A White Man Haunted by Evil Spirits Part 1

WernerPlayer   March 30, 2022   | 4973 Views
My dramatized true story as a white man in rural Africa involving blackmail, witchcraft, and extreme sexual experiences Luxury


Exciting and sometimes strangely talented women have always been part of my life. I want to share some experiences and fantasies I had with Kamari from South Africa, hoping they will motivate you to get some more extraordinary sexual experiences and to turn on your body, mind and, fantasy.

I will talk about my thoughts, dreams, and experiences with her. She is still my very big Love, a unique and special African woman. I had the pleasure to spend some mystical and magical time with her. It all started some 30 years ago in rural South Africa.    

The first time I met her, was when I was living in a rural area in the Free State Province during the time of Apartheid in South Africa. Nearly every day I was going to a shop where a beautiful voluptuous mature black woman served me at the groceries store.

There was a strange kind of attraction between us every time we met but it was not allowed at that time to come nearer to each other. It was forbidden by culture and by law in South Africa since I was a white man originating from Germany.

One day I dared to approach that mystical African woman. I invited her to accompany me on a business trip to the Goldfields, knowing exactly that would never happen but surprisingly a few days later she agreed, and we spent a week together… this week has changed my life, my sexual feelings, and desires forever. I became addicted to everything she was!


When we reached our destination and got into the “hotel room”, it was a kind of traditional African hut, we started straight away to kiss passionately, and she undressed instantly. I was confronted with a typically shaped mature African body, a mother of three children with big saggy tits, a flabby belly, and a big ass.

She opened my pants without asking and pulled out my cock. “Now fuck me as much as you want, I am all yours,” she told me begging and somehow demanding. It was the first time I made love to such a ’natural’ woman! I can just tell you it was awesome. Her body was a bit wobbly and hot, her big tits were sensitive and soft, and her pussy was soft, wet, and juicy. We just fucked and fucked and made love until we were both exhausted and satisfied.

After recovering from the act, I started to examine her body more thoroughly; she had a strange but somehow exciting odor, and I got to know it comes from the hut where she was living.

They make fire inside the house and the smell of the smoke gets deep inside the skin and clothes since they wash themselves and their laundry with pure soap bars without perfume. The body cream or lotion she used was Vaseline Petroleum Jelly, another scent unknown to me.

When I examined her big soft pussy, I discovered a long labium shaped like two long ropes. Strange but exciting I thought while she explained that since her girlhood she was massaging and stretching her ‘handworks’ to make them longer.

“That’s what African men like”, she explained, “it is like the long straight hair your white women are so proud of when they disclose them in the bedroom, and I am proud of my long ‘bedroom curtains’”.

I got so dazzled about her explanations and started to kiss and suck her XXL pussy flaps. Her juices tasted sexy and intense, it was an aphrodisiac for me, and I started to make love with her again.

She was a unique big African jewel. During the night I already realized that she was casting a spell over me, I felt that I was entering into a different world full of unknown feelings and desires…

She was so awesome and natural in her way she performed the most obvious things in life even the act of relieving herself from pressurizing liquids. For this purpose, a bucket with a lid stood in the corner of the hut.

She placed herself on the bucket with her big buttocks starting to relieve herself with strong loud gushes. I wished I could see that explosion and not just hear the gushing against the plastic bucket. She smiled at me, and I could see the relief on her face. I smiled back at her wishing the next time she will use me as her bucket.

“I want to clean your pussy, please come over to me, I will lick you dry” I requested, and, to my surprise, she didn’t object. I buried my mouth into her still wet pussy to absorb the last remaining drops of her warm liquid.

She realized how much I enjoyed it and she managed to squeeze some more small gushes out for me. “Next time don’t throw your liquid into the bucket; I want to drink it all and get drunk from your natural champaign.” I requested.

“I can see it is true when my friend once told me that white men love to drink negro piss. Why do you like it?” She asked me.

“When I am horny and excited, I want to taste everything you have for me. I guess it is like when you eat your beloved chicken, you don’t leave anything worthwhile even nothing for your dogs,” I tried to explain myself.

“You talk about chicken, are you not hungry? Let us order some KFC chicken and I will show you how I eat a delicious chicken.

”She ate everything from the chicken pieces. The cartilages seemed to be a delicacy and the bones were sucked out dry from the marrow. “I am satisfied now; chicken is always good for me,” she said only leaving a small heap of crushed bones in the box.

