Into Africa Ch. 06

CHAPTER 6: THE MEDALLION

I woke in the morning to the sounds of the shower and cabinets and drawers opening and closing in the bathroom. After a moment of confusion about where I was, I recognized our bedroom and the sounds of Robert getting ready for the workday. I turned to the side and gazed out the window at the new day. I wasn't sure how I had gotten into bed. Did I walk here on my own? Did Robert meet me at the door and help me?

I followed him to the kitchen a few minutes after he left the bedroom. However last night ended, it had happened. When I left, Robert had been quite compliant about all that was happening to me. I had no reason to think anything had changed. It had, though.

He sat at the little kitchen table as I fumbled with the coffee maker and considered what to make for breakfast. I was still exhausted but this was my role for him.

"What in the world happened to you, Ann?" I turned around and gazed at him dumbly. "You looked awful last night when they brought you in." He snorted. Was that disgust? "Hell ... you don't look much better now ..."

I looked down. I was naked. I always put a robe on for Robert. Naked was too much but naked is what I am used to now.

"You were fucked, weren't you," he went on. He suddenly stood up. "This has to stop, Ann. They've brainwashed us or something. It came to me yesterday, then I saw you and I knew for sure." He left and moments later came back dressed. "This stops or we're going to have to go back home."

I was stunned. I fled back to the bedroom, slammed and locked the door ... and cried. I must have fallen asleep, too. What woke me was pounding at the front door. I stumbled down the hallway to the door and flung it open without a thought to still being naked. I threw myself into Dimka and began crying, again. He carried me back into the house and sat in an easy chair in the living room with me across his lap. After I calmed down some, he asked me what happened. I told him everything that was said that morning.

"I wondered," he offered. "Mr. Garrett seemed upset. He looked upset last night, too, but just watched as I put you to bed." Dimka was caressing my arm. Now and then his thumb grazed the side of my breast. "He wasn't acting like he was before."

He shifted us and pulled his phone out, swiped his thumb over the screen, then pressed. He smiled at me and pulled me close to his body as he put the phone to his ear. I felt his strong, muscular body through his clothes. It was comforting and reassuring. I could only hear one side of the conversation.

"Sorry to bother you, again, sir, but I was right. She was crying when I got here." Pause. "Yes, sir, he was very upset which is what concerned me. His demeanor was not normal." Pause. "In my lap, sir. She's quieted now." Pause. "Naked." Pause. He chuckled. "No, sir. Despite the earlier crying, I don't think there is any change." I looked up at him hearing that. He bent his face down and I kissed his thick lips, then cuddled into him, my hand caressing his broad chest. He moved his free hand to cup a breast and I sighed. His hand slid down my body and I moved the outside leg to give him room. His fingers caressed my pussy and I moaned softly. "No change, sir." Pause.

He ended the call and placed his phone on the side table. "Mr. Contee. He wants to come and talk to you. He's concerned about you, Mrs. Garrett. He wants to make sure you are okay."

"Would you like some coffee while we wait? It should still be fresh."

He shook his head. "You know that's not what I want."

I blushed. I still can. They find it attractive. "Me, either," I confide.

I slid off his lap and offered my hand. He stood and I led him back to the bedroom and its unmade bed. He was very familiar with this room, of course. Many a day I washed the sheets before Robert came home. I helped strip him quickly and settled him on the bed. He was aroused. A damsel in distress, I wondered? I straddled his thighs and moved over his hips, raised his long cock, and raised myself higher to settle my pussy over the head. I eased down over it and sighed. I worked it into my hole until I felt it deep. I leaned down onto his chest, kissing his broad, muscled, black chest before working up his neck to his mouth. My hips began making slow, short movements on his cock.

I moaned into his mouth. "Oh ... yessss ... thank you, sir."

"Better now?" he asked softly.

I sat up, raised high on his cock until it nearly escaped my clenching pussy, and dropped back down with a smooth movement. I sighed, "Oh ... God ... yesssss." I looked down at him. "Thank you, sir."

He chuckled. "Glad I could be of assistance."

I giggled as I continued moving up and down on his shaft. "Oh ... Dimka ... you have no idea how much."

