Contributed by - Marabout

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Chapter 1

Dawn comes early in tropical Africa. At just after six o�clock, Eustace Thimble, having made a quick breakfast of tea and a couple of biscuits and having put a bottle of water in his rucksack, crept silently from his house and went out into the school yard. He breathed the still cool air with contentment. It promised to be another glorious day � ideal for a day down by Lake Malembe. He knew where to find the bicycle. He had spotted it some time ago, just behind the night-watchman�s hut, and he had never seen it being used. He had had a look at it the day before and it seemed to be in good order. There seemed to be no-one around, so without more ado he took hold of the handlebars and off he pedaled, rolling pleasantly down the red laterite road towards the lake.

This was the first week of the long mid-year holiday, and Eustace had just completed his first term as a teacher at the President Benda College for Girls. Indeed, this was his first job since graduating from his English university. He had always been attracted by central Africa, so it was with great excitement and pleasure that he had accepted this teaching post in the most prestigious girls� school in Azanga. As he breezed down the road, catching glimpses of the shimmering lake between gaps in the luxuriant foliage on either side, he was thinking over his first experiences in Africa. His first term had been successful. The Headmistress, Madame Tembe, a cousin of the President Elizabeth Benda of Azanga, approved of him, his colleagues, all female, liked him, and he was popular with the girls, several of whom were already secretly in love with him. Not that Eustace was exactly a Hollywood heart-throb. He was a rather plump young man, of medium height, fair-haired, owlish and bespectacled. Perhaps it was his extremely white skin that attracted the girls, and the fact that he was the only male teacher in the establishment.

The only person with whom he did not get on so well was Miss Rachel Moyo, the Assistant Head and Discipline Mistress. Miss Moyo was a spinster, in her forties, with a tall, commanding presence, as befitted her responsibilities. She was possessed of a buxom, �Junoesque� figure and a stern countenance, and she was much feared, with good reason, by the girls and even by the teachers. Eustace knew that any girl sent to see Miss Moyo for disciplinary reasons returned thoroughly chastened. He himself had had no problems with the girls in his classes up to now so that there had been no need to resort to Miss Moyo�s intervention, but he had heard tales, recounted with lurid details by his female colleagues of the floggings dispensed by this lady. So far Eustace had managed to avoid serious confrontation with Miss Moyo, and on this first day of the six-week holiday, her suspicious glare was far from his mind.

How lucky he was! He had a comfortable little bungalow in the school grounds, the school was practically deserted, since all the teachers and most of the pupils had left for the holiday, and he was free to explore this beautiful African country. It was true that Miss Moyo had remained at the school for the holiday period. She occupied her own house there, though she sometimes left to spend a day in the neighboring village of Gulembe, from which she originally came. However, Eustace did not anticipate any problems from that quarter, and he had even tried to ingratiate himself by offering to assist her in any administrative tasks she might have during the vacation.

In about thirty minutes of easy downhill riding Eustace found himself by the lake shore. It was deserted and silent but for the gentle lapping of the water on the rocky margins, and the cries of the exotic and variegated bird life. The sun was glinting on the calm waters and in the distance, on the far side of the lake. Eustace could see the hazy blue outline of the mountains. To the north lay the restricted area where Malembe Prison and the residential village of the prison staff were situated. Eustace had heard that the prison was run by a tough and uncompromising woman governor and that conditions there were harsh. One of his female colleagues had a cousin who lived in the village. One day she regaled the teachers� staff room with descriptions of what she had seen while on a visit to her cousin. She reported, to much giggling from the other women teachers, how she had seen the Englishman, William Maze, who had been sentenced to hard labor with mandatory caning for drugs trafficking a couple of years ago. She described, with considerable relish, how she had personally witnessed him being whipped by a woman guard in the village street, where he had been put to work. He was obliged to work completely naked and in shackles, exposed to the jeers and mockery of the village women. Eustace�s colleagues, in typical Azangan fashion, expressed their full approval of such punishment, for in Azanga the people believed that malefactors should be seen to suffer for their deeds.

