This is a sequel to The Trials of Pauline. Whilst searching for her father in the African jungle, Polly and her Eurasian friend, Marina, are subjected to a succession of bizarre punishments and sexual degradation - all of which she finds exhilarating and fulfilling. Those people who do not wish to read about the humiliation of beautiful women should avoid these stories.
*
Chapter One
When Polly came to, she sensed that she was in great danger. She was alone in a small clearing of the dark forest. The hot sunshine rarely penetrated the tree canopy to reach the deep undergrowth of the massive tall trees reaching up, competing for the light and air. The damp heat was exhausting, suffocating for humans. All around was the seemingly impenetrable tangle of creepers, bushes and tall grasses.
Polly was tied to one of the trees. Her arms were twisted round the trunk behind her, secured at the wrists with tough creepers. Her blouse was torn almost to shreds round her shoulders. Firm, full breasts, nipples thrusting upwards to the overhead canopy. Her elegant legs, now smeared with dirt and slime, were similarly bent round the tree, with ankles fastened together by more creepers. The tree grew at an angle so that her body was inclined backwards, her thighs forced wide open as her legs wrapped round the thick trunk.
Her flimsy pants had become ripped off long since with the lashing, revealing her bruised thighs. Polly's sweet vulva, its puffed lips pushing their way out of the hidden orifice, showed signs of the recent ravishing it had endured. Sperm stained her inner thighs, mingling with her own secretions. She felt humiliated and lonely; wanting the strong arms of her master encircling her frailty; to curl up on his naked lap, protected from harm.
Her memory suddenly flooded back! She had tripped and fallen in the thicket. The fall had knocked her unconscious. Kaldo, their guide and porter, had taken her prisoner after she and her companions had been ambushed in the dense forest, beaten and humiliated by the pygmies. Kaldo had returned to the clearing, after going on ahead to explore the territory, where he found Polly, with her travelling companions, Dwindali, the porters and Marina, bound and gagged. All had been beaten.
Polly and the Eurasian girl, Marina, had been ravished by the pigmies. The two women were tied, spread-eagled, between young saplings. Polly's blouse had got torn during the attack, her naked groin now showing the puffed genitals sheltering in downy blonde curls, tousled and wet, the occasional drip of sperm falling to the forest floor. The angry pink weals and blue bruises were evidence of the beating she had endured.
At the sight of Kaldo, there was relief in the faces of the three prisoners. He would release them and they could complete their journey to the village. But the sight of the pale, slender body, wrists and ankles tied to the trees, hanging helpless in front of him, inflamed the native's lust. Hunger for this frail, beautiful white woman welled up in Kaldo. He had controlled his desire for her so far, because he feared the anger and superiority of Dwindali. But Polly's protector was now bound and gagged. Helpless to interfere. This was his chance. Nothing stood in his way.
Polly watched with growing anxiety as Kaldo's eyes turned sinister. Licking his lips, he slowly unclipped the coiled whip from his waist-belt. His lips broke into a cruel smile. Realising his intentions, Polly became alarmed. With fear in her wide-open eyes, she shook her head wildly. The heat of her previous beating still stirred in her loins; her flesh bruised and swollen. But the gag prevented her from screaming out. Her companions looked on, powerless to intervene.
Polly yanked at the fastenings round her wrists and ankles. The saplings shook, their branches swaying wildly. But to no avail. The black giant, with muscular arms and shoulders bulging, his chest shining with perspiration, approached her slowly. Eyes roaming over her inclined body, the native eased his belt round his waist to displace the loin cloth from its frontal position. Polly stared hypnotically at the enormous half-filled penis, now swinging lazily from its nest of coarse, black hair encompassing his muscular belly.
The phallus was menacing. Kaldo came up to her, leering into her face. His foul breath and strong pungent sweat offended her nose. He stared at her young breasts, firm and rounded, the nipples engorged. Coarse hands stroked the contours. A stab of pain jolted through Polly as he suddenly pinched each nipple between thumb and middle finger, twisting them hard one after the other.
