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Larra’s
Revenge
Too weak to move, Larra lay on the ground
crying quietly. She had been
completely subjugated by the brutal
African. Blood trickled from
her ravaged vagina. Her insides
felt like they had been set on fire.
She was still securely bound.
Her struggles during the rape had merely served to pull the knots
more tightly. Slowly she began
to pull herself together. Crying
would not bring back her lost virginity, nor would it help her to
escape. Her natural resilience
and toughness now helped her to recover.
She had to think of a way out of this deadly
situation.
Chui lay a few feet from her, seemingly overcome
with exhaustion. He breathed
deeply and slowly and seemed to be
asleep. Larra was sure that when
he awoke he would kill her. Now
that he had had his way with her, she would be of no value to
him. She did not in any way imagine
what Chui’s real plans for her were.
An hour
passed. Larra had still not found
a way out of her dilemma. Her
bonds had not yielded despite her best
efforts. She shifted her body,
attempting to move to a more comfortable
position. There was something
hard beneath her hip. Twisting
around, she was able to bring her hand into contact with
it. It was the little knife that
Butterfly had given her! Chui
had tossed it on the ground after slashing off her
clothes.
Chui was beginning to
stir. Larra sat up and forced
her free hand behind her back.
Bound at the elbows she had little freedom of movement, but she could
move her arms enough to bring the blade of the knife into contact with the
strip of cloth that bound her. The
sharp blade sliced through the cotton cloth
easily. Larra felt her arms break
free. However, Chui was now sitting
up and looking directly at her.
Larra kept her arms where they were, despite the fact that her prominent
breasts were thrust out before her in a most inviting
manner.
“So White Witch,” Chui
boomed. “I see you already
ready to receive me once again.”
He got to his feet and Larra saw that he was fully erect
again. Despite herself a spasm
of fear flashed across her face.
She knew how cruel that instrument could
be.
Chui did not seem to notice that Larra had
freed herself. He moved toward
her, his massive erection bobbing
slightly. “Yes, White
Witch,” he gloated, “It is time to receive your
punishment. I will ride you like
a lion mounts a lioness. You
will be the bearer of my children.
Together we will make a new race of warriors, taller and stronger
than any others. You will bear
fine children.”
With that, Chui reached down to seize her
hair, intending to drag the helpless woman toward his bloated sex
organ. At that instant Larra
struck. Her left hand darted
out and seized his immense phallus and her right struck with the
knife. It was like cutting through
a tough chunk of salami. The
knife sliced through eight inches of the giant penis, completely severing
it from Chui’s body. For
a brief instant nothing happened and then with an incredible scream of rage
and pain Chui stumbled backwards, clutching at what remained of his sex
organ. Blood spurted in a great
fountain from the severed root of his manhood, showering Larra with
gore. In horror and disgust,
Larra tossed the end of his shriveling penis onto the
ground. Incredibly, Chui stooped
and picked it up and attempted to reattach the severed member, all the while
spraying blood in a wide arc around him.
Then, still grasping the two separated parts of his once huge phallus,
he staggered off into the rainforest, his high pitched shrieks rending the
air. Gradually his cries
diminished as he moved off and he became weaker from loss of
blood. Eventually they ceased
altogether.
Larra watched him go in horror and
relief. She felt sick at what
she had been forced to do, but at the same time felt a certain exaltation
that she had not been completely beaten.
Despite being put through a horrible ordeal that had come close to
breaking her spirit, she had triumphed in the
end.
Larra cut the bonds that held her ankles and
struggled uncertainly to her feet.
Her battle with Chui and her treatment at his hands had left her very
weak and shaken. She found that
she could hardly walk. Her loins
burned with every step. It was
obvious that she was going to be very sore for some
time. Walking slightly bow-legged,
she attended to gathering up her few
possessions. She realized that
she must be quite a sight. Her
naked body was smeared with dried blood and covered with bruises and abrasions
from her battle with Chui.
“This won’t do, Larra,” she
thought ruefully. “It’s
not very ladylike.” Despite
her predicament she managed a grim smile.
She had to get moving, in spite of her weariness and her
injuries. Chui’s tribesmen
might be close at hand.
Within a few minutes, she had managed to replace
her loincloth, and by cutting up Chui’s discarded loincloth, she was
able to once again fashion a crude
halter-top. Picking up her spear,
and tucking the small knife into her waistband, she was ready to move
off. Chui’s water gourd
still had some water in it.
Thirstily she drank what was left and took the gourd with her just
in case she should come across another source of
water.
She moved off through the forest, keeping
to her plan of moving east and downhill.
The trail she was on seemed to be better worn than the one she had
been following. She took this
as a hopeful sign. By now it
was late afternoon and the forest heat was
sweltering. Stinging insects
buzzed about her and she had to step off the path to avoid poisonous snakes
and scorpions on several occasions.
Larra found herself tiring very
quickly. Soon, she was staggering
down the trail, rather than walking.
A heavy rumble forecast the coming of the daily
downpour. Soon huge drops of
rain were splashing down around her.
