Mutiny In Léopoldville

[HistBuff]

Caterina came to on the hard concrete floor, naked, in a place that reeked of urine and lingering notes of vodka and chewing tobacco. Some daylight was filtering in. Otherwise, she was in a dark place. It took her a while to clear the cobwebs and remember where she was. In the mausoleum where she had been gang-raped by several men.

In the half darkness, she didn't see anything. The table was gone. Gone was the rug too. She saw clothes and realized it was her own.

They had left her naked and utterly humiliated; diminished below dirt. The sexton was considerate enough to leave her clothes there and the door open. With a bland-tasting relief, she found her clothes mostly undamaged, since they had pulled her turtleneck along her raised arms, forcibly and yet with the strange gentleness of men who knew they had the upper hand on a girl.

"I hope you won't hold it against us, Miss Caterina Valente!" the sexton had said as he left along with evil Gédéon, making his point clear. He knew who she was and how damaging for her reputation alerting the police would be. He knew she would keep this a secret. What a fun night it must have been for him! A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Gédéon wasn't stupid. He understood that keeping the star singer a prisoner for too long would attract too much attention.

Left alone in this half-dark mausoleum, Caterina somehow found the strength to stir and gather the pieces of clothing they had left her--- Her golden turtleneck and her dark skirt. They had taken her torn underwear, her stockings and even her flat-heeled slip-on shoes as trophies. They had taken her wallet and her purse for good measure. Strangely enough, they had left her her two-row bead necklace.

At last, she felt unexpected joy upon finding her greatcoat in a corner of the granite chamber, near a slab with an antique lead coffin on it, and she put it on, satisfied that she now looked a little more decent. Albeit she would look lost walking barefoot on the street. The churchyard was alas several kilometres away from her hotel near the town's central plaza.

Barefoot with her hair dishevelled under the bleak sun, and the air carrying a chill reminder of the night, she hurried out of the churchyard, ignoring the pebbles hurting her feet now and then. Walking as fast as she could, her heart racing, helping herself using grave stones, she kept advancing, fearing that those men would come back. She didn't dare knock at the church's presbytery door, out of fear that the priest turned out to be the sexton's best friend. She was getting better at preventing potentially bad situations.

She reached the place where she had parked her rental car the night before. The black Volvo was there, but she no longer had the keys! The keys were in her purse! Bastardi! She had no hidden doubles of keys nor the skill to steal the car.

She stood near the presbytery, in a winding street lined with tall pines and birches, with sparse houses. She felt the dirt under her feet as she began the long walk back to her hotel, with crows singing the graveyard anthem for the sunlit morning.

Her bare feet were hurting bad! After a couple minutes, when she got closer to where the houses became more frequent, when she was about to risk knocking at the door of a family house to ask for a ride, one car showed up. The driver slowed down and stopped near that pretty girl who wore a black greatcoat and stood barefoot.

"What is a prostitute doing so far from centre town?" the police officer at the wheel wondered as Caterina slowly approached the unmarked cruiser, then stepped back and began to walk away upon seeing the male driver.

The sergeant detective followed her with his idling car and switched on the radio. "Liam, you ain't far, aren't you? I have a lone girl walking barefoot in a black greatcoat; looks like a prostitute, but I've never seen her around here. She's real pretty!"

"I'm coming right over, Erik!"

"Uppfattat!" (Roger!)

Erik pulled aside near to where Caterina kept walking. When he got out of the dark Volvo, she tried to run, but he quickly caught up with her. An old man was sitting on his porch, having his morning coffee.

"Hello, Erik! Got another one of those night girls gone astray?" the old man said, clearly on a first-name basis with the sergeant detective, who wore civilian clothes.

Another car arrived from where Caterina was going. This one was a marked police cruiser. It stopped and a tall uniformed policeman got out of it. He smiled under his peak-cap as he saw Caterina, who panicked and began to yell in Italian, which caused several neighbours to come out and inquire what was disturbing their quiet Wednesday morning.

"What is she saying?" the uniformed policeman inquired as he grabbed the much shorter girl who was now trying to kick him while speaking angry words in Italian.

"Dunno, Liam. Let's ask her who she is," the street-clothes one replied.

Too stunned to understand their questions in Swedish, Caterina answered in Italian.

"Sono Caterina! Portatemi al mio hotel, subito presto!" (I'm Caterina. Take me to my hotel, right now!) She kept just enough sense not to say her family name as she clearly had no interest in the press learning about her mishap in Sweden.

"Italian, aren't we?" Liam said, grinning under his peak-cap as the policeman in street clothes helped him put her inside the car as she kept resisting and yelling and protesting, and probably swearing in Italian.

"Toglietemi le mani dal culo, pezzi di merda!" (Take your hands off my ass, you pieces of shit!)

While Liam sat in the back seat with her and quieted her down while still indeed groping her ass, Erik told everyone there was nothing here to see, before calling the dispatch to send someone pick up Liam's cruiser as they had apprehended "a suspect possibly involved in drug dealing and they were taking him in for interrogation".

