BDSM Library - Story: Kenyan Customs Nightmare, Chapter: Part 1

Kenyan Customs Nightmare

Shabbadew2002

Most of the people were black. The blonde woman and her husband were conspicuous as they waited in line in Customs at the Nairobi airport. She was attractive, dressed in a halter top and a short skirt.

“Your passports, please,” the man behind the desk said.

“What is the purpose of your visit,” he inquired?

“My wife and I are visiting colleagues.”

The officer examined their passports as they waited for their luggage. The phone rang and the official behind the desk picked up the telephone. A few minutes later a man appeared dressed in a rumpled black suit. He was older, paunchy and was sweaty profusely.

“Come with me please,” this official said to the couple, showing them a badge. He was a Senior Customs official.

He led them into an “interrogation room” and sat them down in two chairs facing a desk. He began an interview.

“Is there a problem,” the husband queried, after a few routine questions had been asked?

“Are you expecting any,” the Senior Official asked?

“No…not at all,” the man answered.

The man and his wife were Brits from London.

“Wait here,” the Senior Official said to them and left.

“What's going on,” the woman asked, reaching out to touch her husband’s arm?

“Oh, don't worry. It will be alright, you'll see,” said her husband reassuringly.

A few minutes later the man came back, only this time he had four uniformed customs officers with him and the couple’s luggage. Opening the first case in front of them, the Senior Official rifled through the wife’s belongings. He held up her lingerie. All four uniformed officers grinned; and the woman blushed. Then he discovered her vibrator and held it up with a questioning look on his face.

“Why are you doing this,” the husband asked indignantly?

The official told the husband to, ‘please be quiet’. When he refused, the Senior Official motioned to two men in uniform who came over and roughly pulled the man’s arms behind him and cuffed his wrists.

“OK, OK, just tell me what's going on,” said the husband.

“I told you to restrain yourself, but you are not cooperating, “So….”

Before the husband could utter another word one of the uniforms grabbed him by the trapezius muscle in his shoulder and pinched it hard. He used his thumb and index finger and had very strong hands. By compressing the nerve, he made the husband writhe and squirm in agony. The Senior Customs man then went through the husband’s luggage. There, he discovered a box of DVDs. The covers showed they were pornographic. He made a clucking sound with his tongue on the roof of his mouth.

“Tourists are not allowed to bring obscene materials like this to Kenya,” the Senior Official said to him finally. “We don’t allow this sort of filth here.”

“This is our personal property,” the husband explained.

“Nevertheless, the sex toy and the pornographic videos are restricted material. This is a very serious matter. Our country’s website clearly advises visitors from other countries to obey our rules in this regard. Obviously, you and your wife chose to disregard this. I am sure you are sophisticated travelers and research any country you visit. You should have known,” he said disapprovingly.

The wife was very embarrassed. Between the display of her panties and bras and the discovery of the vibrator and the DVDs, her face was red. The uniforms were grinning at her discomfort and whispering among themselves. It had become a humiliating scene.

The Senior Official motioned to the uniforms to step back. He then turned to the couple.

“I’m going to have to report this to my superiors.”

“What will happen,” asked the husband?

“You may be asked to leave the country. But, there may be an investigation. You mentioned colleagues.”

“Our colleagues at the University… they have absolutely nothing to do with this,” the man protested.

“That determination of that is not up to me. Many visitors from Europe and Asia try to import pornography in our country, since it’s illegal here,” he said as he poked the DVDs and the vibrator disdainfully with his finger. “These may be sales samples, for all we know….”

“I assure you that these are for our personal use,” the husband said.

“I see,” said the Official, smiling now as the man was admitting that he and his wife were “perverts”.

“How long would an investigation take,” the wife then asked somewhat timidly. It was the first time she’d spoken.

“It could take several weeks. But if charges were brought.... then your stay here would be considerably longer.”

“Oh, God, Rodger, what are we going to do,” the wife asked her husband in a panic?

He tried to keep his composure.

“Well, we’ll want to notify the British Embassy,” he said evenly.

“Oh….you’ll be allowed when it’s appropriate,” the Senior Official said smugly.

Actually, he intended to keep the couple waiting. It was part of his larger plan. He was thoroughly corrupt and had been under investigation by the Kenyan Anti-Corruption Commission for soliciting bribes and abusing tourists in his capacity as a supervisor. He had been accused of mistreating an American couple.... the same “offense” only six months earlier. After giving them the runaround and scaring the poor man and his wife, he and his cadre of corrupt customs officers subjected them to various indignities and then forced them into submitting to various sex acts.

They gave the couple their “undivided attention” for two whole days. In the end, the pair from Indianapolis were so traumatized that they separated two months after they returned to the States. The whole sordid episode was captured on video (with the customs official’s faces obscured, of course) and the Senior Official enjoyed a small financial windfall when he sold copies of the DVD to Chinese exporters in Nairobi.

At this moment, he was sizing up Roger and his lovely 36 year old wife, Emily. Seeing how vulnerable they might be to his machinations. The husband was struggling manfully, but his wife was showing nervousness and fear. What followed next was part of the game. He would shuffle the couple around to different offices to “process” their case. First was a lengthier interview with a clerk taking everything down on paper. Next, they were fingerprinted and photographed. Their frustration and distress mounted at each stage. The transcribed interview, the fingerprinting and photos took three hours.

Strip Searched

Following all that, they were subjected to a humiliating “strip search”. They both objected vigorously, but in the end, threatened with being forcibly disrobed by the four uniformed guards, they had to stand and take their clothes off. Their dignity took a huge hit.

They were brought to another small room - hot and airless. As the Senior Customs Official and his four goons watched, the couple had to strip. They couldn’t look at each other. Roger tried to do it quickly and get it over with. His wife disrobed more slowly. As they removed an article of clothing, they had to hand it to a guard, who then examined the garment. When the woman handed the guard her bra and her panties, it was very shaming.

He examined the cups of her bra and chuckling and turning to his comrade behind him, made a comment. Then he did the same thing with her panties - examining the crotch carefully and holding it up so that his comrade could see. Emily’s face was flaming red. She was instructed to hold up her breasts so that the Senior Customs Official could see if she was concealing anything underneath her ample tits.

Just then a woman entered the room. She was wearing a uniform; she was older and heavyset. She exchanged words with the Senior Customs Official in Swahili and began to pull on a pair of latex gloves. It was time for the next indignity to be forced on the hapless British couple. Sweating and blushing both were made to bend over and rest their upper bodies on the table.

