Victoria's Fall

My father was 'holding court' in his office, which was a large room overlooking much of his compound in this small, deserted town. The blinds were down, ostensibly to keep the afternoon sun out of the room, but in reality it was to keep assassins from having the opportunity to avenge themselves upon my father. There were six guards about the room, all well armed and standing as close to attention as soldiers did under my father's command. My father, a large man with a cruel face, was seated behind his massive desk and he grimaced when he saw me arrive. There was a white man seated on either side of him. A large ceiling fan slowly revolved in the center of the ceiling.

I had returned from foreign schools over a year before, intent on killing my father and ridding the world of a great evil. In the end I was too much the coward to do so. But, I was still brave enough to resist every temptation he set before me to become as he was; it was my mother's influence perhaps.

XIII

The two white men were financial supporters of my father. The one on his left was an American whose company wanted access to certain rare minerals in the mountains nearby. He and his company supplied my father with weapons and intelligence in exchange for my father keeping the mines stocked with labourers. The white man on my father's right was well past middle age and was a government representative of a European power. His nation had political interests that currently coincided with my father's, as neither wanted the democratically elected government of this country to actually hold power. So he too supplied my father with weapons and intelligence.

My father pointed at a chair and I sat before him, but at a fair distance from he and his desk.

"So, you see my son before you gentlemen. He is a great failure. The influence of his weak-minded mother, I believe. I sent him to Cairo, to Russia and to schools in Europe to learn what he could and did he come back with military strategies or engineering knowledge to build me better weapons? No. A great failure..." The room remained silent for some time after my father spoke.

"Sometimes the acorn does fall far from the tree, General," replied the American in our language. "Do you have another successor picked out?"

My father scowled at the American. "Of course not! I have a long life ahead of me yet. It was foretold. But I have another plan for my son."

"You have no other children, Shakra? I had thought you quite the lady's man," said the European in French.

I chuckled and was rewarded with an angry look from my father. I had once told him that I believed myself to not be his son as my mother had not been the only woman he had raped and if he had the ability to impregnate women then he should have many children. He had answered me with a beating and then he had shot the two soldiers that had heard me speak.

"No. No other children, my friend. But perhaps I might have some grandchildren."

My blood froze as the thought that perhaps he knew of the handful of women I had slept with while I was away at school. If he managed to get his hands on any of them...

"Bring in the girl!" he barked at a soldier.

The man saluted and opened a closet door. He reached in and pulled out a half-naked white girl. She was pretty with large breasts, long, black hair, dark eyes and a good build. Her only adornments were a crude, leather belt, which supported two pieces of cloth, one covering her ass and one covering her groin, and an odd necklace with a silver chain and a large quartz crystal. I shook my head as she wasn't anyone I remembered.

"My son, Michael, is weak. When my own guards taunt him, he either laughs or taunts them back. If he were strong he would strike them down or shoot them. You can see that he is armed. He will not beat a woman. I've given him some pretty cunts over the last year and he refused to rape even one of them."

Both white men looked at the white girl and then glanced at my father. They didn't mind the idea of him, or I, raping a black woman, but laying hands on a white woman bothered them. Wealth and power granted no freedom from ignorance and racism.

"Michael, this woman is yours. I have worked hard to make her obedient." The guards all snickered. I could well imagine what type of 'lessons' my father had taught this hapless, young woman who fell into his clutches. "She is going to teach you what it means to own a slave. You will learn to see everyone else as slaves."

He turned to the white girl. "M'Gwalla!" The girl turned to face him impassively. "I am your Lord! My son Michael is your Master! You will follow all of his orders except where I have ordered differently! My son will have sex with you every twelve hours or you will kill yourself! Do you understand?"

"Yes, Lord." Her voice was unemotional. I cringed inside at the thoughts of what she had gone through to make her so pliant. And then I remembered some of the things I had actually seen my father do and I realized no cruelty was too cruel, for him.

"General, I'll pay you one million for the girl," said the American nervously.

"So, you like her? She is pretty, isn't she? But she belongs to my son right now. Offer me another price in six months and I may reconsider."

