White Man Haunted by Evil Spirits Part 2

Queenies Rules

I drove home slowly through the countryside reflecting on how I got into this terrible situation. In the 1980’s I came to South Africa, it was still the time of Apartheid, and I bought a small farm in Bophuthatswana. We were just a few white Farmers there but during the independence battle and the rise of the ANC, many white farmers gave up and left the country. I stayed behind in the village because it became my family home.

When Nelson Mandela came to power, I even married the daughter of a very prominent and influential African community leader. She was a beautiful, educated, and open-minded African woman. She moved to my little farm, and we started a family. We were happy, she was a loving and caring mother and wife.

Over the years when the children were going to boarding school, she was getting bored and didn’t’ know what to do with herself. She slowly changed from that caring wife to a spoilt queen. She became respectless and demanding and I could not find anything anymore to make her happy. I was busy working on the farm six days a week and she was staying in the house trying to kill time. An idle mind is the devil’s playground!

When I came home one evening from work, I realized straight away that she was very angry looking for a fight. I don’t like arguing, I am more of a quiet person who looks for harmony and peace.

“You bastard cheated on me with the cheap bitch from the groceries store! Don’t deny it, I heard it and I have proof. How can you be so brazen and disrespectful to me, having an affair with a fat ugly married mother and then always pretending to me that you are my loving and caring husband?

Even my best friend who found out about your disgusting affair can’t believe that you are doing this to me and yourself. You are a respected man in this community, and I am a respected woman here, the daughter of a Chief. I should be treated like a queen and not like a deceived wife of an ugly, pale white man. I will make you pay for that! You can bet your life on that,” she fumed.

These accusations hit me like a train. I was shocked and couldn’t say a word.

“It is true, isn’t it?” She came straight to me and spat me into the face. “You bastard, I will show you what we do here in Africa to devious men like you.” She slapped me multiple times in the face with all her strength, screaming and spitting like an angry dragon.

“My dear it is not like you think it is, don’t believe everything you hear” I stumbled in reply. “Let us sit down and speak about it in a civilized manner, please”, I begged.

“You want to tell me I am not civilized, you are running around like a salacious dog, jumping on any twerking ass. When the community finds out, you will be a dead man, and no one will care about you” she continued yelling.

“Yes, I guess I know which person you are talking about, but it is not like you think it is. You know I am a humble man and I like to make some small talk, that is all,” I tried to defend myself.

“Small talk? I make some big small talk for you right now. You are no more my husband; you are demoted to my house servant. Do you understand?! If you won’t comply you will leave this miserable small farm like a scabby old dog. Do you get me?!”

I was lost and remembered the saying ‘What comes around goes around. My time as the head of the family was gone. I nodded in devotion, knowing I had no other choice right now.

“Bring me some food from the kitchen right now and serve it for me. From now on I will sit on that big armchair of yours and you take the wooden stool in the corner. Hurry up I am hungry,” she yelled.

I went to the kitchen and prepared some food. I was devastated and didn’t know yet how to get out of this misery.

I served her some food on a tray. “You have to improve your cooking skills; this food is dry and tasteless. Bring me some wine, a Shiraz, no stop the occasion calls for a ‘Royal Nymphomane 1993 La Vierge’. You know where to find it. You can get yourself a glass of water”.

I went to the storeroom and looked for the bottle of wine. Glass of water, no way! I poured myself a big glass of Vodka to soothe the pain and frustrations.

She drank her wine showing the delight and pleasure she had at her new rule as the Grand Queen of the house. I drank the vodka and felt the numbing effect of the alcohol.

“The wine is finished. Bring me a new one. The Shiraz will do now. You can have another glass of water,” Queenie ordered. The evening continued like this for about an hour until the queen herself got visibly drunk.

“So, my dirty rotten dog, come here. Dogs have sharp noses, especially white dogs like you. Do you see my pussy? I will mark this place for me now. Come here and put your face into my pussy and drink all the wine I have digested. It looks like a Sauvignon Blanc, just a little bit shale. Don’t spill anything,” Queenie commanded with an increasing lust to humiliate me.

She sat enthroned on the big armchair, and I kneeled in front of her. She started to piss on me slowly and became louder in talking. “Yes, my dog, this is nice. Isn’t it? You will drink this digested wine now every day and don’t spill anything you stupid dog,” she yelled at me and slapped my face. “You deserve every drop of it, that is your dog food hahahah, come on there is some more, and don’t spoil anything. In the morning you will have the Late Harvest, hahahahaha.”

She had a lot of piss and even more vulgar words for me. “So now show me how you lick the ass of that fat bitch you stupid stooge.” She turned around and showed me her anus. “Lick it fast and intense, give your best otherwise I will shit in your face, and you have to clean and eat up the mess.”

‘Ohh my god please not’ I prayed to myself. She stinks terribly when she is on the toilet. I thought differently when I was still in love with her but now that is a horrible punishment for me. Now it is a disgusting prospect! So, I licked her ass with utmost vigor and pretended to have a passion for her private parts, but that time was long gone.

“Come on dog, you can do better” she shouted at me starting to move her ass like crazy against my mouth. I could see she enjoyed being in charge of me. Her pussy and anus started to get wet, and the liquid was dropping out of both holes.