“Spread your legs open wide,” the Senior Customs Official said to them. “Wider,” he added brusquely.

Both husband and wife shuffled their feet to comply with his order. They exchanged glances and a look of mutual embarrassment passed between them. This was proving to be something they hadn’t counted on.

The black woman, from the Luo tribe, was named Ambala. She was widowed and 45. And while she found most of her duties boring, getting the opportunity to humiliate mzungus (whites) made her job a delight. Howard Owiti, the Senior Customs Official, liked to have her perform “cavity searches” because she knew how to do it in a way that made many of her victims experience sexual arousal during the exam. Having these two white fools bent over a table with their private holes shamefully exposed was deeply satisfying, but when Ambala went to work on them ….this promised more fun for Owiti and the guards.

Roger protested being forced to strip in front of all the men in the room, but was intimidated into silence fairly quick. Already, Owiti had subjected the couple to a routine that slowly, but surely, was turning them into pliable puppets. Ambala took out a jar of mentholated ointment and proceeded to grease up the index and second finger of her right hand.

She got behind Roger and told him, “Pull your cheeks apart.”

Humiliated, he had to do as he was told. She then began to lubricate his anus. He found, much to his dismay that his asshole clenched involuntarily as she began to rub the ointment all over his shithole. She then worked her index finger in, stretching first the outer sphincter and then the inner ring of muscle. He grunted with each violation. He lowered his face so that he was cradling it between his upper arms. In truth, he wanted to hide.

Emily was looking down, but as Ambala began to penetrate her husband, she turned to watch the degrading proceedings. Roger began to groan softly as Ambala worked her finger deeper. When she found his prostate, she began to pat and then press on the walnut sized organ. She turned to Owiti and murmured something in Swahili to the effect that while she wasn’t finding any contraband, she had discovered he had a nice sensitive prostate. Owiti said something out loud at this and the guards began chuckling. Roger’s face got redder.

As she palpated his prostate, Roger began to groan. He was deeply shamed by the whole scene and when she began to play with it, he realized much to his horror, that his prick was starting to react. He tried to will himself not to feel anything, but try as he might, he couldn’t do it. He snuck a peek between his legs to see - and his prick was stiffening, much to his humiliation. ‘Oh God,’ he thought to himself, ‘please don’t let me get a ‘stiffie’ now!’

“You must relax,” Ambala said to him at one point, “otherwise I can’t complete the exam.”

Roger grunted and when she worked her middle finger into his hole, he let out a loud groan. She stretched his tight hole open more and then using her two fingers began to really let him have it. When she rubbed his vulnerable prostate with two fingers, his prick began to throb and twitch - growing stiffer. Soon, a delicate bead of pre-cum appeared at the tip, shaming him even more. The mentholated ointment had begun to burn a bit and this added to his discomfort.

“That’s it - relax,” Ambala purred at him, eliciting a smile from Owiti and the guards.

She slid her fingers out and then said to him, “OK, now stand up and turn around.”

He wanted to die. He knew that his prick would be on full display that way and hated the idea, but he had no choice.

“Put your hands behind your head, please,” she ordered him.

She then proceeded to take his prick in hand and pushed back his foreskin to examine under the prepuce for contraband. She told him what she was doing, but it didn’t make it any easier for him. Emily, twisting her head to look, saw the woman work some of the mentholated ointment all around the head of his prick and then frig it - pulling and pushing the foreskin back and forth. It didn’t take much, and Roger, groaning and wincing, began to ejaculate. Emily’s eyes went wide as her husband, with everyone watching, came like a little boy! The guards laughed and mocked him for losing control as Roger, grunted and flushed with embarrassment.

Now that she was done with him, Ambala turned to Owiti and said, “OK, he’s clean.”

By then the damage was done, and Roger was thoroughly shamed. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, but gratefully took a wad of tissues offered by Ambala to clean up. Owiti told him to take a seat.

“Very few men lose control when they are searched. You should be ashamed. Sit down,” Owiti said to him contemptuously.

Now, he would watch as the middle-aged Luo woman “examined” his wife. No sooner had Roger sat down then the mentholated ointment really began to burn. Roger stood up and began hopping first on one foot and then on the other. He asked for something to alleviate the sensation, and Owiti handed him the box of tissues, as if to say, ‘well, wipe yourself with this. In the meantime, we’re all enjoying your extreme loss of face, British.’

Roger ran over to the far wall and turning himself away from the group, he tried to wipe his asshole, crack and under his foreskin. Some of the stuff was inside his rectum and there wasn’t anything he could do about that. He tried to sit down again, concealing his now limp prick, but the burning sensation had turned into a virulent itching in his asshole and on the head of his prick. He found he couldn’t sit still. He made a comic sight now as he kept getting up and down to hop on one foot or the other. Some of the guards chuckled at his dilemma. Ambala now turned her attention to Emily, who gulped and grimaced facing a similar ordeal.

Ambala stripped off the soiled glove and pulled on a fresh one. She lubricated two fingers and her thumb. Then she went to work on Emily. She worked one and then two fingers into the pretty blonde’s pussy and rummaged around for her G-Spot. When she found it, she began palpating the bumpy patch and soon made it swell. All of this was ostensibly an exam to see if she was hiding “contraband”. She soon had Emily moaning and then groaning as she was more submissive than her husband and had already been involuntarily aroused by what the woman had done to Roger.

Ambala worked on her until she was sure that she would cum and then she forced her two fingers in deeper to examine the deep pocket above her cervix. Emily whimpered and the groaned as this was a very sensitive spot for her. When Ambala had plumbed her depths for another moment and then switched back to her G-Spot, Emily began to pant and then squeal as a burst of juice shot from her urethra. Ambala continued to work on her and turned the blonde into a “hand puppet”. When she went back to rubbing and pressing on her urethral sponge and G-Spot, Emily began spurting like a fountain, much to her dismay.

Emily went, “Oh…oh…oh…OH..OH..OHHHHHHH,” as she came! Finally, Ambala lubricated her anus with a fresh dab of ointment and worked a finger into her rectum. She thoroughly worked it into her nether passage and made Emily pant, squirm and groan with the intrusion. Finally, she pulled her finger out.

“She’s clean too,” she announced to Owiti.

