Chapter 6
As the drugs wore off, I felt a chill come over me. I looked around the room and I wondered where Nigel Greener was. I was still tied up and my body ached. But it was a sweet ache, a very sweet ache.
I closed my eyes and thought about the jungle movies that I had seen as a child in Birmingham. Those had been some of my favorite films in those days, because I felt somehow connected to the natives in the jungle. Now I was in Africa, I thought, and I was even more connected. Soon I would be a native in the jungle too.
Of course, in those old jungle movies that they had shown in Birmingham, the black natives were not that important. They usually just threw spears and mumbled about JuJu or something like that. The heroes were always white and tanned, sometimes jungle men who had been raised by animals, who were natural and handsome beings. I had taken my cue from those jungle men and I had decided that they were better than the natives because they were white and strong and smart as only white men could be. That was the reason that I had found it easy to give up my honor to white boys, to suffer under them. I knew that whites were better than blacks, than niggers from the savage jungles of Africa.
But I lay there in that room and I felt the aches in my body and I remembered one jungle movie that I had seen in which the niggers had been treated with a bit more feeling. That was the movie about a jungle tribe that was being destroyed by white men from a foreign country. The white man of the jungle, the hero, who seemed to be an American, had come to save that jungle tribe from extinction. And he worked with a little, nigger girl, a princess from that tribe. I had identified with that nigger girl. I knew that she and the white hero were friends, and I knew that they could have been lovers too, if it had not been for the rules of Hollywood in those days. They did not even touch. They just looked at each other, and the white hero of the jungle seemed to think of that little, nigger girl as his equal.
And there was one scene that came to me there in that room, the scene where the little, nigger princess had been tied to an altar. The foreigners, the evil white men, had talked another jungle tribe into kidnapping her and that tribe was going to sacrifice her to their gods.
She lay on that jungle altar and the drums beat around her and she was frightened. But she also retained a certain nigger nobility that I had liked. I had thought that I would be noble like that when I was offered up as a sacrifice to the jungle gods.
And then the white man, the hero, had swooped down on the bad niggers and had saved his little, nigger princess. I suppose that I had thought that it would be nice to have a white man save me like that. But I had never found a white man who would save me. All the white men seemed to want to sacrifice me. I thought that that was what was meant for me, continual sacrifice from my white masters.
And then I remembered that even Ranee was going to sacrifice me. He was going to give me to Bungo in exchange for that other nigger girl, the famous one that I looked like. She was the important, nigger princess, I thought. I was just another girl in the jungle, an extra who was not worthy of salvation.
And I knew that I would have to live with that knowledge, that I was unworthy.
When Nigel Greener opened the door and stepped into the room, I looked up at him.
"Save me," I muttered.
But the man did not seem to hear me. He walked around the bed and sat down in a chair next to the bed. He pulled himself up close to me and leaned over me and smiled.
He was wearing a pair of shorts then, but I knew that he was not finished with me.
I knew that he was preparing me for Bungo Adi.
He started to talk to me, as if I were a captive audience, which I guess I was.
I lay there, aching and tied, and looked at him with eyes of love and surrender. I listened to his story.
"All I ever wanted to do," he said, "was be a blues singer. I loved the blues. I grew up listening to all the blues records that my step-father brought into the house, and I had a good voice, a deep voice that seemed to capture all the troubles of my people. But I really did not have a people. My step-father was black, but I was white. I did not fit in here in Africa. So I went to the United States. I thought that the blues had come from there and I would go there and make my name as a singer. But, when I got to the United States, they all laughed at me. They said that I was a white and a white man could not sing the blues. They told me to go back to Africa where I belonged. And I thought that that was strange, because I did not belong in Africa either. I did not belong anywhere."
Nigel Greener took a deep breath and then he smiled.
"But I came back," he said. "I came back when I had heard that my mother and my step-father were both dead. They were killed in a bus accident. Isn't that funny? A bus accident. It is hardly an African way to die, you know."
"I know," I muttered.
But he did not seem to hear me.