“Come on work harder, I want to climax. If you can’t make me come, I will shit in your face. Come on put your tongue deep inside my poophole,” she threatened me.

I worked very hard fearing she would make her threats come true. I licked her like mad and could hardly breathe. Now she even started to fart, it smelled like hell, but I continued. Now came another fart, slightly wet. I licked and licked faster and more intensely since I could somehow anticipate that she was just about to get an orgasm.

Then it finally happened; she reached a climax. Her body was shaking with convulsions. Not only Queenie was relieved! I still kneeled in front of her and panted like an exhausted dog.

“Well done you dirty dog. Let us see if you can do as well next night. Today you have been a good dog,” she said scornfully and padded my head. “Now bring me some more wine otherwise I have not enough late harvest for your breakfast drink. You must be ready and strong for work tomorrow. You must bring more money home; I need more money from you!”

“Now let us go to sleep. I show you your resting place”. We went to the bedroom, and she gave me a dog collar, one of these new ones with an electric remote-control closure. “Put it around your neck and fasten these handcuffs to the loop of the chain. I will lock you now to this sturdy bedpost; I don’t want you to leave your rightful place. You will sleep on this old blanket in front of the bed. But wait, first I have to put my mark on the blanket.”

She started again to piss and spit all over the blanket and she used her feet to spread the liquids evenly. “Now comes the cherry on top,” she proclaimed and produced some poop she extracted from her asshole with her finger. She smeared the ‘cherry’ on my dirty blanket. “Good night dog, sweet dreams,” Queenie whispered and fell asleep.

I could hardly sleep this night and wondered how the hell I could fall so unprepared and so suddenly into such a deep hole. How could she have possibly found out about my secret affair? I had no clues since my meetings with Kamari were kept very secret I believed.

At six in the morning, we woke up as usual but this time it was me on the hard smelly floor and she was in the warm and comfortable King size bed. “Go to the kitchen and prepare me some breakfast, quick you lazy bastard. I want baked beans, beacons, eggs, and toast with coffee. You can eat the leftovers from last night,” she ordered and operated the remote control at the other side of the bed where I used to sleep and released my collar.

I came back from the kitchen with the freshly prepared English Breakfast and my bowel with dry mealiepap and cabbage from yesterday. After she finished her meal licking her fingers clean, she asked. “Give me your glass for the Late Harvest wine. You deserve a stimulating drink now.”

She filled up the glass with delightful pleasure and handed it to me. “Cheers enjoy it, I still have a few more refills.” I drank the glass, it tasted like horrible strong piss, salty and shale. “Hurry up I still have pressure there is plenty more Late Harvest for you before you go to work.” I had to consume three and a half glasses of disgusting dark yellow urine and felt like puking, but I restrained myself.

“So, my dear” Queenie replied, “never mix your private life with your work and our social life here in the community. Once we get out of the house, we will continue as before. You go to work and make money, and on the weekend, we will go to all our social engagements as before. We will go to church on Sunday and sit as usual in the first row. In public, we will pretend as if we are a happily married couple. Do you get it? Now get dressed and go to work, I need more money, I am a Queen who deserves more luxury!”

As hard as it sounded, we did exactly this, no one should and could realize that something was not right between us. I went to work every morning managing the farm and the people still called me the baas (Boss). In town, they still addressed me with ‘Ntate’ or ‘Morena’ meaning father or chief. My estranged wife still pretended to be my loving and supporting wife, in restaurants we still ate together with friends and family and seemed to be as united and happy as ever. This situation was slowly grinding me down, but I kept in there because I still didn’t have a choice.

Back at home, I was facing the same misery as described, and it was getting worse by the day. My wicked wife seemed to enjoy her new role as the absolute ruler and Queen of the house and became more and more innovative and devious in the ways she denounced and punished me.

Voodoo Muthi

The pinnacle was last Sunday when we went to church together. The theme of the sermon was ‘values of family life and the respect for one another. We were sitting as usual in the first row, and she always tried to show the priest how much she loved and respected the words of his sermon and how stringently she was following them. This sheep in a wolf's skin made me boil with hate and anger but I was not supposed to show.

When we left the church singing and dancing with the blessings of the priest she suddenly shouted, “look at this woman over there, isn’t she the bitch from the groceries store, she even came alone without her husband. Now I will face her! I think she is stalking you or she wants you or she wants to annoy me. Let us find out now”, she fumed with fury in her voice.

“Please do not make a scene, we are at church”, I pleaded with her, but she didn’t listen. “Hello, mam are you not working in the groceries store? I always wanted to talk to you. As you know we have just brought in our new harvest, and I wonder if you could sell some at the store. I see you came alone today. Wouldn’t you like to come shortly over to us, then you can already inspect our harvest?”

She was stunned by Queenie's approach and tried to look at me to get an appropriate answer. I just shrugged my shoulders and tried not to give attention to her. “Just come with us for a short afternoon tea, it might be worthwhile for you” she suggested. Since I didn’t object visibly, she agreed, and we went home together to the farm after church not knowing that we went straight into the lion’s den.

