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A submissive: Lost in the Jungle Part 2

Interracial Erotica / BDSM

By Amelia Stark

© Copyright Amelia Stark 2018

The right of Amelia Stark to be identified as the author of this book

has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 and 78 of the

Copyrights and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved.

Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this

work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic mechanical

or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including

xerography, photocopying, and recording, or in any information

storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission

of the author. All characters in this book are over the age of 18 and

have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no

relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names.

They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known

or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

First Smashwords edition 12-1-2018

Published by Amelia Stark

© Copyright Amelia Stark 2018

Registered with Copyright House on 09-01-2018

Amelia Stark Paperbacks

Are available on other platforms.


1. Joining the group.

2. ‘Tight and juicy’.

3. Another belt.

4. Confrontation in the dark.

5. A rollercoaster ride.

6. Battered and sore.

7. Cruel modification.

8. Driven hard.

9. Caged and dominated.

10. Sordid competition.

11. Pinned to the ground.

12. Vying for attention.

13. Filled to the brim.

14. Between two beams.

15. Hopes dashed.

16. On the move.

17. One door closes…

18. Difficult decision.

Also by the author

1. Joining the group.

I was relieved to be led away from the cages but knew that sometime in the future it would be my turn to be humiliated and forced to act like an animal. How long I could stave off the terrible experience remained to be seen, but I was going to try and behave myself and lie low.

The lieutenant held my upper arm as though he was afraid I’d run away. In fact, it was because he was a bully and took every opportunity to brutalize the female prisoners; and I was no exception. Wearing just a short smock and loose shorts, I was having to slowly jog to keep up with the long striding, tall Chadian officer.

He led me to the women’s section and over to a young soldier who was wandering among the female prisoners. A couple of groups were seated on the bare earth, while others were lined up, tin plate in hand, waiting to get their food.

The slim soldier stood to attention. “Corporal Oyono, this is the replacement for Romy. Her name is Asta…”

The young man studied my dishevelled appearance. “Where did she come from, Sir?”

“Lucy’s team brought her in. Another fucking tourist from the look of it. Hook her up with the transient group and hurry them along. I want this rabble locked up by eight o’clock.”

“Yes, Sir, I’ll take care of it.”

The lieutenant released my arm and walked away to speak to another soldier. The corporal wagged his finger in my face. “Everything the Lieutenant told you applies to me.” He tapped the handle of the flexi-baton hanging from his belt. “If you step out of line, I’ll thrash your dumbass. Got that?”. He also had a truncheon and pistol hanging from the other side, but thankfully no ‘bitch prod’.

“I will behave myself, Sir…”

He grabbed me by the throat. “I don’t need a fucking goby bitch on my team. ‘Yes sir’ is all I want to hear.”

“Yes, Sir,” I croaked.

“How old are you, bitch?”


His eyes lit up. Thankfully, he released my neck, but then pushed my shoulder. “Get in line for your food and then you can join that group.” He pointed to a group of four girls sitting on the ground.

The thing that struck me the most, as I waited in the queue of silent women, was that I didn’t look out of place. I guessed that I was younger than most of them, but my clothes, my filthy skin and my demeanour, matched the rest of the inmates.

Five women, probably in their late twenties, early thirties, were standing in a line behind a collapsible table, dishing out the food. There was plenty of rice, barbequed meat and fruit on the table and the women before me took as much as their small tin plates could carry. There were no utensils, so I had to pick up the meat and rice with my fingers under the intense gaze of five sullen women.

“Watch your step with Oyono,” the last woman whispered, as she handed me a banana and a ripe mango.

The corporal was hovering a few feet away, so she was taking a risk speaking to me. I followed him back to where four young white and black women were sitting cross-legged on the ground. They had formed a circle around a pile of chains and were sitting quietly, eating their food.

“Move,” he said, kicking one girl in the side of her butt. “Make some room for this wigger. She’s replacing Romy who’ll spend the night in the pens.”

Two girls moved and made enough room for me to sit down. The corporal wandered round the circle and then headed back to the food table. Four morose, blank faces gave me the once over and then returned to their food. I started eating, hoping I’d have enough time to finish my meal before something else happened.

The temperature had dropped into the eighties and the sun was flirting with the tops of the trees in the distance. The conditions were idyllic, reminiscent of a holiday I spent in Thailand. Even the food was on a par with the hotel where I was staying.

