The dense undergrowth of the African forest clutched at Aisha's bare skin like greedy fingers, thorns scraping red welts across her dark, sweat-slicked thighs as she stumbled through the shadows. Her heart pounded in her chest, a wild drum echoing the primal fear that had driven her this far, but now exhaustion weighed heavy on her athletic frame. She paused, gasping, her full, heavy tits heaving with each ragged breath, nipples hardened against the cool morning air that carried the earthy scent of damp leaves and distant rain. In that fleeting moment of respite, a flashback sliced through her mind like a blade—memories of her life before, when she had been a free woman in a village by the river, laughing with her sisters under the sun, her body untouched by chains or the leering eyes of strangers. She had been strong then, her piercing eyes reflecting dreams of love and adventure, not this raw survival that left her naked and vulnerable, her pussy throbbing with unfulfilled need from days of isolation, a slickness between her legs that betrayed her body's treacherous desires even in peril.

But the snap of a twig shattered the vision, and Aisha's head whipped around to see the palace scouts emerging from the foliage, their eyes widening with cruel delight at the sight of her. The lead scout, a burly man with tanned skin and a whip coiled at his belt, let out a low whistle, his gaze raking over her form like a predator sizing up prey. "Look at this one," he snarled, his voice thick with mockery, "a wild negro bitch, wandering naked like an animal in heat. Bet her cunt's as black as the night and just as hungry for a real man's cock." Aisha's stomach lurched, but she didn't hesitate—instinct kicked in, and she bolted, her bare feet pounding the soft earth, ass cheeks jiggling with each desperate stride. The scouts gave chase, their laughter echoing through the trees, racial slurs flying like poisoned darts: "Filthy savage," "Useless dark meat," "Gonna break that pussy like the beast she is." She could feel their hot breath closing in, hands grabbing at her, one rough palm slapping against her ass with a sharp crack that made her yelp, fingers digging into the soft flesh and spreading her cheeks apart for a humiliating inspection.

They tackled her to the ground in a frenzy, pinning her down on the mossy earth, her struggles only serving to grind her naked body against their clothed forms. Aisha writhed beneath them, her tits pressed flat against the dirt, nipples scraping painfully as the lead scout—Guard Marcus, she would later learn—straddled her hips, his weight forcing her legs apart. "Hold still, you fucking animal," he growled, his breath reeking of stale ale as he yanked her arms behind her back, binding her wrists with rough ropes that bit into her skin. Another flashback hit her hard, vivid and unbidden: the warmth of her lover's touch years ago, his fingers gently exploring her pussy under the stars, stroking her clit until she moaned, her body arching in ecstasy rather than this forced exposure. Now, as Marcus's free hand roamed over her, squeezing her tits roughly, pinching the dark nipples until they stood erect and throbbing, she felt a mix of rage and unwanted arousal building inside her. "Look at these udders," he jeered to his companions, "made for milking, not for some negro whore's pride. Bet if I finger that sloppy cunt, it'll drip like a faucet." His words were crude, but his actions were worse—he shoved two thick fingers between her legs, plunging them deep into her wet folds without warning, the sudden intrusion stretching her tight entrance and making her gasp, a mix of pain and shameful pleasure rippling through her core.

Aisha's body betrayed her, her pussy clenching around his invading digits as he pumped them in and out with brutal rhythm, the wet squelching sounds echoing obscenely in the quiet forest. "Fuck, she's soaked," Marcus laughed, twisting his fingers inside her, curling them to hit that sensitive spot deep within that made her hips buck involuntarily. "This bitch loves it, doesn't she? Your dirty negro hole is sucking my fingers in like it wants my cock next." She bit her lip to stifle a moan, her mind reeling from the degradation, but the flashback returned, sharper now—her past lover's tongue lapping at her clit, gentle and adoring, contrasting with this raw violation. The other scouts crowded closer, one of them grabbing her hair and yanking her head back, forcing her to look up at their sneering faces. "Gonna make you our little fuck toy," another spat, his hand dropping to grope his own hardening bulge through his trousers. Marcus withdrew his fingers with a lewd pop, holding them up to show the glistening wetness coating them, strings of her arousal stretching between his digits. "Taste that, boys—sweet as any white woman's cream, but from a savage's cunt." He smeared the juices across her lips, making her lick them off involuntarily, the salty tang mixing with the dirt on her face as she endured the humiliation, her inner walls still pulsing from the abrupt emptiness.

They hauled her to her feet then, binding her ankles with more rope to hobble her movements, her naked form on full display as they prepared to transport her. Aisha's legs trembled, her pussy still throbbing from the assault, a trickle of her own wetness sliding down her thigh to mix with the grime. The journey through the forest was a blur of pain and mockery, the scouts shoving her forward with prods from their whips, each step rubbing her swollen clit against the air, heightening the ache between her legs. "March, you worthless cunt," Marcus ordered, landing a sharp smack on her ass that left a red welt, his fingers lingering to probe her rear entrance teasingly. "By the time Lord Viktor gets his hands on you, you'll be begging for a dick in every hole." Racial slurs punctuated every step: "Filthy black slut," "Nothing but a breeding animal," their words stripping away her dignity as effectively as her nudity. Another flashback flickered—her village, the freedom of running through fields, her body her own—but it was drowned out by the crude reality, her mind fracturing under the onslaught. They paused once to rest, forcing her to kneel in the dirt, and Marcus took the opportunity to unzip his trousers, pulling out his thick, veined cock, already leaking precum from the tip. "Open wide, negro whore," he demanded, grabbing her hair and thrusting into her mouth without mercy, the salty head sliding past her lips and hitting the back of her throat, making her gag as he fucked her face with slow, deliberate strokes.

Aisha's world narrowed to the rhythm of his hips, his balls slapping against her chin with each thrust, the musky scent of his arousal filling her nostrils as she choked on his length. "That's it, take it all, you tight-throated bitch," he groaned, his cock throbbing against her tongue, veins pulsing with every inch he forced deeper. Her pussy clenched in response, a humiliating wave of heat building as her body reacted to the degradation, wetness dripping onto the ground beneath her. The other scouts watched, stroking their own cocks through their clothes, murmuring filthy encouragements: "Choke on that white meat," "Bet her cunt's jealous right now." Marcus's pace quickened, his breaths coming in harsh grunts, until he pulled out suddenly, stroking himself furiously and spraying hot ropes of cum across her face and tits, the sticky fluid dripping down her skin in thick, pearlescent strands. Aisha gasped for air, the taste of him lingering on her lips, her own arousal a betraying throb that she couldn't deny, even as tears mixed with his seed. They dragged her onward then, toward the palace and her unknown fate, her spirit already cracking under the weight of their cruelty.

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Shadows of Eternal Servitude