by Chewy
Hope pushed though the bushes in mounting desperation. The briars tore at her strawberry blonde hair and tie-dyed clothes, cutting thin red lines across the tanned skin of her exposed arms and legs. She didn’t care, for she was on a desperate mission, a mission to save poor defenseless animals from the guns of brutish drunken hunters.
Hope was a member of PETA, and she had dedicated her life to protecting Gaia and all the wonderful cute animals which lived within her. To her, nothing symbolized the wickedness of humankind worse than hunting. To stalk some poor animal for meat and sport was an abomination. The idea of some innocent noble deer being slaughtered by some awful man made her weep with pity and blistering fury. She burned with the pure, unwavering fire of a zealot to do whatever it took to shield all living things from the bestial passions of the hunters.
Today was the first day of hunting season. She had passed pick-ups trucks filled with heavily-armed burly men on her way to this dense forest. She could barely restrain herself from clawing at them with her hands as she passed, knowing that soon these awful males would be elbow deep in the blood of slaughtered innocents. Soon after sunrise, she parked her Volvo on the side of the road and slipped into the woods, determined to interfere in any way possible.
She came to a dense stand of brush, panting heavily with exertion. She had spent too many nights snarfing down junk food with her activist friends discussing ways to halt the rape of Mother Nature. Now, all those extra pounds were catching up to her. Her tee-shirt was plastered over her cute, but slightly overweight frame, her large breasts straining at the fabric. She looked about, realizing she was lost. Despite her deep love of nature she rarely actually spent time outdoors. With a small gulp she realized she hadn’t told any of her college friends she was doing this, and no one would know where to look for her if she stayed lost, or worse, got eaten by some bear. As much as she worshipped nature, being eaten by a bear and ending up as bear poop wasn’t her idea of saving the planet.
She gave a startled jump when she heard a rustling off to her right. When she looked, she saw beautiful doe emerge warily from the brush, its delicate nose sniffing the air gingerly for danger. Hope sighed at how beautiful it was, just like a grown-up Bambi, a perfect blend of purity and innocence. This was a symbol of all she lived for, guileless natural beauty and grace compared to the awful materialistic world of rules and expectations, the world created by arrogant white men and their pawns.
Her eyes grew wide when she saw movement behind the deer. A branch moved aside, and a gloved hand and long camouflaged bow emerged, the evil glint of a razor-headed arrow clearly visible. She looked at the deer, blissfully unaware of the vile presence of men nearby. She sprinted towards the deer, fatigue forgotten, desperate to frighten the deer away before it was too late.
Hope heard a muffled thap of a released bowstring. The deer saw her, and sprang aside like it was made out of coiled springs. Hope saw the blur of the arrow pass through the space where the deer had been an eye-blink before, then continue straight onwards….straight into her.
Hope’s hazel eyes fluttered as she looked over the feathered shaft sprouting from her belly. Oddly, she thought how funny it looked with its bright red flowers and slim smooth shaft, so harmless looking now that the barbed head was hidden inside her.
The arrow had made a faint wet sound when it lanced into her. Hope staggered back, feeling like she had been punched in the gut. There wasn’t any real pain, just a dull sting and a feeling of fullness inside her, like she had just eaten a heavy meal. She looked at the deer as it raced away, its white tail flashing like an exclamation point as it vanished into the trees. She felt oddly annoyed that it ran away, as if it were supposed to thank her for eating the arrow intended for it.
She felt suddenly tired, exhausted from her labor. She knelt down, grabbing the shaft with her hands and giving it an experimental tug. It moved with a small sucking sound, and Hope felt her guts shift and slice as the steel barbs did their work slicing flesh and vein, mincing her from the inside. Her skin shifted, and a brilliant red gush of blood leaked out over her shorts and thighs, like she had turned on a faucet. She smelt the copper in her blood, felt how hot it was against her flushed skin. She felt clammy, as if the air had grown cold.