Then, Erik put the unmarked Volvo in gear and drove off while his uniformed colleague restrained and kept groping Caterina, who realized they were not taking her to her hotel. They soon reached the open country, driving fast on a road lined with pines and farm houses.

They asked for her papers, and she finally gathered enough Swedish to tell them her wallet had been stolen, and she begged them to please take her to her hotel, then she swore some more in Italian as she felt Liam's hand firmly around one of her ankles.

"Lovely little feet you got there, Milady! I'm sure we'll solve your case soon, baby!"

"Togli le mani di dosso! Mi hanno rubato la borsa! Mi hanno tenuta tutta la notte al cimitero! Cinque uomini!" (Get your hands off me! They stole my purse! They kept me at the cemetery all night! Five men!) Caterina kept losing the count of how many men had raped her all night long.

"Speak Swedish, little angel! I love your fun accent! Love your eyes too! Such dark eyes with lovely eyebrows!" Liam said, forcing her to feel the visor of his peak-cap on her forehead as he forced-kissed her and absolutely kept his hands on her.

"They robbed me! They... They held me in the churchyard! Six men."

This led to more questions and they finally said they were taking her to some place for further questioning. She must not worry; this was routine procedure. They had no idea who she was, which both relieved and alarmed her.

"Please, just take me... to... Take me to the --the Krona Hotel, it's downtown. My passport, there."

"All right, Milady!" Liam replied, exchanging a knowing smile with his colleague at the wheel and keeping her in his grip at all times as she had almost clawed his face with her fingernails. She spat in his face and he laughed.

Liam felt his cock hard under his uniform, from being pressed against her.

Erik drove on, his cock just as hard in anticipation of what was going to happen next. Raping young female suspects was so much fun! He was driving to the special spot they used for this.

When they veered into a trail that took the unmarked Volvo into a dark forest of tall pines and shorter birches, Caterina knew all too well what she was in for. She felt too exhausted to try getting out of a rolling car. She cried and sobbed bitterly, begging them to please let her go! The exchange was clear enough. Her ass against her lift back to the hotel and no questions asked.

Caterina cast her head down and let the uniformed policeman run his hands on her wherever he pleased, realizing it was this or getting stranded again in the middle of nowhere, barefoot where she didn't know a soul, and to likely end up raped by the next men she'd run into.

When the car stopped in a clearing, Liam took her outside and ordered her to remove her greatcoat and spread it out nearby like a blanket.

"Come on, do it! We know you know Swedish! I'm sure we're gonna get along well, honey!" Liam said as she flatly removed her greatcoat and stood in front of him, staring at the dirty cop as if he were a lowly peasant and she a Countess. Their worlds were this far apart.

The Swedish policeman looked at her breast shapes through her golden turtleneck as if they held the secret to becoming a millionaire, while she felt the bizarre sensuality of forest ferns under her bare feet and realized she was about to get forcibly double-fucked outdoors, under the sun, something she had fantasized about in Congo, just not with white men. She was still sobbing while her body was preparing itself for the oncoming ordeal and she clenched her fists on either side of her hips.

The other policeman came behind Caterina and held her by the waist and began to kiss her neck while groping her crotch through her skirt, and she screamed and started to cry.

"Bastardi!"

"Now, calm down, pretty Miss! Just lie down on your coat and we'll do the rest! Isn't she a beauty, Liam? By the way I'm Erik Eriksson, so you'll have my name if you want to file a complain later. I'm sure we'll all love to see your pretty little ass at the station! You'll have something to ride all night long when we book you for walking the streets offering sex for money."

"You win," Caterina said in her sensual accented Swedish upon hearing this new threat of being raped by even more policemen at the station, which wasn't a practice unheard of. "Just--- Just be gentle, please, just go moderato, piano..." she added, sobbing.

"She sure is Italia's finest!" Liam replied. "Now, down on that blanket and let us see what these clothes are hiding! Don't worry, we won't hurt you. Unless we have to!"

Hearing the threat, Caterina laid herself down on her back and let both policemen dominate her and push up her turtleneck before taking turns in sucking and kneading her tits. She was forced to acknowledge that there was something deeply erotic in being bare-breasts between two Swedish cops under the sun. When one policeman was sucking and playing with her breasts, the other one was kissing her feet and lower legs. She kept herself from moaning as her body responded to having her feet cuddled by a man while the other one was covering her breasts with a vibrantly wet homage.

"Wow, Liam! I haven't seen such beautiful ones in a long time! Aaahhhh... yes! Lovely white tits! She must be from northern Italy... mmmmhh..."

Caterina closed her eyes and decided to endure their sordid adoration. She was starving and there was a good chance they'd finally take her home to her hotel room after what she hoped would be a quick double fuck session. But they took their time...

They undid her small belt and slid her skirt and she heard their ooohhs and felt their gazes on her vee down there. It didn't seem to alarm them that she wore no underwear.

