Chapter Two
Margot entered the Ambassador’s Residence. She knew she should go find Journee and check on her, let Journee know she was back. But could she take a shower first? She had to smell like breastmilk and maybe like sex as well.
She probably could not sneak in a shower without talking to Journee first. If she took a shower without even saying hi, then Journee might suspect something anyway.
Margot always greeted everyone first thing when she arrived home. Journee and Brinlee, when Brinlee still lived at home, had teased her about it. Margot’s “Hi, how are you doing?” roll call.
But, first, before finding her daughter or taking a shower, there was something more important Margot had to do.
Margot had the two stoppered vials of breast milk Queen Muunu gave her. Queen Muunu had invited the U.S. to test the Rambikkun milk. That was probably a good sign. One, Queen Muunu had nothing to hide. Two, America was still in the running for the Rambikkun breast milk supply.
She better put them in the fridge so they wouldn’t spoil.
And so that she wasn’t holding vials of breast milk when she said hi to her youngest daughter! Too weird but even weirder thinking she had far more milk in her tummy than in these vials.
Far more.
She felt so full. Not achy full any longer but still uncomfortably full. Her body was digesting Queen Muunu’s milk. She guessed some of it was in her bloodstream, with more on the way as more was digested.
This diplomatic mission was so fucked up!
Margot wished she could back out but knew she couldn’t. It was too late. She was already here.
If that asshole Northman knew about any of this before he sent her here…!
And sent her daughter here with Margot! That was most unforgivable of all. But how would she ever determine he knew beforehand?
Even if she found out he knew, she couldn’t leave now.
She’d come so far already, in miles and in milk drinking. She’d already breastfed. Now that the worst was over, there was no sense punking out.
She better stick it out. Fuck Northman, but America was counting on her whether he was an asshole or not.
She better get these milk samples into the fridge. Did they have a fridge? She wasn’t sure. Yesterday was such a long day that they hadn’t fully toured the place.
She found it in the kitchen right where anyone would expect it. It was well-stocked.
Where to put it? She didn’t want to leave vials of milk sitting on a top shelf or anywhere in plain sight. She guessed she could explain it to Journee. It was a part of her mission, but she hadn’t told Journee that gigantic “detail.” She’d tell Journee when she had to and leave out the part where she’d guzzled down breast milk from Queen Muunu’s tits….
Margot put them behind a coconut. She almost laughed, a little bitterly, exasperated, thinking the coconut would help her remember where she’d put the breast milk. And remind her of Queen Muunu’s big breasts.
The coconut was big but definitely smaller than either of Queen Muunu’s breasts.
And, to think, at least four diplomats fed from those breasts before Margot. Yet Queen Muunu had not run dry and Margot had overfilled her belly with breast milk.
There. That took care of that though she wasn’t sure how she’d get the samples delivered to Northman. Maybe she’d assign that task to Deja Jenkins. Deja was her assistant, her “black token” that Northman thought might garner goodwill with the Rambikkuns.
Except, it didn’t matter what the Rambikkuns thought, right? It was all about Queen Muunu. It wasn’t like she sought permission from her people or had a parliament or a congress as a check on her power. And she probably did not survey what her people thought and probably did not care much.
Well, hopefully, Queen Muunu liked that they’d brought Deja as an assistant. The Rambikkuns – Queen Muunu – only allowed each ambassador a team of one. And she required each ambassador be a female, a beautiful one, that each ambassador must be the mother of at least one attractive adult daughter, and that they must also bring at least one daughter with them.
It was supposed to be a respect thing. But now Margot suspected it was something else. More like disrespect towards other countries.
She wondered why Deja wasn’t especially good-looking. Appearances did not matter in a black woman? To the Rambikkuns or to Northman? Did Northman know Margot, and possibly her daughter, would be sexually objectified in Rambikku, perhaps because they were exotic, but a black woman would not be?
Objectified. More than objectified.
That wasn’t just breastfeeding that Margot did with Queen Muunu if you could minimize one adult breastfeeding from another adult as “only” breastfeeding.
No, that was sex! For sure! Queen Muunu had penetrated Margot. With one and then a second finger. Margot, much to her shame and confusion, had orgasmed.
Sex. It was sex. And, during it, Queen Muunu had talked about doing the same thing with Margot’s daughter, Journee. The big-titted black bitch even knew her daughter’s name! Queen Muunu knew the names of both of Margot’s daughters.
No, Queen Muunu had not talked about fingerfucking Journee, but she had talked about breastfeeding Journee. Margot bet, to Queen Muunu, breastfeeding and fingerfucking went together. She had to assume so in order to keep her daughter safe.
There was no way she’d ever bring Journee with her on a visit to Queen Muunu!
Also, Margot was no longer interested in having Brinlee come to Rambikku for a visit. She needed to stay safe in the U.S.
Should she send Journee back to the U.S.?