As I began chewing the first piece of meat, I closed my eyes and felt tears begin to flow down my cheeks. I was a broken woman and feeling bitterly sorry for myself.

“No point in crying bitch…” I opened my eyes to find the girl sitting next to me had spoken the soft words. She had a look of distain on her face.

“I can’t help it…”

“One day we all gonna die, girl, but today, we’re alive.”

I blinked at the girl, surprised by her thoughtful point.

“I don’t feel alive…” I muttered.

“You won’t get no pity from us, kid. We’ve all been through the pity stage. Now you’re in our group and if you don’t pull your weight, we’re gonna kick your butt until you do.”

I wiped away my tears and took a deep breath. “I’ll try my hardest…”

“Keep your voice down,” the girl on my left hissed. “The guards will stick the boot in if they hear us talking.”

We continued eating and took the opportunity to size each other up. Between mouthfuls of food, the black girl opposite me, on the right, introduced herself.

“My name’s Candida Ahanda, but everyone calls me, Candy. The guards have nicknames for us all, so we all use them now.”

The black girl sitting between us was called Fanny, changed from Funya. Janice was Jan and Sasha, Sash. I told them my real name, Kate Walker and the shortened version, Asta, and explained about my heritage. Being British seemed to resonate with the group and I felt the tension ease a little.

The others sat silently while Candy told me the way it was. “Every man in this camp is gonna want to drill your holes, girl; and most of em will, if’ you’re in here long enough. The officers are the meanest motherfuckers and the other soldiers are the most corrupt. When they’re not boning one of us, they’re selling our holes to the boys over there…” She hooked her thumb toward the male inmates.

“Do you mean the labourers?”

“They’re political prisoners, but lord it over us.”

I tugged on my filthy top. “Their shorts are in better nick than our gear.”

Candy chuckled. “That’s cos most of the men are from wealthy backgrounds and have money stashed away. The guards run a tab and collect at the weekend, when we’re all in the sties.”

“Sties… That’s an awful place to put us.”

“Have you seen the cages yet?”

I nodded. “Don’t they have people inspecting the prison?”

The girls laughed, but there was no mirth in their reaction.

Candy shook her head. “This place doesn’t exist as far as the outside world is concerned.”

“So why do they put us in the cages?”

“They can spare plenty of soldiers during the week, but they only man this inner prison with a skeleton staff at the weekends. There are only two, or three guards, so they put us in the sties, like animals in a fucking zoo.”

I gasped. “How long has this been going on?”

Candy shook her head. “Fuck knows, I’ve been her three months…”

“Oh, my god!”

Sash, on my left, leant closer. “I’m guessing you’re younger than any of us…”

“I’m nineteen…”

“Fuck, girl, what are you doing in these parts?”

“I was with a friend, Jasmine, whose family lives in Waza, in the national park…”

“Is she black?” Candy asked.

“Yes, but she escaped and is out there somewhere.”

All the girls looked around as if they’d see her hiding somewhere.

Fanny touched my arm. “Escaped? From the mercenaries?”

“Yes, but they said they’d hunt her down,” I said miserably.

“They will, Asta, if she sticks around. Don’t hold your breath if you think you’re going to be rescued.”

I listened to the girls explaining how the camp was run. They told me about the male prisoners and how they were kept separate, accept for the morning and evening meals.

“When word gets around that your teen pussy has arrived, those boys are gonna be bidding high…” Candy looked over her shoulder. “Old Oyono hasn’t started negotiating yet, but he will.”

I suddenly felt queasy. With the other four girls being in their twenties, it was a sure-fire fact that I would be picked on.

“Do the officers condone such a practice?”

“Such a fucking practice?” Fanny echoed my words.

Sash grabbed my arm. “Most of the officers aint here between 8 o’clock and six in the morning. They don’t give a flying fuck, so long as we’re all present and accounted for when they return.”

“Where do they go?”

Candy provided the answer. “This camp is like a carbuncle on the edge of a huge chunk of government land. The river to the south and west, plus the tributary to the east and north, form a natural island. This place is deliberately kept isolated from the main property, which houses a research facility and living accommodation for about twenty scientists and fifty soldiers. We aint supposed to go anywhere near that place, but we end up there every weekday, either tending to the grounds, or helping them test one of their new drugs.”

“They usually pick one of the older girls to experiment on, for fear of losing our young pussies,” Jan added, to clarify the point.