"Now, Erik, that's what I call a lovely madonna's carpet, aaaahhrrr..."

Caterina felt his sickening tongue down there. Didn't he smell the vodka that had been poured there? Didn't he catch the foul taste left by the sexton and his men? They didn't seem to be bothered at all. Both policemen just licked and licked on...

"We better do her from behind, Erik. This way she won't try to grab a pistol from us."

"You're damned right, Liam. The cunt from last year was a close call. Thank God you had the safety on!"

"Yes, and besides, we need to look at her butt! Something tells me we gonna lover her ass!"

Caterina was thus flipped and moved around as they properly stripped her out of her skirt, but they left her turtleneck around her arms and instructed her to stay on her knees and elbows. With her arms entangled by her half-removed shirt, she couldn't make a sudden escape attempt. She could tell they had done this before.

She felt a pair of hands on her buttocks and a sickeningly gentle caressing pressure on both her buns. The policeman was apparently trying to imprint the shape and contours of her curves through his hands, committing his sensual crime to his memory.

"Don't worry, Madonna! We're gonna be gentle. We just wanna fuck you a little!"

Caterina heard him and knew the voice was from the one wearing street clothes---A nondescript dark blue suit with a brown fedora hat. She decided he was the good cop and said, "Fuck me, Erik! I like you better than that pig!"

"Oh, come down, Milady! Don't try to play us against each other!" Liam sneered.

"Do you think you're the first one trying this on us, Madonna? Now be a good girl or I'll stop being nice!" Erik said as he kept caressing her bottom. "But I'll give you one last chance, thanks to your lovely butt! Oh, nice! Oh I'm so God-forsake hard!"

Indeed, the penetration was gentle and so was the pair of hands holding the crease of her hips as she tensed upon feeling the deep soreness getting upset inside her pussy.

"You see, Milady! We're just like the military. Erik is the sergeant detective, so he takes you first! So don't say you were not raped according to the established international protocol. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!" As he spoke and laughed, Liam kept masturbating to keep his wiener hard as he watched Caterina's sensual figure on all fours with Erik feeding her with his grunting thrusts while the wind and the sun kept caressing her skin.

After a rhythmical session of thrusts where Erik quietly grunted and kept pressing himself against her, he became more frantic and urgent, his gorilla-like grunts echoing against the nearby pines amid the woods.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaahhhh... This is good!" the Swedish policeman declared as he looked up at the blue heavens and spewed his Béchamel sauce inside the Italian girl, pressing her butt as he enjoyed his relief to the last drop. "Aaah! Very very good! Try her out, Liam!"

"I sure will. I'm gonna take her back door!"

Caterina spent the next seven minutes and a half in hell, relinquishing any semblance of dignity as she yelled in pain. This Liam pig was quite large and he wasn't gentle! Her knees and hands pressed into her spread-out greatcoat, she kept being shaken amid the storm of grunting that made her think of a wild boar she had once seen copulating, before quietly retreating to a safer place... and got almost bitten by a viper near Modena.

"Haaaaahhhnnyyy gghhiiiiihhh!!" was Liam's final victory call as he let go of a king-size load inside her rectum, before pulling out and she felt another bolt of heat as it landed plump on her butt cheek.

She hated him, but felt relieved it was finally over. Now she hoped they were going to help her back in her clothes and kindly drive her back to her hotel.

Her heart turned to water as she heard another male voice. A third man. No! Oh no!

"Hey, Liam! Erik! What are you up to now---Oh ohh! Now that's a pretty fish you caught in your net this time!" said a hunter, his rifle slung on his shoulder and wearing a hat and a green outfit that made him look weirdly German. He was maybe forty-five and a young man was with him, also with a rifle and wearing a similar outfit.

"Hello, August! This one is Italian, and from what we've seen and felt from her, she's no prostitute! Her turtleneck shirt looks quite expensive and so does her skirt and her greatcoat," Erik replied.

"Yeah, I'd say she's some rich girl who got herself in a jam. Who knows, maybe she's a movie star down there in Italy, but we have her here now, like a free rental girl! We're driving her back to her hotel, but we made the usual detour here first!" Liam added. "Is Björn with you?"

"He sure is, just taking a piss not far off. She's quite a stunner! Eh! Don't you know who she is?"

"No. I don't know and I don't care! She's all yours, August, just leave your rifle with us. We don't want her to grab it!" said Liam.

Caterina began to cry and beg as the hunter approached her after leaving his rifle with Liam while Erik held her arms together while keeping her on her knees and elbows, forcing her to remain there with her protruding bottom facing the newcomer. August kept his knowledge for himself about who she was, and when he fell on his knees and began to lick her butt, he found immense delight in being the only man who knew she was Caterina Valente!

