Pal Pot

by Menagerie

Tina glared at Gina. Gina glared back.

"This is all your fault!" snapped Tina.

"Is not!" Gina retorted.

"Is too!" said the other girl.

The two naked girls were sitting, face to face, in a huge, iron pot, up to their breasts in water. Logs were starting to blaze under the pot; the water was slowly warming. Both women had their hands and feet tied; they struggled, the water splashing, as they hurled accusations at each other.

"You got us into this, Gina," said Tina, straining as she tried to bring her hands, tied behind her back, around her body.

Tina was trying to work her legs free. "No, I didn't. If you hadn't come up with that stupid vacation idea..."

The two young executives were in the middle of a so-so marketing year; they decided to go on a fancy vacation anyway, and settled on Rio. Gina, the svelte, gorgeous, big-bosomed brunette, insisted to the statuesque Tina that a trip to Rio in the middle of the winter was doable.

"On our budget?" cried the exasperated Tina.

"I know this guy," Gina insisted. "He says he can work us a real deal, if we'll go along with some stops along the way..."

The guy, needless to say, wasn't on the up and up. One of the stops was in the middle of a Brazilian rain forest. "Just wait here for me," he said, shooing the women out of his plane in the middle of nowhere. "I'll go to the town to the east to refuel, and be right back."

"Why can't we come along?" demanded Tina. He smirked. "Business is business; I have to be alone. Don't worry; it'll only take a minute."

The minute stretched into an hour, then half a day. The girls, dressed in colorful tourist outfits, couldn't plunge into the jungle to look for him.

"He said east," Gina said finally. "Let's go that way."

Tina was doubtful. "I think we should wait. We don't know anything about this place."

"We're Americans," Gina stressed. "What could happen?"

It was getting dark, and the two businesswomen's arguments were getting louder.

"I told you we should have stayed," lectured Tina. "He probably went right back for us--"

"He wasn't coming back," retorted Gina, picking her way through vines and underbrush. "I'll bet something happened to him--"

"Some deal!" Tina shrilled, waving away insects buzzing around her face. "I should never have listened--"

"Well, you wanted to come,too--"

"Well, we couldn't have afforded--"

"Well, you should have--"

Gina suddenly shrieked. As Tina watched, a tree branch snapped up, and Gina suddenly found herself dangling by one slim ankle, twelve feet above the ground.

"Tina! You stepped in a trap!"

"Oh, really?" wailed the brunette, swaying as she tried to reach out for nearby branches. "Get me down from here!"

"I can't climb up there!" said the tall girl. "I'll have to go get--" Tina suddenly yelped; the ground underneath her had given way, and she found herself twelve feet below the ground, in a pit.

"Tina!" Gina screeched. "Where are you!"

"Down here," she yelled. "I'm in a trap, too. There must be local hunters around. Let's call for help."

The two of them burst into screaming. "Please! Help us! Rescue us!" They kept up the cacophony for a good half-hour; then, as Tina's voice was giving out, a curious face peered down on her from the lip of the pit.

"Oh, thank God!" she rasped. "Gina! Somebody's here!"

"I know," Gina called down. "There's lots of 'em."

There were, in fact, four natives brandishing spears and bows, dressed in loincloths and camouflage paint. One of them lowered a rope to Tina; the other climbed the tree and cut Gina down.

"Ooft," she grunted as she crashed to the soft jungle floor; the natives let out belly laughs, and continued to observe the two shapely white women closely.

"You think they can tell us where we can rent a car or something?" wondered Gina.

"Of course," said Tina. "We're Americans. Now," she said, turning to the tribesmen, "take us to your village."

The four consulted in an Indian tongue; the biggest of them looked up sternly and gestured toward a dimly lit path in the darkness. The girls looked at each other, shrugged, and headed down the path.

When they arrived, the village exploded into activity. Children ran up to them excitedly; the women sized them up. Gina and Tina were bewildered by all the interest. Grinning, the hunters called out; a large man in colorful garb emerged from a hut, and did a double take when he saw the women.

"This must be the chief," said Tina, and raced up to him. "We're Americans, chief," she said, breathlessly. "Can you get us a phone, or a car, or something? We're lost!"

At first, the chief didn't respond. Tina walked up next to her. "Gina...I don't think he understands English. And I don't think he has a phone, either."

The village was deathly still, for just a moment. Then, the chief shouted out an order, and clapped his hands. Within seconds, Gina and Tina found themselves surrounded by warriors armed with spears, pointed right at their throats.

They swallowed. "Tina!" Gina squeaked. "What are we gonna do?" Tina didn't answer; her dark, pretty eyes darted fearfully from one stone-faced tribesman to the next.