"I'll give you one and a half million, Shakra," said the European in our native language. "I can sell her in Europe for two million, easily."

"I extend the same offer to you, sir. But for now, I must begin my son's training. M'Gwalla! Pleasure my son. Guards, hold him in the chair!"

I was immediately grabbed by two pairs of hands, which held my arms in place and forced me to remain seated in the chair. I struggled against the iron grip of the smiling guards. I didn't realize that M'Gwalla had drawn near to me until I felt her hands upon my pants.

I stared at her in wonder as she unzipped my shorts, reached her hands in and gently drew out my penis. She bent low and I felt her lips kiss and suck.

"Father! This has gone far enough!" I pleaded.

"Why simply try to persuade her to stop, my son. Didn't your learning teach you how to talk to people?" he mocked.

Her hands were pulling on my penis and her mouth was teasing the head. The physical sensations were causing it to harden and rise. I looked about in embarrassment, but there was really no one there who was going to help me.

"Please, Miss. You don't have to do this." She ignored me and continued her efforts to bring me fully erect. She was very gentle with her hands and mouth, perhaps if she had been rough and businesslike I would have been able to exert my will properly, but I found I could not. Soon her head was bobbing and the sensations I was feeling made it hard to remember the situation around us.

"Please, Miss," I whispered, "we don't have to do this. I'll make sure my father doesn't kill you for disobeying him." But I knew as soon as I said it that I was lying. My father would indeed kill her for disobeying him, especially in front of the white men and his own soldiers.

Far sooner than I liked, she brought me to full erection and as much as I didn't want this to proceed, a part of me did. M'Gwalla gave my cock a lick from base to tip and then rose to her feet. She lifted her loin cloth, showing me a patch of dark hair, and then shuffled forward so she could straddle me.

I didn't know what to say or do. She slowly lowered herself down on to me, while guiding me in to her wet pussy. Once I was fully immersed in her she shuddered and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. Her breasts were pressed against my thin shirt and I felt her nipples hardening against my chest.

It was her signs of excitement that convinced me that perhaps she was not as unwilling a participant as I had thought. The contraction of her vagina around my erection made me close my eyes and kiss the side of her head. She slowly lifted herself and then lowered herself, adding the wonderful sensation of friction to all those I was currently experiencing. I moaned, knowing that it would not be long before I came inside of her.

She, too, seemed to be close to orgasm. She gasped and then bounced upon my lap as her breathing accelerated. Her face turned to mine and I kissed her full lips. The kiss was difficult to maintain with the speed of the bounces and then I felt that incredible release as I came into her pussy. She continued to bounce for a few more seconds until she also came with great gasps.

And then she simply stepped off of me and stood, all trace of orgasmic bliss gone from her face.

"Clean him with your mouth, M'Gwalla," ordered my father.

She obediently bent down and began licking all traces of semen from my softening cock. I wondered what kind of woman could be so excited at the prospect of being a slave and then find herself here, under the spell of my father. After a minute, the girl pushed my penis back into my shorts and zipped me up again.

"So you see the power I have son? I have learned to make other people into perfect slaves. Take this girl back to your room and do with her as you see fit. She will neither complain, nor fight, nor argue. She is the perfect woman now."

I ground my teeth. The soldiers released me and I stood, anger consuming all other sensations. I scowled at the two who had held my arms and they smiled back at me, understanding completely how impotent my rage was. I glanced at M'Gwalla and then walked to the door.

"Michael!" I turned and looked back at my father. "If I have to order her to follow you, then she will follow you everywhere no matter what you say. If you order her to follow you, she will leave you alone when you wish it."

The guards laughed.

"M'Gwalla? Come with me, please." And I walked out of the room, hoping the girl would not follow me. But she did, walking silently on her bare feet.

XIV

When we reached my room I headed for the bathroom and she, in all innocence, followed me. I sighed. I wiped my face and neck with some water from the tap and then stared into the mirror.

"Why do you follow me into here?"

"You said I was to come with you," she replied in her monotone voice.

"I don't want..." I leaned over to her and sniffed. "When was the last time you bathed?"

