by Lee
Lisa was unable to comprehend everything that had happened to her since last night. She sat in the damp sand, still wearing her wet and salty sundress, and pondered all that had happened in the last twelve hours. Just yesterday she had lying on the deck of her father’s yacht, drinking up margaritas and soaking up sun. She had never felt safer or more comfortable. It had been a perfect day - a day of salt sea air and balmy ocean breezes.
How could the storm have come up so fast? She remembered the heavy black clouds, the flashes of lightening and the feelings of helplessness and terror as the boat was tossed violently about. Then the sudden starboard list that sent her crashing backwards as the battered vessel began to take on water. It was all Julio and Martinez could do to shove her into the lifeboat with her mother before the yacht went completely under. She felt sick as she thought of the boat sinking with the two crewmen apparently still on board.
Soon afterward the storm had subsided and she and her mother had drifted all night under calm and starry skies. Shortly after sunrise the lifeboat had beached on the island on which they were now marooned. Lisa had no idea what island it might be. They had passed countless uninhabited islands on their many south seas cruises, and this one looked no different than any other. She only hoped that it contained enough food and fresh water to sustain them until a rescue party arrived.
Lisa swept her wet and tangled hair off her face and looked at her mother, who was sitting in the sand with her arms drawn around her knees. Her mother’s hair and sundress were also soaked and she was staring at the ocean with the same stunned expression Lisa knew that she, herself, must be wearing. Her mother was a tall woman - about 5’9' - and possessed such striking features that her dishevelled condition only served to accentuate her natural beauty. Her smooth, tanned skin, deep blue eyes, strong white teeth and softly rounded limbs seemed to belong to a woman a decade younger than her 45 years. Only the flecks of grey that salted her light brown hair revealed the possibility of middle age.
Lisa resemhemorrhage her father’s side of the family. She was as tall as her mother, but stockier, with full, shapely limbs and long, straight hair of such dark a brown that it at first glance appeared to be black. Her breasts were larger than her mother’s and as firm as her solid thighs and buttocks. She had always regretted the fact the she had not inherited her mother’s face - she was 'pretty' rather than 'gorgeous' - but preferred her own athletic body to her mother’s voluptuous one.
The wave that washed over Lisa’s outstretched feet served to wake her from her trance. With it she was reminded that the tide was coming in, that time had not stopped and would not stop just because she and her mother had suffered a traumatic experience. If they intended to survive, they had better get on with the business of survival. Lisa rose, stretched, and called to her mother, who jumped at the sound of her daughter’s voice. 'Come on Mom, let’s see if there is any food or fresh water to be had on this island.'
Her mother nodded and rose silently. Together, the two women walked toward a line of trees just twenty yards from the ocean which represented the entrance to a rainforest.
Making their way through the underbrush was difficult until they stumhemorrhage on what was apparently a system of paths that wound their way through the forest. Evidently, this island was home to at least one species of large animal. At first they were relieved to have soft, well trodden earth to walk in, for both women were barefoot and wearing only the tattered remains of last nights sundresses. They began to wonder just what sort of creature might be stalking the island. Lisa’s mother thought it might be deer or wild pigs, and was continually on the look out for a suitable tree for them to climb if they were confronted by a wild boar. Lisa was afraid it was something much worse, but kept her feelings to herself to avoid needlessly frightening her mother.
The previous semester at college, her anthropology professor had related accounts of several primitive tribes who had only recently been discovered living on Pacific islands which were previously considered to be uninhabited. Most of the tribes had consisted of gentle, son-like individuals, but at least two that she could remember - one in Borneo and the other in the Philippines - had been aggressive and violent. The one in the Philippines had, in fact, been cannibalistic. Lisa shuddered as she imagined her and her mother bubbling in a stewpot, or being slowly turned over an open fire, each with a big, red apple in her mouth.
She shook her head violently to clear the image from her mind. She would have to be more positive. Even if there were natives on this island, it would be highly unlikely that they would cook and eat the first white women they had probably ever seen. It was far more likely for primitives that had long been isolated to react to strangers with a sort of timid curiosity. Maybe they would even treat them as goddesses. Lisa smiled as she imagined herself being pampered by a harem of muscular young Polynesian men. The image helped to calm her fears.
Suddenly Lisa’s mother, who was leading the way, stopped and pointed at something down the path from them.