She felt a lump in her throat and coughed. Her mouth filled with blood and she instinctively spit it out, over her chin and chest. She puked more of her fluids, bathing her shirt and breasts in crimson moisture. Her tits stuck out from the soaked fabric, the nipples clearly visible, as if she were in some kind of ghoulish wet-tee shirt contest.
She looked up dizzily, feeling really cold and sick to her stomach. She pulled the arrow, releasing another violent gusher of blood. Suddenly petulant at the stubborn arrow she pulled harder, and it came free with a queasy plop. Stuff was stuck to the sharp tines, looking like fresh liver. She hated liver. Then she realized it was liver, hers.
That was it. She gave a scream, of fear that she was really in trouble, in pain as a hard ache spread through her torso. The scream came out a ragged gurgle, more blood than air, the fluid in her mouth frothing with bubbles like a hot cherry milkshake. She tried to rise, to get up and yell at the hunters that they had made a mistake, but her knees disobeyed and she slumped to one side, leaning on her arm in the weeds, watching the world spin around her. She flopped on her back, dimly aware that she was in big trouble. With a last flicker, she looked up at the trees and admired their beauty. Her last thought was whether the deer had appreciated what she had done for it.
“Heh Bert’, either that’s the funniest looking deer I ever saw or we’re in deep shit.”
Bert nodded, not a man for small talk. He nodded at Hank in agreement. He had been eager to bag a dear, but not one of the two-legged variety.
“Man how we’re going to explain this to the game warden? They get kinda pissed when you bag a person. Might pull our licenses.’
Bert nodded again. Getting his license pulled would be bad, even worse than having the TV go bust on Super-Bowl Sunday. Things couldn’t get worse than that.
The two hunters jogged over to the downed girl. They took a look at her glassy eyes and didn’t need to check for a pulse.
“Damm Bert, when you shoot something, it gets dead in a hurry. Nice liver shot, but it looks like you got a bunch of gut to. Be messy cleaning her.” Hank stopped, realizing that he was talking about a human being, a woman. Cleaning her torso out suddenly didn’t seem like the right thing to do.
“My god, maybe she ain’t dead, maybe we give her some mouth-to-mouth like they do in that ER show. Maybe a bit of CPR..’ Hank continued eyes lingering on her big boobs. CPR looked like fun. ‘I mean, we’re going to be in some real deep shit for this. My wife is going to kill me.”
“Hold up Hank’ Bert said. Bert was a man of few words, but Hank stopped, cause Bert was kinda smart and usually knew what to do. Plus he had a real mean temper and hated to have to say things twice.
Bert knelt by the girl. He felt her neck, then picked up an arm and dropped it, the bare blood-flecked limb flopping nervelessly back onto the ground. He looked her over, taking his time with her chest and legs, studying her like she were a particularly thorny problem. He looked at her tie-dye clothes, then picked up her hand and felt the soft palm.
“City girl’ he commented, as if that were a nasty disease. ‘Environmentalist’ he added, and that was a really spiteful thing to say about someone around here. Real fighting words. ‘I bet she’s one of those animal-lovers’ he finished, making it sound like a judge passing a death sentence.
“No,’ Hank whispered, as if disbelieving something so unpleasant could show up around here. “I mean she’s real pretty, and hell Bert, she’s even shaved her legs. Doesn’t look like one of those weirdo’s. Looks kinda cute even,’ he added giving her bosom and crotch a real hard long look.
“Nope, she’s a greenie for sure’ Bert declared, finishing the discussion. ‘Probably eats granola and thinks animals are all cuddly and cute. Maybe even one of those dykes, you know, the kind that hates guns and beer and guys and everything decent.’
