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The Wheel (Kelly Addams)


The Wheel by Kelly Addams

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Jason and Tuliza have a long distance relationship, he is based in the UK and she lives in Mombasa on the Kenyan coast. Determined to meet her he makes arrangements to detour from business in the west, and finds her to be just perfect... but Tuliza has a dark secret, she is also known as Fisi Girl, or Hyena Girl... because of the late night shows that are the source of her deepest shame.

Product type: EBook    Published by:     Published: 05 / 2018

No. words: 7760

Style: Sado-Masochism (SM), Bondage/BDSM Fetishes

Available Formats: MobiPocket (MOBI)  EPUB  PDF  This book has a format which can be downloaded to Kindle


Excerpt

His concern deepened as they reached his hotel's private beach, Tuliza's nerves increased far more than he would have presumed, he had expected her to be a little unsure about revealing herself semi naked, he had his own personal concerns because he wasn't as fit or toned as he would have liked, but her evasion spoke of a deeper worry.
“Relax,” Jason smiled, “You look so tense.”
Tuliza shook her head slightly and pulled the light sarong tighter around her torso.
“I scratched more than my face on the cactus last night,” she avoided his eyes and stared out to sea, “I hurt my ribs too.”
Cactus? Jason picked up on her error instantly.
“The cactus spines scratched you badly?”
Tuliza nodded, “I'm clumsy.”
Graceful not clumsy he corrected as her deception deepened, he had caught her in a lie, but was it really his place to question her.
And then something strange happened, a hawker selling sunglasses called out in excitement and scampered across the hot white sand.
“Fisi Girl!” Jason saw panic blossom. “Damn, I would recognise you anywhere... last night was amazing, the best show ever!”
Tuliza shook her head. “You are mistaken, I don't know anyone called Fisi Girl.”
The hawker chuckled and winked. “You can't fool me sexy, I was there last night, I saw him give you the scratch on your face, I saw the way he raked your ribs... he was crazy... but not half as crazy as you.”
“Mistaken!” Tuliza rapidly gathered her few belongings together and scarlet faced she snatched her bag from the sand and began to stalk toward the road, clearly her intention to get a taxi.
Jason sat stunned, it had all happened so fast.
“Fisi Girl?” he asked quickly as he grabbed his towel from the sand and prepared to chase after her rapidly receding figure.
“Yah Man,” the hawker nodded, “It means Hyena Girl, she's famous around here.”
“Hyena!”
The hawker's grin widened. “Ask her to bring you to one of her shows, you'll be amazed.”
For a moment Jason considered pressing for more information, why Hyena Girl? What show? But she had already passed through the thin fringe of palm trees that ran along the edge of the beach, and reached the road, a few more seconds and she would have flagged down one of the hundreds of Matatu minibuses. And that would mean that he had effectively lost her, at least until the following Monday morning. And knowing my luck she'll call in sick until I leave. A final look at the hawkers knowing grin knotted his stomach, he saw Tuliza raise her hand to stop an approaching vehicle, and as he raced across the fine white sand he decided that he could ask her in person rather than listen to hearsay on the beach.
He called her name and saw her freeze as she clambered through the Matatu’s sliding side door, she didn't look back, just paused.
“Wait, please.” he shouted.
Her head shook slightly, and just as he cleared the palms the battered minibus pulled back into the traffic in a haze of blue smoke.
Desolate, he stood on the edge of the asphalt and watched her disappear into the distance.
She had gone.
He had lost her.
Probably forever.
One last hope! He suddenly realised, then turned and sprinted back to the beach, racing toward the water he grasped the hawker by the shoulder and spun him around.
“I don't want to know what she does, I just want to know where and when her next show will be!”
The hawker grinned and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “I did know, but imagine… my memory fails me.”
Five minutes later, and several hundred Kenyan shillings poorer, Jason hailed a matatu of his own, and as he rolled and rattled back to Mombasa Town and his hotel he studied a name and time written on a scrap of paper. Just twenty four hours to wait, her next performance was set for Sunday night, late, and deep in the seedy back streets of a town he knew by reputation alone. The town of Mtwapa, a place described at one time as the sex capital of the world… a place that would make the inhabitants of Sodom or Gomorrah blush.


Author Information

30 something married nymph with a very dirty mind!
WARNING: You will find nothing vanilla in any of the books that I write, I don't even like vanilla ice-cream!
Taboo, taboo and more taboo, so be warned before sampling the products of my filthy mind.

 

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