The Princess Steps Out (Part 3)

Introduction:
She awoke to a loud argument. Disoriented, she shook her head to clear the fuzzy
mist that surrounded her brain and clouded her eyes. One voice was especially
powerful; seething with unabashed anger. Her nakedness triggered her memory and
all the images of the last few hours came rushing back to her. She was a
prisoner of African terrorists – and she had willingly fucked two of her captors
ragged. She had seen two men brutally murdered – and she had slavishly sucked
the cocks of those responsible, swallowing their cum, rubbing it all over her
body like cream; revelling in her own perverse lusts and desires. She had
succumbed to the seductive lure of black-skinned Kaffirs – and she had loved
every perverted minute of it.
“Fool!” the angry voice shouted savagely. The exclamation was followed by a
sharp clap of thunder. Looking up she saw the Leader viciously snap his open
palm across Jumo’s face. She saw his bulging eyes and the corded veins in his
neck, and suddenly feared for the poor man’s life. His hand went up again,
poised to strike.
“No!” she screamed, jumping naked from the bed. “No! Don’t hit him again!”
The Leader looked at her, his eyes wide with surprise – and appreciation?
Frantic, she grabbed the first thing she could find to cover her body; Mantu’s
discarded shirt, and shrugged into it. It flapped around her knees as she ran to
Jumo’s side. The man with the Leader moved to intercept her but she ducked under
his arms. Something about him struck her as odd, but in her fear for Jumo’s
life, she discarded the thought.
“Stay out of this, Princess,” the Leader snarled from behind his ski-mask. “This
man has disobeyed my orders. You were not to be molested!” he shouted. “He and
his wormy friend must be punished!”
“You told them to make me comfortable, did you not?” she said, stepping close to
Jumo. She felt his trembling body and couldn’t believe his fear. She realized
that the Leader was an absolute King among these men and his word was law. His
maleness and power radiated to her and she felt the response deep in her loins.
“Yes,” he said, slowly and suspiciously.
“They did not do anything except what I wanted them to do.” she said defiantly.
It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was close enough.
“What are you saying, Princess? That you encouraged them? Willingly
participated? Be plain!” he demanded.
She opened the front of Mantu’s big shirt and, hands on hips, displayed her
naked body. Her nylons were wrinkled, her garter belt was cum stained in several
places and she was missing her shoes, but standing there before him, she saw his
eyes change and felt the power of her white body. Their fascination was just as
strong as hers, she thought. She tossed her head back in a regal gesture.
“Do you doubt my word?” It was an Imperial question delivered in a regal manner,
but inside she was churning. This big man excited her, stimulated her. And it
went beyond the ebony color of his skin.
His deep, rumbling laugh echoed through the loft. He pulled his ski-mask off
reveling his face. She was surprised to find him handsome in a rough manner,
with high cheekbones and sharply defined features. And his eyes – compelling
dark and sensual. She felt his laughing gaze all the way down to her toes, but
especially in her pussy, which had become very wet, very fast.
He stood close to her, his size massive and overpowering. “I am Chuka!” he said,
“That means King.”
His companion, the fourth man, made a biting commentary in their foreign tongue
and he answered angrily.
“Kunta does not like you,” he said softly. She believes Royalty should act like
Royalty and not like a common slut.”
She? The Princess snapped her head around as Kunta pulled off her ski-mask. That
was the oddity she had noted; “he” moved like a woman, not a man. Graceful and
fluid. Kunta was tall and had regal bearing – a queen to the Leader’s King, and
she was instantly jealous – and she had a strong, fully developed body, and was
surprisingly lovely, despite the disapproving scowl on her face.
“She also doesn’t think you’re as good as a Zulu woman, or any black woman, for
that matter.”
This time it was she who laughed. “Look at your men,Chuka. I wore them out!”
Kunta gave Jumo and Mantu a withering glance and they seem to shrivel before her
steely gaze. The Princess had never met a more formidable woman, not even the
Queen, herself, and she was surprised at her own physical reaction to this
compelling woman.
“So, the Royal Princess of Wales likes Kaffir cocks. You show good taste, Your
Highness, we are the best.” His finger traced the shape of her bare tit and she
shivered at his electric touch and a warm trickle of pussy-juice dribbled down
her inner thigh.
“But I think I should still punish these men.”
“Leave them be and you can have me,” she said.
“I could have you anytime I so desired, Princess. You are my prisoner. Or have
you forgotten?”
“Taking me is one thing, giving myself to you is another.” Her voice was low and
husky; seductive. But it was a ploy. Her body craved this man; wanted him to
drag her off and ravish her completely. She wanted to bare every opening of her
silky body to him and have his hard blackness fill her to the brim. But
something made her try to meet him on equal ground and she was confused by her
feeling.
