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Jeff Reynolds and Harry Smith had begun work at the mine in Kolbazi on the same day. Jeff was an accounting manager and Harry worked in distribution. Both men were expatriates from England, having moved to Africa lured by the promise of salaries that were four times what they could ever expect to receive at home. In addition, they were provided with small but comfortable bungalows in a safe section of the small city.
Jeff and Harry were similar in appearance and personality. Each was in their early-forties, and a lifetime behind a desk had left them with narrow shoulders, thin arms, and substantial paunches to go with their receding hairlines. Having met on the inbound plane, they had become good friends in the last few months.
Their wives were a few years younger, both in their late-thirties. Jeff's wife Andrea and Harry's wife Mary also struck up a close friendship, perhaps even more so than their husbands. The women shared a similar conservative upbringing growing up in England. Each was obsessively concerned with maintaining appropriate appearances in the small expatriate community. Amongst themselves and their husbands they strongly disapproved of any conversation that remotely veered toward the risqué. By any standard each woman also offered a quite unexceptional sex life to her husband. In other words, neither initiated any activity, all of which occurred in a darkened bedroom in the standard missionary position. Twice a week was considered more than enough by either party, whether due to lack of need by the one or lack of stamina by the other.
Andrea was a fairly short and relatively plump blonde woman but was by no means fat. She had maintained a pretty face even as it had filled out a bit. Her face was framed by shoulder length golden blonde hair, which with her full breasts and wide hips caught a number of men's eyes. Mary Smith was slightly taller with very short bright red hair. Her figure was a bit lither than Andrea's. While she had also added pounds to her hips, her large breasts and extremely creamy and lightly freckled skin attracted a few more eyes than did Andrea.
The vast majority of the locals had deep black skin, a physical difference that seemed to unconsciously make them even more foreign to the white women than did the language barrier. Despite their cultured airs, Andrea and Mary had somehow adopted the habit of referring to the locals as "kaffirs" to the astonishment of their husbands. Perhaps other wives in the community used the derogatory term. However, while the men were accustomed to a certain amount of vulgarity amongst each other, neither would think of using such a word.
After a few weeks working in the mine, Jeff and Harry scarcely seemed to notice the black workers, who simply represented costs to be accounted for, or human machinery to be moved to one place or another. The native workers easily sensed the white men's disdain toward them, feeling it was due less to the menial nature of their jobs, but more so to the color of their skin.
The two men also displayed a near total indifference to the local way of life and customs. In any event, neither white man bothered to determine the proportion of the mine's proceeds that lined the pockets of the central government bureaucrats and politicians, or that which went toward the exorbitant salaries of the expatriate technical staff, or to compare these to the amount left for the local economy.
On Saturdays, the Smiths and Reynolds often accompanied each other to the markets that dotted the town. Inevitably, Mary would express the same opinion at one point or another — "These kaffirs don't know the meaning of the word honesty" - heedless of the paltry living the merchant might be eking out in the dusty poverty stricken city. For Andrea's part, scarcely a trip passed that she did not remark that "These lazy kaffirs would not be so poor if they would show a little initiative." Even though the men could at least sense the injustice in these opinions, they let it pass both as a product of the sheltered lives they provided for their spouses, and as part of their overall indifference to the locals.
In addition, the couples frequently met for dinner at one of the more acceptable local restaurants in the small city, which offered the opportunity for the women to complain in a condescending manner about the inept (and completely black) wait staff. At dinner one Friday night, Harry surprisingly blurted "Let's rent a car and take a look around the countryside tomorrow. They say the area to the north has sizable herds and perhaps even an odd lion or hyena."
Jeff felt more than a little trepidation, having heard rumors of infrequent banditry, but did not want to appear the coward. "Alright Harry, what say we start early and make a day of it with the wives — take a picnic lunch and have a few drinks." The men agreed to meet the next morning at the local car agency, brushing aside any concerns expressed by their ladies.
So it was that the four stood haggling with an elderly black man over the rental of a small jeep at dawn the next morning — to the irritation of both wives. "Give the bloody kaffir half of what he wants and let's get on with it," Mary whined. They soon struck an agreement at three quarters of the rate, to her extreme displeasure, "Robbing kaffir thief," she muttered as they set off.
The men were dressed in khaki cargo shorts, tee shirts, ball caps and short hiking boots. Truth is neither looked like the outdoorsman they strove to be. Their wives had dressed nearly identically to each other - light khaki trousers, long sleeve white shirts, white flats, and wide brim straw hats. Their outfits might not be appropriate for a long hike, but served the dual purpose of protecting their white skin from any hint of suntan and also of maintaining their status among the poorly clothed local populace.