'Water!', she cried, and the two women hurried down the trail to a small, clear, volcanic pool which was fed by a trickle from the rocks above. They were so excited that they splashed right into the cool liquid, drenching again the sundresses that had only just dried from their night in the lifeboat. For a moment they forgot themselves, and laughed and splashed and played like sonren. They had found water! They would survive! Neither one noticed the group of tall, brown-skinned women approaching.
Lisa was the first to notice them, and her wild-eyed expression immediately alerted her mother. Both women stood in water which was waist deep and looked into the solemn brown faces of the twenty or so native women who seemed equally perplexed as to what should be done next.
'Okay,' Lisa began slowly, 'They have probably never seen a white person before. Let’s just assure them that we mean them no harm and everything will be alright.'
'Okay,' her mother whispered. Lisa reached for her mother’s hand and squeezed it tightly. Together they moved toward the shore, sloshing slowly through the waist-deep water hand in hand. They natives stood motionless, staring at the white women who were so cautiously approaching them.
'Hello,' Lisa called in the cheeriest voice she could muster. She waved her free hand in what she hoped would be interpreted as a friendly gesture. Her mother did the same. The native women did not wave back, not did their passive faces reveal any expression of friendliness. Lisa and her mother were both beginning to tremble.
Suddenly an old native woman with long white hair said something in a language that neither Lisa or her mother could understand. At that moment the natives began moving toward them. Some of the women stopped and stood in front of Lisa and her mother while others moved around behind them.
The two white women stood motionless, unsure how to respond. They didn’t like the idea of being surrounded, but the natives had not as yet done anything clearly hostile. Perhaps they were just curious. Lisa smiled and extended her hand to the woman standing directly in front of her. The woman made no move to take it and merely stared at Lisa without expression. Lisa dropped her hand nervously to her side and and frantically tried to think of something she could do to make contact with these women.
Lisa searched the solemn brown faces in front of her for some cue as to what they were thinking, and as she did so, she felt her hope beginning to fade. There was no light of compassion or interest in any of them. These women were cold, dispassionate and unfeeling. It suddenly dawned on her that these women didn’t even consider she and her mother to be human beings. It was apparent from the phlegmatic way that they looked at them that they considered the white women to be less than themselves: to be animals.
Lisa was becoming certain that she and her mother were in serious trouble, but she couldn’t think of a single thing that she could do about it. There was no way they could escape. The natives and them surrounded and were far too numerous to fight. There was nothing to do but to wait and see what would happen next. They didn’t have to wait long.
The white haired woman shouted something else and the women rushed forward, grabbing the two white women and quickly subduing them. Dozens of hands gripped them tightly from front and from back. All they could do was whimper while their sundresses were ripped from their bodies and their hands pulled roughly behind their backs. Lisa could hear her sundress being torn into strips, then feel the strips being wound tightly around her wrists.
Her mother had been pulled away from her and Lisa couldn’t see what the natives were doing to her, but apparently she was being similarly bound as well. Lisa could hear her mother shouting, 'Not so tight, not so tight!' in between sobs of 'Oh God, what are they doing to us?'
Lisa and her mother were herded through the forest until they came to a clearing in which was a circle of large grass huts. In the center of the circle was a smokey cooking fire around which several naked, brown sonren played. There were a few old men lying in hammocks strung between palm trees at the edge of the clearing. In front of one of the huts a group of women knelt grinding some sort of root between two stones.
One of Lisa and her mother’s captors called out and the sonren stopped what they were doing and ran excitedly toward the two white women. One of the girls came right up to Lisa and began touching and feeling her thighs and legs. The girl laughed and chattered excitedly as she pinched Lisa’s flesh, and some of the other sonren and women laughed as well.
Lisa told herself that the girl was probably just curious about the strange whiteness of her skin, but she couldn’t help feeling a little like a heifer at a livestock auction. Then she heard her mother let out a little yelp and turned to see one of the young boys squeezing her fleshy buttocks. The boy fondled each buttock deliberately, then licked his lips in an exaggerated manner which made the natives roar with laughter.
To Lisa, the meaning of the gesture was clear and she suddenly began to feel very sick. Surely this was a joke. Surely these people couldn’t really mean to eat them! She shivered uncontrollably as she and her mother were led into a darkened hut, and pushed roughly to the floor and hogtied by four native women. The women bound them tightly, then ran their rough, brown hands over the women’s soft, pink bodies. The native women examined them from head to toe, giggling and chattering all the while. Then they withdrew, leaving Lisa and her mother sobbing helplessly on the floor.