Roughly, he pulled her body to him and forcefully thrust his pelvis up against
her soft flesh. His thickening cock rubbed against her belly and a hot surge of
passion filled her. Her legs went weak and her body trembled from his nearness.
She grabbed his strong arms for support, feeling the nipples of her tits raise
and harden as they rasped against the coarse material of his shirt.
“You will do what I demand to save their worthless lives? he asked; his voice
low and menacing.
Afraid that speech would fail her, she nodded her head slowly. Then, like a rag
doll he propelled her across the room, landing in a heap on the bed. To Kunta,
he spat out foreign commands and she answered angrily. But a sharp look from
Chuka silenced her immediately.
He has such power, such force, she thought. Oh, God, I want him so much. Oh,
Chuka, her mind screamed, fuck me! Fill my body with your big black cock! Use
me!
Engrossed in her own thoughts, she didn’t see Chuka whisper to Mantu, or take
notice of the video camera Jumo and Mantu set up.
Why doesn’t he move? she wondered. Confused, she followed his gaze. All the men
were looking at Kunta. She was undressing. The Princess’s eyes opened wide as
the big Zulu woman stripped off her clothes and bared her body. She was
beautiful! Glossy skin that shined like black marble, big, full tits, perfectly
round; a hard, almost muscular stomach, and long, long tapering legs. Her bush
was tightly tangled with thick, coarse hair; a perfect black triangle. She had
wide flaring hips and large ass-cheeks.
Regal!
The word jumped into her brain as she watched Kunta come towards her. Chuka had
set beside her, but she was too engrossed to noticed, and she jumped when he
spoke.
“It pleases me to be entertained. You and Kunta will perform for me. We will see
just how well you do against a Zulu woman. If you please me, these men will
live. If not, they will die. Do you understand, Princess?”
She looked at him in confusion, not knowing what was expected of her. Then her
head swiveled from his leering eyes to Kunta and back again, and the meaning of
his words became crystal clear. She gasped, and shook her head, unable to find
her voice.
“You want me to . . . want me to . . .” She choked on the words.
“Yes, Your Highness,” Chuka said, with an evil grin, “I do want you to!
“Look at her beauty,” he commanded, “her full ripe tits, big ass, her large
juicy pussy. Look at the color of her skin, how it gleams in the light. Think
what it would feel like beneath your hands; soft and smooth, like black
alabaster. Look at her cunt; the jungle of hair; think of your Royal tongue
sliding into it. Think of its’ black taste; feel her juices flowing down your
throat.”
Chuka ran his hands softly over her body, almost a whisper; stroking her
quivering thighs, and sensitive tits.
“Look at her, Princess,” he said. “Look and open yourself to her. Let her mound
rub against yours, let her play with your lovely titties.” His eyes glowing with
anticipation, Chuka put his lips against her ear. “Let her tongue drive you to
the stars,” he said.
In a trance, she could not take her eyes off of Kunta’s undulating movements;
her sinewy grace, the way her big tits rose and fell with her deep breathing.
Her dry throat burned, but she couldn’t swallow. She stared, wide-eyed; Chuka’s
hypnotic words playing on her brain, and she felt the fierce roar of fire-lust
erupt in her drenched cunt. Her chest heaved and she reached back to grab hold
of the bedstead, pulling herself up; almost into the same position she had been
in when Jumo first kindled the flame of coal-black lust.
The video camera recorded the heated expression on her face, and continued to
roll, but she wasn’t aware of it.
Kunta took Chuka’s place beside her and she cringed with fear and, she realized,
desire. The big, firm tits and the heavy thatch covering the hidden pussy had
turned her on; her hot cunt reacting the same as it would to a naked man. If
anything, the wild feelings were even more intense, more demanding, and,
suddenly shocked, she knew that she wanted to touch the big female Zulu; touch
her, and love her.
The aroma of Kunta’s sudden nearness was sharp and strong, but definitely
female. She turned her head away as the big woman leaned forward, but she could
not stop looking at the magnificent body in front of her. Hungrily, she licked
her lips. Then a strange thing happened. Kunta smiled, lighting her eyes with
the soft glow of passion.
“Do you like what you see, my Princess? Yes? My tits yearn for your touch,” she
said, cupping her large breasts and pushing them up to the Princess’s eyes. The
dark nipples were as big as a pinky-tip, and hard as marble. “My juicy love box
waits to entertain your pretty pink tongue.”
Kunta’s voice was like a warm caress on a cool night. She shivered. With tremors
running through her body, and the tingling of anticipation on her skin, she
slowly nodded. Kunta smiled her lovely smile, and drew her to her womanly body.