Hank whistled, awed that they might have bagged a real in-the-flesh city lezzie. “Kinda makes it not seem so bad if that’s the case, I mean it’s not like she was a nice person,’ he muttered, feeling a lot better about the whole thing. Blowing away a local girl would have made him feel real sorry and got the neighbors all pissed off, but animal-lovers were, well, not real people. Tree-huggers hated everyone around here, and it seemed almost fitting to have knocked one of them off.
“Look Hank,’ Bert said in a casual tone, as if he were discussing the weather, ‘both of us are going to eyeballs deep in shit if this gets out. Those damn greenies are going to have a fit if they find out we’re shooting arrows into their womenfolk. This here girl is dead, and there ain’t nothin we can do about it now. Seeing as it was a plain old accident, I don’t see why we have to get in trouble.’
Hank looked at him, slowing figuring it out. ‘You mean just bury her?’
Bert stood thinking, then shook his head. ‘Not good enough. With our luck some developer will be digging up this place for yuppie condos in a few years and find her skeleton. Better really fix her up so she can’t be traced.’ Bert hesitated, as if he just had an idea but was a bit shy about saying it out loud. “We could just bring her home and toss her in the wood chipper, but it seems a god-awful waste. I mean she’s real pretty and we did promise our wives some fresh meat. And I’m so hungry I could eat bark off a tree. If you get what I mean.’
Hank looked a bit startled. You best friend doesn’t suggest you eat someone every day, even if was a tree-hugger. He looked at the body, checking out her long curved arms and full cute ass and the more he looked the better an idea it seemed. She did look like a turkey, well kind of, once you ignored the clothes and the fact that she was a lady. And waste was bad, and she was dead so it wasn’t like it was going to hurt her or anything………
Bert dropped Hope’s cool carcass across the hood of the pick-up truck and looked nervously at his wife. She was a good woman, and didn’t rattle easily, but he had never come back with a nude dead girl before.
His wife, Sue, looked a bit startled. She looked at Hope, then at Bert, who was acting a bit sheepish. “Awfully cute for a deer. You forget that you were supposed to be hunting stuff with four legs or were you just happy to see her?’ she asked, her voice pleasant but having a sharp edge.
Bert blushed, a bit embarrassed at the whole thing. He was a good hunter, real good, and bagging a lady by mistake was a serious goof. “Naw honey, you know I wouldn’t mess around on you. Its just that she, well, well she just got in the way. Silly lass is one of those animal-lovers, and she was trying to spook my dear, so, well, I guess I got her instead.’
Sue looked the naked girl over. She didn’t bother to check if she was dead, if her husband shot something, it got dead, no exceptions. She checked out the animal’s wounds, and complimented Bert on the liver shot. “You know her name or anything?’ she asked, as practical as her husband about such things.
“We buried her clothes back in the woods and burnt her ID, but her license said her name was Hope. From the city. Was a coed at that rich-kid college. Also had a Greenpeace membership card,’ he said, his voice filled with disgust at such a thing.
Sue looked at the buck-naked coed. She picked up an arm, feeling how cool it was, with the first hint of stiffness. She looked down at the girl’s belly, noticing her whole tummy was slit open. Pulling back the flaps of skin, she noticed the guts were missing. Just like a game animal. “You fixing on having her for dinner or just making her easier to carry around? She asked mildly.
Bert squirmed a bit. He looked over at Hank, who was positively wilting under the steely glance of his wife, Jane. The look on Jane’s face as she checked at the dead girl her husband had picked up could have killed a mule at fifty yards. He chuckled, knowing Hank wasn’t going get laid for a month unless he figured out a way to fix things.
“Well honey, she did have a heavy bunch of guts to lug around the woods. And well, just dumping her in the woods for the raccoons to get, well it would be a waste. I mean these greenies come out here, shut down the sawmills and everything, make enough laws to keep people from earning a decent living, well its like stealing food off our tables. Way I was thinking, well, its kinda fitting that this little tree-hugger do something to put food back on our table, if you know what I mean. It’s better then dumping her ass in the woods, and a whole lot better then getting sued or going to jail. They shove their noses in our lives, why not make them pay a bit?”