“Have a seat my dear and make yourself comfortable, I will just go to the kitchen and prepare some tea for us. I am sure my husband will explain to you a bit about our latest harvest. I will be back in a minute”.

I was caught off guard again and didn’t know how to explain the situation. “Does she know anything about us?” Kamari asks me surprised. “It is impossible from my side, I never told anybody about us, or did you?”

“No! Of course, not” I assured her “but I think she is suspecting something. She recently told me that her best friend was getting proof that we have an affair. I denied it but she didn’t seem to believe it. Did you tell anyone about our secret affair? If not, how could she possibly know?” I questioned Kamari.

“I don’t know anything. Honestly, I have no idea. I am even more scared my husband could find out about it. He would kill me” she replied with a shiver in her voice.

“Please be strong Kamari, this woman is evil, she is obsessed by the devil. Whatever will happen today, please promise to trust me, as I will trust you. Please this must be an unconditional promise because I know she seems to be bewitched and she can do very bad evil things. Do you promise?” I requested her

“Yes, I do promise” she replied. At this moment my estranged wife came back smiling with tea and biscuits on a tray.

“It is Sunday, and the servants are out. They always leave a mess in the kitchen, and I do not find my things anymore but luckily, I managed to get something. Did my husband brief you already on what we want to discuss?

My darling please hand her a cup of tea and some biscuits. Here is yours. I will sit over there on the stool.” She was very good at small talk and pretended to be a loving caring angel. She praised me for being such a hard-working darling and taking so much care of the family. She talked about our children how well they were doing, and all the community work she was involved in and how much she loves me and so on and on and on...until we suddenly got very tired and fell asleep.

When we both woke up, we found ourselves naked and handcuffed together. We were completely defenseless looking at each other in disbelief. Suddenly we saw Queenie sitting on the big armchair dressed up in traditional African clothes with a lot of beaded jewelry and a crown on her head, a whip in her left hand, and a glass of wine in her right hand. She lit some candles and an intensive smell of dried herbs was in the whole room.

“So, who do we have here? Two repenting sinners who want to beg me for forgiveness. You can start your plead of mitigation now. You might be lucky and succeed since I am in a joyous celebration mood. The church had blessed me today with the opportunity of reckoning. Adultery is a serious offense and I have been given the divine powers to decide over your fate. Today is Judgement Day,” Queenie preached.

She started walking up and down in the room while talking and drinking constantly. The wine seemed to inspire her vicious spirits. She took some branches from the dry herbs and lighted them at a candle. An intense smoky smell covered the whole room. We were still lying naked and helplessly handcuffed together on the floor. “Smell the herbs they might cleanse you from your sins.” She put the glimmering herbs in front of our faces and stroke our naked bodies with them. It was painful and scary.

Now she took her whip and lowly started to lash us. “I will chase the evil spirits out from both of you. You should be grateful! I have been given the divine powers to cleanse you. Say thank you divine Queenie! I don’t hear anything; say thank you divine Queenie, speak up.”

We kept quiet and were scared to death. “I guess you need some more cleansing until you are grateful.” She stepped over us and started to release gushes of piss. “This might help you to become grateful. I have been told by my ancestors that only I can be the savior of your misery. I have been chosen to do the job and I will do everything necessary to please my ancestors!”

She got back to the armchair and poured some more wine. I could see her getting drunk slowly and when she gets drunk, she can become an evil monster.

“So, you two dirty dogs I want to see how you fuck each other. Start kissing her passionately Werner. I want to see you getting an erection. Kiss your bitch. Kiss her!” she shouted and lashed us with her whip. We had no choice and started to kiss, still handcuffed.

“Are you already getting an erection? Yes, I see it’s coming up. Continue, don’t stop. I want to get another drink from the kitchen”.

She left us alone for a short while and I said to Kamari,” we have to make a plan, but what can we do, the more drunk she gets the weirder and unpredictable becomes her behavior.”

“I know the smell of these herbs” Kamari stumbles, “I smelled them at the grocery shop some time ago. Someone must have left them in the shop to give me an evil Muhti. I bet it was her Muthi, exactly this Muthi she is using on us now”. What shall we do now?” She begged me for an answer, and I replied, “Let us play her game and we just wait for our chance,” I suggested. “Okay I trust you. Let us do it this way,” Kamari agreed.

Just at this moment, she came back with a new bottle of wine in her hand and a bag with something inside. “Are you ready to rumble? Enough time for soft porn. Now I want some action. Fuck her, fuck her good. I bet you have plenty of power bottled up in your balls since you didn’t fuck me for months. Start my show!”

She got back into the armchair. We started to make love slowly. It felt really good to be inside the women I loved. It seemed to give me strength again, I was feeling a little bit better. Kamari also enjoyed the intimate connection, but we were still scared to death. Kamari started to moan slightly, and her soft pussy became wet and responsive.

“That is boring what are you doing there. You act like some turtledoves in love. I want some real action!” she demanded. “Okay stooge, I will replace your handcuffs with your dog collar, but that bitch in heat stays as she is.”