The chief gave another command, and the girls suddenly found themselves being stripped naked. The tribe's women pulled off their shoes and socks, their pants, their blouses; when they started to struggle, the spears moved ever closer. Helplessly, they watched as their undergarments came off. Tina's huge breasts bounced free; the men fingered them in fascination as she looked frantically around, her eyes wide in terror. Other tribesmen ran their hands along Gina's long, lanky legs and buttocks; one turned to the other and uttered what sounded like a joke, and as a horrified Gina watched, the other man laughed crudely and rubbed his stomach.

With another order from the head man, the womens' wrists were tied behind their backs. Then, as a great shout came up from the tribe, the nude young women were marched at spearpoint toward a clearing behind the huts.

Gina and Tina were each tethered by their necks to stakes in the ground; the three foot ropes didn't allow them to stand fully upright, so they sat on the ground, their bare butts cooled by the dewy grasses of the Amazon basin. All of the tribal people left save one guard, who watched them balefully. Tears were in Gina's eyes. "Tina...he's gonna rape us," she whispered.

"Why are you whispering?" Tina demanded. "They don't speak English."

The guard continued to glare. "He doesn't act like he's gonna rape us. He's just watching us." She folded her long legs under her as comfortably as she could. "Maybe they're just gonna hold us for ransom; the company will get us out of it."

"And how do they know what our company is?" Gina demanded.

"They've got our clothes, stupid, with our ID's. Just relax; we'll figure a way out."

Gina couldn't relax. "Hey, mister!" she called to the guard, flipping her long, dark hair as breezily as she could, considering she was nude and fettered by the wrists and neck. "I've gotta go to the bathroom! Could you take me to the john?"

He just stared, a hard look on his face. Tina said, "Gina, if you gotta go, you gotta go." Gina struggled to her feet; she balanced on her tiptoes and squatted. "Tina...don't look."

Two days passed. The guards changed; the girls weren't moved. They didn't get any food or water, and were parched in the hot equatorial sun. "Why won't they give us anything to drink?" said Tina, weakly; the girls were lying on their backs, their breasts and bellies browning in the mid-day heat.

Abruptly, the original hunters arrived along with four women, all of them carrying bowls of herbs and vegetables. "This is it, Tina!" gasped Gina. "They're finally gonna feed us!" The naked girls struggled to a sitting position.

Two of the hunters grabbed Gina; one picked the squealing brunette up while the other grabbed her slender, firm legs. She frantically kicked her bare feet, but the warrior crossed her ankles and tied them securely to her lower calves with a strand of hemp, dropping her on the ground sitting in a lotus position.

"Hey!" cried Tina as she was subjected to the same binding. Then, the men cut their neck tethers and carried them, struggling and crying, over their shoulders, with the women following obediently behind. When the men reached their destination, the girls were dumped unceremoniously to the ground. Tina and Gina rolled over, and gasped in horror. They were back in the main part of the village; a large pot was standing there, half filled with water, smoldering fagots underneath.

"Tina," Gina breathed, "they're gonna stick us in there!" They twisted in their ropes, sobbing; the tribeswomen pulled out a machete and two large plantains. Diligently, one of them began dry-shaving the fur from Tina's snatch. She yelped as the blade nicked her in a half-dozen spots. When the native woman was satisfied, she turned her attention to Gina, who was staring at her and shivering on her back, her fur pie standing out invitingly between her bound legs.

Meanwhile, another native took one of the plantains, coated it in cocoa butter, and rammed it up Tina's vagina in a strong, practiced move. Tina gasped in pain as the reddish, banana-shaped fruit entered her. Satisfied, the woman flipped Tina over and examined her smooth, shapely buttocks. She then took from her basket a long, narrow yam, and plunged it into Tina's anus.

Tina's eyes grew like saucers; her mouth formed an O from the double violations. A third native took a cloth and scrubbed away the dirt she'd picked up from flopping around on the ground; then, another took a handful of herbs and began rubbing them into her skin. The pungent smell of garlic and basil invaded her nostrils, and Tina realized--they were seasoning her! She heard Gina's agonized howls, and knew she was getting the same treatment.

After she'd been "flavored" from head to toes, Tina felt strong hands grip her and lift her straight up. She came down in the pot; moments later, so did Gina.

The natives departed; the two girls, alone, naked and bound, looked at each other for a moment. Then came the argument.

"If you hadn't walked away--"

"If you hadn't asked for a phone--"

"Who knew about this?"

"Well, you should have planned better--"

"This thing in my butt hurts!"

"What about the thing up my--?"