When Emily was allowed to stand, she was greeted by the smiling faces of the four guards, who had thoroughly enjoyed her “performance”. She couldn’t help noticing that all four men sported bulges in their trousers. She was completely humbled and chastened. It was then that she really felt the burning sensations. She grabbed her crotch and moaned softly; then began to hop up and down, and this made her titties bob and jiggle. The men began laughing and joking. She was a comic and an erotic sight. It was shaming and humiliating to be forced, when you are naked, to be made to hop around like a clown.

“Look, they’re both dancing now,” one of them said to his comrades, prompting laughter.

The Interview

Eventually, they were allowed to go to the toilet. They splashed on cold water to relieve the burning and itching, but without an antidote, there was no real relief. They had to wait another 15 minutes for the sensations to subside.

“God, these men are monsters,” Emily said to her husband, trying to wipe her pussy and asshole.

“I fear we’ve fallen into the hands of a man who has no scruples,” Roger said, agreeing with his wife.

After they had dressed, Owiti supervised their next move. He had the guards take them to an office. There they sat chagrined - awaiting the next indignity. Owiti came back a moment later, carrying a box, and with both guards standing by the door, began to answer their questions. Roger asked when they could talk to the British Embassy.

“I am so sorry, but it seems that your “paperwork” has been misplaced. I am trying to locate it. In the meantime, I must hold you in custody until this whole matter can be cleared up,” Owiti said trying to sound reasonable. “I do have a few more questions.”

He poured some water into two glasses and offered it to the couple. They were thirsty and drank. When they were done, they placed the glasses on the desk.

“You should have more,” Owiti said, filling Emily’s glass again.

“That’s fine, I’ve had enough,” she said.

“Oh, no….I insist. After a cavity search and new to our tropical heat, you must drink. SO, DRINK,” he commanded her.

It was a sadistic ploy to dominate her. He made her drink two more glasses of water. She didn’t want to, but he pressured her despite her and her husband’s objections. Forcing her to consume what she didn’t want to drink was a technique of small domination. When she was done, she had been compelled to down a liter of warm water. Her belly was full and she felt pressure in her abdomen.

She would soon need to urinate and he would make her wait like a child for the privilege to relieve herself. The end result: she knew now, more than ever, that Owiti was a cruel man who derived pleasure from humiliating women. She had never been around a man like him. He was perhaps her age….perhaps a bit older; a medium tall man with a heavy build and a big stomach. He exuded a primitive, ruthless authority.

Owiti had the box containing Emily’s dildo and the DVDs. He held up the dildo, and it was a fairly realistic representation of a large phallus, perhaps 21 centimeters in length with a small motor situated in the base. The Senior Customs Official riffled through the box, holding up the various discs. The covers had titles like, “Slut Wife Fucks his Friends” and such. There was one disc that featured “caning” and then there were two which didn’t have a cover. Suspecting that

these were personal, Owiti removed one from its case and came around to pop it into the drive on the computer sitting on the desk.

He opened the disc. He grinned as it showed Emily naked in front of two men in a living room. Roger was seated in plain sight with an erection. The two men on the video were working Emily over pretty good…..feeling her up, fingering her, calling her a “slut” and then bending her over to take turns fucking her “doggy style”.

He spun the monitor around and asked, “Well, is this you?”

Both husband and wife went pale as their “swapping” was on full display in this grubby official’s office in the bowels of the Nairobi airport.

“Is this how you conduct yourselves when you are home in Great Britain,” he asked them?

Finally Roger sputtered that it was a private party; and he and his wife were consenting adults and all that.

Owiti, his brow furrowed, said, “Well, to us uneducated Africans, this is just pornography. And the fact that you are the performers in a pornographic tape compounds your problems. Did you come to Kenya to sample the virile black men,” Mrs. Sheffield,” he asked Emily?

She looked at the floor, blushing and said nothing.

“How could you permit your wife to behave like a slut in front of you,” he asked Roger? “Is this proper behavior in your country,” he asked them, acting as incredulous and indignant as he could?

As he said this, on screen, Roger could be seen furiously jerking off as a large white man with a nice fat cock was fucking the shit out of his wife. Emily could be seen writhing, moaning - and then was heard crying out as she came like a whore. Emily hung her head in shame, and then put her hands over her face. She wanted to vanish into thin air at that point. Roger was thoroughly cowed now too. This “personal” evidence was not going to help their case. He was getting desperate, and knowing the Kenyan reputation for bribery, he tried a ploy.

“Look,” he said. “I know these things can be time-consuming and expensive. Is there anything I can do to help you expedite this matter?”

“Hmmmm,” said Owiti, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Are you offering some remuneration?”

“Well…..I just wanted to know if there was anything I could do,” said Roger, treading carefully now.

“Well, I’m not sure what you’re saying. Could you speak more plainly,” asked Owiti?

“Well – what will it cost to make this go away,” asked Roger, now coming clean.

“Are you offering me a bribe,” asked Owiti, trying to seem approachable?

“Well, YES.”

“How much are you offering?”

“Let’s say…oh…uh....625 British pounds.”

“Kibwe,” Owiti said, addressing one of the guards, an older man, and “note that Mr. Sheffield has offered me a bribe. You’re a witness.”

Turning back to Roger, he said, “I have been taping this conversation Mr. Sheffield. Let me tell you that you are in real trouble now. You may assume that Kenyans are all poor and susceptible to bribes, but I can assure you that some of us do not stoop to such things. As I said, you’ve only added bribery to your other problem. This makes you look very guilty indeed.”

Roger groaned. He’d been led into a trap. Emily looked stricken. They both realized now that they were treading in deep water without a life preserver.

The Quonset hut

Owiti then had them taken by lorry to a remote Quonset hut just outside the airport. They were deposited into a small airless room and after sitting in this hot box for several hours, they were really stressed. They were both feeling claustrophobic and frightened. There were two chairs, two cots, and a bucket in the room. They sat there, sweating, and felt sick…. They were wearing their original clothes they’d worn on the plane and now they looked and felt the worse for wear.

About thirty minutes later, the door opened and a guard gave them two pillows covered by a fairly clean case and thin, gray, cotton blankets. They were left there for another two hours to contemplate their fate. At dusk, someone came around with plates containing a stew of kale, spinach, cabbage, beans, potatoes and a few bits of goat meat, a common meal in Kenya called Sukuma Wiki and Ugali - a semi-hard cake made from millet flour. They were there seemingly for the night. But, this wasn’t Owiti’s plan. He showed up later with all four guards. With a grin showing lots of white teeth, he came into the room. Roger knew that something was up.

