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Red Cane (Sylvester Horne)


Red Cane by Sylvester Horne

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    • Average 3.7 from 6 ratings

The gangster, Senhor Vandarmeer, has taken up residence in the small African country of Anabra Island so that he can follow a life filled with debauchery safe from the reaches of international law enforcement. He imposes his will on all those around him and has a barbarous way of executing anyone who crosses him.

Xavier Mazula goes to an interview for a job as a gardener but the Senhor has other ideas, wanting him to stand for election as presidente. The Senhor sets about corrupting him with the pleasures derived from sex, sadism, slavery,and corruption.

In exchange for the electoral support, Xavier hands over his eighteen year old sister and the pair of them turn her into one of the Senhor’s sex slaves.

Meantime a Czech police officer sets about trying to find his missing daughter and eventually meets up with the Senhor and Xavier, with consequences.

Editorial: This is a real thriller laced with BDSM and sex. One of Sylvester`s best stories - be prepared for a rollercoaster of a ride as your senses are heightened as you discover what the evil Senhor and Xavier plan to do next.

Product type: EBook    Published by: Fiction4All    Published: 06 / 2007

No. words: 74600

Style: Male Dom - M/F

Available Formats: Palm  PDF  MS Reader  


Excerpt

“Oh yeah! Yeah! Yeah!” Khandi squealed, shuddering and shaking, rolling her head and closing her eyes, lids flashing electric-blue makeup.
A malevolent snarl appeared on the senhor’s face, his penis seeming to swell more, veins throbbing and twitching, hairless scrotum contracting, he thrusting into the girl harder and faster. “Errrggghhh!” he snorted, obviously pumping his seed deep into the impaled vagina.
Xavier watched fascinated, the senhor continuing his action for some time, ejaculating a couple of extra shots into her.
Hoisting Khandi up a fraction, the senhor’s manhood slipped out of her sex. It did not go flaccid, it still semi-rigid, pointing out at a right angle to his body. Xavier had always thought white men were not so well endowed as blacks, but the senhor was. He was bigger than anyone he had seen, at least twenty-eight centimetres long and as thick as a young boy’s arm. The king-sized phallus waggled up and down, the shaft covered in a slick of cum and pussy juice, a great glob of semen still clinging around the opening. Khandi’s vagina was gaping, displaying the moist and beautifully pink interior. “Raquel, get on your knees. Lick and suck,” the senhor ordered.
The older of the two blondes, she having the biggest breasts by far, stepped out of her mules and into the tub, her boobs swaying like cows’ udders. Sinking to her knees, she opened wide, her tongue stretching out, the tip licking against his big head, strings of sperm being eagerly drawn into her mouth. Moving her head, she rasped her tongue along the length of Khandi’s crack, causing the recipient to purr contentedly.
Natalia arrived with a platter of food and a tall glass of golden liquid, beads of condensation trickling down the outside. A pretty-looking Chinese girl, ring in her nose, dressed in a starched nurse’s uniform accompanied her and placed a stainless-steel kidney-shaped dish on the tabletop. Xavier noticed it contained a hypodermic and a cotton-wool ball.
“Qi will take a blood sample from you,” the senhor said. “I like to know all my potential employees are healthy.”
Before Xavier could reply, Qi pulled his right arm towards her, inserting the needle, filling the syringe. She pushed the cotton ball onto the prick-hole and said, “Hold that until it stops bleeding.” Picking up the dish, she went.
“Eat, drink,” Natalia said, she moving to stand closer to the Jacuzzi.
Xavier popped the cotton ball into his breast pocket and set to consuming the nice food, sipping his Carlsberg, savouring the expensive imported beer.
Raquel was alternating her licks, between pussy and penis, Khandi suddenly shrieking, “Yeeoowweee!” She clearly climaxing.
The senhor lowered her into the water, she kneeling, starting to suck on his balls. “So, Xavier Mazula, have you had enough to eat? Do you want more? More beer?”
“No, no, Senhor, thank you. I’ve had plenty and more beer in the afternoon would make me sleepy. I did not expect such treatment. It’s most kind of you.”
“Nonsense. If you’re going to be working for me, I can’t have you starving.”
Xavier was at a loss what to say. He never imagined gardeners were treated in such a fashion. Perhaps this white man was very different. He hoped this was an omen, that he had obtained employment.
“Jannah, check him out,” the senhor said.
The other blonde moved towards the table, flashing an impish grin. She was stunning: pale white skin, white-blonde hair, pretty face with dazzling blue eyes. Her breasts were smaller than those on the other three, about the size of large oranges, but he would dearly have loved to give them a feel. Sinking to her knees, she disappeared from view under the table, he soon feeling her hands on his groin. She pulled his zipper. Having no underwear, his rigid manhood sprung into view, her warm soft fingers taking hold, easing his testicles out too. Her digits worked his foreskin back and forth, he gulping, not knowing how to react. He felt her tongue tickle his bulbous end, her hands jerking him even harder. Letting go, she backed out from under the table. Standing, winking, turning, she announced, “He’s about twenty-five centimetres, meaty too. But he’s not as long or as thick as you, Master.”
Jannah discarded her shoes, stepping into the Jacuzzi, rubbing her crotch against the senhor’s hip, hands stroking his chest and back.
“So, Xavier Mazula, you are indeed a Fangani,” the senhor stated. “They all seem to be pretty well hung.”
Not knowing whether he should put his equipment back, apprehensive at moving, he decided to leave his hands on the tabletop. This was simply turning into a strange job interview. “Erm – erm the Fangani have a reputation of being well endowed, Senhor. I-I’m slightly longer than – than my brother and my friend Mbeki but – but that is why so many of us were sold into slavery.” He knew the Fangani were a mainland tribe who, because of their attributes, had been constantly taken as prisoners by other tribes and sold to Europeans slavers. When the British had used Anabra for their anti-slavery operations in the 1830s they had released many freed slaves onto the Island. That was why the Obiangi disliked them, they reckoning they were the natives.
“Jannah knows a good cock when she sees one. Obviously you must have a good one, otherwise she’d have said. Have you used it to fuck many women, Xavier Mazula?”
Stunned, he was uncertain how to respond. Unfortunately ladies did not show favours to poor men so he had therefore only been with five girls, and three of those he had had to force. “N-no, S-Senhor, n-not m-many,” he stuttered. “But I-I pray I-I find the right one someday.”
“As you see, Xavier Mazula, I indulge my insatiable venery habits as much as I can. I currently only have eight such beauties, plus Qi of course, but I expect to acquire more soon.”
“You’re very lucky, Senhor, they’re very beautiful ladies.” He would merely have liked making love to one, but at the moment he was worrying he might simply ejaculate. That would be very embarrassing, it might be seen as him lusting after the senhor’s women, and that would ruin his job chances. Blacks had to show proper respect for whites, his mother had always told him.
“They are beautiful. But enough about me, what about you, Xavier Mazula, tell me about your political ambitions.”
Xavier’s jaw dropped. How had he known? He felt like someone had stabbed him in the heart. The senhor was rich, had armed guards and lived in the former Portuguese army fortress, so he must be a friend of Presidente Musa. This was frightening. “Well, well – erm – I-I’m being pressed to stand, b-by the Cocoa Smallholders Association.” He was certain the members did not understand the futility of the proposition. Musa was going to win, it would be rigged. Xavier knew that. What was worse, he knew there was a real danger that Musa’s henchmen were likely to visit the Mazula home, rape his sister and beat him, his father and brother. “I-I’m the secretary. B-but I-I have not decided whether to s-stand. I-I have n-no money so we could not mount any – any campaign.”
“Why would they want you to stand? Besides you being quite handsome and one of the better educated Fangani, what’s in it for them?”
He did not want to say, these were treacherous waters. “Well, well, they think I might be able to get them a better price for their cocoa … but—”
Seeming to sense his reticence, the senhor said, “I have been studying the economy of this Island, coffee and cocoa particularly. The trouble is there are just too many people between the producers and the consumers, they all taking a cut. Your presidente does not help; his corruption is making things worse. So, how would you improve things, Xavier Mazula?”
Xavier did not know how the senhor could concentrate on the conversation whilst three beautiful ladies were giving his body so much attention. “Well, I would not want to say anything against the presidente.”
Coiling a hand in each of the kneeling girls’ hair, the senhor pulled their heads away from his anatomy, saying, “Enough. You’ll pleasure me tonight.”
“Yes, Master,” both replied.
“Yes, Master,” Jannah said, she turning to look at Xavier, pouting her lips, he sure she blew him a kiss.
The senhor stepped from the Jacuzzi, walking to him, saying, “Come, Xavier Mazula, let’s go to my study to talk politics in private. Take off your shirt and give it to Natalia to wash for you.”
“I would not wish to trouble you, Senhor. My shirt – I can wash it when I get home,” he replied, trying to be helpful.
“I told you before, Xavier my friend, it’s absolutely no trouble to me. These girls live to serve. You will of course eat with me tonight and stay overnight.”
He was near dumbstruck. Which employer ever invited a gardener to enjoy such hospitality, and call him a friend too? This was a strange household. There were several girlfriends for a start, and why did they keep calling the senhor “master”? Perhaps they were simply very respectful, he thought. “Thank you, Senhor, if it’s not too much trouble I would be honoured.”
“It’s not. Now, Natalia, put his equipment away then take his shirt to be washed. Oh, and remember to pick up my crop and bring it to the study.”
“Yes, Master,” she responded.