The water was getting warmer. Sweat ran down their faces; it dripped down their chests and hung in droplets from their nipples. They became vaguely aware of the aroma of the spices. The pot wasn't quite big enough for two full-grown, well-developed women; Gina's shins were resting on the taller girl's thighs, and the fruit shoved up her vagina brushed Tina's belly.

"Maybe I can untie your legs," said Tina, ducking her head under the water; she came up a couple of seconds later, sputtering. In the distance, the frightened girls heard some of the villagers laughing; they'd been watching the whole thing.

"I'll try to turn around," said Gina, "and you can get my hands with your teeth." She started to squirm, her plump bottom rubbing against Tina's ample thighs. She worked her way to a quarter turn...then lost her balance and fell over into the broth. "Ow!" she shouted, banging her head on the side of the iron pot. More laughter.

A tribesman showed up, holding a sack. "Listen!" cried Gina, as the coughing, gasping Tina sat back upright, "You've got to let us go! We'll do whatever you want!"

He looked back and forth at the sweltering, desperate women...then shrugged and poured his sack of onions and potatoes into the steaming water. He started to walk away but paused, and ran a rough finger along the cringing Gina's bare skin from her shoulder to the tip of her firm, tender breast. Popping the finger in his mouth and sucking to enjoy her flavor, he nodded, smacked his lips and departed, chuckling.

"This isn't working, Gina!" Tina cried out. "You've got to find a way to get us out of this!"

"I do?" shouted Gina. "You got us into it!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!" The water was starting to boil. A slice of onion hung from Tina's breast; Gina's sported a cluster of herbs.

"If you hadn't--"

"Well, I didn't--"

A glum looking tribeswoman stood next to the pot. The two helpless, nude girls looked up. "Well, will you help us?" Tina demanded to know. She responded by holding up two large, underripe mangoes, and stuffed one in Tina's mouth, and the other in Gina's. Then she walked away.

The girls whined through the fruits. "Umph, umph," mumbled Tina, choking on the huge fruit. Gina just looked at her, tears dripping from her eyes and splashing on the mango. Two days earlier, they had been savvy, big city business women; now, they were nude, hogtied, garnished with vegetables and boiling in a pot for an Amazon tribe's dinner! Their struggles against their bonds became feverish; steam rose from the churning soup as Tina and Gina fought the ropes. Their skin was reddening in the roiling stew; their flesh screamed in pain...

Dusk. Oil lanterns were burning throughout the village. In the center of the clearing, where the pot had been, many tables were standing, set with pottery and knives. The natives came to their places excitedly buzzing. They had not had a tribal feast in a long time. Before them were tureens of broth--the liquor of the pot, flavored with the two girls' flesh. They slurped it down eagerly. Vegetables from the pot were in huge bowls. A platter held two plantains and two yams; the tribesman nudged each other, giggling--they knew where the starchy produce had been.

At the far ends of the tables sat the chief and the lead hunter. The chief stood; he banged a long, sharp knife on his plate. Four tribesmen arrived, carrying a large platter.

On the platter was Tina. She had been attractively arranged, her long, luscious legs curled under her, the mango still filling her mouth. Her skin was red, the flesh underneath grown plump in the boiling water. Her belly had been split open, the entrails removed. She was surrounded by more of the vegetables cooked with her and Gina in the pot. The chief removed a large machete from his belt and began to carve the woman's carcass. He started with her back; Tina's loins, pale, pink and flavorful, were cut into chops and presented to the tribe's elders. With a lengthwise slit, the well-done meat of her thighs slid right off the bones and plopped invitingly onto a platter, to be carved into ham steaks. Some expert cuts, and boneless ribs were presented to the appreciative villagers. Drumsticks, the feet still attached, were claimed by two of the chief's nephews; gripping the woman's long, lean lower legs by her plump ankles, the young men sank their teeth into the fleshy calves.

At the other end of the table, Gina was being similarly butchered. Her large breasts, a special delicacy, were reserved for the hunting party. A cut around her waist, and another across her crotch, and the meat came off as a saddle, buttocks on one side, crotch on the other. As the tribe devoured the two girls' meat with great gusto, the chief motioned to the lead hunter, who ambled to the other side of the tables. The chief pointed to a slab of Tina's tender flesh, cut a slice, and offered it to the huntsman, who gratefully accepted it.

The chief then said, in perfect English, "I would say Tina's meat is tastier than Gina's."

The hunter's dark eyes twinkled. "Is not!" "Is too!" responded the chief, and the two roared with laughter...and as the rest of the tribe joined them.

Inside one of the huts, a telephone began to ring.