“Ooooh, yeeeessss!” she mewed, unaware of how loud her voice was, or how it
affected the men who watched from the darkness, or that her words were recorded
on tape.
She remembered gasping and trembling as Kunta’s lips searched out her own; the
electric touch, the strong hands kneading her sensitive tits, sending bolts of
white-hot lightening to her cunt and her fevered brain; their constant
exploration of her trembling body. She remembered the tongue, long and wet,
slipping into her moist mouth; her own dueling with the long, thick, loving
invader. It slithered down her neck to her tits, circling each nipple, tracing
the roundness of each shaking globe. Large, shapely lips sucked on the tender
tips, making her moan loudly with wicked pleasure.
Another woman – a black woman – was making love to her, and she was responding.
The image was beyond her wildest fantasy. She tugged at the silken scarfs,
pulling herself up, arching her body, giving Kunta access to her quivering
flesh.
“Oh, God, yes! Do that! Oh, it feels so good.”
Kunta’s wiggling tongue traced a wet trail between the valley of her tits, down
and around her belly and into the flaxen tangle of silky hair hiding the pink,
puffy lips of her juicy pussy. Powerful hands grabbed her behind the knees and
pushed her legs up high, spreading them apart. Her cunt gaped, the pussy-hair
glistening with the dewy secretions of her enflamed passions. Her eyes rolled to
the whites and her legs and arms and body went spastic when Kunta’s darting
tongue shot up her boiling pussy. The scream of passion filled the room and
reached out, like a hot hand, to the thick cocks of her black captors making
them twitch with envy and desire.
Chuka heard the words of desire coming from the Princess’s mouth and his
throbbing prick strained to free itself from the constraining pants. He heard
Jumo’s strangled voice extolling the virtue’s of the blonde, thirsting pussy;
its’ silky softness, its’ pink, succulent cunt-meat, its powerful gripping
muscles. He licked his lips and grabbed his hardened cock as a hot, fierce pain
in his balls made him gasp.
Yes, Princess, yes! he thought, show your lust, and your pleasure! Display it
for the world; show them how you love African blackness!
Her hips bucked up against Kunta’s sucking mouth, her tits heaved, and her face
contorted with pleasure-pain. Moaning with abandon, her head twisted from side
to side as Kunta’s wiggling tongue attacked the soft flesh of her flaming cunt.
Sizzling sparks of white-hot pleasure erupted in her brain and showered her body
with their burning brilliance. Through a haze of panting lust she saw Chuka,
naked, standing beside the bed, his eyes aglow, his black skin shiny with heated
passion. He was slowly stroking his gigantic black cock. Her eyes widened and
her breath rushed out of her mouth.
It was magnificent! The Father of all Cocks! Bigger and thicker than either
Jumo’s or Mantu’s; it looked like a huge, ebony tree limb growing, obscenely,
from his groin. The angry purple head with its’ snake-eye waved in front of her
hungry eyes. She licked her lips, in lust and blinding desire.
Kunta’s probing tongue had found its’ way up her tight asshole and she mewed
with new hunger. She saw the men – all of them – watching her; their faces tight
with lust, their cocks out of their pants, standing straight up, hard and stiff.
Her hips hammered at the nimble spear, and she squirmed her asshole around the
twisting pleasure-giver as a shiver of voyeuristic pleasure swept over her.
She was the reason for their lust! Her body was the reason for their desire!
They wanted to be entertained! She would give them their wish! She would give
them more than they ever bargained for!
Filled with a wanton desire to display herself, bare her willing body to all,
she pounced on Kunta, like a cat, pushing the surprised woman to her back.
Nimbly, she squirmed around and stuck her head between the strong, outstretched
legs, driving her tongue into the long, hot, pink slash of the wide open pussy.
The coarse pussy-hair scoured her cheeks and the heat of Kunta’s cunt poured
out, like a volcano, bathing her face in its’ tart aroma. Her tongue swirled in
the lava-like juice and she sucked it down her throat, savoring the special
taste. Cum juice smeared her cheeks.
And the camera captured it all!
She ran her tongue over the big, extended clit; wrapped her lips around it and
sucked it with all her might. Kunta’s screamed her passion, then drove her
tongue deep into her blonde-white hole, making her jump and squirm; her body
rippling with the tremors of exquisite, tiny cums.
Red-faced with exertion, the Princess of Wales snapped her head up. Brows
knitted; a fierce grimace on her face, she tried to scream but the sound stuck
in her throat. Kunta had roughly jammed her middle finger up her ass and her
thumb up her cunt. She could feel the wiggling fingers, separated only by a thin
membrane tissue, straining to touch.