She removed my handcuffs and put on the neck collar with the leach. “Now there are no more excuses, start fucking her good.” I did as she commanded since I felt sorry for Kamari and wanted to get her out of this terrible situation. My erection got stronger, and I got onto my knees, grabbed her thighs, and started to rumble.

“Make it faster you lazy dog, I want to see some action. Yes, I see, now my dog is in heat, that is better” she applauded and consumed more wine. Kamari was also somehow able to comply. Now Queenie used her whip and lashed me while I was fucking her doggy style. “Yes, fuck her harder, I will whip you until I have seen enough and don’t dare you to come. If you come early, I will force-feed you both with my poop!” That was a stern warning, and I knew she could do it. I hated her terrible disgusting smell.

“Okay, that was good for part one of the show. You can relax a bit,” she said after about ten minutes. “Now put your face into that fat ugly wobbling ass of your ‘Nyatsi’ (African word for parallel sexual partners). Lick it good and fast the way you have to do it to me every night. Start now, and don’t waste any time. I want to take some pictures for my memory album.”

She took her cell phone and started filming. “If you have any nonsense in your mind, don’t even think about it, I will put the film on social media”. She took her whip again and lashed us both, she was getting into a furious frenzy.

“Now you cheap bitch start pissing on your stupid man, I am sure he likes your smelly liquids more than my royal champaign. Do you know that you smell bad? Your smell like a dirty wet dog. Disgusting!. How can someone find that exciting? Start pissing into his mouth. The show must go on!”

She did give me her yellow juice and this one was not disgusting. For me, it was like Red Bull.

“Okay enough, stop. I don’t want to see that man drowning. Now shit in his mouth!” Queenie commanded.

“I can’t, I have already been to the toilet this morning,” Kamari replied.

“I don’t want to hear these whimpering, I want to hear a confident ‘Yes Madam’. Shall I help you to poop on that bastard?” She took an enema syringe from the bag and filled it with red wine.

“Here you go my stupid stooge; squeeze it into her ass and when you have finished, I will give you a second one. Never complain again that I let you die of thirst”.

I took the syringe and squeezed the red wine into her ass twice. It was nearly a complete bottle of Merlot wine.

“All right I think that will do the trick. Put your face into her smelly ugly ass and show me how you enjoy the treat. I will take photos and record this Kodak moment. It will become an Internet hit”.

I knew it, the drunker she got, the weirder became her fantasies and actions. I did again as she ordered and tickled her ass with my tongue. After a few seconds, the first fountain of red wine shot out of her anus. It was an extra dry Merlot with some small lumps, it was drinkable. The next gush contained bigger lumps; it was still drinkable. During the third gush, the taste of the Merlot was not the dominant taste anymore but since I loved this woman it was not difficult to consume the cocktail. After the fourth gush my mission was accomplished, and I even felt the relaxing effect of the alcohol from the bottle of dry Merlot wine.

“I have it all on camera; Werner you are a dirty dog and it looks to me like you even enjoyed it. Buahhh disgusting. Look at her and look at me. What you have is an ugly fat rural bitch, but you could have had an attractive, educated lady of royal descent like me. One always gets what one deserves,” she continued accusing me and praising herself.

I could realize her voice was babbling more and more from the wine. “I am getting bored I need some more action. Where is my wine?” She got herself a refill and poured it down like water.

Suddenly she just collapsed. She was stone drunk. Now all three of us were incapacitated. Kamari was handcuffed, I was still on the leash and Queenie was snoring.

“That is our chance”, I whispered to Kamari, “try to crawl to the bedroom. On the bedside table should be the remote control to release the collar. Try to get it quick.”

She found it as well as the key for the handcuffs and we managed to free ourselves. “Now what next?” Kamari asked, “first we have to handcuff Queenie, get her cell phone, and get dressed,” I decided quick.

We worked together fast like a well-coordinated team. I got the cell phone and found the recordings. “Make sure you erase all the pictures from the phone before we destroy it” Kamari pleaded. “I will do that, but before I will send a copy of the recordings to my phone. Perhaps we can use it somehow later.”

After a few minutes, we were dressed up and sat at the table. “I have a feeling Queenie was not doing this job alone. She must have support from an evil Sangoma or other bad people wanting to hurt us. Looking at all the herbs she is using here, and in the bedroom, I even saw a small container with crushed herbs inside. I know this smell; it was once in my shop.” Kamari explained, “we have to try to beat her with her own weapons. We will take her herbs, mix them, and force her to eat them; let’s start!”

I went to the kitchen to collect the necessary utensils and also found the sleeping tablets she crushed to serve in our tea. “I will give her the sleeping tablets and you work with the herbs. How will you administer the herbs to her while she is drunk and asleep like this?” Kamari was thinking for a while and replied, “we can put the mixture into the enema syringe, I have seen that before in our village, it might work. Let’s get started”.

I forced the crushed sleeping tablets into her mouth and Kamari administered the herbal mixture with the enema syringe. “Let us clean up everything and put her back on the armchair. We can remove the handcuffs and when she wakes up, she will have a mental blackout. I will also put the phone next to her”.

We did the job quickly together and when we left the house it was already dark outside. “Ohh god what am I going to tell my husband when I come home so late?” She asked with a worrying tone.