August took off his hat, revealing a shiny bald head under the sun, and a crown of hair that had once been blond, but now had lots of silver in it. Maybe he was handsome twenty years ago when the war broke out. He had a fancy mustache, a thin long face and blue eyes that remained locked on Caterina's naked grace. His cock greatly rejoiced at the prospect of filling up the star singer from behind, the only position he used his ageing wife in. Coming back home to his wife was going to be a bit challenging after a fuck with the famously beautiful star.

The local middle-aged man knelt, undid his belt and dropped his trousers before urgently penetrating her and the rocking encounter began where Caterina Valente tried to relax and endure this new turn of fate. She heard a new voice that clearly sounded like an older man...

"Erik, Liam! Where did you get this work of art? This is the prettiest one you ever caught!"

This had to be Björn. Caterina hoped he wasn't too big and he wasn't going to last long, this while she remained down on her elbows and knees, quietly enduring August's repeated homages as he mumbled things about the war and anti-Nazi partisans he had helped to capture and then partook to the gang-rape of their girls, once the SS soldiers had taken their pleasure first. From what she understood, these had been youths who got caught by civilians helping the Germans. They had shot them all in this very forest after gang-raping the girls. August had taken part in this. He was that kind of monster.

She clenched her fists with rage against her greatcoat as she realized she was being raped by a pro-Nazi. It was thanks to the Nazis that she had ended up one year in Soviet captivity after the Red Army captured Breslau, where she was with her family at the time. Her brother had nearly been killed, and she had negotiated his life. Her virginity was lost in the bargain.

"Haaah haaah haaah hah haah hhaah, YEah! Heil Hitler!!!" the pro-Nazi uttered as he shook on his knees, holding her waist in his convulsions as he lost a great deal of slobber through his open mouth and ejaculated square and fair inside the Italian beauty, who had legs and buttocks he would never forget the feel of.

"Aaaaaahh, by Jove! She was just as good as this little tramp we had here during the war! Remember this, Björn?" August said as he gave a thank-you slap to Caterina's firm buttocks.

Then it came to that Björn, an overweight squat man with a bad face and little eyes that seemed to like seeing others suffering; just the kind of man who would side with SS soldiers and join them in raping a girl from his own parish, and the kind of coward who would lay low once the wind had turned.

Björn quickly got rid of his rifle and stripped himself out of his jacket, then he said, "I'll show ye how it's done" speaking quite fast and she didn't understand all he said after. Something to the effect of seeing her tits under the sun.

She was indeed moved around until she faced the sky and was instructed to elevate her pelvis using her legs while spreading her legs out, showing herself almost forming a wrestler's bridge where the fifty-year-old countryman could see her entrance as plain as day. He had a record of her at home, but paid so little attention to her face that his old friend August remained the only one who realized who they were gang-raping. August's son suddenly recognized her, but his father put a silent finger on his own mouth.

"You stay like this! You don't move or else you'll have a loaded Lüger pistol inside yer cunt!" Björn warned as he knelt between Caterina's spread-out thighs, where his pelvis was in line with her entrance. "Now bitch! I guess yer one of those Italians who hung Mussolini by the feet, although you must have been a child back then, I'm gonna give this to ya! How many years do ya think she's got under her carburetor, Liam?"

"Hard do say. Twenty four, maybe. Can't be older than that. She's real tight!"

"Heil Hitler, Miss!" Björn said as he entered inside her without warning. Then he grabbed her waist, told her again to hold the position and went to work inside her, shaking her a great deal and admiring the plunging view on her shaken tits as he violently raped her, and she obeyed his command, straining with her legs to help him hold her in this unusual position, which her body almost liked against her will.

The Italian girl received his furious assaults with disgust and her head bobbing on the ground among ferns, where all the moving-around had led her away from her greatcoat and among the ferns. The pig raping her laughed as he heard the whimpers she failed to repress; these ferns and her bobbing head among them kept forcing her to admit there was something profoundly erotic in being taken like this by several men. Outdoors, next to a stopped Volvo in the Swedish country. Where she saw a forest of tall pines upside down.

August and his son kept gazing at her jiggling fun of her upended tits, both sharing the secret that this naked girl was none other than Caterina Valente. August's cock was already resuscitating while his son was having his most violent erection ever!

"Heil Hitler! Heil Hitler!" the sick rapist kept repeating as he shook her, on and on, in this near wrestler's bridge where she was taken full-on between her thighs, her straining legs folded, while feeling the ferns under her feet, as the punishment went on with intensifying thrusts and noises. And all those gazes on her. She was now moaning and taking Björn inside her well-juiced and jismed-in vagina.

"Wow! Björn is really shaking her!" Liam observed.

"Yeah, she's no different from the others. They all end up enjoying it!" the street-clothes policeman replied.

Björn lost his hunter's hat in his madness, along with a good deal of frothing slobber, as he kept holding her waist and used her like a sex doll. His grunting fury echoed far and wide among the birches and the tall pines. "HRRH HRR HRR HRRR HRR HRRRRRRRRRRR! The li'le tramp! Hrrr hrrr hrrrrhhhh!"