Lisa and her mother had laid on the bare dirt floor for hours. Lisa had stopped crying shortly after the natives had left, and her mother had calmed down a few minutes later. They had been quiet since then. The dark silence of the hut had offered some refuge from their terror and neither woman wanted it broken. Lisa’s mother had spoken only once, when she had timorously asked, 'do you think they’re… cannibals?'
'Yes,' Lisa had replied flatly, hoping her mother would say nothing more.
Finally, the grass door was pushed open and several native women entered the hut. One of them held a sharp bamboo knife, and she used it to cut through the straps of what had been Lisa’s dress, which was binding the white women’s ankles. The natives allowed a few moments for the circulation to return to their captive’s legs, then lifted Lisa and her mother to their feet with their hands still bound behind them. Both women were wobbly from being hogtied for so long, but were escorted out the door with a native holding tightly onto each arm.
Outside the hut, Lisa and her mother were surrounded once more by natives. This time there were men as well as women around them. Evidently the men had been out hunting or fishing during the day. They had returned to the village in the late afternoon, and the women had brought Lisa and her mother out for them to inspect. The men seemed to be impressed, nodding their heads in apparent approval as they stared at the white women’s naked bodies.
Suddenly the crowd parted, and an enormously tall, muscular and fierce-looking man came striding toward the captives. His appearance was so terrifying that Lisa’s heart nearly stopped. She got an even bigger shock when she saw who was trailing along behind him.
It was a woman - A white woman! She was dressed just like the natives, but she was definitely white… or was she? Lisa wondered if she was hallucinating. She stared at the woman’s long, blonde hair; half expecting it to turn black before her eyes. Surely no white woman could be living among these savages.
The man stopped before Lisa and began pinching her upper arms and the soft flesh covering her ribs. Lisa trembles uncontrollably, but was afraid to resist. The blonde woman stood next to the man and looked Lisa up and down while he felt her breasts and buttocks and moved his hands down to her thighs. Lisa looked into her face, hoping for a glance of recognition, and after a moment the woman raised her eyes and met Lisa’s gaze.
'Well, hello,' the blonde woman said, flashing her a devious smile.
Lisa’s mouth fell open 'Who… who are you?' she stammered.
'I’m Linda,' the woman replied. 'Linda Thompson. Not that last names mean much here.'
The fierce man, who was now squeezing the back of Lisa’s calves, said something in his native tongue.
The blonde woman laughed sadistically. 'Ngini says you’ll make a fine roast - once you’ve been properly fattened.'
Lisa’s eyes widened and she heard her mother begin to sob.
'So it’s true,' Lisa choked. 'They’re going to… to…'
'Eat you,' Linda finished the sentence for her. 'Fatten you, slaughter you, roast you and eat you.' She flashed her evil smile at Lisa, and then turned to look at her mother.
'We seldom get meat of such high quality,' Linda continued, pinching Lisa’s mother’s thigh. 'We’ll enjoy both thoroughly, I’m sure.'
Ngini pushed Lisa to her knees, ran his hands roughly over the soles of her feet and moved on to inspect her mother. He began by pinching the older woman’s fleshy upper arms, then he poked her breasts hard with his index finger causing her to squeal in pain. Some of the natives laughed.
Lisa looked at Linda in disbelief. 'But… you’re white,' she began. 'You speak English. How could you?'
Linda smiled down at Lisa, who was still kneeling where Ngini had pushed her. 'Well, let’s just say that I have adapted to island life remarkably well. I’ve been here for nine years, you know. My husband crash-landed his Cessna in the jungle less than a mile from this very spot. There were nine of us on board: six women and three men. The natives must have thought we were a smorgasborg from heaven. They put the plumpest woman on the spit the very night they captured us.'
Ngini, who was now feeling Lisa’s mother’s thighs and buttocks, said something and Linda paused to interpret.
'Ngini says that you have the better breasts, but that your mother’s legs and bottom are far more succulent. I think that’s pretty obvious, don’t you?'
Lisa said nothing and Linda continued her story.
'Fortunately, Ngini developed an immediate attraction for me and I was allowed to escape the cooking pot provided I would consent to be his wife.'
'But, what about your husband?' Lisa interrupted.
