of FGM or the devastating effect it had on the sex lives of the girls and women of their home country. The idea that anyone, particularly a Mother, would want to deprive a young ch1ld approaching puberty of her lifelong sexual satisfaction, and possibly her life, in the name of religious or social norms is so preposterous that I jumped at the chance to accompany Kurt and the girls on their next trip home.
{FACT: according to a 2001-2009 US State Department report FGM is common among all of the nation’s 45 provinces, but is particularly widespread in 14 of them. Among more than 50 distinct ethnic groups, only a few such as the Bella do not practice it. Also not practicing it are members of particular castes and secret societies (such as some of the Mossi mask societies in the Koundougou province). Type II or excision is performed on women in the provinces of Mouhoun, Yatenga, Zoundweogo, Naouri, Tapoa, Ganzourgoou, Houet, Kenedougou, Comoe and Kadiogo that includes the capital of Ouagadougou. In Ouagadougou some families, however, are beginning to abandon the practice. According to socio-cultural beliefs, originally this practice had a single goal of assuring the fidelity of women. It is often connected with a rite of passage to adulthood and linked to cultural and/or religious beliefs. For example, young girls from the majority Mossi were traditionally secluded during the cutting and taught about their future duties as young women and mothers. The end of the girls’ seclusion was marked by a village-wide celebration with drinking and dancing.}
Kurt in the Capital
{FACT: Type II is the excision (removal) of the clitoris together with part or all of the labia minora (the inner vaginal lips). The age at which a person undergoes this practice depends on a woman’s region and ethnic group. Members of the Mossi excise their daughters at around age seven. Other ethnic groups wait until a woman is to be married or about to have her first c***d. Some submit their babies to this practice at birth. Typically older women perform the procedure, earning about US$2-3 per patient. It is generally performed without the use of anesthesia. Excisors in urban areas are often paid in cash, while those in rural areas are paid with grain or other agricultural goods. If the procedure goes without complications, the excisor can also expect gifts such as chickens or guinea fowl, soap and expensive fabric. If complications follow, they are often attributed to failed pre-operation sacrifices made to the ancestors rather than a failure on the part of the excisor. Complications can include, for example, keloids, hemorrhaging, anemia, damage to tissue around the vagina and rectum, incontinence and even death.}
Kit’s first suggestion to find the ‘cutters’ was for her dad Kurt to show off her intact genitals around the regular tourist hotspots and ask the locals where he could get her made ‘respectable’. This nearly got them locked up – obviously a more subtle approach was required. There was no problem in finding dozens of young girls in the outlying towns willing to hand over the name and location of the woman responsible for their cuntal mutilation in response to a chance to watch Kit fuck her Dad.
Kurt stripped off, kissing and pleasuring Kit between the legs before pulling her sopping wet cunt onto his massive erection. Kit stroked and rubbed her own clit as she rose and fell on his BBC; finally screaming through her orgasm.
The cutter obviously went under a number of different names, but the address was always the same – a small hut on the outskirts of a remote village. Kurt hired a car and set out with a very nervous Kit, dressed in tee-shirt and very short skirt to track her down. The plan was to demand she performed FGM on Kit, and then hand her over to the police, before any damage was done. But when she pinned down and tried to attack Kit between the legs with a lethally sharp knife, Kurt flipped and in pulling her off accidentally broke her neck, giving him a raging erection. Kit trembled from fright in Kurt’s arms, but after a while calmed down enough to stop crying and respond to his kisses and strokes, taking his tear-soaked cock to the back of her throat. As they left the village, driving slowly to avoid attracting attention, Kit saw the cutters hut with her inside it burning to the ground – thinking ‘that will avoid the need for a cremation’.
Michael – the Minister of Justice
A week and numerous, apparently random hut fires later, Kurt was returning to the 3-bed apartment he rented for the summer in Ouagadougou; Kurt’s room had a king-sized bed, Red and Blue shared the second room and Kit and I the smallest. However most of the time we all slept (or fucked) in Kurt’s bed when he was there. Still only half-dressed from another lonely night of lesbian passion; Red, Blue and I were getting worried - Kurt and Kit had been gone for 2 days without calling when his old pal the Minister of Justice paid an unannounced visit. I was sat at the computer desk updating the Bulletin Board on the ancient PC with modem when Red showed the Minister in. We had listed 3 pages of suspected cutters names and addresses and many struck through as the Police discovered they had either fled or suffered an unfortunate fatal ‘accident’. I hadn’t noticed him watching over my shoulder, until two massive black hands cupped my tiny white breasts, tweaking the nipples.
“Don’t get up, baby girl” he soothed my frightened reaction “those names are interesting – you’re not in any trouble. I’m not going to hurt you... unless you want me to”. Next thing I knew – I was sitting on his lap – a big bare cock pressing into my bottom – his hands at the tops of my thighs threatening to discover my non-FGM status.
“Oh you gorgeous ch1ld” he breathed into my ear “your cunt is intact – stand up - I want to kiss her”.