Erik was holding her wrists on the ferns the whole time. "How do you like this, Miss? Enjoying your trip in Sweden?"

"Heil Hitler! HEIL HITLER-RRRRRRRHHH NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNDDJJNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNhhhh..."

After receiving Björn's epic load, Caterina was finally allowed to lie down on the ferns as Björn, his balls blissfully empty, fell upon her and proceeded to give her tits an authentic country-style session of proper spit-polish, from the pro-Nazi with sick love.

The radio came alive in the unmarked Volvo. Erik picked up the radio while Liam flipped the girl around and proceeded to lick her butt like a love-sick man who had spent one year without seeing a woman.

"Where are you? What on earth are you doing?" barked the Captain from headquarters. The Sergeant detective quickly made up a story...

"We... We were taking a prostitute from the area near the churchyard. We picked her up there, but she ran away from the car and we had to uh, you know to chase her into the forest, but uh, we got her now in custody, Sir! We're bringing her to the station, Sir!"

"You stay right where you are! I'm coming over!" the Captain replied and cut off the radio.

August had persuaded his shy son to try out the famous singer, but he felt doing this was wrong. The poor woman was hurting and clearly not enjoying this.

"Come on, son! You're young and handsome, she'll like you! Women all secretly want to be taken by force," his father said.

After some hesitation as he watched both Björn and Liam take turns in kissing her buttocks, legs and feet, he heard her say it was chill and she felt cold.

The young man picked up her turtleneck shirt and began helping her putting it back on, while Björn and Liam kept worshiping her feet and her lower legs.

"I'm really sorry they're doing this to you, Miss Valente! I hate it! I love your songs I think your pretty!" the son said.

Caterina looked at the lad in terror and put her index finger on her lips, terrified he would tell the others about who she was, and the boy nodded. "Yes, Ma'am!" His voice was nice to listen to. His youthful features were a boon for her eyes after her night alone with unkempt men. She then turned to the men and spoke in her sensual Swedish...

"If I take you all in my mouth starting with this boy, will you take me to my hotel?"

The policemen and the hunters looked at each other, then nodded... "You got yourself a deal, Milady!" Liam replied.

Naked from the waist down as she wore only her turtleneck, Caterina knelt on her greatcoat in front and under the tall boy, whose black denim trousers she unzipped before lowering his boxer underwear to produce a cock that had already precummed from being stiff the whole time he had watched his father, then Björn rape her.

The tall boy just looked at her in shock, his mouth ajar, as the much older girl began the fellatio.

"You... You're very beautiful, Ma'am! I love your legs!" he said, awestruck that he was getting this from Caterina Valente!

"I'll tell you a secret," Caterina whispered to the country lad while kissing the head of his bulging cock. "Just between you and me, I love boys!" she whispered again, worshiping his cock with a flurry of pecking kisses.

"Whaaaooohh!" the boy uttered, already on the verge of shooting jism. Caterina licked his full length, gently but with insistence, doing just what he had often dreamed a girl would do to him, and she kept insisting with her licking as the boy moaned louder and louder.

"She's quite a good mouth worker, isn't she?" Erik commented as he stood by Liam.

"Italian girls are like that. I heard they practice with their cousins and brothers from a tender age!" Liam replied.

"She sure as hell makes me impatient to enjoy her mouth!"

"We're next, Erik! Police privilege!"

The moaning boy suddenly detonated like a human geyser, covering Caterina's face with a great abundance of jism, some of which landed on her turtleneck.

"My turn now!" Liam said as he walked at Caterina, then seized her head and ordered her to "open your pretty mouth, Milady!"

***

Liam was raping Caterina's face and reaching his edge when a police car pulled into sight on the trail. The Captain emerged just in time to witness the scene where Caterina was swallowing Liam's coconut milk with one last compliment from his crotch pressing her face where he held her head with both hands.

Her mouth filled with the vile taste, she saw the newcomer, another cop! and her heart sank! He looked like the most depraved policeman ever, wearing a grey suit and a hat he clearly had bought at least ten years before.

"Did you really think you could outsmart me, Erik?" the Captain bellowed, smiling jovially under his fedora as he looked at the captive girl. "Yeah, I love brunettes with bobbed hair, and what an ass she has!" he further remarked as he looked at the scene where Liam wiped his cock using her hair.

The police Captain rose his hat civilly and politely saluted the kneeling girl near Liam, who had quickly got his trousers zipped and looked almost presentable.

What followed was a classic scene that the Captain had played out many times before when detaining a female suspect. He grabbed Caterina and pushed her against the unmarked Volvo and bent her over the hood, before unzipping his suit's trouser and promptly entering her.

"You did right to leave her shirt on, boys!" the Captain said amid his grunts while Caterina, hands flat on the hood where her head rested, did her best to take the punishment calmly, wishing and hoping it would soon be over. "You did right, this way her butt looks so much more naked! Oohh, her skin's so soft!"