Then, we fucked. It was like we were desperate lovers who hadn't seen each other for weeks instead of hours. I fucked him hard and urgently, then he rolled us and returned the favor. After a while, he flipped me abruptly, raised me to my knees, my chest pressed into the bed, and he plunged back into my pussy and fucked me with wonderfully powerful and dominant thrusts.

I was about ready to cum when another big, dark cock appeared on my face. I opened my mouth without looking up and it plunged into my mouth and throat. Fingers pinched my clit and I exploded in an orgasm. The cock in my mouth pulled back as I mumbled a cry and panted through my release, then began fucking my throat, again. Then, both cocks pulled out. I moaned my frustration until I found Mr. Contee's naked body reclining next to me. I eagerly straddled him and only looked down into his face after settling my body fully down on his cock. He pulled me to him and I gasped as we kissed and I felt Dimka pressing his well-coated cock at my asshole. He forcefully pressed into my ass and I groaned into Mr. Contee's mouth. Double penetrated by big African cock ... what husband?

After we all climaxed, I was finally able to serve that coffee that was still hot, though the coffee maker had turned off.

"Do you think he intends to take you back home?" Mr. Contee sipped the coffee and watched me over the rim of his cup as I arranged some leftover pastry for them. We were all still naked. He and Dimka sat at the kitchen table as I moved around the kitchen. I snuck peeks at their long cocks with the sheen of our orgasmic juices on them. They blatantly watched me knowing they could detect their cum leaking from my holes front and back.

"How did this happen, sir?" I questioned. "He was so compliant when I left."

Mr. Contee nodded and sighed. The sound was the closest I had ever heard from any of them that had the slightest hint of defeat. "We had to stop his messaging sooner or later. We chose this weekend while you were gone. The process wasn't sustainable over a longer time." He reached up as I stood near him at the table. He took a nipple between thumb and forefinger. It was an action without hesitation or doubt or question. He knew I would not only allow it but welcome it. I moved slightly closer and parted my legs just in case. "We had hoped, wrongly apparently, that the months of messaging might have taken for him."

"It didn't," I responded with the obvious. "So ... I mean ... well ... with me it just pulled out what I wanted? I mean deep inside me somewhere?"

"Regrets?" he asked.

"I'm not leaving, sir, if that's what you're wondering."

"Even if he decides he is leaving?"

I glanced at Dimka who was watching intently. I glanced down at his cock, that wonderful cock that took me to heaven. I returned my gaze to Mr. Contee. I shook my head. "I'm not leaving if I can be of service here to you two and the others."

"Mr. Okafor thinks you are the one ... for the medallion."

"I still don't know what that means. I just want to be of service to United Africa, sir."

"He might threaten you with divorce."

I looked at them both and offered a smile, "As you said earlier, sir, I guess it wasn't sustainable."

He returned my knowing smile. We were back in the bedroom where the two of them fucked me in several positions, trading back and forth, plunging into my holes, forcefully and dominantly thrusting their cocks into my pussy, ass, and throat. I came several times before they dumped more cum into one of my holes.

Robert returned that night in a huff. He slammed the front door still in a rage or again in a rage. The door didn't slam shut, though. Dimka stood in the way. The sight of Dimka had a settling effect on Robert. I giggled internally. It would have that effect on almost any man.

"Start packing! We're leaving. I'm not going to stand for my wife being abused by these ... these ... men." He gulped a breath. "I resigned. Mr. Contee has my letter. We're leaving." It was only then that he seemed to really see me. Stunned. "You're naked! See what they've done? I won't allow it." He turned and in a show of strength I hadn't ever seen in him, he shouted at Dimka, "You can't abuse her, anymore!"

I laughed as I walked past him and settled alongside Dimka who wrapped an arm around me and cupped a breast. Mr. Contee and I talked it all out earlier. I knew where I stood and I knew I was needed here by them. My service to them was wanted. He also notified me when he had received the email with the resignation letter. I was prepared.

"Don't be silly, Robert. You are under contract. You can't just walk away, you'll lose everything from the past 6 months."

He stared at me. There was less rage now. He could sense something but he still pressed his argument. "I don't care. We've still got savings back home. We'll start over." I shook my head. He watched Dimka's hand leave my breast and slide down to stroke my bare ass. This was all planned.

I shook my head, again. "Robert ... listen to me, dear. I'm not being abused by anyone."