He bent me over the computer desk, pulling aside the useless thong – his mouth all over my delectably wet cunt, his fingers circling my hard clit. I was beginning to think there was a real chance he would make me cum before I ever got to sample that cock, when Blue started spinning around the pole-dancing pole, flashing her bare intact cunt too. I took the distraction to undo his trousers and sink my eager cunt onto his pole – he groaned, filling me to the hilt, his fingers a blur. I rode him hard, then swapped to anal, begging for him to cum inside me. He didn’t disappoint – blasting my tight back passage with his hot sticky sperm, lifting me off only to check I wasn’t too sore. He needn’t have worried – Kurt was just as broad and long, and with the right amount of lube he fits perfectly, which was just as well as that’s when he arrived back.
“I love sloppy seconds” he announced, lifting me by the armpits to take me on hands and knees on the sofa, with Kit curled up chewing on my tits, being eaten out by Michael. Turns out he and Kurt have known each other since school and often double-dated and double-fucked the hottest girls.
Michael watched and filmed us four girls masturbating in a line on the sofa; legs spread wide, heads thrown back, delighting in our rampant sexuality just for his satisfaction.
Propaganda
Kurt and Michael had realised long ago that the Government attempts to dissuade and punish FGM, primarily aimed at women was clearly not working. Beautiful young girls were still being brutalised before having the chance to experience the sexual bliss from that bundle of nerve endings called a clitoris. Fathers felt powerless to protect the daughters up to the age of consent.
{FACT: A radio campaign first raised the issue of FGM/FGC in 1975, demanding that the practice cease. In 1985, a recommendation was made during "National Week for Women" to abolish it. The people of Burkina Faso began to discuss this formerly taboo subject. Since then there have been numerous campaigns, seminars, etc. aimed at informing the populace about the harmful effects and eradicating the practice. Much emphasis has been placed on the improvement of health care and education, participation of women in society and economic and social improvement of the position of women and c***dren. The government of Burkina Faso continues to wage a serious campaign against this widespread practice. The campaign, based on informing the people of Burkina Faso about health problems posed by excising a woman, is led by a National Committee to Fight Against the Practice of Excision (CNLPE) with Burkina’s First Lady as the honorary chairperson. The First Lady actively supports the campaign. The National Committee was set up by a Presidential decree in 1990. Included in the Committee are members of the Burkina Faso Women’s Union, the Burkina Faso Midwives’ Association, the Nurses’ Association and the Burkina Faso Movement for Human and People’s Rights. Traditional village leaders have pledged their support to the Committee.}
In between the moans and groans of our self-inflicted orgasms, I suggested that if men could be convinced that they could best share in their daughters’ pleasure by keeping them intact; government-approved pornography could be the way to distribute the message.
Michael and Kurt jumped at the chance to film themselves double-fucking Red and Blue and then finally Kit. The last time Michael had seen Kit naked was as baby being breastfed by her Mum Gemma; now he was feasting on her tits while ploughing her tight teen juicy black cunt. He pulled out, his Big Black Cock coated in her cream – straight into my mouth – I sucked him clean on camera, using my best open-throat choking technique that I know Kurt adores. He fucked my face with a deep growl, grappling my butt cheeks, inserting a thumb – I bit him – he slapped me. I think he wanted to tie me up – I looked across at Kurt – he handed Michael a length of red ribbon. Oh Shit, I was in trouble – Kit tied my hands, Red and Blue held my thighs apart, tying them to the chair arms as Michael rubbed my clit and filled my cunt then my arse with his rock-hard erection.
The government anonymously published the porn video demonstrating the pleasure that a young intact girl could enjoy with her father and his friends, provided they protected her from the cutters. I even suggested that maybe the Age of Consent could be raised to European levels in an effort to preserve an intact teen clitoris for longer before marriage. Of course with protection, fathers could have their daughters and her friends at any age.
Meanwhile the number of crossed-out names on the bulletin board continued to grow as the police gradually took reported cases seriously or the vigilantes got there first.
Expedition
While Kurt and his daughter Kit stayed in town searching for the remaining local cutters, I ventured up-country with Red and Blue in search of a lost tribe of intact females. The stories of their unusual dress, raids on other villages and sex-hunting exploits grew more explicit as we drove further north from the capital. The last part of the journey by foot took us deep into the jungle, until rounding a bend in the track; we were set upon by six painted half-naked female warriors. The bright red war-paint designs covering their faces, arms and top half were exquisite and very threatening.
They wore an ornate costume of some clinging fabric from the shoulder, exposing the right breast, tied loosely around the waist to stop just above the knees. From the rear it covered their buttocks (which we found later are private), but by judicious folding between the legs left the vagina completely exposed and aroused. Their intact clitoris was held permanently erect by some metallic device emanating from between their engorged pussy lips, rather like the cuntal butterflies we all wore.
However that is all we saw for the next few hours as we were hooded, bound and dragged through the forest to their village. Red and Blue were accepted as westernised natives, but I guess I was the first white teenage girl they had ever captured. They seemed particularly annoyed at the large slices of bare thigh and buttock showing below my standard dress of cut-off denim shorts. My butt was sore from the continual slaps they took turns inflicting upon it as we stumbled towards their home. Eventually I ripped off my tee-shirt and tied around my waist to cover the unacceptable buttocks and they stopped beating them. Unfortunately, this just meant they directed their slaps to my bare left breast and nipple, which again, like Mormon girls, should apparently be kept covered at all times.
