On a Mission

An exciting month in West Africa


Out hiking 8 months later

Hi, my name is Sarah, my family are Baptists although what they believe never made much sense. When I was 14 and to curb my drive to simply be myself, they persuaded me to participate in a VSA program. It was mostly because I found my own family so irritating that I agreed to go, though I had no idea what I was getting in to.

So a couple of months later I spent a week in Paris brushing up on my French and then flew to Senagal where I was met by John and Mary Taylor. They were like my parents but even worse in that sickly kind of Christian way, you know being self-righteous and all that. Anyhow we spent a couple of days in Dakar which was pretty boring. The local people were really nice and there was a stream of visitors all day followed by a prayer meeting in the evening. John was very condescending towards the locals and I thought it strange how they accepted him in good grace.

On the second day, a shipment of bibles arrived and I was given the job of helping repack them with food parcels because the next day we were going into the interior. The task itself was quite boring but I was helped by couple of local women who were very nice and somewhere inside myself I knew that this missionary work was pretty stupid.

Mary must've sensed my displeasure and she reminded me that we had to do God's work with good grace. Then I had to help with dinner preparation but Maria the cook, (I don't think it was her real name), she made the experience very pleasant and as John was getting ready for the prayer meeting, Mary who was also a nurse was asked to attend to a birth.

John's prayer meeting was a farcical because his French wasn't much better than mine. Then the meeting was over I found myself alone with John. As we were leaving in the morning, he asked me to help him load the truck; one of those Toyota four-wheel-drives. It was something to do but then I couldn't believe that he was flirting with me and making more body contact than was necessary, but it kind of eased my boredom.

When the truck was loaded, Mary still hadn't returned, he insisted that I go and pray with him. There seemed like no way out so I dutifully followed him into the house. He had me kneel beside him and I was very surprised when he poured two small glasses of whiskey. He said that malaria is a big problem and that whiskey helped prevent it.

He made me take some but it was too disgusting so he drank mine before he began reciting some prayers. I felt like I was trapped and I wasn't at all surprised when he put his hand under my dress. Like he'd been flirting with me earlier and I'd heard so much in the news about paedophile priests which was a forbidden subject in our house.

So I didn't put up any real resistance and after playing a little hard to get I let him rape me. I'm not sure if my parents ever suspected, but I'd been having sex for a couple of years and actually the experience wasn't too unpleasant. But afterwards I went to the bathroom and cleaned myself thoroughly.

The next morning we were up early and driving to a place called Matam. I had to sit on the back seat between Mary and a rather large but lovely man called Jacob. John sat in front with the driver, a rather scrawny looking man called Idriss. Every once in awhile we'd stop to stretch our legs and around midday we drove down a narrow dusty road. We arrived at a little compound where John conducted a prayer meeting for a group of his converts who in return gave us lunch.

For most of the afternoon, John talked and recited prayers, Mary fell asleep and it was nice when John finally shut up. It was really hot despite the air-conditioning and every now and again Jacob would tell me short stories about where we were. Sometimes John would interrupt and I'd ask about how many converts in the area or some other trivia.

In the evening we arrived somewhere, like it was just a small village. The people gave us food and John lead a meeting while Mary attended to some minor medical problems. During the prayer meeting I'd seen a group of people arrive and afterwards it turned out that one of them needed medical care. With the prayer meeting over, the newcomers came into the light and after some negotiation they were baptised into the church and then Mary attended to their medical needs.

I thought that was a bit unfair but it was getting late and I slept in one of the tents that Jacob and Idriss had erected. It wasn't the best sleep I'd ever had and the next morning I felt a bit grumpy especially because I had to wear the same clothes as yesterday. But everyone else was cheerful, John and Mary conducted another prayer meeting before breakfast and then after blessing our hosts we left.

An hour later we stopped in the town and because my jeans were so uncomfortable, I bought a couple of cotton skirts. Mary was shadowing me and ensured they were not too short in case the the men got ideas. I knew what she meant but I acted innocent and before we got back in the truck I was more comfortably dressed in a skirt and T-shirt. We drove for another couple of hours and we were met with another missionary family. This was quite a big village and after a quick introduction to Pastor Greg, his wife Sally and daughter Maryann, I was put to work helping to sterilise and dress some minor wounds.