“How badly do you want this problem go away,” he asked the couple?

There followed some banter back and forth, but in the end, the couple realized what Owiti was proposing was that, since they were already “perverts”, letting he and his men use Emily sexually could buy their freedom. Roger grew upset. Emily got quiet. After a few moments, Roger looked at his wife, then turned to the Senior Customs Official and told him, ‘definitely not’.

Owiti shrugged and said, “The material I confiscated will probably get you tried for smuggling. And the bribe attempt I recorded will only add to your problems. I don’t know what you’re hoping will save you, but cooperating with me will solve all your problems. Besides,” he said turning to Emily, “your wife has already proven she’s a whore. I’ve seen her perform on tape…There’s no doubt she’s a complete slut,” he said gleefully, “and you’re a cuckold too,” he said to Roger with a laugh.

Emily winced at this and turned away. Roger hung his head. There wasn’t anything he could say or do.

“Tell me you want us to fuck your wife, mzungu,” Owiti said next. “Tell me you want us to fuck her. Then your troubles will start to melt away.….”

He browbeat them both until finally, gulping hard; Roger turned away from his wife and in a small voice said, “I don’t want that….”

As he stammered and stuttered, it was obvious his resolve was crumbling. So, Owiti motioned to two of the guards who came over and took Emily by her elbows and escorted her out of the room. Owiti left Roger in the room with a guard and then left also. They took Emily to another part of the hut. There, behind a partition, there was table and chairs, a bunk, a gynecological exam table and a cabinet. Owiti grabbed her and began squeezing her left breast. He did that and then played with the nipple. She stood with her eyes shut tight as he continued his molestation in front of the three smirking guards.

“Take off your blouse and bra.”

She saw no alternative but to do as he said. Very quickly, her tits were on display. They were very nice, perky with bright reddish-brown nipples. With nothing to stop him Owiti grabbed both tits, squeezed them and then pulled on her nipples causing her to squirm in discomfort. Next, he told her to take off her skirt. She became somewhat resistive, and that’s when he slapped her. In the airless, there was a groan from Roger as he listened to what was going on.

She took off her skirt. Owiti then felt her cunt through her panties, cupping and squeezing it roughly and pushing his fingers into her slit. This forced the material of her panties to disappear in her crack. As he played with her cunt, one of the guards came over and played with her bare tits, all the time joking in Swahili with his comrades and laughing at her discomfort.

“Now bend over. Put your hands on the bunk.”

She felt his eyes watching her bare ass as she bent down to obey him. He walked around and admired her bottom with the thin silk panties cupping her round cheeks. He grabbed her by the ear and yanked her head around like she was a disobedient child. Then he let her go.

He said, “Tell me you’re a slut. If you don’t, I’m going to do things to you you’ve never imagined.”

She was dressed now in nothing but her shoes and her skimpy panties and bending over she felt very vulnerable. When she didn’t say it, he slapped her hard on her butt. She was growing more compliant with each passing minute and finally gave in….

“I….I…I’m…I’m a slut,” she said, finally.

Her husband strained to listen. He was intent on what they might be doing to her and that he wasn’t able to see. And he discovered, much to his shame, that he was becoming aroused by what was happening….

Owiti then yanked her panties down and forced her legs open wide exposing her hairy pussy with its pink pussy lips as well as her pinkish-brown anus. All four men’s attention was on Emily, now exposed for their enjoyment. The Senior Official then turned to Kibwe, the senior man, and gave him the go-ahead to play with her. He began feeling and then fingering her cunt, forcing one and then two fingers inside her. She squealed as another guard came over, stood beside her and began mauling her tits. He squeezed them roughly and began pinching and pulling on her nipples. Roger listened closely…trying to picture what was going on. He was quietly going crazy.

“You’re going to do everything I tell you to,” Owiti said to her, obviously enjoying her discomfort and laying down the “law”.

Roger felt butterflies in his stomach as he strained to hear. When he began to get up, the guard told him that he had better stay in his chair, ‘or else’. He could hear the men laughing and joking in Swahili and then there was the sound of someone being slapped, followed by a little girl weeping. The man who had been playing with Emily’s tits, a tall, lanky, young, black man, barely out of his teens, named Matata, got by her head, dropped his trousers and pulled his big black cock out, so that it bobbed up and down, close to her face. Without any thought for her, he forced his cock into her mouth. Kibwe took his fingers out of her cunt. Matata grinned and pushed Emily down to her knees.

Within a moment, he had her slobbering all over it. And in another moment, he was in almost balls deep. Holding her face in his big, black hands he rammed his powerful cock in and out like a piston, causing her to gag, choke, sputter and whimper at the violent invasion of her mouth. The other two guards got busy squeezing her tits and pinching her nipples while Owiti stood by, pulling his foreskin back and forth, exposing the smegma encrusted rim of the cock head. When Matata erupted in Emily’s mouth, he held her tightly making sure that she took his whole load. He came a lot and she gagged trying to swallow it all.

When Matata was finished, the other men slapped palms with him. Then Owiti kept her on her knees and forced his unwashed, musky-smelling cock into her mouth. But first, he made her clean it carefully. She found this to be very humiliating as he supervised her like a parent dealing with a child. She had to lick up the small, yellowish curds she found there and when she

missed some, he carefully guided her so that she complete the disgusting task. When he was fully erect, he too began to face-fuck her. She gagged and tried hard to avoid vomiting as he pushed the fat cock head all the way to the entrance to her throat. He had a largish cock, very fat it was….

Each time it reached that sensitive spot, Emily gagged and convulsively shook and shuddered. Soon, her saliva was flowing so heavily that it dripped down her chin and onto her tits. She was a sorry sight. Her mascara had smeared, her lipstick was a mess, her eyes were tearing and nose was running. Owiti didn’t care. He kept her at it until he began to grunt and his hips did a little obscene jig as he hosed and filled her mouth with a prodigious load. Emily gasped, gulped and swallowed, but there was too much and as she struggled for breath, his fat cock popped free and she took some on her face.