“Tell him you have been attacked by thugs and you have been unconscious for some time and now you can’t remember anything. I will drive you to your village. Here is my phone number and you contact me when you are prepared to talk to me,” that was our plan for now.

A New Day

Afterward, I was driving home and saw Queenie fast asleep snoring on the chair. I went to the bedroom and looked at the videos she was recording. They were disgusting. I made a recording of Queenies' sound only and sent the voice recording to her phone. The Videos I stored in the cloud and tried to find some rest.

At six in the morning, I woke up and got ready for work. Queenie was still sleeping in the chair drooling from her mouth but still breathing. I did not pity that wrecked woman. I somehow felt like a free man again and started my daily routine on the farm.

At lunchtime, Kamari called me and asked if we could talk shortly in the afternoon. We agreed upon a time and place to meet. I was anxious to know what happened at her home last night.

She was waiting for me at the agreed place and got into my car. We drove quickly to a secluded location, where she fell straight away into my arms and kept me very tight. “I am very scared of what happened yesterday. I am still trembling and couldn’t sleep at night. My husband came home drunk late at night, and he demanded sex. He was just too drunk and talked stupid unimportant things. I let him do his job and imagined it was you fucking me. After he was done, he fell asleep instantly and I had some time to think,” Kamari reported in a trembling voice still holding tight onto me.

“We are in a very dangerous situation,” she stumbled, “She was giving you very bad Muthi and, only by luck we got somehow away for now. You must also see a Sangoma with very strong Muthi and experience to cleanse you from the Muthi she gave you. You know I have got a friend knowing a very good Sangoma in a village about two hours away from here. She already talked to her, and the Sangoma is prepared to help you. You can go there already tomorrow. Please go there, I beg you,” Kamari pleaded.

“I shall see an African Sangoma?! I thought they can only help African people. I am pure white,” I tried to argue.

“But you are living here with us, and our ancestors can also connect to you, I was told. Please go there. The medicines don’t taste nice at all, and the treatment methods can also be quite strange and painful at times, but I trust it will also work for you and us,” she tried to persuade me to go there tomorrow.

“Okay, last night we promised unconditional trust for each other to get out of this wicked situation. I will go there tomorrow.

By the way, Queenie was still fast asleep when I left this morning. I bet she will have a terrible hangover right now,” I replied with a grin on my face.

“I bet she has,” Kamari replied also grinning, “all that wine, the sleeping powder, and the herbs we administered to her will have tamed her bad spirits for a few days, but we have to be vigilant. We must fight the evil spirits and we must win, otherwise, we are doomed. These kinds of fights produce only winners or losers, no draws,” she manifested.

We now drove back to our respective homes and when I entered my house, I found Queenie looking like a scarecrow. She just looked at me with spiteful eyes, still unable to talk properly. “I have to go for a short business trip tomorrow morning, so you have time to recover from your ‘Babalas’ (Afrikaans word for hangover). I will sleep in the office tonight; I must prepare some paperwork for my meeting tomorrow, good night,” I told her and left the house.

Sangoma Meal

On the way home from my meeting with the Sangoma, I decided to buy a small CCTV camera for our Livingroom. I found a modern wireless camera and the salesperson showed me how to connect it to my cell phone for recording.

Two days later when Queenie was gone for a social meeting, I conceal the CCTV camera in the bookshelf. In the kitchen, I prepared some meatballs according to the instructions of the Sangoma and stored them inside the fridge. Now I just had to wait, hoping she will eat them. She didn’t trust my cooking anymore and I knew that she likes the meatballs prepared by the maid.

On Saturdays, I like to go to Bloemfontein with friends to watch a ball game. Rugby is the main sport within the region I am living, and the Cheetahs are our team. It was a long time ago when I last joined the guys for a match, but since I had freed myself of the mental and physical shackles from Queenie, I could return to my normal routines.

Already on the way to the match, I saw on my phone that Queenie had invited two friends over and I started to press the record button. The weekend had a promising start and I hoped everything will go according to plan. The Cheetahs had a good day and beat the Pretoria Bulls in an exciting match.

Back home in the evening, I went straight to my office to watch the recording. This one turned out to be an even more eventful match. The three ladies sat together drinking wine and gossiping badly about their men. The first woman, I think it’s Queenies best friend bragged how she had her man under complete control.

“The Muthi I got from our Sangoma is working perfectly for me. That stupid fool, who calls himself my husband, is completely under my control. I must just snap my fingers and he is at my service. He is getting the punishment he deserves. I have cut his wings; he is no more able to see his Nyatsi. His manhood is gone, he can’t get it up anymore.

I have employed a new gardener, a young, handsome strong man. He comes very early to work and when I wake up at about ten o’clock in the morning everything looks nice and tidy outside. As a reward, I occasionally ask him inside, and we have breakfast together. He is a polite strong man with good manners and a well-equipped toolbox.

Yesterday I promised him a small financial booster since he wants to go with his friends to support the Bloemfontein Celtic soccer team. He knows that nothing is for Mahala (free of charge) from me. He always delivers when I ask him; he did me very well in the morning. When I open the zip of his overall his screwdriver jumps out and points straight towards me. I am sure his cock likes me much more than his stupid wife.