"We were being brainwashed somehow!" he raged, again. "This isn't you, Ann. Their making you do this. I only realized it this weekend. We have to leave. I won't allow this to continue."

I shook my head. "I'm not leaving, Robert. This is what I want. Nobody is forcing me. I know they were using messaging; they told me ... a long time ago. I realized it was what I wanted, though. My God, Robert, you've seen their cocks!"

He looked at me in shock. Then blurted out his last effort, "I'll divorce you and take everything. You'll have nothing! No court would dispute my claim."

I smiled calmly. I played my hand as the men had told me. "We're not in the States, Robert. I'll win here. They'll make sure of it." Too bad. It was sad. I had loved him. Just not sustainable, I guess.

* * * *

After Robert left (he did and, as I had been assured, I kept the house and half the investments and liquid assets), Dimka was a frequent visitor. He continued to be my driver but also drove for others. It seemed he had a lot of downtime, though, and I welcomed him spending it with me.

One night, "Can I ask you something, Dimka?" I was lying on his body, my chin propped on my forearms folded over his powerful chest. It was part of the magnetism of the man for me: nearly a foot taller, double my weight, very little body fat on his body that made him seem like a god, and all that with the biggest cock and the strength to use it like none other.

I had just fucked him cowgirl and his softening cock was still well-buried in my clenching pussy. He nodded. He wasn't a man of a lot of words, but I knew that even from the time he began training me to be what I now was.

"Have I become the United Africa whore?" Ultimately, it probably didn't matter. It was a term that nobody used. I had wanted cock and I was getting it. His intent gaze made me wonder, though.

"Am I still being tested?" I asked as a hand moved to touch my throat where the choker and medallion had been that weekend. He merely smiled which brought a smile to my face, too. I still didn't know why the medallion mattered to me or what it meant to have it. Mrs. Okafor mentioned it brought a lot of cock but I was already getting cock, many of them big. I found the thought had me moving on his cock with short movements and that his cock was again growing inside me. I squeezed the muscles around his shaft and squeezed other thoughts out. His growing cock was all I now was interested in.

* * * *

Dimka led me down the hallways of the top floor of the United Africa Headquarters building. Offices, cubicles, and people scurrying around. All deeply black. All very busy. All professionally dressed. I was out of place and a number of the people looked with the same recognition. A white, casually dressed woman in a sea of black professionals.

Dimka had chosen my outfit for this meeting with Mr. Okafor at his main office. It was a halter summer dress and sandals. The light jersey material dress was loose, tied behind the neck, backless, and hung to mid-thigh. The bodice was open to below my breasts and the sides loosely hung and easily gaped. A bra was impossible but he offered no panties, either.

Dimka knocked on a door and waited. The young secretary sitting at the desk outside the door boldly scanned my body up and down. Yes, definitely out of place here. The call came from inside and Dimka opened the door for me. The office was large and elaborately decorated in African symbology and artifacts. I found Mr. Okafor behind an expansive desk, his wife sitting in a chair at the side of the desk, and Mr. Ibori and Contee on a couch. I heard the door behind me click closed, then felt fingers at the tie of the halter. Once untied, the loose dress fell from my breasts and dropped to the floor at my feet. Although initially surprised to be exposed in the office within the Corporate building, being naked in front of these people was not unusual. Sensing movement, I looked down to see Dimka gathering the discarded dress. I casually raised one foot, then the other for him to remove it from below me. I felt a nudge at the small of my back and I stepped in front of the desk.

I met Mr. Okafor's eyes, then glanced to the side at his wife who was watching, a knowing smile on her face, her eyes scanning my nakedness.

"How have you been doing, Mrs. Garrett?" Mr. Okafor began. "I mean since your husband left."

Instead of directly answering his question, "Sir, I'm not a married woman any longer ... or soon won't be, at any rate."

He smiled pleasantly and glanced at the other men in the room. There was an appearance of satisfaction that my comment meant more to him than just a reaction to my name. "Very true, my dear. Would Ann be more appropriate, then?" He was gazing at my body. He lifted his hand from the desk slightly and opened the thumb and fingers. I parted my feet to about shoulder-width in response. He smiled, again. "Of course, we could always refer to you merely as 'slut'."