Roger, by this time, was in despair but could do nothing to help his wife. His frustration and excitement at being denied the opportunity to see what they were doing to her grew exponentially. He squirmed in his chair as he listened to each man taking a turn fucking her. They all came quickly. When it was over, she was breathing heavily, kneeling with her hands on her knees, with cum on her cheeks, chin and titties.

Owiti stood over her crowing at what he’d been able to do to her.

“I don't know what more you want…… just let us go,” Emily begged him.

“Sign this,” he said – pushing a sheet of paper towards her.

She read it silently, her lips moving and groaned.

“I can’t sign this,” she said.

“Sign and we’ll let you go,” Owiti said, his white teeth showing as he grinned.

Emily hugged herself and trembled.

“I can’t sign this,” she said, sadly.

“No,” said Owiti? “Then we’re gonna fuck you.”

With that, the cringing woman looked up to see the three guards advancing on her.

“Don't do make me do anything else, please,” she pleaded.

Owiti sneered at her. Two guards got her on the cot and spread her legs. Owiti came over and ran his hands all over her body.

“You’re gonna take everyone’s black cock, slut, and you’re gonna love it. Tell me you’re a whore or I’ll whip your ass,” he said, slapping her face.

“I…I’m a whore,” she said, her eyes filling with tears.

All the time, Owiti was grinning - enjoying her humiliation. Emily had gone submissive now and simply lay there obediently as he fingered her cunt. When she hesitated in saying what he wanted her to say, he pulled on her nipples cruelly. She soon became even more compliant. Owiti then had her husband brought over to stand next to his wife lying on the cot. Roger gulped and shuffled his feet, first looking at his wife and then looking away, embarrassed for both of them.

“Why are you doing this to us,” he asked plaintively?

“You’ve broken laws. You’re both perverts. Now you’re gonna do what I say or I’m going to do things to the both of you that you won’t believe.”

Roger, sweating, began to tremble slightly. He knew he was in a bind of monumental proportions. He wondered how far Owiti would go. He wouldn’t have to wait very long to find out.

“Tell me you want us to fuck your whore wife,” Owiti said with a snigger. “She’s already sucked our cocks and admitted she’s a whore.”

When Roger wouldn’t say, ‘yes’, Owiti had two guards strip him naked and stand him in front of his wife. Then he had them mount Emily on the gynecological table with her legs spread wide and strapped her down. This exposed her pussy and asshole completely. With her calves in the stirrups, she was on full sexual display. Matata, who had Emily suck his cock, first stepped up. He dropped his trousers and shorts and soon sported another prodigious erection.

“I want you to ask my men.... nicely.... to fuck your wife,” Owiti ordered Roger.

Again Roger refused. At this point the door opened and three new men appeared. One was older in his forties and two were barely out of their teens. The husband and wife found themselves in the hut now with eight black men.

“Oh, these are some friends of mine,” Owiti told Roger. “I asked them if they wanted to fuck a slut white woman. You can imagine what they said.”

Roger looked over to see the three grinning at him and then devouring his wife, now spread out like a chicken ready for slaughter. One of the men, at Owiti’s command, came over to Roger, naked and shivering with shame and twisted and pinned his arms behind his back. When he resisted another man hit him in the stomach.

They made him put his hands behind his head and watch. When he balked at saying what Owiti wanted him to say, one of them twisted his arm behind his back until he thought it would snap. Finally, Roger caved in.

“F….f…fuck her.”

“No….. Say, ‘please fuck my slutty wife’,” Owiti instructed him.

Humiliatingly, Roger had to recite it all, like a schoolboy. As Matata began working his cock into Emily’s tight, wet hole, she began whimpering and moaning. It slid in fairly easily thanks to her wet cunt. Roger, watching, with his hands behind his head, stared at the big, black dick stretching his wife’s sexhole and began to get an erection. He let out a little moan in shame and that made Emily look over at him. She saw he was getting an erection. A look of shame passed between husband and wife. His prick was soon erect watching his wife being sexually humiliated and abused. He was very ashamed that he was aroused in front of her and all these crude black men.

Matata began to really pile his long dong into Emily’s unprotected cunthole. As he picked up the pace and his powerful buttocks clenched on each in-stroke, Emily began to really feel it. He was rubbing her G-Spot on the way in and then he would reach the deep fornix all the way inside her sexhole. Each thrust worked her hard and any resistance or resolve to hold onto her dignity began to wear away.

‘NO,’ she mentally cried as the feelings grew, ‘Please God, please don't let me cum.’ Relentlessly Matata fucked her and relentlessly the feeling grew. She could hear loud moaning and suddenly realized she was making all the noise. The men fucking her heard it too, and laughing, yelled encouragement to Matata - who redoubled his efforts.

“I think she likes black dick,” Owiti said, loud enough for Roger to hear, as Matata rammed his cock in and out of her pussy hole.

‘Oh God, noooo, nooooo, oh please, don't let me cum,’ she thought to herself and then began wailing as an orgasm exploded through her pelvis. It started in her uterus and worked its way through her cunt before ending in her nipples, her clitoris and somewhere deep in her asshole. Wave after wave of hot, mind-bending sensation washed over her. The feeling was so overwhelming she couldn’t control herself and squealed and whimpered like a pig as she had a “wet” orgasm. Owiti had more humiliation in mind. When Matata was done, he made Roger say ‘thank you’ to the man for fucking his wife. Even more humiliating, Owiti made him clean his wife’s messy pussy with her own panties as it began drooling the heavy load of semen that had been deposited there.

As each man stepped up, Roger had to ask that man nicely to fuck his wife. And then he had to watch as this black man fucked his wife hard. Even the smallest dick was bigger than his and all of them were hard. Emily felt like she was having an out-of-body experience as each man fucked her. As a man built up a rhythm she felt the tingling of arousal building in her loins. She didn’t cum with each man, some came too quickly, but many orgasms followed, as one-by-one, men fucked her hard and deep and then emptied themselves into her.

After each man came in her cunt, she was made to lick his cock clean. She had to clean his dick of all the sticky semen and her secretions. As another man came in her open pussy, Roger had to thank that man and watch him step over to his wife’s face for her to clean his wet dick. Some of the men had a thick messy ring of stuff at the base of their cocks and Owiti made sure that Emily

cleaned each man thoroughly there. She found herself overwhelmed by the salty taste and thick, clotted textures of the mess on each of their cocks.