At the village we were stripped and thrown into an exhausted huddle in one corner of the chief’s hut, to join her two naked pre-pubescent daughters still too young to be covered by the official dress code. When we woke, my face ended up between Red’s legs nuzzling against her pussy; she twisted around to be on top in a perfect 69 position.
Laughing, the two girls copied our lesbian sex position, sucking on each other’s sweet cunt; while Blue attempted to translate her conversation with their mother. Blue was trying to explain the western concept of thong panties – covering the cunt and exposing the butt – the complete opposite of the Chief’s view of adult feminine discretion.
Ch1ldren were allowed to run around naked, but in public all girls above the age of puberty had to keep both buttocks and one breast covered at all times.
Blue threw a towel over Red’s bare butt to avoid causing further offence and sat open-legged in front of the Chief, showing off her bright blue cuntal butterfly. I should explain – we all had a hand in the silver jewellery design: a long curved bulbous tail locks it inside the cunt, the butterfly’s body holds the lips apart and encircles the clit; coloured flexible wings extend upwards to caress the shaven mound. This anti-FGM celebration of the clitoris fitted perfectly with the tribes ideals of feminine beauty.
Without any common language, one of the ch1ldren managed to indicate that she wanted to try wearing one; Blue discovered a junior-sized model in her rucksack, handing it to the Chief to lick and inspect, before helping the little girl insert it. Success – we were accepted and given our own tribal costumes to put on and invited to join the next monthly sex-raiding party.
These were organised every full moon when their monthly cycles perfectly aligned, like all large groups of women living in isolation, to avoid unwanted pregnancy. Covered in fresh war-paint above the waist and cunts fully exposed, the whole tribe entered the outskirts of the next village at nightfall. Four naked young men were staked out, tied hand and foot, rampant cocks sticking straight up, lit by the soft moonlight. One by one the tribe, led by the Chief, squatted over the men, fucking themselves stupid to screams of pleasure. Even the little girls, considered too young to fuck, lowered their bare cunts onto the men’s faces to demonstrate the power of the clitoris. Red pulled out her butterfly, handing it to the Chief to wear and settled her cunt onto the last remaining un-fucked bloke, riding him to climax deep inside her. He must have taken something to stay hard for so long, so Blue and I took turns impaling ourselves on his massive erection, while Red emptied her cunt of spunk into his mouth.
All the adult women and the majority of teenagers in the raided village had already been cut, so the demonstration of sexual passion made possible by the celebrated clitoris was aimed at the mothers of three little intact girls approaching puberty. They eventually agreed to give up the ch1ldren to be brought up in the raider’s tribe to avoid FGM, provided they came back to fuck every month.
{FACT: A law prohibiting FGM/FGC was enacted in 1996 and went into effect February 1997. A Presidential decree had earlier set up the National Committee against this practice and imposed fines on people guilty of excising girls and women. The law includes stricter punishment for those involved in the excision of women and girls. The law reads as follows: -Article 380: A prison sentence of six months to three years and/or a 150,000 to 900,000 francs (US$240-1,440) fine to whomever attempts or succeeds at damaging the physical integrity of a woman’s genitalia by total ablation, excision, infibulation, desensitization or all other methods. If death follows, the prison sentence is five to ten years. Similar sentences are applicable to those who request, incite to excision or promote it either by providing money, goods, moral support or all other means. -Article 381: Penalties will be applied to the fullest extent of the law if the guilty party belongs to the medical or para-medical corps. The judge can additionally forbid the guilty party to practice his or her profession for a maximum of five years. -Article 382: Imposition of a fine of 50,000 to 100,000 francs (US$80-160) on all persons who knew the criminal behavior described in Article 380 was to take place and did not warn the proper authorities. Since the adoption of this law, there have been 60 convictions of both excisors and accomplices, resulting in sentences of imprisonment or fines. Imprisonment for excisors has ranged from one to ten months. One excisor received a ten-month jail sentence for cutting two girls. Accomplices have also received prison terms. Both have received fines of from 10,000 to 50,000 francs (approximately US$16-80). In a number of cases, prison sentences were suspended.}
Catching the Cutters
On the way back to the warriors village we met a woman dragging her pre-pubescent daughter to be Genitally Mutilated. We followed at a safe distance to an isolated hut near a bend in the river; there was already a queue outside. The Chief ran into the hut, screaming abuse in a weird language, dragging the cutter out a knifepoint, bound and gagged. The Mothers and Daughters took fright and ran away, but not before checking out my intact white pussy, fully exposed by the green and blue tribal dress carefully threaded between the thighs.
“What are we going to do with her?” Red translated the long guttural sentence, which I’m sure included a long list of very painful punishments, if not actual death. I quickly powered up the Satellite Phone that Kurt had provided for us to keep in touch. I had actually been calling him every night to give him the day’s news and indulge in a long, slow mutual-masturbation session before bed. Looking up past the long phallic antenna into the sky full of unfamiliar star constellations, I could picture his rampant cock at the other end of the call.
“Make me cum baby girl” he demanded “tell me exactly how good your fingers feel in that pretty pussy. Pinch your nipples – are they hard for me”?