Following the weather beaten map provided with the jeep, they quickly entered a new and unfamiliar terrain. Paved roads were almost nonexistent and the jeep, although quite old, easy moved them along the dirt tracks toward the area indicated by the old man as being the best for viewing wildlife. Harry was feeling 20 years younger as he put the jeep through its paces until Andrea complained, "For god's sake slow down, you're covering my clothes with dust."
As the jeep whined through several pitiful villages, the locals stared in amazement and waved, while both women made a show of ignoring them, literally with their noses in the air.
However, when they reached the veldt even the women were entranced at the herds of wildebeest, zebras, and the occasional elephant. Jeff was the first to spot a lion, shouting "Look at the size of those beasts," while standing up in the moving jeep to point excitedly at two lionesses sweeping through a dry wash. No one dared to suggest stopping for a closer look.
Soon Andrea was constantly shouting "Look over there," as she avidly scanned the brush and pointed out herd after herd of animals they had previously seen only in zoos.
Mary even managed a few exclamations of "Oh, how beautiful!"
All four felt they were masters of their environment after several hours of successfully navigating around the alien landscape. The women suggested they find a shady spot for the lunch they had prepared. Harry pointed the jeep on a track toward a group of wooded hills that appeared to be off to the north according to his reading of the map. As they ran up into a valley, Jeff began to feel they had made a mistake in their choice of destination as the trees and thick underbrush quickly closed on the sides of the track and prevented any attempt at turning about. "This is not what I had in mind at all. Can't one find some grass and decent shade in this dust bowl of a country," complained Andrea.
Mary suddenly noticed a track ahead immediately on the right that appeared to lead toward the nearby hills. Harry quickly pulled the jeep to a stop at the intersection and the men warily eyed the track. A clearing appeared to open up about fifty yards away.
"What do you think?" asked Harry.
"Let's go for it," Jeff replied.
Harry rolled the jeep slowly down the track. As soon as it cleared the brush into the small clearing, the women let out piercing screams as four black men wearing dirty ragged tee shirts, shorts, and dusty old boots moved in quickly from the surrounding brush, surrounding the jeep with AK-47s leveled at the occupants.
Harry brought the slow moving jeep to an skidding halt and all four occupants stared in wide-eyed fright at the hard-faced men. As the men spoke rapidly to each other in Swahili, both Jeff and Harry knew they were in serious trouble. The well maintained weapons gave these men every appearance of being accustomed to their use — either as part of a small local guerilla movement intent on driving out the corrupt central government, as bandits, or both.
"Can I help you gentlemen," Jeff called out in an attempt at easy camaraderie. "We were just turning about. Perhaps you would like some water — it is parched out here."
The largest of the men, who appeared to be the leader, stepped forward and scanned the interior of the jeep with a scowl. The vehicle contained little except the occupants, some water bottles, a picnic basket and several blankets. The man waved his rife at Jeff and Harry barking, "All out of jeep now!" As the stunned whites simply stared at him, one of his comrades stepped forward and jabbed Jeff in the gut with his rifle barrel. Jeff shouted and doubled over in pain, and all four occupants quickly piled out of the jeep — with Jeff slowly bringing up the rear.
The other two blacks stepped forward and quickly ransacked the contents of the jeep, shouldering their rifles and filling their hands with the paltry booty. One shouted gleefully as he uncovered a bottle of whisky and another of gin in the basket, waving them about to his delighted comrades.
"We have money," offered Harry. "Perhaps you should take that and let us go. We have friends waiting for us back down the road."
"We take all," replied the black man, "Give money to men. Give rings and watches and jewelry too."
Two of his followers stepped up and relieved the men of their watches and wallets at gunpoint. Turning to the women they menaced them with the rifle barrels until the reluctant wives handed over two diamond wedding rings and two pair of gold earrings.
Following a command from the leader, the men herded the whites toward the brush at the back of the clearing. Meanwhile the apparent Number Two of the group, a small thin man named Zuberi, started the jeep and drove it headlong into the brush under three trees on the other side. Once the dust cleared the jeep had completely disappeared and the black man could be seen forcing his way out of the heavy undergrowth. Harry and Jeff knew it would never be spotted even if someone had a slight clue of where they were.
By now the white couples were beyond mere fright and the terrified women began to quietly whimper, holding their husbands by the arm, each demanding in loud whispers that they do something. The husbands quietly reassured their wives, telling them to be calm and quiet and that all would work out well. Obviously these men were just looking for loot. Neither Jeff nor Harry could quite convince themselves.
The smiling black men now herded their guests toward what appeared to be an impenetrable wall of brush, at least ten feet high. As they neared it the outline of a small path became apparent through the gloom.
"Look here we are English citizens", Harry protested, "You have no right to treat us in this way." The leader stepped forward and applied a ferocious punch to Harry's stomach, shouting "When Simba give order you obey. Now walk." Harry doubled up in pain with a load groan. Jeff shouted "That's enough," and leapt forward only to be dropped by a solid punch to the head by Zuberi.