Eustace shivered at the thought and wondered how his unfortunate compatriot was faring. He was already aware, through newspaper reports, of the draconian judicial system extant in Azanga. Offenders, both male and female, were liable to receive mandatory corporal punishment, in the form of strokes of the rattan cane on the bare buttocks, for a large number of offences, and this system was thoroughly approved of by the overwhelming majority of the population. The country was run, with considerable efficiency, mainly by women, from President Elizabeth Benda herself down through female ministers, district commissioners, judges and police chiefs, all of whom belonged to the single political party, the Azanga National Party or ANP. Mrs Tembe and Miss Moyo were members of the powerful Women�s League of the ANP, as were all of the female teachers at the college, and they frequently wore the green and yellow party uniform, a traditional Azangan top, long skirt and head-dress, embellished with portraits of the President.

Eustace decided to turn left, in a northerly direction along the shore, which was heavily forested almost down to the water�s edge, towards a rocky headland he could see several miles away in the distance. Most of the time he had to push his bicycle, there being no path, but this did not worry him. He felt totally at ease with the world. Perhaps he would find a sheltered cove where he could stop and go for a swim in the nude. Surely there would be no-one to see him. Thoughts of swimming in the nude inevitably brought to Eustace�s mind visions of some of the attractive girls in his classes. He always saw them clad in their modest white school blouses and long dark blue uniform skirts, which reached below the knee, but he could not help wondering what they would look like splashing about nude in the waters of the lake. For some reason, the vision of Miss Rachel Moyo emerging naked from the water also entered his mind. He had to admit, in spite of himself, that he was attracted by Miss Moyo�s authoritative presence. He felt an erection coming on and quickened his pace, trying to drive these thoughts from his head. Eustace was not particularly puritanical, but he knew that he must not allow any suspicion of impropriety to sully his record at the school. He could just imagine what Miss Moyo would make of it!

The rocky headland was still about a quarter of a mile away. Eustace pushed on happily, savoring the sights, sounds and smells of the lakeside scene. A delightful and heady perfume seemed to drift from the thick foliage. Eustace decided to make a point of studying the flora of Azanga in order to identify all these luxuriant plants and trees that crowded in on him from all sides in this wonderful country. As he neared the headland, he thought he could faintly hear some kind of singing or chanting, accompanied by a drumbeat. It sounded like women�s voices, and it got louder and louder as he got nearer and nearer. He quickened his pace, anxious to see where the sound came from. How interesting and picturesque, he thought, to witness some kind of Azangan ceremony or celebration.

When he finally reached the headland, he walked round it on the lake side and found himself in a pretty little sandy cove with another rocky headland at the far end. There, a little way up from the sandy beach, in the shade of some overhanging trees, Eustace was presented with a fascinating scene. Some twenty or thirty Azangan women, all clad in the green and yellow Presidential Party dress embellished with the portrait of President Elizabeth Benda, moved slowly in a circle around an older woman who was seated on a carved wooden stool; singing and clapping rhythmically, governed by the beat of the drum,. Eustace laid the bicycle against a rock and approached the group, transfixed by the color, the slow, heavy beat of the drum and the perfect harmony of the singing.

Suddenly his presence was noticed by several of the women who stopped their dance and pointed, exclaiming in shrill Ciazangi: �A man! A man!� The whole dance came to a silent halt and thirty pairs of eyes were turned on Eustace, who stood there, smiling amiably, trying to utter a greeting in Ciazangi. Then, the older woman, who seemed to be in authority, said something and immediately a dozen women descended on Eustace, grabbing him by the arms and pulling and shoving him roughly up the slope towards the seated chief. Eustace offered no resistance � it would have been futile anyway to resist in the face of such a number of evidently indignant women � and, still trying to smile and express polite greetings, allowed himself to be forced to his knees before the head woman. A heated discussion then broke out in rapid Ciazangi, which Eustace was unable to follow, but which he realized, judging by the angry tones and glares directed at him, must concern some kind of serious offence committed by him.