“Daddy, I’ll just put the phone down, so I can use both hands – hope you can still hear – my pussy is very wet now – I want to cum for you”. I needed something inside me – the only toy we had smuggled into tribal village was a tiny clit-stim and the batteries gave out days ago. I looked again at the phone antenna directed towards the geostationary satellite high over the equator, wondering if I could actually feel the radio waves inside my butt. My hands were now so slippery; I nearly dropped the phone trying to angle it up my arse. I could still hear Kurt wanting to know what was happening – the signal was weakened, but he now had the perfect close-up pussy sounds of my orgasm – the best phone-sex ever.
I called Kurt, giving him the GPS location; then 30 minutes later, rang the police hotline; they both arrived by speedboat at about the same time. Following my instructions, Kurt had brought an all-female film crew from the Ouagadougou TV station to witness the arrest and perhaps film an interview with the tribe. Unfortunately the warriors still weren’t comfortable with being shown on national TV, so the crew mostly interviewed Red and Blue, with occasional shots below the waist of the Chief and her daughters. They asked about the bulletin board – helpfully getting us the publicity we needed, then spotted our matching cuntal butterflies. I could see the sound engineer’s exposed panties getting rather damp as Red and Blue kissed, hands inside their bare-cunt costumes. I wanted to push her up against that tree – I think she did too, but the interview came to an end and the crew had to leave.
Education
{FACT: Perhaps most significant, a report published in 2008 indicates that over all in Burkina Faso the practice of FGM/C is declining. While 80 per cent of women between the ages of 20 and 49 have been cut, among women between15 and 19, the level is 65 percent. Among girls of less than 10 years of age, only around 20 percent have been cut (in the past, this figure would have been at least 50 per cent or more) and it is reasonable to hope that a majority of these girls will never be cut. While the FGM law is important, the downward trend in the incidence of FGM/C in Burkina Faso, although gradual, is almost certainly the result of shifting attitudes about the practice and its consequences}.
Rather than trying to smuggle young uncut girls out of the country to work in Kurt’s Soho sex club, Kit had the idea to set up a residential school here where girls (and boys) could get a good education during the day. The girls were allowed to wear western dress in class, only donning the shiny, crotchless body-suit in the evenings for lap-dancing and pole-dancing practice sessions. Men (and some women) were happy to pay a subscription to watch and assist the c***dren in academic or practical skills and benefit from their success. Their other source of revenue was the manufacture, marketing and sale of handmade, custom Cuntal Butterflies.
Once the TV interview with Red, Blue and me went viral, celebrating our uncut clitorises displayed by the body of the silver butterflies, demand went through the roof. Uncut teenagers and women were willing to queue for hours to be intimately measured between the legs for a perfect fit, ensuring that the tail fitted snugly into the vagina and the wings provided a pleasing shape across the pubic mound.
Perhaps we had helped to reduce FGM.
This story is set in 2008 in Burkina Faso, which as we all ‘know’ is a land-locked West African country, has one of the lowest Ages of Consent in the world (13) and a history of barbarous FGM.
My name is Steph from Cornwall, I featured as a ch1ld in Episode 33 and as a young teenager in Episode 37, meeting Kit where I first encountered the two native black beauties in her Dad Kurt’s limousine, at Paddington Station. I gave up trying to pronounce their proper African names, so just called them ‘Red’ and ‘Blue’ being the colour of their skin-tight sheath dresses and matching thongs.
Kurt had a mission to ‘rescue’ young pre-FGM girls from Burkina Faso, bring them to London to work in his Sex Club and give them an education. Then they are sent back home for short trips to celebrate the idea that having a clitoris should be no barrier to a full satisfying sexual or marriage relationship.
An email arrived from Kurt inviting me to join him, his daughter Kit, Red and Blue on their next trip. Kurt, the sex club owner defined the trip to have three main elements:
• Celebration of the Clitoris,
• Education to change the FGM culture,
• Elimination of the women responsible for cutting.
Kurt
I have adored Kurt since that day long ago when he came down to Cornwall talent scouting for junior hostesses to work in his Soho sex club. Me and this other pre-pubescent slut were posing in the holiday chalet for a few selected ‘clients’ equipped with expensive cameras. They liked us to dress up and play at lesbian sex while they got their rocks off photographing us, often leaving big tips if we satisfied their particular kinks. Most of the blokes were old, fat and white; I remember Kurt because he was none of these: much younger, very fit and very black. I crawled over to him, seated in a dark corner, the last of my clothing snagged against the rough wooden floor, arriving at his feet wet with anticipation. He put the camera away, lifting me onto his lap, one leg either side – my bare cunt touching the bulge in his trousers. He kissed my forehead, my nose, then down my neck, all the while holding my hips very close.
I could just about manage “Hello I’m Stephanie, but all my friends call me Steph”, before his fingers found my juvenile clit. “Oh God” I moaned into his shoulder “you’re going to make me cum if you keep rubbing that button”.
He laughed “that’s exactly what I intend to do, My Little Steph, but not before checking your virginity”.