"I was bathed three weeks ago, Master."

"Call me Michael. Why don't you have a bath now?"

"Because you have not ordered me to do so, Master."

My mouth dropped open. Could she have misunderstood the question? She spoke with an accent and I thought it was an American accent. I repeated the question in English in case that was her native language, but her response was identical.

"M'Gwalla. Have a bath, please."

She immediately set about readying the bath tub for her own use. When she dropped her loincloth I hurried out of the room, embarrassed. I waited on the bed, lying on my back while pondering this unexpected situation. I could hear her in the bath tub, water splashed, but there was no humming, singing or chatter that I had come to expect from a woman having a bath.

Too soon, the water was drained from the tub. I walked over to ask her why she had not taken advantage of the water for a few minutes longer, but saw she was already drying herself off. I also noticed her necklace was wet. Why had she not taken the odd piece of jewellery off for her bath, I wondered?

I went back to the bed, lying down again and tried to put the pieces of this puzzle together in my head. She was clearly not from anywhere near here as her English was spoken with a combination of an American and perhaps an Irish or Scottish accent. M'Gwalla was not likely to be her real name. She was beautiful. She didn't seem frightened of my father or myself. I could understand her not being frightened of me, but my father?

She walked quietly out of the bathroom and stood beside the bed, waiting.

"M'Gwalla, why are you not afraid of my father?"

She didn't answer. She didn't seem stupid, but perhaps something had happened to her that affected her reason, I thought. Then I recalled that she had been in my father's clutches for who knows how long.

"M'Gwalla, are you afraid of my father?"

"Yes."

"You don't show it." I waited but there was no response. I cursed myself for a fool as I remembered I had not asked her a question and she only seemed to speak to answer questions.

"Why don't you show it?"

"I have not been told to."

A chill ran up my spine. How could my father have ever gained such power over another human being? What had he done to this poor girl that made her behave in such a way? She had no will of her own.

"M'Gwalla, what is your real name?"

"M'Gwalla."

"What name were you born under?"

She stared at me for a few seconds. "I don't know, Master."

"I told you to call me Michael."

She was silent.

"Will you call me Michael?"

"No, Master."

"Why?"

"Because Lord Shakra has told me to call you Master."

"But he isn't here and he will never find out. I will not tell him and I hate him. Call me Michael."

She was silent. Clearly, the orders my father had given her would be followed without question. If he had done this to a woman, it was only a matter of time before he could do this to soldiers and then he would have an unquestionably loyal army who would throw their lives away at his command. I thought about walking up to my father, pulling out my gun and...I knew I was too much of a coward to do so. I was no killer.

I decided to see what I could learn about this poor girl. "M'Gwalla, who first named you M'Gwalla?"

"Lord Shakra."

"What were you called before he named you?"

She was silent. I waited hopefully, but she did not answer. "Has my father ordered you to forget who you were before he met you?"

"Yes."

I groaned in exasperation. Even if I could somehow get this girl away from here and back to her family, whoever they were, she would be irreparably damaged. I sat up, with the sudden realization that she must be tired standing there.

"Have a seat, M'Gwalla."

She sat down beside me on the bed and stared out into empty space. Her stomach grumbled.

"Are you hungry?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"You didn't tell me to, Master."

"Go get yourself something to eat. There is fruit on the table there, you stupid girl," I ordered her harshly. Then I felt ashamed, as I remembered she was behaving like this because of something my father had done to her. Unabashed, M'Gwalla had risen from the bed, walked over to the table and was now eating hungrily.

"Use the washroom whenever you need to, M'Gwalla. If you are hungry, please tell me and I will get food for you." I had nightmare visions of her completely vulnerable, unable to say no and walking amongst my father's soldiers looking for food.

For the rest of the day, I hounded her with the same questions over and over again, trying to find out who she was and where she came from. It was no use. She could not answer those questions and as I finally gave up and started eating my cold dinner, I wondered how I was ever going to get out of this situation.

It took me a few mouthfuls to realize that my plate had extra food on it. I looked at M'Gwalla and thought that she must be hungry by this time. Why had she said nothing?