In fact, had he understood, Eustace would have been somewhat more alarmed than he was, for the women were vociferously demanding that the male intruder should be punished for violating the sanctity of this place, which was reserved for female ceremonies and totally forbidden to men. The chief, a tall, handsome woman of some fifty years, let them shout for a while, then, with one curt command, silenced the hubbub. She addressed the kneeling Eustace, in slow clear Ciazangi.

�Who are you? What do you want here?�

Eustace was only able to stammer a few practically unintelligible words,

provoking the women into shrill cries of derision. The chief again hushed them and this time spoke to Eustace in correct English.

�This place is a place for women. A man is not allowed to come here. This is our

custom.�

Eustace again tried to protest his innocence, but to no avail. His fate was sealed, for the custom was implacable. There could be no exceptions. The head woman spoke in Ciazangi.

�Sisters! This white man has trespassed on our place. He must be punished. Strip him!�

.�Strip him naked! Strip him naked! Strip him naked!� the women immediately chorused, crowding round the hapless Eustace. He tried, too late, to push his way out, but he stood no chance against their numbers and found himself thrust down flat on his back, his arms and legs firmly gripped by four pairs of strong hands, while other hands pulled and snatched at his clothes. In no time at all, despite his pathetic protests and feeble struggles, poor Eustace was divested of every stitch of clothing and found himself spreadeagled on the ground, as naked as he was born, with a host of black faces grinning and laughing down at him. He was pulled to his feet, surrounded by the menacing crowd of women, who proceeded to jostle and pummel him, raining slaps on his naked body and grabbing at his genitals with screams of laughter and obscene comments. Poor Eustace twisted and squirmed, whimpering and squealing pathetically as he implored them to stop, which only served to amuse them more and intensify their teasing. Eustace had no idea what they were going to do to him, and he nearly fainted with fear when one of the women took hold of his penis with one hand and made sawing movements with the other hand as if to indicate that she was going to cut his member off! A length of rope was produced from somewhere and Eustace�s wrists were bound. Then the end of the rope was tossed over a low overhanging branch and pulled up so that Eustace was left hanging on tip-toe beneath the tree.

Meanwhile, several women had collected bundles of thin green bamboo switches. These were immediately distributed among the women, who proceeded to rain stinging lashes across his defenseless back, buttocks and legs.. He writhed and danced, hopping from one foot to the other, as the flexible switches scored his body, each lash leaving a thin, stinging stripe on his white skin and drawing a high-pitched squeal from the recipient and wild shrieks of mirth from his tormentors as they enjoyed the comical spectacle. However, despite the unhappy victim�s wailing and squealing, no quarter was given and soon the back of his body was criss-crossed with burning stripes from top to bottom.

After several minutes, a word of command from the headwoman brought this ordeal to an end and Eustace was left hanging, gasping and sobbing, more from the humiliation and helplessness of his situation than from any real physical pain, while the women looked down on him, jeering and mocking. The green bamboo switches undoubtedly stung his bare flesh, but they were too thin and light to cause any real harm. In fact, the primary purpose of this whipping was to inflict ritual shame and indignity rather than serious corporal punishment and the whole performance was accompanied by much ribald laughter and good humored mockery.

If Eustace had thought that his punishment was over and that he was about to be set free, however, he was sadly mistaken. While he was being whipped, one of the women had run to the village of Gulembe, which, unknown to Eustace, was a few minutes walk away behind the trees, and returned bringing with her some of the small, fiercely hot green chili peppers, called �pilipili� in Azanga, which were much used in traditional cooking. Her arrival was greeted with much laughter and banter. The women crowded round, some sitting, others standing, chattering and laughing their full-throated African laugh, with heads thrown back and white teeth gleaming, as they contemplated the sorry, naked figure of this foolish young white man who had been so unwise as to interrupt their private ceremony and was now paying the penalty.