Each cock reamed her fully and then spurted loads of hot, creamy semen to fill her pussy. She felt helpless and humiliated, being used as a slut, but was aroused. During a particularly good fuck, she experienced a deep uterine orgasm that went all through her pelvis up to her breastbone and down her legs.

“OH….OHHHHH….OH GOD, OH GOD, OH GOD,” she cried out she had this earthquake-like orgasm.

When one man ejaculated, another took his place and Emily meekly accepted his cock in her cunt. At one point, there was a lull in the action and Owiti came over with a mirror to show Emily what her pussy looked like. Her thick, light brown pubic hair was wet and matted down with semen. Her labia had become so swollen that they looked like two slabs of salmon. Her clitoris was fully erect and out of its hood - a shiny, hot, pink peanut. And her vagina was dilated open and drooling a virtual river of pearly cum. There was semen splattered everywhere.

“This is a dirty, stinky cunt,” Owiti announced to her. “Say it. SAY - I HAVE THE PUSSY OF A WHORE. SAY IT,” he commanded her.

“I’m a whore. I....I have a whore’s pussy,” she said thickly.

Then Owiti made Roger come over and to degrade the both of them, Owiti made him jerk off on his wife’s face. It was a terrible shaming moment for both as Roger huffed, puffed, tugged and stroked himself until he spurted all over her mouth, cheeks and chin. Several of the men mocked the couple…and when Roger spurted his junk all over Emily’s face, they applauded. Owiti ordered her to suck her husband’s softening cock. She dutifully went to work and slurped and sucked him. For all his reluctance, Roger’s penis betrayed him. The sight, the sound and the smell of black men fucking the shit out of his wife was just too much for him.

Like before, she swallowed it all and licked her lips. Spent and humiliated, Roger could only watch as another man stepped up to fuck his wife. Again, he had to humbly ask the man to fuck her. And then he had to watch as she cried out and came again. Another man, suitable refreshed, replaced him at his wife's mouth and Emily came again as both her holes were filled to capacity. The eight men continued to fuck her mouth and pussy until they were all done. Emily had been drug down to the depths of depravity. But it seemed she didn't care. She lay there with her legs open, her thighs moving in and out, seemingly in another world as her pussy drooled cum. Her husband gaped at her wet, sloppy sexhole…splattered and running with semen and her own copious secretions.

As she lay on the table, Emily’s ass was lifted to meet Owiti’s swollen rod once again. Owiti took his place at her ass cheeks and spit saliva on his cock head and then on her tight, brownish-pink ass hole. Then he pressed on her anus until he’d forced his dick into her. She groaned as he worked it in all the way until his wiry pubic hairs were tickling her anus. Then he began to fuck her shithole with powerful strokes. She groaned as it felt very big to her. Adding more spit to the shaft, and scooping some of the semen drooling from her cunt, Owiti lubricated his dick so he could continue to ram it home until he was completely buried in her tight warm shithole on each stroke. He also made her say that she was a “shithole slut” too.

“SAY, I’M A SHITHOLE SLUT,” he spat at her.

“I….I’m a shithole slut,” she dutifully mumbled.

Men wandered in and out of the action. Taking a break to have a smoke or drink a beer. After the last man had taken his turn and Owiti had sodomized Emily, the Senior Customs Official pushed Roger over to her messy pussy and made him clean the junk from her cunt and asshole with his mouth. With most of the men watching him, Roger descended the dominance ladder to land at the very bottom; because during this degradation he got another erection. It was no good trying to pretend he wasn't aroused. Everyone, including his wife, could see his stiff prick.

Emily was humiliated because had cum all throughout the “gangbang”. After this, they threw the couple naked and exhausted into the small room together and locked them in for the night. When they had to piss or shit, they had to use the smelly bucket. It was a very long and sleepless night for Roger, but Emily collapsed and fell into a deep sleep after eating something and didn’t wake up for nine hours. She was truly exhausted.

Torture and Confession

The next day, Owiti returned with his four guards and demanded that they both sign a confession. They hemmed and hawed, but in the end... refused. Owiti, frustrated at not being able to make them jump through the hoop he designed, reached over and grabbed Emily’s ear between his calloused finger and thumb. A gleam filled his eyes. He shook her like a terrier with a rat in its maw.

He released her and said, “I have ways to make you, my dear. And if you don't, I won't stop until you do.”

He produced a thin cane.

“I’m gonna give you twenty lashes.”

He had Matata force her to her knees and hold her arms behind her back. Then he brought the cane down across the top of Emily's breasts. Her screams filled the room as the cane swished through the air, inflicting sharp pain. The intensity increased as he whipped her stomach, tits and nipples. The pain took her breath away, cutting her screams short.

“Sign and I’ll see to it that you’re released.”

Emily could barely say anything other than moan and groan. Owiti used the cane with great skill. Roger, held against the wall by Kibwe, could see the rising welts on the tops of her breasts. Tears soon filled her eyes and she could no longer see. Her tits felt like they were on fire. He whipped her methodically until he had given her twenty blows.

“Confess and I’ll stop,” he finally said to her.

“P…P…please,” she mumbled in a quavering voice.

“NO. OK, have it your way.”

He had Matata stand her up and then hold her so that she was bending at the waist. She felt everyone’s eyes on her bare ass.

“Ow,” she muttered softly as her arms brushed against her sore tits.

She heard the cane swish. Blazing pain, pure anguish, erupted on her butt each time the cane landed. Owiti, sweating profusely, proceeded to lay repeated strokes in a neat row on the ample loaves of her round cupcake buttocks. Emily's sobs could be heard between her moans. Harsh sobs and her whimpering and groaning mingled with the sound of the cane striking her flesh.

“That's twenty,” he said as he finished whipping the backs of her thighs.

“P….p….please…dear God…please…. no more…no more,” plead Emily.

But instead of stopping, he had Matata pick up one leg, exposing her sore pussy.

Emily flinched as his cane struck the tender flesh of her womanhood. Matata held onto her leg tightly as Owiti continued striking her most vulnerable places: whipping her inner thighs several times and then her sex lips and clitoris. Emily collapsed when Matata let go of her...her legs couldn't bear weight. She sank to her knees sobbing from the pain and clutching her hairy pussy. She then fell over on her side moaning. Owiti left her there…..