"I came back because I knew that Nata needed me. She was my sister, the daughter of my white mother and my black step-father, and she was very pretty. But she was also silent. It is not that she is a mute. She just never learned to talk. She is not very smart and I knew that she would be eaten alive if I were not here to help her. So I came back to Africa and I took Nata out of the home that they had put her in and I came to Zero Smelling. I asked Zero for a job. I told him that I would do anything for him. He looked at me and he smiled. He said that it was nice to have a white man beg for a job here in Africa. And he took me in and he made me his aide and his servant. I have worked with Zero for many years. He has been like a father to me. I know that he is a fat pig and a worthless man, but he has helped me. He even lets me sing the blues while I drive him around the city. He says that I have a nice voice for the blues."
I just stared at that man. I knew that there was some tragedy in his life that he was trying to tell me about, but the words did not come out sounding tragic. They sounded flat, as if he were speaking a language that he did not know very well.
Nigel Greener pushed his chair back and stood up. He smiled at me.
"They are going to make you serve old Bungo," he said. "But first you will serve me and Nata. That is what Zero has agreed to. He thinks that we can prepare you for Bungo."
"You mean Zero and the others know that I am in here?" I asked.
"Of course. I would not do anything without Zero's approval. He is like a father to me."
And then Nigel Greener turned around and walked to the door and opened it. He called to someone outside that door.
"Nata! She is ready for you now!"
I lay there and thought about all the plans that Ranee and Jim and Zero had made for me, plans that they had not told me about. I felt very left out and then I remembered that I was nothing to any of those men. I was just something to be used, something to be taken to Bungo Adi.
And I was also something to be prepared, like a fine meal for the jungle king, Bungo.
I looked toward the door and I saw the girl enter. She looked to be about eighteen or nineteen and she was beautiful, one of the most beautiful girls that I had ever seen in my life.
She was naked and she was thin, like a model. Her tits were high on her body and her skin was tawny. Her cheekbones were high and her eyes were large and black and shining.
She did not smile at me. She just looked at me as if I was nothing.
And she stood there with that patch of dark hair between her legs and waited for her brother to give her some kind of order.
Nigel Greener turned to me. "This is Nata," he said. "My sister. She is beautiful, isn't she?"
"Yes," I muttered. "She is beautiful."
"She is only half-nigger," Nigel muttered. "Yes. I can tell that."
"And she will help to prepare you for Bungo Adi."
I did not know how she would do that. But I knew that I could not refuse such a beautiful, silent young woman.
I lay there and waited for her to move toward me. I did not even notice the way that Nigel was moving around the room. I did not notice it until he handed Nata the whip.
"Beat her," he said to his sister softly. "Beat her nigger flesh."
And the beautiful, half-nigger woman moved toward me like a person who was walking in her sleep.
I lay under her and tensed my body. I sighed to her.
"Yes," I said. "Beat me. Beat my nigger flesh."
I was overcome with passion for this beautiful woman.
I wanted to feel that whip-the whip in her hand-fall on me.
She raised that whip high over her head and she looked down on me, but she still did not seem to see me. Her face was as blank as the night sky.
And she brought that whip down on my naked, nigger flesh.
The lash bit into me and I trembled and tossed on the bed.
But Nata continued to whip me, continued to bring that thing down on my body. She lashed me with a steady, rhythmic motion, giving me what I needed to prepare me for Bungo Adi.
And I tossed on the bed in my ropes and felt the tears of lust coming to my eyes.
That was what I needed, I thought. That was what I wanted more than anything else in the world. The whip felt like hot fire on my flesh and the crack of that whip was the only sound that meant anything in the world to me.
Nata continued to whip me with that rhythmic lashing, and I think that she would have kept on whipping me for all eternity if Nigel Greener had not stepped up and caught her hand.
"That is enough of the whipping, Sister," he said softly. "She has suffered enough."
And I wanted to cry out to him that I had not suffered enough. The whipping had caused my pussy to fill with juices, had set me on fire with lust again. I wanted that whipping to continue forever and ever and ever. I looked at that silent woman's beautiful face and I wanted nothing more than her whip and her love.
But then Nigel Greener took the whip away from the woman and he whispered to her.
I did not hear what he told her, but I saw the young woman move toward my bed.
And I sighed as she climbed onto that bed and moved over my face.
Soon I was looking up into her snatch, her pink gash, her sweet hole.
And then Nigel Greener spoke to me softly, almost tenderly.