"She's Italian, Sir!"

"Gimme a cigar!"

"Right away, skipper!"

It was the Captain's custom to keep his fedora on and smoke a cigar while raping a girl. He looked like a film noir cop having sex against a car with a gorgeous actress naked from the waist down, one hand against her waist, the other holding the cigar that Erik was lighting for him.

"Now, Miss, you keep going, I wouldn't want to drop hot ashes on your lovely ass!"

Caterina heard the message as the breeze carried the cigar's smell to her semen-crusted nose. She moved herself in a way that kept her bottom bouncing against the man and in fact, she tried to move herself in a way that maximized his pleasure, thus making the rape shorter. She did so with good effect...

"Hooo hoo yes! Yes! Yer a good fuck! Hhh g'd good! Your ass! Love yer ass! HhnnNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN..."

The Captain remained there, panting as he dropped his cigar and grabbed her waist using both hands to give her some final thrusts until the bliss got too painful.

"Now, Sir, she was about to suck our cocks..."

"Did you try her squatting?"

"Begging you pardon, Sir?"

"Erik, lie down on this greatcoat. Liam, bring the girl near Erik..."

Shortly, the Captain showed how to make the girl squat down on Erik's lap while looking directly at him. She had to be held by the arms and remain cooperative for this to work. Promising her a ride back to her hotel was enough to secure this. And besides, she was too exhausted and just found some sordid relief in letting those Swedes do whatever they pleased with her body. Her pearl necklace glistened under the sun; it was the one and only thing she still wore as they rose her arms and promptly took her turtleneck off; her girly boobs under the sun secured Erik's erection to mast status.

"You see," the skipper explained, "this way you have the best view on her tits, and the penetration! It's crazy deep! And we all know that a man lying on his back has the biggest load! And you can also see her legs the whole time, and her cunt, and this girl has a wonderful cunt! Even blacker than her hair!"

"If... If I," Caterina said, "If I let you have me like this, will you PLEASE take me to my hotel?"

"You have a lovely accent, young lady," the Captain replied, "but yeah, if you do this squatting as I say and let me suck your tits after, I think we'll take you back to your hotel. I'll drive you myself free of charge!"

And thus it began, and it proved to be Erik's most gigantic erection he ever experienced! Seeing Caterina's breasts from this low angle was so powerfully erotic! They had removed her turtleneck shirt from the get-go, just as they had squatted her down upon him, and it was a joy to see her free-moving breasts drop back down from the slid-up fabric and settle in their natural grooves! Now, as he felt her pussy so tight around him and began to move her on him, gently holding her hips as she pressed her hands near his knees and moved herself as she rode him and began to moan! A very cooperative Italian girl. As he saw her perky breasts move up and down to his upward thrusts, he felt she couldn't be older than twenty-two, she was so hot!

She even moaned loud on purpose, to hasten his climax and get rid of him. But she also ran the risk of attracting more countrymen with the noise she was making as she even simulated an orgasm at some point.

She was kept squatting by Liam, who held her by the armpits while kissing the side of her face as she kept looking away from him. Her breasts seemed swollen with sensual life as she kept bouncing herself on Erik, her pussy tightly massaging his hard cock until he let out one liberating scream of bliss!

She did them all in this same squatting position, where she could at least control the rhythm, but her legs were on fire from squatting for so long! Even though she was a fit dancer, her muscles were screaming, but her alluring shapes saw to it that each new man was quickly dispatched, soon uttering the sounds of a dying man as she felt his pleasure through his hands on her hips.

August and his pro-Nazi memories. Liam and his way of looking at her as if she were the only woman on earth, which raped her soul by filling her with unwanted pleasure. Björn and his vile piggish eyes. August's son, who didn't even last a minute before screaming out the loss of his virginity!

Then the Captain himself, who finally took the down payment of his own idea.

The Captain spent the entire coitus looking into her eyes and commanding her to keep looking at him. He often looked down at her bosom, where the noon sunlight was bathing her ever-moving breasts. He also felt she couldn't be older than twenty-two. He also had the weird feeling he had seen her somewhere, but where? But after some too short minutes of feeling her tight pussy as she bounced on him and moaned while complimenting him on his enduring cock, the local police skipper was lost in the sudden surge of a climax that came sudden and with erupting force!

"Oohh yeah! My wife hasn't felt like this since a long way back! Aaaahhrrrr hrrrr hrrr love yer tits! Yer ass! Yer AAASSSSS! UUGGHH GHH..."

She felt his fingers sink into the sides of her butt, where he had been holding her the whole time, and as he erupted inside her, the Captain convulsively drove her up and down in frantic motions, making sure this ejaculation was a magnificent one! Her breasts and her spotless skin were responsible for the extra semen as she grew worried about becoming pregnant, for this was the worst possible time of her month.

The fifty-year-old skipper thanked her properly by stretching her down on her greatcoat before spending a good ten minutes sucking her breasts in many different manners, sometimes gentle, sometimes biting her nipples and making her squeal!

