Marie's Submissive Year
Week 12.2 - Tuesday, Zimbabwe

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WARNING and DISCLAIMER: This story outlines the travels of a middle-aged wife who decided to spent a year exploring her long-repressed submissive side. Her husband and her best friend subject her to the worst kinds of depravities during a year-old international junket. If you don't like that kind of thing, please go read something else and don't leave feedback here about how horrible and disgusting the story is. It's fiction and it's supposed to be way out there. 
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	Two fat, naked men were laying on a dirty blanket in the middle of the big meeting room. The office was closed and the room was dark, except for the glow from a neon sign across the street and the occasional flash of  a pair of headlights. The lights glistened off their sweaty bellies and thighs. They were propped up on their elbows, watching a porno video on the big screen usually used for international meetings. Chuma, the bigger of the two, lifted his beer bottle and motioned for his friend Garal to do the same.
	"You going to cum again?" Garal asked. Chuma nodded. "Pretty soon." Garal flashed a big grin and clinked the bottom of the brown bottle of Zambezi against his friend's. They watched Marie's head as it bobbed slowly up and down, taking Chuma's long, thick cock deep in her throat. 
	Garal smiled at his friend. "She got it all in there, eh?"
	"Ev'ry fucking inch," Chuma said with a grin. He patted the top of Marie's head. Her nose was pressed against his belly, lips around the base of his cock. She held herself there for a second, then slowly started sliding upward again. It took her a long time, ten inches of cock was a lot to deal with. 
	"Mister!" Chuma called. John set down his can of Foster's and motioned to Lora, who was absent-mindedly sipping white wine and reading a magazine. Lora set the magazine down on the floor and crawled across the carpet to where Chuma was laying. She leaned down and pressed her mouth to Chuma's, her tongue snaking between his teeth and tickling the roof of his mouth. He moaned and wrapped his right arm around her, his hand sliding down her back to her ass. She opened her legs and let his finger slide up and down slowly between her cunt lips.
	"Thas good," he mumbled softly, then raised his head slightly. "Mister?"
	John crouched down beside his wife and turned to Chuma, "you close?"
	"Oh, yeah. I'm close."
	"You want the milkshake again?"
	"You know I do!"
	John nodded and got to his knees. He cupped his hands around Marie's head, leaned forward and kissed the back of her head. "Take a deep breath," he said. She murmured assent and opened her mouth around Chuma's cockhead, swallowed as much air as she could, then pushed herself down fast until his cock was buried deep in her throat and her lips were wrapped around the base. John slid his hands from around his wife's head to her neck. He started rubbing both sides quickly and Chuma hissed "yesss", then went back to kissing Lora's warm lips. John started vibrating his wife's neck around Chuma's shaft and Chuma started moaning. Marie slid her hand down between Chuma's legs and stroked his huge balls with her fingertips. Chuma's hips came up off the blanket and he grabbed Marie's head, pushed her face hard against his belly and unloaded his cum down her throat. He held her against him for a long time, moving his hips up and down slowly until he was completely drained. He grabbed a handful of Marie's hair and pulled her head up. She sucked air through her nose and mouth but only for a second before Garal grabbed her and replaced Chuma's cock with his own. Garal's cock was shorter but fatter. He liked Marie's lips up around the head though so she could breath through her nose while he fucked her face.
	"Come on, little American dog, lick me too," he laughed. Marie moved her tongue around the tip while her lips kept tight around the head. Chuma wiped his cock with a towel and picked up his beer bottle. He took another long drink, his eyes locked on Marie's hips and ass. He looked at John who just smiled and nodded his head. Chuma rubbed his cock with his hand, waiting for it to get stiff.
	"You know your friends were supposed to be here at eleven," Lora said.
	"They will come, they will come," Chuma said, waving her away with his hand. "You have some qat, you feel better."
	Lora shook her head. "No thanks." She'd seen the long term effects of qat, men and women walking the streets of Harare, glassy-eyed, trickles of green running down the sides of their mouth as they chewed the leaves, then their jerky motion as the stims took effect. She didn't know much about it besides that, but that was enough. They'd fed it to Marie once or twice since they arrived in Zimbabwe two days earlier. It was useful since they'd pimped her out for over forty of the fifty-some hours since they landed but she wasn't about to try it on herself.
	"You come kiss me, then. I want your friend's bung but Shona's tired." Lora smiled. She wasn't sure if Shona was Zimbabwean for "cock" but enough men had used the word it was either that or the equivalent of "John Thomas" back in the states. She slid her body alongside Chuma's, her legs rubbing against his, her hand sliding up and down his thigh. Their mouths pressed together again, him probing her this time. They listened to Marie slurping Garal's cock and Chuma was rock hard in just minutes.
