At The Palace

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The Girl screamed. Her hands bound behind her back, she lay, face down, bent at the waist across the wide Iroko table. A rope, tied around her neck, and passed through a hole in the table top was tied to the rail underneath to provide her only restraint. Not that it was doing her any good. She had almost lost all of her skimpy servant's uniform, and the way the brute behind her was wielding the whip, it wouldn't be long before she lost the rest. No amount of waving her butt would bring relief, and she knew it now!

Sitting in his raised chair, Major Ibo Ngoro smiled softly to himself as he watched the girl pay for her refusal to fuck him on-demand. He would not put up with refusal, particularly since he now ran Gujanga's secret police. No-one other than President Mwanda himself had as much unconditional power.

"I see you have not lost your touch Ibo!" a deep brown voice intoned behind him, bringing him swiftly to attention.

"I assume you can afford this little diversion because all the necessary arrangements have been made for the Annual Ball. I don't want any screw-ups." This is the social highlight of the year.

"Indeed sir! All is prepared."

Then maybe I should sample your entertainment myself, Mwanda chuckled as he advanced on the hapless girl.


Comments

  • Anonymous said:
    2 years ago
    My wife used to wear suspenders my friends used to grope her when she was tipsy then some one would fuck her it turned me on