Would the Rambikkuns – Queen Muunu – let her do that? They’d insisted Margot bring an adult daughter. If she sent Journee packing, literally, would they look at that as a sort of bait and switch? Would it ruin the diplomatic mission?
What could she tell Journee to make her go back?
Not the truth! Hell to the no!
Margot sighed. She needed to avoid overreacting. Queen Muunu’s talk was only words. And maybe that breastfeeding was a one-time thing, like a welcome to her kingdom thing. One of Queen Muunu’s new traditions.
Yeah, Queen Muunu made up her own traditions as she went along. Ones everyone had to go along with.
Everyone. Hey, that was an idea. Queen Muunu was swamped with diplomats. All of them sexy. All of them with pretty adult daughters along with them in Rambikku. Queen Muunu had rejected some diplomats, or they her, but that still left dozens of countries, maybe over a hundred, and as many or more diplomats and their daughters.
Queen Muunu simply would not have time to fuck around with every diplomat every day, let alone their daughters.
Journee should be safe.
Margot frowned. Journee was so beautiful. So was Margot. And they both had red hair. That was pretty exotic here in central Africa.
Shit. Maybe Queen Muunu would make time for them.
Time to check on Journee.
She wandered about and called out. No sign of Deja, who was staying with them.
She heard a muffled response. Good, Journee was home.
Journee came downstairs. She wasn’t her usual bouncy self. She looked tired and red-eyed. She wore a bright pink bikini bottom and a thin long-sleeve shirt.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Journee, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I got sunburned a little, I guess. I was taking a nap. After… the pool and… after the sunburn.”
“You took a nap while those two guides were here?”
“Oh, you… met them?”
“Yes, they were on their way out as I was on my way in. You can’t just leave guests unattended. It’s rude, and I’m sure they have thieves here in the country. You don’t know if you can trust them.”
Journee snorted tiredly, “I bet they have fewer thieves in Rambikku than in America. Yeah, I’m pretty sure I know whether I can trust them.”
Which was very different than saying she knew she could trust them.
“They said they’re coming back tomorrow.”
“Yeah, they told me.” Journee had a distant -- perhaps troubled? – look as she thought about their return.
Had Journee and those two native girls had some communication issues?
Then Journee said, “They told me you have to spend breakfast and lunch with that Queen of theirs tomorrow.”
“Oh. I didn’t know.” Margot felt a lurch in her belly. But it was hard to define. Was that revulsion or hunger?
Journee asked, “How’d it go with the Queen today?”
“Um, nice. Queen Muunu is… nice.”
“Did she… feed you?”
Margot was sure the question was innocent. It was a typical question. Still, it worried her and made her feel self-conscious.
“Well, yes, I’m quite full. Did you eat? Did you feed the guests?”
“I ate. I guess they fed me, really.”
“That was nice of them.”
Journee did not look convinced.
Margot told her, “Oh, they fed you something new? Different foods in different countries. You’ll get used to it, and it’s good to respect their traditions and to be seen eating their foods. That can be a part of diplomacy.”
“Sure. If you say so, Mom.”
“Oh, hey, those liaison girls asked me to make sure you know to listen to them and do as they say. That might be important in an African country like this. There could be dangers around. So, make sure you do what they tell you to do. Have you been?”
Journee hesitated, almost a freeze, and then answered, “Yes, Mom. I’ve been doing what they want me to do.”
“That’s nice. Keep doing that.”
“Um, sure. I guess.”
Margot felt almost exquisitely uncomfortable. When the two of them were apart for hours or half a day like this, she and Journee usually hugged. It was part of their greeting, a part of their closeness.
Margot did not want to hug right then because she hadn’t had a chance to clean up from her… orgasmic breastfeeding.
It looked like Journee wasn’t coming closer for a hug, either. She remained standing a few steps up from the main floor. It was like she did not want to be on the same level as Margot.
But Margot had to go up those stairs.
It would probably look weirder if she did not hug Journee. That might give away that something happened during Margot’s trip to see Queen Muunu.
Plus, poor Journee! Sunburned!
Margot stepped up several steps until she was on the same step as Journee.
“Here, hugs. I’ll be gentle because of your sunburn.”
Margot and Journee hugged. Margot was extra gentle, but that meant the hug took longer.
She was self-conscious about her smell because she knew she must smell like milk and maybe like sex also. In fact, both smells seemed more obvious and stronger, when they hugged, but luckily Journee did not seem to notice. She didn’t say anything.
Perish the thought of Journee noticing and ever suspecting anything! How would Margot respond if Journee said something like, “Gee, Mom, you smell like you’ve been guzzling breast milk, spilling it all over yourself, and like you had sex at the same time.”
She sure wouldn’t tell Journee the truth!
They broke the hug, and Margot went up the stairs.
Journee called out, “I’m going outside by the pool. But, don’t worry, I’ll stay in the shade.”
“Sure thing, sweetie! I’ll probably take a nap. I’m feeling that jetlag.”