Then before dinner John asked me to walk with him and he began telling me about all the protocols of mission work. But as soon as we were alone, he raped me again. This was to be the routine over the next five days and to keep onside with Mary, I took an interest in her style of medical care and helped in the clinic. We would go to a different village everyday as we made our way south and after two nights in Tambacounda we visited Velingara Crater.

That was amazing but I overheard Mary complaining to John that he was going out of their way and asking if why he was being so nice to me. I never let on that I'd heard, but it took me on my guard.  But we continued south and crossed into Guinea and the town of Koundara where after the evening prayer meeting, John went off with a group of rough looking men. Mary was very protective and made me wear a scarf over my head. Initially I protested but even Jacob said that it was a good idea. Then for a few days we travelled around dusty backroads stopping to give out bibles and food parcels or 'heal the sick'.  John was delighted when he was able to baptise people in exchange for money or medical help.

Then one night there was commotion outside and within minutes, we had packed up our stuff and drove into the bush. I don't know how Idriss knew where he was going, but by morning we'd arrived on the edge of a town. Two women appeared and Mary told me to go with them. They took me to a house not far away then stripped my clothes off and applied some kind of dark colouring over my body and died my hair. Then after my hair was tied up in the local style, I was dressed in burqa and driven all night through the bush by a stranger with only Joseph for company.

He told me not to talk but said there was trouble back there and h'd get me back to Dakar. When the driver told us to get out, he said that John and Mary had been involved in supplying weapons to rebel groups and all their Bible nonsense was mostly just a cover to create political unrest. When I asked about my money and stuff, he had my money and documents, but I'd probably never see my clothes again.

I felt very safe and comfortable with him and after we'd walked all day, I must've been dead tired because I fell asleep straight away and in the morning after eating little fruit for breakfast we must've walked for 3 or 4 hours when he got me to climb up into and wait. He came back an hour later with some food and then walked again for the rest of the day.

He told me little about his life, but a lot more about local politics and the trouble the mission was creating. I shared with him what I knew about the other criminal behaviours in the church and how some ministers were raking in millions of dollars while their parishioners starved. But most of our conversation was whispered and there were times when he told me to be quiet, and this was usually because there were people nearby.

That first day of walking, the burqa was extremely troublesome but I solved this problem by tying the skirt up around my waist. Jacob laughed and said that I had a nice arse, but it was a very sensible option as it let me walk more freely. But on that third day I took the thing right off and just carried draped over my shoulders. Jacob didn't seem to care, he just laughed and then completely ignored my body which I found so weird because every other man I'd ever known always stared even when I was fully dressed.

On the fourth day out, he'd just come back from getting food, I could sense some concern as he told me to get dressed and then we hid in a dense thicket. A couple of times during the day we heard voices and what conversation we had was whispered very softly.

Laying so close beside him all day made me feel incredibly aroused and yet he seemed to be uninterested so I asked if he was gay. He was offended for a minute and I did my best to assure him that in most western countries sex was mostly just harmless fun. Then he raised the subject of John the fact that I'd been having sex with him. I don't know how he knew, but I told told him that I had no choice as in effect he was raping me.

It took some explaining, but I think I got him to understand that at least from my perspective, that under the law men and women have equal rights. Within the wider context of civilisation, men are allowed and even encouraged to have sex before marriage and with multiple women whereas women are often expected to only ever have sex with the man they marry.

He agreed that that was the situation here as well and that within Islam, a woman is basically her father's or her husband's property. We'd walked till nightfall and I was hungry but we had nothing to eat. Jacob found a few dry and bitter fruits they were almost impossible to eat, so we retreated into a patch of scrub where he carefully cleared away the leaf litter and we made ourselves a kind of bed in the sand.

I'd been just carrying my burqa all day, like it was almost 40° and being butt naked in the bush was kinda cool and there were many times I wished that he'd notice me. So here we were with my burqa laid out and me laying on it as he finished brushing away the leaves and probably a few scorpions or other nasties when we heard voices nearby.

We both shrunk into the ground and its kind of the first time we really touched physically since we were sitting together in the truck, or when a few times he'd held my hand to climb over some obstacle and my whole body tingled.

The voices soon faded away and as I enjoyed that sense of closeness to him, I put my arm across his broad shoulders and whispered that I liked being that close to him. But the effect of my fingers stroking the back of his neck and my nipple pressing into his arm got his attention, or at least he didn't pull away.