“I have to poop now. Shall I throw it into the bucket, or do you want to eat my sausages filled with the left leftovers from the chicken?” Kamari asked curiously, wondering about my reply.

“I am not so desperately hungry today, but thanks for the offer,” I joked, “but as a desert, I wouldn’t mind licking your chocolate buttocks. You are my baby tonight.”

“Are you serious? That means what my friend told me about some white men is true again. You people are weird!” she exclaimed.

“Do you think so?” I tried to defend myself. “When I have such a wonderful lady like you at my disposal then I want to eat and enjoy everything edible from you only leaving the parts which could upset my stomach. That is the same thing you do with your chicken, isn’t it?”

(In Southern Africa people like to speak about sexual issues in metaphors of food)

“No way, you can’t compare my love for eating chicken with your love to eat me. Perhaps you are a disguised cannibal, and I must run away from you as quick as possible,” Kamari replied with a scared expression

I could see the distrust and fear in her face. “No, my dear, not at all. Did your friend say that white men braai (it is a traditional word for grilling) and eat black women after they make love to them? Only Black Widows do that.”

Kamari was pondering. “I am now here with you Werner because I came of my own will and wanted to experience for myself if it is true what my friend told me about white men. I am a sceptical but curious woman, but my gut feeling tells me that I can trust you somehow. I also like you in a certain way but always wonder what will happen next.”

She went back to the toilet bucket and sat down. “Will you come to me, look into my eyes and, kiss me while I do my business, please,” she requested.

I looked deep into her eyes and wondered what was in her mind now. Suddenly she started to release some loud and long farts diffusing her very private odor into the room. She was still trying to smile at me while pressing hard to get the job done.

As soon as her droppings started to fall into the bucket, she began to kiss me passionately. That was my weirdest kissing experience ever. I enjoyed it very much and became horny. We both seemed to have twisted minds and similar fetishes.

“I am done, please help me up,” Kamari requested and went back to the bed.       

 “Don’t you want to check if your Baby is clean now?” She asked and laid back on the bed lifting her legs like a toddler. There was a small skid mark left and I removed it with my tongue. The smell was stringent, but the taste was comparatively blunt.

“Now you have tasted my ‘Korobela’, do you know what that means in our culture?” She asked me. “It means that you are mine now and you will automatically do whatever I want you to do,” she explained. “That is called Korobela.”

In some ways she was right; from this day on I could never let go of her even until now some thirty years later she is still very near to my heart and controls my emotional life.


Sangomas in Southern Africa are fortune tellers and Medicine Men or Women using natural herbs and the powers of the ancestors to heal as well as to put bad or good spells onto people.

At one time I decided to consult a renowned female Sangoma since I was experiencing some serious problems within the relationship with my wife.

Over some time, she, her name is Queenie, turned from being a loving and caring wife into a cruel and evil bitch using blackmail and abuse.

When I reached the hut of the Sangoma it was like entering into a secret sacred hideout. Outside it was scorching hot and bright and inside the hut, it was cool and dark without windows and an intense smell of strong herbs. At the far end of the room sat a big black Sangoma woman on the floor with a straw mat in front of her. The mat was covered with various bones, seashells, and dice.

She was a mature African woman with dreadlocks and her body was covered with animal skins. Around her wrists, ankle and neck were colorfully beaded bracelets and her ears donned heavy earrings. Her lips were voluptuous, the teeth big and white with one gold crown on the central incisor. The whole scenery was looking mysteriously and a bit scary, but I tried to put these thoughts aside since I was told before that this Sangoma could be the one to help me out of my misery at home.

“Sit down in front of me white man, look into my eyes and don’t say a word, not yet”, she ordered me. I got very curious about what to expect since I had never been to a Sangoma before.

I waited in anticipation until she suddenly started to shake her head and hands like she was getting an epileptic fit. Suddenly her shaking stopped, “I have connected with my ancestors, and they tell me, that you need my Muthi very urgently.  (Muthi is an African word for strong herbal medicine and witchcraft) I will throw the bones for you”

She took the bones and other items from the mat into the palms of her hands, shook them in all directions, opened her hands and, spat into them. “Now it is your turn, spit onto the bones.”

So I did, and she started shaking them in all directions and finally throwing them onto the straw mat.

She looked at the random configuration of the fortune-telling items while she started to shake her head and arms again. “I am connecting to you through my ancestors. Wait until I get an answer,” she explained.