	"Mister," Chuma said. John looked at him and nodded. He spit on his hand and then again on his two middle fingers then pushed them into his wife's ass. She moaned and got up on her knees, opening her legs. John motioned to Chuma, inviting him to fuck his wife's upraised bottom. Chuma moved into place quickly and shoved his ten inches deep into Marie's bowels. She responded by sucking Garal more eagerly, making loud slurping sounds, saliva gushing between her lips, her tongue lapping eagerly while Chuma plunged in and out, his hands around her waist, pulling her tight to him. She opened her mouth and screamed as her orgasm made her body jerk and twitch. Garal grabbed her hair and pushed his cock back into her mouth, watching her shake and shudder as Chuma worked her asshole hard. Garal started to cum and pulled her head back, rubbing his cock with his free hand and shooting gobs of warm jism all over Marie's face. Chuma went stiff and shot a small load deep inside Marie's ass, then pulled out of her with a wet "plop" sound. Garal pushed her toward him and she took Chuma's cock in her mouth, cleaning herself off of his dark, slimy snake meat.
	Garal pushed Marie away with his foot and she rolled over on her side, curled up across Chuma's legs. Her hand went between her legs and she stroked her cunt slowly with her fingers.
	"This one never stops, eh?" Garal laughed.
	"Never," Lora said. "Do you, cunt?"
	"I..." Maria started, but then stopped. She took her hand away from her crotch and lowered her head.
	"This one's a real whore," Lora said.
	"We see."
	"And not like the ones downtown, you know. She fucks because she has to. Her body craves it. Like your addicts out there." Lora got up and nudged Marie with her toe. "Isn't that true, whore?"
	"It...is true. I do," Marie whispered.
	"Louder, whore."
	"I need to be fucked."
	"Used."
	"I need to be used."
	"That's better," Lora said softly. She bent down and stroked Marie's hair. "And you will be. Very soon." She looked up at Garal. "Isn't that true?"
	Garal reached toward his pile of clothes, found his watch. "Yes, very soon." He looked to Chuma, he was nervous, they were late. He was afraid they would not get to keep fucking the plump white woman at his feet if his friends did not show up soon. He didn't want to lose that. Most of the white women who came to his town, on tours or to study or on vacation, were the anorexic white women popular in the magazines and on television. He and his friends did not care for that kind of woman, the kind who looked more like a boy than a girl. They wanted women like Marie. Big, soft women, fifty or sixty pounds overweight, with huge thighs, a fat, round belly, and full, drooping udders where their breasts should be. Marie's body was perfect. Her nipples were big and round and covered nearly a third of her titties. In Zimbabwe and other parts of Africa, the bigger the cookie the more attractive the woman. And Marie's were a rich, dark brown that contrasted with her the rest of her pale skin.
	
	There was a knock on the door and John got up to answer it. Seven men came in, all dressed in casual clothes and barefoot. Marie looked up and recognized two of them immediately. She shook her head and crawled backward across the floor toward Lora, leaving a trail of cum that glistened on the floor. "No, no, no..." she whispered, pressing her head against Lora's leg and reaching upward with her arms. 
	"Shhh...shhh..." Lora whispered, hugging Marie and stroking her hair. "A few more times and you will be used to it." She leaned forward and kissed the top of Marie's head, then gripped her upper arms firmly and looked up. "Tie her this time."
	Marie started to cry as the men picked her up and carried her out into the backyard and across the small compound into another building, into a room she had already started calling "the Pain Room". This was the twelfth week of their adventure, their eighth city and there had been a Pain Room in each of them. In Sutton and Dearborn, they had been informal -- an abandoned barn and a basement --  while in Buffalo the Pain Room was a specially built wing of one of the lesbian couple's mansions. The others were all somewhere in between.
	Within minutes, she was tied and gagged. This time, her hands were tied together in front of her and her legs bound with rough hemp rope at the knees and ankles. The rope around her ankles was secured to a stake buried in the ground. 	Lora and John came into the room a few minutes later.
	"Gentlemen," John said loudly, motioning with his arm, "my beautiful wife." He walked to her and reached his hand around behind her shoulder. He kissed her hard and she responded. Her hips moved forward and back as their tongues pressed and probed. John slid his hand between her legs and pushed his fingers into her pussy. He brought his hand away and held it in the air.
	"Wet," he said proudly. "Aroused and anxious."
	He stepped back and looked at her. She lowered her eyes, embarrassed and ashamed that they all knew.
	"Are you anxious because you know what they're about to do?"
	"No, no, no," she muttered softly, her voice shaking. "I can't take it, I can't take it, I can't take it..." She leaned her face forward, lifted her arms in front of her face so they couldn't see her.
	"Oh, that will never do," John said. He motioned and Kapomba - an older man who'd seen many things like this in his day - turned the handle that lowered the rope from the overhead pulley. Chuma - in his early twenties and with a cock that was already getting stiff again - tied the end of that rope around the ropes that held Marie's wrists, then knotted it and nodded to Kapomba. He began turning the crank again and Marie's arms were raised over her head.