“You mean there are accidents…?”

“Sure. Several have gone in there and never returned.”

Of all the things I had heard, being experimented on was one of the most appalling. I couldn’t believe that I had landed in such a nightmarish situation; and I despaired at the way the four young women had acclimatized to the awful conditions.

I kept an eye on the corporal while I ate my food and witnessed him wandering across to the male group and chatting with one of the other soldiers. When they looked in my direction, I nearly choked on my banana.

“What’s the matter, girl?”

“The corporal is chatting with one of the guards over there.”

“Don’t be surprised if he fetches you later. Those boys are gonna want to take a look-see at your ass before they part with their cash…”

The thought of being paraded in front of a bunch of lecherous young men, like a slave, made me feel sick. “Do they pick on everyone?”

Fanny shook her head. “We’re the ‘A’ team, girl, which means young pussy to those niggers over there. They aint interested in the older girls, unless we’re busy being boned at the institute, or entertaining the officers.”

She was painting the blackest picture possible. The girls appeared to accept me into their group, but I got the feeling they thought I was going to relieve the pressure on their bodies, by diverting the men’s attentions away from them.

“Aren’t we supposed to transients? The Lieutenant said they were going to sell me.”

“They’ll try in the next auctions they hold,” Jan explained. “I’ve been in two, but no one bought me.”

“They need more girls our age before they hold another one. Us six aint enough.”

I looked around. “What about the others?”

“Nah, they’re all political prisoners. They’ll rot in here most likely.”

Candy lowered her voice. “This is the perfect place to hide a group of girls like us and then put us up for sale. Fuck knows what’s going to happen to us.”

I had so many questions I wanted to ask, but the corporal was approaching, so we had to cut our chat short. Everything I had heard depressed me, but at least I wasn’t on my own any more…

2. ‘Tight and juicy’.

Corporal Oyono approached and walked round the group, tapping his flexi-baton in the palm of his free hand. He slipped between Jan and Candy and stood by the chains. “Time’s up, girls…” One by one, the girls unenthusiastically stood up. I followed suit, but Oyono pushed me backward. “You’re on the end bitch, wait your turn.”

There were four lengths of stainless steel chain to be connected between our collars, secured with padlocks. It was total overkill, because he could probably overpower the five of us on his own. Besides, the threat of being beaten with his whippy stick was enough to keep most women in line.

Candy was at the head of the line and set of for the middle one of three long, run-down huts. The corporal waited for the girls to pass him before falling in beside me.

He swatted my ass. “Hold your forearms behind your backs like the others.”

“Sorry, Sir.” I hadn’t noticed the strange way the girls kept their arms behind their backs.

Another harder swat. “Keep the right distance, Asta, so the chain is loose, but not dragging.”

I adjusted my speed and quickly got the hang of it. After another 50 yards I followed the girls through the open doorway of the hut. “Uhhhhh! I grunted as I entered the dim interior.

The hut stank of urine and sweat, but no one else seemed to notice. The five beds were positioned in a row, in the centre of the room, leaving plenty of space to walk around each one.

There were no personal possessions on view, just the single beds made from rough timber, covered with a lumpy looking mattress. Ominously, a ring had been bolted through the tops of each of the four sturdy corner posts, on all five beds. And, hanging from the beam that ran down the middle of the hut, were five short ropes with a pair of hooks attached to the end of each one.

Dragging my eyes back to the beds, I noted a row of black buckets and guessed they were the source of the stink. I wondered if they were going to be emptied, or if we were going to have to sleep with them half full.

“Drop your drawers and assume the inspection position,” Oyono commanded.

Candy stopped at the furthest bed, pushed her shorts down to her ankles and then, leaning forward, placed her hands on the bed. The corporal walked down the side and stopped behind her, while the other three girls copied Candy’s example. Knowing I wasn’t going to get a free pass, I dropped my panties and leant forward too.

As soon as I put my hands on the mattress, I knew I was in for a torrid night. The blue stripy cover was filled with course fibres and covered with dark, grotesque stains. My skin crawled, imagining what was living inside and on the surface of the manky mattress.

I dipped my head as the sound of grunts got closer and closer. Finally, a hand settled on my lower back.

“Asta, part your feet so I can check your holes for contraband.”

“Waaaaah,” I gasped when he pushed his hand between my thighs briefly, to part them. Slap! Slap! Oowwww,” I complained when he swatted my bruised cheeks.