The entire group stood about while the two groaning men slowly recovered themselves, and the two terrified women quietly sobbed while fussing over them. "Go now!" demanded Simba.
Zuberi took the point followed by the four whites with Simba and other two men bringing up the rear. The uneven rock strewn path was fairly flat for while, but soon led up a steep incline with a number of switchbacks. None of the whites were in remotely good physical shape and soon all four were wheezing and sweating profusely in the oppressive heat. Their captors laughed and chattered among themselves in Swahili, to the utter confusion of the targets of their mirth.
Just as it seemed they could not go on, they suddenly entered a small clearing just short of the ridgeline. A rough camp with a fire pit surrounded by several sleeping pallets filled the clearing. A heavy-set black woman clothed in the same quasi-uniform as the men tended a fire. She started with surprise when the four guests entered the clearing, but the surprise quickly turned to what all four of her guests took to be a predatory grin.
The clearing was well lit by the sunlight filtering through the rather thin canopy, which undoubtedly still managed to provide complete protection from observation from the air.
The five adjacent pallets were all arranged on one side of the fire pit about eight or none feet back from the pit. Each pallet abutted by the others, and appeared to consist of a collection of fronds, covered by some sort of tanned hide with two or three rough blankets on top of that. Two small trees stood no more than three feet immediately behind the sleeping area with several burlap packs hung on the short rope that stretched between them. Together, these appeared to comprise the majority of the worldly possessions of the natives (other than their weapons).
Simba drew a drink of water from a bucket, and flopped down on the pallets. While the men each drank none joined him, but instead surrounded the whites.
"Line up. Look at Simba," he commanded, as his men shoved the four into position with their rifle butts. The women each grabbed their husband's arms. He scanned them up and down with the same familiar scowl on his face.
Simba had worked in the mine several years previously. A smart and cunning man he found the pay poor and the treatment demeaning. He could also easily comprehend how the white staff was complicit in maintaining the status quo with the central government. After quitting, he worked as a sort of bouncer in a bar where the mineworkers drank, and where the white men often came to satisfy their curiosity about the native girls. Their behavior toward the girls only served to cause him to despise the whites more.
Simba met Imani at the bar, where she supported herself, but never by sleeping with customers. Imani did help to protect and care for the other girls. Several months earlier her brothers had joined a small rag-tag rebel group and had shortly after been killed in a brief fire fight with government troops. As a consequence she took any work available in order to survive. While Simba despised the whites, Imani hated them, having seen first hand how they treated the girls
Each had learned a small amount of rough English due to their place of employment — which was highly slanted toward vulgarity due to the principle transactions conducted in the bar. The other three men from a smattering of English from Imani and Simba — particularly the necessary vulgarities to understand the general thrust of Simba and Imani opinions of the fate due to the white staff at the mine.
Imani held a strange position in the group. She had refused all sex despite living in close quarters. She was almost as cunning as Simba, a good shot, and was also an exceptionally strong and vindictive woman. No one trifled with her.
Simba asked "These wives?"
Jeff answered "I am Jeff Reynolds. I work at the mine and this is my wife Andrea. My colleague, Harry Smith also works at the mine and this is his wife Mary. Who are you if I may ask?"
Simba ignored the question. "My name not important to you, he replied. "So both work at mine where help steal from people. You help cheat us — no taxes for people who work in mine."
Harry replied, "We don't cheat anyone. In fact I am sure if you contacted the mine they would be willing to discuss paying you for helping us find our way home."
"You pay tax today," Simba said with a thin smile.
At a nod from Simba, the other blacks shoved the two white men toward the two trees behind the pallets. Imani followed and produced a coil of rough rope from a backpack. Two of the men stepped forward, each shoving a white men up against a tree by the throat, and then kneed each in the groin, dropping their victims to their knees in agony. Imani quickly snared a length of coil around each man's neck and pulled them up against the trunk. The blacks quickly bound the men's hands behind the trunks.
Mary and Andrea shrieked and grasped each other in shock at the brutal subjugation of their husbands. Imani stormed across the pallets and slapped each about the face until the women sobbed quietly, holding their hands over their faces.
The loot from the jeep lay next to the fire pit. Simba and the other three men sat down cross legged on the pallets while Imani rummaged through the goods. She said something to Simba pointing at the basket.
Staring at the white women, he suddenly barked, "White women open basket. Bring food to freedom fighters." Andrea and Mary simply stared at him, still in shock, until Imani cuffed both on the back of the head, then joined the men on the pallets.