Reviews

I don't often use the word disgusting to describe a book, even less to describe an erotic book. Red Cane by Sylvester Horne has pulled that descriptive out with this piece of trash. Celebrating lawlessness and base evil with a kind of joy, this book is everything that moralists want to find in erotic fiction to justify their attempts at censorship. There's nothing redeeming about this story and it should never have seen the light of day. Don't waste your time or money. 1 out of 5

A long story with an excellent plot. It has the right blend of sex and punishment. It keeps moving forward without dragging. 5 out of 5 (qubert)

Interesting & well written but did not develope as well as I hoped. 3 out of 5

Well written, but too violent for me. The story reminds me of "Girl With The Dragon Tattoo". 5 out of 5 (dinbm)

Author Information

Over fifty years or so I have daydreamed my life away making up stories as I went about the chores of daily life. They were sexually oriented fantasies. I try to be realistic - write how the world is or was - not hide behind the veneer of political correctness.

I hope readers get some enjoyment from my efforts.

 

Publisher Information

Publishers of non-adult and adult fiction. Authors, experienced and new are welcome. We have a number of different sites for various genres, including specialist sites for Romance (www.a1romancestories.com, our non-adult and erotica site at www.fiction4all.com and a number of adult sites based around our main site at www.a1adultebooks.com


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