At long last, after the local men and both policemen had similarly enjoyed her tits, after August's son had masturbated and spewed a load on them, after some other formalities such as fingering her until she said this was the best day of her life, like she had been ordered to, and done so with a convincing tone, in Swedish, then in Italian, after she had French-kissed all of them and been, Caterina was finally stamped for approval and instructed to get dressed again.

The whole way back to her hotel, she greatly feared that the Captain would drive her to the station for more rapes at the hands of the local police, but with a sigh of relief, she recognized the street near her hotel and the Captain kissed her before letting her out of the marked Volvo patrol car.

"No hard feelings, young lady. It was pleasant! Be more careful next time!" and with those parting words, he drove off, leaving her barefoot in her greatcoat in front of her hotel, with her hair in much disarray and her mouth still full of semen taste.

A kind old woman from the staff helped her to her room on the second floor. Caterina broke down in tears and cried for the longest time in her lap, like a girl crying in her mother's lap. This motherly woman happened to be Russian. An old "babushka" filled with endless love.

The babushka brought her food and kept stroking her hair as she cried on. She knew what the police had done to her. She understood when Caterina said she did not want to see a doctor. She gave her a special kind of chai that was said to help preventing pregnancy. She knew who she was but didn't bring up the subject.

Caterina flew home to Paris two days later.

EPILOGUE.

October 1960. Paris.

As she sang in the music hall in front of a capacity crowd, under solid police protection she had insisted upon, Caterina Valente remembered all what those men had done to her in Sweden two weeks before. To her public, this was her triumphant return after months of hiatus.

Her voice had never sounded better. As if being gang-raped and screaming "Bastardi!" with such a high pitch had given her voice the cure it needed.

She had flown to Paris shortly after the ordeal and spent time nursing her emotional wounds, but still unable to stop thinking of African cocks. Masturbating to fantasies where she was pulled out of her car somewhere in Congo and raped by mutinied soldiers near a baobab under the bright sun. Much to her relief, she did not miss her period.

And she sang! Oh how she sang! She recognized public figures in the front rows. They had come to see her, to hear her! She was so happy they had come and she sang so well for them!

King Baudouin was there, with his new wife. Caterina had read about their wedding in the newspaper. His wife was a beautiful brunette from Spain, about her own age. She was happy for him, she truly did.

Other celebrities sat in the front row, actor John Payne among them and she felt honoured he had flown all the way from America to hear her sing; and found him quite attractive. The public had missed her. Now she was going to take her career further up and become a world-acclaimed singer, not just in Europe! She was going to seduce America.

As she sang, she noticed that the King never broke eye contact with her. In her long evening dress, the very same surf-green dress she had sung in in Léopoldville, she evening-dreamed about seeing Paul Anka in this crowd where so many men looked at her with plain lust. Anka was so ungodly handsome! She felt so old when thinking of this boy! Then all those men seemed to turn into negroes ready to storm the scene and claim her as prize to celebrate their country's independence. She nearly paused mid-song.

But each note, each lyric coming out of her mouth made her feel better, like someone waking up from a horrible nightmare. She even sang her own version of "Lonely Boy" as a tribute for this secret love she felt for Paul Anka, whom she had first met down there in Congo. It was of course entitled "Lonely Girl" and the music arrangement was the same. She sang it in sensual English...

"I'm just a lonely girl, lonely and blue,
I'm all alone, with nothing to do...
I've got everything, you could think of,
But all that I want, is someone to love!
Someone yeah someone to love,
Someone to kiss,
Someone to hold, at a moment like this!
I'd like to hear, somebody say,
I give you my love, each night and day!
I'm just a lonely girl, lonely and blue...

The song came out as a surprise smash hit, and she received a warm ovation, especially from the men, when she said she had written the song especially for her return in Paris. She knew all too well it was for Paul Anka and only for him she had written it.

Then came the intermission, where she rested alone in her changing room. She needed the rest, for it was a hot night in the music-hall, but when her girl-in-waiting came with the long black dress she was to wear for the second half of her performance, she declined.

There was no way she was going to change out of her sea-foam dress that she wore that night in Congo when she had met Paul! Not now, not at a moment like this! when all she wanted was Paul. To kiss him! And be kissed by him! Everywhere. A boy! Only eighteen while she was turning 30 next January. She even pushed her décolleté lower, thinking about such a scandal that would hit the headlines if she had an affair with the handsome singer and the press had wind of it!

It was a wall of oohs and aaahs from the male audience when she reappeared, looking more sensual than ever, her cleavage in plain sight where the rest of her breasts could be plainly guessed. Critics would write about her entering a different phase in her career, her voice maturing into something immortal, and making no mention of the elephant in the room. Her boobs.

At the very end of her performance, where she only sang in French for her Parisian public, Caterina sang "Chanson d'amour", which had already become a classic after five years. She was drenched in sweat, exhausted, but happy her return was proving to be a triumph.