With a short laugh, he stepped back a few paces, lifting his whip arm, ready to strike. Polly stiffened in readiness for the blow. Her eyes filled with a mixture of excitement and dread as they followed the whip arm raised high. Suddenly, everything seemed to switch to slow motion. A swish! Polly watched the whip coil through the air towards her. The sting came with a sickening crack! It lashed round her plump buttocks, biting into the already swollen flesh. The end of the leather thong curled round her groin flicking painfully, raising a new red weal. Her body jolted with pain, her breasts bounced wildly. Polly cried out into her gag, eyes screwed up in pain. The heat stabbed into her loins.
The magnificent frame of her executioner twisted away from her, the muscles in his arm taught with effort, preparing for a second lash. A brutal smile split his black face, eyes gleaming with cruel delight. Polly opened her eyes. His monstrous phallus jerked larger, swaying obscenely before him. After a pause for his cruel eyes to concentrate on the target, he swung his arm. The whip curled through the air again. It lashed round her buttocks, stinging with a sharp pain. She yelled again!
'No, please! Enough!' Polly cried into her gag.
But her pleas were ignored. She squirmed, twisting her body around violently, tugging on the bonds round her wrists and ankles, in a vain attempt to escape. Her hips and breasts swung frenziedly. It was useless. Exhausted, she collapsed in despair, perspiring freely with the effort.
The savage merely laughed at her futile tussle. His white teeth split his black face with a callous sneer, arm relaxed, the whip dangling in front of him. Then, taking a deep breath, tensing his body for the swing, the brute twisted his body again. Swoosh! The third stroke, the heaviest so far, cut into her soft flesh with brutal power. Polly screamed, acutely aware of the stripe of red swelling where the lash had stung her flesh like wasp stings.
The heat flamed in her groin, the furnace within her melting her honey. It bubbled and dribbled freely over her distended lips. The earlier vaginal lubrication was being replenished, mixing with the remains of the pygmies' sperm drying on her skin. Polly knew she was to be Kaldo's slave. There was no escape.
Through the cloud of tears of agony, her blurred sight fixed on the brute's huge erection, now at full stretch, swaying insolently. The time would come when the monster would be crushed into her vulva - after the scourging was over. Kaldo faced her, breathing hard, open legged, the enormous head of his penis thrusting out of its foreskin. A thick white ooze seeped from its eye, dribbling slowly down the thick shaft. He looked down. Scooping the sticky mess onto thick fingers, he approached close to Polly.
With a loud guffaw he smeared the paste over her lips and teeth with a rough wipe across her face. Polly jerked her head from side to side with distaste but couldn't avoid the slime. It smelt loathsome! Putrid and bitter. Then, he took four steps back and lashed her once more with the full weight of his body behind the strokes, sweat trickling down his black face, grimacing with pleasure. Polly's body writhed and jolted with the lash. The pain stabbed its way to her very core.
Her body oblivious to any new pain, Polly was dimly aware of being untied from the trees. She collapsed to her knees in sheer exhaustion. The cheeks of her bottom were burning with the double beating they had taken. Her back was heavily bruised. Kaldo had intended ravishing her there and then, but decided to delay his carnal pleasure until he had reached his hut. At the settlement, he could take his time exploring the beauties offered by the luscious curves of the dainty white woman. Soft pale skin would drive him wild with desire. After he had indulged his lust to the limit, he would put her at the mercy of the rest of the village.
The Kwali tribe was well-known for the might of man's phallus. It was a trait inbred in the males. The tribe was also feared for the severity of the cruelty it practised on its women. After the men had taken their enjoyment of Polly's body, it was unlikely the white woman would ever walk again. They would use her as a sex doll; she would be thrown around and finally impaled on the massive shaft of the God Mbotu.
This was the remains of a tree trunk about a half-metre high used to chasten and punish rebellious women in the tribe, or those caught breaking the marriage vows. The remains of the tree were infested by a species of lice which preyed on human flesh. Once impaled on the trunk, the women's wrists were fastened to strong roots protruding from the ground before being whipped, spat on and humiliated by the villagers. As the lice came out to do their work inside the vagina, reducing the offender to a screaming beast, the male children in particular would enjoy mocking her, encouraged by their sisters and mothers.
Whatever foul dirt they could find would be thrown at her. There she would remain in excruciating torment until sun-set before being brought before her family to beg forgiveness for her transgression in front of the whole village. Her genitals would be douched with bulls' urine until free from any lingering lice. It would be many days before the vagina was sufficiently recovered, ready to fulfil its purpose in life once more.