“If you’re not ready next time, I’ll use my stick.”

He was standing foursquare behind me and could have shafted either one of my orifices, if he wanted; but he wasn’t in a hurry.

First, he leant forward and fondled my hanging breasts. Pushing his body hard up against my ass, he mauled them as though he was kneading dough. I groaned when he squeezed and pulled my sore nipples.

“Girl, for a wigger, you’ve got nice firm tits,” he muttered in her ear.

I was relieved when he backed away slightly and started stroking my taut buttocks. “Firm and fat free,” he commented. “That’s what we expect in here.” He squeezed and pulled my globes apart. “Tight and juicy,” he crowed, when he finally dipped to my bulging pussy and slipped two fingers inside me.

While he jagged his huge digits back and forth in my succulence, he forced his slippery thumb into my pucker. “All this slime is handy for exploring a bitch’s foxholes.” He said, happily.

His appalling actions were crude and aggressive, and he wasn’t satisfied until he had thrust his thumb in as far as his hand would allow. Once he had a firm grip, he started to scissor my twin orifices.

“Uhhhhhhh,” I grunted, when he tried to bring his thumb and fingers together inside me.

“Bitch, I want to hear you purring, not growling…” The thought of spearing my juicy quim must have been too much for him, because moments after withdrawing, I felt the tip of his cock nudging my wet entrance.

“Is that better, my little teen fuck-toy?” he asked, as he slid his slick cock into my horizontal vagina.

“Yes, Sirrrr,” I replied with as much feeling as I could muster.

No sooner had he wedged his cock into my tightness, he gripped my belted waist and began slamming his hips against my posterior.

“Bitch! Bitch! Bitch!” he cried, when his climax reached boiling point.

He grunted in a peculiar fashion when he spurted his load, and then quickly withdrew and tucked his tackle away.

“Grab your buckets girls and get a move on.” His tone implied we were to blame for the delay.

After scrambling our panties up, we walked down the sides of the beds and picked up our buckets. One bucket contained piss, while the other, a bar of soap, brush and rag. Then, with me in the lead, I followed the corporal out of the hot, smelly hut and into the cooler sweet evening air.

I tried to shut out the previous 72 hours and forget about the times I had been shafted, or abused by one soldier, or another. Given the choice between sex and a beating, I would choose the former, under normal circumstances; but I was beginning to change my mind on the matter. Jasmine’s punishments had been getting more severe of late, so I had recovered from Lucy’s thrashing quite quickly.

It made sense to act in a submissive manner, in order to stay healthy and keep alive. Then, if I could find someone to help me, I’d be fit enough to escape and put some distance between me and the Chadian army.

The lithe corporal led us past another hut and down the path that led to the cages. Then, instead of turning right along the front of the pens, we turned left. After what I had witnessed before dinner, I wanted to stay as far away from the cages as possible.

The track dipped and twisted through head-high bushes and shrubs, until we reached a narrow river. The light was fading, but I could see the water was deep and flowing faster than the one we crossed earlier.

Oyono waited and watched while we lined up at the riverbank and threw the waste into the fast current, one by one. I felt dreadful dumping urine into the river and damaging the environment, but I had to accept there wasn’t any alternative.

The girls started to undress by stepping out of the tops and dropping their shorts, so I reluctantly copied what they were doing. Then squatting, naked at the riverside, we started washing our clothes with the bar of soap.

The corporal sat on a rock, lit up a cigarette and leant on his elbow to watch us scrubbing away at the flimsy garments. While we were doing that, another team arrived, so we waited for them to dump their sewage before continuing to wash our clothes. Oyono was joined by the other guard and together watched us lay the clothes on the rocks and then wade into the water to clean our bodies.

It was a bizarre sight to see five naked young women, connected by chains, standing in the river scrubbing themselves. It was a rare moment of pleasure that needed to be savoured for as long as possible. The crystal-clear water was heavenly and I made sure I scrubbed every square inch of my body.

“Asta, this is your opportunity to take a dump, otherwise you’ll have to wait until tomorrow at work,” Oyono shouted.

I glanced at the others and saw their positive reaction. I couldn’t see, but a couple of the girls waded out a little further and appeared to be relieving themselves. I also took the opportunity, but hated myself for doing it. Unfortunately, after another ten minutes of splashing about, we had to climb out when another team arrived to empty their buckets.

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