	"Go on," Lora said, watching Marie's body stand straighter and taller. When she was standing on the tips of her toes, Lora held up her hand. 
	Marie shuddered and whispered, "thank you, thank you, thank you," softly.
	Lora ran her finger from Marie's chin down the front of her body until it was between her cunt lips. She rubbed Marie's clitoris in small circles. Marie's cheeks turned bright red, she still couldn't take being masturbated in front of a room full of strange men.
	"Open your eyes, pig," Lora said loudly.
	Marie did and saw the faces all staring at her, some of the eyes wide with surprise, some squinting with disapproval, some casual, many of them anxious and aroused. She turned her head but Lora grabbed her chin with her free hand and turned her to face the men again.
	"See? It's for them you're going to cum. For them your little flower is going to open and gush all over my hand."
	Tears came to Marie's eyes but her body was responding, hips moving, thighs struggling to open. The pain of the ropes around her knees was biting into her, her eyes saw red spots.
	"Come for them, you fucking little animal. You whore, you want their cocks but you have to cum for them first," Lora taunted her. Marie was breathing faster now, her chest heaving, mouth open. When Lora sense she was close, she stopped. "That's enough of that." Marie went limp, her knees bent slightly.
	"Ah, so there *is* some slack in the ropes," Lora laughed. She motioned and Kapomba turned the crank another turn. Marie's feet lifted of the ground and she moaned loudly.
	"Well, it's time to begin," Lora said, walking away and sitting in a chair near the door. Marie was shaking her head and moaning softly but nobody listened.
	The men lined up for their fifth ritual of kalaba. They'd described it to John and Lora over the internet months before and they'd immediately agreed that Marie would undergo kalaba twice a day as long as they were there. Marie didn't know it, she had no idea if this would be the last time or if they would move to three, five, twenty times a day. But it terrified her. And for good reason. 
	kalaba was a form of punishment reserved for the worst kind of offenders in one of the tribes that was the original home of many of the residents of Harare. Before the punishment started, each of them would have gone out earlier and found a thin cane rod or switch, about a meter long and no more than five millimeters around. Then, the first man in line would roll a pyramid-shaped stone with the numbers 1-4 painted on the sides. That number would determine the number of strokes each of them would administer to the offender.
	The one to be punished was tied standing and each of the men in the village would line up and have a turn at them. When it was their turn, each man would approach the woman, arouse her nipples with his tongue or fingers until he was satisfied with their length and stiffness, then stand to one side and flog each nipple the number of times indicated by the roll of the die. If the offender was a man, they would do the same but with his penis, his shona.
	The event often turned into a competition, with each of them taking a single turn, then rotating through the line. Each would try to elicit a more dramatic response from the victim than the last. They were allowed to target anywhere from the edge of the areola to the tip of the nipple, as long as the stroke was downward and none of the other men charged anyone with giving anything less than their best swing.
	The first time, John had made Marie kneel and he and Lora held her with arms open, each holding a wrist. They rolled a 3. She struggled but made it through the entire line of five men, three times each. The second time, there were seven men and they rolled a four. Lora made them stop after their third time through the line, afraid Marie would be damaged too severely to perform for them later. The third time, four men rolled a 1, which was almost a relief for Marie. The fourth time, six men rolled 2. The men complained that she struggled too much and it was making them distracted. So, tonight, she was tied in the traditional way.
	John reached out and the first man in line handed him his cane. He flexed it, swished it in the air. "Terrifying," he said. Marie trembled but didn't raise her eyes. He leaned forward and touched his wife's right nipple with his fingertip. It didn't respond. "Scared?" She nodded. He bent over and took it in his mouth, sucking gently, his tongue licking the underside of her big, saggy tit. He felt the nipple stiffen in his mouth and heard her moan, muttering "no..." He touched her left nipple with his finger and it stiffened right away. He rolled it gently between his fingers and she moaned again.
	"Nine men, dear. Nine men."
	He swished the cane again. She squeezed her eyes closed tight.
	"Go ahead and roll," he said to the first man in line. He rolled a four.
	John turned to Marie. "Do the math for me."
	She whispered something and he whacked her hard across the belly. The switch raised a bright red line at a diagonal just above her navel. "What did you say?"
	"Thirty...six," she said, then whimpered, "John, please...please..."
	"Good. Good. Bright girl," he said, ignoring her. He handed the man back his cane and went to stand beside Lora. "Shall we make her count?"
	"Or say thank you sir, may I please have another?" They both laughed, then John sat down in the chair beside Lora.
	"You can go ahead now," John announced.
	The first man stepped up and wrapped his mouth around Marie's left nipple, sucking it until it was stiff. Then, he stood back and raised his switch high above his head.