I guess he's probably about 6 foot 4, very good-looking and built like a champion athlete. He said that we shouldn't be doing this but I said that I liked him and it was the only way I could show my appreciation. Then slowly he began to touch me, he took this time and then as he half turned, I pressed myself against him and felt an enormous bulge in his pants.

Remembering to stay quiet, I whispered that this was something I had to know and he said that it was probably something I shouldn't know. By then there was no turning back and it took me another half hour to get his clothes off and begin to appreciate that he was almost twice my size, and as much as I was fascinated by his humongous cock, I was also scared that it might break me. But in fact it was absolutely wonderful. He was gentle, considerate and he lasted for ages.

Sometime afterwards he went away and it was morning before he got back with some nice food. When he told me to put on my burqa. I did as he asked and without thinking hitched it up around my waist. But he told me to let it down and hold out my hands. I did so and he bound my wrists tightly with a cord. He told me we were walking through a very dangerous town and I was not to speak or look directly at anyone.

Within half an hour we'd come to a road and then there were more and more people. Even though my French is pretty bad, a few guys asked if I was for sale but most of the conversation he had was in the local language. When we'd left that town far behind and gone back into the bush, he untied me.

The next two days I enjoyed being naked and although he kind of disapproved, he was just as eager as I was to have sex and I enjoyed his company. I dredged up pretty much all the gossip regarding paedophilia and sex crimes in the church that I could remember but it was more fun talking about the possibilities of freedom.

Then I had to be dressed and well behaved to make a ferry crossing, and after another night sleeping in the bush we slept in a hut. We were back in Senegal and Jacob used his knife to turn my burqa into a rough kind of dress. Another day's walk took us to a village where we were looked after but the sleeping space was communal so I missed Jacob's affection. Our story was that I'd gone to America as an orphan when I was a baby so never learned the local languages, then after coming home we'd been kidnapped and robbed.  I don't know we were believed, but the people were really kind and one of the girls gave me a much nicer dress.

We walked again all day and after swimming in a river, my artificial skin colour was noticeably starting to fade. Joseph said I should maintain the disguise so he collected some plants, pounded them to a pulp and mixed them with some animal dung, then he rubbed it all over my body. I protested that I was smelt like an old camel, but after a couple of hours I didn't even notice the smell. We slept out that night and arrived at another village the following day. Then after enjoying the villagers hospitality we got up early and went to the bus stop.

The bus was just an overloaded pickup truck which took us to a much larger village and then we squeezed into an overcrowded minibus which took us to a larger town. Here Joseph took me to a compound where I was able to wash off most of my dark skin colour. But after cleaning up and coming out my hair, I felt great. We had a nice meal, another great night sleeping together and the next morning we took a bus to Dakar.

The bus arrived late and Jacob wanted to take me directly to our consulate, but I really wanted to spend the night with him. Thankfully he shared my sentiment and we shared a cheap hotel room. The next morning he took me to the consulate where I learned that John and Mary had been rescued and were back in America. Jacob had given me my money and documents but I knew I'd never see my clothes again. But a lady from the consulate insisted on seeing me safely onto my flight and I didn't get a chance to properly say goodbye to Jacob.

When I arrived in Paris I was dressed in a bright Senagalese dress, no underwear and no luggage. I think the guys on security were amused and then I was met by an Embassy official and a group of people from the church. After a quick shopping trip, I was thrown back into plastic religiosity. There was a long prayer before an evening meal over which my hosts tried to learn what I knew about the activities of John and Mary.

I didn't let on that I knew their secrets, and that evening after prayers the man of the house tried to rape me but later on his son who was a year older than me jumped into my bed and after a decent struggle, I finally let him have his way. But I lay there thinking about Jacob and the kindness of all the people I'd met along the way.

After a few days in Paris I went home and had to endure being cross-examined by many different people and after getting raped by my own brother, I escaped and stayed with one of mum's sisters in California. I got to know a bunch of slightly more normal people, I did another six months in high school and then quit to take a job as secretary to a guy with a car dealership.

The work's easy, I get out on weekends and really enjoy the mountains. My boss and a few guys continue to rape me although in some ways I don't really mind too much. It seems like the only way a girl can get ahead is to open her legs, but at least here I've got the birth-control and I was really lucky in Senagal not to get pregnant.

Further reading:
The church and terrorism
Christian terrorist groups USA
Baptists in India


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