I flinched slightly, hoping the flinch I felt wasn't noticed by them. I now would do anything for African big cock. Anything. I'd always been treated with respect, though. The idea of possibly being merely a slut in their minds jolted me but deep down it ultimately wouldn't change anything. Not at this stage.

"Or," came Mrs. Okafor's voice at the side, "Osuni."

I looked over at her not understanding the word. When I looked back at Mr. Okafor, he was smiling broadly. "Osuni ... the goddess of beauty, sensuality, and lust." He was watching me intently. I could feel every eye in the room suddenly more intensely on me. I flushed, blood and arousal flooding through me. I was sure they all could see the physical change on my tanned, but white body. I instantly became wet ... very wet.

"Osuni is a regional legendary figure from where our tribe still exists," he continued. "It is said she was the supreme concubine of the god of war and strength. Her story has passed down through vast generations of men and women for they were inspired by the warrior attitude for men and the devotional service for women. You see ... Ann (and he smiled at using my name) ... Osuni wasn't just a concubine." He shook his head softly and his eyes became unfocused as he stared into space as if seeing something clearly from those ancient times. "Her sexuality instilled strength and fearlessness. She was offered to all the men of the tribe and their warriors became the fiercest and most powerful. No other tribe would oppose them and they maintained peace in the vast region until an outside threat appeared." He refocused on me. "Do you know what happened?"

"She was shared with the other tribes?"

"Exactly! The outside threat was soundly defeated and driven away. Despite being an overwhelming force, they had never encountered such fearless and determined fighters." He paused, a prideful expression forming on his face as if the encounter had just occurred. "Ever since, the people have sought the woman in their midst who embodied Osuni to continue to ensure the strength and power of their men. Legend has it that the woman might even hold the position for most of their life until she could no longer adequately service the men. The woman cannot be married to a single man. She is for all men of tribes in the region. Osuni ceased to exist but in legend. The people believed the next Osuni could take generations to find."

"Or longer," came the voice of Mr. Contee behind me.

"Or longer, yes. Centuries even. It is a special kind of woman who shows the capability in her heart of being Osuni. It is to this day believed an honor for any woman to ascend to even being thought of as such. A woman proved to be worthy ... she would be revered by all. She lives a life of giving pleasure and of sensual delights."

"You see men are the problem. We are strong but we don't always think beyond ourselves. Even for gods. Osuni can be intoxicating. Her simple lust and sensual pleasure. Men have been the problem from the beginning. After their victory over the outsiders and peace in the region was restored, the god had to have her for his own. So much power was within her. Once he married her for his own, her power was gone." He looked embarrassed. I didn't think this man could openly show it. "I am more of a Western man now than tribal. But ... I, we, still believe that she might return. I have sought to find the next Osuni."

The implication of what he was describing wasn't lost on me. My feet parted, I could feel my lubrication leaking onto the insides of my thighs. My nipples were hard as pebbles. My pussy was involuntarily clenching around nothing, seeking, yearning for penetration.

Mrs. Okafor reached toward her husband and then I saw it, the choker with the medallion. He laid it reverently on the desk in front of him.

"Wait ... you think I might be her?" I asked dumbfounded. "How could that be? I'm not of the tribe. How can a white, blonde, blue-eyed woman possibly be the representation of Osuni in your tradition?"

Mrs. Okafor stood. She unfastened the exquisite, wrap-around dress she was wearing. She became naked instantly. Her black body was smooth and flawless. Her pussy was cleaned of hair and there was a faint image on the skin above her pussy, difficult to see on her deeply black skin.

"It turns out," she said as she came in front of me, "Osuni is associated with the color yellow," she touched my hair, "lightness and beauty," she touched my skin. She smiled and we kissed. It was not a light kiss but sensual and passionate. I found my arms around her as hers wound around me. Our breasts mashed together, our groins pressed together. "Her favorite number is said to be '5'." It was like we were in the room alone as our eyes drilled deep into each other. "I watched you in the guest lodge with those men. You were uninhibited, willing and eager, and wanton in pleasing them. I watched you on top of one man in your pussy, another behind you in your ass, another in front of you in your mouth, and two more beside you as you stroked them. Five men. I saw you ... I watched you with those five and another five ... I orgasmed watching. I knew."