"M'Gwalla, are you hungry?"

"Yes, Master."

"Here take my plate and eat your fill." It wouldn't bother me to go hungry if it meant this poor girl was able to get some badly needed sustenance. I could see her ribs. Then I remembered that she had told me that she was hungry and I had been so fixed on seeking answers to my questions that I had ignored her.

"I am sorry, M'Gwalla. I didn't listen when you told me you were hungry." She wolfed down the food, evidently not concerned that I would be upset about her eating my dinner. "I will try to take better care of you."

XV

The room was pitch black and I could hear insects buzzing outside. Something had woken me. I had felt something brush against me. Suddenly I tensed and listened intently. Could there be a snake or scorpion in the room? I looked about fearfully. A shadow passed across me and I realized there was something in the window.

I sat up on the hard floor and turned to look at the window. I could make out a human form climbing out over the sill. Now who could that be, I wondered. And then I remembered M'Gwalla.

I reached up to the bed and didn't feel her. I jumped for the window and grabbed at her as she was standing up on the ledge just outside the window. I pulled her back in with all my strength. She didn't duck and her head cracked against the top of the window frame. She went momentarily limp and I pulled her back in.

I cradled her in my arms and cursed myself again. I had been a fool. I should have realized that she might think me the same as my father. It was only natural that she would try to kill herself once she thought I was off my guard.

She murmured dazedly, as I lifted her up and carried her slowly to the bed. I set her down while whispering soothing words. Her eyes opened and she tried to push me away.

"It's okay, M'Gwalla. I am not going to hurt you. I'm not like my father. I want to get you out of here and back to your own people. Please relax and we can come up with a plan so you don't have to kill yourself."

She continued to try to push me away. I thought she had just been through too much and had finally given in.

"M'Gwalla, please tell me why you are trying to kill yourself."

"Because Lord Shakra ordered me to," she said in a deathly calm voice as she stopped struggling with me.

"Do you want to die?"

"No."

And then the time occurred to me. As I held her down on the bed, I looked over my shoulder and saw that it was almost exactly twelve hours after my father had given me this girl. I looked back into her face with horror and she looked back at me with no emotion.

"Were you really going to kill yourself because it has been twelve hours and I have not had sex with you?"

"Yes."

My heart seemed to stop beating. I know there are men out there who would think this some kind of glorious sexual fantasy, but all I could think was this poor, poor girl who looked just a couple of years younger than I.

"What can I do to stop you from killing yourself?"

"Have sex with me."

"What if I tie you up, M'Gwalla?"

"I will find a way to kill myself."

"Do you really want to die?" I asked, pleading.

"No."

I let out a great sigh. "Okay, M'Gwalla, my father wins again. I will have sex with you." I released her arms and she sat up in the bed.

But now the problem was that I wasn't in the mood. We faced each other a short distance apart and her breasts were heaving, as she was still breathing heavily from her exertion. There was a subtle sweet odour, which I assumed was her natural scent. But how could I get in the correct frame of mind, and quickly, to do what I needed to do to save her life?

"Is there any chance that having sex with me will bring you some pleasure?"

"Yes."

"Wait a minute. Despite all the terrible things that have been done to you, you can still find some pleasure in sex?"

"Yes."

I thought I could concentrate on the fact that I was making up for some of the tortures she had undergone at my father's hands. I touched the swelling bump on her forehead and winced, just as she did at my careless touch.

"Sorry," I apologized pitifully. "Does it hurt?"

"Yes."

I dropped my eyes down to her full breasts. I reached out and cupped one. It was soft, round and felt warm in my hand. My thumb ran across the nipple and it rose slightly, drawing forth a small, quick breath from her. But I wasn't rising.

"I think I need you to...I think we need to work together to get me to rise to the job. Do you understand, M'Gwalla?"

"Yes."

She reached out with her hands and undid my zipper and belt. I stood and dropped my shorts to the floor, along with my boxers. Then I sat back down on the bed. M'Gwalla shifted her position so that she was sitting beside me. Her fine hands caressed my penis, tenderly teasing the tip and occasionally pulling on the shaft as if to lengthen it.