“Oh ah oh ah ohhhh you are in big trouble”, she concluded, “but I will help you. You are experiencing immense problems with your partner. She has poisoned you. She uses very strong Muthi to make you helpless against her evil spirits and her evil mind. She abuses you and even tries to remote control you with the help of her Sangoma. Oh ah oh ah ohhhh, but don’t worry, I have stronger Muthi than her Sangoma. Trust me I am better than her evil witch doctor. I will win,” she assured me.

The Sangoma turned around and got some items from her herbal pharmacy. She collected a variety of dried herbs, crushed them with a pestle in a clay bowl preparing two big jugs of herbal tea.

“Now we will start the first part of my treatment. You drink this full jug, and I will drink my jug. It is a bit bitter but after a few minutes, you will feel that something goes on in your body; drink it quick,” she recommended.

It tasted bitter, but I managed to drink the lot. She finished her potion before me and already started preparing the next concoction. From a basket, she chose a variety of fruits and vegetables and soaked them in a new brew of herbs. Her eyes started to roll like she was in a trance while mumbling and singing words I couldn’t understand.

The herbal mixture in my system started slowly to show some effects, there was a warm shiver going through my body and a sexual excitement was building up in my mind and gentiles.

I stared in disbelieve at the Sangoma while she was singing strange tunes and snapping with her fingers. She stood up still dancing but extended her movements to her entire body, stamping with her feet, and clapping with her hands. Her big breasts were shaking with the rhythm and underneath the cow hide skirt, her strong thighs moved like foreplay to a traditional mating ritual.

Her Muti tea worked intensely on me, I felt my cock growing and growing, bulging my pants. She realized it and danced even wilder, rolling her eyes, and shaking with her big tits. She came nearer and nearer to me still dancing wildly.

I was still sitting on the floor while she was dancing and clapping constantly with her hands coming nearer to me until the cow hide dress touched my face. Suddenly she stopped dancing. It was dead quiet. She lifted her skirt, grabbed my head, and put it underneath her skirt. “Smell my cave and inhale the odor!” she commanded.

My holy god. Where was I now? It was completely dark underneath her skirt in front of the opening of her cave. The thatched hut was dim, her legs were black, and the skirt covered me in complete darkness. “How does it smell?” she asked me.

“Intensive, but it makes me horny!”, I grumbled. “Goooood  oh ah oh ohhhhh we are getting there. This will now be your medicine chest and medicine dispenser. Use your tongue and go to the entrance of my cave. How does it taste?” She wanted to know from me. “Strong, slimy, and very moist” I replied moaning.

“Lick all the slime and get deep into the cave with your tongue” she commanded. I did it and it started to taste better and better. She was dripping wet. She was very hairy; her cave was in the middle of a thick forest. I started to endure it easier, and I guessed she was happy with the proceedings.

Suddenly a fountain of strong piss erupted into my mouth and onto my face. It was still completely dark underneath her dress. I grabbed her big ass with my hands and tried to drink all her piss medicine. It was a lot, a hell of a lot of bittersweet shale liquid. My hands were grabbing her ass harder and harder while she dispensed her medicine into my mouth. I nearly choked but managed to drink nearly all of it without spilling too much. I licked her big cave clean.

“Take your hands off my ass! Now put your finger deep into my anus and tell me what you feel” I stuck my finger deep inside the anus and felt that sausage was making its way through the intestines. “It feels like poop” I replied. “No, it is your medicine. Take your finger out and lick on it”. Yes, there was some small brown stuff on the tip of my finger. I smelled it, tasted it, and wondered what kind of weird traditional medicine that should be.

She stepped aside and my head got released from between her legs. She kneeled in front of me and grabbed my head with her two strong hands. Look deep into my eyes she ordered. Her eyes were big, shiny, and rolling in a trance, and in her mouth, she was chewing something slowly. I stared into her face and waited anxiously for what will come next. I didn’t have to wait long, until her arms got tenderly behind my neck, as she touched and hugged me like a good friend.

She continued chewing slowly and put her big voluptuous lips against my thin lips, then she transferred the chewed substance into my mouth. It tasted fruity like sweet porridge, not bad nor bitter, I liked it and ate the paste!

I perceived her treatment as a kind of exciting. She also realized that I was not disinclined to her actions, and she grabbed me again with her big hands but this time between my legs. My cock was swollen and excited. She took my balls into her hand and squeezed them; it was hurting. “I can see and feel my Muthi makes good progress, let me prepare the next potion”, the Sangoma said.

She got back to her straw mat and took the soaked marinated fruits and vegetables. “Now I will cook them in my cave and my anus for you,” she said with a grin on her face. “They will become very tasty and spicy. You will love them!”