Sue hesitated, then gave a shit-eating grin. Never one to waste God-given gifts, she leaned over the back of the pick-up and pulled out a plastic jug of homemade barbecue sauce. Still grinning she said ‘Thank the lord I brought some extra sauce. Be more than enough for this plump city chick, don’t you think? I bet those legs will taste real nice with some hickory.’
Bert smiled, proud of his wife. She was a good mate, and once again he was grateful as hell for having her. He looked up at Hank, then Jane, who was giving a sly, knowing smile. Jane affectionately patted the dead girl on the ass. “Nice hams,’ she laughed unbothered by the fact she was touching another woman’s naked, and worse yet, cold and dead rump. ‘I was hoping for some venison, but I guess fresh piggie will be even better. Heh, does anyone think ladies taste like chicken?”
And with that, they all became eaters of their fellow man, or at least woman.
Hours later, Hope was done. She had a pole stuck up her ass and out the stump of her neck. Her head rested on a tree-stump nearby, her fish-eyed gaze resting on her browned body slowly turning over the fire. Melted fat and barbecue sauce ran down her slightly crispy flanks and fell hissing into the flame. Wisps of steam curled off the creamed-coffee hued derma and from the holes in her neck and crotch. Her arms were bound to her waist and each parched hand clutched an apple, and a tied-up bunch of carrots and a few potatoes had been thrust between her legs and in the space between her arms and torso so they could soak in her gravy.
The four happy cannibals sat around in beach chairs, sipping cans of beer, watching the chick cook. Hank did a lot of the basting, brushing Hope’s hot body with more and more sauce till his wife noticed how much attention he was giving the poor girl’s crotch. She told him that if he brushed Hope’s twat one more time she’d shove the brush all the way up his ass, so after that they all took turns keeping the city chick juicy and burn-free.
To everyone’s delight, cooking a chick was a lot easier than anyone thought. They had brought a spit to cook the dear they hoped to kill, and poor Hope was about the same weight as a big buck. She fit on the pole like she born to ride a spit, the steel shaft sliding straight up her butt-hole, through her emptied-out torso and into her esophagus. Being a well-groomed girl, they didn’t even have to shave any fur off her. Her bald beaver brought a few chuckles from the men and embarrassed blushes from the womenfolk. Sue spread the cunt lips apart and checked to see if either man had been having fun with the food, but the insides of the muscular cunt were nice and clean. Both Bert and Hank looked at her innocently, as if the thought of goofing off with the meat had never occurred to them. Just in case, Sue took a can of Coors and douched out the hole, figuring you can never be too careful with strange beavers.
They had regretfully had to cut off her head before they spitted her since no one could figure out a way to keep her hair from burning. Hank astutely remembered to cut out her tongue though, and inserted the bologna-like wedge deep inside the rather roomy cunt. Bert sawed off the head right below the jaw with a wire-saw he also used to cut down brush. Everyone did get a bit queasy when they heard the saw cut through the spine, and Bert had to twist loose some gristle before it came completely off.
All four were mildly surprised that a dead woman felt like pretty much any other large cut of meat. Her flesh was turning a light pinkish as it drained, kinda like wild pork. The two women weren’t too happy about feeling around inside the now-stiff torso. They finished cleaning out the guts and cut away the last fragments of bowel and other yicky stuff. They had both cleaned deer and pheasant before, but this was...different. Jane plain refused to yank out the ovaries, and Sue had to take over and pull it out along with the other ‘female’ parts, except for the twat, of course, which Bert and Hank insisted stay where it was. The two women gave in, though both swore hell would freeze over before they eat out another woman’s privates.