Roger begged to be allowed to go to her. Owiti refused. Roger then looked over and saw Ambala. The Luo woman had shown up and was standing in the doorway grinning…..Owiti next had two of the youngest guards force Roger into one of the chairs and pulled his hands through the slats to cuff his wrists. Then, directed by Owiti, they looped rope around each of his knees and pulled his legs up - exposing his crotch. The ropes were lashed to the arms of the chair so that his prick and nut sack were horribly exposed. Then, Owiti came over and nudged Emily with the toe of his shoe.

“Get up slut,” he barked at her.

Emily struggled and got herself sitting up. Owiti made her kneel and turned her face so that she could watch as Ambala came over and pulled Roger’s balls down low in his scrotum. The Luo woman then twisted them in his sack and grinning at Emily… began squeezing. Roger began moaning and then crying out.

“Emily, just sign the paper and Ambala will stop hurting your husband,” said Owiti.

Roger soon began screaming like a madman again and again as Ambala worked him over. She would squeeze his nut sack as hard as she could and alternated this with grinding a knuckle into one of his balls. He began panting and hyperventilating each time she stopped. Every time she squeezed, he screamed.

“OH….OH….OH GOD,” he cried out.

Emily began crying and blubbered to Owiti, “Please don’t hurt him. Hurt me instead. Please.”

Owiti’s response was to have his men bind Emily in a chair, the same way that her husband was trussed. Her crotch, with her vulnerable pussy and asshole, was completely on display. Ambala stopped what she was doing to Roger and came over brandishing a pair of pliers.

“OK, we’ll leave your husband alone. But you have to sign the confession or I’m going to have her work on your tender bits with the pliers,” Owiti said to her grinning and showing his two gold teeth.

Emily decided to try and endure what they were going to do to her. At least they had stopped hurting Roger. Emily closed her eyes and looked away, as Ambala took her right nipple in the jaws of the pliers and squeezed the handles. Next, she pulled on the nipple, stretching the teat out as far as it could go. Emily screamed. Following this, she added a sickening little twist ….ratcheting the pain to a higher level. Finally, she went to work on Emily’s other nipple. The guards stood around, grinning and joking amongst themselves. It was quite a sight. Watching a white woman being worked over was just about the best thing they could imagine.

Ambala turned her attention to Emily’s clitoris. She pushed back the hood covering Emily’s sensitive bud and teased the nubbin until it erected. Then she grabbed it between the jaws of the pliers and pinched, pulled and twisted it until she had the 36 year old British wife writhing and shrieking. Emily’s screams finally hit a “high C”. At that point, Owiti called a halt. He decided to have some more fun himself. He would give Emily some “electric encouragement”.

He had the guards pull Roger over, still bound in his chair, to face his wife in her chair. Then he pulled on heavy rubber gloves. Kibwe came over with a scuffed, old car battery, a box, and some cables. After carefully assembling the apparatus, Owiti placed the box right in front of Emily. Two long cables were connected to the box. Owiti held the ends in his hands. One had a small copper clamp on the end. The other cable had a rubber handle with a long copper prong mounted. He put the cables down and pointed to them.

“The one with the clamp is negative. I’ll put that on your big toe - on your right foot. The other thing…with the long rod….that’s positive. The battery is wired to the box. You see the dial.”

Emily saw the word “amps” under the numbers on the dial. The numbers started at “0”, then went to “20”. A knob below the dial had numbers from “1” to “10”. Emily's eyes watched as he set the pointer on the knob between “3” and “4”.

“I’m going to use the rod…and touch all your sensitive bits. You can use your imagination and see where the tip is going to go – can’t you? If you don’t want me to shock you, all you have to do is sign.”

Emily looked at him through fear-clouded eyes. She knew if either one of them signed the confession, their conviction on those charges would be a foregone conclusion. She knew she had to resist. She knew that if she gave in, Owiti would “own” them. The thought of that frightened her enormously. So, she had to “resist”, no matter what the cost…..

The fear in Emily's eyes, as she considered this new instrument of torture, was noticed by the Senior Customs Official. He grabbed the big toe on her right foot and placed the copper clamp on the fleshy pad. Emily watched the needle on the meter come alive. It hovered just above “4”. The he turned the dial up to “4”. He held up the prong and came closer and closer with it…threatening Emily with it…so that she didn’t know where it would apply it first.

But, he rubbed the prong on her tummy sending the first jolt of electricity through her. As he rubbed it all over her lower belly, then along her waist, Emily's muscles contacted violently each time, as the painful electrical current passed through her. Her muscles quivered uncontrollably when he pulled the prong back.

“OH....OHH... G...GOD,” she whimpered.

He brought it back and touched the big toe on her left foot. This made her writhe. Having the current run up one leg and down the other – through her crotch produced a plethora of sensations. She felt the pain at both points, but also felt strange feelings in her crotch at the same time. He did this to her three times, each time making her cry out and then groan. Somehow, in the hurricane of pain, there were feelings of arousal in her vagina and clitoris. It was weird and disturbing. Next, he touched her inner thigh just above her knee making Emily begin to twitch and shake. Then he pressed the prong deep into her navel causing the deep muscle contractions again in her midsection. Emily feared the prong. Each time he approached her; she squirmed in her bonds and began pleading. Owiti was really enjoying torturing her.

He then ran the prong teasingly under her right tit. Emily's screams filled the room as he repeatedly shocked both her welted breasts and nipples. He used a spray bottle and wet her tits so he could really shock her nipples. Her pinkish-red nipples were the size of an unshelled peanut, and when he used the prong on them several times, they swelled up like overripe strawberries. She began to plead with him again, fearing where he would shock her next. He wouldn't stop and she knew it. He adjusted the dial on the box to a position between “5” and “6”.

“This will give you a real jolt,” he told her sadistically.

Emily closed her tear filled eyes. Owiti slapped her to get her attention. He pointed to her husband.

“Look and see what all this is doing to your loving husband,” he said chuckling.

Amazingly, Roger’s prick was stiffening. Emily saw he was getting an erection watching her being tortured. She was surprised and shocked at this. But, Roger couldn’t help himself. As Owiti continued, his erection became very stiff and began throbbing. Soon, little drops of pre-cum could be seen beaded and then dripping at the tip. It was obvious that he was getting a “kick” from what Owiti was doing to his wife. Emily, meanwhile, was made to wait for what Owiti would do next. And her anxiety mounted as she waited for the next jolt. She now watched the prong in Owiti’s hand as if it were a cobra.

“Sign the paper Emily. This is how to make it stop.”