He stands in front of me like a statue and I can see how his cock is throbbing in anticipation to start to work for me. After about five minutes I have mercy with him and show him my garden where he shall plow. Yesterday I gave him exact procedural instructions.

Start placing me onto the dining table and let your spade dig deep until you find my g-spot. Work hard until my garden is nicely watered. Then you lift me with your strong hands and start rocking me while I cling myself to you.

He is a very strong man able to rock me standing until I squirt.

When you are done with the second round, you must check my backyard. There is a lot of work to do today since you have neglected this yard recently. I want you to create a good space inside and clear it of the spider webs which came up last week.

This is the job he likes most, he does it so thoroughly and energetic that I can only let him do it once a week. His spade is so strong and big, and he digs so deep before he inserts his manure. The raking of my backyard is just his once-a-week duty,” she brags and praises about the power she has over these two men.

“I promise you the Muthi from our Sangoma works perfectly for me. How about you Ntabi? How does it work for you?” She wanted to know.

“Hey, our Muthi doesn’t work so nice for me. My husband still sees his Nyatsi and he is difficult to handle. I don’t know what I am doing wrong. I follow all the instructions I got from our Sangoma, but until now it is all in vain.

I even helped Queenie, to place the Muthi inside the store where Kamari works; but she still seems to be okay. I want to see our Sangoma again next week to find out what I am doing wrong. How about you Queenie? Are you still so happy with the success of your Muthi from our Sangoma?” Ntabi asked.

“I am also encountering some problems now. I will tell you just now. Do you like more drinks? I will go to the kitchen and look for some replenishments. Just wait a few minutes and I will tell you what happened….

We are lucky, I got another bottle of Pinotage and even found some meatballs in the fridge. Help yourself….

You remember last Sunday after church I was inviting that bitch Kamari over for tea and wanted to teach Werner and her a big lesson. You were right; these two have an affair. I played a very nice game with them and enjoyed every minute of it until I suddenly passed out. They must have put something into my drink, these bastards. When I woke up the next morning I had an audio recording from last night on my cell phone. These devious crooks must have made a recording and now they try to blackmail me with that. I will also consult our Sangoma next week,” Queenie replied.

“The meatballs are kind of nice”, Ntabi recommended, “do you use chutney? They have this distinct bittersweet oriental taste.”

I don’t know, I think the maid has prepared them for me, she does that sometimes. I just saw them in the fridge and brought them over for us.

Why don’t we go to our Sangoma together and find out what we should do to force our luck? He always got some brilliant ideas. I suggest we see him right away on Monday. What do you think Ntabi?” Queenie suggested.

Day Rest

I was still sitting in my office shocked to the bones after watching the recording. Kamari is also in danger was my first thought and I contacted her straight away by SMS. ‘We have to talk, it is urgent!’ We arranged to meet tomorrow before church.

I picked her up like last time and we drove to our secluded hideout. “You must watch this video, I recorded it yesterday afternoon when I was at the rugby match. I think you are in danger since they also talked about you.”

While she was watching the video, I observed many emotional outbreaks in her face. She seemed shocked and speechless throughout watching the recording. In the end, she started screaming, “I know these two bitches, these devious snakes, and backbiters! Especially this imposter Ntabi, she comes to the shop nearly every day asking me all the time with her slimy voice how I am doing and tells me how much she respects me. Ohhhh this blood-sucking parasite, I will teach her a lesson she will never forget! That is a promise from the bottom of my guts...” Kamari was swearing for a long time.

“Please slow down Kamari, we must keep a cool head now. We have the proof, and we know what they are up to. They will act extremely emotional but unpredictable.” Kamari agreed and tried to slow down her emotions.

“Can we go to your Sangoma together, to show her the video and ask her for advice? They also want to see their Sangoma tomorrow, we must be prepared for their revenge. A Sangoma is like a lawyer in our culture, the one with the better Sangoma turns out to be the winner. I believe she has turned our luck for the better after you visited her this week. Don’t you think so?”

I was not keen on visiting the Sangoma together with Kamari, especially after my first treatment experience, but since she promised that all Sangoma / Client details have to be kept a secret I began to evaluate the pros and cons of her suggestion. I remembered that my Sangoma was very interested in winning the case against Queenies Sangoma. Now I began to understand Kamari’s comparison with lawyers.

“Okay I think you are right, let us arrange a meeting with the Sangoma together. She wanted me to report back to her anyway next week,” I agreed and continued.

“When do you have to be home again today? There is a private ‘Day Rest House’ not far from here. I would be very keen on injecting you with my love juice. Do you have just two hours more, please?” I pleaded Kamari.

“Hmmm” she thought and replied, “you want to be my garden boy today?”

“Don’t put your hopes too high, but I will promise to pamper you from head to toe,” I replied.

“Okay that sounds fair, let us go, two hours is the maximum otherwise I might get into trouble at home.

By the way, did you know that my husband works as a gardener right now?” she hinted at me.