They stuffed Hope till she was ready to burst. The space where her lungs once were got filled with a bunch of foil-wrapped potatoes and some collard greens. Hope’s belly got a heavy load of shelled walnuts, alongside a generous packing of cornbread. They cut Hope’s liver free, packed it with onions and some garlic, then wrapped it up in tinfoil and stuck it back inside. Hope’ empty stomach got a load of garlic, onions, and collard greens and a can of Coors light as marinade, which would bake together nicely inside the muscular pouch. Once they were done, they stitched her belly back together with fishing line. They all got a good laugh when they were done for the chick’s tummy bulged, and the load wobbled as they moved her carcass, like she was carrying a huge load of jello inside her. Jane added a couple of stitches to keep Hope from popping open as she cooked.
They all helped spitting her. It was actually kinda fun, sort of a weird version on pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey, only this was stick-the-skewer-in-the-piggie. They laid Hope boob-down on a picnic table. Jane spread the dead girl’s legs open wide, which brought evil snickers from Bert and Hank. Then Bert lined the pole up right on the dead girlie’s puckered little butt-hole and shoved. The sphincter was loose and slid open as the shaft slid into her food-packed torso. Sue stood at the other end of Hope’s carcass, keeping the neck hole in line with the ass, and watching the pole slide in, giving an occasional correction if it slid out of line. There was a delicate moment when Bert hit the inner edge of Hope’s collarbone, the point making the skin at the base of her neck bulge. Bert pulled it back and tried again.
Sue saw a plug of stomach-stuffing ooze out of the esophagus, followed by the steel point. Everyone gave a mock cheer as the spitting was completed. Bert experimentally lifted the girl-heavy spit, but it didn’t bend at all even when it was bearing the whole weight of a food-packed young woman. They all busied themselves with finishing the job. A short pointed crosspiece was attached to the base of the spit and Hope’s rather shapely ankles were skewered onto them, the steel passing between the bone and the Achilles tendon which would bear her weight. Hank banged a nail into Hope’s knees to keep them locked straight in case the poor girl began to sag during her roasting. Another crosspiece was put through the piggie’s neck, ensuring her carcass would turn correctly over the fire.
At last it was time to baste the bitch. Everyone helped brushing on a heavy coating of richly spiced Hickory barbecue sauce. The sauce was thick and heavy and clung to the skin like it was made for human females. An extra thick coating along with some whiskey for extra flavoring went over Hope’s boobs. Both Bert and Hank made damn sure those sweet-looking melons got a good soaking, until their wives got annoyed and ordered them to get their hands off the tit-meat.
Another heavy coat went on the piggie’s feet, which were in danger of getting too crispy. The feet looked cute as buttons, the red-painted nails on the curled-up toes looking like tiny flowers against the pale skin. It seemed a shame to let them get dried out and crispy and ending up looking like overdone pigs-feet. Hank settled it by taking a chopping axe and whacking them off right above the ankle. He then wrapped them in still more foil along with some apples and a couple more can-fulls of beer. They would later put the wrapped lady feet in the coals, letting them bake to soft perfection.
The biggest work was getting enough firewood. They had never cooked a woman before, so there was plenty of discussion on how much to get. Bert figured that Hope would need about five hours to finish, and that meant a lot of wood. They dug a shallow pit, filled it and let the fire die down a pit before setting their chick over it. Within minutes, Hope’s sauce began to bubble, and she was soon cooking away like a good girl should. The cannibals sat down for a well-deserved rest to watch her sizzle, stretching out on lawn chairs and sipping beer and watching some TV and chatting away the long afternoon as their very first long-pig turned over her fire.
===========================
Dinner was marvelous. Hope was done by sunset, having turned a magnificent golden brown. The whole clearing was filled with the heady scents of the deep forest and roasted woman. The four neophyte cannibals carefully lifted her off the fire and set her down on a wooden table. She was lying on her back, the sides of her tummy bulging from the gravy-soaked load of stuffing. Her tits looked odd .They were a bit smaller than before since a bit of the lard inside had seeped out through the skin and formed a buttery film over her chest. The boobs were still nicely sized, but flopped over to the side with wet plops since the fatty layers inside were soft from the intense heat and flowed like heavy pudding. Her nipples had grown rigid as they cooked, and were now chewy pointed mounds, the tips of the teats just the slightest bit crispy.