He let several moments pass. Then a searing bolt of pain shot through her loins as Owiti teasingly and then methodically rubbed the prong along her inner thighs where they met her butt cheeks. He would hold the prong away from her and then touch her with it again and again. She felt the current sear through the muscles in her butt when he amused himself by casually drawing little circles on the exposed part of her ass, which had been welted by the cane.

Emily began to get incoherent when he held the prong near her pussy. Unable to scream anymore, she whimpered, wept and blubbered as he sprayed her pussy with water and then ran the prong over the lips of her cunt. Her voice became choked as the electricity surged through her. But, there was more. He slowly slid the prong into her. The unbearable searing jolts streamed through her loins and belly as he tormented her labia and then her hole with an electric fucking.

He worked the tip against her G-Spot and the urethral sponge and as he fucked her with it, she spurted from her pee-hole and then when this eruption stopped, she began pissing like a cow in the field. Her juices and urine added to the conductivity of the electricity as he worked her most sensitive places with the cruel prong. Finally, he turned his attention to her shithole, which he had enjoyed sodomizing.

Emily felt the electric current shooting through her bowels as he wormed the prong through her sphincter and into her rectum. The sensations finally overwhelmed her completely as he pulled it out - then slid it back in, sodomizing her with it. It was at that point she passed out. He admired the tightness her pinkish-brown anus as he began pushing the prong into her again. He was a little disappointed when she became unconscious. He looked down at his watch. Roger’s prick continued to leak pre-cum as Owiti’s torture of his wife continued.

When she regained consciousness, and was again threatened with the prong in her pussy and asshole, Emily agreed to sign the confession. When Roger was threatened with the prong, he caved in too. Humiliatingly, both of them had to sign a paper that stated they were “perverts” and had smuggled the vibrator and the DVDs into the country to trade or sell. Now they were really caught in Owiti’s web.

The Video

The next day Owiti showed up with a video camera and some lights. He also had eighteen men in tow. They ranged in age from 15 to 44. Some were guards, some were friends and all were horny. Emily was made to strip for them and then she had to ‘suck some cock’. She was not allowed to get up until she had given each of the men her best oral attention. She had to kiss, lick, and suck them to completion, paying particular attention to their nut sacks. Only after their nuts were shiny with her saliva was she allowed to suck their cocks and make them ejaculate. They soon filled her mouth and she was made to swallow every drop. Roger had to kneel close by and “thank” each man for cumming in his wife’s mouth. Each man wore a mask and Owiti supervised the filming. He would have a terrific tape to sell when it was all over.

Then they strapped Emily to the gynecological table with her legs pinioned up against her tits, exposing her pussy and asshole. Roger was bound to a bench which had been placed under the table in a way that as each man stepped up to fuck his wife in her cunt or asshole, her crotch was about 15 centimeters (6 inches) above his face. Roger was strapped down to the bench and Emily was bound on the table but they faced in the opposite directions. When they were in place, Owiti positioned himself between the Emily’s legs so his cock and balls were right over Roger’s face. Roger could see, right in front of his eyes, Owiti’s dick enter his wife’s vagina.

The cuckold husband was forced to watch the action close-up. You can imagine what it was like when Owiti (and all the other men) ejaculated inside Emily’s pussy or asshole. Owiti didn’t insert himself right away so his largish black cock kept prodding Emily pussy until it found its own way in. Roger saw the dick pushing its way into Emily and her sex lips opening around it. Roger knew that when Owiti pulled out he would have to deal with the load of semen dripping from his wife’s hole.

Each man and boy took a turn penetrating her to the fullest; eventually filling her pussy and asshole with their semen. When it was over, she was exhausted. She had cum so many times that she passed out again. Roger had to do duty cleaning her sloppy sexhole when commanded by Owiti. When her pussy was so soiled and disgusting that no man wanted to fuck her, Owiti ordered Roger to clean her with mouth. It was an especially degrading moment for him. It was so nauseating that he had all to do not to vomit. And to add to his humiliation, Ambala knelt down and jerked him off as he cleaned his wife’s sloppy crotch.

At the end, Emily’s holes were spectacularly reddened and swollen. Her labia were twice their normal size and she oozed a virtual river of semen and her secretions. Her shithole had been stretched so that it resembled a ragged “O”. He gagged at the smell and taste, and red-faced and shamed, had to stay at the task until Owiti was satisfied. Eventually it was over. Emily couldn’t walk without help when she was released from the table. They left the naked couple in their airless little room. Emily awakened. It was dark and her cunt hurt. As her eyes tried to adjust to the darkness, she heard the sound nearby of someone breathing. It was Roger.

“Roger, wake up.” A dim light met his eyes as he opened them. Slowly she pushed herself to sit up.

“Roger,” she said again.

He rose to meet her. They kissed and held each other. They both gained strength from the familiar comfort of each other’s arms. Eventually, they were taken to a shower and allowed to clean themselves up. Afterwards, their clothes were returned and the abused couple was allowed to dress. Owiti released them. He told them that if they returned to Kenya, he held their confession and they could expect to be “detained” by him again.

“The next time, you won’t believe what I’ll do to you,” he promised. He wrote down a number and shoved the piece of paper at Emily with this warning, “if you really want to enter Hell, call this number and let us know when you’re coming back to Kenya.”

They were, of course, blown away by what had happened to them. It had been an incredible experience and it deeply affected them. Of course, they were a closeted submissive couple before that trip to Kenya, but Owiti and his crew were unlike anything they had experienced in the UK or on vacations to the continent. Emily enjoyed being dominated and Roger liked to watch his wife perform, but the vacation in Kenya was beyond anything in their experience.

Emily had also become pregnant as a result of her “vacation” in Kenya. She decided she wanted to keep the baby and prevailed over her husband’s objections. The couple had the baby - a black boy they named Jonathan to join their two daughters, Olivia aged 10 and Alice, aged 7. The embarrassment they felt when it was revealed to family and friends that Emily had given birth to a “black” child was harder on Roger, but it was difficult for both, to be sure.

Epilog

Six months after baby Jonathan was born and Emily was nursing, the couple booked a trip to Kenya. They had talked about it for months. Eventually, both husband and wife had come to accept what had happened to them - the tremendous sexual humiliation they had both experienced. Finally, after much discussion, Roger called the number and booked a flight.

(Read Sex Slaves of Kenya by Shabbadew2002 to see what happened to them.)