"You will eat out her cunt. That will help to prepare you for Bungo. You will eat out her cunt because you are a nigger and she is only a half-nigger and that makes a difference. That makes her better than you are, Melody."
And I gulped and nodded my head as I stared up at that gash.
I knew the difference between that girl and me, and I knew that Nigel Greener was correct.
She was only a half-nigger, and she was beautiful and silent.
I was a real nigger, new to Africa, and I was not as beautiful as this young woman. I knew that I could not be as silent as she was either. There was something about that silence that made her even more delectable. It was an African silence and I thought about it and I could hear nothing around me as I stared up into her cunt.
And then she started to lower that cunt down on my mouth.
I had never done anything like this to a woman before, but I was more than willing to do it now.
I stuck out my tongue and the beautiful, tawny woman reached down and spread her pussy lips.
Then she eased herself onto my tongue and I drove deep inside of her and that sweetness of her snatch seemed to explode in my head.
I moved my tongue around in that hole.
I felt the syrupy stuff come out of that hole and run over my nigger face. I moaned.
And the girl was silent as she nestled there on top of me.
The aroma of her sweet cunt filled my head and made me sleepy. But I kept my tongue active in her, driving into her and touching the sides of her hole with pleasure. Then the half-nigger woman raised up and spread her pussy lips again and I saw the clitoris, the pink piece of flesh that meant so much to me at that moment. I felt that ache in my body as I tried to move in my ropes. But I lifted my head just a little and ran my tongue over the clitoris, licked her and stabbed her with my warm, wet tongue and felt the tension in that little piece of meat. This was wonderful!
I could feel my body churning and my cunt burning. I could feel the ropes too and the ropes seemed to make it better for me. I licked away on that clitoris and waited for the young woman to moan or gasp. But she was still silent, and that silence drove me on. I thought that I could almost taste her silence on that clitoris.
I pressed my nigger lips against the clit and sucked it into me. I worked on that clit with the same kind of rhythm that she had used when she beat me with her whip.
And the sweetness swelled up in my mouth and in my head and fill me with more sweet desire. :
This silent woman was terrific, I thought.
And then I heard another voice, and I knew that it was not hers.
It was a gasping, male voice, and the accent had a sickening, Southern flavor to it.
"Well, I see the nigger girl is learning a lot here," Zero Smelling said.
And then the beautiful woman jerked on my face and pulled away from me. Her clitoris slipped out of my mouth and she moved off my tied body.
I hated to see her go and I hated Zero Smelling for interrupting me in that way.
But I looked at the fat sweating man as he leaned there against the door. He was laughing with that strange, wheezing sound.
"Bet that nigger cunt is on fire after something like that, don't you, Nigel?" Zero asked.
"Yes sir. I am sure that it is," the white man said with respect.
"Wonder how we can put the fire out in that cunt," Zero said thoughtfully.
But I could tell from the expression on his pig-like face that he had already had something planned, something that would put the fire out in my snatch.
"Get the dildo, Nigel. The white one. We are going to fuck her with a nice, cold, white dildo. White would look good in that nigger cunt."
And, even though I hated that fat man, despised him, I could not let that capture my zealous need for fucking. I spread my legs as wide as I could as I lay there, bound, and I gasped to him.
"Yes, Zero. Yes. Fuck me with a white dildo. A cold, white dildo in my nigger cunt."
Nigel moved into my field of vision and handed the long, white thing to the fat man.
I would have preferred it if Nigel had fucked me, I thought. I would have preferred it if Nigel or Nata had slammed that white dildo up my cunt. But I would take it from anyone, even Zero. I needed to be fucked that much.
That fat man moved to the bed and sat down next to me. He put the dildo to my face and pressed it against my cheek. It was cold, ice cold, and it made me shiver.
"White dildo on nigger skin," he said with a harsh, gasping laugh. "That looks good."
I felt the cold dildo against my cheek and I sighed. I did not want it there. I wanted it in my cunt.
I thought that I could melt that dildo down. My cunt was that hot, that filled with sexy heat.
"Fuck me, fat man," I muttered. "Fuck my nigger cunt, you fat turd."
And that brought the anger out in Zero Smelling.
"What did you call me?" he hissed. "What did you call me, nigger?"
