Chapter 15: Lover, rapist, killer

…continued from 24 May 2026...

WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS DESCRIPTIONS OF SEX, SEXUAL ABUSE VIOLENCE AND FOUL LANGUAGE – DO NOT READ IF IT WILL OFFEND YOU.

His thoughts turned to Saldanha and he thought about the operation. He would need about 10 of his best men; it would be prudent to strike during the early hours of the morning when Jamal and the rest of his crew would be exhausted from plying their trade all night. He wanted Jamal for himself, he would instruct his crew to keep him alive until he got to him. He wanted to stick the knife into him, feel the tissue and cartilage separate under the slice of the knife. He wanted to see the life leave Jamal’s eyes.

His erection was full and his hand gripped it hard, slowly moving up and down. It was an unconscious motion. Whitey’s eyes seemed to roll back into his head and his eyelids were half-way closed. His glazed look stared ahead aimlessly as his heart rate increased.

He could taste the fear he would subject Jamal to. He had done it before; he had killed before and he loved the sensation. His hand moved faster. He would corner Jamal like a caged animal; make him beg for his life. The torture would be brutal, he would cut off an arm, maybe even a leg.

From the recesses of his conscious mind, he heard the water in the shower stop. Moments later his glazed eyes picked up movement as Themba walked into the room. Themba’s head was covered in a towel. He heard Whitey moan, but paid no attention. He was tired and wanted to cream his body and sleep.

“Come here,” he said softly.

Themba did not hear him and proceeded to dry himself with the big white bath towel. Whitey stared at Themba’s naked body, feeling his erection grow even harder.

“I said come here,” he whispered hoarsely.

Themba knew what that tone implied and he was in no mood for it tonight. He pretended not to hear and folded his body to dry his ankles and legs.

Suddenly he let out a sharp scream as Whitey grabbed his waist and flung him onto the ground. “I said come here you deaf bitch, didn’t you fucking hear me?”

The look in Whitey’s eyes made Themba cower with fear. “Please don’t hurt me,” Themba was really afraid “I’ll do anything you want.”

His eyes still glazed, Whitey wrapped his huge hands around Themba’s neck, pushing him violently, face-first, against the cupboard.

“Whitey, please, I love you.” Themba’s plea was desperate.

“Good, then you’ll enjoy this as much as I will.”

The pain was excruciating without lubricant and Themba screamed loud as he felt Whitey’s rough entry. He felt Whitey’s fingernails rip into the flesh on his shoulder as each thrust inflicted deeper pain. Themba’s face was wet with tears, sobbing like a wounded animal. Whitey looked down and saw blood spattering on the white towel, and his own lust heightened. He rammed into Themba with such force that his own foreskin tore, but he was oblivious to the pain.

Mercifully it was over quickly and he dropped Themba to the floor and let out a satisfied laugh. “Clean up this mess bitch, I will be back later.”

Themba quivered on the floor, not able to move. He hated Whitey when he was like this, but he knew that Whitey loved him and that he would say he was sorry and buy him gifts tomorrow. He knew Whitey loved him; he was the only person who loved him. A little bit of pain wasn’t so bad compared to all the good things Whitey did for him.

Malik Sufyan watched his daughters playing. It was a game they often played with him. They called it restaurant-restaurant. The younger girl would pretend to be a waiter and chef and take the order of the older girl, before disappearing into her room. A few moments later she would reappear with a tray laden with the order. Everything on the tray was plastic though and came straight out of the younger girl’s toy box. Malik enjoyed watching them, their innocence was appealing.

Najma, who’s name meant star, was 6-years-old and had already wormed her way so deep into Malik’s heart that he could not deny her anything. Rania, meaning queenly, was 12 and already showed signs of a very controlled and perfectionist personality. She was a serious child around almost everybody except Najma. Najma had a way to make Rania laugh and forget about succeeding at everything. When Najma was born, Rania claimed Najma to be hers and only hers, Najma was her special gift from God.

Continued tomorrow 26 May 2026, before 12pm