Yes, she thought, going over the ideas now in her mind. Give first and then be given in return. That made a lot more sense. And of course, it is necessary to give something the receiver wants, not something he doesn't care to have. What would a king of these primitives want? If she searched in the jungle for a beautiful flower or a small animal or bird, would such things please this king? She didn't really know his tastes other than for tortoise.
'Balloo? What kind of gift that I could find, maybe, in the jungle, would please King Daranje Kawat? Does he like flowers?'
'Why, Missa Julie?' He sighed more heavily than ever. He was just dozing off into the most comfortable of naps.
'I have questions, Balloo,' she said fretfully.
The big man got to his feet wearily and left the hut. In a very short time, two women came for her and led her to a large sunken vat which a whole stream of women were filling with water from small clay bowls they carried on their heads. Since the women could not speak English, there was no way for Julie to know what was happening. She had been taken as naked as she had lain on the mat inside. The robe had been left behind. Suddenly, she was pulled on each side by a woman into the tub of water. Sand was brought and her flesh was scrubbed once more until it was a bright pink. Her hair was combed with an ivory four-pronged comb, and then she was dunked into the water all over several times. Again her hair was combed, and with water still dripping from her body, she was taken from the vat and clothed in a finer robe than before. It was still a dud brownish yellow color but the weave was finer and the material softer.
When she was taken to the king's huge hut, his palace, and put through the same dusting procedures with which she was already familiar, her heart jumped. She must have been granted an audience with the king in spite of the fact she had no gift for him. Perhaps Balloo had been lying to her to shut her up. But when she was led into the same room in which she had seen the king before, there was only Balloo, sitting alone at the table. Then it occurred to her that they had heard her father's decision and they were getting her ready to be sent home. She was seated at the table with Balloo and sat quietly for awhile. Finally, she spoke quaveringly.
'You… you heard from my father?'
'I know not,' he answered, abruptly, she thought. Her heart reached out. She felt lonely, as though she had lost a friend somehow. Then a question bothered her.
'What happens to me, Balloo, if my father refuses to leave?'
'The king will say.'
She reached hesitantly to touch the flesh of his arm. 'Will you protect me? I mean, if… if…'
'No.'
Her hand drew back, whipping into the sleeve of her robe as though it had been stung by a bee.
'Wh… why?' She felt tears rise to her eyes, not so much because she lacked protection but because she suffered the loss of him.
He sat back, chuckling, which was the way of his people so often. 'Missa Julie no want man. Missa Julie want king!'
'On, no, Balloo!'
'Daranje Kawat is king. Balloo is man. Missa Julie want king like God of the feathered spirits. 'Who is like unto him?'' Julie recognized the quotation. It was one her father was fond of using. Balloo was now roaring with laughter. 'Balloo… not like unto him… and… and not Daranje Kawat either!' He guffawed.
Suddenly, Julie was struck with his meaning. He meant that she had listened to her father teach that no one could match his God of the feathered spirits, no mere man could satisfy her, not even their king, Daranje Kawat! She was discontented with the man for his own sake! She had to have the best, a king, nay, a God!
'No, Balloo, no!' Tearfully she shook his arm to try to stop his laughter, but before he stopped, two women had come for her and led her into a chamber on the other side of the room. There she saw a rush mat a foot deep!
Before she even realized what was happening, her robe had been taken off, the women had gone, and Daranje Kawat came in from a side door. He had a smile on his face, but she could not help trembling. Had he heard from her father? She wished to ask but the words would not even squeak out.
'You have gift,' he said, still smiling. He looked as though he were to break out into the same inane chuckle she was getting accustomed to in the others. Then her irritable mood changed and she found herself wishing he would chuckle. It seemed as though her feelings were more in control of her opinions than she was. With a quick scoop then, he reached down for her as she trembled, and he turned her over on her face, pulling up at her hips and bunching the robe up and around her waist. Her ass waved whitely in the air at him.
It all happened so fast, she had little time to think, only to gulp. She felt his hands on her ass, felt them drawing the cheeks slowly apart. She was so frightened, she did not dare object. This man wielded the power of life and death! She felt the hands move away, and they were replaced by wild slavering lips coursing all around her smooth, oval asscheeks. He was biting into them without control, bringing tiny gasps of pain from her as she screwed her pelvis down into the mat to try and escape, unconsciously. He pulled and stretched at her asshole, and she could feel the strain on the tight rubbery ring around it. It hurt and she felt lewd and obscene and her whole soul, not just her body, felt naked and exposed to all the world as the black form hovered over her ass behind and slobberingly plundered at the tiny brown puckered hole. There was a pressure against her ankles then, and she did not resist as she felt her legs pulled open wide until the tips of her toes were hanging down on either side of the tall mat. The king's finger poked at her asshole, and she jerked automatically from the sudden pain.
Julie gasped and pleaded silently for a second, and then realizing there was really nothing she could do, relaxed to be used as the slavering primitive crouching behind her desired. She had to admit to herself that she had been attracted by him, but not for this and in such an impersonal way! She might have been a rag doll to him! She sucked in her breath as he dug at her asshole again with his middle finger, insinuating it slowly and methodically into the depths of her rectum. She moaned and pressed her face tight into the woven grass as she felt him slip it in harshly up to the first knuckle and begin to move it around sadistically in her tight contracting asshole. He dug his finger deeper and she cried out, but the scream died in her throat as she remembered that Balloo was right in the next room through an open door.
Then the king slipped his finger from her rectum with a wet sucking noise and clasped his broad thick rod in his hand. His orange and white robe, which opened down the front, was tied back out of the way. He had not meant to touch the white girl, but when Balloo had told him she had questions, he could not resist. Never had he enjoyed a piece of white ass. Then he would answer one or two of her foolish questions. He had seen time and again that those who did not know how to live, especially those who gave their souls to the God of the feathered spirits, were full of absurd questions.
He lowered himself down onto her back and she could fed his hands pulling the cheeks of her ass wide apart. He lifted his own ass in the air, and she could feel the tip of his black cock probing against her for several seconds, trying to find the tightly puckered hole. He did.
He pushed forward, and she felt a slight pop at her asshole, and then she suffered a sudden spasm of pain so unbearable that she twisted and screamed again and again, trying with all her strength to get away. Her asscheeks were moving like a snowy owl thrashing about to escape, but her jerks only helped to drive his huge black prick deeper and deeper inside of her.
She could feel the pressure of his body pressing down on her with a pulverizing strength, pushing her down into the mat, punishing the lovely white ass that waved back at his eyes. She bucked back up at him, trying to throw him off, but as she bucked up, he fucked down and imbedded his thick, rock-hard cock all the way to the hilt in the soft flaccid tunnel of her ass.
'Aaaauuuuuuuugggggggghhhhhhhh,' she grunted in pain and continued her hopeless thrashing beneath him. She no longer felt human as the huge black blood-swollen cock ripped far up into her rectum, pushing against the bottom of her belly inside. She felt as though she were being split open by a knife and her insides were torn and ripped as they never had before. The pain was unbearable, and she fought in wild desperation for a full minute longer against the brutal fleshy pole sunk in her backside, and then with a final groan of hopeless surrender, her strength failed. She collapsed in a limp mass of flesh beneath the body of the king, who had her pinned to the thick mat like a butterfly to a board. This was clearly not doing any good. To get it over with, she had to help him, not fight him!
Daranje Kawat suddenly groaned as he felt the white girl's anal muscles tighten around his long thick length of