And he brought that dildo back a bit and then slammed it into my face.
That cold blow hurt and made me wince, but I loved it.
I wanted more of his anger. I thought then that the only thing about that man that was any good was his fat anger, his wrath. I wanted him to hit me and fuck me with that anger.
So I screamed out to keep that anger working in his system.
"Fat turd! Fat piece of shit! Slimy, fat Pig!"
And I saw Zero Smelling's eyes close to just a slit and his face got very red.
And then he hit me with that cold, hard dildo again and again, slammed it against both of my cheeks with his fury. Then he pressed that dildo against my lips.
"Suck it," he snarled. "Suck it you nigger bitch."
And I opened my mouth and he jabbed that dildo far back into me, battering the back of my throat with that cold hardness.
And I trembled there on the bed and felt my pussy quaking as I lifted my legs again and again.
I felt the coldness and the hardness in my mouth and that was good.
But I wanted that in my pussy more. I wanted that fat pig to fuck me with his anger.
When Zero yanked the dildo out of my mouth, I gasped and then I started to call him names again.
I did not want him to forget that I was a nigger bitch and he was a fat pig of a white man.
"Fat slob. Fat piece of shit," I muttered. "You are nothing but a big ball of sweating fat."
And Zero did just what I wanted him to do.
He moved that dildo between my outstretched nigger legs.
And he growled at me with a fury and slammed that cold cock-shaped, white thing into my pussy.
I sighed and fucked against it. That coldness came up from the dildo and seemed to spread through me. :
And I fucked the dildo to battle that cold with the heat of my cunt.
I worked against it as best I could as I lay there bound, and Zero Smelling rammed the white thing into me, penetrating me with that deep and brutal chill.
"You nigger slut," he snarled. "You nigger. You worthless nigger."
And I matched his insults with my own. I gasped as he fucked me with that thing.
"Fat man. Fat turd. Fat tub of guts. Fat piece of shit. Fat. Fat. Fat."
And Zero Smelling wheezed over me as he worked hard to batter my cunt with that dildo.
"White into nigger black," he muttered. "White dildo into nigger pussy."
"Fat pig. Fat scum. Fat shit. Fat tub of guts."
I watched as Zero's face grew red with fury and I listened to his gasp. He was sweating like an overworked, farm animal. But he kept working in my cunt.
It had turned into a battle of wills, and I was going to make sure that I did not lose.
I heaved against the pistoning dildo and sighed and muttered, to myself and to the fat man.
"Zero Smelling," I said, "you stink. You sweat. You are nothing but a pig."
I wanted to keep that anger working in him and I wanted to make sure that that anger was used when he slammed into my cunt. And then I started to gasp. I could not even get the insults out. I was too turned-on. I churned there in my ropes and I whimpered and I knew that I was going to come.
The man continued to slam that dildo into me with one hand. With the other hand, he touched his fat chest and I looked at that and I thought for a minute that he was having a heart attack. This was probably more work than he had done in a long time, I thought.
But he was not having a heart attack. He was just turned on too.
And he gasped and groaned and yelled out the word.
"Nigger!"
And I came, bouncing my ropes against that cold dildo, feeling that thing slam into me and feeling that the heat of my cunt melt that coldness of that big, white thing.
And then I sighed and relaxed and Zero Smelling carefully pulled the dildo out of me.
I was surprised that he did not want to torture me any more. He just moved away from the bed and stumbled. Nigel Greener stepped forward to help the fat man to a chair.
Zero Smelling sat there in the chair with the white dildo in his hand.
And then he lifted that dildo to his mouth and he stuck out his little, pig tongue. He licked that dildo and tasted the inner sweetness of my nigger cunt.
Then the white man smiled at me and spoke to Nigel Greener.
"Old Bungo is sure going to like her. That nigger gal is something special, Nigel."
And Nigel Greener looked at me and smiled and that silent mulatto woman just looked at me.
And I felt honored. I felt that I had won some contest there in Africa, the land that I would call home from now on.
And I closed my eyes and could not wait to see this Bungo Adi, to show him that African king what I could do. I was sure that Bungo would honor me too, honor me with pain and passion, just like an African king should honor a sexy, wonderful, nigger girl.