Her hands grabbed Kunta’s thighs and she squeezed the flesh painfully, but the
powerful female Zulu did not let go. She stuck her finger up the woman’s burning
cunt. Then another, and another, and twisted them around, slicking them with
Kunta’s free-flowing juices. Black hips humped against her hand, thrusting up,
trying to prong her cunt on the sticky fingers; trying to quench the roaring
fire that raged in her body.
Blonde hair in disarray, her mind maddened with lust and fury, she shoved her
fingers deeper and heard the ragged, painful choke in Kunta’s throat. Enflamed,
she pulled her dripping hand out of the big woman’s cunt and, with the look of a
wild animal on her face, she, viciously, shoved her entire hand up the gaping,
black hole, twisting her wrist around until it ached, pushing upwards all the
time, until her entire fist was buried to the hilt!
“Aaaaaaah! Aaaaaah! I die!” Kunta screamed, hips bucking in a mad frenzy as her
cunt greased the Princess’s fist with cum-juice; tits heaving as her chest
sucked air deep into her burning lungs. Blinding slivers of pure white light
pierced her brain as the Princess Royal fist-fucked her cunt, making her cum
like a mad-woman.
She pushed the blonde hair from her face; her distinctive hair-do totally
destroyed. Her breathing was hoarse and ragged and her chest ached. Mesmerized,
she stared at her hand, embedded to the wrist in the throbbing black pussy. She
stared in exhausted fascination as Kunta’s hairy cunt slid up her wrist an inch
or two and then back down, finally coming to shivering stop. Slick cum-juice
smeared her skin and she could feel the juices slowly washing back over her palm
and fingers. Her cunt still burned with desire, but her mind registered a
triumph of pleasure.
She had bested the Zulu queen!
Sighing, she pulled her slippery hand out of the hot pussy and dropped beside
the panting woman, her head on her chest. Kunta’s big arm encircled her, coming
to rest on a perky, cherry-tipped tit. Gently, she caressed it.
“You are truly a Princess! A Queen worthy of a King,” she said in a low voice,
full of admiration. “My juices are still flowing,” she said with a small laugh.
“How does the Prince of Wales satisfy a woman such as you?” she asked.
She giggled. “He doesn’t! Today was the first time.” she said, her voice
becoming serious, “. . . with you and them! I’ve never felt this way before . .
. never knew the thrills that . . . their black cocks could give me. I’m almost
pleased that I was taken prisoner, or I would have never known. God,” she said
huskily, “I love big black cock!”
“Would that more of your people would think of us in a less bigoted manner.
Imagine the pleasures we could give one another.”
Chuka’s voice was hard and insistent. She didn’t know what he said, but Kunta
quickly leaped to her feet and fetched a canvas bag, extracting a bottle that
looked to be filled with oil.
She saw that his massive cock jutted out at an angle, waving from side to side;
its sheer weight unable to keep it straight up. Saliva filled her mouth,
excitement filled her eyes, and her cunt began to heat up again. Kunta smeared
the oily mixture on Chuka’s huge prick and balls, making them slick and shiny.
“Let me,” she said, running to Kunta’s side and kneeling in front of Chuka’s
straining prick. Her hands slid up the heavily ridged shaft and she felt it
vibrate under her fingers. Her mouth dropped in amazement. It was bigger than
she imagined; fully ten inches long and as thick as a club. She looked at Kunta
in disappointment, “I’ll never get this club up my cunt,” she wailed, “It’s
bigger than Jumo’s!”
Chuka laughed and his chest swelled in pride. “Jumo and Mantu have prepared you
for a King’s weapon, Princess,” Kunta said seriously, “And the oil will help
ease the way.”
“Enough of this woman talk,” Chuka snapped. “Prepare yourself, Your Highness,
your King has arrived!”
Trembling with want, she eased herself back into bed; taking in the looks of
anticipation and envy on Jumo’s and Mantu’s faces. The sight of their rigid
pricks sent chills up her spine, and her mind was filled with obscene images.
The camera recorded her smile and the graphic gesture her tongue made to each
man.
Chuka’s strong arms encircled her pulling her close; his hot cock, hard against
her tingling flesh. His lips were surprisingly soft and his kiss gentle. She
felt the vibrations in her dewy cunt as her arms went around his neck, and she
returned his kiss with all the passion and denied lust of her body. His tongue
entwined with hers, then darted down her throat; his hands captured her
quivering tits and his rough fingers pinched the steely-hard nipples and stirred
her blood to a boiling pitch. Her cunt squished with hot, creamy juice that
oozed out of her and slide down her thighs like melted butter.

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