‘Oh God’ I thought, ‘he wants to put that Big Black Cock in me and fuck me raw’; you can tell the sort of porn videos Grandpa left lying around at Honey Cottage. Kurt must sensed my fear -eyes opened wide, legs trying to clamp closed around his hand, hands on his shoulders shaking.
“It’s all right baby – nobody’s going to hurt you”, except that his trouser bulge seemed to disagree. Two fingers stopped rubbing my clit around in tight circles and slid up between my slick lips, meeting the slight resistance of hymen and kept going inside to touch my g-spot. I screamed, not in pain, but in ecstasy – nobody had ever touched me there – my first grown-up orgasm ripped through my young body. Kurt smiled knowingly – this was to be the first of many at his Dominant hands and he felt a special responsibility towards his new Sub.
[You’ll need to read ‘Episode 33: Second Homes’ for the full story of how I used our randy village Librarian and Chemist to track down Kurt and his gorgeous daughter Kit once he had gone back to London, leaving me just his Escorts Soho business card, a fifty pound note and my first transparent panties].
Red and Blue
I first met the two gorgeous black teenagers Red and Blue from Burkina Faso when Kit invited me up to London. [You can read the full story in ‘Episode 37: Cuntal Butterflies’, including how we all rode the London Eye, fucking ourselves stupid for the benefit of tourists in the pod and how I started a rural business designing and making intimate colourful jewellery celebrating and displaying a girl’s greatest asset – her clitoris].
‘Red sauntered over, dropping her dress on the floor of the limo – dressed now in just a bright red thong that shimmered in the light, between her beautifully firm black buttocks. Holding onto the grab-handles she slowly spun around until her crotch was inches from my face. The scent of her sex was overwhelming, absolutely intoxicating – spicy and mouth-watering. I breathed her in, eyes closed, still wondering what an adult pussy looked like. Remember this was long before the days of free internet porn; how was a young girl to know? She leant forward – her warm skin touched against my nose; eyes now open - I was looking at the jewel-encrusted silver snake suspended between her legs. Its tail emerged from between her purple-black lips, snaking forwards, making no attempt to cover her pussy – rather to hold the lips apart. The snake emerged into her tight black curly pubic hair, the jewels gleaming, and then looped around to hold her prominent clitoris in its mouth. It was a celebration of femininity – a beautiful device to show off the beauty of this young girl; stunning’
I had certainly never heard of FGM or the devastating effect it had on the sex lives of the girls and women of their home country. The idea that anyone, particularly a Mother, would want to deprive a young ch1ld approaching puberty of her lifelong sexual satisfaction, and possibly her life, in the name of religious or social norms is so preposterous that I jumped at the chance to accompany Kurt and the girls on their next trip home.
{FACT: according to a 2001-2009 US State Department report FGM is common among all of the nation’s 45 provinces, but is particularly widespread in 14 of them. Among more than 50 distinct ethnic groups, only a few such as the Bella do not practice it. Also not practicing it are members of particular castes and secret societies (such as some of the Mossi mask societies in the Koundougou province). Type II or excision is performed on women in the provinces of Mouhoun, Yatenga, Zoundweogo, Naouri, Tapoa, Ganzourgoou, Houet, Kenedougou, Comoe and Kadiogo that includes the capital of Ouagadougou. In Ouagadougou some families, however, are beginning to abandon the practice. According to socio-cultural beliefs, originally this practice had a single goal of assuring the fidelity of women. It is often connected with a rite of passage to adulthood and linked to cultural and/or religious beliefs. For example, young girls from the majority Mossi were traditionally secluded during the cutting and taught about their future duties as young women and mothers. The end of the girls’ seclusion was marked by a village-wide celebration with drinking and dancing.}
Kurt in the Capital
{FACT: Type II is the excision (removal) of the clitoris together with part or all of the labia minora (the inner vaginal lips). The age at which a person undergoes this practice depends on a woman’s region and ethnic group. Members of the Mossi excise their daughters at around age seven. Other ethnic groups wait until a woman is to be married or about to have her first c***d. Some submit their babies to this practice at birth. Typically older women perform the procedure, earning about US$2-3 per patient. It is generally performed without the use of anesthesia. Excisors in urban areas are often paid in cash, while those in rural areas are paid with grain or other agricultural goods. If the procedure goes without complications, the excisor can also expect gifts such as chickens or guinea fowl, soap and expensive fabric. If complications follow, they are often attributed to failed pre-operation sacrifices made to the ancestors rather than a failure on the part of the excisor. Complications can include, for example, keloids, hemorrhaging, anemia, damage to tissue around the vagina and rectum, incontinence and even death.}
Kit’s first suggestion to find the ‘cutters’ was for her dad Kurt to show off her intact genitals around the regular tourist hotspots and ask the locals where he could get her made ‘respectable’. This nearly got them locked up – obviously a more subtle approach was required. There was no problem in finding dozens of young girls in the outlying towns willing to hand over the name and location of the woman responsible for their cuntal mutilation in response to a chance to watch Kit fuck her Dad.
Kurt stripped off, kissing and pleasuring Kit between the legs before pulling her sopping wet cunt onto his massive erection. Kit stroked and rubbed her own clit as she rose and fell on his BBC; finally screaming through her orgasm.