'They fattened him and ate him like a hog. Actually, he was quite delicious. Not as tender and delicately flavored as a woman, you understand, but better than any pork I’ve ever tasted.'
'You…' Lisa choked, '… you… ate… your own…?'
'I’m a survivor,' Linda shrugged. 'I became Ngini’s wife and adapted to his culture. He’s a cannibal, so I became a cannibal. It was hard at first, but I came to understand that my revulsion was just cultural conditioning. There is nothing inherently repulsive about cannibalism. We all feed on plants and animals which were only recently alive. Does it really matter whether the meat we eat comes from a cow or from a plump young woman?'
'Of course it matters,' Lisa screamed. 'Are you crazy?'
'Maybe so, my little heifer,' Lisa smiled and pinched Lisa’s breast, 'but I’ll still be alive when your tender body is roasting on a spit.'
Nigini pushed Lisa’s mother to her knees and rubbed her soles and toes with his large, brown fingers. Then he straightened, turned, and announced something to the crowd. The natives cheered wildly, then began chanting while they danced around the captives.
Linda smiled cruelly, and her eyes darted from Lisa to her mother and back.
'Ngini says the old woman is fat enough to bake right now,' she announced gleefully. 'He says we will feast tomorrow.'
After Linda announced Ngini’s plan for the following day’s feast, several native women had dragged Lisa behind one of the huts to where a bamboo cage was waiting. The natives shoved Lisa headfirst into the cage, then held her down while they cut the strips of cloth that were still binding her wrists. They exited quickly, leaving Lisa to rub her sore wrists alone.
She didn’t know where her mother was, and she didn’t dare to think what might be happening to her now. She had seen an old sow butchered once, and the thought that her mother might be undergoing the same procedure was too horrible to imagine.
The sow had first been clubbed into semi-consciousness. Then she had been hoisted by a rope which had been looped around her back feet - then thrown over a beam - so that she hung upside down. Next her jugular was punctured and she was allowed to bleed for a few minutes. After the first flow of blood had slowed to a steady drip, she had been slit down the belly and her body cavity cleaned out. Finally, she was dropped into a cauldron of boiling water so that her bristles could be easily removed. Everyone had enjoyed fresh pork that night. They had all talked about how delicious it was and how Lisa ought to try it, but she just couldn’t. Every time she looked at that platter of steaming white meat, she could see that old sow hanging upside down.
A vision of her mother hanging by her heels and being butchered by savages entered her mind, but she quickly forced it out. She must not think of such things.
Just before nightfall, Lisa heard footsteps and looked up to find Linda and two young native women approaching her cage. Linda was carrying a large wooden bowl, which turned out to be full of cashews and other tropical nuts as well as dates and coconut meat. One of the native women was carrying a torch.
'Here,' Linda said, pushing the bowl through a slot in the cage evidently installed for that purpose. 'Eat this, all of it. This is your supper.'
Lisa refused to even look at her. 'You’re crazy,' she replied venomously.
Linda reached between the bamboo slats, grabbed a handful of Lisa’s hair and jerked, smacking Lisa’s head against the side of the cage and holding it there. Lisa screamed and kicked her feet, but Linda maintained her grip.
'Now Lisa,' Linda began, 'Luija and Jumani here were nice enough to crack all these nuts for you. That’s quite a job, you know, because there’s not a nutcracking machine to be found on this island. They did it just for you, dear Lisa, because they don’t want your hands and arms to become overdeveloped from cracking your own nuts. Overdeveloped muscles make poor eating - all stringy and tough - and we can’t have that. Now be a good girl and eat your supper so that you may begin to fatten up.'
'No!' Lisa screamed, attempted to free herself from Linda’s grip.
Linda braced and pulled Lisa’s head against the side of the cage as hard as she could. Lisa screamed and kicked her legs furiously at first, then gave in and began sobbing like a baby. Linda relaxed her grip a bit and waited silently for Lisa to regain her composure. When Lisa began to quiet down, Linda spoke again.
'For the next few weeks I want you to be very cooperative, Lisa,' she began. 'If you are not, I can make life very uncomfortable for you. Do you understand?'
Lisa nodded her head with as large a range of movement as Linda’s grip on her hair would allow.
'That’s good, Lisa,' Linda said. Releasing Lisa’s head and standing up. 'I’ll be back in two hours and I’ll expect your bowl to be clean. If it isn’t, we’ll see what Jumani and Luija can do to convince you to cooperate.'