The storm soon built to a deluge as sheets of rain pounded the
forest. Larra was too tired to
even take shelter. She simply
stood in the middle of the path and let the torrent wash over
her. Opening her mouth she drank
until her belly was swollen. Then
she filled her water gourd simply by holding it in front of
her. The water splashing over
her body seemed to revive her as it washed her clean, rinsing away all traces
of the blood and grime that had covered
her. The storm passed and she
felt cool and refreshed. Now,
however, she was aware of the gnawing of hunger in her
stomach. She was no longer
dehydrated, but she was starving.
The ripe fruit she had been carrying had been lost in the fight with
Chui, and it had totally escaped her mind when she set
off. She needed to eat, and
soon. She also needed a place
to rest. Night was coming and
she needed some place to hole up away from the forest
wildlife.
Suddenly, she smelled
smoke. She must be close to some
sort of village or camp. There
could be no natural fires after the storm that had just
passed. Cautiously, she set off
toward the smell. Within a few
minutes she heard human voices. She
went very carefully now. She
did not want to get caught again.
Slowly she crept through the
forest. Now she was very close
to the sounds of men talking. At
that point, she heard a noise behind her.
She whirled around and found herself confronted by a heavily armed
warrior, but this warrior was carrying a Lee Enfield and it was pointed right
at her! Larra was now aware that
there were other men closing in on her from all
sides. “Oh God,” she
thought, “not again!”
Her head began to
whirl. After all she had been
through to be so easily taken! As
she swayed unsteadily on her feet, waiting for the inevitable attack she
discerned a different sort of shape coming toward
her. This one seemed to be wearing
khaki and his skin seemed white.
She heard a shout: “Allenby, come quick, I think it’s
her!” And then Larra
fainted.
Larra found herself lying on a cot in a white
canvas tent. Someone was holding
something cool on her forehead. She
turned her head and gazed into the eyes of a tanned blue-eyed white
man. He was dressed in hunter’s
garb and he was studying her intently.
“Welcome back
Larra now recognized him as one of the experienced
White hunters she had encountered in
At that point another white man entered the
tent. “Ah,” he exclaimed,
I see sleeping beauty has
awakened.” The first hunter
put his finger to his lips, cautioning the second
man.
“Don’t be facetious, George,”
he said. “It is apparent
that
He turned back to
Larra. “I expect you are
wondering why we are here. We
set out two weeks ago when your boys – or what was left of them –
came hightailing it back into town.
Luckily, George and I were just about to set off on a safari of our
own. It just required a change
of plans and the addition of one or two more armed hunters and we were ready
to go. We never actually dreamed
we would find you though. At
least not this easily. Sheer
luck I guess. Your lucky star
must have been shining on you today.”
“My lucky star!” thought
Larra. It did not seem to her
that she had been especially lucky, but when she thought about it perhaps
she had. She might still be with
Chui – and Chui might still be alive!
She tried to sit up and found that she was
completely nude, covered with only a thin
sheet. She fell back on the cot,
turning a most becoming shade of crimson.
“Sorry about that old girl,” said the first
man. “You seemed quite beaten
up when we found you and it seemed best to clean you up and make you as
comfortable as we could.
We’ll get you some clothes.
I believe that Ponsonby may be closest to your
size.” With that the two
men left the tent. Almost immediately
a black porter entered and continued bathing her
forehead.
Larra gently pushed his arm
away. “Enough thank you,”
she said in Swahili. “Please
get me something to eat.” The
black attendant quickly left the tent.
Larra heard some discussion outside
and then a few minutes later, the attendant was back with a bowl of some
sort of stew. Immediately behind
the first man came a second with a set of
clothes. Although she felt like
upending the food bowl into her mouth, Larra forced herself to dress first,
after waving away the attendants.
Then she sat on the cot and tried to eat in as dignified and ladylike
a manner as she could.
She was about halfway through her meal, when
she heard a tap on the tent post.
“An English voice inquired: “May I come
in?” A few seconds later
a third white man entered the tent.
“Hello,” he said, I’m John
Ponsonby. You have already met
Allenby and Carter. I’m
just checking to see if you need anything
more. We are going to turn
in. We plan to head back to
“Another bowl of stew would be nice,”
replied Larra. “And a
night’s sleep.”
“Righto,” Ponsonby replied, seemingly
very cheerful. “See you
tomorrow then.” At that
he turned and left the tent.
The next day, true to their word the white
hunters broke camp and headed east.
Larra was not allowed to walk, instead she
was carried on a litter by two black
porters. As the expedition made
its way along the trail, the white men walked beside her and made
conversation. Eventually Larra
told most of her story. She left
out the details of the rape, and Chui’s brutal ending, simply stating
that she had somehow managed to get away from
him. There was complete silence
as she finished her recital, but she could see from the countenances of the
men around her that they knew she was holding something
back.
Eventually, Allenby
spoke. “You are to be
congratulated on surviving so grim an
experience. I’m sure I
don’t know what I would do if I was captured by
savages. But what are you going
to do when you get back to
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