Now the noise and chatter died down almost to silence as two strong young women came forward and, squatting on either side of Eustace, each wrapped a powerful arm around one thigh to force his legs apart while, with the other hand, they each seized a cheek of his buttocks in order to spread then open to reveal his anus. Then, a pleasantly smiling rather motherly lady came forward to squat behind the wriggling victim and, with great care, inserted two of the hot, stinging peppers into his anus. The two young women then released Eustace�s thighs and buttocks so that they closed, trapping the burning peppers inside his rectum and causing him to squirm and squeal pathetically as he tried in vain to rid himself of the red-hot intruder. This, of course, only served to bring upon him even greater mockery and derision, which was redoubled when the older lady came round to the front and proceeded to direct her attention to Eustace�s genitals, first stroking and massaging his penis to provoke an erection. Having done so, she then seized the stiff member with one hand while she thoroughly rubbed all parts with one of peppers, taking care to ensure that plenty of the fiercely burning seeds remained trapped under Eustace�s foreskin to ignite an unbearable fire around that tender spot.

The women started to sing ribald songs making fun of the hapless Eustace, all chanting the chorus with much rhythmical clapping and lascivious jerking of the hips. At the end of each chorus a woman would dance up to the wretched naked figure and slap his behind or tweak his penis, then dance away laughing. Another would use a bamboo switch to whip his legs to make him hop and dance. Eustace could only hang there, helplessly, squealing and squirming and pleading miserably with his tormentors, to no avail. The women were enjoying the fun too much to release their victim too soon.

Eventually, however, the headwoman called a halt to the revelry. She stood before Eustace and addresses him sternly, warning him never again to trespass on this place sacred to women. Then she called for a bamboo switch and, to cheers and applause from her women, presented Eustace with a farewell gift of a couple of dozen hard, well-placed lashes across his buttocks. Finally, she ordered several of the women to drive him away, stark naked as he was. Several of them willingly complied, lashing Eustace down to the beach and round the headland with switches, remaining there and heaping imprecations and mockery on him until he was well away from the cove.

So, poor Eustace found himself alone on the lake shore, sobbing with humiliation and exhaustion, sore, hungry and stark naked. Not only had he lost all his clothes but also the bicycle. He knew he was about ten miles away from the school and now, having escaped from the clutches of the angry women, he began to wonder how on earth he was going to get back to the safety of his comfortable room in the school grounds, mother-naked and without the bicycle. He also began to visualize the scene that might ensue should he be discovered in this state of nudity by Miss Rachel Moyo. This did not bear thinking about! Eustace was in trouble and he knew it!

The first priority, he felt, was to distance himself from the fatal headland. He walked as fast as he could, suffering from the effects of the hot sun on his pink, naked skin and the sharp pebbles on his tender bare feet. Having put about half-a-mile between himself and the scene of his humiliation, Eustace stopped and decided to take a dip in the invitingly cool water of the lake in the hope that this would still the furious burning in his backside as well as the smart all over his body produced by the beating with the bamboo canes. It had been his original plan to enjoy a swim in coming in the lake this morning, but, as he ruefully admitted to himself, the circumstances were somewhat different now. Nevertheless, the water soothed his smarting flesh and cooled the burning, so that he remained immersed for a good while, eventually coming out feeling somewhat refreshed. He walked up from the beach and sat down in the shade of the luxuriant lakeside trees. He knew he needed to think of a plan to get back to the school unnoticed. It would not be easy.