Sue and Jane cut open the belly, letting loose a roiling cloud of steam as they began to scoop the stuffing out. Hope was a juicy girl, and made a lot of gravy which had soaked and flavored her fixings. They set the stuffings on a platter, along with her well-done liver and onions and her baked feet. Jane finished by setting Hope’s head on top of the pile of her stuffings, like a queen on her throne. Both women could set a mean table, and this one was no exception.
Since it was Bert’s arrow that killed her, he had the honor to carve the turkey. He gave an ‘aw shucks’ grin and rolled Hope over on her belly, exposing her round browned ass. The cheeks glistened like polished teak, a set of magnificent butterballs. Even the women’s eyes grew round as they checked out the beautiful butt hams.
“Now that’s a hot piece of ass’ Hank said in awe.
“You can say that again’ his wife agreed, ‘This eating people things is looking better every minute. I hope she tastes as good as she looks.’
“One way to find out’ Bert chuckled and carved his first slice of ass. The meat peeled back off the blade like it was still alive. Bert had seen a lot of meat in his day, but nothing as good as this. The butt was so juicy it dripped when sliced. It was a pleasure to carve such meat, and Bert was saddened when he finally hit the edge of her hipbone. He piled a platter high with rump filets, till Hope’s hipbones were bare.
Everyone felt oddly solemn as they prepared to take their first bite of human flesh. Despite all they had done, actually eating a woman was a big step, one that would separate them from normal folks forever. The poked their pieces of asses with their forks, unwilling to be the first one to take a bite.
“Ah the hell with this,’ Bert declared, ‘meat is meat, even if it came from a pretty lady. Dig I!’ With that, he stuck a huge fork-full of butt meat in his mouth .
Human meat is different. Any doubt of that disappeared the instant they tasted Hope. Nothing could really describe it. It was like very, very fine pork, maybe…but much, much more. It would be like trying to describe an orgasm, words giving the merest hint of the experience. Human flesh was a dream come true, deeply sexual and utterly, utterly marvelous. Once tasted, there could be no going back to mere animal meat.
A long hour later, they sat back, gorged till they could not take another bite. Bert and Hank let their belts out another notch, while their wives just sat back with dreamy looks of pure bliss on their faces like they had just had the best sex in their lives. Lots of Hope was left, enough for days and days of heavenly repasts.
Wearily, the satiated cannibals began to gather the leftovers. They handled Hope’s body with the reverence believers give communion wafers, full of awe and appreciation for their blessings. Knives pared flesh from bone gently, not wanting to mar the perfection of muscle and joint. Much of her went into tupperware, a sad resting place for such holy flesh. By the end, Hope’s naked bones were left, an ivory pile, ready to be baked dry in the fire’s embers, then pounded into unrecognizable dust. Sadly, her head was also thrown on the fire, her sad still gaze peering up at them from the red-white bed. There was an unpleasent waft of burning hair and sizzling eyeballs. They packed up the pick-up trucks as her brains boiled inside her head, greasy fluid seeping from her charred ears. Hope faded away one crisp at a time, till a burnt skull leered back at the feasters. A few hammer blows and her remains would be indistinguishable from any other animal remains.
“I sure hope our little gal is happy wherever she is’ Sue snickered. After all, she did save that pretty animal from an awful fate. Glad we could make her happy.”
“Yep, there’ll be more’ Bert promised. ‘After her, I just can’t stomach the thought of eating plain old deer meat anymore. Them greenies sure got good taste.”
“You got that right. Girl was no good, but she sure did taste good’ Hank chuckled as he hopped in the truck. They all grinned, happy as foxes leaving the chicken coop.