Now the white women scurried forward to open the basket. It only contained meat, bread, cheese, and a couple of apples but also the liquor. "Drinks first," Imani demanded. The frightened women pulled out paper plates and cups, making the decision wordlessly that Andrea would prepare the food and Mary would serve it. As Andrea filled a cup with whisky, Mary picked it up and attempted to hand it to Simba. "Show respect. Say sir," Imani blurted kicking the white woman's calf. Mary never imagined in her wildest nightmare that she would be reduced to serving a mere kafffir in such a fashion. Her face turned deep red as she lowered her head respectfully and handed the drink to Simba saying "Your drink sir". The other three men grinned approvingly at the submissive behavior of the woman. This process was repeated as each of the other four received their drinks, followed by plates that emptied the basket of all its food. Another round of drinks followed.
As the group finished the last round, the women stood about as if not sure what to do with themselves. The two women kept glancing at their husbands for reassurance, but none was forthcoming.
Simba eyed them up and down. "White women take off clothes," he suddenly blurted. Andrea and Mary stared at him as if the idea had never occurred to either, until Mary blurted "We will not, you uppity kaffir!"
Imani suddenly hurled herself on the two unsuspecting women, furiously lashing them with a knotted cord. The women shrieked and tried to cover themselves as they scurried about the clearing. Imani continued to land well placed blows.
"Leave them be you goddamn bastards!" shouted Jeff. Harry joined in with "Stop now you fucking black bitch." A word from Simba and two of the men jumped up and pummeled the kneeling white men into a silence only broken by their thick breathing.
Simba ordered Imani to stop and she pushed the stunned women forward toward him. "Take off clothes or get beat more and harder!" he barked at the women.
"Please, don't do this," begged Andrea.
"Now!" he barked.
The cowed women, neither of whom had ever undressed outside the security of a bedroom, began to disrobe in broad daylight in front of five terrifying black strangers. They each began with their hats, shoes and socks as if to delay the inevitable. Finally they slowly began to unbutton their shirts. Imani landed several slaps to the side of the head that encouraged the women to pick up the pace. Shirts and pants were discarded, which Imani hurled into the fire pit to join the hats, shoes and socks. The clothing slowly smoldered on the weak coals.
Now the women were standing immediately in front of the grinning and chattering men in a lacy white bras and panties, as their pale faces reddened with shame. As the men took in this once-in-a-million sight, Imani stepped up behind Andrea, produced a small knife from her pocket, and sent her bra flying off as the straps were cut by the razor-like blade. Andrea's milky white tits spilled out and she gasped and clasped her arms across her chest. Imani repeated the process with Mary, and now the two women stood stock still with their arms crossed. Imani quickly jerked their panties down to their thighs, and now the women frantically tried to cover both tits and crotch in front of the leering blacks.
Their husbands had somewhat recovered by this point and again began to shout obscenities at the natives, demanding that their wives be left alone. At this, Imani pulled the panties to the women's ankles, and gave each a push forward. Collecting the now discarded panties, she strode forward and stuffed a pair in each husband's mouth — taking care to ensure that each had a taste of the panties of the other's wife — all to the jeers and hooting of the men.
She turned her attention to the women as her male comrades stared at the windfall that had fallen into their laps. "Hands behind head," ordered Imani. When they were slow to obey, Imani slapped each on their white buttocks with terrific blows. The shrieking women quickly had their hands behind their heads, while Imani roughly kicked their legs apart to afford her friends a more complete view.
The now silent black men stared at the smooth pale white skin of the women — mesmerized by the hairless underarms, slightly sagging but still full heavy tits, and exotic bushes.
Andrea had a relatively thick golden patch between her round thighs, which still afforded a view of her thin pink slit. Her large nipples were a dark pink, closer to red. Mary on the other hand had smaller light pink nipples that were almost as pale as her skin, which itself was speckled from neck to thighs with light freckles. A thin patch of brilliant red fur did little to hide her large pink clitoral hood or thick lips.
The men's shorts began to quickly tent up as they stared at the white women. Becoming uncomfortable, they stood in unison discarding shirts, shorts, and boots until their only clothing were small leather bags strung around their necks. Andrea and Mary could only stare in horror at the large black erection sported by each of the men. All were between eight and nine inches, with a thick red bulbous head protruding from the uncut skin.
The men returned to lounging, taking in the fear-paralyzed women. Imani stepped over to the gagged men and ripped their shorts and underwear down to their knees in turn. Her sudden jeering shout brought the attention of her comrades as she knelt between the two men and held up their penises for display. The white men looked ludicrous, tied to the trees, panties protruding from their lips, with their cocks retreated into their small sacks. The blacks roared with laughter at the small pink appendages, neither of which exceeded two inches in its limp state. The truth was that neither man would exceed a thin four inches when fully erect. It appeared that while each black man was well above average, the opposite was true for the two whites.
Vicky
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