The cutter obviously went under a number of different names, but the address was always the same – a small hut on the outskirts of a remote village. Kurt hired a car and set out with a very nervous Kit, dressed in tee-shirt and very short skirt to track her down. The plan was to demand she performed FGM on Kit, and then hand her over to the police, before any damage was done. But when she pinned down and tried to attack Kit between the legs with a lethally sharp knife, Kurt flipped and in pulling her off accidentally broke her neck, giving him a raging erection. Kit trembled from fright in Kurt’s arms, but after a while calmed down enough to stop crying and respond to his kisses and strokes, taking his tear-soaked cock to the back of her throat. As they left the village, driving slowly to avoid attracting attention, Kit saw the cutters hut with her inside it burning to the ground – thinking ‘that will avoid the need for a cremation’.
Michael – the Minister of Justice
A week and numerous, apparently random hut fires later, Kurt was returning to the 3-bed apartment he rented for the summer in Ouagadougou; Kurt’s room had a king-sized bed, Red and Blue shared the second room and Kit and I the smallest. However most of the time we all slept (or fucked) in Kurt’s bed when he was there. Still only half-dressed from another lonely night of lesbian passion; Red, Blue and I were getting worried - Kurt and Kit had been gone for 2 days without calling when his old pal the Minister of Justice paid an unannounced visit. I was sat at the computer desk updating the Bulletin Board on the ancient PC with modem when Red showed the Minister in. We had listed 3 pages of suspected cutters names and addresses and many struck through as the Police discovered they had either fled or suffered an unfortunate fatal ‘accident’. I hadn’t noticed him watching over my shoulder, until two massive black hands cupped my tiny white breasts, tweaking the nipples.
“Don’t get up, baby girl” he soothed my frightened reaction “those names are interesting – you’re not in any trouble. I’m not going to hurt you... unless you want me to”. Next thing I knew – I was sitting on his lap – a big bare cock pressing into my bottom – his hands at the tops of my thighs threatening to discover my non-FGM status.
“Oh you gorgeous ch1ld” he breathed into my ear “your cunt is intact – stand up - I want to kiss her”.
He bent me over the computer desk, pulling aside the useless thong – his mouth all over my delectably wet cunt, his fingers circling my hard clit. I was beginning to think there was a real chance he would make me cum before I ever got to sample that cock, when Blue started spinning around the pole-dancing pole, flashing her bare intact cunt too. I took the distraction to undo his trousers and sink my eager cunt onto his pole – he groaned, filling me to the hilt, his fingers a blur. I rode him hard, then swapped to anal, begging for him to cum inside me. He didn’t disappoint – blasting my tight back passage with his hot sticky sperm, lifting me off only to check I wasn’t too sore. He needn’t have worried – Kurt was just as broad and long, and with the right amount of lube he fits perfectly, which was just as well as that’s when he arrived back.
“I love sloppy seconds” he announced, lifting me by the armpits to take me on hands and knees on the sofa, with Kit curled up chewing on my tits, being eaten out by Michael. Turns out he and Kurt have known each other since school and often double-dated and double-fucked the hottest girls.
Michael watched and filmed us four girls masturbating in a line on the sofa; legs spread wide, heads thrown back, delighting in our rampant sexuality just for his satisfaction.
Propaganda
Kurt and Michael had realised long ago that the Government attempts to dissuade and punish FGM, primarily aimed at women was clearly not working. Beautiful young girls were still being brutalised before having the chance to experience the sexual bliss from that bundle of nerve endings called a clitoris. Fathers felt powerless to protect the daughters up to the age of consent.
{FACT: A radio campaign first raised the issue of FGM/FGC in 1975, demanding that the practice cease. In 1985, a recommendation was made during "National Week for Women" to abolish it. The people of Burkina Faso began to discuss this formerly taboo subject. Since then there have been numerous campaigns, seminars, etc. aimed at informing the populace about the harmful effects and eradicating the practice. Much emphasis has been placed on the improvement of health care and education, participation of women in society and economic and social improvement of the position of women and c***dren. The government of Burkina Faso continues to wage a serious campaign against this widespread practice. The campaign, based on informing the people of Burkina Faso about health problems posed by excising a woman, is led by a National Committee to Fight Against the Practice of Excision (CNLPE) with Burkina’s First Lady as the honorary chairperson. The First Lady actively supports the campaign. The National Committee was set up by a Presidential decree in 1990. Included in the Committee are members of the Burkina Faso Women’s Union, the Burkina Faso Midwives’ Association, the Nurses’ Association and the Burkina Faso Movement for Human and People’s Rights. Traditional village leaders have pledged their support to the Committee.}
In between the moans and groans of our self-inflicted orgasms, I suggested that if men could be convinced that they could best share in their daughters’ pleasure by keeping them intact; government-approved pornography could be the way to distribute the message.