The Day Rest was a small African hut similar to the place where we spent our first night together. The double bed occupied half of the room, there was a kettle for coffee and tea, and in the corner stood a bucket with a lid. “What do you think of this place Kamari?” I asked her.

“Cool, it brings back memories. I start undressing straight away, time is limited!”

Within seconds Kamari was undressed, lying on the mattress with bedroom eyes. I followed suit wasting no time to get undressed and jumped on her. That is what one calls a Quicky. We made very nice passionate love in different styles until we managed to reach a climax together.

“You are a perfect woman for me, we are made for each other. Within fifteen minutes you have made me feel that I am the only man in your life and that you are the only woman I want to be in love with,” I compliment her.

“You are wrong my love, you are not the only man in my life, and you know that, but you are ‘The Man’ in my life. If I could turn back time, I would have married you! That is for sure!”

I was very flattered with her answer and asked her to prepare an afternoon coffee for us. “How do you like your coffee?” she asked.

“Black and strong like you,” I replied “Okay, I like mine white and sweet like you. Let us enjoy, the coffee.”

It was a perfect afternoon. We were happy and content. “You have promised to pamper me, is that still on your mind or what do you want to do with me now?” she asked.

 I was thinking shortly to get a good idea. “In Germany ‘to pamper’ also means ‘to blow sugar in the ass’. Sugar is written with a Z (Zucker) and Ass (Arsch) with an A. Pampering from A to Z. There are still two sachets of sugar left and in the glass are some straws, that is perfect! Turn around and show me your ass,” I requested her.

Whenever I am with Kamari we always think about adult games we could play, that is where we both become creative I took the straw and inserted it deep inside her anus, and started filling the sachets of sugar into the straw. When the straw was full, I shot the sugar with a strong blow up her chocolate tunnel. After four shots all the sugar was inside.

“While the sugar sweetens your chocolate tunnel, I want to drink your private reserve champagne,” I requested.

“I also want yours, let us get together drunk on each other,” Kamari jumped on my suggestion, “I hope you have enough for me, I need a lot to get drunk from you,” she replied.

I loved Kamari’s spontaneity. We got into the sixty-nine-position drinking each other’s urine until the last drop. That was another level of our intimate togetherness.

“I love you so much Werner, you are so dirty and intense, but it is also romantic. I feel so much loved and appreciated when I make love to you. Now, how does the story with the sugar in my ass continue?” she wants to know.

“That is the next level of intimate exchange. I will take the straw and blow air inside your ass. Then you push out all the air out and I will inhale it with my nose and mouth. Are you ready for it?”

“No that is egoistic of you. I also want to inhale your anal perfume. I want the pure aroma without sugar! Give me a straw, I will blow you up until you explode. Let us see who has the stronger lungs,” she suggested.  We were perfect dirty playmates; we could try nearly everything without being afraid to say what we wanted from each other.

She was right, her lungs were stronger. We blew each other up until our anus muscle become a bursting high-pressure valve. I stopped blowing first and pulled out the straw. The warm air hit me into the face like a hair blower and the odor was intense. I enjoyed it since I loved everything, she had in store for me.

We released the air nearly simultaneously. Our farts were loud and strong and didn’t seem to stop. It took minutes until our air pressure subsided. The sugar created a sweet liquid which leaked out of her ass and I licked and sucked every drop I could get.

“Werner you are a dirty, dirty pervert. Shame on you, shame on you. But I love it. I love to play these dirty games with you. Can you tell me why? Am I also a pervert now when I do these things with you?”

I looked into her questioning eyes and responded. “I love everything from you, everything you have to offer for me, but I only want it from you, not from someone else.”

“I also want it only from you, I could never imagine I can enjoy this kind of things and togetherness with anybody else. I guess that we are not perverts, we are just extreme lovers. Promise me you will never do anything like this with another woman,” Kamari requested”

 “I promise you Kamari” and crossed my fingers in front of her. We arrived back at our homes at about lunchtime.

Mokete our Feast for the Ancestors

We left early the next day and managed to see the Sangoma. She was already expecting us when we entered the hut. “It is very nice to see you back so soon and you brought someone else. Sit down both of you and tell me what was happening,” she welcomed us.

“It was a very eventful week, but I think it was going quite well on our side,” I replied, and we told her the whole story.

“Yes, you are right, it sounds like the spirits are guiding us in the right direction. I must consult my ancestors to get more clarity. I will throw the bones for you,” the Sangoma concluded and started her rituals of singing, shaking, snipping, clapping, and spitting on the bones, which was done by all three of us.

“Ahhh ah ah ah, I can see we have won the first round. The Muthi of their bad-spirited Sangoma is getting weaker and weaker. Now I must make the two of you stronger and motivate our ancestors to support us even more. You, white man, responded very well to my first treatment, and you have shown trust and discipline to follow all the instructions I gave you. Now we come to the more painful part, no more bitter and strange tasting drinks, and food. I will administer my Muthi underneath your skin. I will do that simultaneously to both of you,” the Sangoma explained.

We both had to lie on our belly with a naked torso, while the Sangoma performed noisy rituals. “I will make some small incisions with a razor blade on your back to get the herbs under your skin. It will be painful while the Muthi finds its way into your blood. You must restrain from expressing pain, it will make the ancestors angry,” she instructed us.