She slowly took one by one of the fruits and stuffed them into her cave. My god, the cave was big, wet, and slimy again absorbing pounds of fruits and vegetables. Now she took some dried fruits from her herbal cupboard and stuffed them slowly into her anus. I counted twelve. It looked to me like she was having real pleasure in stuffing all the things into her cave and ass. That must have been enough food for a whole family meal.

“Now I must rest while the food is cooking, and you can assist me to speed up the process. Here is some massage oil. Give me a full-body massage. Make my body boil, then the food will cook very nice,” the Sangoma explained.

My God!? I could not believe what was happening right now! The hut was dark like a cinema, and I realized that she was taking off her leather skins. She exposed a unique African body with big breasts, and stiff nipples mounted on huge areolas. She was a big, massive woman and between her legs grew an African bush with some grey branches. Her ass was over dimensionally big and round, and her dreadlocks made her look like a scary voodoo doll.

She was lying down on a big blanket and said, “Now it is your turn”. I poured the oil on her back and started to massage her shoulders and spine. “Full body massage I said. Don’t be shy, it is part of my treatment but only for special customers like you. Massage where the food is cooking,” she commanded.

She had a beautiful, big, round ass and I massaged it with increasing intensity. While I rubbed her ass, I became very horny, my cock was getting very stiff, but I didn’t dare to let her feel that since she kept completely motionless, silent, and relaxed.

Her ass was getting hot, and I thought she was enjoying it even when I tried to put my fingers inside her anus to see how well cooked the fruits were. I presumed they were coming all right, it looked and smelled strange! It puzzled me why I was getting sexually aroused since these kinds of women never appeared in my dreams. It must have had something to do with the Muthi she gave me.

Now I was reaching her big thighs and massaged the oil into the soft and wobbly skin. It felt like I was living in an erotic comic story. Everything of this woman was over-dimensional, the buttocks were massive, the drumsticks gigantic, and her cave was huge! Scrolling further down over her firm calves I reached her feet. Man-sized feet with short toes. The whole body got an oily massage.

Now I turned her around and saw a big pitch-black woman with closed eyes motionless on her back, looking and smelling like dark peppermint chocolate. I touched her round face with my oily hands. She was still motionless even when I put my hands around her neck and throat, it felt like she was far away with her mind.

Her big black tits with stiff nipples were the next target of my full-body massage. For each breast, I needed both hands to oil them evenly. Her nipples were still hard and standing up, so I decided to take them into my mouth and massage them with my tongue. The nipples became even stiffer, but her body and face didn’t move an inch. I got kind of overwhelmed observing this huge black body lying motionless on the floor. I was not able to do anything to her since she seemed to be spaced out and guided by her ancestors while cooking my Muthi.

The last part of my full-body massage was going via the belly towards the oven where my medicine was cooking. I concentrated my work on the bush trying to soften the strong curly hair and stimulating her clitoris. She kept quiet, but I realized that her body was boiling inside the cave since some warm water and sticky white cream came out quietly. She was cooking my Muthi and it was about to get ready.

Suddenly she opened her eyes and looked at me with a smile. “Dinnertime my dear, your Muthi is ready to be consumed. Bring me the bowel over there, I will start to dish up”.

I was placing the bowel on the straw mat and the Sangoma kneeled over it. “Come here and lie down on your back where you can see my anus. I will start pressing now. The content of my cave gets into the bowel and the dried fruits from my intestines directly into your mouth. You must chew them nicely otherwise you will have a stomachache,” she warned me.

The Sangoma started by snipping her fingers accompanied by a Bantu song with a lot of clicking sounds. It was weird, scary, and irritating but also somehow an adventure I never experienced before; I could see how she was trying to press very hard. Her anus was opening and closing until the first fruit started to appear. I grabbed it with my mouth, pulled it out, and started chewing. It tasted like spiced dried fruits.

I heard the first vegetables dropping into the bowel. Her singing became louder, and the snipping of her fingers was followed by loud clapping with the hands. She seemed to work very hard getting the stuff out of the cookers. The next fruits came out and they were spicier than before. I also worked hard to take them out of her medicine dispenser, but I didn’t have enough time to chew them properly anymore.

The singing got louder and the clapping more intense. I counted ten fruits so far. She pressed very hard; the eleventh fruit was coming. One more to go, I finished all twelve. “Stop pressing” I begged, “they are all out now,” I assured her.