Once the heavy curtain had come down after she saluted and bowed to her public twice, only very select dignitaries were allowed near her room, which was heavily guarded by policemen.

After Général de Gaulle and his glamorous mustache had left, King Baudoin came with flowers, and introduced his wife, Fabiola de Mora y Aragón, to whom Caterina felt instantly and strongly attracted. Fabiola had Andalusian eyes and royally bright features that you never forgot and made you feel unworthy of being in her presence.

The young singer remained with the royal couple and said, "Thank you for the flowers, but there's one true gift you could give me and it would make me so happy!"

"What would this be, Caterina?" the Queen asked in a voice that had her skip a heartbeat as she heard her own name from her royal lips. She went forward and kissed Fabiola! Much to the delight of her husband, who find the sight so incredibly hot! He sexually knew both women.

"Sorry, overflow of emotions I guess," Caterina said, keeping one hand on the Queen's shoulder. "Be happy together! That's the best gift you could give me," Caterina said, leaning close to Fabiola and speaking with eyes that said, "I'd love to have sex with you!"

Fabiola felt confused and blushed. She looked at Caterina's cleavage and suddenly felt like experiencing girl-on-girl sex. Her husband noticed and thanked Caterina, taking his wife along with him and straight to his hotel, where he was no doubt to have a steaming session of sex to help her spawn a heir to the throne.

Caterina suddenly saw him. Paul Anka!

She took him inside her changing room and locked the door. Seconds later, her décolleté was down and wide open and the teenage singer was sucking her tits and drinking all the sweat off them! Picturing her amid a crowd of Congolese soldiers taking turns in worshiping her tits while stripping her naked!

He had come to see her by himself, had watched her the whole night from amid the crowd, using binoculars with his incognito under the disguise of an old man, which he had only removed to show the policemen who he was. Someone in the crowd had even called him an old pervert as he kept looking at her and her surf-green décolleté through his binoculars.

Paul Anka sucked Caterina's breasts with his cock stiffer than it had ever been for his ex-girlfriend Annette, who had always refused sex to him. "Not before we're married", the Catholic Italian-American pop singer had said. He had read about the mutiny that had broken out in Léopoldville very shortly after he had flown out of Congo and back to Canada. Knowing Caterina was still staying there when it happened.

Paul Anka screamed, "The soldiers of Congo!" when he penetrated her from behind and lost his virginity as she received him bent over her vanity! Her cunt exploded with juices galore as he slid inside her and she heard his scream about Congo just as she felt his hands on her buttocks, where he had hastily pushed her evening dress up and ripped her panties off!

She just melt in his arms and the police standing guard felt ill-at-ease upon overhearing her moaning like a lost soul while the young singer grunted like a coconut-drinking orangutan! Paul had read all he could find about the mutiny and added two and two together, knowing Caterina Valente was staying in the Memling Hotel when it was stormed by a great many Congolese soldiers who had "molested all the European women present there".

This was the true reason why he had flown to Paris. To fuck her! After masturbating the whole summer over the same fantasy where she got gang-fucked by many uniformed Congolese.

Caterina understood this after hearing him utter that scream, and especially after he shouted "Aaaaaaahhh all Congolese cocks inside her!!!" as he shot his jism inside her while running his boyish hands on her stockinged legs. Thankfully this was the safer time in her month, for she would never have refused her pussy to him, not to Paul Anka!

His shouting about Congo only deepened her arousal. After Paul had filled her up, she remained bent over and fingered herself into an exploding orgasm where she bit her lip not to be too noisy, this while Paul masturbated to be hard again as quickly as possible. He wanted to have her again! soon!

All Caterina understood was he had masturbated over her after reading about the mutiny. She went down on her knees and began to avidly lick and suck his quickly growing cock! She licked all the mix of her juices and the jism covering it, and then she begged him to please do her again while uttering "Congo".

The policemen guarding her door wore an uneasy smile as they overheard the grunts where Paul kept repeating "Congo... Congo... Congo!" They didn't know what to make of this. They had already forgotten the news about whatever happened in Congo that summer, and they were French. They had no idea she had traveled over there either.

Paul knew she had been gang-raped by a great many cocks down south, that she had been violently stripped and touched everywhere by those savages, and this drove him mad with lust! Caterina climaxed hard, her face ever sliding on her vanity as the teenage singer fucked her just as deep as she had been fucked during the urgent rapes down there. With the same conquering force. She was made for this!

Whatever the Congolese soldiers had unknowingly stirred within her was hit again by Paul's urgent assaults and she couldn't help but love how he kept fucking her while repeating "Congo! Congo!"

Caterina was meant to be fucked, and best fucked when it had something to do with Congo.

The End.

[HistBuff]

The story is now complete. 24 chapters, many of which can be read as its own story. This is in fact several stories woven into one long opus. I've begun to proof-read the entire story the way it deserves. The entitled chapters have been revised, but with very small changes if any.