Michael and Kurt jumped at the chance to film themselves double-fucking Red and Blue and then finally Kit. The last time Michael had seen Kit naked was as baby being breastfed by her Mum Gemma; now he was feasting on her tits while ploughing her tight teen juicy black cunt. He pulled out, his Big Black Cock coated in her cream – straight into my mouth – I sucked him clean on camera, using my best open-throat choking technique that I know Kurt adores. He fucked my face with a deep growl, grappling my butt cheeks, inserting a thumb – I bit him – he slapped me. I think he wanted to tie me up – I looked across at Kurt – he handed Michael a length of red ribbon. Oh Shit, I was in trouble – Kit tied my hands, Red and Blue held my thighs apart, tying them to the chair arms as Michael rubbed my clit and filled my cunt then my arse with his rock-hard erection.
The government anonymously published the porn video demonstrating the pleasure that a young intact girl could enjoy with her father and his friends, provided they protected her from the cutters. I even suggested that maybe the Age of Consent could be raised to European levels in an effort to preserve an intact teen clitoris for longer before marriage. Of course with protection, fathers could have their daughters and her friends at any age.
Meanwhile the number of crossed-out names on the bulletin board continued to grow as the police gradually took reported cases seriously or the vigilantes got there first.
Expedition
While Kurt and his daughter Kit stayed in town searching for the remaining local cutters, I ventured up-country with Red and Blue in search of a lost tribe of intact females. The stories of their unusual dress, raids on other villages and sex-hunting exploits grew more explicit as we drove further north from the capital. The last part of the journey by foot took us deep into the jungle, until rounding a bend in the track; we were set upon by six painted half-naked female warriors. The bright red war-paint designs covering their faces, arms and top half were exquisite and very threatening.
They wore an ornate costume of some clinging fabric from the shoulder, exposing the right breast, tied loosely around the waist to stop just above the knees. From the rear it covered their buttocks (which we found later are private), but by judicious folding between the legs left the vagina completely exposed and aroused. Their intact clitoris was held permanently erect by some metallic device emanating from between their engorged pussy lips, rather like the cuntal butterflies we all wore.
However that is all we saw for the next few hours as we were hooded, bound and dragged through the forest to their village. Red and Blue were accepted as westernised natives, but I guess I was the first white teenage girl they had ever captured. They seemed particularly annoyed at the large slices of bare thigh and buttock showing below my standard dress of cut-off denim shorts. My butt was sore from the continual slaps they took turns inflicting upon it as we stumbled towards their home. Eventually I ripped off my tee-shirt and tied around my waist to cover the unacceptable buttocks and they stopped beating them. Unfortunately, this just meant they directed their slaps to my bare left breast and nipple, which again, like Mormon girls, should apparently be kept covered at all times.
At the village we were stripped and thrown into an exhausted huddle in one corner of the chief’s hut, to join her two naked pre-pubescent daughters still too young to be covered by the official dress code. When we woke, my face ended up between Red’s legs nuzzling against her pussy; she twisted around to be on top in a perfect 69 position.
Laughing, the two girls copied our lesbian sex position, sucking on each other’s sweet cunt; while Blue attempted to translate her conversation with their mother. Blue was trying to explain the western concept of thong panties – covering the cunt and exposing the butt – the complete opposite of the Chief’s view of adult feminine discretion.
Ch1ldren were allowed to run around naked, but in public all girls above the age of puberty had to keep both buttocks and one breast covered at all times.
Blue threw a towel over Red’s bare butt to avoid causing further offence and sat open-legged in front of the Chief, showing off her bright blue cuntal butterfly. I should explain – we all had a hand in the silver jewellery design: a long curved bulbous tail locks it inside the cunt, the butterfly’s body holds the lips apart and encircles the clit; coloured flexible wings extend upwards to caress the shaven mound. This anti-FGM celebration of the clitoris fitted perfectly with the tribes ideals of feminine beauty.
Without any common language, one of the ch1ldren managed to indicate that she wanted to try wearing one; Blue discovered a junior-sized model in her rucksack, handing it to the Chief to lick and inspect, before helping the little girl insert it. Success – we were accepted and given our own tribal costumes to put on and invited to join the next monthly sex-raiding party.
These were organised every full moon when their monthly cycles perfectly aligned, like all large groups of women living in isolation, to avoid unwanted pregnancy. Covered in fresh war-paint above the waist and cunts fully exposed, the whole tribe entered the outskirts of the next village at nightfall. Four naked young men were staked out, tied hand and foot, rampant cocks sticking straight up, lit by the soft moonlight. One by one the tribe, led by the Chief, squatted over the men, fucking themselves stupid to screams of pleasure. Even the little girls, considered too young to fuck, lowered their bare cunts onto the men’s faces to demonstrate the power of the clitoris. Red pulled out her butterfly, handing it to the Chief to wear and settled her cunt onto the last remaining un-fucked bloke, riding him to climax deep inside her. He must have taken something to stay hard for so long, so Blue and I took turns impaling ourselves on his massive erection, while Red emptied her cunt of spunk into his mouth.
All the adult women and the majority of teenagers in the raided village had already been cut, so the demonstration of sexual passion made possible by the celebrated clitoris was aimed at the mothers of three little intact girls approaching puberty. They eventually agreed to give up the ch1ldren to be brought up in the raider’s tribe to avoid FGM, provided they came back to fuck every month.