Linda and the natives walked away. Lisa lay still for a few moments. Then she reached into the bowl, pulled out a piece of coconut, and put it into her mouth. When Linda returned to the cage later that evening, the bowl was empty and Lisa was sleeping off her heavy meal.
While Lisa slept, her mother was prepared for the following day’s feast. She had spent the afternoon tied to a stake in the center of the village, and every part of her body had been poked, pinched and squeezed by every man, woman and son in the village. She was glad she couldn’t understand their language. She knew they were discussing which parts of her would be the most delicious and she was glad to be spared the details. When the natives had finally stopped handling her, she looked up to see some of the women sharpening their bamboo knives. She tremhemorrhage as she considered what was to happen next. She knew she was going to be slaughtered.
The native women laughed and talked casually as they cut the ropes which bound her to the stake, then led her through the forest to a tree which had been selected for it’s sturdy, low-hanging branches. The last thing she was aware of was a crushing sound when one of the women bashed her skull solidly with a wooden club.
Lisa was not yet fully awake when she was given her breakfast: a bowl of nuts and fruit which was very similar to the dinner she had the night before. She was not the least bit hungry. She still felt bloated from her previous meal, but was too afraid of Linda to refuse to eat. She scooped out a handful of cashews and stuffed them into her mouth. At this rate, she knew that she would soon be fat enough to feed the whole village. As she shuddered with the thought, she became aware of the smell of meat cooking.
Lisa never allowed the thought to materialize in her mind. She knew intuitively what the meat was. She also knew that if she visualized or put into words the reality of what the meat was, she would be overwhelmed. She would become a vegetable or a blithering idiot. Even worse, she would become a lunatic like Linda.
There was only one thing she could do, and that was to distract herself. She reached into her feeding bowl and pulled out a handful of the contents. Slowly, deliberately, and with great concentration, she lifted a single macadamia nut to her lips. She chewed it thoroughly, savoring the taste and texture. Then she swallowed purposefully and reached for another.
It took her four hours to get to the bottom of the bowl. When she finished, she lifted the heavy wooden container and banged it fiercely on the slats of her prison.
'Hey!' she shouted to anyone who would hear, 'What does a girl have to do to get a little food around here!'
All afternoon the village was filled with the heavenly aroma that Lisa had first noticed that morning. Linda had been overseeing the preparation of the feast since daybreak, when she had led a group of women to the tree that Lisa’s mother’s eviscerated body had spent the night hanging from.
Through the twilight the natives had carried the old woman to a long stone table near the firepit. They had laid her on the table and spiced her with pepper; then brushed her with coconut oil from head to toe. When they were done, they laid her on the banana leaves with which they had covered the hot coals of the firepit. Then they had laid another layer of leaves on top of her and covered her with dirt.
By mid-afternoon the whole village had assemhemorrhage around the firepit. The tantalizing aroma was making them ravenous. They sat in clusters and talked for hours while they waited impatiently for the feast. It was nearly nightfall before Linda ordered Lisa’s mother removed from the firepit. She wanted to give the old woman time to cook until she was nice and tender.
Several native women scraped the dirt from the top of the firepit, then lifted the steaming carcass out of the pit and laid it on a plank on top of the stone table. The natives gathered around the table, jostling and craning while Linda peeled away the banana leaves to reveal the evening’s piece de resistance.
She was magnificent. There was not a dry or burnt spot anywhere on her plump body. Just lots of succulent white flesh marhemorrhage with sweet yellow fat, so tender it was falling off her bones. Linda sliced a small piece of flesh from the upper thigh, popped it into her mouth and nodded her head in approval. The natives cheered wildly. Lisa’s mother was baked to perfection, and her flesh was delectable.
Ngini pushed his way through the crowd to the table. He and Linda would have first choice of meat. He looked the meat over carefully, jabbing the thighs, breasts and legs with his wooden fork to check for tenderness. Then he began slicing off a breast with his bamboo knife, being careful to cut deeply enough to include the soft muscles underlying the mammary. Linda selected the head, removing it quickly with her own bamboo knife and taking it to a shady spot where she could enjoy the tongue, cheeks and lips.