The pain went deep underneath our skin, and we fought very hard to restrain from showing any verbal nor visible pain, to keep the ancestors satisfied. After a few minutes, the agony subsided, and we were allowed to get up and dress up again.

“Well done you two, well done, that will work fine for us. In the meantime, I have prepared an herbal paste for you. You must rub this deep into your private parts, but I am sure you can do that yourself today in your own time. Remember not to show any pain to upset the ancestors. I am confident you two can also manage that task,” the Sangoma encouraged us.

“Thirdly you have to organize a ‘Mokete’ (feast) to thank the ancestors for their support. You slaughter a cow and a sheep for the Mokete and you invite your community for the feast. Let them all be happy and give everyone enough food and drinks to enjoy the Mokete.

The hide of the sheep is for the house of Kamari and the cowhide is for your house, white man. The hides will protect you from bad spirits, do you understand?” We nodded in devotion to our Sangoma.

We prepared to exit the medicine hut and thanked the Sangoma for her valued support. “Before you go, I have another instruction for you. After the Mokete you also bring me a cow, that will be my fee. If you can’t deliver a cow to me, I will also accept the equivalent in cash. Now go in peace, you are protected,” she assured us.

After being discharged by the Sangoma, the burning sun and bright weather outside hit us again with full force and transmuted us from the spiritual world to the real world.

On our way home I suggested stopping over at the ‘Day Rest House’ to administer the herbal paste. We passed via a bottle store to get some high percentage pain relievers; just in case…

We were lying on the bed reflecting our visit to the Sangoma.

“Werner, I respect your courage to see the Sangoma together with me and I am proud of how you took the painful treatments. I always thought white people are wimps, but you chanced my prejudice today and I am proud to have you on my side.

We Africans are used to painful treatments. Even when we go to a medical doctor for injection, we expect it to be painful because we assume that it must hurt to work properly. Now let us see how you pass this test. If you will do it without whimpering, you can ask me anything at any time. I will obey and be yours”, Kamari challenged and encouraged me. She is very resourceful in constantly finding new adventurous challenges for us and she understands how to motivate me.

“Okay let us get it over with. You can start with me,” I suggested.

Kamari put some paste on her finger and inserted it into my ass. “It is not painful, feels just like Vaseline. Let me do the same to you,” I replied boldly.

We were lying on the bed and enjoyed our ‘medicine’ from the bottle store. The radio played some smooth Afro Jazz. She sipped on a glass of ‘Amarula Cream’ and I took a triple Scotch on the Rocks.

After about ten minutes I felt a burning pain inside my abdomen accompanied by stomach cramps. The cramps became worse and worse. I had terrible bowel movements. It felt like rodents were eating me from inside. The pain got more. The noise and pain in the stomach increased. I wanted to scream and cry but forced myself to suppress the urge. I looked into Kamari’s face and saw she was in the same situation. Silent tears came out of her eyes. I realized she experienced the same agony.

We embraced each other holding us very tight. The noise in our stomach and the cramps became nearly unbearable, but we tried to endure it together. We were clinging to each other with our legs and arms. The rodents seemed to have a feeding frenzy in our guts; there was a fierce battle in our stomachs.

Slowly the pain subsided, and we loosened our embrace a bit. We could look now in the eyes of each other and saw our partial relief.

Suddenly Kamari jumped up and ran to the bucket just in time to relieve herself from a burst of diarrhea. The noise and smell were intense. All the hidden sewage sludge from her intestines was gushing inside the bucket. She looked relieved now.

“Get up! Get up quickly. Now I get the running,” I shouted and took her seat on the bucket. I never had explosive digestion like this before. It smelled so bad but felt so good after the pressure was gone. My anus was sore from the heavy gushes of dirt, but I felt relieved, very relieved.

Kamari dressed up quickly rushing out with the bucket to the common toilet and flushed the content away. She came back to the room smiling and saying, “we are cleansed now, all the rotten dirt from all hidden corners in our body are out. We are free, we are free at last!” 

I sat on the bed and poured us a new generous ‘bottle-store medicine’. “Let us drink to that! Cheers.” The alcohol loosened us up and we started talking happily about the agony we just experienced.

“It is the perfect time to put the cherry on top now my love,” Kamari exclaimed, “fuck me like there is no tomorrow. I want to feel you deep inside me, fill my pussy with your love and cum!”

We did exactly that. It was so nice to experience uninhibited lust. Relieved from all the dirt and burden, we celebrated our most intimate festival of sex and love and rock’n roll. We climaxed together with gushes of squirt and semen, accompanied by loud orgasmic exclamations. We reached heaven on earth.

Two weeks later I organized the Mokete and nearly the whole village attended. Queenie found an excuse to stay away from the celebration. I filed for a divorce and six months on we were also legally separated from each other.

During this time, I received devastating news from my medical doctor, who diagnosed me with cancer, which required me to get treated professionally as soon as possible. Since I still have a German passport, I decided to get it done in my country of birth, where I get a better chance to survive the disease than here in Southern Africa, relying only on the public health system.

To be continued….One week in Durban