{FACT: A law prohibiting FGM/FGC was enacted in 1996 and went into effect February 1997. A Presidential decree had earlier set up the National Committee against this practice and imposed fines on people guilty of excising girls and women. The law includes stricter punishment for those involved in the excision of women and girls. The law reads as follows: -Article 380: A prison sentence of six months to three years and/or a 150,000 to 900,000 francs (US$240-1,440) fine to whomever attempts or succeeds at damaging the physical integrity of a woman’s genitalia by total ablation, excision, infibulation, desensitization or all other methods. If death follows, the prison sentence is five to ten years. Similar sentences are applicable to those who request, incite to excision or promote it either by providing money, goods, moral support or all other means. -Article 381: Penalties will be applied to the fullest extent of the law if the guilty party belongs to the medical or para-medical corps. The judge can additionally forbid the guilty party to practice his or her profession for a maximum of five years. -Article 382: Imposition of a fine of 50,000 to 100,000 francs (US$80-160) on all persons who knew the criminal behavior described in Article 380 was to take place and did not warn the proper authorities. Since the adoption of this law, there have been 60 convictions of both excisors and accomplices, resulting in sentences of imprisonment or fines. Imprisonment for excisors has ranged from one to ten months. One excisor received a ten-month jail sentence for cutting two girls. Accomplices have also received prison terms. Both have received fines of from 10,000 to 50,000 francs (approximately US$16-80). In a number of cases, prison sentences were suspended.}
Catching the Cutters
On the way back to the warriors village we met a woman dragging her pre-pubescent daughter to be Genitally Mutilated. We followed at a safe distance to an isolated hut near a bend in the river; there was already a queue outside. The Chief ran into the hut, screaming abuse in a weird language, dragging the cutter out a knifepoint, bound and gagged. The Mothers and Daughters took fright and ran away, but not before checking out my intact white pussy, fully exposed by the green and blue tribal dress carefully threaded between the thighs.
“What are we going to do with her?” Red translated the long guttural sentence, which I’m sure included a long list of very painful punishments, if not actual death. I quickly powered up the Satellite Phone that Kurt had provided for us to keep in touch. I had actually been calling him every night to give him the day’s news and indulge in a long, slow mutual-masturbation session before bed. Looking up past the long phallic antenna into the sky full of unfamiliar star constellations, I could picture his rampant cock at the other end of the call.
“Make me cum baby girl” he demanded “tell me exactly how good your fingers feel in that pretty pussy. Pinch your nipples – are they hard for me”?
“Daddy, I’ll just put the phone down, so I can use both hands – hope you can still hear – my pussy is very wet now – I want to cum for you”. I needed something inside me – the only toy we had smuggled into tribal village was a tiny clit-stim and the batteries gave out days ago. I looked again at the phone antenna directed towards the geostationary satellite high over the equator, wondering if I could actually feel the radio waves inside my butt. My hands were now so slippery; I nearly dropped the phone trying to angle it up my arse. I could still hear Kurt wanting to know what was happening – the signal was weakened, but he now had the perfect close-up pussy sounds of my orgasm – the best phone-sex ever.
I called Kurt, giving him the GPS location; then 30 minutes later, rang the police hotline; they both arrived by speedboat at about the same time. Following my instructions, Kurt had brought an all-female film crew from the Ouagadougou TV station to witness the arrest and perhaps film an interview with the tribe. Unfortunately the warriors still weren’t comfortable with being shown on national TV, so the crew mostly interviewed Red and Blue, with occasional shots below the waist of the Chief and her daughters. They asked about the bulletin board – helpfully getting us the publicity we needed, then spotted our matching cuntal butterflies. I could see the sound engineer’s exposed panties getting rather damp as Red and Blue kissed, hands inside their bare-cunt costumes. I wanted to push her up against that tree – I think she did too, but the interview came to an end and the crew had to leave.
Education
{FACT: Perhaps most significant, a report published in 2008 indicates that over all in Burkina Faso the practice of FGM/C is declining. While 80 per cent of women between the ages of 20 and 49 have been cut, among women between15 and 19, the level is 65 percent. Among girls of less than 10 years of age, only around 20 percent have been cut (in the past, this figure would have been at least 50 per cent or more) and it is reasonable to hope that a majority of these girls will never be cut. While the FGM law is important, the downward trend in the incidence of FGM/C in Burkina Faso, although gradual, is almost certainly the result of shifting attitudes about the practice and its consequences}.
Rather than trying to smuggle young uncut girls out of the country to work in Kurt’s Soho sex club, Kit had the idea to set up a residential school here where girls (and boys) could get a good education during the day. The girls were allowed to wear western dress in class, only donning the shiny, crotchless body-suit in the evenings for lap-dancing and pole-dancing practice sessions. Men (and some women) were happy to pay a subscription to watch and assist the c***dren in academic or practical skills and benefit from their success. Their other source of revenue was the manufacture, marketing and sale of handmade, custom Cuntal Butterflies.
Once the TV interview with Red, Blue and me went viral, celebrating our uncut clitorises displayed by the body of the silver butterflies, demand went through the roof. Uncut teenagers and women were willing to queue for hours to be intimately measured between the legs for a perfect fit, ensuring that the tail fitted snugly into the vagina and the wings provided a pleasing shape across the pubic mound.
Perhaps we had helped to reduce FGM.
Vera
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