The other natives waited for Linda and Ngini to finish, then closed in on the table to claim their share of the food. They attacked the carcass voraciously, hacking at the flesh and escaping with their portions in hand. Several men cut generous portions from the thighs and buttocks, and a woman took an entire upper arm for herself. One old man claimed the remaining breast while his wife treated herself to a hand and several ribs. A young girl sliced from the fullest part of the calf, while her elderly mother severed a foot and bit daintily into the instep.
The feast lasted well into the night. There was plenty of meat to go around, and the natives stuffed themselves greedily. Rarely had they eaten so well. Several natives commented that they thought Lisa’s mother was the best meat they had ever eaten. Certainly she had been very tender and juicy, and her flavor was quite delicate and sweet. Linda said she expected Lisa to be even better.
If Lisa had been asked how long she had been held captive, she probably would have answered in terms of months. Actually, she had spent only two weeks in the fattening pen on the cool, breezy morning when Linda came to check her progress. She had been consuming huge amounts of food and had been allowed out of her cage for only a few minutes each morning. Naturally, she had added quite a bit of flesh to her large, muscular frame.
Luija and Junani, Lisa’s native caretakers, had reported to Linda that Lisa was about ready for the spit. This was very good news. It had been two weeks since she had tasted Lisa’s mother’s delectable flesh and she was more than ready to savor the roasted body of a fat, healthy young woman. Linda’s mouth watered as she imagined how tender and juicy Lisa would certainly be. She picked up a length of rope which had been salvaged from the white women’s lifeboat and headed toward the fattening pen.
Linda awakened Lisa from a full-bellied nap by yanking her from the cage by her long, dark hair. Lisa woke kicking and screaming, but two weeks confinement in the small pen had left her too weak to put up much of a fight. Luija and Jumani stood by and watched while the smallar but stronger and more muscular blonde woman quickly dragged the big brunette out onto the ground. She then forced Lisa to kneel in front of her while she tied the young woman’s wrists together. When Lisa’s hands were bound before her, Linda grabbed a handful of hair and pulled the now sobbing woman to her feet. She then threw the other end of the rope over a low-hanging branch and motioned for the two native women to come forward. With the weight of the native women on the other side of the rope, Lisa was easily hoisted into the air.
Lisa moaned and sobbed pitifully as she spun slowly several inches above the ground. Linda quickly tied off the free end of the rope and the native women let go, allowing enough slack so that Lisa was able to touch the ground with her outstretched toes. As she dangled standing tip-toe to take as much pressure as possible off of her wrists, Linda began to inspect her body.
'Oh, Lisa!' Linda sighed, pinching and prodding her melon sized breasts, 'you’re magnificent!'
Lisa only sobbed in response while Luija and Jumani exchanged glances and nodded appreciatively. Linda moved her hands up to Lisa’s shoulders and pinched her soft, full arms.
'Mmmmm…' Linda licked her sensuous red lips. 'Meaty and tender!'
Linda’s hands glided down Lisa’s torso, pinching the ample soft flesh covering her ribs before coming to rest on Lisa’s soft, white belly. She squeezed the delicate flesh around the navel gently between her thumb and forefinger, looking Lisa in the eye as she did so.
'You’ve become so nice and fat, Lisa,' she spoke in a deep, sexy voice. 'I think I’ll eat your belly myself. It’ll be so sweet and succulent after you’ve been roasted over an open fire.'
Lisa sobbed. 'Oh please don’t eat me… please don’t.'
Linda laughed and the two native women joined her in laughter. She smiled at Lisa cruelly. 'Of course I’m going to eat you, my fat, young chicken.' She patted Lisa’s soft belly. 'The whole tribe is going to eat you. We’re going to savor every last morsel of you; from your luscious cheeks right down to your tasty toes.'
Lisa wailed and sobbed, and Linda smiled sadistically as she continued to inspect her. She moved her hands down to Lisa’s well covered rump and thighs. These she pinched and prodded gently, the slapped lightly with her palms causing the flesh to quiver noticeably. Luija and Jumani licked their thick, brown lips as they watched the tender flesh jiggle. They exchanged a knowing glance, each resolving to get as much of Lisa’s thigh and rump meat as possible.
Linda knelt in front of Lisa’s dangling knees, taking the backs of her well-rounded calves into the palms of her hands and squeezing them firmly. 'Ahhh…' she sighed, 'so full and shapely, yet so soft! Your legs are perfect for roasting, Lisa!'