“Wait, I am not done yet, there is still something in my cave. Put your fingers in my ass otherwise, you will get a full load from my intestines” she advised me. I quickly plugged my fingers deep inside and could feel that she was still pressing but the singing and clapping had stopped.

“I am done!” she finally replied “don’t take your fingers out. Behind you should be a wooden anal plug. Get it and quickly replace your finger with the anal plug. Quick I have immense pressure!”

Luckily, I found the wooden tool behind me and managed to plug it inside before an accident happened. My fingers were a bit dirty. “Don’t clean your fingers, I need the remains for the Muthi. Come sit in front of me, we will prepare the meal together,” she suggested.

The bowel was filled with at least three pounds of slimy fruits and vegetables. I saw her cave was still wide open and dripping. “Now use your hands and start smashing the food until your hands are clean.” I smashed the food until it became a porridge.

“There is still something missing” she replies “do you see my hairy cave? The entrance was still wide open. Put your hands inside and collect all the creamy sauce you see and mix it into the porridge,” the Sangoma commanded.

A few minutes later I was done. “Now lick your fingers clean and tell me how it tastes”. I did so and answered with a twinkle in my eyes, “You forgot the salt but otherwise it is well spiced”.

“Sorry you are right, I forgot, but no problem I have a solution without spoiling my secret recipe”. She stood up and urinated into the porridge bowl. “Mix it and try again”.

“Now it is good” I replied. “Okay fine. You can sit over there on the goat hide and I will serve your dinner”. She took a clay cup, filled it up with her urine and, served me the porridge with her drink. “Eat all the porridge and just leave a small handful in the bowel. If you need more drink, there is still plenty inside me. Take your time, there is no hurry. Bon Appetite”

I started eating my porridge, the strangest medicine I ever had. It seemed nutritious and had this strong feminine taste. After finishing the porridge and leaving a bit like I was told, she served another drink, but this time straight from the source. “You have to drink as much as possible, the more you drink, the better the Muthi will work for us.

As a cherry on top, you can open the plug and get some extra strong brown cream. Just put the plug back when you have enough”, the Sangoma suggests.

“I think I am going to skip the cherry part, but thanks for the offer anyway,” I tried to reply boldly in the hope not to undermine her authority.

She went back to her place and put the remains of the porridge inside a jar. “Now I explain what you have to do with this left-over food. Mix that porridge secretly into the food of that bitch of yours. Try to add just a little bit of your fresh poop to it and mix it with the porridge. After a few days you will see the results,” she assured me.

“Okay, I will try to do so”, I promised her. “Well, that should do the trick. You have been an incredibly cooperative client, thanks, but I can see that we have some unfinished business on your side. Your treatment with me should have a happy ending for both of us,” she suggested.

The Sangoma pushed me back on the floor and pulled down my pants. Her herbal mixture was still influencing my gentiles. “I will take care of that little guy who is pointing straight at me,” she promised and took a seat on top of my fully erected cock. She started singing and snapping her fingers while she moved up and down burying my cock in her huge and wet cave. Her songs became louder and more intense, and our happy ending came during the third song. 

“Now we are finally finished with the first round of treatments. You go home now and do what I told you…. Another very important thing is that you tell no one about your visit to me and the kind of Muthi I was giving to you, otherwise it can turn against you and make things even worse. This principle rule is valid for all Sangomas. Keep that always in your mind! That is a piece of advice and a warning, especially for you, white people who are entering into the world of our ancestral powers and foresight” she warned me with caution and a serious expression on her face.

“Please tell me one more secret,” I asked her, “do you give this kind of intensive treatment to all your clients?”  

“No!” she replied with a confirming voice, “everyone gets an individual treatment on the advice from my ancestors. Your treatment today was very individual and very special. The ancestors hinted to me that I can try to go to the absolute extreme of the Korobela Muthi with you and I did exactly that.

I have heard from other Sangomas that the Korobela Muthi works better for white people than our other traditional procedures where we cut wounds to administer the herbs and burn herbs to inhale the smoke. You have been the first white man I treated, and I have never gone so far with my Korobela treatment. You are a very special client for me, and I can assure you that you did very well, and it was also inspiring for me.

That’s why I decided you must only pay me once the Muthi was successful. Come back in about one week and we will see what we must do next. Bye Bye white man”

When I got out of the dark Sangoma hut without windows, the sun was hitting me like a lightning flash. Within a blink of a second, I was back in the real world. On the way home I already developed ideas about how I could administer the Muthi to my estranged wife Queenie.....

To be continued at Part 2

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