He decided that the wisest move would be to wait until nightfall, which came early and suddenly in tropical Azanga, and then try to sneak into the school premises. Thus, after resting for an hour or so, he pushed on slowly until he came to the point where the road from the school reached the lake shore. Fortunately there was no-one about, for the there were no cultivatable fields by the lake and so few people were likely to come there on an ordinary working day. Once again, Eustace took cover behind a clump of thick foliage, under the great trees that lined the narrow road leading up to the college. Once or twice he heard voices and one or two women passed down the road carrying baskets on their heads, evidently on their way to a village near the lake, having come from the market near the school. Eustace wondered whether they were heading for the village of the women who had stripped and humiliated him, and he imagined the amusing story they would hear from their neighbors about a white man who had been punished for violating the Law.

An hour or so after nightfall, Eustace cautiously left his hiding-place and started wearily up the long hill towards the school. It had taken him only half-an-hour to coast down it on the bicycle that morning. Now, with frequent stops to listen for possible passers-by, it was some three hours before he finally sighted the high wooden gate of the school. He could see no lights and no sound came from the nearly deserted college. He knew that Thomas, the night-watchman made regular rounds of the grounds during the night. He decided on the bold plan of climbing over the gates and making a quick dash for his small bungalow, which was some way off near the school playing field, not far from Miss Moyo�s grander house. The first part of the operation was accomplished with ease. He dropped clumsily to the ground with a certain amount of noise as the gate shook and clattered, but this seemed to attract no attention. Straight away, he headed for his bungalow. The path was pitch dark, though he noticed a light in one of Miss Moyo�s windows as he crept past her house. He reached his bungalow and heaved a sigh of relief.

He had made it! It was then that he realized that he had no key. His keys had disappeared along with his clothes back at the lake. He remembered that the kitchen window was rather badly fitted and so he went round the back of the house to see if he could force the window open and climb in. He started to pull at the frame, which seemed about to give way. That was when Thomas pounced on him with a hoarse yell of �Nyang�anya! Nyang�anya!� � �Thief! Thief!� Eustace tried to protest escape the watchman�s grip, but Thomas was a muscular man, despite his age, and he dragged Eustace round to the front of the house, continuing to shout the alarm. At once more lights went on in Miss Moyo�s house and, to Eustace�s dismay, that formidable lady herself appeared, clad in a dressing gown and carrying a heavy stick. She also had a flashlight with which, when she approached the scene of the rumpus, she identified the intruder as the hapless Eustace.

�Eustace!� she cried with astonishment. �What on earth are you doing here like that? Why are you naked? What is going on? This is disgraceful.� Then she addressed Thomas in Ciazangi. He started a long explanation, meanwhile releasing Eustace, who pitifully tried to hide his nakedness, covering his private parts with his hands. Miss Moyo impatiently silenced Thomas and turned her attention to Eustace.

�Well Eustace,� she said menacingly, �What is the meaning of this? Are you drunk or have you gone crazy? I am waiting for an explanation.

�Please, Miss Moyo,� Eustace stammered, �I � I � you see, this morning I went down to Lake Malembe to spend the day and � and � someone stole my clothes and while I was bathing and � and I lost my keys so �.�

�I see,� Miss Moyo cut in menacingly. �Well, you had better get into your house before anyone else sees you like that. You will please report to my office at nine o�clock tomorrow morning. We will discuss this matter then.�

�I can�t get in without my keys,� poor William explained pathetically.

Miss Moyo, in her usual efficient fashion was equal to that problem. She returned rapidly to her house soon to reappear with her office keys, which she handed to Thomas, ordering him in rapid Ciazangi to run to her office and bring the bunch of spare house keys she kept there. Then, with a final fierce glare at the wretched Eustace, she turned on her heel, leaving him standing there looking foolish and forlorn in his birthday suit.

A few minutes later Thomas returned to let Eustace into his house. Relieved though he might have been to be safe at last inside his house, Eustace knew that his troubles were far from over. Indeed, judging from the expression on Miss Moyo�s face and the tone of her voice, he realized that they were just beginning.

Eustace  - Chapter 2