Lisa continued to moan, then wailed loudly when Linda grasped her ankles and jerked her feet from beneath her. Her full weight was now on her bound wrists, and she sobbed pitifully as Linda began to inspect her feet.
Linda ran her fingertips over Lisa’s soft, white feet, pausing once or twice to press her fingers into the fleshy soles. 'Mmmm… delicious,' she murmured. Then she pinched her plump, feminine toes and released them, allowing Lisa to take some of the weight off her wrists once more. Lisa sniffled softly as Linda rose and stood face to face with her, smiling savagely.
'You’re going to make a wonderful roast, Lisa.' Lisa cried, 'No!' and turned her face away. Linda grabbed a handful of Lisa’s hair and jerked her head around so that she was forced to face her. Lisa wailed and cried loudly, her body jerking violently with the force of her sobbing.
'That’s right, Lisa,' Linda continued, obviously enjoying the discomfort of her victim. 'It’s the spit for you. You’ll be stuffed with wild rice and herbs and roated over hot coals. That’s quite an honor, you know. One which we reserve only for our very best meat.'
Lisa shut her eyes tightly and shook her head as far as Linda’s hold on her head would allow. Her body tremhemorrhage and she kept repeating, 'No… No… No…' in a soft, bewildered voice.
Linda turned and smiled at Luija and Jumani, who were obviously enjoying this as much as she was. They returned her malicious grin and she continued to torment Lisa as they watched. 'I never told you how succulent your mother was, did I, Lisa?'
Lisa squeezed her eyes shut even more tightly and shook her head violently enough to jerk Linda’s arm back and forth. Linda tightened her grip on Lisa’s hair and continued.
'No, I never mentioned that, did I, Lisa? I guess I didn’t want you to lose your appetite while you were being fattened. Now that you’re nice and fat, though, I can’t think of any reason at all not to tell you how much we enjoyed eating her.'
Lisa stopped struggling and merely whimpered softly, her eyes still shut tightly as if it were her only defense.
'Oh, yes,' Linda went on. 'She was very sweet and tender. I ate her head, myself. Her cheeks and lips were exquisite, and her tongue! Well, her tongue was the best I’ve ever had. So plump and so delicately flavored. Mmm, I can just taste it now.'
Lisa’s body relaxed, but her eyes were still tightly shut. She began moaning softly in a slow rhythm, as if entranced. Linda stood quietly watching for a moment, deciding whether to torture her further. Then she smiled cruelly and reached up to pinch Lisa’s soft, pink cheek.
'That’s right, Lisa,' she whispered maliciously. 'You mother was the most delicious meat we have ever eaten.' She squeezed Lisa’s cheek hard enough to elicit a tiny yelp. 'We all agree on that. But, YOU!' she took a step backward and shook her head deliberately. 'You’re going to be even better!'
Lisa’s body went limp, and her head fell between her enormous breasts. Linda stepped forward and patted Lisa’s plump belly appreciatively. 'Ummm… delicious!' she moaned, and bent over as if to kiss Lisa’s navel. Instead she bit lightly into the dainty flesh beneath Lisa’s waistline, sucking the incredibly soft skin into her mouth. She gently nibhemorrhage and licked her future meal, savoring the skin’s salty flavor. Then she braced her hands on Lisa’s hips and began slowly to rise, running her tongue up Lisa’s midriff as she did so. When her head was between Lisa’s breasts, she rose to full height, grabbed a handful of Lisa’s hair and pulled her dangling head upward and back. She stared into Lisa’s unconscious face for a moment, then kissed her lips with savage passion, forcing her tongue into Lisa’s mouth to taste the insides of her cheeks and lips. At the same time she squeezed Lisa’s breasts tightly in her palms, relishing the feel of her warm, tender, ample flesh. Then she suddenly pulled away, allowing Lisa’s head to drop heavily back onto her chest. She stepped backward, looking Lisa’s body up and down and licking her full lips as if she could already taste Lisa’s roasted meat.
'Prepare her for the spit,' she called out in Juija and Jumani’s native language. She continued to stare at Lisa’s naked flesh. 'Tomorrow, we feast.'
The four native women washed Lisa thoroughly before tying her hands and feet to a thick bamboo pole so that they could carry her to the roasting pit. Two of them shouldered the pole, pulling Lisa from the water and swinging her from side to side as they made their way out of the pool and onto the jungle path which led to the village. Lisa’s delicate skin was flushed pink with the force of their scrubbing, and her ample flesh jiggled with the force of her porter’s footsteps. She groaned weakly, but her captors ignored her. Instead, they chatted happily in their native language about the upcoming feast.
The women who were bearing the ends of the pole complained cheerfully about how heavy Lisa was, and they all agreed there would be plenty of meat to go around. They were also delighted that she was so young - it had been a long time since they had roasted anyone on the spit. Roasting required very tender flesh.
Soon they entered a clearing where several native women were tending a large rectangular pit filled with smouldering coals.
Lazy wisps of sweet-smelling smoke drifted up from the white ashes covering the pit, and the heat from the red-hot coals underneath could be felt from several feet away. The women that had carried Lisa happily unburdened themselves, allowing the pole to slip from their shoulders into a cradle formed by two sets of two long stakes driven into the ground crossways. Lisa remained suspended, moaning softly and wriggling her hands and feet to try and relive the discomfort caused by the ropes biting into her flesh. On the ground beneath her lay a long, wooden spit about four inches in diameter, which had been made from the trunk of a green sapling. One end of the spit had been sharpened to a fine point.
Lisa groaned weakly and turned her head in time to catch one of the strong, younf native women sharpening her bamboo knife. She stared helplessly as the girl honed the edge of the knife, then tested it by shaving the fine hairs on her forearm. Satisfied that it was sharp enough, the girl held it tightly in one hand while she jerked Lisa’s head back with the other. Lisa felt nothing as the girl drew the blade across her throat. Her last thought was that the girl had only pretended to cut her throat. Then she saw that the knife was bloody as darkness closed in on her.
The native women dressed Lisa quickly and skilfully, emptying and cleaning her body cavity, filling her with wild rice and pepper, rubbing coconut oil into her skin and filling her mouth with a small mango. Then they worked the spit through her, forcing the pointed end into her vagina and pushing it through her soft flesh until it came out at the base of her neck. Finally, they trussed her hands and feet, placed her over the firepit and attached a crank made of wood and bamboo to the blunt end of the spit so that she could be turned while she was roasting.
Soon a rich aroma filled the air. Lisa’s skin began to turn brown and split, and melted fat fell and sizzled on the blazing coals. The delectable fragrance reached the village and the natives began to appear, gathering around the roasting pit and waiting impatiently for the feast to begin. By the time Lisa was thoroughly cooked, the entire village had assemhemorrhage. The natives cheered as when the cooks removed Lisa from the spit - then gathered greedily around the stone table onto which they laid her.
As usual, Ngini had first choice of meat. Every inch of Lisa was so incredibly savory that he didn’t know where to begin. The rest of the natives were forced to wait hungrily while he poked her all over with his long-handled fork, testing her succulent body to find the tenderest and juiciest portion. He prodded her arms and thighs, then her rump, breasts and legs. Sweet yellow fat ran from every puncture as the fork sank effortlessly into the meat. Finally he chose an arm, sawing it off from the shoulder and carting it way to enjoy the rich, tender flesh.
Linda sliced herself a generous portion of the belly, also took a bowlful of rice which had been flavored so exquisitely by Lisa’s natural juices. She sat beneath a palm tree to enjoy her food, savoring every morsel of the tender, fatty flesh.
It was dark before the feast was finished. There was meat to spare and it was carefully wrapped in banana leaves to be stored for recooking the following day. The natives never wasted an ounce of meat - particularly when it was as good as Lisa's. Everyone had agreed that she had been the best they had ever eaten.
Linda sat under the stars for a long time that evening. She felt perfectly full and content. Lisa and her mother had been delicious, and she had enjoyed tormenting as well as eating them. She thought about all the people she had eaten since she had come to the island. First her fellow passengers and husband; then the two young white girls who had sailed to the island to sunbathe, along with their plump, middle-aged black maid-servant and fat grandmother. They had all been delicious, as had the young native couple that Ngini had ordered sacrificed to appease his meat hunger during the year no strangers were captured.
Lisa relished the memories of all these feasts, and wondered when she would have the opportunity to feast again. High overhead, an airplane buzzed directly above the island. Linda looked up at the flashing light and imagined it full of fat, juicy men and tender, delicately flavored women.
'Crash, you son-of-a-bitch! Crash!' she thought, and laughed softly to herself, lying back on the dry sand dune.